Some films are simple. It's easy to explain why you loved them, or hated them. Some films are simpler. You don't even have to explain... Everyone loves them. Or hates them. You just ask a friend "Dekhechhish?" And both of you can just start gushing. Hell, with a film like - say - Andhadhun, you can do that with strangers! "Arre boss, kya ending tha woh..."
Some films are difficult. Difficult to explain, not because of a complicated plot. But because people like you and people you know are up there... In their entire messy glory.
They are also difficult to like. How can you like a film in which you're holding your breath because that likeable character is suddenly becoming unlikeable exactly like that friend of yours. Maybe exactly like you.
For films like these, you have to make escape routes. Defence mechanisms. Ha ha, they said fuck 723 times. I loved the journey of the characters, especially how they went from Colaba to Alibaug in a yacht. OMG, the place they called Alibaug is actually in Goa.
Some films end with a satisfying click. Everything is neatly strapped in, the buckles just go into an embrace and you are ready to stow away the bag in a corner of your mind's attic.
But a few films end with the suitcase flying open in the middle of an airport, no, a dirty railway platform. You then remember the click that you heard was in your mind, the emotional baggage of the characters that you thought was finally packed was actually nothing like that. It was not an open suitcase. It was a gaping wound.
Some films, you can't discuss because they're too messy, too deep a wound. You can't discuss, not because you can't find anyone who loved it. But because you're scared how deep the conversation might go.
Sometimes you just lay awake two hours after the movie, wondering... "Boss, kya ending tha woh..."
[Disclaimer: Nobody I know is having an affair. Nobody I know has suicidal tendencies. Nobody I know is involved in shady business practices. Some films just make you feel these very crazy things are happening to you.]