Metro… In Dino
U/A: Drama, romance
Dir: Anurag Basu
Cast: Aditya Roy Kapur, Sara Ali Khan, Pankaj Tripathi, Konkona Sensharma, Neena Gupta, Anupam Kher, Fatima Sana Shaikh, Ali Fazal
Rating: 4/5
Frankly, I don’t think I’ve seen a film lately that so belongs to its times as Metro In Dino.
And I don’t mean this in a way of how it is, after all, a movie with multiple characters, across age groups, going through relationship crises of sorts. What with choice killing love, in its own way.
Sure, that’s there.
But I’m really referring to how this film has been shot and edited, or rather how it flows — cutting through flickering images for scenes, that barely last longer than a minute, before switching to another character/story, and yet another.
As if the entire film was actually a three hours’ long trailer; a pastiche/montage. More fittingly, a series of stunning Instagram Reels.
To the extent that the technically sound writer-director-producer Anurag Basu, among the most visual of Indian filmmakers, could’ve even shot this brightly lit compilation of fine vignettes as a vertical video.
That’s how we consume content (on our phones). And that’s where this pic chiefly derives its currency from. There isn’t a moment to spare, or get far too deep into emotions. You inhale the scenery, smile at the characters, and marvel at the moments, instead.
There are quite a few occasions when you’re likely to go, “What a shot!” As it is, it’s never so much about what you wanna say, but how you say it; no?
Metro In Dino is, firstly, a musical. You’re made aware of that from the get-go. As in the long opening credit sequence, where the characters break into a song, mid-conversation.
Likewise, break the fourth wall, to talk directly to the audience — about how, for instance, their life might seem perfect, but that’s because of their social media posts; another one feels they’re in a relationship that fits each other like a glove.
There’s a ‘Metro band’, with composer Pritam, singer Papon and others, always at the corner of the screen, playing their music, often for transition sequences. Stories have basically been weaved through a soundtrack, rather than the other way around.
And these are some great songs for the sort of assorted album that Bollywood was once known for, including lilting melodies, and soulful lyrics.
My favourite, by far, is the track, Aur mohabbat kitni karoon — instantly takes you back to the RD Burman ditty, Waadiyan mera daaman from Abhilasha (1968).
What’s the film about, though? Well, basically, humans doing human stuff — dealing with anger, hope, regret, jealousy, confusion… And, it appears, for the most part, everyone loves something/somebody else.
What binds them? I guess, Life… in a Metro, the title of Basu’s 2007 film, along the same lines. To be fair, his equally exciting Ludo (2020) was a similar romp; only in the action-packed thriller space, instead of a romcom.
What draws you to the characters here, offering a slice of their life in Delhi, Mumbai, Pune, Bengaluru, Goa…? Foremost, that pretty much all of them, barring a couple of exceptions, are such fine actors. They make you wanna look at them.
So, you start to empathise with the old woman (Neena Gupta), who’s spent her whole life sticking to a marriage because, maybe, there was nowhere else to go.
Or her two daughters, one of whom (Sara Ali Khan) could end up the same route; and the other (Konkona Sensharma), who’s probably in a dull marriage, or maybe it’s just that the husband (Pankaj Tripathi) is sensing the seven-year-itch.
Which is furthest from the travel blogger (Aditya Roy Kapur; top of the lot), who inevitably falls in lust at first sight.
Or the equally young Ali Fazal’s character, destroying his marriage, because he can’t look beyond his career, that’s stuck between a secure job, and the possibility of following his passion/music instead.
You see what I’m trying to do here that’s seemingly so tough. Which is to give you a gist of so many characters and their separate storylines. I’ve not even covered the breadth of it, and not going to either. It’s for you to watch; not for me to tell.
Of course, it’s hard enough to resolve a story. Imagine attempting to convincingly conclude so many, simultaneously. But that’s essentially Basu’s brilliance. I know people who’ve worked with him closely.
One thing they’ll unfailingly tell you is the entire movie is usually in his head. He then painstakingly stitches them on the edit, taking months, even years. Nobody knows for sure what they’re likely to watch.
His other forte, at least with Metro In Dino, are one-liners, so profound, and delivered so lightly.
And so, you remember that lovely dialogue on “behavioural psychology” to do with “ghar ki chappal syndrome” — the fact that one often stays in relationships, because they feel so comfy.
Or that everybody has a right to be happy — do as you like — so long as you don’t hurt another. That safety kills the drive to take chances.
And, indeed, the central thought, which is that you’ve gotta love the same person again, and again (for the emotion to survive). That’s what you head home with.
The images as an experience is what you stay on for. I could just go back to this film, simply to count the staggering number of locations. Yup, might just go back, you know. Is there a better compliment?