One of the many things that make director Shoojit Sircar (“…Yahaan,” 2005) one of the best in Indian cinema right now is his ability to convey the tonal arc of his films from the very first second—“Vicky Donor” (2012) and “Madras Cafe” (2013) are two films of his that come to mind which do exactly this, whether through music or visual cues. His latest, “October,” isn’t too far behind.

It opens with an ice-cold, foggy master shot of the tube trudging along, as it were, somewhere in Delhi—a slow start to the day for a slow, bumbling, and perennially angry trainee in the hospitality industry. Danish (Varun Dhawan; “Badlapur,” 2015) is never satisfied, always shirks work, and is a habitually dismissive human. He hates helping others and interacting with his friends and acquaintances, and he doesn’t like where life is leading him.

Now, these are traits that would be perfect for a sullen, stereotypically unlikable character—the kind we’ve seen a ton before. The real challenge lies in bringing to life a passive, moody character whose actions don’t directly influence the narrative, but without whom the film wouldn’t be what it is. Here, Sircar and his longtime writing partner Juhi Chaturvedi give his evolutionary arc subtle touches that shape Dhawan’s protagonist into a wonderfully relatable, multidimensional entity.

Kudos, also, to Chaturvedi for giving aimlessness a whole new facet—most characters who are lost and aimless usually don’t have a career or profession to hold onto, but here’s someone who looks like he’s literally on the (long and winding) road to turning his dreams into reality.

And then there’s debutante Banita Sandhu, who almost seems to blend in with the rest of the people around her—until a tragedy legitimately brings out the best in her as an actor. Emoting solely with your eyes is hard, and how remarkable Sandhu is at it would make you believe she’s been in feature-length movies for more than a decade. There is a quiet confidence about her, and it’s almost dazzling—despite her immobility through two-thirds of the film.

An incredible virtue of movies by the Sircar-Chaturvedi duo is that there are no bad guys in their stories; just your everyday Joes and Janes with varying levels of empathy and emotional intelligence. And while there are many movies where the best characters almost seem impossible to fit within the film’s primary cause-and-effect graph, “October” makes each character a very important part of the process—they end up being fascinating commentaries on how people live each day.

Whether it’s a poetic parable on life, death, and every bittersweet thing in between, an avant-garde take on the coming-of-age story, or a romance that breaks almost every convention in its own genre—by refusing to define or label the emotion in any possible way, a la John Carney’s “Begin Again” or Sircar’s own “Piku,” for that matter—“October” has a little something for everybody to bring back home. Highly recommended.