Luce (2019): Mixed Messages

Luce (Kelvin Harrison Jr.; It Comes at Night) is a golden boy. He’s a star athlete, incredible student, and beloved by his school staff. He gives speeches at school assemblies and is poised for a great future, but comes from a difficult past. He was adopted from war-torn Eritrea by wealthy white parents and his life seems perfect until a teacher (Octavia Spencer; The Help) finds fireworks in his locker and has suspicions about his true character. As Luce, Harrison brings a smile and expressions that seem kind, but could just as easily be fake and the slightly stilted body language plants enough seeds of doubt to make his teacher’s allegations possible.  Similarly, Spencer seems like a dutiful teacher at first, but may have her own agenda.

Luce has a lot to say about race, primarily racial stereotypes. Luce is a model teenager that seems to excel in every field. Teachers give him the benefit of the doubt and, in some cases, even go out of their way to protect  him, but that luxury isn’t afforded to every student. Other black students, doing the same behaviors as him, are quickly punished and suffer long term consequences. Luce’s friend tells him “You’re not really black” and Luce questions why he gets to be “one of the good ones” and others don’t. This is an incredibly complicated issue and the film uses this labeling to add layers to the doubts about Luce’s actions as the characters and the audience are asked to question their own predispositions to judging someone’s innocence.

Harrison’s manners have a slight suggestion of insincerity that prevents Luce from being completely trustworthy.

In its lineup of topics, Luce goes after innocent targets with no discernable purpose. When Luce is initially accused of wrongdoing, his mother supports him at all costs, refusing to believe any allegation. His dad has less blind faith and when events create reasonable doubt, he spouts, “I just wanted a normal life. I didn’t want our family to be a political statement.”, implying that he not only regrets adopting Luce, but that they did it to make themselves seem progressive. It’s possible that there may be cases like this, but who is director and co-writer Julius Onah (The Cloverfield Paradox) trying to interrogate here, adoptive parents? Luce’s mother points out how they spent years going through therapy with their son to help him recover from the terrible life he faced in his home country, a gargantuan effort that few would be willing to do when a “normal family” is an option. To question people that choose to give a child from a better life, people to choose to face the difficulties the child may bring because they believe he or she is worth, is irresponsible and harmful. Some films tackle easy subjects, some tackle difficult subjects, but in this instance, the director punches down at people doing a demanding and altruistic deed, without provocation or reason. There are so many topics within race relations and stereotypes that deserve a proper examination, but Onah’s shotgun approach hits innocent targets in a way that raises questions about the level of care put into the film’s themes and creates mixed, troublesome messages in what could have been a perceptive thriller about racial stereotypes.

3/5 stars.

Wild Rose (2019): Three Chords and the Truth

In what has to be the strangest case of cultural appropriation, Glasgow, Scotland apparently has a country music scene. Rose-Lynn (Jessie Buckley; Beast) is a recently released convict hoping to become the next great country singer. She lives and breathes country music, is always seen listening (and singing to) the likes of Wynona Judd and Patty Griffin, and sings at a local country bar. She plans save up the money for a ticket to Nashville, Tennessee so she can make it big. In the meantime, she works as a maid for a wealthy woman.No love or knowledge of country music is needed from the audience. The genre is often derided for its references to tractors and pick-up trucks, but director Tom Harper (War & Peace) selects a variety of soulful tracks. The music is wistful and heartfelt with genuine longing and emotion underneath. Buckley, having placed second on a BBC talent show for her singing, has an incredible voice. Her vocals, especially with songs like “When I Reach the Place I’m Going”, capture her feeling of being out of place and the solace that music offers her. She says “I should have been born in America. I’m an American.” and after watching her perform, it’s hard to argue with her.

Rose-Lynn is, in no uncertain terms, a screwup. Despite her musical talent and fierce personality, she has made and continues to make many avoidable mistakes in her life. She’s a heavy drinker, quick to anger, and undisciplined. When her boss puts her on a train to London to meet with an industry insider, Rose-Lynn leaves her bags unattended so she can get drunk with other passengers and loses all her belongings. She has several shortsighted, self-destructive behaviors that undermine her chances of success.

