Last Man in Tower review: Manoj, Divya deliver a masterclass in human behaviour

What happens when a builder offers a fortune for your house, and everyone around you agrees to sell, but you are the only one who refuses? In Mumbai, where redevelopment is almost a way of life, that question can turn neighbours into enemies and friends into manipulators. Based on Aravind Adiga’s novel, Last Man in Tower takes this very conflict and turns it into a sharp, unsettling study of ambition, greed, loneliness and the complicated business of letting go.At the centre is Yogesh Mishra, a retired schoolteacher played brilliantly by Manoj Bajpayee, who lives in a house filled with memories of his late wife. While most of his neighbours agree to sell after the builder makes them a lucrative offer, Yogesh refuses, arguing that they have a legal right to say no and should not be manipulated into giving up their homes.What makes the film work is that it never makes Yogesh the obvious hero and everyone else greedy. Everyone has a reason to sell. A mother raising a special-needs child wants a better life, a single mother wants to send her daughter abroad to study, while another man wants to pay off his debt.However, what begins as a debate over property and principles slowly becomes a story about coercion and pressure. An elderly couple have to give in after masked goons attack them, while Yogesh’s lawyer essentially tells him to take the money and move on. In another scene, workers worried about safety concerns change their minds when big money is offered. And perhaps that is the film’s sharpest observation: money doesn’t just buy property in Mumbai; it can buy silence, loyalty and even morality. The society itself becomes one of the film’s most fascinating characters. The redevelopment meetings, evening gossip, alliances and moral policing feel instantly recognisable. A single woman becomes the subject of gossip because different men visit her, while the society secretary even talks about finding used condoms in her trash. Yogesh, with his irritatingly righteous legal jargon, reminds them that privacy is a right and that they have no business peeping into someone else’s life.In another telling exchange, he points out that the society was originally a Christian one where Hindus weren’t allowed to live, and argues that if the city has changed enough for different communities to share the same building, perhaps they should also learn to accept single people. These seemingly small moments give the film a larger social context and make its Mumbai feel lived-in. The emotional battle becomes particularly interesting through Sangeeta Puri, played by a superb Divya Dutta. She has a special-needs son who shares a close bond with Yogesh, making her attempt to convince him to sell all the more uncomfortable. She reminds him that when his wife had cancer, everyone stood by him, and now he should stand by them and their dreams. It is emotional manipulation, but Dutta never turns Sangeeta into a villain. Her pain, anger, envy, maternal desperation and disappointment constantly play across her face, often without her needing to say much.Manoj Bajpayee, meanwhile, is simply a masterclass. Yogesh is an older man, but Bajpayee never merely “plays old”. The slight quiver, slower movements and changed body language around his son feel startlingly real. Anyone with elderly parents will recognise the obstinacy, the unsolicited advice, the “I know better” attitude and, underneath it all, the need to still feel relevant. Bajpayee makes Yogesh move effortlessly from irritation to hurt to defiance to loneliness. His strained relationship with his son adds another layer to his arc. When his son tells Yogesh that his constant advice has never been particularly well received, it’s a painful reminder that being right does not necessarily make you easy to love.Boman Irani is deliciously vicious as the builder. He isn’t a loud, one-dimensional villain; he is calm, persuasive and almost fascinated by this man who cannot be bought. In one beautiful exchange, the builder seems to wonder what Yogesh actually wants if he doesn’t want the money. We never know, and perhaps even Yogesh doesn’t know anymore.That ambiguity is the film’s biggest strength. Once society turns against him, there is no electricity, no water, no support and even human faeces rubbed on his door. He is mentally and physically pushed to the edge, and the film refuses to offer him easy validation. It makes you wonder whether standing by your principles is courage or whether, at some point, it becomes another form of selfishness. Ben Rekhi captures Mumbai with similar restraint. This isn’t the glamorous skyline version of the city, but the ageing buildings, cramped homes, evening conversations, neighbours watching each other, and a society slowly being swallowed by redevelopment. His biggest achievement is that he keeps the conflict intimate even as the stakes keep escalating. What begins as a disagreement between neighbours gradually turns into something darker, without the film ever feeling like it is forcing the audience to pick a side. The building almost becomes a metaphor for the characters themselves: something old that some people want to preserve, while others believe it must be demolished for something better to emerge.At around 97 minutes, the film lands in a sweet spot. It is crisp without feeling rushed and faithful to Adiga’s book without becoming a literal translation of it. The ending is heartbreaking, particularly for those unfamiliar with the book. It leaves you with a more uncomfortable question: at what point does the pursuit of a dream become greed, and at what point does standing by your principles become selfishness?- EndsPublished By: shweta keshriPublished On: Sep 11, 2026 10:55 IST