I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

Excellent, a Must See

Yes, absolutely, there is fun to be had, as well as many, many things to go boom, all amid an atmospheric urban jungle.

One of the film's great tricks is that, for a time, you think it will go down a rabbit hole of unrealistic glorification.

The process of realising just how lacking in any sort of grace or overall substance Shekhar Kapur's 1994 film Bandit Queen actually has comes at us as quite a surprise; the film, a grubby little piece dressed up (what with its being in a foreign language, arriving with British funding as well as the cinematic pretenses it purveys throughout) is actually little more than a troublesome rape-'n'-revenge movie duly arriving with a less than subtle feminist tract, is often a trite and dull affair. The film is a mostly empty experience depicting the life of a specific woman whose experiences were anything but devoid of nastiness; a misjudged project often resembling what something like Badlands may have looked like had it been made by Lucio Fulci; an odd spin on the narrative you might find in something like Day of the Woman, a film depicting the odd splash of sexualised violence before the striking back against the state and such begin. The film doesn't know whether it's glorifying bloody revenge; demonising a monstrous ruling state, bloody revenge or glorifying the politics of those in charge. Amidst all the troublesome content, Kapur's decision to round things off with an attempt to create some sort of Gandhi-esque figure out of its lead is just deeply problematic in itself.The film covers a young woman from the ages of eleven to around twenty five. Her name is Phoolan Devi (Biswas), a true to life figure of politics and woman's rights whose plight of abuse and marginalism are here depicted in a nation one is perhaps partial to expecting to be more rife within that of a predominantly Islamic state rather than India. One of the more terrifying things about the film is the fact it unfolds at a time when the 1970s was crossing over into the 1980s, when the attitudes and mentalities depicted therein strike us as more along the lines of what might've occurred in relation to all this stuff as the 1870s crossed over into the 1880s. On top of these ground floor ideas, the film additionally possesses the dusty, swooping sub-continental vistas in its armory: we hope all combining to set up an engaging, taut piece that looks good and comes with a healthy chunk of cinematic substance.Alas, this is not the case. When we start with Devi's life, we begin with young Phoolan in a small stretch of water as an infant, the film offering very little in the form of respite in its documenting of this girl being put through the wringer as it is here in this very first scene a gentleman arrives in search of a bride to be. The girl is called out of the water, clean and cleansed and ready to begin a new life afresh; a sort of metaphorical rebirthing as she wonders out of the fluid ridden pool with an immediate view to leave behind everything in life up to this point, and begin a new one rife which will come to be epitomised by marginalisation and sexism. The film goes on to cover her falling in with a group of bandits when the angered rejection of this man's advances out of sexualised motivated purposes, and the consequent rejection from her home village when she escapes back to it, sees her join up with an amoral group of thugs whose way of life is what it is; Kapur here neatly highlighting the irony lying with the fact her village banishment was down to accusations of indulging in such behavior that eventually leads on to such behavior.The presence of Vikram (Siraswal) is the film's next point of interest, an unrealistic poster boy amidst the other bandits and apparent leader of this ragtag gang whom comes to form a makeshift partner for the lead. Vikram's presence is equally problematic, a male character in the film where there need not be one; a male character who steps in and acts as a physical manifestation of where Phoolan herself should be breaking through transgressive barriers. Annoyingly, his role is to save her from the periodic attempts of rape brought about by that of the other bandits before dictating to her the rules of survival. This verbal confirmation, of what should have been established visually, pertaining to being what the lead herself should have already learnt, is a disappointing inclusion; this relying on an otherwise unnecessary male presence to inform the woman on how to get by, when the pretenses are that Bandit Queen is a piece documenting the harsh realisations a woman goes through when cut loose by a society that rejects her, equally so.The film falls short: a one part-exploitation flick; one part eyebrows down, brow furrowed and hands clenched together beneath one's chin as if studying a chess position piece begging for some sort of contemplation. It wasn't scuzzy enough to be the former and not interesting enough to be the latter, while there is little therein for it to argue itself to be a political text on gender equality in the nation of India. With the sorts of more recent films coming out of this part of the world (namely Iran), one can skip this particular piece and jump to said texts without missing too much.

I saw this movie over 5 years ago and the subject still infuriates me, as it should. Her anger and initiative were inspiring. Not that I would takeover an army and kill people, but the scene at the well and at the rebel strong hold will never leave my mind. This is a great film but be prepared for the strong subject matter.