Rose-Lynn’s children add a refreshing wrinkle to her story.

The most unique aspect of Rose-Lynn’s pursuits is her family life. Unlike most leads in a “follow your heart” type story, she has real responsibilities. She has two young children that her mother Marion (Julie Walters; Billy Elliot) has raised while she was incarcerated. Her daughter seems noticeably distant and likely resentful towards her mother for being absent from their lives and Marion has similar feelings. She wants her daughter to be the mother the children deserve, but Rose-Lynn is often irresponsible, making promises to her kids that she either forgets or ignores when her own priorities come up.

The tension between being a star and being a single mother is something that Harper keeps reinforcing. Many of Rose-Lynn’s potential big breaks directly conflict with her children’s needs and the humble, but stable life her mother wants for her. However, the film doesn’t fully address this issue and its finale, while heartwarming, is abrupt and sidesteps providing a viewpoint. Ultimately, Rose-Lynn’s story comes down to passion. She says she loves country because it is “Three Chords and the Truth” and the film succeeds based on the unbridled emotion Rose-Lynn brings with her music. There have been plenty of pop star rise-to-fame stories recently like A Star is Born, but Buckley’s winning performance and her character’s unique responsibilities are enough to distinguish Wild Rose and overcome its abrupt ending.

4/5 stars.

The Farewell (2019): Death & Family

A struggling artist in New York has her life disrupted when she is told that her beloved grandmother has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and only has a few months to live. Billi (Awkwafina; Crazy Rich Asians) learns, to her shock, that her parents are not going to tell her Nai Nai that she is sick. The thought of having cancer, her mother explains, is just as deadly as the disease. Lulu Wang (Posthumous) writes and directs the film based on her own personal experience.

For all her comedic roles to date, Awkwafina takes a terrific turn as a dramatic actor. Her Billi has a rebellious side, but is also compassionate and understandably confused by her family’s decision. She is most concerned for her grandmother’s welfare and her right to know the truth. Her parents advise her against visiting because she is too expressive, but it is that emotion that makes her so relatable. While the rest of the characters try to act as if nothing is wrong, it’s Billi’s empathy that the audience can identify with.

Wang is able to capture the complicated family dynamic. Nai Nai is the matriarch scolding everyone for any little detail while her sons (Billi’s dad and uncle) are deferential to her authority yet Billi’s mother holds some resentment towards Nai Nai for previous conflicts. Despite this being her own immediate family, Billi is somewhat of an outsider and Wang focuses on her attempt to navigate the social norms.

Nai Nai’s tough affection makes it clear why her family loves her so much.

There is an emphasis on the compassion that drives this act of deception. While it may seem dishonest to lie to a loved one about their health, Wang shows the sacrifice this requires of the family. In many ways, not telling Nai Nai is a way to spare her worrying, but at their own expense. They go to great lengths to keep up the façade, even hiring someone to alter the results of her medical tests, and the emotional toll is clear. The family is choosing the bear the burden of her condition so that she may enjoy her last months and is willing to let the knowledge of her fate eat at them as a way of respecting Nai Nai. In examining this difficult, but well-meaning decision, Wang shows the lengths we are willing to go to protect those we care about.

The film effectively balances drama with humor. Billi can be sarcastic and several of her family members are hilarious in their antics like a younger cousin who refuses to be called “little” anymore. Nai Nai is the source of most of the humor. She’s at an age and social status in her family where pleasantries are unnecessary and she is completely uninhibited when it comes to give her unsolicited opinions and telling others what they are doing wrong. She affectionately calls Billi “Stupid child!”, but her constant admonishing can’t hide her good heart underneath. There is a pervasive melancholy that hangs over the film’s lighter moments. Everything is bittersweet. Moments of humor are tinged with regret as the knowledge that these may be the last laughs they share with Nai Nai is never forgotten. Wang has taken a very personal, culturally-specific issue from her life and adapted it into a feature that has heart, humor, and compassion for the family’s dilemma.

