Dolce and Namak Talk Indian Movies

Adaminte Makan Abu and the Oscars

2012-01-10T20:39:00.000-08:00

I've been having quite a few conversations lately, on and off-line, about how the values in Indian films get perceived by us Westerners, what we notice over what Indian people notice, what gets our blood boiling that they gloss over, what we disagree with, while Indian audiences embrace. And Adaminte Makan Abu, India's entry for the Oscars this year, has provided one of the best examples recently. But I'll get to that discussion later. First allow me to pimp the movie because if you haven't seen it, you're missing out!

Abu (Salim Kumar) is an old sales-man who travels a great deal in order to sell his perfume essences (and holy books) which are quickly going out of style. At home his wife Aisu (Zarina Wahab) adds to their savings by selling milk and fruit to other villagers. They have a simple home with just one room and their biggest dream is to make it to Mecca for Hajj once in their lifetime. You love these two right away not just because they seem like such nice people, but also because you see them looking after one another in a way that doesn't get explored enough in movies with young couples these days. The other day I saw one of those chain quotes on Twitter, and it fits well here: "Love is not Romeo and Juliet dying together, it's grandma and grandpa growing old together". It's cheesy, but at the same time so true. We see that love between Abu and Aisu right from their first scene together in the film and it makes them so endearing to us.

This year it seems as if their dream might come true and Abu decides to put everything he has into arranging the trip. His health is deteriorating and his trade is no longer sought after, so money is not easy to come by. But his faith, hope and everyone's blessings push him forward towards his goal.

Supported by the gorgeous cinematography which subjugates your attention from the first frame and doesn't let your eyes stray even for a precious second, the story of Abu talks about forgiveness, being kind, and living a righteous life regardless of rewards and setbacks. It's a wonderful little message and its delivery is, like Abu, slow and gentle. The smaller or bigger gestures of the villagers when Abu finds himself in financial trouble are a true, and thankfully not preachy, ode to the virtues of leading an honest, selfless life. Truly a heart-warming lesson in humanity brought to us in sweet metaphors and delightful little symbols.

For an even more detailed review of the film (though I'm warning you, plenty spoilery), I recommend heading over to Totally Filmi because from here on I am done with pimping and will proceed to sharing with you my thoughts on how this film would fare at the Oscars if it makes it.

Two things got a great deal of thought from me after watching this movie, and I expect both would play a heavy part in how Adaminte Makan Abu would be viewed by people here as opposed to people in India.

First of all, and this may have something to do with me having been raised by an energetic mother who changed her profession twice to stay afloat (the second time in her 50s), I personally find myself unable to sympathize with people's incapacity to adapt. Abu is so lovable that I can't help but feel for him, but at the same time I also can't help but judge and think where he would have been if he had tried to change his trade. The only reason why he is in his current situation is because he hasn't managed to keep up with the times. This is all he knows and this is all he can do with himself.

Once again, as in quite a few other Indian films, though this time in a very subtle way, progress and the business world are presented as the root of all evil, or at the very least, the antithesis of a righteous life. This is further illustrated by the character and side story of the real estate agent. Granted, he was also greedy, but forgive me if I am starting to really resent this constant association of greed and progress as if they were the same thing. Abu is meant to charm with his simplicity and his selflessness, but for a society that rates ambition among a man's highest qualities, this may not necessarily impress.

Seeing this movie from the comfort of my couch in Toronto I have to wonder how it would appear to other Westerners who, like me, consider progress through technology a desirable goal to strive towards rather than a destructive force (as much as environmentalists would disagree with that). Also how many of us Westerners would see Abu and his antiquated lifestyle as nothing more than a perfect example of the dead weight that is keeping India from soaring economically?

It may sound condescending and as if I am applying my Western values without any regard to the culture that this film came from, but consider this: if this mentality was so foreign to India, why would a character who used to have a cookie vending stall and now has 8 bakeries in the city be mentioned? And this time it's without any malice, he's mentioned with admiration and perhaps a teeny bit of envy.

"His car sometimes hastens this way splashing muck"

Moreover, the contrast between him and the two old men who never knew how to grow (the perfume vendor and the umbrella maker), is made even more poignant by the fact that they seem to be painfully aware of the fact that everyone started off with the same skills and opportunities.

"Making money is indeed a talent my friend"

Would Abu be as endearing in his helplessness to an audience full of people who change their job every 5-6 years? From this society where everyone expects to change their line of work completely at least twice in their lifetime, would we feel bad for Abu's perfumes that don't get sold?

The other aspect that didn't quite settle with me in the film is Abu's stubbornness to keep everything in line with the letter of the Koran: if the book says you can't accept money from people unless they are blood relatives, then he won't. If the book says he is to seek forgiveness even when he has done no wrong, he will. As an aside, interesting to note that he has no moral issues with giving a bribe. Probably because The Book doesn't have an opinion on it?

Is leaving everything in the hands of God something that we would be ok with? Is being the type of person who accepts everything as God's decision a palatable idea? Is God the only force to be trusted to show us the way?

"Allah will surely show us one among them [a way to raise the money]"

See, if this movie were about an American, Abu would be instantly labeled as a bigot. And hated on more than likely. Also, the persistence to not accept help would probably be named pride rather than humbleness. But this is not an American movie, so we learn to respect Abu for his resolve. Or... at least we're expected to.

What I'm really getting at here, and this may sound like I am criticizing the movie (when in fact I absolutely loved it), is that seen through the prism of Western values, this would be a completely different movie. And not necessarily a charming one, as it is meant to be. If it is to make it to the Oscars, this is where there's a chance it will not connect with people.

Then again, we have learned to respect different cultures and their unique components, so just because the film made me think of these issues, it's not a given it will stop anyone from loving it just like it didn't stop me. And maybe there is always a need for us to be reminded that the possessions we count on the most in life can sometimes turn out to be hollow on the inside.

Because in the end, and this is the true testament to Salim Kumar's talent and to the director's finesse, they make me root for Abu and Aisu nonetheless. And I do sympathize with Abu's helplessness despite judging it (perhaps harshly, perhaps not). And I am moved by the tenderness of his relationship with his wife. And I will recommend this film to everyone within earshot. But that said, I am very curious about how the Oscar crowd would perceive it. Very curious...

Adaminte Makan Abu (2011)
Director: Salim Ahamed
Starring: Salim Kumar, Zarina Wahab
Music: Ramesh Narayan
Cinematography: Madhu Ambat

And Where Was the Masala in 2011??

2011-12-24T17:00:00.000-08:00

As I got to the end of my Top 5 in 2011 list I realized that all my favourite movies of this year have been un-Bollywood in one way or another, which of course begged the question: was there no good masala fare for me this year? Why yes, yes there was! In fact, in the special category that I like to call "glittery fluff-ball", there were two movies that went neck to neck all the way to the finish line: Mere Brother Ki Dulhan and Ladies Vs Ricky Bahl, both Yash Raj offerings.

We're talking the traditional Bollywood with song and dance, outrageous plot holes, no brains required, glitter and colour, weddings and glam, sexy locales and gorgeous people. And I do love me some of this Bollywood just as much as I love the off-beat kinds. But I can only have one perfect ball of fluff a year, so let me take you through the excruciating process that led to my final decision.

They're both very good looking movies, for sure, so points all around for that. I love the MBKD soundtrack more, but LVRB stands tall with a couple of earworms too (or so my iPod says). I love the actors in both movies, even though if you twist my arm I will trade both Ali Zafar and Imran Khan for Ranveer Singh's smile. So we're 2 - 2 now, I guess.

The ladies are all on par too: Katrina Kaif with a very endearing performance and a hot body like no one else around, Anushka Sharma spreading joy effortlessly and never failing on the dramatic side either. But then... LVRB has three other ladies who rock the screen, and in fact the story belongs to them more than it belongs to the main couple: Parineeti Chopra, Dipannita Sharma and Aditi Sharma. Not only are they fun to watch, but they each bring a different flavour to the mix, just like proper masala spice should. So I guess LVRB is now ahead for character development.

But it doesn't stay in the lead for too long because MBKD makes up for that by giving us the most lovable couple in recent memory, one that will stop at nothing in order to make it to the wedding canopy together.

Sigh... We're even again. What else? Dancing is always important for me, but sadly one of the films (MBKD) has mostly poor dancers, so while the choreographies are fun, they're not terribly impressive; while the other movie flattens two of the best dancers in Bollywood by giving them boring steps. So I guess that means MBKD takes a point for effort on this one.

Having said that, LVRB wins that point right back for Fatal Attraction because Oooo eMMM Geee, it's a trance song!! In Bollywood!!! And it's the background for a party in Goa!!!! And everything about this picturization is mindblowingly awesome. A song made for Dolce and Namak if there ever was one.

Ahem... Sorry about that little outburst, but this song honestly blew me away in the movie. It was by far my favourite 5 minutes of the film. I know Madhubala is awesome too, but it's nothing I've never seen before in Bollywood whereas Fatal Attraction is. In fact it's so un-Bollywood that I was convinced it was ripped off from somewhere, that's how odd it is to me. If it IS plagiarized it's from something so obscure I would have heard it once at some party, but despite searching high and low I could not find anything to back up this hunch. So no accusations will be made and LVRB gets the full point for it.

This process went on and on, getting as detailed as pitting Ranveer's stupendous facial expressions in the scene where Ishika signs the contract (my favourite bit of acting from him) against Imran's puppy eyes every time he tells Dimple to trust him to work things out. The nickname Dimpy in LVRB got a point as well, offset by Katrina's "correctly beautiful and appropriately sexy" description of herself in MBKD. It goes on and on, we're talking days of debate here!

So in the end it came down to this crucial question: which movie would I watch over and over and not get bored? And on this... Mere Brother Ki Dulhan just wins. I thought LVRB would have a good rewatch value, but seeing it the second time in the theatre I was already bored and checking the score of the Blackhawks' hockey game on BBM, so I guess it didn't pass that test. And since the glittery fluff-ball is more about being entertained than it is about smart filmmaking choices... it goes to Mere Brother Ki Dulhan after all.

And with this we end a week of fiery debates for me, and a year of awesome Bollywood movies for you.

Looking forward to 2012 and here's hoping it tops the most excellent 2011!

2011 Was a Damn Good Year!

2011-12-24T16:42:00.000-08:00

I don't usually do the end of year lists (not because I have anything against them, but mostly because if I like something I will blog about it right there and then), but this year seemed to deserve a special pat on the back for giving us so much good stuff. So even if I have talked at length about most of these movies, this is the end of year wrap-up and my top 5 (or 6?) most awesome movies of the year.

Dhobi Ghat

This is technically a 2010 movie for me since that's when I saw it, so I debated whether to include it or not, but heck, it's always a good idea to give it another shout-out. It didn't do too well at the box office, and there are a couple of things that upon rewatch bothered me about it (the main one being Monica Dogra's acting skills or lack thereof), but I still consider Dhobi Ghat one of the most touching Indian films I've ever seen (yes, emotion works best for me when it's subtle and tender). Maybe because I was following it so closely pre-release, or maybe because I saw Kiran Rao on stage at TIFF talking about it, but this is one of those rare films where I can feel the love of the director for everything to do with filmmaking in every frame. It's a movie I would not hesitate to recommend to anyone who wants to give Bollywood a shot, because yes, I do consider it Bollywood (the new Bollywood that I am loving more and more) even if right now it seems like it's ahead of its time.

7 Khoon Maaf

Vishal Bhardwaj's sometimes humorous, sometimes unbearably dark drama about a woman and her 7 husbands who all end up dead. Another movie that didn't do very well with the audiences, and in a way it's easy to see why. Not only does it have a woman as the central character, but it's a very complex, wicked and confounding woman who makes it very hard to read her fragile heart through the layers of the film. Give it to Bhardwaj to attempt something as bold as this film and to almost get away with it. Priyanka Chopra's performance was the highlight of the year for me and that alone makes the movie worth while. But when we add to that the fabulous soundtrack, the Vishal trademarked camera-work and the story itself with its million interpretations, it's more than enough to shoot a movie to the very top of my favourites. Frankly I did not think another one would surpass it this year. And only one did, but more on that later since this list is in chronological order.

Shor in the City

This was one of the surprises of the year for me because while I was expecting it to be fun (based on how much I loved "99" from the same director duo), I didn't expect it to be so good. It's sometimes tongue-in-cheek and other times dead serious (emphasis on dead), and sometimes you're not even sure which one it is, but it's a damn good watch, that's for certain. Setting up a business in Mumbai, working the traffic lights and a peek into the lives of small time crooks, innocence lost and found again, all these themes get explored through the 3 story-lines of the movie and most come to a very satisfying end, even if not all believable. This is a movie I can't recommend enough.

Saheb Biwi aur Gangster and Delhi Belly

I cannot for the life of me decide between these two. I went to see Delhi Belly in the theatres 3 times and laughed my head off every single tine, while I only watched SBAG once but that was enough to know I was in love with it. What makes it even harder to choose is that SBAG is not a comedy by any stretch of the imagination, while Delhi Belly will only work if you find it funny, otherwise it will bomb. Delhi Belly is not very heavy on story-line, and yet somehow it kept me engaged every time. SBAG on the other hand has quite the plot and quite the surprising finale, so if story is what you're after, this is definitely the one to see. Delhi Belly then wins on the soundtrack side while SBAG wins on the visuals side.

Tell me this image alone doesn't steal your heart!

Both films have excellent performances and both have strong characters that make an impact. So you see... I can't choose. I'll have to leave this one to you.

Rockstar

I'm sure by now everyone knows this was THE movie of the year for me, so I'll keep it nice and short. Not many movies (and only a handful of Bollywood ones) grab me emotionally. I care for the characters, sure, sometimes they piss me off, sometimes I feel bad for them, but I'm never living every second of the film with them. So when a movie manages to remove me from reality and soak me into the story to the point where I forget myself completely, it's shocking. And wonderful at the same time. Rockstar did exactly that to me. Not once, not twice, but all three times when I watched it in the theatres. There is something so powerful about Imtiaz Ali's storytelling mixed with AR Rahman's music, that I simply lose myself in it every time.

I loved this movie so much that every person who did not feel the way I did about it made me sad. Not for the movie (which did well enough) but sad for them, because I felt like they were missing out on something powerful, magical and out-of-this-world special. But... then again, maybe other movies give them the same feeling, maybe movies that will never even gain my benevolence let alone my love, so I can't weep for them for too long.

Now let me tell you this was not an easy list to make. I left out the gorgeous Zindagi Na Milego Dobara, the hilarious Bbudda Hoga Tera Baap, the tragic Bol (this one would have been in my top 5 but it's not technically Bollywood, so it got disqualified), the adorable FALTU, and the quirky Dil Toh Baccha Hai Ji, all movies that I really enjoyed this year. And I also left out the two glittery fluff-balls of the year, but that's because they're coming in a separate post.

So all in all... damn, it's been a great year for the Bollywood lover!

"Are you saying Bollywood makes GOOD movies too??"

2011-12-08T15:10:00.000-08:00

As usual it started with me getting all worked up about someone making a passing comment at the table that Bollywood actors suck... And also as usual, this was coming from a person who has seen a total of... half a Bollywood movie. After trying really hard to not start a lecture about ignorance and speaking without knowing what the hell you're talking about, I eventually landed myself in a discussion on the way home about why it is that Bollywood keeps being judged without being given a right to defend itself. The debate started with "Well, even if they DO make good movies, Bollywood is not exactly doing anything to dispel this bad opinion (as gratuitous as it may be) that people have of it.". While trying to objectively get to the "why" of that, we touched on a few interesting points.

1) People are far more aware of bad Bollywood movies than they are of good ones.

Why is that? Well, for one because word of mouth seems to work really well with trash: "Hey, I saw this unbelievably bad youtube video with this jeep crashing into a helicopter, it was Bollywood (no, it wasn't, but let's not even go there), here, you watch it too!". Or "Dude, I read that the most expensive Bollywood movie ever made is with this guy who turns into a robot and then turns into a CGI snake. We should get high and watch it, it's gonna be so trippy." Or "OMG check this out: this guy is rapping in English but it's not English and it's really really bad, it got like a million hits. Watch it, it's Hi-larious!". I could go on but you get the idea.

So naturally, when that's the kind of stuff that goes viral, it's hard to blame people for assuming the worst.

But that said, you really can't control what goes viral and what doesn't. So then where is the part that you do control? Well, sadly, it doesn't get much better there either. Distribution. Which brings us to...

