Herione Hindi Movie Online

Film: Herione
Starring: Kareena Kapoor,Arjun Rampal, Divya Dutta,Arunoday Singh
Director: Madhur Bhandarkar
Producer: Madhur Bhandarkar, Ronnie Screwvala
Banner: UTV, Bhandarkar Entertainment
Music: Salim-Sulaiman



















Somewhere deep within the corroding flamboyance of filmdom, there is a tale of heartbreaking compromises and immorality tucked away from the naked, tearless eye. Madhur Bhandarkar nearly gets to the nerve centre of that world, and then pulls back just before he's really gotten there.
"Heroine" is an intriguingly unfinished film - partly in the rapidfire mood of a game show and partly like an elegiac melody played gently on an antique piano with immaculate fingers. It lacks a centre, sometimes even a focus as it tries to cram in too many incidents, episodes, scandals, controversies and plain absurdities that are an integral part of Bollywood, so much so that the first hour or so gets suffocatingly airtight.
And then you realize towards the end, that the world of the superstar Mahi Khanna traps the star, makes her a puppet of success, traps her in a web of deceit and finally throws her into a whirlwind of vaporous deceptions.
The closing moments have that gut-wrenching element which made Bhandarkar's "Chandni Bar", "Page 3" and "Fashion" among the more sensitive dramas in recent times.
We see Mahi, shattered forlorn and bereft, trapped in a car surrounded by merciless television journalists. As the haunting background score by Salim-Sulaiman builds up to a shattering crescendo, Mahi's hands fold together in a plea of mercy. In moments our hearts bleed for Mahi.
God help those who are cursed with stardom. They first have to struggle to get there. And then they must continue to fight to cling to their place. And then, as Govind Namdeo playing Mahi's quietly faithful secretary tells her: "An actress' life-span is by its very nature limited".
Not that we haven't heard such wisdom on the show world before. The dialogues could have been far more powerful. Instead they try to shock with a casual candour that fails to ignite the scenes.
Kareena Kapoor in the best performance of her career so far, leads Mahi's character through the murky labyrinth of ambition, rivalry and self-destructive tricks of survival in the rat race. Though her character is inconsistent (suffering, we are told, from bipolar disorder or is it just the writer's vagaries?) Kareena furnishes the heroine's character with a rare vulnerability and an exceptional inner life.
In the film's rawest moments when the star's mask peels off completely, Kareena's face shows that stricken expression of naked panic and abject solitude that one last saw in the performance of Tabu in Mira Nair's "The Namesake" after her husband's sudden death.
Stardom kills you bit by bit. Kareena bravely undertakes Mahi Khanna's perilous journey from the top to the bottom of the star-ladder. This is Kareena's most fearless performance to date.
Interestingly this is the second film in three weeks where a desperate falling star resorts to the dirtiest of measures to retrieve her stardom. Raaz ki baat to yeh hai ki "Heroine" sidesteps all the cliches of the film industry even while plonking the plot pat into those predictable places.
So does Bhandarkar's film exaggerate the sham that underlines the shindig of showbiz? The answer is, yes. "Heroine" is guilty of gross excesses. There are too many unnecessary characters,specially in the first-half bustling around in clumsily staged ramp shows, awards functions and filmy parties claiming our attention.
Once Bhandarkar and his co-writers Manoj Tyagi, Nilanjan Iyenger and Anuradha Tiwary get over their look-we-know-showbiz-in-and-out fetish, the narrative finally settles down to telling us Mahi's story vis-a-vis the two men in her life, the star Aryan Khanna (Arjun Rampal) and the cricketer Angad Pal (Randeep Hooda).
Though Rampal's character reminded me of Arbaaz Khan in Bhandarkar's "Fashion", both are characters despite their uni-dimensional nature and are brought to life by two of our most interesting actors today.
At least three other stand-out performances that burnish Bhandarkar's flawed but fabulous film are those by Divya Dutt playing Mahi's ruthless business manager who occasionally surprises herself by feeling real emotions for the fast-fading actress, Ranveer Shorey as the eccentric egomaniacal arthouse filmmaker from Bengal and Shahana Goswami as Mahi's Bengali co-actor in one of the film's finest episodes when Mahi, in a defiant attempt to show she is star who can act, has a disastrous trust with realistic cinema.
In fact, Shahana and Kareena share some of the film's most special moments. Bhandarkar over-juices some of the film's sensual possibilities, under-develops some of the more engrossing characters, for example the yesteryears' star played by Helen.
The love-making scenes are done fitfully and hastily. And the dialogues (most of them sounding profound without actually meaning anything really substantial) are spoken by the actors in the tone of a radio play.
But "Heroine" still works, and works wonderfully in some places. There's an inconsistency to the storytelling that works effectively in putting the protagonist's deeply flawed and fractured character into a pulsating perspective wherein we can no longer distinguish between the fatal flaws of the main character and the action and reactions that have been written to define her flawed existence.
You come away from the film haunted by Kareena Kapoor who plays the disembodied diva with devastating honesty. Bhandarkar rips into the artifice of showbiz with vigour and tenderness. Like its heroine, the film is flawed, but also bewildering, beguiling and yes, beautiful.