4/5 stars.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019): Warm Nostalgia

Quentin Tarantino loves movies and with Once Upon a Time in Hollywood he has created a love letter to one of his favorite periods of the entertainment industry.  Rick (Leonardo DiCaprio; The Departed) is a former star of a TV western show, now only making small appearances as the villain in other programs. He, with the help of his longtime stuntman and personal assistant Cliff (Brad Pitt; The Tree of Life), make their way around town as they try to restart their careers. Parallel to this is Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie; The Wolf of Wall Street) who is a rising star enjoying her life.

There are few films with as deep a cast as this. It’s filled with cameos from Al Pacino, Bruce Dern, and many other legendary actors, but it’s DiCaprio and Pitt that steal the show. As leading men, they are as charismatic as ever, but, despite their still unfairly good looks, they show their age. Both actors have prominent wrinkles and bodies that appear weathered by time. Rick and Cliff are actors past their prime and DiCaprio and Pitt beautifully convey their reluctant aging and their diminishing role in the changing world of show business.

Rick and Cliff have a gentle, supportive friendship.

Unlike Tarantino’s previous work, there really isn’t a plot and that’s not a criticism. The film follows DiCaprio and Pitt as they go about their daily lives. Rick meets with agents and acts on set while Cliff runs errands. A significant amount of the screen time is them driving around while Tarantino gives us a tour of his vision of LA in the late 60s. It’s not period perfect, but it is accurate to his memory. Even without any connection to the location or time, the setting still evokes nostalgia for an era long gone. Sharon’s portions of the film are similarly domestic. We see her go to a screening of a movie she stars in and spend time with her friends in a completely normal, unglamorous way. This is the most humanizing Tarantino has every been and it’s a welcome change that shows the director’s maturation. Rick and Cliff are fading stars whose mistakes are endearing as they become lovable goofs while Sharon’s good-natured, unpretentious spirit is incredibly likable. Tarantino’s characters are still unique to his trademark style, but he has the confidence to let the audience spend time with them for no other reason than his own affection towards them.

The one flash of Tarantino’s genre fetishes comes at the finale. The ending is a sudden leap from what had been fairly tame, but it provides a jolt of adrenaline to the warm comfort developed by most of the film. What happens onscreen may be considered excessive, but it is also gratifying and cathartic. It plays with audience expectations and closes the film with a reminder of Tarantino’s full range of talent as it balances the brutal, farcical, and hilarious. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood may not have grand genre-defining ambitions like Pulp Fiction, but its rich characters and world are a joy to spend an afternoon with.

4/5 stars.

Yesterday (2019): Goofy Charm with Rushed Plotting

Some people say that if they could time travel, they’d go back to buy stock in Amazon or Google. For a musician, the equivalent might be playing songs before they were ever written and in Yesterday a struggling singer gets that chance. Jack (Himesh Patel; EastEnders) is a singer-songwriter who has never been able to get a record deal or write a hit song. After a particularly bad show, he decides to quit forever and bikes home only to be hit by a bus home during a freak global blackout. When he comes to, he realizes that no one has heard of The Beatles and takes the opportunity to pass off their music as his own.

While Yesterday presents an alternate timeline, that isn’t its focus. The film touches on a few trickle down effects of a world without The Beatles, like certain other bands never existing, and gets several laughs out of Jack frantically googling things only to realize they don’t exist, but it makes best use of the premise with the world’s casual indifference towards music that we now consider legendary. As Jack tries to play “Let it Be” for his family, his father keeps disrupting him, the neighbor stops by, and his mom can’t quite remember the name. There are also several jokes about the stranger titles of Beatles songs and albums and how no modern market research would ever allow such poor branding. Despite all these touches, at its heart, Yesterday is a romantic comedy.

Ellie (Lily James; Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again) is Jack’s manager, roadie, biggest supporter, and clearly has unrequited feelings for him. Other characters point out their unusual relationship, but its importance never reaches Jack until he starts traveling. The arc of their relationship is nothing new, but it’s nevertheless enjoyable.