Although I've only seen two films he's directed, I feel fairly confident in saying that Shekhar Kapur is a "big hammer" kind of craftsman. There are some directors who know that if they use a little hammer, the nail will come in just as straight, but there won't be as much noise. Jim Jarmusch is a good example of a "little hammer" kind of craftsman. He draws very little attention to himself, moves very slowly, and gets to a quality ending, almost without fail. Kapur, as a big hammer filmmaker, does his darnedest to make sure that everything that's onscreen is clear. He leaves virtually nothing to the intelligent viewer's imagination, nothing to figure out. When he finds a good symbol, he uses it over and over, almost until it loses are meaning. When he has themes that can be literalized, he makes sure he does it, rather than letting viewers read into the text. It's all there in its heavy-handed glory. As a little hammer fan, I've found both Elizabeth and Bandit Queen, to be slightly less than fully satisfying. However, just as I could appreciate Elizabeth for the wonderful performances, I found much to enjoy in Bandit Queen.Bandit Queen tells the true story of Phoolan Devi who, with the help of the media, gained a Robin Hood-esque notoriety in a small province of India in the 1980s. The film begins with Devi being married to a much older man at 11, not for money or for love, but because the man needs laborers at his house. The husband rapes her, the first of a series of rapes in the film. She runs home but, having aged a few years, she runs into trouble with the upper caste, the Thakurs when she turns down the advances of a rich man's son. She's sent away to cousins, where she first encounters a troop of bandits, led be Vikram, who kinda takes a shine to her for her spirit. But again she is sent home (the movie's plot is almost entirely composed of back and forths), only to be again kidnapped, this time by the bandits and this time for bounty. When Vikram kills the head bandit for raping her, Phoolan Devi gains full stature as a member of the Bandits until their Thakur head is released and all heck breaks loose. It's all very upsetting. The second half of the film is a vengeance drama, as Phoolan leads a mini-revolution against the Thakurs until she gains the attention of India's national government and she's arrested. But not before she becomes a hero, setting a completely new standard for female empowerment in the country.Should I be bugged by the genre of supposedly feminist films where the female protagonist goes it on her own, but really needs a man to untap her power? And that once that man untaps the power, he inevitably gets to both benefit from her power and her sexuality? Or should that not bother me? When Vikram and Phoolan raid a transport car, for example, Vikram first tells the passengers that they've been raided by Phoolan Devi's gang. Then he tells them that they've been robbed by the beautiful bandit. First he names her and then he takes away the name to objectify her. Later, when a Thakur boss flirts with her, Vikram tells her to shoot anybody who touches her. Is he telling her to protect herself, or is he protecting his investment? These are just a few of the sexual incongruities of the film. Kapur's need to produce drama and romance undermines the female empowerment at the heart of his tale.And as I've mentioned, Kapur is not a subtle director. This film features a half dozen scenes of marriages. All of the marriages are related in some way to bloodshed. Obvious enough for you? Ditto with the number of baths characters take. Basically whenever a character is about to embark on a new direction in life, they bathe. Almost as if bathing equals rebirth. Could be. I'd compare these images with the haircuts which bookend Elizabeth. Kapur seems desperate to make sure that you get what he's doing, so he takes all of the guesswork out of it.Still, the story is enriched by the triangulation of the story lines. Just as Phoolan Devi will always be an outcast because she's a woman, she will always be an outcast because she's of a lower caste. The minor problem is that she can't get anybody to be outraged with her about the gender thing, but getting people offended by the class disparity is a breeze. There's a proration of disabilities here that is probably very telling. Kapur is also very effective at handling the Bandit Queen as a decidedly rural phenomenon. He does an excellent job of showing how decentralized the Indian government is, both geographically and culturally. While everybody in the small towns views her as an idol, the English speaking government officials are mostly amused both by how long it took them to find out about her and by the level of her popularity.The performances are interesting, as is the technical beauty of the film. However, while we're shown repeated scenes of Devi's torture, we really see very little of the Bandit Queen in action. There's very little that's heroic in Kapur's depiction of her, unless we're just supposed to accept that because she's a woman who kicks a little butt she's worth adulation. I'm not sure that that is enough. Basically, the film validates the notion that she was a media invention. We basically see her get beaten, raped, and abused and then when we see her kill a couple people in rage that's supposed to not only justify but validate her. I'm unconvinced.I'm sure that Bandit Queen serves an important purpose, especially for Western viewers. Additionally, I'm equally certain that many of the stylistic problems I have with Kapur are cultural, the man directing out of the culture from which he comes. Still, this movie doesn't work as well for me as it should. I'd give it a 6/10.

I was somewhat disappointed by this film, even though I can rationally see how well made it is. But somehow, even the often disturbing subject matter didn't effect me like it should have. Basically, I never got infuriated by the sick things that happened in the movie, because there was an emotional charge that seemed to be absent. This is probably why I was only moderately interested in the story throughout, and why I personally cannot recommend the film.