Hindi
Heropanti: Of a one man army
MUMBAI: There are a few oddities about Heropanti, probably created on purpose. The film is identified with the 1983 film Hero which launched, Jackie Shroff, the father of the hero of Heropanti, Tiger Shroff. All that is common between Hero and Heropanti is that the latter uses the signature flute tune of Hero, that too in a badly slaughtered and remixed version. The genes of both films have nothing in common. This film seems to have been made on a shoestring budget with the intent of cashing in on Jackie Shroff’s goodwill of over 30 years and freshness of Tiger Shroff.
In fact, Heropanti resembles any south Indian film where a strong family with a lot of muscle power finds suitors for its daughters in a similar family status. Even the treatment meted out is like any recent south film though here the strong muscle-wielding family is Jat, who don’t mind killing their own daughter if she marries outside of the family arrangement.
The story goes like this: the daughter of the most dreaded Jat Chaudhary, played by Prakash Raj, has eloped with her lover on her wedding day (in films they have to vanish from the mandap for greater effect). The Chaudhary is devastated as his izzat is at stake. He decides to follow the tradition, find his daughter and her lover and kill them. To find them, he rounds up the guy’s friends because they should know where the couple has gone. While the two friends are easily picked up and half beaten to death and imprisoned, the third one, Tiger, is not as easy to handle. He bashes up all of Prakash’s goons until he is taken by surprise.
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Director: Sabbir Khan. Cast: Tiger Shroff, Kriti Sanon, Prakash Raj, Vikram Singh. |
Producer: Sajid Nadiadwala.
Tiger too is locked up in a barn with his other friends and they try to escape on the first opportunity. However, Tiger wastes the chance when he spots the girl he had fallen in love at first sight back in Delhi. He decides to stay back, track the girl and win her over. As happens in film stories, the girl he loves is the Chaudhary’s other daughter. Chaudhary, who is overly possessive about his daughters and can’t bear to think that his daughters can love somebody else more than they love him.
As Tiger displays his prowess with action and dancing while chasing his love, the second half of the film succeeds in generating more interest than the earlier part which dragged a lot. In fact, with no known face except Prakash Raj, the film is all about Tiger’s abilities.
The fact is, Heropanti, like its title, is forced (the real Mumbai slang is Herogiri). While the background of the film is about north Jats, it is made to look like a typical southern film. The direction is shoddy with chalta hai attitude. The dialogue is good in parts. Action is very well shot. The film has two good numbers with well choreographed dance moves. Performance wise, Tiger excels in action and dance but needs to improve in dialogue delivery. Kriti Sanon is a mismatch with Tiger; she looks much more mature and manly. Prakash Raj is his usual self. Rest of the goons are okay.
Heropanti has opened to over 50 per cent houses which are very good for a new face film and considering its budget. The film should jump to plus side on its first weekend of business thanks to curiosity to watch Tiger.
Hindi
Remembering Gyan Sahay, the lens behind film, television and advertising
From a puppet rabbit selling poppadums to Hindi cinema, he framed it all.
MUMBAI: There are careers, and then there are canvases. Gyan Sahay, the veteran cinematographer, director, and producer who passed away on 10 March 2026 in Mumbai, had one of the latter. Over several decades in the Indian film and television industry, he turned lenses, lights, and the occasional puppet rabbit into something approaching art.
A graduate of the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) in Pune, Sahay built his reputation as a director of photography across a career that stretched from the early 1970s all the way to the digital age. He was the kind of craftsman who understood that a well-composed shot is not merely a technical achievement but a quiet act of storytelling.
For most Indians of a certain age, however, Sahay will forever be the man behind the rabbit. His direction of the iconic long-running television commercial for Lijjat Papad, featuring its now-legendary puppet bunny, gave the country one of its most cheerfully persistent advertising images. It was the sort of work that sneaks into the national subconscious and takes up permanent residence.
His big-screen credits as cinematographer include Anokhi Pehchan (1972), Pagli (1974), Pas de Deux (1981), and Hum Farishte Nahin (1988). In 1999, he stepped behind a different kind of camera altogether, making his directorial debut with Sar Ankhon Par, a drama that featured Vikas Bhalla and Shruti Ulfat, with a cameo by Shah Rukh Khan for good measure.
On television, Sahay was particularly prized for his command of multi-camera production setups, a skill that made him a go-to technician for large-scale shows and reality programmes. In an industry that has never been especially patient with complexity, he was the calm hand on the rig.
In later life, Sahay turned teacher. He participated regularly in masterclasses and Digi-Talks, often hosted by organisations such as Bharatiya Chitra Sadhna, sharing hard-won wisdom on cinematography, the comedy of timing in a shot, and the sweeping changes brought by the shift from celluloid to digital. He was also said to have been involved in a project concerning a biographical film on Infosys co-founder N.R. Narayana Murthy.
Tributes from the film industry poured in following the news of his passing, with colleagues remembering him as a senior cameraman who served as a rare bridge between two entirely different eras of Indian cinema. That is, perhaps, the finest thing one can say of any craftsman: he kept up, and he brought others along with him.
