The latest Nepali film proves that filmmakers still underestimate their audience’s intelligence. And judging from the audience’s reaction in the cinema hall, we’ve had enough.

Ghar is filled with unlikable characters and loud jumpy scares, exaggerating an already gimmicky fright film.

The storytelling is inconsistent and the acting is too subdued or over the top.

In his first film, Anmol Gurung has directed the ubiquitous Dayahang Rai in such a way that he looks and feels like a different character. 

In a region where audiences are prone to emulating on-screen protagonists, films must be careful about the kind of message they’re sending

Director Milan Chams wants to teach comedian Pranesh Gautam a lesson because of a bad review, but if Bir Bikram 2 is anything to go by, it is perhaps Chams who needs a lesson in respecting women.

The basic plot of the film is unoriginal. Nepali filmmakers seem to believe that there is a formula for a romantic film with young people. First, titling your film like it’s a sequel, even though it has nothing to do with the other films in the franchise.

That aside, Saili comes with its own set of expectations. The music video never explained too much, thus engaging our imaginations and involving us emotionally by demanding the audience participate. Adapting a five-minute song into a feature-length film is a hefty task, but we do expect our intelligence and emotions to be as engaged. But alas.

The story is a revenge plot reminiscent of 90s Bollywood. Bunty aka Faisal Mustafa (Jose Manuel) comes to Kathmandu to look for his father but the city is full of crime and the primary reason is politics.

Based on its trailer, I was hoping Captain would be a sports drama, but what I got was honestly something I wasn’t prepared for Captain is an ugly parody of the beautiful genre of sports films.

Binod Paudel, writer-director of the film Bulbul, is the campus chief of Nepal’s first film school, Oscar International College. Most of the films made by the college’s alumni have accrued accolades, not just locally but also globally.

For as long as films have been made, one basic narrative form, also known as the ‘Classical Hollywood Narrative’, has been the norm—there’s a hero, who is male, and he falls in love with a heroine, who is female.

For every film review, my work begins with scribbling notes in dark cinema halls. I sit through the films as alert as I can be, ignoring my fellow filmgoers, their giggles, phone calls and popcorn crunches. But when I’m walking out of the theatre, I’m nervous about having to comment on the same issues, over and over again for every review!

In the digital age, Nepali filmmakers seem to believe they have to cultivate their audience—either by cashing in on the fame of a ‘superstar’, presenting a ‘unique story’, or tapping into contemporary mores.

Superstars are made by the audience. For a film, they are a bankable element that will, regardless of the story or script, guarantee a great audience, in the first three days of the film’s release, at least. In India, audiences are segregated between ‘single screen’ and ‘multiplexes’.