102 Not Out


                        * * * This review may contain spoilers * * * 

At one point in 102 Not Out, Amitabh Bachchan’s character tells his friend, “Never ever did I kill myself to continue living.” 

This may seem like a hackneyed notion, that appears in the ‘thought of the day’ section of a newspaper. But a look at our daily routines may reveal that the goal of every moment of our day is to achieve the coveted 'perfection', ‘order’, ‘efficiency’, ‘discipline’, and ‘punctuality’. The whole objective of being ‘in order’ is to make life easier. But seldom do we take a minute to appreciate and experience the fruits of an easier life. Is it then not counterproductive if we are burdened both physically and mentally by the activities to maintain ‘order’ instead of enjoying the outcome of this achieved ‘order’?

The above is the central theme of 102 Not Out, but the film also poses other questions that compel us to introspect deeply.

Why do we occupy ourselves with those who think poorly of us? Why can’t we forget about those who have forgotten about us? Why can we not think of the highs of the relationship and derive happiness rather than drown ourselves in misery by focusing on the lows?


When our loved ones depart after a long and happy life, why do we mourn their death more than celebrating their life? Why does the mention of a long departed beloved bring a tear to our eye rather than a smile on our face? Was death the only accomplishment for the departed?  

102 Not Out has Amitabh Bachchan’s zestful centenarian attempt to help his perennially cantankerous son Rishi Kapoor find the answers to the above questions and hopefully rediscover the joys of being. There is no elixir of life that will miraculously cure all, he has to traverse his own path to revive his paradise. 



Despite these seemingly serious themes, this is not an Ingmar Bergman film that morosely delves into the dark crevices of human emotions, instead, the film examines the predicaments of its protagonists through the prism of humor. Scriptwriter Soumya Joshi manages to accomplish the difficult task of ‘opening up’ the play upon which the film is based on, to make it cinematic. He also maintains the delicate balance between humor and emotions all through, all of which emanates effortlessly through the circumstances of the characters.

An interesting trivia about this film is its duration of 102 minutes. The editor of the film Bodhaditya Banerjee deserves a hat tip for achieving this feat of brevity by keeping the pace swift and breezy, such that you yearn for more when the end credits roll. The film follows a minimalistic approach, hence do not get detailed backstories about characters in the form of flashbacks or lengthy expositions. Instead, it is left to the audience to draw their inferences based on the conversations and behavior of the principle characters. The importance of understatement cannot be overstated!



Unlike other films that dealt with similar themes, 102 Not Out never resorts to sappy sentimentality or emotional manipulation of the audience through the exploitative overamplification of hardships of its characters. There are some oddly contrived moments stand out but are too few to harm the merit of the film, ironically these scenes received the most cheers.

The jazzy score by Salim-Sulaiman, particularly during the titles sets the tone of the film as warm and nostalgic but always joyous. Laxman Utekar’s vibrant cinematography manages to convey the essence of the film and captures beautifully the great city of Mumbai which is perhaps the fourth character in the film. Mansi Dhruv Mehta's lively set designs add to the light touch of the film, nice touch of a black and white photo of a young Big B adorning the walls of their home. Yes, this is a depiction of reality but with a little bit of sweet and colorful candy. A special mention to the clever juxtaposition of Chaplin during some of the film’s funny and poignant moments. 




For juggling all these elements and seldom dropping any, for handling the hilarious moments as well as the emotional moments with equal finesse, for extracting the best from his resources and above all for keeping it terse, director Umesh Shukla deserves to be lauded.

The greatest joys of this production are the superstars of the film. Amitabh Bachchan’s witty, wavy-haired and vibrant centenarian is the life of the proceedings. Despite the demonstrative display of ebullience, Bachchan never allows the deep concern for the welling of his son to escape our attention, conveyed often in moments of silence or the way he places his hand gently on his son’s back or covers him with a blanket at night or merely gazes at his son. Rishi Kapoor does well, particularly in moments of silence as he does when he is exasperated with his eccentric father.

In conclusion, this is a film with heart, soul, and wit. I watched it with a packed participative audience that cheered and applauded all through the proceedings, then lamented that it was all over too soon. 

PS: Do not miss this energetic and infectious song aptly titled Badumbaaa, composed, arranged and performed by the big man himself Amitabh Bachchan. Played only after the end credits rolled, by which time most in the cinema presumed it was no longer in. I wonder why this could not have been in the film?


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