The four short films in *Lust Stories 3* revolve around female desire, though only one manages to capture that burning, erotic passion with true style.
It is somewhat surprising to see filmmakers of the caliber of Vikramaditya Motwane and Kiran Rao—who have shown glimpses of their true potential in imperfect works like *Black Warrant*, *CTRL*, and *Laapataa Ladies*—stumble so badly with their respective segments in this anthology. However, they make a wise choice: approaching their stories with a light, comedic tone, which makes it easy to dismiss them as "mechanical, disposable work done for a paycheck."
Directors: Shakun Batra, Vishal Bhardwaj, Vikramaditya Motwane
Writers: Shakun Batra, Vishal Bhardwaj, Nitesh Bhatia
Stars: Radhika Apte, Konkona Sen Sharma, Vijay Varma
Motwane’s film opens the anthology; in it, two neighbors and best friends, Padma (Radhika Apte) and Shonali (Konkona Sen Sharma), decide to swap partners after growing weary of their stagnant sex lives. In other words, Shonali will sleep with Padma’s husband, Hemant (Vijay Varma), and Padma will sleep with Shonali’s husband, Debendu (Abhishek Banerjee). The idea stems from a Korean show in which the two protagonists—equally frustrated with their sex lives—decide to swap partners to spice up their routine. A nice, amusing touch is that the Korean show is dubbed into Hindi; consequently, when Padma and Shonali imagine meeting the protagonists, the TV characters appear to speak in those dubbed voices.
At first, Padma hesitates to go through with the plan. She insists she doesn't want to ruin her relationship with Shonali. However, she soon begins to hit it off with Debendu and grow closer to him, while Shonali struggles to get intimate with Hemant—though the reason stems from a lie: Padma tells Shonali that Hemant loves listening to Hindi *ghazals*, a claim that turns out to be false and causes a rift between the two friends. Yet, that rift proves insignificant. Instead of bitter confrontations, only minor conflicts arise—leaving no lasting mark and causing no pain whatsoever. The entire short film conveys a sense of lightness and a lack of substance.
The only memorable image, I suppose, is the one featuring Debendu and Padma as they struggle to remove their clothes amidst the excitement and haste. At least Motwane recognizes how artificial that "fluidity"—with which characters undress before sex in most movies—actually is. The act itself is, in fact, quite awkward and clumsy, involving its fair share of fumbling and stumbling. It is the one thing Motwane gets right in his story.
The anthology's second story is directed by Kiran Rao and centers on twin drug dealers named Karan and Arjun (played by Gurfateh Pirzada in a dual role) who, unbeknownst to each other, begin sleeping with the same girl: Lisa, a manicurist played by Sana Thampi. It is quite amusing to compare Poonam Mathur’s mother character to Rakhee Gulzar’s in the 1995 film *Karan Arjun*, given that her good-for-nothing sons are hardly saviors or avenging spirits returning from the dead. However, Rao’s story focuses more on how women perceive more than the men around them, giving them the upper hand to manipulate the men for their own benefit. Furthermore, the "message" is delivered via a clever twist that works well, as the entire story is framed as a lighthearted game of deception—easier to digest than substantial, relying more on the "gotcha!" moment than on anything truly remarkable.
I would venture to say that this twist is the only strong point of Rao’s story. Without it, the film devolves into trivial erotica with a few shoehorned thriller elements. Even the sex scenes, shot like a cheap imitation of softcore erotica, come across as derivative rather than sensual. Still, at least Rao seems to have smiled throughout the shoot; at least someone had a good time making it.
The third short film, directed by Shakun Batra, is the worst of the anthology. Much like in *Gehraiyaan*, Batra tries so hard to create a "great film" that he fails to make one even worth watching. The short begins with that well-worn cliché of cutting from the wedding day to the day of the divorce—though, in this instance, one doesn't really wonder what happened in the interim. Batra also can't resist over-emphasizing his ideas with mediocre shots—such as the one where a newlywed couple walks up the stairs just as Varun (Ali Fazal) and Sailee (Radhika Madan) are walking down—or with weak dialogue, like the moment Sailee tells Varun how she used to hide the chaos and trash bins in Paris so she could photograph the city exactly as she had imagined it through various movies.
It seems the couple married based on ideas instilled by their parents and society, only to realize that marriage isn't all it was cracked up to be. However, Batra films the drama without vigor or personality. The visuals are polished and conventional, contradicting the chaotic nature of the relationship being depicted.
Like Sailee, Batra hides the clutter and chaos from the frame—or rather, gives the scenes an ultra-stylized finish that makes urban spaces (whether Varun’s apartment or the therapist’s office) look like ideal backdrops for "lived-in" style selfies. Then there are shots like the car interior, with the outside world tinged an oily yellow (due to the rain), or the one where the couple lies on the floor: she on the right, head on a pillow with a glass and bowl beside her; he on the left, positioned diagonally, one leg extended downward and his head turned toward Sailee. Everything and everyone is carefully arranged, as if they were museum exhibits. Or consider the shot of the couple in a restaurant bathed in purple and pink hues; these images look more like mood boards than narrative scenes.
The only element giving the short film character is the acting of Fazal and Madan, who consistently find nuances of honesty in their dialogue and scenes. Thanks to them, Batra’s short is respectable and worthy, though it would have worked better as a feature film with more detail and greater emotional depth. In its current form, the work feels more like a lightweight drama; it is prosaic and forgettable.
"Prosaic" is a word that cannot be applied to the fourth film—the best of the lot—directed by Vishal Bhardwaj. He shows his colleagues what they lack: a distinctive style of their own. I am a fan of this new Bhardwaj; he dares to aim high with his eccentric filmmaking. It is a style that views the everyday through a unique lens. While Motwane, Rao, and Batra approach sex scenes conventionally, Bhardwaj finds new ways to film them, elevating the act itself to a level of eccentricity all its own. When Saira (Aditi Rao Hydari) and Badru (Siddharth) carry out their Friday-night bedroom "ritual," Bhardwaj’s camera captures them separately. He cuts between shots of Saira in bed and Badru hovering over her as they talk and have sex simultaneously. This "separation" amusingly highlights the vast difference in how Badru and Saira experience sex: he reaches orgasm quickly, while she remains unsatisfied. Bhardwaj extends this eccentricity to the performances as well; both Siddharth and Hydari beautifully tune their acting to the rhythm of the overall aesthetic.
Hydari’s exaggerated expressions are so naturally beautiful and comical that they elicit a tender smile. It is a delight to watch her get aroused while reading racy phrases or show embarrassment when reading those same lines. Hydari makes shyness appealing and quirky; it is hard not to be charmed. For his part, Siddharth is hilarious as an attractive, muscular version of Badru—a figure conjured from the mind of a Saira desperate for sexual satisfaction. Together, Siddharth and Hydari come across like live-action cartoon characters, fitting perfectly with Bhardwaj’s eccentric style.
The only thing Bhardwaj’s short film lacks is a solid story. Its lighthearted tone serves a flimsy narrative that fails to truly resonate. While it is great to see Bhardwaj experimenting with visuals, one wishes he had paid more attention to the story's substance. Without a strong hook, the short risks fading away without leaving a lasting impression. What keeps the work afloat is Bhardwaj’s playful touch and the performances of the lead actors.
Even so, this filmmaker’s offering proves more rewarding than the hollow content of the anthology’s other short films. While Bhardwaj may not have fully succeeded, he demonstrates great enthusiasm for aiming high and risking it all in the attempt. If that isn’t ambition, I don’t know what is.
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