2) Banking on only the big heroes is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

What movies get good distribution overseas? The ones that are guaranteed to bring in the moolah from existing audiences, of course. So regardless of the quality or subject matter of the movie, if it stars SRK, Akshay Kumar or Salman Khan, it'll be in every theatre known to Indians. Now here's the problem with that: none of these heroes make movies that are going to change someone's opinion about Bollywood. They think the acting is crap... well, I doubt Akshay will change their mind on that. They think Bollywood movies are full of nonsense and ridiculous shit. Uh... yeah... I love Dabangg but it IS full of nonsense and ridiculous shit. They think Bollywood movies are there just to justify the song and dance routine and some silly love-story. Hm... something like Ra.One won't exactly make a case for plot over shiny dance sequences with the heroine looking hot, wind blowing in her hair. And at least if the dancing were still top notch, then maybe, just maybe the audience of such films as "Step Up" and "Save the Last Dance" would be tempted to go for it. Sadly, apart from booty-shaking, there's not a whole lot of good dancing coming out of the big productions in Bollywood these days (not you, Munni, you still rock!).

But I digress. To further complicate matters, these are exactly the type of movies that, because they are built around star-power, come in assuming a body of knowledge that the North American audience doesn't have. It's fun when you're in the know to get all the inside jokes and all the references to other Bollywood movies or other heroes, but it's no fun to sit there hearing the rest of the audience roar with laughter and have absolutely no clue what just made that scene so funny. So the movies that get the widest distribution are also the ones guaranteed to alienate any potential non-desi movie-goers.

You see how this argument will now start going in circles: good distribution is assured for actors who already appeal to the desi masses because that's who's going to bring in the money. These actors will be watched and enjoyed by the same people every time, which ensures that the next release will also come to town. And so the world turns. And the people who are NOT already on the SRK batmobile or the Salman Khan bandwagon? Oh those guys... well, they can go watch Harry Potter.

This part of the problem also gets mirrored on the media side of things. What does the radio cover? What movies will get an article in The Star? Whose arrival did you see on TV during IIFA? Guess! Why? Because that's what sells the paper, that's who people want to hear about, that's who they already know and love. How do you break this vicious cycle when none of these mass media outlets have any interest in reaching that part of the audience that *doesn't* already know about Bollywood? God only knows...

3) On the other side of the distribution coin, movies that could appeal to non-desis never even get marketed to them.

I remember being completely dumbfounded that Shor in the City didn't screen anywhere in Toronto. Here was an opportunity to introduce a movie with an actor that North American non-desi audiences were already familiar with (Sendhil Ramamurthy), banking on the success of the TV series Heroes, and thus potentially gaining yourself a new audience. My friends had no way of knowing if the movie was any good (and nor did I), but they would have gone to see it just for Dr. Suresh. How crazy would it have been if that movie ended up changing people's minds about Bollywood (because it actually is pretty damn good)? We'll never know...

Or take another little piece of good cinema, Dhobi Ghat. Would people who watch foreign movies from Europe be interested in seeing this and loving it? Most likely. And yet its entire marketing campaign was aimed at convincing existing Aamir Khan fans that this is not your typical Aamir movie. (Which by the way led nowhere because those Aamir fans still went in expecting another 3 Idiots and they still bitched about the movie being crap, so a wasted effort if you ask me). Not only that, but despite the very cool website and the dozen of "making of" featurettes, the film only had one trailer, and that trailer didn't really say anything about the plot (not saying it's easy to make a trailer about this movie without giving away the plot, but if I hadn't already been interested in the director, that trailer wouldn't have convinced me to see it). So with this in mind, what potential did Dhobi Ghat have to attract that audience that would have given it its due? Almost none. It was people like me who already love Bollywood that went, loved, wrote and... that's it.

Not really Bollywood, but I can think of a few people who would have really appreciated the Pakistani movie Bol... if only they had known about it. But even I discovered it by fluke during the one week when it played in the city. This type of film would have made the film fest circuit, I think... but it never seemed to even try even though it came out right around TIFF. I know I would have gone to it at TIFF instead of Chatrak.

And fine, forget these off-beat movies, they probably don't get much of an audience even in their home country, it's unfair to ask their producers to spend more on marketing when they're likely to not recover their money even at home (though that argument lacks vision completely, but whatever, let's accept it for argument's sake). Then what about some true blue Bollywood like Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara or even The Dirty Picture? Not technically your typical Bollywood blockbuster (although these days it's very hard to say what IS your typical Bolly blockbuster), but in my opinion a good enough combo of Bollywood pizzazz and a good story line. Not too much thinking required, mostly full-on entertainment with a few misty-eyed moments here and there. Certainly neither of them a perfect movie, but enjoyable enough for an evening out. Did either of them get promoted outside the desi-verse? If they did, I never saw it.

Let's go even further with this: do we really think that those legions of teenagers who flock to the theatres to sigh and swoon their way through Edward and Bella's love story would not be interested in watching something fun like Mere Brother Ki Dulhan? Is there any valid reason why they would not also fall in love with a Bittoo in Band Baaja Baarat? Because other than the fact that they're required to read subtitles, I really can't think of a reason why they wouldn't be a perfect audience for this type of movie coming out of Bollywood. Why, then, is this audience not targeted when clearly they love the genre?

Now I'm not saying I know how to really reach these audiences with a marketing campaign, because if I did, I'd move to India tomorrow and hit up Aamir Khan Productions for a job. But what I do know is that I saw posters for Cooking with Stella all over downtown Toronto when that movie came out. I know that Videsh (Heaven on Earth) was shown in theatres that had never seen a Bollywood movie before. And I know that Breakaway was allegedly the most watched Canadian English-language movie of the year. Now they could all have something to do with the fact that some of the big names involved in the production are Canadian citizens. Still... maybe worth studying what it is that they are doing right.

Though I will say, one thing that would really help and it's beyond me why it's not happening, is instead of making movies in English, how about putting some subtitles on those youtube trailers? And hey, while we're at it, if you're releasing the songs as a promo, stick some subs on those as well! It's nice that you want people to appreciate the music and the visuals for themselves, but you know what, a lot of times the beauty of a song lies precisely in the way the lyrics match the music and the moment, and if you don't understand the lyrics, that moment is likely to pass you by. Not to mention that a trailer with subtitles is more likely to be disseminated on Facebook, Twitter and all those magical places where friends of friends would now have a chance to actually understand what you're so excited about as opposed to feeling like an idiot for having to ask so many questions about what you just posted. The internet is the strongest marketing tool right now. USE IT! But I am wasting my breath, I know...

This screencap stolen from cinemagupshup.com

Without getting into Bollywood's Hollywood complex which I find ridiculous anyway, I really wish Bollywood producers would explore the concept that maybe they don't need to change Bollywood to make it more marketable, it might be enough to just... market it properly!

Last but not least, and this is the one point where the biggest changes can be made...

4) Bollywood is such a self-centered industry.

Why not come out of its comfort zone and do some cross-pollination? I'm not just talking about Anil Kapoor being in the last Mission Impossible movie, or Aishwarya Rai being in the Pink Panther, or bringing in the awesome Poorna Jagannathan for Delhi Belly, although that's not a bad start. I'm talking about doing some joint projects, getting some experience elsewhere, bringing in some talent from abroad, just engaging with others. How many Hollywood actors have been in European movies? All the good ones. How many Hollywood directors watch Asian and European movies on a regular basis. Judging by what they list as their favourite movies, I'd say a lot. How much traffic is there back and forth for production staff across the continents? Enough. Sure it took decades to get to that kind of interaction, but Bollywood needs to come out and play already. Building itself a little fort of self-righteousness from which it scoffs at the other film industries while secretly wanting to be them will never be the way to go. National pride is nice and all but when Zoya Akhtar and Kiran Rao are the only two directors (that I can think of) who list non-Indian movies as their all time favourites on a regular basis, you know there's something rotten in the state of Denmark.

If people here were exposed to some Bollywood actors, cinematographers, plot-lines through this cross-pollination, their tolerance and curiosity for the real deal would probably increase substantially. And then it might go beyond Slumdog Millionaire and "that guy who won the Oscar for the soundtrack". Then you'd hear things like "Let's go see this Bollywood movie, it's with that girl from [insert title]. I love her!" and "Check it out, remember that awesome choreography from [insert title]? The same guy did the choreos in this movie". Or better yet "Wow, I LOVE this song. Here it is with subs. Hey wanna go see the movie it's from?". Sigh... Instead, actors from Bollywood would never be caught dead saying they'd like to be part of a foreign movie, the Indian actors who ARE part of international productions, such as Freida Pinto, are scoffed at, and whenever choreographers, singers and actors from North America do get involved in Bollywood projects, the enthusiasm is always one-sided and it's not on this side of the Pacific.

Until one or several of the above elements changes drastically, I will keep having to fight with friends to prove that Bollywood does *gasp* make good movies, while Indian films will continue to be this alien entity that holds nothing familiar and hence nothing of interest.

To end on an anecdotal note, I'll leave you with the best example that was given me last night during this discussion. Bollywood is like the Blackberry Playbook. It can do all these totally neat things, it's powerful, it's capable, it's reliable. But when it came out, it lost a lot of ground because of unfavourable comparisons to the iPad. Did anyone bother to look at what makes the Playbook different? Nope. All everyone wanted to see was how it fares next to the iPad in all the features that could be compared. And what about the areas that the iPad never even touched? Well, those don't matter and Blackberry certainly never bothered to highlight them. So in its own world, the Playbook is this awesome little product that will never get its due because its marketing campaign let it down. I don't have an iPad so I won't start comparing which one is better (and I don't really care, so please feel free to NOT start a debate over this), but the point is, just like with Bollywood, most people won't even give the Playbook a chance because it allowed itself to be positioned as Number 2 from the get-go. Why would I get the Number 2 product when Number 1 is readily available?

Ah... but what if Number 2 was not a number at all? What if it was just... say... the letter A?

Ooh La La Ooh La... Blah?

2011-12-04T18:09:00.000-08:00

According to imdb, I have to date seen 3 Milan Luthria films. Ok, 4 actually, but I really would rather forget I ever wasted 2 hours of my life to watch Hattrick. So those 3 are: Taxi 9 2 11, Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai and The Dirty Picture. And at the end of all three I felt like saying Romeo's line: "Oh wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied??". Luthria is a charming storyteller, but it's a crying shame that he can't make up his mind about what he wants to say with his films. Every time I see one I am left with the lingering question: Why did he make this movie? It's a good movie, sure, but... why?

After finishing Taxi 9 2 11 yesterday I commented that it's like a parable, it exists in a surreal world where the characters just... are, without having to justify why they are. You are told about them, and you just accept that they have their own internal logic and their own compulsions that well... you may not necessarily understand. But all will be explained when you get to the moral of the story (which is why I quite liked the ending, surreal as it may be).

Thinking of these other two movies (OUATIM and TDP), I think they also work well as parables. They talk of rises and falls, of right and wrong, of success and failure, and admittedly, they do so in a rather intelligent way. They're like a smart retelling of those children-stories you used to read years ago, with witty princes and fearsome ogres whose existence or raison d'etre you never questioned. You just went with it because that's what the story told you to. But unlike in fairy-tales, with Luthria there is no moral to the story in the end. There is no good to triumph over evil, there is no ogre to be slaughtered, there is no princess whose hand can be won. It's the same style of storytelling that parables use, but just when you get to the end and you're waiting for the punchline, for those last 2 lines that give you the life lesson to be learned, you get cut off.

The Dirty Picture is, admittedly or not, a biopic of the life and times of the South Indian sex-symbol of the 80s, Silk Smitha. Without knowing too much about her life, or having seen any of her films, I can still completely understand why she was a controversial actress. The Dirty Picture does well with showcasing that, and just in case you're slower on the uptake, they even put it into words for you, one of Naseeruddin Shah's best lines in the film: "You're our late night fantasy... that no one wants to talk about in the morning." This goddess of sex that everyone wants a piece of cannot be accepted as part of a society who thinks of itself as virtuous and wholesome.

But after having made this point, The Dirty Picture somehow chickens out when the time comes to hit you with the punchline. If the movie was to be a slap in the face of a public who cannot resolve the cognitive dissonance created by what it really wants and what is proper, then Silk should have triumphed in the end. If on the other hand it wanted to be a commentary on the genesis of a star and its inevitable downfall, then Silk didn't need to be Silk, it could have been any other star, the controversy didn't add anything to the story. As it stands, with its two feet in two different boats, The Dirty Picture leaves you with the truly dirty feeling that, when it's all said and done, this society which gets criticized in the beginning for not owning up to their lechery, is the one and only winner in this film. And as I was saying earlier, that makes me wonder: why tell this story to begin with?

Sure Vidya Balan is absolutely fabulous and truly the queen of our fantasies, whether those fantasies revolve around her generous cleavage or around the belief that a woman can be considered a sex-symbol even without spending grueling hours in the gym every week (I suspect a lot of women watching this will come out with this particular fantasy, as did I). And yes, Nasseruddin Shah is an absolute delight to watch as he lusts, smoulders, boils over and drools over... well, himself really (as much as Silk would like to think it's over her).

It also goes without saying that Ooh La La is a true feast for the eyes on the big screen, even though quite honestly the best version of the song is Tusshar's rendition of it in his bedroom. And I quite enjoy Emraan Hashmi when he's being emo and brooding, even if I will never understand why he just has to sing to at least one song in all of his films whether the film warrants it or not (and whether it's a pretty song or not).

And there's no denying that it's a very well made movie. But while leaving the theatre one can't help but think that despite the clever one-liners and the million bite-size life teachings that make up its script (sometimes in very entertaining ways), the Dirty Picture was robbed of its punchline. And if there IS a moral to the story, it's sadly the same old and boring one: that no matter how high we rise, our existence is meaningless if we don't have the only thing that matters: love.

You know, sometimes I think Bollywood is still terribly nostalgic of itself. In the past month I have seen 2 movies (Rockstar and The Dirty Picture) with a very similar trajectory: the rise and fall of a star who turns out to be nothing without love. I said that The Dirty Picture was a parable without a moral. But if Bollywood itself were to be seen as a story, its moral would be this line from an old song: Ishq bina kya jeena, yaara? (What's the point in living if there is no love?).

Which I find somewhat amusing given that Bollywood has been fighting against its old school love stories for almost a decade now. From making movies like I Hate Luv Storys, to reciting and mocking old love story dialogues in pretty much every other movie, to making a Rockstar and a Dirty Picture, it's like Bollywood can't make up its mind between embracing its love for love or letting go of it. Now don't get me wrong, I adore Rockstar with the burning power of a thousand suns, but sometimes I do think Bollywood is like a teenager, who can see nothing beyond that world of love that it has created for himself/herself. And just like human beings do, I wonder if Bollywood will ever grow up from its teens and realize that there are so many other things worth talking about in life other than love? It's not that I don't think it can move mountains, or that it's the most delightful anchor in one's existence, but let's admit it once and for all that it's not the be all and end all of life. And then move on.

Oh well... The Dirty Picture is still very much worth a watch for Vidya's excellent performance (or for her cleavage, depending on your tastes, of course).

The Dirty Picture (2011)
Director: Milan Luthria
Starring: Vidya Balan, Nasseeruddin Shah, Emraan Hashmi, Tusshar Kapoor
Music: Vishal- Shekhar
Choreography: Pony Prakashraj

Of Men and Man-Children

2011-11-22T20:00:00.000-08:00

We've talked about action heroes recently around here, so as the natural progression (or regression?) dictates, the time has come to talk about lovers. Ok, so it's really not the progression, it's more the fact that I've been thinking about this post for over a year now, and well, it's high time. And reading the beginning of this excellent post about the evolution of love stories over the decades reminded me of it.

Rockstar - my favourite love story lately

It's hard to ignore the fact that for the past 10 years of Indian cinema a new prototype of hero/lover has evolved, and it's more or less adequately summarized in one word: the man-child, defined as an immature grown man who still has no direction in life, nor much emotional maturity. Without getting into how generation Y is probably the biological father of this character, while globalization is its mother, we'll have to accept the fact that for the past decade it's been the back-bone of most love stories. And some non-love-stories too!

Wake Up Sid! - the title says it all

Gone are the days when fate or a fortuitous chain of events would finally unite the lovers who had agreed to call it quits for the sake of their families. Gone are the days when the crushed lover was willing to let the girl he loved walk away with the other man, and if we still see that man, he is no longer the hero, he has become the other man, pushed somewhere in the background while the main couple holds the sympathy of the audience firmly away from him. Sure we get all kinds of excuses for it: he was abusive (City of God), he was cheating (Kismat Konnection), he was too boring (I Hate Luv Storys), he was not really in love with her (Mere Brother Ki Dulhan), and sometimes no excuse is even needed (Rockstar), but the general rule is that it's the hero's right to get the girl. He certainly seems to think so. And it's this sense of entitlement that is, I feel, the first and most important trait of the man-child.