Kamaal Dhamaal Malamaal Hindi Movie Online

Film: Kamaal Dhamaal Malamaal
Starring: Nana Patekar, Shreyas Talpade, Madhurima
Director: Priyadarshan
Producer: Percept Picture Company
Banner: Percept Picture Company
Music: Sajid-Wajid














If you can overlook the outrageous suggestion that Nana Patekar could be Om Puri's son, then you're in for some clean, healthy, wholesome and engaging fun in this comic drama about a stranger who walks into a Catholic village and changes malfunctional lives with his positivity.
Does the reformation in the Church theme ring a bell? Films of Hrishikesh Mukherjee - "Anand", "Bawarchi", "Buddha Mil Gaya" and "Khubsoorat" - attempted the same theme of the whimsical but endearing stranger who walks in with an eccentric agenda to change jaded lives.
Priyadarshan's parodic populace is a city of eccentricity. Rural or urban, the characters are whimsical, stubborn, and oddly out of step with the socio-political reality of the world that they seem to inhabit from the fringes without being able to position themselves in the mainstream.
"Kamaal Dhamaal Malamaal" (KDM) gives us Priyan's people at their quirkiest. There is a farmer Om Puri who lives here with his wife (Sona Nair), two daughters and a wastrel of a son (played with superb slothfulness by Shreyas Talpade) in whose life comes a dark brooding stranger Nana Patekar who be any of many things - a long-lost brother, an unwanted bother, a ghost from another world, a blast from the past, a foodie who clean-sweeps all the food on the tablefast! Leaving Om Puri's family aghast.
It is interesting to see how Priyadarshan brings into play a small church-based village community's affinity to religion, courtship and domestic politics. Here is a village sustaining itself at the grassroots with spirited hilarity, often self-directed.
Though a little tongue-in-cheek if not altogether blasphemous, I was tickled by the heroine's female bodyguard (Pratima Kazmi)'s one-sided passion for the priest played with Asrani in an ill-fitting cassock. This audacious plot-track was more outrageously comical than newbie Madhurima Bannerjee's endless courtship with the eminently unlikeable wimp (Shreyas).
This isn't the first Priyadarshan film where the pampered heiress is protected from male attention by her slew of bullying brothers. Earlier Kareena Kapoor was similarly guarded from Akshaye Khanna's attention in "Hulchal".
Recurrent themes often give Priyadarshan comedies a sinking sense of sameness. A remake of a Malayalam film "Marykundoro Kunjaado", KDM is one of Priyadarshan's better potboilers in recent times.
He hasn't been able to do away with a regional flavour in the story. The cloistered gossip-mongering Keral village may seem odd to Hindi-speaking audiences. But the film has been shot by R. Ganesh in a beautiful lakeside township. There are lush images of fields and meadows. The climactic chase catches Nana and Shreyas running through a harvest-ready field in the dead of the night. It's an arresting image, framed and shot with care.
Though Neeraj Vora's dialogues have seen better digs, they capture the ethos of eccentric antics well. The actors are all in the mood to have fun.
Tucked away in this rumbustious drama of mistaken identity and godforsaken raillery is a message on trust, belief and honesty. All of this is put forward with zero dependence on vulgarity.
The double meaning is restricted to the ambivalence of the characters. The principal actors specially duly deadpan Nana; blissfully and brazenly self-serving Shreyas; incredibly unselfconscious Om Puri, wickedly ironic Paresh and Neera Vora - a scream as a coffin maker who prays for the dying to be dead - get into the swing of things. They lend a layering to the laughter.
An interesting film, and far superior to the prolific Priyadarshan's other recent comedies like "De Dana Dan", "Khatta Meetha" and "Malamaal Weekly", a prequel to KDM.

