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Nagesh Kukunoor, who is rightfully credited with having breathed fresh life into Hyderabadi cinema once upon a time, is a perplexing filmmaker. His characters seem to have nuances, and his plots loaded with inches of sensitivity, and yet, his movies don't seem to go beyond the "oh look, I'm a poet" kind of wannabe-ness. Exhibitionistic subtlety, if you may call it that.

Is that all that the director is capable of? Hard to say, really. Maybe we'll agree with a philosophy that believes that bizarre silences can be masqueraded as "pregnant" pauses, but masquerading vacuum as art? N....