Sure, there's something to be said for his immaturity, as well as for his self-centered-ness, or for his fear of commitment. These are admittedly all important for his characterization, but unlike the sense of entitlement, they're nothing new. And this is also something that puzzles me personally, because there are few things I hate more in this world than entitlement. And yet... and yet, I am always on the side of the man-child, no matter how spoiled and obnoxious he is.

Dil Chahta Hai - the movie that started it all!

Thinking back about the lover prototype of the 90s/early 2000, one thing seemed to consistently annoy me in all the movies that I couldn't avoid from that decade (though for the most part I did well with avoiding them): the hero's helplessness. Devdas and his eternal self-pity, Raj willing to give up his Simran because the parents said so, Sameer's departure for similar reasons, even Ram giving up Sita for the sake of his people and his honour. All examples of the kind of man I would despise. What use do I have, as a woman, for a man who will not fight for me? How is this coward the ideal husband? Maybe that's why despite their extreme OTT-ness, I found Aamir Khan's old movies more palatable: he never did play the hero that just gives up. For all the ridiculousness of the chair-marriage in Dil, the man at least had the balls to stick to his guns. Don't get me wrong, I avoid those as well (sorry Aamirou), but when I do watch them, I appreciate that at least I don't have to yell at my TV screen: GROW A BACKBONE ALREADY!!

Devdas - It doesn't get much more pathetic than this

I don't know if it's my generation, my upbringing, my star sign or something altogether different, but giving up is not something I would ever have sympathy for. And my real life aversion for weak people seems to translate to my filmi preferences as well. So for all his alleged cuteness (I suppose that's a matter of taste with actors like SRK and Salman), I cannot cheer for a hero who puts his hands up and goes to mope in a corner. Unless of course, she's the one pushing him away, in which case insisting would turn into stalking and we all know how much I hate that.

So I guess when I think about it this way, I'm not really admiring the new hero's sense of entitlement, but rather his willingness to stay and fight once he finds the one thing he cares about. Whether it's through ridiculous and completely implausible plot twists, a la Break Ke Baad, or through hilariously complicated plans a la Mere Brother Ki Dulhan, or with the wild determination of a jungle predator a la Ghajini, or just by speaking up a la Dil Chahta Hai, I find myself always attracted to this hero who doesn't know what quitting means. Obviously all this goes for the heroine too, though sometimes I can understand her weakness where I would have zero tolerance for his. Still, it's much nicer if she is as determined as him.

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan - a most tenacious pair!

On the other side of the coin, it occurs to me that this is most likely why I hated Mausam. But let's not digress.

Yes, he's a man-child, and yes, he needs to do some growing up, and yes, he will probably do at least 2 or 3 offensive things in the course of the movie, but when it's all said and done I am guaranteed to not see him feeling sorry for himself until the girl decides to call it off. And even then, in most cases, that's the catalyst for his growth (whether it's growing up, growing stronger, or growing famous), so you never get that sense of self-inflicted helplessness from him.

I don't mind spoiled brats. Of course, we'd never work out in real life, but they do rather amuse me on screen. I do however get an irresistible urge to slap them when they turn out to be quitters too, on top of being brats. And this seems to be the difference between me hating Devdas and loving Dev D. Between unabashedly despising Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and embracing Jab We Met. Between thinking Dil To Pagal Hai's ending is a lame cop-out and finding the ending of Dil Chahta Hai exhilarating. And let's not even try to pit Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge versus Rockstar. Talk about going for it!

Jab We Met - selflessness done right

Now don't get me wrong, before the desis start explaining to me the importance of family, honour and "doing the right thing", let me preemptively state that I am vigorously of the opinion that no one who loves you should ever stand in the way of your happiness. Also, in terms of parenting, I firmly believe that the young ones should be allowed to make their own mistakes, though feel free to practice your "I told you so" diction in the mirror all you want in anticipation of their failure. So with that in mind, I guess it boils down to: why care about the family honour when the family couldn't care less about your happiness? And if others do and can relate to these heroes, so be it. I just don't think I will ever be persuaded to.

If I absolutely have to have a Raj, I'll take Saawariya's Raj, despite all the film's faults, because at the end of it all, he's still boxing with unhappiness.

Saawariya - so many things wrong with this one, but what a memorable Raj!

If I have to talk about a noble soul who gives up the woman he loves, I'll talk about Jab We Met's Aditya Kashyap who goes on to make something of his life as a result of his heart-break. If I am to love a quitter, I will choose Lakshya's Karan who, despite his completely unrealistic trajectory, makes a strong case for learning from one's failures. And if I am to cheer for a man who chooses the honour of his family over the happiness of the woman he loves, I'll choose Pinjar's Rashid because he more than makes up for it.

Pinjar - another favourite love story, and don't think there are that many!

While they may not all be man-children per se (unless we broaden the definition to encompass all emotional immaturity), they all go against the norm of the mopey, honourable end-of-century lover as made famous by Shah Rukh Khan, though far be it from me to lay the blame solely on him. It was definitely a trend everyone was a part of, he just happened to be the most famous, and therefore his movies are the hardest to avoid. So you know, I tend to rip on him more, but the problem extends to most movies from the 90s and early 2000s.

Taal - Oh, don't even get me started!

I find that the past decade has happily solved this problem for me! They may have brought in the slacker to replace the struggler, and the video-games player to replace the hard working college student, but hey, it's the SMS generation, isn't it? There is a short cut for everything, values and ethics have definitely changed.

Tere Bin Laden - how do you not love this slacker? And see, it doesn't even have to be a love story!

I must say I do love this generation. It's not just that I love the actors and the fact that they refuse, for the most part, to be stuck in the same role, but I also love this spirit of independence, this effervescence and yes, this streak of immaturity about it. On and off screen.

I love that they want the world and they think there's no reason why they shouldn't get it. Yup, I'll take the immature fighter over the mature, righteous quitter. Any day.

Road, Movie - what a classic!

It's the Little Things about Rockstar...

2011-11-16T14:45:00.000-08:00

I've resolved that even if I can't review Rockstar in something more coherent than a series of sighs, there are still a few things I would like to leave for posterity on this blog. One area in particular about the direction of this film interests me because of my background, and I'd like to share it with you since I don't expect most reviews will touch on it, and that's the "local colour".

In this day and age, when technology can deliver even snow to your doorstep in Miami, local colour is still something that very few artists manage to capture, be they photographers, painters, film-makers or writers. It's such an elusive concept too: is it the smells or a place, is it the colours, is it the muffled conversations in the background, is it the taste of a local dish, is it the blurred faces of people passing by? Probably all of the above, and then a little extra something, a detail here and there that is so unique and so representative of that place that it will release an avalanche of memories in an instant. Much like in Proust's famous episode of the madeleine.

Bollywood is not particularly renowned (feel free to read "infamously known for failing in this department") for researching and capturing the elements specific to the foreign set where parts of a movie are shot. Many examples come to mind, but the one that stands out for me right now is Kismat Konnection (because it was set in Toronto), which not only failed to capture anything that is typical for Toronto (really, it could have been any other city and the movie would have been the same), but also managed to sin against my patience by dubbing the "locals" with some sort of alien accent that I can't even place, but it sure as hell was not from this continent. And let's not even talk about Kahin Na and the ridiculous blondes jamming on mandolines with some sort of local rastafarian. Um... wtf??? Anyway, better stop here before I get all angry again.

And let's not even talk about the many productions that were shot in England, no, let's not even go there, Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham.

Come to think of it, apart from placing the action in certain very pretty places or iconic situations, I don't think Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara did terribly well with giving the film a pronounced Spanish colour, something that you can instantly recognize as typical. Sure the song Senorita is sung by a local flamenco singer, but apart from that everything in it is desi. The same can be said about the rest of the scenes in the film: whenever there are interactions with locals they're written from a desi point of view, none of it looks like it's been written by someone who has lived and interacted with the locals for too long.

But Rockstar truly impressed me. Not because I think Imtiaz Ali is brilliant (which I do), and not because Prague is one of my favourite places in the world (which it is), and certainly not because I adore the Italians in Italy (not so much the ones here, but that's a different matter), but I was in awe at how much I was feeling the local atmosphere in both Verona and Prague. They say the devil is in the details. And if so, Imtiaz Ali is one delicious devil.

I did appreciate the Italian police cussing Jordan in Italian (you know, as opposed to say, Hungarian or worse yet, Hindi!), and the marketplace atmosphere in the footage at the beginning of the film before Ranbir even appears on screen. But the one moment that struck me (and made me snort both times I saw it in the theatre) was during Ranbir's intro when he finally manages to escape the cops and gets off the streecar: two girls recognize him and start running after him screaming "E' Giordano! E' Giordano" (It's Jordan, it's Jordan!). I'm not sure how much this will amuse anyone else, but I am always in awe at how Italian people manage to translate everything in Italian, especially names. So to have them translate Jordan's name to Giordano in that brief sequence just tickled me into happiness. It's such a little detail that no one would even think twice about it, and who knows, maybe it all happened by accident, but if it didn't (as I like to hope), it's a wonderful proof of solid, careful film making from Imtiaz Ali. It's little things like this that I always hope to see in a film shot in a foreign location.

Which brings me to the second minuscule detail that coloured me happy, this time in the Prague scenes. Now this one may be entirely a fabrication of my too optimistic imagination, but there's a scene where JJ and Heer are having shots on a patio overlooking Hradcany and the St. Vitus Cathedral.

Leaving aside how gorgeous Prague looks throughout the film (though not even close to how charming it is in real life), did anyone notice the colour of the "cheap liquor" they're having? Because unless they were doing shots of the good tequila (and why would they have tequila in Prague?), I am willing to bet that coloured water was standing in for Becherovka, the most famous local bitters. Why would I get so excited about this? Well for one, because there's a bottle of it in my freezer than I can use to cheer to Imtiaz Ali's health when I am done with this post. But really, because, once again, when it's so easy to wing something as trivial as this and just have water standing in for vodka in those glasses, this kind of attention to detail is such a pleasant surprise.

As an aside, I am also amazed at how they managed to shoot on Charles Bridge, THE most iconic place in Prague, without a soul in sight. Because normally that bridge is packed with people, sketch artists and local musicians. So it looks more like this:

Speaking of local musicians... how in love am I with Hawa Hawa? No really, ask me how obsessed I am! Ok, fine, don't ask me, but I'll tell you anyway. I am so in love with that song that not even the ridiculous flamenco skirts can ruin it for me. (Granted, I do get it that they needed something colourful and easy to slip into, so I don't mind it, just pointing out that it's not exactly local. Even gypsy skirts would have been more appropriate.) But it makes me so happy that it starts with Jordan jamming with a group of street performers because I can so see that happening in a place like Prague where everyone is always up for a drink and a song.

Apart from sounding so authentically Eastern European that Goran Bregovic would probably blush in envy, the lyrics and story of Hawa Hawa are an adaptation of a fairy tale from the Grimm Brothers: The Twelve Dancing Princesses, whose origins are next door in Germany (if there is such a thing as origins for fairytales). But here's my favourite part: the details were changed to fit the story of Jordan and Heer. So the youngest princess turned into a queen, the curse turned into free will, and the king turned into her stiffling husband. Only the poor soldier stayed the same. Oh, how I love poetic licence! And how perfectly woven into the narrative that this is the first song Jordan composes after meeting Heer again in Prague.

I'm sure upon further rewatches (and there will be MANY of them!) I will giggle at many other little details like these from Rockstar. But for now, back to planning my third trip to the theatre to see Hawa Hawa once again on the big screen! I know everyone is all about Saadda Haq and Kun Faya Kun, and I am definitely with them, but Hawa Hawa gives me a special kind of nostalgic happiness that no other song has given me until now. And all the little paintbrushes of local colour from Rockstar make me wonder why it's been so damn long since I've been to Europe! Sigh... Add this to the pile as emotion number 563 that has not left me since I saw this film.

Rockstar - a Love Story Made for Me

2011-11-13T19:57:00.000-08:00

There are movies that punch you in the lungs and leave you breathless.
Rockstar is not that movie.
There are movies that leave you mellow and lazy as if you had just woken up on a Sunday morning.
Rockstar is not that movie.
Most movies just leave you unmoved, and some, too few, leave you thinking.
Those are not Rockstar either.

But then there are movies that you just feel in your gut, even when your mind can't explain them. Rockstar is like leaving a dry white sheet out in the rain. Every drop that falls on it is a new emotion, a new song, a new moment. At the end the sheet is heavy with rain, but even if you tried wringing it, the drops would not come out individually, as they came in. Rather they'd all flush down in a rush to sink back in the ground. So you don't wring it. You just let it sit there, heavy with all its meanings, until time slowly dries it and it's safe to offer it to the rain again.

I refuse to deconstruct Rockstar into its characters, its songs, its narrative, its dialogues, its first and second half, how it's Ranbir's career best, how Imtiaz Ali always speaks straight to my soul, how Rahman's music is immortal. It would be like trying to get each drop of rain back out of that sheet. Even if I managed to, it would leave it wrinkled, devoid of its meaning. I'd rather hold on to that heaviness it left in my stomach with its last images, its last flashback dialogue, with Rumi's poem. Over Mohit Chauhan's smooth voice.

"I couldn't live outside again", says Jordan to Heer. For anyone who wants to see it, that is the key to his character and to his thorny story. But that outside world doesn't know that. They only see the rebellion, and feed on it without understanding it. The more he tries to push them away, the more they are attracted to this darkness as if to a black hole. And while being drawn to it, they, in turn, exacerbate it. It's funny how the same society who constrains us to live and die in a certain "suitable" way, falls for the ones who won't conform, wants to posses them in a badly veiled attempt to hide the envy that they got away. When in fact... they never did get away. They're just as trapped as everyone else.

If you forget all that, it's easy to look at a song like Saadda Haq and call it a youth anthem, an inflammatory slogan, a middle finger raised to rules, war, and corruption. Because it's brilliant enough to also mean all these things. How easy it is to forget that it is, at the core, just a song about being allowed to cut your own path, to live after your own heart, whether it leads you to the right place or the wrong one.

It's also easy to look at Rockstar and rip its metaphors into little pieces of trivialities. After all, don't all painters use the same colours? But it's the big picture that makes an artist. Then again, all artists are often misunderstood.

Wait... Didn't I say I wasn't going to break it into pieces? Yes, I do believe I did.

Do I stop here saying it's my favourite love story of the year? Yes, I think I should.

"Main galat hoon, toh phir kaun sahi?" (If I am wrong, then who is right?)

MOuchoPrema for MOvember

2011-11-08T20:29:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes, it's November, and men are celebrating across the continent by growing moustaches for all kinds of causes. In the blogging universe however, we're predominantly women. So since growing one would be, maybe not impossible but rather anti-aesthetic, we found a better way to express our solidarity with the cause.

Presenting to you: MOuchoPrema, a month long celebration of moustaches in all shapes, sizes and connotations! Anything goes as long as it has a moustache!

All the links for this festival will be collected by the lovely Beth and posted here. So if you want to add your own, just tweet either one of us and use the hashtag MOuchoPrema, or drop us an email on our blogs.

Among other moustache aficionados, we have heard from the following bloggers who have posts in the works, or have already offered some for consumption:
Temple and Heather from Cinema Chaat
Liz from My Year of Prakash Raj
Vanessa from Shah Rukh Is Love
Katherine from Totally Filmi
Isabel from Perdue in Bollywood
Beth from Beth Loves Bollywood
and of course, yours truly!

Let me know if you want to join in! And for MOvember, let it grow, let it grow, let it grow!

It's MOvember... Zoom In on the 'Staches!

2011-11-08T20:14:00.000-08:00

5 years ago if you had asked me to name 5 moustachioed men I liked, I probably would have made a long pause after blurting out the first two obvious names: Salvador Dali and Freddy Mercury.

Some thinking time would have probably added Hercule Poirot and then I would have been stuck.

Well, that all changed with starting to watch Indian movies, where the moustache is glorified as THE most coveted symbol of virility and manliness. Hence all the jokes in films about young men who should stay out of adult affairs because they haven't even grown a moustache yet. And hence entire songs (or at least mentions) that pay homage to the hero's moustache.

Now personally I've never been a fan of the clean, lawyer-like shave, so in my book some well groomed facial hair that suits the person's face is always a win. Day-old beards fare very well too. But moustaches are a little tricky, and I'll admit it took me a little bit to warm up to them. However, now that I have, I really think there are people who owe it to themselves to sport a mooche more often, and these people are who this post is all about.

