A romantic trip for a city based yuppie couple turns into their
worst nightmare. Throw in an honor killing along with a social commentary on
how India treats her daughters and you have a recipe for a gritty thriller…or not
quite. NH 10 opens well enough. Rowdy bikers in the initial scenes trying to
waylay a solo female motorist is more than enough for the audience to pounce on
Delhi and scream blue murder. Other snippets like the tollbooth exchange about
a recent shootout leave nothing to the imagination about the NCRs badlands
credentials. I liked how a parallel was drawn between men, their ego and how
thin the line is for them to be driven over it and commit violence, regardless
of their social class. The husband’s reckless driving of the Fortuner after he
is slapped around by a murderous posse drives home this point. The film overall
makes a scathing indictment of how in India, an excuse for violence is found in
our primal belief around women being less of human beings and more of objects
over which clan honor is earned and lost.
The narrative leading halfway into the film is taut, tense and
keeps you on tenterhooks. It is the latter half with Anushka hogging most of
the screen time is when the film’s Bollywood credentials come to the fore. The
cheap thrills are unnecessary, Anushkha’s sporadic limping interspersed with
some spirited running keep the audience guessing about how injured she really
is and finally, her transformation into Kill Bill, hacking her tormentors to
bits, takes the proverbial cake, icing and all. That’s when the film stopped
being an edge of the seat thriller and became something straight out of the
Milla Jovovich school of acting.
A good possibility let down by multiplex compulsions.
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