Ed Sheeran is hilarious as he pokes fun at himself.

The film was written by Richard Curtis (Notting Hill) and it shows in every detail. The characters have the same likable, goofy, slightly off-beat charm he is known for and there is plenty of humor. Jack’s roadie, Rocky (Joel Fry; 10,000 BC), might as well be the roommate from Notting Hill with all his social faux pas and well-meaning failures. The film’s biggest surprise is singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran. Sheeran who, playing himself, acts as Jack’s mentor and is hilarious in the self-satire as he gives Jack bad advice on how to succeed in the music industry. Curtis’s humor and charm are the film’s main draws.

While Curtis may have the greatest creative imprint, Danny Boyle (Trainspotting) is still the director. This is notably lighter fare than his usual work, but Boyle does an admirable job with the material. There are several oblique angles and a more kinetic energy to the camera movements. The story does however seem noticeably rushed. The major character changes from the second and third acts happen at a pace too quick to be believable and characters make decisions that are implausible in order for the story to reach its desired conclusion. It isn’t revolutionary and has some plot issues, but Yesterday has a unique premise and plenty of endearing characters and good-natured humor to make up for it.

3/5 stars.

Midsommar (2019): Striking Vision, Lackluster Narrative

Dani (Florence Pugh; Lady Macbeth) is a young woman in a rocky relationship with her boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor; Sing Street) when tragedy strikes. Her world is changed and Christian’s plan to break up with her is suspended in the midst of her suffering. Unable to say to no to her, Christian invites Dani to join him on a trip to his classmate’s hometown in Sweden to observe their traditional midsummer festival, a trip that he had initially planned without her. The celebration proves to be something far beyond what they could have ever expected.

The most striking difference between Midsommar and its peers is its visuals. Horror movies, in general, take place in the dark, the shadows, or otherwise obfuscated areas relying on the potential unseen to create fear. Director Ari Aster (Hereditary) has instead created a sun-drenched, idyllic landscape. The commune is in a lush area with brightly colored buildings that, on the surface, appear welcoming. The residents happily greet their visitors, but the picturesque setting quickly begins to raise alarm. The film’s atmosphere becomes uncomfortable as things are too perfect and the bright setting appears to hide a much darker truth underneath.

Aster displays incredible talent, but doesn’t sustain it throughout the movie. There are innovative scene transitions that seamlessly move viewers from one location to the next and a great use of tension early on. The initial event that changes Dani’s life is presented so subtly that the reveal is horrifying is its simple, but grisly details. He is a director that has a knack for letting the audience know that something is wrong, even when everything appears normal. However, this effect lessens as the film progresses. Aster is able to create mystery and discomfort when the characters and settings are unfamiliar, but can’t maintain the atmosphere for the film’s runtime.

The sunny grasslands are still an uncomfortable setting.

Pugh again proves herself to be an incredible actress. As Dani she is depressed, anxious, and eager to please with a growing distrust of her boyfriend and their relationship. Pugh makes Dani’s manic behavior believable and, while often irrational, she still engenders sympathy given circumstances. Her character arch is similar to Charlotte Gainsbourg’s character in Melancholia. She is initially the “crazy” one, but as their situation becomes increasingly bizarre, she seems the most at home. Her neediness and the fragile nature of her relationship with Christian deserves particular praise. Pugh’s performance captures Dani’s desperation for companionship, even with her suspicion that their relationship is nearing its end.

Like Hereditary, the film’s atmosphere isn’t able to make up for its narrative. As Midsommar continues and the true nature of the festival and the community are revealed, the film loses most of its appeal. These story beats are strange, but mostly elaborate on the nefarious nature of the cult in ways that aren’t particularly original or interesting. There some disturbing decisions made, but at that point the characters have become so far removed from reality with their acceptance of some of the shocking traditions that there is little connection or emotional impact to their outcomes. It has an incredible setting and a striking vision, but they aren’t enough to overcome Midsommar’s narrative problems.