And just so we're all clear, moustache ONLY is what I was after. The combo of thick moustache and day-old beard, as can be seen on a few South Indian heroes (Ram Charan Teja is the first one that comes to mind, Sharvanand would be another) doesn't count. As much as I love it to bits. Nor have I looked at those heroes who have never been seen with a perfectly clean shave, or with a perfectly defined moustache, so actors like Allu Arjun and Mahesh Babu have been left out as well (as much as I enjoy posting pretty pictures of them).

Now that the methodology has been put in place, Dolce and Namak are ready to get into some serious moustache talk. By the way, you're also invited to vote on which look tickles your sex appeal bone!

First up - the Southies!

Vikram

Dolce and Namak in unison: Moustache. All the way. In fact: a clean shave = ewwwww!!!

Surya

Namak: You know, I'm actually kind of leaning towards the clean shave on this one...

Dolce: But but, look at that glorious display of manliness. Come on! You gotta give it to the stache, it's impressive.

Namak: No doubt. But if he were to just have a regular one, it would look like this:

Dolce: Hm... yeah, that's not exactly a winner. All right, clean shave it is.

Prakash Raj

Namak: Wow, that zoom-in was really not necessary.

Dolce: Shut up. It was. We have to pay homage to the perfection of this particular moustache.

Namak: Whatever. The vote would have been the same anyway: moustache 100%. People with such round faces should always put some thought into their facial hair.

Dolce: Not only that, but he really looks like he's missing something when he's shaved.
Namak: Agreed.

Prithviraj

Namak: Sigh... Do we have to get into this one again??

Dolce: No. This will be short and sweet: the moustache needs to DIE! It makes Prithvi look like the sleazy uncle you really don't want giving candy to your children. Or like a carpet salesman in a bazaar in Istanbul. Or like a 70's...

Namak: All right. Short and sweet, short and sweet, let's not go overboard now.

Dolce: Right. Short answer: lose it.

Siddharth

Namak: You know, Siddharth tends to either do the clean shave, the stubble, or a combo thing, I don't remember ever seeing him with a proper full mooche.

Dolce: Ah, how quickly you forget! Sure it may have been for a brief scene or two, but behold, a full bodied, elegant piece of awesomeness!

Namak: Oooooh! That is indeed a thing of beauty! Wait, are we sure it's not the lighting, or the green filter? Oh, whatever, it doesn't matter.

Dolce: So... vote for it? Yes?

Namak: Yes, I think I'm in love!

Sonu Sood

Dolce: Now that's a tough one! The problem with Sonu is that he looks good no matter what. I mean, truly, have we ever seen him look less than perfect?

Namak: Unfortunately, yes, I do believe we have!

Dolce: Oh boy, yes, I forgot about that! So then for the sake of consistency, we're going with no mooche on this one?

Namak: We are. Even though those stills from Maximum do look pretty damn good!

As an aside, before we move to the North, there are 2 actors that I don't ever even want to see without a moustache, because I am firmly convinced they would look terrible without it, and that's Chiranjeevi and Gopichand. Just putting this up there.

My suspicion about Chiranjeevi was in fact confirmed when my fellow Chiru aficionada Temple from Cinema Chaat gave me the link to this song. No. Just no.

On to the North? Oh, some good favourites here!

Abhishek Bachchan

Just in case you haven't read my review of Dum Maaro Dum, you can do so here. It will also explain the vote for the mooche in the above choice.

Namak: Really? We like him better than shaved?

Dolce: Not convinced? Ok, I'll add one more for good measure.

Namak: Ha! Fine, I suppose if the beard is not a choice, which is pretty much divine on him, mooche is better than nothing.

Ajay Devgan

Dolce: Seriously now! This is not even fair!

Namak: I know, right? Moustache all the way!

Dolce: Definitely one of the cases where I cannot for the life of me understand why he would ever even shave it.

Shahid Kapoor

Dolce: Oh dear, must we?

Namak: Oh yes, we must! No opportunity must be wasted in the effort to express our disdain towards Mausam.

Dolce: Ok. Are we happy now? Yes, the moustache is terrible.

Hrithik Roshan

Namak: Gosh, I'm shocked to say this, but that Jodhaa Akbar moustache is a win.

Dolce: And keep in mind he's hardly ever without any kind of stubble nowadays. And God knows in his youth he was not exactly pretty without facial hair either.

Namak: Yes, I do believe we have to go with moustache for Hrithik.

Aamir Khan

Namak: Oh boy, another tough one! I do love that Mangal Pandey 'stache!

Dolce: I know, dammit, me too! But I really like the clean shave business too. Gosh, so hard to choose!

Namak: Yes, especially when we throw this one on the table as well:

Dolce: You know, we haven't cheated at all this game. Can we? Please?

Namak: Was just thinking the same thing. All right. It's a tie!

Salman Khan

Dolce: I think this one has to be seen in action, but I do find the no-good-goonda mooche quite appealing.

Namak: Hey, considering we NEVER find Salman appealing, that would mean it wins by default, right?

Dolce: Why yes, yes, I suppose it does!

And this is the end of the North Indian batch. What? No SRK? No Saif Ali Khan? No Abhay Deol? Well, no. Some of them are so obvious that there's no fun in comparing them. Though this particular still from Mere Brother Ki Dulhan makes me wonder if Imran Khan would be a contestant in a future poll if he ever made a movie with that look...

But certainly we cannot end without taking a trip down memory lane, to talk about the one and only: Raj Kapoor. Possibly THE most famous 'stache in Indian cinema. Actually not much to talk about: I was unequivocally convinced of its glory when I saw Raj Kapoor without a moustache in Aag.

Ugh. No. Just no.

Whatever Happened to the Human Hero?

2011-11-01T20:30:00.000-07:00

Good versus evil movies seem to be the in thing right now (not that that's new, but more so than ever it seems), but lately, unless you're a hero with superpowers, you'd better sit down, because you've just been schooled. I'm thinking in particular about two recent releases both advertised as full-on masala: Hindi movie RaOne (a sci-fi story about a game designer who creates a villain so evil he escapes the game and comes to wreak havoc in real life) and Tamil movie 7Aam Arivu (about an ancient healer and warrior whose lineage still carries enough of his DNA structure to make his resurrection possible). Both of these movies rely heavily on visual effects, CGI, and stunts, but the most important factor that unites them is that the heroes and the villains are not just your average humans, they have superpowers.

I came across a tweet from Allu Sirish (this random guy that I like to follow, from this random family who runs some random film company in Andhra Pradesh) that I will discuss for a little bit because I think it nails a very important point. I've taken the liberty to fill in the blanks on words that were shortened so here's the full version: Lots of Bollywood directors think that the "South formula" is over the top action, but they don't get it: it's the rawness. "Force" gets it right. I haven't seen Force, so that part of the tweet didn't matter to me, but I had an eureka moment reading the rest of it because I had been trying to explain this very simple concept myself for so long and could never find the right word: rawness.

I think it's a little like when people mock old school Bollywood by saying "Oh, do they still dance around trees?" and you're fuming inside because you know there's a whole layer of symbolism that they are dismissing with that sentence just because they don't get why the singing and dancing are a perfectly valid form of expression. (Funny how some of the same people go to the Opera and don't snicker: "Do they still trill all their lines?" But I digress.).

South Indian hero movies are something along the same lines: you just have to understand that it's not about the special effects, it's about communicating that rawness that Sirish talks about in a way that makes sense visually. And over the years the consensus has been that the best way to do that is to have the hero punch the rowdies across 20 feet of empty yard and into a house wall. Or a variation of that anyway. With that came a whole repertoire of gestures, phrases and stances that make up the vocabulary of a hero, so you see neck cracking, finger pointing, shouting, knuckle popping, and the ominous fist clenching, which always spells trouble for the rowdies. It's not hard to understand this vocabulary, in fact a 5 year old could get it, which is probably why their parents take them to see even the bloodiest movies in theatres, but you do have to have some minimal understanding for why it even exists. If not, you'll have a really hard time digesting any kind of masala, particularly the South Indian variety.

But now here's the problem with this: just because people have learned to suspend their disbelief and pretend to accept that you can in fact punch someone and they will fly into that pile of wood across the street, it doesn't mean they have to accept that anything is possible. All that power that is communicated through these stunts is nothing but a metaphor for the inner strength of the hero (or for the evilness of the villain). It will not, however, allow them to fly, change bodies or otherwise become a part of the X-Men. The hero still has to defeat evil in a one-on-one fight.

And I don't mean this kind of one-on-one:

This is exactly what newer movies, with the advent of VFX, seem to have forgotten. If anything, visual effects work against this basic concept of rawness because they deny the hero the opportunity to display his strength. The moment superpowers come in, the hero loses his humanity, and thus becomes alienated from me and you, which greatly diminishes his appeal (despite the rocking abs, sorry Surya, still love you though!).

Back to the movies I was talking about in the beginning, 7 Aam Arivu features a villain and a sometimes a hero who can hypnotise anyone into doing anything. As a consequence, much of the confrontational scenes see them standing 10 metres away from each other and using this neat little superpower to attack and/or escape. It's fun to watch, sure, but I am disconnected from it as the viewer because I simply cannot make that leap of faith, it's too big for me. All of a sudden, it's not just going from a realistic punch that knocks someone out, to a super-punch that also flies them in the air before knocking them out. Now I have to buy this whole new set of rules and why should I buy them when I have not been given a single articulate reason by the script?

Similarly in Ra.One, the battle is between a robot and a villain whose entire existence is based on artificial intelligence (and some mumbo jumbo they included in the script at the beginning of the movie to make it sound like it could somehow make sense). They mostly fight by throwing fireballs at each other and by exploding cars and trains around them. Again, with great "help" from an idiotic script that bored me to tears, there is no connection to be made with either of these characters. Ok, except for wanting to take Arjun Rampal home after seeing his yummy look as RaOne.

Not that I have anything against progress or the use of visual effects and technology to enrich the look of a movie, by all means, go all out. I do however have a problem with it when it kills the soul of the film, and it's becoming harder and harder to draw that line. Where does the CGI stop and where does the hero begin? In Ra.One I can safely say I did not even catch a glimpse of the hero, so that's an easy one. For the same reason its predecessor, Endhiran, did not appeal to me either. In 7aam Arivu you do get occasional good moments mostly because the hero is not superhuman until very late in the film, so that helps a lot. It's a shame that the script lets it down because 7aam Arivu did have good potential. It manages to slip under the door of entertaining, but just barely.

Now I know it really sounds like I am complaining against all that's new and shiny in Indian movies (though for everyone who has read this blog before it would be a well-known fact that I am not in the habit of doing that), but my bone of contention is strictly with the irresponsible usage of this new and shiny stuff. Give me a movie that has the hero and the villain fight it out in a battle of musical instruments (ask me if you don't know where that's from, it's a sure sign that you missed out on an awesome movie) and use all the special effects you want. And by all means, do have people fighting on top of trains! But if all they can do is throw cars at each other until one of them runs out of fuel... no thanks.

Until the day Bollywood (and its regional counterparts) learns that visual effects are a means to an end, not the end itself, I think I am off any sci-fi coming out of India. And the funny part is, I am pretty sure G.One himself says in the film that superheroes are made from the heart, it's not the hardware that matters but rather the humanity. Pity the movie did not practice what it preached. If only it had borrowed some of the philosophy behind Terminator 2 along with all those visuals...

PS: When they're done with that lesson, we'll move to script writing, screenplays that don't insult every adult's intelligence, and turning plot craters into gentle slopes, but for now... I am happy with baby steps.

Mozhi Review... or an attempt at it

2011-10-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

There are movies that I can go on talking about for days. And then there are movies that I can only say one word about: squeeee! I generally choose to not write about the latter category since you know... it would be embarrassing. But, in the case of Mozhi, an exception must be made because the Internet is outrageously barren when it comes to reviews of this wonderful little gem. And that just doesn't seem fair.

Don't worry, it's not as cheesy as the poster makes it seem!

Mozhi is the story of two musicians and best friends, Karthik (Prithviraj) and Viji (Prakash Raj), who move in together in an apartment building. It's the strangest apartment building, with extremely modern, spacious living rooms,

but the bedrooms are so tiny that the two friends have to sleep together in the same bed, poor souls.

Perhaps also the reason why they are not too keen on having bachelors living there? No matter, the apartment plays host to the rest of their story as Karthik falls in love with deaf-mute neighbour Archana and thus our journey into the lives of the apartment building dwellers begins.

Archana (Jyothika) is a one-of-a-kind character. The movie gives her a unique treatment from the very start, and in fact she does fulfil the role of the strong, silent (no pun intended) and emotionally challenged hero, as opposed to the teary eyed heroine that usually embellishes the man's arm. She gets a hero-like introduction (the first time we see her she is kicking a drunkard's ass), and her intro song is a cross between your typical Mahesh Babu "I'm so badass" (TM) song and the sweet "She makes my heart go dhadak dhadak" heroine intro.

It's no surprise then that she is not only the central character of the film, but also its main hero.

Archana is deaf-mute from birth and she has seen her father abandon her mother because of that, which caused her to be extremely introverted, stubborn, and determined to stand on her own two feet. It also caused her to be apprehensive about men, particularly if they come with marriage proposals. This situation is, evidently, far from ideal for Karthik's budding love story.

Enter Sheela (Swarnamalya), Archana's best friend, who will not only act as a mediator between them, but she will also teach him sign language and a little bit about Archana's heart language. Aaaand she will have her own adorable story, but can't say too much about that because it will spoil the surprise.

On the surface this is a simple love story: boy meets girl, girl is not interested in boy, boy must work hard to woo girl, girl finally falls for him. But in a movie where everything goes against the norm, that's not even the beginning of it. One aspect that really interested me has to do with another role reversal: typically in a love story we see the girl being fascinated by everything that the hero says and does, while his interest in her "personality" is more of the physical/superficial variety. In Mozhi, Karthik doesn't fall for her looks or her femininity, he falls for her... well, badassness. As the story progresses, the more he discovers about her, the more he admires her for her strength, her pride and her self-respect.

This get mirrored on the heroine's side with a bit of a gender reversal as well. I particularly enjoyed the way Archana starts to take interest in music and rhythms as she gets to know Karthik, a very subtle but certain sign that she is becoming interested in him.

But underneath this, by starting to get in touch with a form of art that she never understood before, she is learning to understand him emotionally, something that, again, is behaviour usually reserved for the hero. It's not that the typical love story doesn't have a hero with emotions, but it's usually him that has to learn to understand her delicate feelings, him trying to learn the language of her soul, a language that he initially doesn't understand, not the other way around. We're used to the girls being the delicate flowers and the boys being the elephants in a china store. Mozhi does things just a little bit differently.

There are many little details like this that I really enjoyed in this movie, all having to do with modified mirror images. At one point Archana gifts Karthik a violin made of soap. It's a musical instrument, but it doesn't make any sounds. Later on, Karthik gifts her a pocket watch that plays a tune when opened. It's not a musical instrument, but it plays music. Through these gifts, she can now share his music, and he can share her silence.

I always said I appreciate love stories that change a character, that make them see the world in a different way, and this is one of the reasons why I am so in love with these characters: they don't come into each other's world just to live in it, they come to enrich it. By making an effort to learn each other's languages, both characters discover a side of their personality they never even knew they had. This is probably why the scene that touched me the most was Karthik's encounter towards the end with a little deaf-mute girl who is trying to sell him flowers. As empathic and kind as Karthik is from the very beginning, that entire conversation would have never taken place without Archana's presence in his life.

Now I realize that I have been talking incessantly about the main love story, but funnily enough, that's not even my favourite part of the film. My favourite part is the relationship between the two friends, Karthik and Viji. In fact Mozhi for me is as much a romance as it is a bromance, and the chemistry that Prithviraj and Prakash Raj share here is truly special. It's like watching two friends on candid camera, there is nothing forced in the way they laugh together, the way they poke fun at each other, the way they talk and learn from each other, and most of all the way they're always there for each other. I don't think I have ever seen either of the two actors in such jolly roles, and at such level of comfort, it really is like peeking through a hole into the real life of two roommates. They play off each so other brilliantly for comedy, that it's impossible not to grin happily during their scenes together.

Ah! Gold! Each and every one of their scenes! Such goofs!

Which actually brings me to a little something I wanted to say about Prakash Raj. Now I know he's been in some hundred of films, but why is it that there are only a handful where he plays a character different from Prakash-Bad and Prakash-Dad? If there was any doubt, Mozhi proves that he can do it and well, so I confess to being a little disappointed with him for not doing more with this talent. Not that I don't appreciate Prakash-Dad and Prakash-Bad, God knows I will watch a bad movie if he is the villain any day, but films like Mozhi and Iruvar make me sad to see him typecast so much.