Oh My God Hindi Movie Online

Film: Oh My God
Starring: Paresh Rawal, Akshay Kumar, Mithun Chakraborty
Director: Umesh Shukla
Producer: Akshay Kumar, Ashvini Yardi, Paresh Rawal
Banner: Playtime Creations, Grazing Goat Productions, Viac
Music: Himesh Reshammiya












For popular art, it is considered taboo to question religious dogma. Somewhere deep within us we all know ritualistic religiosity is a multi-crore business in our country. But who dares to raise a voice against the deplorable extravagance which is meant to please the Gods?
That amazingly skilled actor Paresh Rawal does exactly that. He raises a voice against organised religion and the merchandising of faith whereby a common man's threshold of belief in the divine power is weighed against the amount of money he rustles up to appease the Gods. The point, made with telling acerbity in OMG is that God doesn't want our money.
Then who is pocketing the billions that flow into the religious industry each year in the name of God?
Based on a long-running play, OMG adapts the delicious premise of the staged event, questioning not the presence of God but the absence of sincerity in His self-appointed minions. That Paresh Rawal reprises his role of Kanjilal, the non-believer who drags 'God' to court, is a stroke of luck for this arresting adaptation. He rattles off the most iconoclastic lines in the most convincing and endearing tones rendering the figureheads of organised religions into redundant blubbering entities.
And yet-and this is the film's salient triumph -- it doesn't seem to insult or ridicule any religious belief. OMG questions the scared cows without milking those cows for effect. There is an inner strength to the ideas and beliefs put forward in this films. These provide a centrality to the plot that could easily have gotten lost in the maze of philosophical idea and religious cynicism.
The film exudes a powerful scent of sincerity. Much of it can be sourced to Paresh who brings splendid conviction and power to his lines. Mithun Chakraborty gives another brave and believable performance as a Nrityanand-like guru. The delicate feminine touch is just oh-so-delectable. Mithunda, you are a cool cat!
My problem was in watching Akshay Kumar play God. To begin with his role is sketchy in comparison with the sharp lines used for portraying Kanjilal. In the absence of an existential persuasion in his arguments 'God', Akshay Kumar resorts to homilies and half-smiles all flashed in a hazily captured image of a God who rides a Harley Davidson.
While Paresh's non-believer is infused in believability, Akshay's God fails to take off.
But the film works, because it tears into sanctimonious manifestations of the very private issue of faith and religion, challenging the God-men to a game of mental chess that leaves the religious charlatans looking helpless and defenceless.
On the minus side there is a conspicuous staginess in the verbosity that is ironically the backbone of the proceedings. A film like OMG is near-extinct in mainstream Hindi cinema. It dares to raise questions that mass-oriented cinema generally shies away from. For this display of creative daring, producer Akshay Kumar may be excused his vanity of playing God.
Interesting, thought-provoking and based on a novel premise (sue God!) OMG is a delightful little creation that challenges the merchandising of religion, no offence meant to the temples of doom. Paresh is outstanding in making irreverence seem endearing. Thank God for good actors.

English Vinglish Hindi Movie Online

Film: English Vinglish
Starring: Sridevi,Mehdi Nebbou,Priya Anand,Adil Hussain,Amitabh Bachchan
Director: Gauri Shinde
Producer: Sunil A Lulla, Rakesh Jhunjhunwala, R. Balki
Banner: Eros International,Hope Productions
Music: Amit Trivedi













