EXCLUSIVE: CBFC blurs condom brand names in Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai; visually edits shots with names of Ben Stokes, Jos Butler

IPL has ended and the flow of releases will now begin in full force this Friday, June 5. The first major Bollywood release of the season is Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai and it has generated excitement due to its fun-filled trailers, songs, casting and also because it is directed by the veteran filmmaker, David Dhawan. The makers completed the censor process last week, well in time; in this article, Bollywood Hungama will exclusively focus on the cuts given to the comic caper. The Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) passed Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai with a U/A 16+ certificate. However, the makers asked for several modifications. At four places, the CBFC’s Examining Committee (EC) asked for a word to be replaced with an appropriate term. A visual of a vulgar hand gesture was also asked to be replaced. Then, the name of the condom brand was blurred while the word indicating the flavour names was asked to be muted. A shot featuring the names of Jos Butler and Ben Stokes was visua...

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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