Speaking of wasted potential, I am not Jyothika's biggest fan, but she truly made this role one of her best performances. Such a shame that she gave up acting after this film. She seems to have trouble emoting sometimes (and a few times in this film), but the fact that she made the sign language work so fluently for her character and pulling off a role where she has no lines, is indeed commendable. I quite enjoyed her in this film, as I enjoyed her sidekick, Swarnamalya.

It would not be a complete review if I didn't mention all the secondary characters, neighbours from the apartment complex, but then, this was never meant to be a proper review, nor do I want to spoil some of the surprises by bringing them up here. Suffice to say, it's a pleasure to see some well-developed secondary characters who are not there to move the plot forward necessarily, but rather to populate and enrich a world that becomes more real with each of them.

Now that Mozhi is available on DVD with subtitles, there is no excuse for not watching it. Besides, how often do you hear me rave so much about a love story, huh?

Anandabhadram Review

2011-10-02T14:31:00.000-07:00

While I am sure everyone reading this blog knows about my undying love for cinematographer/director Santosh Sivan, who can do no wrong as far as this blogger is concerned, I need to also make sure everyone is aware of my newest crush, Malayalam actor Prithviraj. Because you know, this review may be (read: IS) partially (read: completely) influenced by this little detail. But I promise to try and keep it real. Emphasis on "try".

The film starts with a lovely scene where a mother tells her son about the legend of the Sivakkavu temple, an ancient place where the diamond containing the soul of the world is kept.

Evil sorcerers have tried to snatch it to obtain its power, but the little snake Kunjoottan protects it with the help of the locals. However, the temple has fallen in ruin and is now host to Digambaram's blood sacrifices. The powerful sorcerer is, as his predecessors, in search of a way to obtain the diamond hidden in the temple.

Anandabhadram belongs to the fantasy genre of Indian cinema. You know, the genre based on local legends, with black magic priests, guardian snakes, temple goddesses and power rings. Yeah, the genre that usually goes all kinds of wrong in the hands of other directors. Thankfully, Santosh Sivan manages to do it justice, despite a rocky beginning.

Namak: Oh God, those white people on the train in the beginning were just awful. What was the point of that anyway?

Dolce: To introduce Anandan as the son and the other villager, I suppose, but yes, pretty awful stuff.

Namak: You know, why is it that in Indian movies everyone who comes from "foreign" (be they Indian born or not) has to appear slightly retarded? There have been a few instances just in the past 6 months where that really bugged me: Delhi Belly, Mere Brother Ki Dulhan, The Householder and now this one. Really guys, not every pardesi/firangi is a caricature! Prithviraj took a good half of the movie to start acting like a normal person instead of the hyper doofus he appears to be in the beginning.

Dolce: It may be some sort of subliminal patriotic message. But either way, I was too busy making fun of the goofy moustache to notice. At least until this moment, when it really stopped being goofy.

Namak: Right, well, there goes that intelligent conversation...

The film gets better once Anandan gets to his mother's village and the pace is very well maintained throughout. Even the suspense, which most Indian films have trouble with, is kept up well. And the tale takes some interesting turns as more pieces get added to the puzzle. It may not be a terribly layered story, but it's definitely a well told one, which is more than enough for me.

The fantasy premise of the film doesn't allow for too much social commentary, except for one moment towards the end, which I will discuss in the spoiler paragraph.

**SPOILER for the END**

So as it turns out, the only way to defeat the evil sorcerer is to rob him of his powers obtained through chastity. In other words, someone has to rape him. While I am not typically a violent or vengeful person, I did find this twist particularly delightful because this is the first time I am seeing a man losing everything along with his virginity, while we see women raped and their lives destroyed by this virtually all the time in movies. It felt rather satisfying, even if someone had to make a sacrifice in order for this to happen (which makes for a whole other discussion, but I suppose in Sivan's defense, we could claim that her life had already been compromised and revenge was the only possible solution).

**SPOILER OVER**

This film is surprinsingly tame for a Santosh Sivan offering, not his usual visual extravaganza, and in a way it reminds me more of Mani Ratnam films. Granted, all Mani Ratnam films that Sivan did the art direction for, so I suppose it's all coming from the same source anyway. Just a few screencaps to illustrate:

A girl's innocent surprise in front of her own beauty, such a Mani Ratnam staple!

That last one reminds me a lot of Raavan/Raavanan, which also makes me wonder, after seeing Prithviraj in the second half of Anandabhadram when the evil forces take over: what would he have done with the role of Beera/Veera in Raavan instead of Abhishek/Vikram? Food for thought...

Despite some similarities to other film makers, Santosh Sivan still makes this movie all his by adding some of his favourite little quirks: those reverse spinning shots and the rivers of fabric in this song:

...mist-filled close-ups like this one:

...and I am pretty sure I saw Chemban training with an urumi for a brief 3 seconds!

Also, unlike many film makers, especially in this genre, Sivan knows how to keep his focus on the topic at hand and to not try to cram too many sidestories. Is it any wonder, with a name like Santosh, that I'm always ridiculously happy while watching his movies?

Apart from the visuals, which are exquisite, the other forte in a Sivan movie is also present: gorgeous songs. The concept of Pinakkamano in particular made me giggle with delight: it's a song set inside a series of paintings! Now what can I possibly want more?

Dolce: And a special shout out to the actresses in this film!

Namak: Right, Kavya Madhavan, Riya Sen and Revathy all do a fantastic job, almost outshining the men.

Dolce: Ok, you need to get over this issue you have with Prithvi in the first half. He was great after he became normal and fell in love with the village girl. He even forgot to say "interesting" all the time.

Namak: Nope, not letting go, I will not have my boy overact just to show how dumb foreigners are. It was silly and I will not get over it.

Dolce: Suit yourself. I'll forgive him anything after that sexy chemistry with Kavya.

We wonder, as we always do, what will happen to these characters after the closing credits, as this is another one of those stories where things cannot possibly go smoothly what with the different backgrounds, and different views of the world that each half of the couple brings to the table, but I really don't think we are supposed to go this far. I did however appreciate that despite the strict parental control, some of the elders in this village were enlightened enough to root for the blooming romance with the "man from foreign", and the village belle herself was not exactly the sheltered type. There's no shying away from holding hands and sharing embraces, so Bhadra is definitely my kind of girl.

And one last random thought: Oh my, how gracefully Revathi has aged since Mouna Ragam! She still lights up the screen with that smile!

Aye haye, what a beauty!

Anadabhadram is like Provolone cheese: smooth, tender and buttery without too many strong notes. It leaves a sweet impression and you crave the texture of it often, despite it not being a strong cheese. It's easy on the taste buds just like Anandabhadram is easy on the eyes and light enough to not weigh you down at the end.

Violence - between Catharsis and Solution

2011-09-30T19:13:00.000-07:00

I often wonder how I ever started watching Indian movies (particularly from the South) where people get killed every 5 minutes in the most gruesome ways. I am fairly certain that part of my problem with Hollywood movies at a point was that there is too much violence in them, so how did I end up here?

More importantly, how do I reconcile my moral compass and its respect for life with revenge sagas like Dookudu, Munna, Kaakha Kaakha and Anwar, all movies that I quite enjoyed? (And yes, this post is a result of having just seen the Telugu film Dookudu in the theatres, a movie about a police officer who takes revenge on the people who offed his father, and reading that it's on its way to become a superhit.)

The first question is actually easier to answer. I still find the violence in American movies way too realistic to tolerate, and in fact, I still cover my eyes through the more gruesome parts of Indian films as well. It helps that most of the time it's more about the rowdies flying like frisbees than it is about chopping off their legs with machetes, so I suppose if I could watch Tom and Jerry inflict pain on each other when I was a kid (well, usually just Jerry on Tom but you get the idea), this is the somewhat grown-up version of it. Besides, most of the times I watch it for the choreography and the creativity of the fights rather than for the actual end result. It never ceases to amaze me how many objects can be broken with one rowdy and how artfully two people can tangle in midair.

And even though I still have an undying love for a good reverse roundhouse kick, I have developed a soft spot for all kinds of flying kicks too, some more realistic than others.

Lately however, what with guns and water taps becoming more popular, the good old kick in the neck followed by a bloodless knock-out seems to have been replaced by buckets of fake red dye and impalings. And this is where I think my old lack of tolerance for violence will make a comeback.

But that's only part of what I wanted to talk about.

Because once we get past the visuals, we come to the more thorny issue of morals. And morally ambiguous films. You know, the ones where the hero just "gets them all" in the end. Not to say that only the South does it, because that's certainly not true, Ghajini, Shor in the City and A Wednesday being stellar examples of Bollywood films that seem to condone killing off all the bad guys. And not to say that Hollywood doesn't do it, though for the most part they tend to sugar-coat it as superhero movies, historicals, war movies and all kinds of scenarios far enough removed from the immediate reality that they do away with our moral compass by sheer virtue of displacement. Certainly something worth talking about as well (why the moral compass doesn't apply there), but perhaps by someone more qualified in the field of American movies than me.

I think one way or another every film industry does it because, let's face it, it satisfies a basic human need that wants to see all evil disappear even if it's only for 10 minutes after the climax of a movie. Revenge sagas are a lot like spicy food to me. Spicy food (specifically hot chillies) apparently activates the pain receptors in the mouth and throat which triggers the brain to pump your heart faster and also to release endorphins. But at the same time, you know that it cannot harm you, so what you're really getting is free endorphins. Revenge sagas seem to work in much the same way: you get the endorphins associated with the bad guys getting offed, but none of the guilt or pain associated with it if it were for real. It doesn't stop you from feeling compassion in real life just like spicy food doesn't stop you from feeling pain, but it definitely helps you feel good for the moment.

I would imagine in a country where terrorism and corruption are every-day news, that need for catharsis is exacerbated, which would explain why there is virtually no need to sugar-coat anything and the hero can even be a cop and still get away with killing off all the villains. But is there no limit to how many people a hero can kill off before anyone wonders: what if they're not all bad? Sure, a film like Dookudu makes a pretty solid case for eliminating them, and besides you get to really admire the creative ways in which the villains are done away with, but is Mahesh being badass reason enough to not even wonder: what was this guy's side of the story?

Malayalam movie Anwar gets particularly puzzling on the topic because the bloody (and gorgeously shot) finale is preceded by some discussions in the beginning of the movie about precisely that: should all terrorists or suspected terrorists be trialed and sentenced to death based on word of mouth or ethnicity? Which in the end begs the question: if the rest of the world is not fit to judge them, why is the hero? Just because he's been wronged? Now don't get me wrong, I did appreciate the angle of not pitching different religions against each other, for a change, but nonetheless, does that make anything right?

Sometimes I think my brain has trained itself, and perhaps this is also the case with Indian audiences, to view this as a game of sorts, to the point where it doesn't actually have anything to do with what I find acceptable in real life and what I don't. After all, I don't find fist-fighting acceptable in real life either, and yet here I am cheering for all these guys to kick ass, right? Similarly, while I would always be in favour of a fair trial for anyone, it doesn't create much of a cognitive dissonance to see the chief villain getting beaten to a pulp and then hung by some loose pipe or hook. It still bugs me on some level, but I can still enjoy the movie just fine. But is it really only that?

I'll tell you a quick story from my motherland. There was a ruler once, some 500 years ago, who would give an awfully painful death to anyone who sinned against society: thieves, liars, criminals, etc. He also had many battles to his name and even some brilliant political moves, but I bet people would be hard pressed to name them. However, everyone remembers him for the fact that he cleaned the country of its bad elements. Nowadays when the country is about as corrupt as India and hopeless for a recovery, his name gets mentioned a lot in association with the only possible solution to the corruption plague: kill'em all!...

I used to only think of revenge plots and kill-them-all climaxes as catharsis, but with the inclusion of state powers more and more lately, I am slowly starting to see another explanation. If catharsis was the only goal, then the hero could just be a likable pokiri (no pun intended), standing on the side of good and triumphing against evil. But with the hero being in the force (police, military, what have you) or being helped by someone in the force, it becomes much more than the "side of good", now it's also the "side of just". Not only justice for the hero, but for all of society. It's a small shift, but I think it changes a lot in the perception of those watching. You see, it's not just the lonely hero getting revenge for the death of his lover, now he's also the hand of justice, purging out the bad elements in society. It's no longer just a personal battle, it becomes symbolic of everyone's battle against terror, corruption and evil-doers, because the law is on the hero's side.

Which makes me wonder, if we think of artists as a mirror of their times, as well as the instruments for change in an era, how much of this is intentional? Are film makers really trying to suggest this type of no-trial justice is what should be happening? I don't dare think so, but it does make me wonder. Certainly audiences are becoming more and more interested in this type of plot, fact proved by the fact that just today we have another "cop out for revenge" movie coming out: Force.

Maybe it's not only catharsis after all, maybe there's more to it than just seeing the hero being badass...

As it turns out, my moral issues with these films are rather shallow, because this is about much more than an ethical question about whether or not the police should protect people or kill them. Not only does the kill-em-all plot fulfil a need to see justice triumph, it also, in a very twisted way, gives one hope that this can happen *with* the help of the law.

I think I am going to feel a whole lot better about Pokiri the next time I watch it.

Smiles and Frowns at TIFF11

2011-09-18T15:46:00.000-07:00

Well, this was certainly not the year when I should have decided to broaden my horizons and experiment with more films at TIFF. I am usually broke by the end of the summer, so I tend to just go to one or two highly anticipated Hindi films and call it a day. This year I figured, heck, let's support Indian-ness at TIFF a little bit more consistently, and had planned an (almost) "a film a day extravaganza".

**Breakaway**

The disappointments started before the stars even rolled into town: my trusted friend and fellow Bo/Ko/Tollywood aficionada, Larissa (@elegnt_hedgehg on Twitter), had to break it to me that tickets for the much buzzed about Breakaway (about which I blogged briefly here) were sold out in less than an hour and that I would have to wait just like the rest of them until September the 30th to see it.

Just as I was falling in love with the soundtrack. It's hard to say if that was a blessing in disguise since reviews for it have been rather unkind, but what can I say, I must be a sucker for marketing because I really wanted to see it.

Despite this... um... thing. Whatever it is...

Or maybe all the more because of it!

And for crying out loud, they brought in an elephant on Yonge Street on the day of the premiere!!

But you know, I missed the elephant because of another film: Azhagarsamy's Horse. The Tamil movie at TIFF this year.

**Azhagarsamy's Horse**

Azhagarsamy's Horse is one of those films that are perfect educational material when one wants to explain the concept of "first half" and "second half" in Indian films. I would imagine it's hard for people who don't watch Indian films to understand how a movie can be excellent in one half and terrible during the other. Hollywood films are either good overall or bad overall. Azhagarsamy's Horse falls under: awful first half, brilliant second half.

The first half sets up the scene in a poor village where agriculture (and by extension rain) is the only lifeline for some hundred villagers. When it hasn't rained for a few years, unlike the resourceful bunch in Lagaan, who knew exactly what gods to pray to (the gods of cricket, obviously!), the villagers resort to all kinds of solutions, one more pathetic than the other. They all involve white magic, or better said crooks posing as priests or messengers of the Gods. And of course, they all involve the villagers rounding up what little money they have left to pay these crooks or to make sacrifices for the gods.

I think I may be a little tired of these types of shenanigans and of the side plots with the priest whose job consists of fooling the poor innocent villagers. They seem to show up in all kinds of Tamil and Telugu films, often as the comic relief, and I find it neither funny nor sympathetic. So a whole hour of these clowns parading around on the screen sure made the prospect of going out and seeing the Breakaway elephant terribly attractive. Add to that some 20 minutes of technical difficulties before the second half started and you can just about picture my long face before the second half of Azhagarsamy's Horse.

But then this little guy shows up.

And all of a sudden... we have a movie! We have a beautiful, touching story, actually several of them, we have some character development, we have some charming surprises, we have love, we have justice, we have compassion, we have forgiveness, we have friendship, and just about everything that makes for a lovely film. Truly lovely. All thanks to this one character, played superbly by Appukutty.

**Mushrooms (Chatrak)**

My next adventure was Vimukthi Jayasundara's Mushrooms (Chatrak), a French production shot in Calcutta and spoken for the most part in Bengali.

It's a very slow paced film (we're talking "2001: Space Oddysey" slow here!) about the consequences of industrialization and about the downside of progress. The grey majesty of Calcutta is shot in a masterful way which lets you ponder in between short scenes of plot development. I can't say I liked the movie, though I am certain I would have felt very positively about it had it been a 20 minute short film instead of a full feature, but it did leave me with some brilliant imagery and some profound symbolism that I am not likely to forget any time soon.

