Films: Piku and Talvar
What can be better than our best talent in roles worthy of their genius? Had the pleasure of watching Irrfan Khan in two such avatars this year.
Like I wrote in my review, Piku would half the movie in the absence of his calm wisdom. He plays Piku's breakthrough with intelligence and sarcasm.
And there's Talvar, where his CBI officer is investigating a messy murder-- one he took on reluctantly, one he pursues uncompromisingly, one that leaves him beaten and bitter, Khan renders it in heft and cynicism.
Films: Manjhi-The Mountain Main, Badlapur, Bajrangi Bhaijaan
Nawazuddin Siddiqui's brilliance shines through the versatile characters he essayed in 2015.
As a man who starts out angry at the mountain that claimed his wife's life to reaching a mutual understanding, even friendship with it over decades of bittersweet interaction, his personification of the inanimate in a script devoid of detailing is spellbinding to say the least.
Nawaz of Badlapur is sensational, revealing a world of complexities under and between layers and layers of dark deceit and dangerous desperation.
Films: Shamitabh and Piku
Shamitabh loses steam by its third act but nothing to fault in Amitabh Bachchan's delivery of a surly, sceptical alcoholic, erstwhile failed actor receiving his due for the same quality that got him rejected in the day – his towering voice.
And boy, can he use it to say words that sting and spew venom trickling out of a punctured ego. Bachchan's calibre shines through and through in a film that liberally indulges him, at times at its own expense.
When an actor has worked as much as AB, fatigue settles in. So it's nothing short of a marvel to see him retain his sense of wonderment and enthusiasm when playing a constipation-ridden, idiosyncratic septuagenarian in Piku.
Films: Bajirao Mastani and Dil Dhadakne Do
Ranveer Singh has raised the bar this year. And how!
His unassuming, dry-humoured tone while he comes of age is perfect to portray the reluctant heir to his father's business. It's the sort of assured, relaxed performance that takes its pride in creating impact without the usual hullabaloo and histrionics.
In complete contrast is his stunning Maratha Peshwa Bajirao, full of swagger and swords and statements. Everything about Bhansali's lavish costume drama is designed for attention and Ranveer looks like he wasn't just destined but born to play the part.
Film: Titli
Is that really Ranvir Shorey? Because what I recall is a terrifying monster that I cannot forget but don't want to remember.
Titli is a disturbing movie to sit through predominantly because of Shorey's presence, his actions and how seamlessly he gets under the skin of a man whose desperation has turned him into a monster. What's most chilling is how he maintains a aura of normalcy around him.
It's a demanding performance but Shorey makes it look real, painless.
Film: Tamasha
Deepika Padukone is magnificent as his ladylove in Tamasha. But part of its credit goes to Ranbir Kapoor as well. These two bring out the best in each other; unearth new dimensions in their characters, some that aren't always mentioned on a piece of paper.
Ranbir's Ved unravels like a multifaceted personality. There's this fun side where he gives into role-playing, there's a mechanical office slave holding back his true potential to fit in, there's the disturbed form having a breakdown over the same and there's, finally, Ved – the original, in his true form.
Ved could totally backfire in a lesser actor's possession but Ranbir embraces the good with the bad and realises his extremes and conflicts without creating disconnected people but the same individual at different stages of life.
Film: Bajrangi Bhaijaan
The Salman Khan in Bajrangi Bhaijaan is nothing like the cocky, catchphrase-ready action hero of Wanted and ilk. But this novelty isn't the only reason to give it value. There's quality too.
Salman upholds the humility and idealism of Bajrangi Bhaijaan in his enchanting show of grace and virtue. What surprised me is the honesty.
His chemistry around children is regularly precious but the Baloo-reminiscent fondness he feels for Harshaali Malhotra endears us to his cause as he sets about sans any passport to reunite the kid with her family in Pakistan. It's a character you root for, a performance you regale in.
Film: Dil Dhadake Do
The minute I typed out his name here, a visual of Anil Kapoor's priceless expression in Dil Dhadakne Do popped in my head – one where he catches Vikrant Massey and Riddhima Sud red-handed.
Now here's an actor who's constantly finding fresh ways to surprise and entertain his audience.
And so I reiterate, “right from the moment Kapoor delivers his first punch line clad in a pair of spiffy golf pants to the final scene seizing his vivacious, winsome grin, he crackles the screen with his portrayal of a deliciously calculating Punjabi patriarch. Alternately refined, bumbling, rascally and vulnerable, Kapoor is the life of Zoya's opulent multistarrer.”
Film: Tanu Weds Manu Returns
“Bhai, tailor suit ke saath kafan bhi seete ho kya?”
“Woh ticket saat hazaar ka thi. Theek nahi laga seedhe paagal khana jaana. Socha pehle London ghoom loon.”
“Masoor ki dal mein ajinomoto nahi padta!”
“You are a good question but your question hurt me.”
Does one really need to explain what makes Deepak Dobriyal such a scream in Tanu Weds Manu Returns? The success of the sequel owes as much to Dobriyal's droll Pappiji as it does to Kangana Ranaut in a delightful double role.
Film: Dum Laga Ke Haisha
Ayushmann Khurana doesn't start out as the standard likeable guy promising righteous behaviour and rakish charm. Far from it, he's sullen, cranky, stifled and perennially dissatisfied with his family and life unwilling to take the blame for letting it get there.
This snappiness only inflates when he demonstrates embarrassment towards his new bride. Only instead of coming across as misogynist, a discerning Khurana portrays him like a bad loser who gradually realises his mistake and breaks the thorny walls he's build around him as some sort of a defence mechanism.
Khurana is a revelation as the shuddh-Hindi spewing, Haridwar resident Prem Prakash Tiwari.