2/5 stars.

The Art of Self-Defense (2019): The Anti-Fight Club

Casey (Jesse Eisenberg; The Social Network) is an awkward, lonely accountant that lives his life without much companionship other than his Dachshund. On a quick trip to the grocery store to buy dog food one night, he is brutally assaulted by a gang of motorcycle-riding muggers and is left in the hospital for days. Now petrified of the world, he stumbles upon a karate class and is wowed by their physicality. He quickly joins and devotes himself to the teachings of his Sensei (Alessandro Nivola; Face/Off).

After initially claiming he joined for “health and fitness reasons”, Casey confesses “I’m afraid of other men”. He feels weak, powerless, and is hyper-aware of his lack of masculinity. Characters, Casey included, comment on how he has a feminine name. Karate becomes his way to change his identity and “become the thing he fears”. To make this possible, Sensei tells him to change every aspect of his personality. He starts listening to metal and alters other superficial aspects of his life to “commit” to his goal.

Director Riley Stearns (Faults) uses this transformation to critique cultural norms. Sensei’s advice is narrow, ridiculous, and often results in aberrant behavior as Casey moves beyond assertive to aggressive responses. Eisenberg delivers the controlled performance that is perfect for the material. When he becomes “Masculine Casey” he still carries the awkward mannerisms of his original self, but overcompensates with the aggressive language and body movements of someone forcing themselves to do something they are completely uncomfortable with.

Eisenberg’s nervous energy is the exactly right fit for playing Casey and is his best role since The Social Network.

Stearns is able to balance this critique with frequent moments of levity. The film can be depressing as Casey struggles with his confidence when he is insulted and taken advantage of by others, but it also points out how society’s expectations of men shouldn’t be considered normal. This is especially true when they try to explain themselves. Sensei speaks of his dojo’s traditions with complete seriousness and in the same breath talks about replacement fees for karate belts.

This balance is held together by an incredibly tight script. The film’s plot has several reveals that will leave viewers shocked but still follow a logical progression. Stearns weaves in subtle hints at where the story is headed throughout the film. Every single aspect of the narrative, from the rules on the dojo walls to Casey’s perceived femininity is essential to the plot and Stearns deserves enormous praise for creating a script that is at once dense with details and completely devoid of filler.

The Art of Self-Defense is essentially the anti-Fight Club. Fight Club centered on a similarly weak main character that changes into something else under the influence of a stereotypically masculine figure. The tragedy of that film, while flawlessly executed by director David Fincher, is that the majority of viewers not only missed the point of the film, they completely misinterpreted it. Many left believing the film was in favor of Tyler Durden and his anarchic beliefs because of Fincher’s slick style and Brad Pitt’s charismatic performance, despite the opposite being the case. Stearns leaves no room for this same misinterpretation. Violence is depicted as savage and unnecessary rather than cathartic and the “manly” characters are shown for their own absurdity and used for humor or just as pitiful beings. The Art of Self-Defense is a morbidly funny, tightly crafted, skewering of the hypocrisy of traditional masculinity and an strong entry into Stearns’s growing filmography.

4/5 stars.

In the Aisles (2019): Life and Love in a Supermarket

With books, we’re told to read between the lines, but when it comes to stores, it seems we need to look In the Aisles. Christian (Franz Rogowski; Transit) is a new hire at a large retailer. He is an extremely taciturn man, but a hard worker under the guidance of his assigned manager Bruno (Peter Kurth; A Heavy Heart). Soon after starting he encounters Marion (Sandra Hüller; Toni Erdmann), an employee in a different aisle, and develops feelings for her.

Director Thomas Stuber (Teenage Angst) immediately establishes the film’s most important character: the supermarket. The store is an enormous warehouse club and the camerawork always emphasizes its incredible size. The film’s opening shows the store’s night shift work and is set to the Blue Danube waltz, recalling the space stations from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Like outer space in 2001, the towering shelves and expansive aisles are a great unknown that the employees navigate in coordinated routines that are almost dance-like. Since Christian is on the night shift, the store is usually dimly lit, giving it a more bleak look than the overly bright areas shoppers are accustomed to.

