SoumikBanerjee1996

The fundamental premise of "Kalo Pothi" very much evokes memories of Kiarostami's "Where is the Friend's House," a film that I hold in high regard by the way. Both works strive to weave the innocence and naivety of childhood into a broader political and societal narrative.

Whilst the Iranian film achieves this integration with remarkable finesse, maintaining its core theme throughout without hiccups, this Nepali production occasionally strays from its central theme and subject, and this inconsistency ultimately emerge as the primary issue of the writing.

Although I commend the effort put into it, the messaging regrettably resonates with less than half the intended impact.

In a landscape filled with exaggerated and sensationalized courtroom dramas, Tamhane's "Court" stands out as a refreshing departure, offering a perspective devoid of any melodrama or embellishment.

This results in a film that authentically reflects our society. From the confines of the courthouse to the intimate settings of the characters, every aspect is portrayed with a level of realism that is increasingly rare in contemporary form of cinema, much less in mainstream portraitures.

Through his documentary-style approach, Tamhane, as writer and director, skilfully weaves in a multitude of societal issues that urgently require attention, such as the safety of sewage workers, repeal of archaic Victorian laws, and the elimination of religious and caste-based incitement.

Moreover, he provides insightful commentary on women's empowerment, economic inequality, and politicised discrimination, all while ensuring that these themes do not overwhelm the narrative or negate each other's significance.

I have a profound appreciation for directors who like to express their perspectives with subtlety, choosing a more nuanced approach over overt declarations and it seems like Chaitanya Tamhane is one amongst them.

This was my first exposure to his vision, now I'm eager to explore more!

I hold a deep appreciation for filmmakers who delve into the subtleties of storytelling through intricate shot framing. It is particularly commendable when they seamlessly blend their sense of visual artistry with their eloquent expression, conveying their intended messages with recessive nuance rather than overt clarity.

Nuri Bilge Ceylan, the director here too exemplifies this approach beautifully.

I am captivated by how each frame, whether depicting the bustling cityscape or the internal struggles of both Mahmut and Yusuf, effectively conveys the weight of their suppressed frame of mind.

Despite the minimal dialogue exchanged between the characters, their emotions containing guilt, grief, and shame resonate profoundly, emerging organically on screen without imposing or intruding, a quality I truly admire.