20th anniversary EXCLUSIVE: Madhur Bhandarkar says corporate booking, in a healthy manner, began with Corporate: "Half-day was declared in some offices; employees were encouraged to watch the film"; reveals, "Many people STOPPED consuming soft drinks after watching it!"

Corporate (2006) completed 20 years on July 7 and it’s a film that Madhur Bhandarkar considers his favourite. Starring Bipasha Basu, Kay Kay Menon, Raj Babbar and Rajat Kapoor, the film was loved for its subject, shocking climax, performances, music, etc. Despite dealing with the complex worlds of corporate business and the stock market, the narrative was easy to understand, an aspect that was widely praised by audiences and critics alike. On Corporate’s 20th anniversary, Madhur Bhandarkar went down memory lane and shared fascinating trivia. You had made Page 3 (2005) and it was a sleeper-hit. What made you make a film on the corporate world at that stage? Corporate was a film which was ahead of its time. It was a very different world for me. I didn’t have a story. The title fascinated me and I decided to make Corporate, obviously based on the corporate world. I collaborated with writer Manoj Tyagi, who had written Satta (2003) and Page 3 with me. He was an MBA guy and had a lot of kn...

Grace review – monumentally odd father-daughter odyssey via mobile cinema

Travelling across Russia in mostly silence, Ilya Povolotsky’s debut feature has a strange confidence in its own insistent dispiritedness

With long journeys in a red camper van, long unbroken shots of shattered Caucasian landscapes, and very long silences between its alienated father and daughter, Ilya Povolotsky’s debut feature has a strange confidence in its own monumental dispiritedness. “I want to know that you have a plan,” says the teenager. “And that we won’t get stuck somewhere outside Khabarovsk with a chicken and a sad librarian woman.” This being a Russian art film, you wouldn’t bet against it.

The two unnamed characters, played by Maria Lukyanova and Gela Chitava, are making their way across the country for unspecified reasons, other than her desire to see the sea. They run a small mobile cinema out of their van for wan residents of purgatorial steppe towns and flog snacks and porn by night at sketchy truck stops for the hauliers who aren’t with sex workers. The father has transient liaisons of his own, adding an accusatory edge to his daughter’s faraway gaze, frequently fixed on nothing. Things aren’t looking up when they reach the sea; local people are scooping dead fish off the foreshore. “Fish plague,” says a police officer. “You’d better leave now.”

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