There is a resigned hopelessness that hangs over the film. The characters shown aren’t upwardly mobile people trying to better themselves. They appear to be employees that follow the routine of their unglamorous jobs and have no plans to change. They aren’t ecstatic about their jobs, but they aren’t unhappy either. It’s more of a quiet acceptance that things will neither improve nor deteriorate and that their current stations in life are inescapable. This gives the atmosphere an oppressive quality, but there are still moments of modest joy.

Bruno’s affection for Christian is subtle, but sincere.

The store staff genuinely care for each other. They have long histories like family and have respect for each other. Bruno, as Christian’s boss and mentor, is a paternal figure that looks out for Christian and gently encourages him as he struggles with some of his tasks. The group celebrates together in holiday parties and suffers together in unfortunate circumstances. The permanence of their jobs means their connections are deep and closer to relatives than mere coworkers.

The relationship between Christian and Marion is only one part of Stuber’s focus. Christian’s inarticulate manners and his reserved demeanor are in stark contrast to Marion’s relative liveliness and his kind, subdued gestures towards her make for an endearing sight. While the film initially seems to be centered on their romance, it slowly reveals itself to be about the people of the store and what it means to them. Their jobs are mundane, repetitive, and don’t afford them any kind of lavish lifestyle, but it offers stability. The store’s familiarity brings solace and belonging to its staff, most of whom have little else outside of work. During the holidays, Christian lays in bed waiting for the store to reopen. Many will find the setting and characters banal and dreary and be put off by the film’s unhurried tempo, but there is a humble poignance to the characters’ lives. Stuber has captured a microcosm of souls locked in a monotonous, but sustainable existence. It may not be much, but the store and the routines and community that come with it provide enough simple meaning to their endure ordinary lives.

4/5 stars.

Pokémon Detective Pikachu (2019): Pokémon Noir

The first live-action feature based on the mega-franchise Pokémon is also the best video game adaptation to date, not that it had a lot of competition. Tim (Justice Smith; Paper Towns) comes to Rime City to collect the belongings of his estranged father that recently passed away. In his father’s apartment, he finds a Pikachu (Ryan Reynolds; Deadpool) searching through documents and discovers that it can talk and that he can understand it. The Pikachu has lost its memory but wears a Sherlock Holmes-esque deerstalker hat with Tim’s father’s address written on the inside. He believes that there is a coverup and teams with Tim to solve the mystery.

For a series targeted at children, Rime City is an unexpected location. Unlike the mostly clean, often idyllic towns of the anime, Rime City is a bustling metropolis. It’s a grimy, overpopulated place closer to the city from Blade Runner than anything else. It’s a city with underground fighting rings , secret labs, and corruption. One key difference is that it does not have Pokémon trainers in the traditional sense. Normally, characters catch and train Pokémon in order to fight them in battles against other Pokémon to win tournaments. Rime City is noted as a city where there is “harmony between humans and Pokémon” so instead of owning several Pokémon, each human appears to have a single Pokémon partner. This is a clever decision by the writers because it allows the city to feel dangerous, but neatly sidesteps any potential resemblance between Pokémon battles and animal fights that could cause controversy due to the realistic renderings.

The creature designs are incredibly detailed. Bringing the cartoon animals to life was no small task and the effects team has done a phenomenal job of making them feel realistic. The Pokémon are rendered with texture which is alarming at first, but it acclimates quickly. Psyduck has fur that gets tussled, Bulbasaur has slimy frog-like skin, and even Pokémon that don’t resemble animals, like Mr. Mime, have slight wrinkles to them. It makes these strange creatures tangible, but without betraying their original, iconic designs, unlike the recent Sonic the Hedgehog movie.

This isn’t in the actual movie, but it’s a great indication of the quality of animation on display.

