Watching Metro… In Dino isn’t just about following interconnected stories on Mumbai’s rain-slicked streets — it’s about feeling them. Anurag Basu’s return to the anthology format (after 2007’s Life in a… Metro) is a delicate, poignant reminder that cinema can still be subtle and soulful in an era dominated by spectacle.
Whispers of Connection in a Noisy World
At its core, Metro… In Dino is about the quiet things — the moments between words, the weight of unsaid emotions, the pauses that often say more than monologues. Basu stitches together multiple storylines with remarkable restraint, allowing characters to breathe and scenes to unfold organically. The result is a film that speaks more through glances and silences than grand revelations.
Each vignette is a slice of urban loneliness, love, or longing. Not all stories hit with equal force, and some characters could have used more flesh, but even in their brevity, they reflect life’s unpredictability and incompleteness. There’s beauty in the messiness.
A Soundtrack That Speaks
Pritam, along with Papon and Raghav Chaitanya, delivers a soundtrack that isn’t just background—it’s narrative. The songs glide in and out of scenes with the ease of rainfall on glass, enhancing moods without overwhelming them. Whether it’s a melancholic interlude or a hopeful refrain, the music becomes the invisible thread tying the stories together.
Rain as Metaphor and Mood
The monsoon isn’t just a setting — it’s a mood board. The rain in Metro… In Dino is never intrusive. It glistens off pavements, clings to windshields, reflects neon lights, and serves as both chaos and catharsis. It’s in the background of every emotional reckoning, quietly underscoring that healing, like rain, arrives when you least expect it.
Cinematographer’s lens captures Mumbai not as a city of dreams, but as a city of quiet confrontations — with oneself, with others, and with the past. There’s a softness in the visuals, a lived-in feel, like re-reading an old diary.
Verdict: A Film That Lingers
Metro… In Dino is not for everyone. If you’re looking for fast-paced thrills, this may not hit the mark. But if you’re someone who values storytelling that simmers slowly, characters that feel real, and visuals that feel like poetry — this film will stay with you.
Yes, some arcs might leave you wanting more. But perhaps that’s intentional. After all, not every encounter has a clean resolution. Sometimes, just crossing paths is enough.
And when the credits roll, you may find yourself staring out at the rain, just a little quieter, a little more thoughtful — and that’s the quiet magic of Anurag Basu’s cinema.