**Michael**

After having to revise my choice for "most awaited film at TIFF" twice, I finally defaulted to Michael, as the only much awaited film I did actually see at TIFF. Anurag Kashyap's newest production, directed by the very amiable newcomer Ribhu Dasgupta, is a psychological thriller about a former police officer who is struggling with progressive myopia. Protecting his 12 year old son and maintaining a relationship with him is the force that keeps him going and as we watch Michael fall apart we begin to experience some of that over-protectiveness ourselves, shifting our empathy from Michael to the little helpless boy.

Michael works as a thriller up to a certain point, when it becomes all too clear what is happening, but by then we are already caught in the web of curiosity so we continue watching in awe at what may or may not happen. The ending was changed by the director upon receiving feedback from people in the industry, and that in itself is sad, because they were probably right. I always have to keep in mind that us festival going audiences are not the same as the audiences in India, so where we would love to see ambiguity, other audiences would probably not. But except for this little disappointment, Michael delivers a very tender emotional story that sends the psychological aspect to the back seat which is why it worked for me.

As always, Naseeruddin Shah shines in a role that exploits his tremendous talent to its fullest and he is beautifully complemented by young Purab Bhandari (whose talent we had the pleasure to appreciate before in the heart-melting Tahaan).

Unfortunately, even this film came with its own frown, perhaps the saddest of them all: the film is dedicated to the late Somak Mukherjee, the brilliant cinematographer who gave us Pankh and Iti Mrinalini (which I have yet to see) before Michael. A very talented man whose work in Michael deserves every praise: a film that was shot mostly at night, in a decaying Calcutta, and yet its quaint beauty shines through in every frame. Such was this man's talent. I am truly sad that I have to praise Somak Mukherjee in past tense.

**Mausam**

Of course, the most dramatic frown of the festival was reserved to the cancellation of Mausam, a day before its world premiere. I have spent far too much time expressing my displeasure with many of the details of this fiasco, so for this post I will remain peaceful and use the paragraph to give props to the organizers at TIFF for the extremely professional way in which they handled this disaster. We got our money back the very next day and they were in excellent crisis management form. I'm sure vases were broken behind closed doors, and I can only hope TIFF never has to experience this again, but they did make me proud.

**More frowns**

Speaking of frowns, I should mention my greatest disappointment this TIFF: I didn't get to see Salman Rushdie in a conversation with Deepa Mehta about Midnight's Children. Poor timing, and it sold out quickly, so I suppose it wasn't meant to be. Now I don't like Deepa Mehta and find that her skills as a film-maker are always overshadowed by her bitterness as a person, but I still await Midnight's Children with trepidation because, you know, I adore Salman Rushdie. Since he was involved in the script writing, there is hope for this movie still.

Of the three films I did manage to see so far, only two of the directors showed up, and none of the cast. Truly a shame to not see Naseeruddin Shah at the premiere of Michael after that fantastic performance. I am sure the audience would have been off their seats!

Last on my list for TIFF this year: Trishna - Michael Winterbottom's interpretation of Tess of the d'Urbervilles, set in modern-day India. But barring a sensational performance from Freida Pinto, I doubt I will find anything to blog about since Tess is definitely not one of my favourite books. Sorry, was that too subtle? Ok, I hated this story, so there!

Bol & Khuda Kay Liye - Shoaib Mansoor's Yin & Yang

2011-09-08T21:44:00.000-07:00

I still have no idea how Bol, a Pakistani movie by director Shoaib Mansoor, even got distribution in Toronto. Heck, Anurag Kashyap has trouble bringing his films to the big screens here sometimes! But imagine my surprise when, while looking for screening times for Bodyguard, I found this little gem playing all over the city. Sometimes the Gods of Filmistan just smile upon Toronto and it seems that September is that magical month of the year when They give in abundance. Lucky us!

So off I went, despite the late hour and despite the length of the film (2:45), and most importantly despite being terrified of seeing a film by the director of Khuda Kay Liye alone in a theatre. And good thing I went. Because as hard hitting as Bol is, it's no Khuda Kay Liye. Mercifully! Though it does complement Khuda Kay Liye in many ways and it resolves all the issues I had with Shoaib Mansoor's first film.

If most of the acting in Khuda Kay Liye was forced and cringe-worthy, there are no more traces of that in Bol where every single character, no matter how small, lingers in your thoughts long after the movie is done. If Khuda Kay Liye was depressing beyond tears, Bol brings a ray of hope at the end of the long gutting journey. If Khuda Kay Liye was excessively explicit visually (and I do understand why that was needed, I can't even disagree, but still had a hard time erasing some of the images from my memory for months), Bol shows almost no violence, even though the characters go through many ugly, terrifying experiences. It's almost like the director made this movie to create the perfect pair for Khuda Kay Liye. All while keeping, just like the yin and yang symbols, a thread of darkness in Bol and a glitter of lightheartedness in Khuda Kay Liye (pretty much summed up by the fantastic Bandya).

The one thing that stayed the same for both films was the brilliant direction and the remarkable script.

After seeing both films, I have to say I am trully impressed with Shoaib Mansoor's campaign for gender equality, a theme that has been given prime time in both of his films. If Khuda Kay Liye deals with a father's right over his daughter and how the Quoran can be twisted and distorted to make that power seem boundless, Bol takes up a different angle: a woman's right to say no to pregnancy (and to make any decisions for herself for that matter). A very delicate issue still, even in Western countries where families can afford to feed all their offsprings, unlike Hakim Khan, the father figure in Bol, whose profession (traditional medicine) is steadily declining while his family grows incontrollably. All his fault of course, because he is blinded not only by his desire to have a son instead of 7 daughters, but also by his faith that says every pregnancy coming from Allah should be accepted (a belief that will turn out to be nothing more than a convenient disguise when the family is "blessed" with a hermaphrodite son).

Needless to say, my admiration for the director only increased after reading the following words from him on the film's website:

"Having been so blessed in life, I often think of the things that I should be grateful for. The list always seems to be never ending, but invariably it ends at one thing... that I was born as a MAN.
Nothing in the world scares me more than the thought of being born a woman or a eunuch in a country like Pakistan, where obscurantism has deep roots. It is very unfortunate that we make tall claims, full of pride, about the rights of woman granted by our religion and yet when I look around in underdeveloped Muslim countries in general and Pakistan in particular I find things totally the opposite. Tragically, our interpretation and application of religion seems to begin and end with woman. Leave the 5% urban educated elite aside, women seem to be the playground (battleground) where we practice a medieval form of religion."

Such a disarmingly candid statement of facts, and at the same time such an unlikely base to build movies like "Khuda Kay Liye" and "Bol" on. I suppose it's precisely this type of honesty that gives birth to such powerful female characters in his films. Perhaps sometimes one must be on the outside to better understand what is happening behind closed doors? Some could look at these words and call them almost offensive, but I can only think of what balls it takes to make a movie like Bol while admitting your worst fear is to have been one of the film's characters.

The trailer hardly touches on any of the issues that the film brings forward: hermaphrodites, honour killings, gang male rape, prostitution, birth control, and instead focuses on the action and the suspense. That's what sells I suppose, but I for one was very happy to find out that most of the violence and the action in the film was already shown in the trailer and there was not much left to shock me in the theatre.

It's entirely unexpected in fact that this seems like such a dark film judging by the trailers, but while watching you spend some of the most tense scenes smiling, whether it's at the little moments shared between the sisters, or at the sweet nothings shared by the lovers. But most of all you smile at the irony of the world of prostitutes and pimps mirroring the orthodox world of Hakim Khan: if in the latter a house full of daughters is a cross one must bear in the name of Allah, in the former, a house full of working girls would be a blessing and a gift from God. The events that have the two worlds gallop towards each other for the first 2 hours are certainly compelling and fascinating to watch, but it's this final battle of virtues and ethics that makes this movie such a gem. Add to that the mindblowing performance of Shafqat Cheema, the head pimp and Iman Ali's glowing presence as the alluring Meena, and... let's just say you'll never think of Umrao Jaan quite the same.

I must admit, I was disappointed by the fact that Atif Aslam's role is not as big as I would have wanted it to be, though he does get to be a through and through hero, which makes him even more crushable for Dolce's fragile heart. I was a little nervous about how he would do in his first film, but he had no problems winning my heart as the open-minded young urban professional (and literally boy next door) Mustafa. And wait, he sings too! Aye haye!...

Of course, despite my love for Atif Aslam, I must (reluctantly) admit, this is not his film. This film belongs to Manzar Sehbai (who plays Hakim, the father of the family) and to Humaima Malik (the daughter who recounts the story of her family and the events that lead to the death sentence she is about to face). Not only is this lady strikingly beautiful, but she truly makes the character of Zainub a part of your life for 2 hours. Her voice in particular bleeds with so much grief and such sadness that you're almost afraid to hear her speak further.

But of course she does and as she tells her story, the many questions that the movie will leave you with arise. Even if none of them get resolved (and how could they?) the doubt alone and the ability to question the status quo are enough to consider the film's purpose achieved.

The only part of the movie that I am still torn on is the ending. On the one side I really needed it to end this way, but on the other, I have to question the credibility of such an epilogue. Then again, like I said in the beginning, if Bol is the yin to Khuda Kay Liye's yang, then it's absolutely the perfect ending.

Either way, a movie well worth travelling at late hours for and a great preview (even if unrelated) for my Toronto Film Festival week which starts in some... 40 hours. Not that anyone's counting of course.

Megabirthday Celebration

2011-08-28T17:40:00.000-07:00

The girls at Cinema Chaat know all too well that I am always game for Chiranjeevi chaat, so when they proposed this week long celebration of Chiru's work, I'm certain it came as no surprise that I was all in. However, despite my initial enthusiasm, I was stuck on which film to actually talk about. I debated the value of reviewing a lovely film that is nowhere to be found with subtitles over a silly one of the "so bad it's good" variety. Then I debated whether or not I wanted to turn this post into a picspam/ avatar spam and shower the world in Chiru imagery. Then I thought maybe some of his songs would do nicely since there are so many worth talking about. And then I decided: oh screw it, I'll just do it all!

Because the fact is what I love most about Chiranjeevi is that he can go effortlessly from a serious movie with a social message like Aradhana to an over the top action film where the dancers shine like chandeliers and the rowdies fly like frisbees a la State Rowdi. And through all that still manage to hold on to the two immovable constants that are his charm and his moustache.

Having just finished watching Subha Lekha for this post, I have to admit there are very few actors that I would watch an unsubtitled movie for. Chiru is one of these few because he never lets me get bored. Between his facial expressions and his voice modulations, the phyiscality of his acting always manages to keep me interested. It's rich enough to keep my eyes glued to the screen, and yet real enough to not slip into the well-treaded territory of overacting. It's remarkable, though certainly not surprising, how well he gets into the skin of his character in Subhalekha, a cheerful, always dutiful waiter at a spiffy hotel, with all the mannerisms of a well-groomed 5-star resort employee. He walks it, he stands it, he talks it, he breathes it in every scene. To then give us a glimpse every once in a while of the real human being lying under the coats of diplomacy whenever his buttons get pushed. One of the most nuanced performances I have seen from Chiru so far, definitely a favourite!

Subhalekha in particular has one more big argument in its favour: how many films do we see where people communicate in song? Murthi, Chiranjeevi's character is in fact so good at it that he can even sing his way out of a lecture from his boss.

Lakshmi, the younger sister of Chiru's love interest is also a fabulous singer who accompanies her trills with dance moves as well.

Sujatha (played by Sumalatha), Chiru's love interest, admonishes him with hums when he doesn't want to read proper literature. This movie made me think: how peaceful would the world be if everyone communicated through dance and song. If you had to resolve arguments in song, would anyone even argue anymore?

Murthi singing and dancing his way out of a sticky moment

Of course there are other reasons to watch Subhalekha, a film that condemns the dowry system in India and the pressure it puts on families that want the best for their daughters and yet cannot afford to marry them into good families because the "cost" of a good groom far surpasses their financial capabilities.

On top of excellent performances from everyone on the screen, Subhalekha also benefits tremendously from the scarcity of "comic relief" side-plots which is a huge plus in my book. Chiru dancing his way out of being chased by a dog provides more than enough smiles and giggles for me than any of the funny guys that Telugu movies love so much.

Namak: I am tempted to say that every Chiranjeevi movie should be like Aradhana and Subhalekha: a moving, restrained performance from the lead pair and a serious topic dealt with maturely.

Dolce: But then... but then there is something to be said for over the top fights, for shiny dance costumes, for colourful lunghis and for badassness that only Chiranjeevi the action hero can provide.

Namak: Granted. But these elements can easily be incorporated into no-nonsense films too. Point in case: the following are excerpts from one.

Dolce: That particular song was a masterstroke in Subhalekha. We both know that it's an exceptional feat to indulge in such great fun in a class movie without ruining it completely.

And this is why we need Chiru to also do fun films like Andarivaadu, where he plays a drunken mass-hero father and a sober class-hero son while romancing, dancing and fighting rowdies. And chasing cute rats. And being absolutely, hilariously ridiculous.

Namak: Only problem is, these hardcore masala movies tend to also indulge in tacky stuff like this song:

Dolce: Ahem... you know my opinion on that: if you don't like it, skip it. Item numbers are not the reason why you are watching the movie in the first place.

Namak: Weeeeell, sometimes they are, as a matter of fact. But no, not in this one. Though in all fairness, the other songs, choreographed by none other than Lawrence, are all exquisite.

All this aside, what really makes the movie Andarivadu is the relationship between the son and the father. Sure there's Tabu as a beautiful bride, and Prakash Dad as a villain, and good dancing, and fun fights, and really bad stunts from Rimi Sen, and let's not forget the cute rat.

Meet Ganesh, the most delightful rat that ever haunted a house!

But for all the overly dramatic music and all the over the top dialogues, there are some great moments between the father and the son that hold the entire film together. I thoroughly appreciated the role reversal with Siddhartha (the son) scolding Govindu (the father) about his drinking and fighting. Also loved the idea of the son forcing his father into marriage. It's just such a pleasant change every once in a while to see the elders be irresponsible and rash and loud, while the youngsters are calm, focused and wise. Not to mention how lovely it is to see Chiranjeevi in a double role where he owns both sides of screen with equal skill.

Unfortunately, there's also: the plague! For all the comedy dudes in this film, this screencap says it all. Yes, you too Brahmi!

The truth is, there will always be something that annoys me in Chiru's movies, be it the comedy side-plots in the newer films, or the quality of the DVD and the lack of subtitles in the older ones. And I do worry about how drinking problems are dealt with in Indian films. But if I'm celebrating something this week it's the fact that he always puts a smile on my face the old boy! And that certainly deserves a few moustache twirls! Or at the very least a popped collar.

Mumaith Khan in Punnami Nagu - See, but Don't Watch!

2011-08-09T19:10:00.000-07:00

Interrupting my blog vacation for Dustdevil's Nag Panchami Festival, a celebration of snake movies across Indian film industries.

Until very recently I had only seen one snake movie and a very atypical one at that: Deepa Mehta's Heaven on Earth. Since I have no love for either Deepa or that particular film, it did not make it on my list to review. Which left me with... Mumaith Khan's Punnami Nagu! Just as well. It had been sitting on my shelf for far too long.

Sadly, as life sometimes conspires to prove you right, it turned out I really should have listened to my instinct and left it on that shelf. I always said I stay away from reviewing bad movies on this blog because I like to stay positive and show the things that make me love Indian movies rather than the garbage. And this is not even so bad it's good, it's just plain old BAD. Just to give you an idea we have:

- a father who puts a surveillance camera on his 18 year old daughter's belt and lets her go into the lion's den to... presumably spy, but really to dance.

- a side plot (probably sold as a comedy plot but as usual I failed to see the comedy) about this guy trying to basically sell his niece to some rich guy

- these three jokes of nature who pretty much spend all their time screaming, overacting and clowning around, again, with no actual comedy resulting from it.

- this evil witch who wants to rule the world... or something... after she comes to possess the two snake stones from the divine couple sent to save the earth (of course I'm not kidding! Would I do that to you?)

- this funky looking witch dude, I forget what he's there to do, some additional villainry, for sure!

- this other sideplot about the bad guys breaking into a college and blackmailing the principal with some footage of her in less than decent clothing. But get this, they make her arrange for dates with the girls in the college, so they can take their tops off and see if they had a snake tattoo. Don't even get me started with just how many things are wrong with this entire plot device, though I was actually grateful none of it led to rape. It's the little things in life, you know...

- and yes, the gods in heaven trying to prevent the destruction of the human race!

