Nirimaya Film Review: A Gritty Retelling That Misses the Bus on Execution

🤔😐😒 Rating: 2/5

Alright, Bollywood buffs, it’s your girl, Review Rani, back with another helping of cinematic sarcasm. Today, we’re diving headfirst into a film that attempts to portray the gut-wrenching Nirimaya case. Spoiler alert: it flounders more than a fish out of water.

The film’s narrative, or rather the jigsaw puzzle that pretends to be one, is a retelling of the chilling events that transpired on a bus where a young couple’s evening was turned into a nightmare by a bunch of intoxicated predators. The director, Sharique Minhaj, tries to tread on a path of sensitivity, avoiding graphic visuals and pixelating the scenes that could’ve sent the audience into a collective shudder. But, dear friends, the horrifying shock comes when you realize the film’s focus is more on the bus ride from hell than the overarching issues about safety and crimes against women.

They say the devil is in the details and boy, this film is a prime example. It starts with a judge (played by Anjjan Shrivastav) delivering the death sentence to the culprits. But far from evoking any emotion, the scene is a cringe-fest of flat dialogue and underwhelming performances. The narrative then tries to weave some sort of backstory for Shruti Pandey (Divya Singh) – her family life, relationship, and her bright future in the medical field. But alas, these scenes are as engaging as a lecture on quantum physics after a heavy lunch.

The movie, filmed six years ago, carries the charm of a vintage photo but not in a good way. It feels dated and makes you endure a long sequence of distasteful remarks and conversations between the six intoxicated men. With a runtime of 101 minutes, the film barely scratches the surface of any meaningful elements, resembling a one-note symphony that’s lost its sheet music.

The film’s saving grace, if we can call it that, are the performances of Divya Singh, who brings some authenticity to Shruti’s character, and Neelima Azim, who plays the mother. Their performances have sparks of genuine emotion in this otherwise dreary cinematic landscape. But remember, even a diamond shines brighter when it’s surrounded by coal.

As for the music, it’s as memorable as the name of your third cousin twice removed. Cinematographer Jahangir Molla does his best to avoid nudity or graphic scenes, but the effort feels as forced as a smile in a passport photo.

In the grand scheme of things, this film is like a diet soda – it tries to deliver the full flavor without the calories but ends up tasting flat. The execution is lackluster, and the overall impact is akin to a feather trying to make a dent on a rock.

Rani’s Rap-Up

In the end, this film is like a bad joke – it tries to make a point but forgets the punchline. It’s a classic case of good intentions lost in poor execution. So, my dear Bollywood buffs, if you’re planning to watch it, don’t forget your armor of patience and a truckload of popcorn to get through this. Until next time, this is Review Rani signing off with a yawn and a sigh! 🙄😴