inside man

As the credits roll, there is Sukhwinder and Sapna Aswathi singing Chaiyya Chaiyya. There is Rahman’s music and the one and only Gulzar’s lyrics (uski zubaan urdu ki tarah) so where is Santosh Sivan’s gorgeous cinematography? Oh well, we are in Manhattan. But never mind instead of King Khan and the super-lissom Malaika Arora Khan, we have wonderfully charged Denzel Washington, a smart, sassy, sexy Jodie Foster, an edgy Clive Owen, a stately Christopher Plummer and a competent Willem Dafoe. Instead of terrorist and human bombs we have a heist/hostage scenario.
The film opens with Clive Owen as bank robber, Dalton Russell, asking us to listen well as he chooses his words carefully and never repeats himself. The film starts off with four guys dressed at painters, taking over Manhattan Trust. All hell breaks lose and suddenly there is a hostage situation.
Detective Frazier (Washington) is assigned the case. Captain John Darius (Dafoe) of the Emergency Services Unit is also at hand.
While there are negotiations and pizzas floating by (What is it about Dog Day Afternoon?), the bank chairman and philanthropist Arthur Case (Plummer) contacts Madeline White, a behind-the-scenes powerbroker. There is something in a particular locker that Case does not want to fall into the wrong hands.
Frazier, who is facing an enquiry about a cocaine bust and some missing money, learns soon enough that he is up against a formidable enemy and also that he is being jerked around. The movie is taut and keeps one involved through out its running time. It is also sly and witty and acutely observed. The Sikh, Vikram Walia, who works in the bank makes astute comments about 9/11 paranoia. The film is ekdum paisa vasool. For the tight script, great acting (Foster is sexy and charming not obsessive single mom) and there is Chaiyya Chaiyya as the end credits roll as well!