There are no villains in "English Vinglish". Only imperfect human beings like you and I, who make that common error of taking loved ones for granted.
Admit it. At some point in our lives we have all felt that if we don't speak good English, we are not destined to be successful human beings. Imagine a housewife - beautiful, efficient, charming, supportive - and imagine if she looks like, well, Sridevi and still feels she is being taken for granted just because she can't speak fluent Angrezi.
Shashi's children find her embarrassing at times. Her husband openly cracks jokes about her accent. Shashi's husband thinks he's just being urbane and witty. But it hurts. We see that hurt in Sridevi's eyes each time she is slighted and snubbed by those whom she loves the most.
We know this world. We know this woman too. Director Gauri Shinde brings to the comfort of the familiar a feeling and flavour of wonderment, discovery and beauty.
"English Vinglish" is a fabulous fable of a woman's self-actualization. Shabana Azmi used to do such films in the 1970s. The issues in those films about unfulfilled wives were largely socially-defined - infidelity, adultery and betrayal. The betrayal of the unforgettable woman in "English Vinglish" is far less dramatic and therefore much more profoundly deep-rooted.
Shashi breaks up a little every time the three most important people in her life - her husband, daughter and son - crack up at her vernacular accent.
Then comes the chance for redemption. A five-week vacation in the US, a clandestine crash course in English and best of all, a chance to feel wanted and special when a fellow-classmate, a quietly striking French chef, gives Shashi the attention she doesn't get from her husband.
This is the complete middle-class woman's fantasy. Go out on your own and find happiness. Shinde wins over the audience at the story level itself. And then as a bonus, she proves herself a master storyteller.
Sure, Shinde gets a tremendous boost from cinematographer Laxman Utekar who captures New York in its quiet mellow state of bustling grace; composer Amit Trivedi's music simply and fluently melts into the theme and storytelling; and editor Hemanti Sarkar cuts the footage the way Shashi would cut her vegetables, precisely, lovingly and without anxiety.
Finally it's really the director's call.
In what I rank as the best debut by a female director since Aparna Sen's "36 Chowringee Lane", Shinde imbues a majestic mellowness and an unostentatious glow to the story of Shashi's coming-of-age saga. Shashi's ennui is not the in-your-face tragic pathos of Madhabi Mukherjee in Satyajit Ray's "Charulata" or Shabana in "Ek Pal". No case-history of domestic torture is built for our heroine. And no, the husband, played by Adil Hussain, brilliant in a thankless role, is not a cad sneaking into another woman's bed.
The narration doesn't try to pin its resplendent protagonist's life down to boomarked vignettes suggesting a violent need to be liberated from her domestic life. It's all very routine, recognisable and familiar.
The miracle of watching "English Vinglish" confer such a supple and contoured shape to Shashi's life is attributable to the director's high-concept theme and treatment. Shinde abhors overstatement. You hardly ever see Shashi break down. And so when the awards fall into Sridevi's lap at the yearend the nomination clip won't be the woman who suffers wracking trauma stereotype.
Nope. This woman is far more special than the bored housewives who look for an alibi to burst into their own version of 'Kaaton se kheench key yeh aanchal' to justify their succulent bites into the forbidden fruit. Sridevi simply sinks into the Big Apple, biting off juicy mouthfuls of New York's sobering cultural grace absorbing the cultural shock with a dignity that films about journeys tend to undervalue. Not this one.
"English Vinglish" a delectable geographical and emotional journey undertaken with a refreshing absence of bravura and selfcongratulation.
Much of Shashi's inner power comes from Sridevi owning the role. This actress simply vanishes into her character living every breath of Shashi's voyage from laddoo-making to self-actualisation. The journey is so excitng for us the audience because we feel a new world of experiences unravel for Shashi even as she savours the newness of it all.
Sridevi is the film's backbone. To her good fortune, and ours, the film is supported by a uniformly impeccable cast. Hardly ever in recent times have I seen so many wonderful performers in one film who don't seem to 'perform' at all. Whether it's Shashi's immediate family, or her sister's family in the US, and her classmates at the coaching institute - every character stays with us. Every person populating the plot is vididly sketched.
Finally, of course, this is Sridevi's film. In the past she has given outstanding performances in awful films like "Nagina" and "Judaai". Here her inviolable virtuosity and exceptional grace get brilliant support from every department of the film.
Specially memorable are her scenes with her French co-star Mehdi Nebbou who is so splendidly supportive, we forget what a major star he is in France.
Each time the two get passionate and emotional about one another, they speak in their native tongues, certain that their words would not impede the meaning of their thought expression.
Words, this beautiful work of unassuming art tells us, are redundant. More so, when the embodiment of silent eloquence Sridevi needs to express her inner thoughts. She never allows her character to look like a victim. That is the real triumph of "English Vinglish".
Sublime, subtle, seductive and thoroughly engaging "English Vinglish" is in some ways, a life-changing experience. It turns around the male gaze, making patriarchal tyranny seem like an acceptable tradition that we never thought we needed to break. With oodles of persuasive charm, the director breaks down the bastion of male pride with a film that generations will look back on with affection. As for the incandescent Sridevi, was she really away for 16 years? She makes the contemporary actresses, even the coolest ones, look like jokes with her flawless interpretation of a woman who seeks only respect because love, she already has.
Flaws? Yes one. Amitabh Bachchan's cameo, interesting as it is, overstays its welcome. Actually Shinde plays the Big B the best possible compliment in the opening credits: "100 Years Of Indian cinema 70 Years Of Amitabh Bachchan."
To that we can add, a good 40 years of Sridevi. If you watch only two films every year make sure you see "English Vinglish" twice!

