Lust Stories 3 Review:
When Lust Stories 2 (2023) came out, my biggest grouse was how every director (barring Konkona Sen Sharma) looked so conscious in broaching ‘lust’ in their stories. That was a complaint some had even with few segments of the first instalment (which were allegedly too infused within a socio-political framework). I am happy to report that the third and latest instalment returns to the original promise, and excels in fulfilling that promise, with flying colours.
Each of the stories in Lust Stories 3 embrace its sexuality with great vigour. There is no beating around the bush anymore, no skirting around. Every narrative is supremely fun and exciting in the way it broaches the idea of sexual desire, taboos, and the ideas of morality (or the lack of it) it comes attached with. The visuals are not covert or symbolic either; the display almost gets too blatant occasionally -- but that's also perhaps the point.
Cast: Aditi Rao Hydari, Ali Fazal, Konkona Sen Sharma, Vijay Varma, Radhika Apte, Siddharth, Radhika Madan, Gurfateh Pirzada
Directed by: Vikramaditya Motwane, Kiran Rao, Shakun Batra, Vishal Bhardwaj
Streaming on: Netflix
It’s particularly refreshing to see how two of the segments, while largely light-hearted in their tonality, touch upon the ideas of guilt and shame, without making the treatment heavy-handed. It’s a co-incidence that both these films keep the female experience at the centre of it. Lust Stories 3 begins with Motwane’s segment, a film about two middle-class women who find the sudden inclination to spice up their lives, even if they might not be ready for the repercussions. There is a brilliant line in this short that goes, “I am ashamed that I am ashamed.” Sumukhi Suresh brings great saucy energy as the dialogue writer, albeit going a tad overboard occasionally. She also brings more weight to the men of this universe, the kind who instantly blurt out ‘I need therapy’ about doing something toxic.
What makes the collab more thrilling is the presence of Konkona Sen Sharma and Radhika Apte at the centre of it, playing Shonali and Padma respectively. Radhika and her nervous giggles lend that perfectly discomforting energy to the premise. The way Motwane resolves his story too is a thing of beauty — a blend of playful and sentiment. The switch from comedy to drama to sentimentality is delicious. Not many are capable of this, and watching this short made me instantly wish for a full-fledged comedy from the maker of Udaan and Lootera.
Only in comparison, but Kiran Rao’s short, about a young couple in an intense yet casual relationship, pales a bit. There is a lot of colour in this film, and yet again, and the Dhobi Ghat filmmaker displays a vibrant curiosity about the Mumbai’s working-class, what drives the city and keeps its migrants driven. (The rap song is astounding). This is also the most brazen and scandalising in its exploration of lust as something instinctive yet taboo.
And yet, with its many twists despite a 35 minute runtime, the film eventually tapers off its tantalising promises, to land on a resolution that could have equally well fitted into any other franchise theme. It feels like a good opportunity wasted — to explore something really dark and exciting. This film about Mumbai and ambitions remains safe at the end of it, because sex returns to becoming means to an end.
On the other end of the spectrum is Shakun Batra’s film about a perennially-in-conflict couple that struggles to find a healthy way to communicate and deal with each other. Sex is at the centre of this relationship, because the two protagonists, Varun and Sailee, are running away from everything else — all paths leads to carnal desire, though not in the most constructive or fulfilling manners. Ali Fazal and Radhika Madan play, with great vulnerability, two broken people who eventually learn to talk to each other even when their relationship is breathing its final moments.
As he is prone to, Shakun Batra gets a little verbose on scripting level. There is a tendency to underline every figment of rumination, but the Gehraiyaan filmmaker also leaves a lot between the lines. This segment also has the most awkward sex moment of the anthology, and the best descriptor for a people-pleaser (“Human Switzerland”). There is a lot of melancholy in this film, the kind that’s not easily understood, but Shakun yet again dares to explore the complex side of human condition. He also has no qualms in acknowledging that often times, the act of sex is not about sex at all.
And like all his previous films, it’s also about addressing deep-seated wounds, and about the profound impact of every parent-child relationship that continues to haunt our present, unless we learn the art of letting go.
But the best is saved for the last, as Aditi Rao Hydari and Vishal Bhardwaj in cahoots deliver an absolute riot of a segment thats equal parts saucy, sexual, sweet, and sentimental.
This is the most fun the Haider filmmaker has had in ages, and that includes the Modern Love - Mumbai short he directed 3 years ago. Out here, there are raunchy verbal puns, brazen visuals built around sexual pleasure, and there’s Siddharth, clearly having a lot of fun, prancing around in a towel, playing the Clark Kent and Superman in Saira’s life, both flaming and dousing her sexual fire.
Amidst all of it, we have a heart-melting equation between a woman who can’t stop thinking and a father whose words cannot be understood by anyone else but her daughter (Gajraj Rao delivering a phenomenal performance.)
Carrying it all is Aditi Rao Hydari in what’s arguably a career-best performance. She captures Saira’s thrills and vulnerabilities so well that you can’t help but feel for her plight. Like Shonali and Padma, Saira too is more prone to guilt and shame than be proud of her wild imaginations. You want to just walk into the screen and remind her of her own words — about what distinguishes sleaze from erotica is the writer’s intention and aesthetic integrity.
Among other things, Vishal Bhardwaj reminds us how we often find refuge in art while dealing with our darkest of secrets and deepest of our fantasies. The deeper one is into reality, the stronger they seek fantasy. And even when we eventually find peace in our reality, the fantasy awaits us, lurking at the sidelines, smiling and taking pride in our growth, all while wearing a towel and nothing else.