With Pikachu, the effects team has taken this to another level. Pikachu is the only Pokémon in the film that talks and his animation is stellar. The way his fur moves and his fat jiggles as he runs is lifelike and they’ve taken special care in his facial animations. Using motion capture, Reynolds’s slightest expressions are mapped onto Pikachu’s face and it imbues him with Reynolds’s trademark sarcastic wit. He still sounds like Deadpool, but at no point in the film does he feel like a cartoon. Pikachu has all the charisma and physicality of a living, breathing character, while still being an adorable little furball.

The question then becomes “is this only for Pokémon fans?” and the answer is not quite. A tangential knowledge of a few main Pokémon like Pikachu is all that’s needed. The main plot resembles a standard film noir. Having watched the anime or played the games is beneficial but not necessary. The film mostly features the original 151 Pokémon so older fans that haven’t kept up with the franchise will be right at home. That being said, fans will gain so much more from the film. Most scenes contain references to Pokémon lore that knowledgeable viewers will eat up. Background elements like a Machamp using its four arms to redirect traffic around a sleeping Snorlax are amazing and it’s a joy to watch the believable way Pokémon interact and work with humans. The narrative itself is by no means special, but Reynolds’s performance as Pikachu and the thoughtful depiction of Pokémon-human interactions make this a worthy adaptation.

3/5 stars.

Photograph (2019): Slight, but Affecting Romance

After the disappointment that was Our Souls at Night, it’s great to see director Ritesh Batra (The Lunchbox) make a return to form and a return home to Mumbai. Rafi (Nawazuddin Siddiqui; The Lunchbox) works as a photographer selling instant photos to tourists at the Gateway of India. He has a chance encounter with a young woman, Miloni (Sanya Malhotra; Dangal), who absentmindedly walks off before paying him for the photograph. As a man approaching middle age, Rafi is being pressured by his grandmother (Farrukh Jaffar; Swades) to get married. To appease her and hopefully put an end to her nagging, he sends her the photograph of Miloni, claiming that she is his girlfriend. Of course, this backfires when his grandmother immediately decides to visit to meet her and Rafi has to ask Miloni to pretend to be his girlfriend until she leaves.

There’s nothing surprising about where the plot goes, but the journey is still enjoyable. As Rafi and Miloni spend time together and learn more about each other as part of the ruse, they gradually become closer. Miloni is younger and grew up in a upper-class urban family so she finds Rafi’s village background to be a fascinating escape. In a culture where public displays of physical affection are rare, their progression is slow, but noticeable in the extra time they spend together. Batra mines these unspoken feelings for subtle, but palpable romantic longing.

It’s this gentle approach to storytelling that has defined Batra’s directing style. His characters speak in soft voices, always too polite to fully express themselves, and their reluctance to act on their desires makes them all the more likable. His style owes a great debt to the films of Wong Kar-Wai, but there is an importance difference. Wong’s films tend to come from a place of melancholy. His characters were in doomed romances destined to end before they ever truly begin. With Batra, there are hope and genuine warmth behind his lens.

Jaffar’s nagging is unexpected source of humor.

Siddiqui and Malhotra make an endearing main couple, but it is Jaffar that steals the show. Despite being an elderly woman, Jaffar is clearly in command. She is the stern matriarch that always has advice and criticisms to offer, whether or not her grandson wants to hear it. Her constant admonishment and unnecessarily loud speaking voice will give anyone who has had to deal with controlling relatives shivers. Yet, her inclusion adds a tragic nature to the romance. She wants the best for her grandson before she passes away but the joy she feels upon seeing Rafi and Miloni together also carries the heavy guilt that the relationship is an act. Her character brings some much needed energy and provides an additional wrinkle to their could-be pairing.

When the film comes to a close, some may be left unsatisfied. There is a stopping point rather than a traditional conclusion. Batra has his characters explicitly address why he felt conventional closure was unnecessary, but many will still find the ending too hasty. Batra has executed on his signature brand of romantic longing, but given the predictable plot and abrupt conclusion, Photograph is a successful, but minor work.

3/5 stars.