Aiyyaa Hindi Movie Online

Film: Aiyyaa
Starring: Rani Mukherjee, Prithviraj,Amey Wagh
Director: Sachin Kundalkar
Producer: Anurag Kashyap, Guneet Monga
Banner: Viacom 18 Motion Pictures, AKFPL Production
Music: Amit Trivedi













Somewhere towards the 'grind' finale, when you are grinding your teeth in exasperation at the banality of the burlesque, a hideous character named Gagabai is seen slithering dancing and cavorting all over a set that looks like a psychedelic nightmare-scape from Anurag Kashyap's "Dev D". This Lady Gaga in "Aiyyaa" sings, "Do do do me" to a leery lad who has seen better 'daze'. Demurring to Gaga's do-able proposition lanky lad replies,"I do with my hand".
Ahem. At this point the director seems to have completely lost the plot. "Aiyyaa" is a film that thrives on the mood of unmitigated zaniness. For those who like their comedy with a heavy layering of wistful fantasy it's quite an experience. Wacky and funny on the top, the world of the protagonist Meenaxi(Rani Mukerji) is dark and sombre beneath. It's a tough mood creation marred by the director's stubborn refusal to let the narrative make up its mind whether it wants to do a homage or a spoof to the fantasy-cinema of the 1980s.
So here's the thing. Director Kundalkar, who seems to think wackiness is a tremendous cinematic virtue, begins by showing Meenaxi as a middle class Maharastrian girl constantly fantasising about being in Madhuri Dixit's and Sridevi's song sequences from "Tezaab" and "Mr India".
In case we miss the point there is a Vividh Bharti styled announcement about the source material. But as the narrative groans ahead it gets awed and finally defeated by its own eccentricity. The song sequences sacrifice their spoofiness to let Rani slither in sensuous belly dances and other high-concept gyrations, each of which must have cost more than Meenaxi's fey family's food budget for the whole year.
Homage or high-definition item songs, Rani, by jove, has a ball dancing to the spoofy and the sensuous beats of Amit Trivedi's mood-perfect tunes. She embraces her character, makes Meenaxi's contradictions and whims her own to the point that we are almost willing to excuse the film's innate discrepancies and annoying goofiness.
What a year this has been for the female powerhouse performers! First there was Vidya Balan in "Kahaani", then Priyanka Chopra in "Barfi!". Just last week Sridevi exuded an enduring ethereality on "English Vinglish". And now Rani simply wows us with her interpretation of the middle class dreamer's part.
She's played the downmarket dreamer before, in "Bunty Aur Babli". Rani lets the working class wannabe's imagination take wings to soar eagle-like in the sky that, alas, gets progressively clouded and murky.
Very often, Meenaxi's home and life would remind you of Ram Gopal Varma's "Rangeela" while her rapport with her trying-hard-to-be-understanding fiance (Subodh Bhave, excellent) harks back to Jaya Bhaduri's "Bole re papihara" days in Hrishikesh Mukherjee's "Guddi". Subodh Bhave's description of his love for the cinema of Farooq Shaikh and Deepti Naval with Jagjit Singh's "Tumko dekha to yeh khayaal aaya" from the film "Saath Saath" thrown in for good measure, and with Rani's character trying hard to follow her fiance's love for nostalgia, are brilliantly tongue-in-cheek.
Alas, the tongue gets progressively wedged in the cheek. And finally the film loses any claim to a coherent voice. We are soon looking at characters and situations that belong to a lunatic asylum. Meenaxi's friend Gagabai's overpowering trashiness and the wheelchaired grandmother's excessive exuberance set your teeth on edge. To anyone who thought these over-the-top (and how!) characters would actually appear funny on screen I say, get a laugh, guys.
What works, and works beautifully, is the central Rani-Prithviraj romance . "Aiyyaa" is actually a film about a girl who longs to escape her garbage dump existence, falls in love with a man who smells good and stalks the scented silent sinister stranger to a finale that is tragically far from ambrosial or enigmatic.
No Hindi film has explored the sensuous aspect of smells so effectively. Every time the South Indian brooder (Prithviraj, effectively in-mood) passes by Rani inhales as though she had just felt eternity in her nostrils. There are some interestingly composed shots of Rani stalking her scented lover-boy through a crowded palate of sounds and colours.
Also brilliant is Rani's brief attempts to touch her fantasy-man's Tamilian background by taking a crash course in Chennai etiquette from a cocky Dravidian chaiwalla boy(Pakadi Pandi, superb) and also by gate-crashing into his home to befriend his South Indian mother.
The director messes up a chance to let Rani's inherent exuberance sing and dance across the length and breath of the film's canvas. He keeps placing the spontaneous actress into ridiculously compromised situations. It is to Rani's credit that she survives all the bumps and belly aches that this weird yet watchable film serves up.
Yes, Rani gets a firm grip on the intriguing flavour of this out-of-the-box comedy. To a large extent she redeems this fatally flawed farce. But honestly you need nerves of steel to withstand those chilling close-ups of Gagabai.
Don't hold your breath. That sweet smell in Rani's nostrils is not fated to be ours, not in this film.