So let me make this clear, this is not a review. Nor is it an invitation to watch this garbage. This is, in fact, a note to tell you to stay away from this terrible movie with no beginning and no end (actually, it has a beginning and an end, but not much in between), and instead to rejoice in the best parts of it which I tried to capture in this post: Mumaith Khan at her sexiest best! She is, let me assure you once again, the only reason why this post even exists: there can never be too many screencaps of this gorgeous woman. What can I say? I love her!

Short hair, isn't she cute as a button?

Awesome abs!

Giving Megan Fox a run for her money

Yellow helmets never looked happier

I just kinda liked this set-up

Short hair again FTW

Glam! And glitter!

And she moves like a snake alright!

Yeah, the subtitle says it all!

Plus, she totally kicks ass!

And she turns into a snake to avenge her soulmate

Hilarious photoshop job!

But it does look pretty damn cool...

So puuurdy!

In full seduction mode

Playing with the prey

If looks could kill...

Snake woman

And the snake dance that defeats evil. No really, I swear, it's the sheer power of her dancing.

So... yeah... this just about wraps it up for my entry for Nag Panchami. Enjoy the picspam, watch the songs if you can (I have yet to find a better dancer than Mumaith, Shriya Saran is the only one that comes close), enjoy some short and very random Chiranjeevi footage, and please, stay away from this DVD!

4 Karats in Silver: Shor in the City

2011-07-16T08:07:00.000-07:00

I used to be a big fan of the TV show Heroes... aaaand had a huge crush on Sendhil Ramamurthy. What? Didn't everyone? Well, until he started getting the plague or something and then I couldn't look at him anymore. But that's beside the point.

At any rate, just wanted to state how happy I was to find that he was acting in a Hindi film, and as if that were not enough to get me to watch it (trust me, it was!), a film made by the same team who gave us the awesomeness that was "99" (Krishna DK and Raj Nidimoru). Of course, it didn't actually get an international release, so I had to wait for the DVD which luckily did not take long (even if that means that it didn't do all that well in theatres). So now I am on a mission to get everyone to watch it!

Shor is divided into 3 tracks that criss-cross at different points in the film, each track inspired by stories that made the news in the past decade. On the one hand we have the small-time crooks Tilak (Tusshar Kapoor), Mandook (Pitobash) and Ramesh (Nikhil Dwivedi) who make a living by selling whatever they can steal from crowded buses. They also have a side printing business, selling books (some unreleased) at traffic lights.

The second track is Abhay (Sendhil Ramamurthy) as the NRI returning to India (after what we are lead to believe was not a rosy past in the US) to set up a business. Easier said than done because the street mafia is there to make money on his every move.

Finally I discovered with great joy that the third track belongs to Sundeep Kishan, an actor I had already loved in Prasthanam. He plays Sawan, a young man trying to make it into the junior cricket team across layers and layers of corruption.

Holding on to his girlfriend turns out to be the other major headache in his life.

By the way, just a quick pit-stop on the art direction front, how hilarious is this shot? Love it!

There are some moral issues with the story that I think are dealt with a little too lightly. I kept comparing Shor with 99 just because it's made by the same guys, but 99 never leaves its zone of goofy, harmless fun which makes its comedy perfectly adequate. In Shor on the other hand, the issues at hand are much heavier, which in my opinion required they be treated a tad more seriously. Just an example: a kid running with a bomb about to detonate in his hand - NOT funny. Sorry, but no. In any universe. As a matter of fact neither is playing with guns. Also, Abhay's solution to his problems is hardly acceptable for a hero, but then I don't think he was meant as a hero to begin with, so that one I can't object too much to.

Despite being disappointed by the general direction of the morals of the film (that direction being nowhere), I still loved it. Not because it's funny (99 is much funnier), and not because it creates some lasting characters. I loved it because it creates little pockets of magic that are absolutely unforgettable. The relationship between Tilak and his new wife is one of the major highlights for me, and all their little moments make a lasting impression, whether it's their coy attempts at consummating their marriage, or Tilak proudly showing off to his (college graduate) wife the traffic signal where his printing business comes to fruition, every single moment they spend on screen is so heavy with sweetness that it's hard to even think of them as part of the same film.

I found the references to Paulo Coelho's "Alchemist" hilarious (a book that everyone, myself included, loved in high school, but then most of us got over it). Whether this was the way I wanted to see it or the movie meant it that way, every single reference to "the philosophy" of The Alchemist suggested that this book is considered philosophy mostly by people who lack education, or by people who haven't read any better. Even the fact that the only educated character in the film had loved it in high school is a backhanded compliment. The snob in me was enjoying this way more than it would be polite. Though in the end, I must bow to its power to make people think positively about their lives and to steer them in the right direction, so credit where it's due, it was well used in the film.

Other pockets of brilliance are the glimpses of what shapes up to be the backstage of the spectacle that is Mumbai: people who get paid to organize rallies and riots, people who get paid to "make the right choice" for the cricket team, people who ask for bribes at every street corner. You could say it's a movie about corruption, except it's not, because corruption is such a fact of life that it never quite rises up to the level where it becomes its own entity in the story. It's just there, in the background of every event, you know about it, and you move on. I've seen the same type of subtlety before in Dhobi Ghat, in reference to poverty, and I always appreciate this matter-of-fact treatment of certain themes.

To top it all off, these little pockets of brilliance are brought to life by some wonderful performances from everyone involved, from the smallest goonda to the blink-and-you'll-miss-them secondary characters like Sejal's mother or Sawan's sister, or even Sejal herself.

I have seen Sundeep Kishan only in 2 movies so far but he's quickly becoming a favourite, so I was following his story with a lot of interest. Also notable because he's the only character whom you want to see being good, maybe because of his age, or maybe because of his predicament, but he was the only one I kept hoping would rise above the muck. His little moments with his sister and his brother in law, his fights with the stressed girlfriend, Sundeep lends this character such tenderness and vulnerability that you can't help but care for him in a way that you don't for everyone else, Sendhil's shirtless scene notwithstanding.

While we're talking about Sundeep, I'll take a few seconds to whine about garbage subtitles because they failed to translate one of the cutest lines he says:

What he's actually saying is: "Have I been speaking Telugu until now?" Get it? Telugu? *snort snort*

The first time I watched Shor I thought Sendhil didn't quite come through in terms of acting, but on the second watch I came to appreciate his understated style. Guess that's one of the dangers of mixing Western actors with Indian ones, their styles don't always match perfectly. But after adjusting my lens for the differences, I have to say he kind of rocks. Watch him try to speak Hindi and always end up blowing up in English. Watch his little smiles when he picks up on the innuendos and he learns to read between the lines. And then watch him be all badass! Enough said.

Oh come on! Don`t act like this was not done for precise purposes of screencapping!

I am convinced that the reason why the characters in Shor don't stay with you as much as the ones in 99 is precisely because they succeed so well at portraying real life people, the people you could meet every day and promptly forget, the people who only become memorable when something happens and they end up in the news or even worse, as statistics. Nobody is poorer than poor and nobody is richer than rich. Nobody stands out for extraordinary qualities or even for extreme villainy. It's not that they have no personality, because they do, it's just that in the end, they disappear in the crowd like you would expect them to with no major consequences for anyone. Every character in the film is just another building block of the maze that is the city of Mumbai, each trying to get ahead, each trying to make something of his life. The right way or the wrong way.

Don't watch Shor in the City expecting another 99. Don't watch it for a great uplifting moralizing story. Don't even watch it for a story that has its heart in the right place (the tag line of the soundtrack gives that one away: "Be Bad or Be Dead"). Watch it for the little moments of brilliance. Watch it for the rawness of the forces that run each character's life. Watch it for the fantastic direction. Watch it for the sincerity of the relationships. And for Saibo. Twice for Saibo.

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara Review

2011-07-15T21:13:00.000-07:00

Ay, mi vida, que has hecho?? What have you done to me, Zoya? How am I supposed to write a review for a movie that has left me so conflicted? And it's not the usual conflict where Dolce takes one side and Namak takes the other, because for this one they agree completely on everything that is bad and on everything that is good.

Namak: For example the ridiculous "seize the day, no regrets" philosophy?

Dolce: Well, on that one, I do kind of get it. People were not appreciative of Zoya's subtlety in the brilliant Luck by Chance, so perhaps she felt that something more in your face was needed. Judging by the reactions on twitter, we could say that gamble paid off.

Namak: Maybe, but that's only because the people who were "meh" about the movie to begin with (and there are unfortunately a lot of those) just went to see Harry Potter instead and will catch this one later if the word of mouth is good.

Dolce: You may be right about that, sure, but remember how many other works of art that advocate this type of chain-email philosophy have succeeded. A lot!

Namak: Point taken. People sure seem to like being told that it's ok, in fact it's recommended, to be a bohemian who has no job, no worries and no regrets.

Dolce: Except they only like to hear it, no one actually does it.

Namak: But that's just the point. It's a movie, it doesn't have to be realistic. As long as people will enjoy listening to that message, you're guaranteed a successful movie. Who cares if anyone actually learns something from it. It's like a chain-email: everyone will smile at it, promise themselves to get more out of life every day, forward it, and then go about their usual business.

Dolce: Are you saying Zoya's movie is like a chain-email?

Namak: No. Not at all. Just this part of the story.

We do all agree that this part of the message was quite heavy handed in the film, which is something I was not expecting from Zoya Akhtar, the woman who made us rethink everything we thought we knew about the film industry and the people in it with her first film. It's nice to have a free-spirited character like Laila, effortlessly played by Katrina Kaif, but to have a stuck-up materialistic dude like Arjun (Hrithik Roshan) turn around 180 degrees and embrace that philosophy in a week is a little much.

I mean, THIS is the guy we're talking about:

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara has confirmed the two things I said I was afraid of when I saw the first trailer: that Kalki's character will be a uni-dimensional controlling wife-to-be who will not let her husband out of her sight, and that it will fall for that silly stereotype that a trip to Europe can change someone's personality. Ugh! So there goes that. Out of the three stories, only Farhan's arc warrants a major shift in zindagi outlook after this trip.

Namak: And yet... I wasn't bored.

Dolce: Nope, not for a second.

Namak: Even when I was rolling my eyes.

Dolce: Which apart from those two things we didn't roll them all that much.

Namak: Oh yes we did: hello stereotypical ~~slutty~~ Spanish girl!

Dolce: Oh, right, yes, the chaste Laila doesn't even concede a kiss after 4 days together, while Nuria jumps into bed the first night.

Namak: Heh... it is after all, Farhan Akhtar's bed.

Dolce: Dude, I'm the fangirl here!

Namak: Pfff! So what? Does that mean I can't show my appreciation too?

Farhan Akhtar, it should be said loud and clear, owns this movie. It's not just that he's given the best lines, but he acts with such panache, such intelligence and such style that it's hard to resist him, even when Imran spends more than half of the film being a complete jerk. Then again, how does one not melt for Imran, jerk as he may be, when he's practically making love to a convertible car through the window of the dealership? Or when he's dancing to Senorita? No really: how?

Truth be told, it's really hard to say which one is the bigger jerk: Imran (Farhan Akhtar) or Arjun (Hrithik Roshan). And the subtlety that we have loved Zoya for in Luck By Chance shows here in not making either of them completely right or completely lovable. You always end up conflicted about which one of them should win the argument. And THAT is what I love Zoya for! The fact that the materialistic Arjun is also always the one who tries to solve conflicts, whether it's by talking to Kabir about his relationship or just motioning him to leave the room. The fact that Imran is a brainless joker by day and an insightful poet by night. These are the things that I appreciate from a good writer, these are the things that make a character last for me.

While on the topic of characters, the other reason why I can't rave enough about Zoya is that she basically took my group of friends and our conversations on late weekend nights and put them in a movie. There's a scene where Arjun is drunk and he goes on and on and on about how everything is written in our destiny, and I laughed wholeheartedly because I have lived that conversation so many times! Sure these guys are immature, sure they have issues, sure they say and do things that are hurtful, but you know, that's what people do. And there is no growing up or out of it, regardless of the age, some people will still play stupid pranks, and others will still be hurt by them. And no one will learn. That's life, that's our generation, that's just who we are. And if there are ladies and gentlemen out there who don't care to watch a movie about this type of people, I guess they're better off not watching this one.

Dolce: Except we're not controlling fiances.

Namak: Well, we're not. But that doesn't mean others aren't.

Dolce: Hm... Point. Still, Natasha (Kalki Koechlin) was by far the weakest character in terms of writing. She's not even given a chance to redeem herself, not a single one. She's painted black right from the beginning and doesn't shake the image of the witch until the last song of the film.

Namak: Ya, that's truly sad. I did not expect such a uni-dimensional character. Not in this film.

Right, moving along, I really need to get over that or my love for the Akhtar twins just might fade after this humongous faux-pas.

Other highlights then? The cinematography! Every single review I read so far has raved about it, so I won't repeat the praises, but really worth seeing this one in the theatre just for that! Stupendous looking film! Great use of sound too, not just visuals. That heartbeat that marked each of the risky sports was only one of the many moments of brilliance, but there were many.

Overall, after this one we can safely say that Zoya is one of the most talented storytellers in Bollywood right now. The way the stories unfold and the way the details are connected is another reason why I will not stop raving about ZNMD for a while. Even details that you think you know... turn out to be something else altogether and everything comes out just at the right time. The main reason why I was glued to my seat the whole time was not as much to see where the story was going (which is easy to guess on most counts), but to find out where the story was coming from. And this is where a talented director and storyteller really shines. Sure, she may have fallen into traps and cliches this time around, but even while doing so she never let your eyes wander away from the screen. At least not mine.

I haven't said much about Kabir's story (Abhay Deol). And well, that's because it's pretty much all about the relationship with his fiance, so the less I talk about that the better. He won my heart in the first half of the film by being the only sensible man between the other two "bwoys" and then hung me out to dry in the second.

What a perfect role for Abhay Deol! And as usual, he makes the most of it with subtlety and just the right amount of emotion.

Because in the end it does come down to the actors and what they make of the script for me. I would go watch this movie again just for that, to relive all the little moments between the guys, to see their faces light up or smirk in contempt, to see them piss each other off with wine and then make peace over shots, to see them trying hard not to laugh, and always failing. Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara is not a movie that has taught me anything about life. But it's a movie that has a lot of life in it. Real - sometimes cliche, sometimes surprising, but always entertaining - life.

Raj Kapoor and the Golden Age of Indian Cinema - Part 1

2011-07-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

The IIFAs came and went from Toronto without any visible traces. Truth be told, we were not expecting people to start flocking to the theatres to watch Bollywood movies, and we were not expecting to see some major shift in people's opinions of the industry either. No. Not really. Any effect that this extravaganza will have will not be quantifiable, though who knows, maybe we'll see some changes in the audience mix at TIFF this year.

But one thing that IIFA did leave behind was an initiative of the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF): Raj Kapoor and The Golden Age of Indian Cinema, a showcase meant to highlight the influence that the Kapoor family, whether as actors, directors or producers have had in Indian cinema. Granted, a couple of films have been added to the programme without really being connected to any of the Kapoors, but for the most part it's a Kapoor Khazana special! And what better time for it than during Kapoor Khazana, which, if you have forgotten, is a 2-month event hosted by www.totallyfilmi.com. All the links for posts so far can be found here.

Now I'm not a big fan of oldies, what with my severe case of melodrama allergy, so it's fair to ask: why am I even getting excited about a bunch of oldies being shown in a theatre? Well for starters because it's not just any theatre. This, my friends, is the house that TIFF built, commonly known as the Lightbox. It's not just a theatre, it's an experience in architectural revelry! So that definitely counts as a good reason to go.

But more importantly, how often does one get a chance, in a country other than India, to see a Mughal-e-Azam or a Shakespeare Wallah on the big screen? Even for movies I knew I wouldn't like (and my apologies to the people sitting close to me for constantly snorting and snickering during the overacted emotional scenes), I knew I could not pass on the experience of seeing them in the environment that they were made for: a theatre with a silver screen. And who knows, some might even appeal to me the second time around because it's a proven fact that the big screen makes everything better: the songs are better, the actors are prettier, the decor is more impressive, plus everything is... well... bigger. And lest we forget, Shashi Kapoor is definitely handsomer.

No really, so much handsomer on the big screen!

Now that everyone is clear on that last point, let me tell you about the movies I have seen so far. And a reminder that this goes on through July and half of August, so if you have any business in Toronto, don't forget to check it out.

:: Barsaat ::

Barsaat was one big revelation to me, and I may buy this movie just because of that. I had seen 2 or 3 Raj Kapoor movies before (on DVD) and well, I thought he was a good actor and all that but I was never bowled over and running back to the rental website to fill up my basket with more movies from him. I did love Teesri Kasam, I loved it, for sure, but I suspect it was more because of Waheeda Rehman than because of good old Raj. Well... Barsaat changed all that. I could not take my eyes off him. In fact, I was a little upset that there was so much screen time given to the other couple because honestly I just wanted to see Raj Kapoor and to hell with everything else. Yes, that was a huge shocker for me, and I will understand if no one can relate.

