Court may not provide the conventional satisfactions of a courtroom drama. We don’t get the surprise last-minute witness or flight of brilliant rhetoric from a defence attorney that turns things around. It is humdrum and banal—but that’s the point. Yet it offers many more insights into modern India than, say, Slumdog Millionaire. Like the recent Russian film Leviathan the film depicts injustice but it is a casual offhand, rather than malevolent, sort of injustice. The police are too ready to see the old leftie folk singer as a potentially dangerous rabble-rouser but a more confident prosecutor would refuse to run with the case. The scenes of the prosecutor’s family life establish her limitations. The judge is not corrupt, but he’s not going to rock the boat either. Both are just little cogs in the machinery even if they are climbing up the socio-economic scale. The very long shots in which the camera gazes at some place well before and/or after any significant action occurs contribute to the feeling of a juggernaut that rolls along at its own frustratingly glacial pace. I would be interested in what people made of the curious final sequence at the holiday resort.