Some romances have a limited elasticity — stretch them too far and they snap in your hand. For all their awkwardness, the scenes in Mussoorie have an underlying sweetness and warmth, with merry stops at maggi and sunset points, Massey and Kapoor not as erroneously mismatched as their ages might suggest. Kapoor, making her debut, is relaxed and confident for the most part, though her crying game is strictly a B-minus (it falls behind cousin Janhvi.) Indeed, this becomes a problem when the film leaps ahead three years, to Europe, with a lot of weeping and yearning taking over the plot. We follow Saba’s winter of discontent, as Jahaan re-enters her life by blind chance (sorry) and tips it over. The auditing of emotions reaches a fever pitch, with big, Bhansali-like ideas weighing down on this modest film.
Shilajit Mitra of The Hindu praised Barzakh for its "achingly, unabashedly artful" approach, noting how it intertwines past and present through its characters' stories.
A lot is conveyed by how Anurag Kashyap directs the two chase sequences in Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat. They feel brisk but truncated: a character tries to escape, succeeds. Much later in the film, he tries again but fails, tragically. As simple as that. No complicated tracking shots through rows of buzzing traffic. Anurag is denying his fans the protracted comic pursuits of Black Friday and Gangs of Wasseypur Part II. It’s like he knows there is no point delaying a losing game.
For 10 episodes of considerable length, Jubilee circles these characters and their shifting fortunes at or beyond Roy Talkies. It gets exhausting; the characters, though well-written and performed, lack the snap and bite of a truly gripping ensemble. More involving, then, is the finer detailing around the edges of the story. Musical sequences, we learn, were recorded live in the old days, resulting in their stagey look and feel (Srikant ventures a solution by introducing lip-syncing). One of the tracks concerns a power struggle between Russian and American agents trying to push their propagandas onto Indian film. There are other foreigners still; a German filmmaker working at Roy Talkies is clearly modeled on Franz Osten, the Bavarian director of films like Achhut Kannya and JeevanNaiya.
It’s a familiar insight from the makers of Kapoor & Sons. What’s unfamiliar, though, are the complex psychologies at play. Deepika has described the film as a ‘domestic noir’, and we come to see why. Alisha and Zain buck the trend of besotted movie leads. Their affair is viewed through, rather than despite of, their material lives. There are two complications that arrive in quick succession, at the same party. It’s the best sequence in the film, fusing larger professional troubles with sudden, private ones. Cinematographer Kaushal Shah accentuates the pinks and teals, in sync with a pop soundtrack. Shakun, more than ever, seems in control of his visual and sonic landscape. There is a hint of Steve McQueen’s Shame—most strikingly in the hotel room scenes overlooking the sea. It’s a moody, handsome production, though I wish we cut away more often from Zain and Tia’s upper-crust world.
Elsewhere, though, the timing is all too precise. You know why Rohan Joshi is making faces at a teammate during a roast; it's because the next joke will be aimed at him. Contestants Aadar Malik and Samay Raina give this away in another set, interrupting themselves to throw the audience. Yet, the problem in Comedy Premium League isn't that the gags are rehearsed, but that none of them yields big laughs. The two debate sets are massive downers. 'Dance of Democracy', a comedy sketch by Tanmay Bhat and team, commenting on China, corona and the US presidential elections, would've been stale in January, but is passed off as topical.
