If the movie “Life in a Metro” were 20 minutes shorter, if the story about Dharmendra and Nafisa Ali were chopped off, if the director hadn’t tried so hard to connect the three different stories, the movie could have been much better.
It’s a movie about people in search of an idea of perfect happiness. A wife’s search for the Utopian marital bliss, a husband’s search for the lost spontaneity of youth, a young struggling actor searching for acceptance and rewards, a young call centre worker in a hurry. Not exactly new, but still has promise – especially when these lives intersect in a city which envelops them in a life-sapping embrace.
But well begun is only won. The stories go forward in spurts; whole banal sections and suddenly, a surprisingly insightful gem hidden inside it. Whole parts which are forced and overly dramatic change the otherwise smooth momentum.
But all those niggles I would have accepted if the movie had brought to life the smell of the city which itself is in a constant search mode. The noise, the spontaneity, the irritants that can sometimes be overwhelming. But I was left searching for it in the movie. The panorama just didn't fall in place.
It’s easy to appreciate the movie for attempting to be different – showing the grimier part of Mumbai, showing actual singers belting out tracks while the city and the protagonists move on around them etc. But that is being unfair and condescending. As movie accomplishments go, Life in a Metro flattered to deceive.
The ensemble cast was more than competent – with the exception of Shilpa Shetty. Special mentions – Irrfan (is that how his name is spelt, nowadays) and Shiny Ahuja.
It’s a movie about people in search of an idea of perfect happiness. A wife’s search for the Utopian marital bliss, a husband’s search for the lost spontaneity of youth, a young struggling actor searching for acceptance and rewards, a young call centre worker in a hurry. Not exactly new, but still has promise – especially when these lives intersect in a city which envelops them in a life-sapping embrace.
But well begun is only won. The stories go forward in spurts; whole banal sections and suddenly, a surprisingly insightful gem hidden inside it. Whole parts which are forced and overly dramatic change the otherwise smooth momentum.
But all those niggles I would have accepted if the movie had brought to life the smell of the city which itself is in a constant search mode. The noise, the spontaneity, the irritants that can sometimes be overwhelming. But I was left searching for it in the movie. The panorama just didn't fall in place.
It’s easy to appreciate the movie for attempting to be different – showing the grimier part of Mumbai, showing actual singers belting out tracks while the city and the protagonists move on around them etc. But that is being unfair and condescending. As movie accomplishments go, Life in a Metro flattered to deceive.
The ensemble cast was more than competent – with the exception of Shilpa Shetty. Special mentions – Irrfan (is that how his name is spelt, nowadays) and Shiny Ahuja.
2 comments:
That is a good account of what I saw in the film. Thanks for writing about it Kumar. I loved the slice of life sequences like "a man gazing at a woman's bust", "sharing the story of your heart break on radio and winning a gift hamper", "getting drunk with the girl you like, two days before getting married to a girl your family has chosen for you", "hypocrisy of a 'civil' lifestyle trying to fit in a screwing session with the office mate (Going to temple, wife's delivery, boys coming to see a girl, depositing the EMI cheque etc..)
I am beginning to believe that every (or most) of the films have one or two really good things to remember..: )
Thanks for the comment.
A film really starts touching you if those individual strings start tying up into a bigger whole and paints a canvas - thats when it moves me.
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