Barsaat is the story of two young men: Pran (Raj Kapoor) a poet / musician who believes anyone who loves with a true heart should be loved in return, and his philandering friend, Gopal (Prem Nath). As expected, Gopal only needs women as a plaything and rejects the idea of true love as the delirious invention of a poet's mind. Sure enough, there is a pure hearted girl in some village in the countryside, Neela (Nimmi) who is madly in love with Gopal and is convinced that he will come back to her. I confess, most of my eyerolls were dedicated to her, since she was by far the most drama-infused character in the story. Not that other characters don't suffer tragically as the movie progresses, but this poor girl spends all her time pining and forgetting to breathe, if I didn't find it so funny, I would have felt really bad for her.

A small sample in this song. which by the way, is the original I Hate Luv Storys title song!

Raj Kapoor is paired up with his legendary leading lady, Nargis. Now I confess I never quite got the "beauty" of Nargis, but I suppose that's not really important, what's important is that in this particular movie I could not get over her sniffling. I suppose it's a way of making the character cute and um... more country girl? But it made no sense to me. She is cute. And clueless. I guess in a modern film she'd be ditsy. But cute.

Anyway... The drama of the story is that Reshma finds out her father had fixed her marriage for fear of the traveler (Pran) turning out to be just another Bombay playboy. In the swirl of emotions following this conversation, her father tries to kill Reshma who is swimming across the river to get to Pran. As any respectable father would.

On the other far less interesting side of the story, Neela has damaged her lungs so much from all that pining and breath holding that she is about to die without Gopal. Just kidding. Well, not really. She is pretty much dying from pining, no other visible reason. Oh and she disappears in the second half almost until the end.

So why would I put Barsaat in my basket as soon as I got home that day? Well for one because I got the length of the movie wrong and had plans for immediately after so I had to leave at intermission. But really that's not it. The real reason was this is the first (and so far only) movie where I found Raj Kapoor unbelievably attractive. He's cute and adorable and such a joy to watch that I couldn't let this movie go into oblivion like the rest of them. The songs of course, were the second reason, and the art direction, a close third.

I dare anyone to make a shot as dramatic as this one in colour!

Gosh, almost like a Picasso painting!

If you can handle your melodrama better than me (which I suspect most people can), this might be a good one to catch for a different taste of Raj Kapoor when he actually smiles and is playful rather than tormented or silly.

Yes, I admit, this was my favourite scene!

Well, at least in the first half he looks happy. Also, watch it if you like your Waves of the Danube, it gets a LOT of ear time!

All that said, if I see one more woman throwing herself at the feet of one more man, I may just scream right in the middle of the theatre! Oh well... At least Barsaat had this little moment to make up for it.

:: Shakespeare Wallah ::

Now this is a movie I had been searching for for at least 2 years. I'm not very sure why I was searching for it, but I was damn certain I would love it. So the skies just opened up and a choir of putti started singing when my Canada Day weekend plans fell through and I found myself in the city with nothing but time between me and Shakespeare Wallah. Did it meet all my expectations? Was it worth spending a long weekend in the city for it? Yes and YES!

Sanju (Shashi Kapoor) is a handsome playboy from Bombay, who meets and woos an English actress, Lizzie, traveling with her family, staging Shakespeare plays across the country. Meanwhile he has a long standing relationship with a local film actress, Manjula. Shashi plays both heroines with such devilish charm that for a while I could not tell for sure if he was even involved with the film actress. I guess I'd be a sucker for his sweet words if I were the English girl, who in fact, turns out to be much smarter and much stronger than we initially give her credit for. I'm not surprised this movie needed a white actress because no proper Hindustani maiden would have been accepted in that role. Well, not unless she killed herself, died or was otherwise prevented from leading a decent life at the end of the film. Also, I can't think of one who would have done justice to the role either.

A short but sweet movie, Shakespeare Wallah talks among other things about the nadir of British influenced culture, pitching Shakespeare against Bollywood films. But the main theme of the film is change. The times were changing, people's lives were changing, societal norms were changing, and all these changes are subtly captured by a family who is neither from here nor from there, a family of British actors that have been in India for so long that they call it home, but they still can't let go completely of their past on another continent. The head of the family, Mr. Buckingham (Geoffrey Kendall) is the one we see most often voicing his concerns about this brave and young new world taking over, while his wife is usually the sounding board that reflects everything back after straining it through the concern for her daughter (whom she wants to send to England) and mixing it with a healthy dose of optimism.

Shakespeare Wallah is a fascinating watch as a social fresco, but that implies of course, that one can take their eyes off the mesmerizing Shashi Kapoor. Not easy, let me tell you, not easy. Nonetheless, if you do manage, you will find a strong female character that is willing to give up anything for love but will not be weighed down by its absence. Needless to say she was my favourite part of the film. The parents, struggling to keep their ideals alive while their post-colonial world is crumbling around them, were another highlight. But the most important highlight for me was the lack of weepy melodrama and weak characters. Everyone in this movie knows what they want and even in situations where they are helpless, there is no majboori-ness in sight.

One of the best movies I have seen lately, and definitely my favourite oldie so far.

:: Aag ::

Yes, it is dubbed Aaaaaaaag for a reason! And that reason is you will want to scream at the screen at least every ten minutes. Unless you're in a theatre full of people where you must limit your reactions to giggles, eye-rolls and frequent washroom and Twitter breaks.

No, that wasn't me I swear!

Ok... it was me.

This movie is so over the top in its emotions, that Greek tragedy as a genre pales in comparison. Never before has choosing a career been such a life and death issue. And never before has a man been so obstinately determined to find a muse and fulfil his childhood dream as Kewal is (Raj Kapoor). One thing this movie would never run out of is pathos.

I mean just look at the poster!

Also, apparently, they will never run out of Nimmis, there's a new one at every corner.

Jokes aside (though you can tell that was pretty much a summary of the experience the person next to me had while trying to watch the movie), there is a very interesting theme that Aag brings up, and with a better treatment this theme could have turned the film into a favourite of mine. We're not just seeing the misunderstood artist, or the Galatea who cannot live up to the expectations of her Pygmalion, or the artist's search for truth. We're seeing a clash between different visions on art and its meaning.

We don't get to debate whether physical beauty is more powerful than the beauty of one's soul, instead we are asked to reflect on the true origin of art: is it one with Truth or is it one with Beauty? As Kewal keeps searching for that fountain of truth inside Nimmi's soul, we realize that we cannot be sure how much truth there is inside his own soul, and whether or not it's his own truth that he hopes to uncover inside her. His constant search for the muse of his childhood and his impotence in fulfilling his only dream present him as an incomplete artist, one who perhaps will never find his own soul and his true inspiration. Or if he does, will it be too late? Is burning the outer shell and bearing one's soul really the only way to be a complete artist? Or is the need for compromise and empathy a sine qua non condition for finding your truth in this imperfect world? The last scene will give us a hint.

Interestingly the one accomplished artist of the film is ridiculed by Kewal, however, he is the one who empowers the young man to fulfil his dream of putting a play on stage. He is after all the only one to come out victorious. Perhaps a little moment of reflection on the always underappreciated patrons of arts? Or a bone thrown to the dogs?

With a somewhat predictable and yet somewhat open ending, the film doesn't answer any of these questions. I didn't want it to either. But I did want to be able to reflect upon the philosophy behind it without cringing and laughing at the memory of Nargis, hand to forehead, a vision of artificial tragedy that will probably haunt me until the end of my days.

Nonetheless, my $12 were once again well spent on seeing a very young and very talented Shashi Kapoor playing the role of young Kewal, and also by the exquisite art direction. When they say they don't make them like they used to, Aag is a good example, for better AND worse.

:: Mughal-e-Azam ::

What a difference the big screen makes! I didn't care much for Mughal-e-Azam when I rented the colourized version and watched it, except for the fabulous songs. But what I didn't know then was that you need a big screen to realize the sheer opulence of this movie, to see just how epic every single frame in it is. And epic is a word I used a lot after this screening and will probably always use going forward whenever Mughal-e-Azam is discussed.

It's not only the movie that needed the big screen, the legendary Madhubala also needed it to prove to me why so many consider her beauty breathtaking. I didn't think much of her before, but she really is beautiful beyond words on the big screen, the lady was made for black and white and for the silver screen, there is no doubt in my mind about that now.

Mughal-e-Azam in short, is the story of Akbar the Great's heir falling in love with a court dancer. Akbar opposes, naturally, which only strengthens the youngsters' resolve to see their love triumph. A classic conflict between the old order and the new, between love and duty, between parents and lovers, between mind and heart. And if you think this plot doesn't warrant a 3.5 hour extravaganza, watch this one to be proved wrong.

When I decided to go see this at the Lightbox I said I was only going for the songs. And while I came out of it with so many other magnificent moments to remember, I have to say the fact that I saw Teri Mehfil Mein on the big screen is still, by far, the highlight of my entire Lightbox experience (sorry Shashi, you're second). Everything about this song from the lyrics to the vocals to the music to the camerawork to the expressions of the singers is sheer perfection. I have yet to see another that challenges its status in my heart.
I can't find a video to embed in black and white so follow the link above, or watch below in colour.

Apart from the opulence of the visuals in general, there are little moments of brilliant camerawork that will stay with you even when the glitter of the palace halls has worn out: Madhubala's face lit by a single candle, the twinkle in her eyes that will soon become a tear while another is already slithering its way down her cheek, these are the moments that celebrate black and white films in a way that colour can only aspire to.

Not even the plot bothered me as much as the first time, proof that either the big screen, or the black and white, or a second viewing does improve this one (not sure which of the three, could be all of them). It's still over the top like nothing else, but somewhere in the middle of the amazing songs and in between gasps at the brilliant use of lighting, I even forgot to snicker a few times. What an experience this movie is. No wonder it was unsurpassed for years and years, it's sheer awe to watch it in all its glory.

And now what you ask? Now I have commitments that prevent me from catching a lot of other gems that are scheduled during this event, but I do have plans to see at least another 3, so look out for Part 2 of this post in August. Unless they're all really really bad, in which case... well, I'll spare everyone the eyerolls.

Delhi Belly Review/ Rave/ Rant/ Rumination

2011-07-06T13:05:00.000-07:00

Delhi Belly is a movie about 3 roommates who end up at the mercy of the local goonda when a shipment of diamonds gets mixed up for a stool sample. With a little help from Lady Bad Luck, a lot of madness and a race against time ensue. With a plot as thin as this, it can be crazy fun, or you can be bored silly. But you have to make it to the theatre first in order to know the answer. So the first question is: how do you make people interested in a plot like this to begin with?

Here's the thing with marketing: unless it's for a product that is ridiculously costly and therefore cognitive dissonance kicks in to justify why you made the expense (cough Apple cough), marketing does not work beyond the true value of the product. At least that's what I like to believe. So marketing a film like Delhi Belly aggressively, which God knows is exactly what we have seen for the past couple of months, can only guarantee that a large amount of arses will be in those theatre seats. Nothing beyond that. It's the quality of the movie during the next 90 minutes that will bring those same arses back, or their friends' arses. Marketing won't do that. A bad film is a bad film is a bad film and no amount of buzz and promos will turn it into a good one. Look at Tees Maar Khan!... Yeah. I rest my case.

On the other hand, lack of good marketing can, and usually does, lead to a good product not succeeding because no one knows about it. And I have way too many film examples for that, I'm sure everyone does.

The fact is Aamir Khan Productions has long been known to have one of the best marketing departments in Bollywood, if not the best. And I know better than to congratulate Aamir Khan for it because he may be one of the brains, but this takes the efforts of a whole team and I think they all deserve equal praise for it. Let me make it clear that I count as marketing everything from various publicity stunts such as "looking for an item girl" for an item number that had already been shot long ago, to promos filled with swearwords, and even to the infamous DK Bose song. It's all marketing, and it's all aimed at getting those arses in those seats.

But much like "the body", the big marketing point of the Ghajini campaign, "the toilet humour" is given way more space in the promotional material (and certainly in reviews) than it actually has in the movie. And in both cases I can only add THANKFULLY at the end of that statement. Maybe because I had read plenty of spoilers about it but I knew every single gross moment before I even walked into the theatre, which helped a lot for me since I am quite squeamish about toilet humour. So you know, I do recommend you do the same if you're anything like me. Though in all fairness I have seen so much worse in more "harmless" Hollywood "comedies", so looking away during a couple of key moments was all it took.

On the other hand, hard language and sex humour don't bother me at all, so I needed no warnings for those, even though there have been many reviews outraged by them. There are two moments of situational comedy that are related to sex, and while I didn't laugh at them, I also didn't find them offensive in any way. Not to offend anyone but I think you'd have to be pretty narrow minded (and if you're a guy I pity your girlfriend) to not find those two situations relatable, even if the aftermath may have never actually happened to you. That's all I have to say about that, everyone has their own opinion I'm sure, and I have no intention of changing anyone's.

All in all, I wanted to take the first half of my Delhi Belly review to congratulate the people who made this marketing campaign happen because it's been a brilliant roller coaster ride. I may not have agreed with parts of it, and I'm sure everyone had their own eye-rolling moments before the movie opened, but at the end of the day this team did what it set out to do: get those box office wickets ringing. Past that, it's the job of the director, the actors, the script-writer and rest of the film crew to live up to the buzz.

So the second half of my review is here to tell you that yes, they did just that. Beyond the upset stomach sound bites and the insalubrious visuals (have I ever mentioned I HATE cockroaches, and especially close-ups of them??), there is a very funny script by Akshat Verma that makes the trip to the theatre worth one's while. I wish I had managed to remember all the one-liners and all the creative cusses (right now I can only recall a certain pair of earrings threatening to be made out of someone's... well, just figure out what's round and comes in pairs on the male body), but that's fine, I plan to go back to the theatre to revisit them. There are no long monologues, there are no scenes of teary explanations, in fact I doubt any of the lines took longer than 2 rows to get written; this script is snappy, fast and to the point. It works because of that. No wait, not just because of that.

For a script as sharp as this one, you need actors with instinctive comedic timing, it's not something you can just edit. Thankfully, Imran Khan, Vir Das, Kunal Roy Kapoor, Vijay Raaz and Poorna Jagannathan have all got it. I knew Vijay Raaz was a hoot from his Monsoon Wedding days, and I had seen glimpses of Imran and Vir's natural talent for comedy in I Hate Love Stories and Badmaash Company respectively, but Poorna was a revelation for me. She seemed so comfortable in the comedy scenes (and not to mention that mad chemistry with Imran) that I almost cried when I read that she's an LA based actress because I really want her back to stay in Bollywood.

Actually, comfortable is the key word for the whole cast: everyone seemed to have been born in their role, from the over-eager parents, to the idiotic gangsters, to the mousy landlord, to the kathak teachers.

Aiming for that comfort is the greatest gamble a film like this takes: one contrived performance, one over the top reaction, one line out of place and you have ruined the mad pace of a whole sequence. But hard as I try, I can't remember that happening at any point. Ok, maybe the two old white people, but they're only in the movie for 5 seconds.

The other reason why I found this film so engaging and so hilarious is there's a lot happening visually. Half of what happens has no words attached and none are needed. Facial expressions (and thankfully all these actors are great with their faces even when hidden by heavy layers of fabric, bruises or hair), chain reactions, little ironies of life (the doll going back onto the shelf of heirlooms being one of my favourites), all priceless moments that add up to a sumptuous visual treat. Abhinay Deo has really outdone himself on the direction in this one.

The music by Ram Sampath, it should also be said, is well suited for the film, even if to my great disappointment the picturization of Nakkaddwaley Disco, Udhaarwaley Khisko was not featured anywhere, and even the song was only featured in sound bites.

Sure, I Hate You (Like I Love You), in brackets, made up for that loss in parts, but I am still a little bitter about it. Most of the songs didn't have a full-on picturization, but they wouldn't have fit with the story either, so that was a good decision. It's one of those movies.

Delhi Belly is not ground-breaking, though I understand that lip service must be paid in a world where news of Akshay Kumar filming in Antarctica for Houseful 2 is presented as "never before done in Indian cinema". If there is anything about Delhi Belly that truly has earned this quantifier it's the marketing campaign.

In terms of the topics approached in the film, I would not say that they are intrinsically ground-breaking, however, the ease with which the movie flows through them is something I have never seen before. It's not that we haven't seen swearwords in a movie before, and hardcore ones at that, but we hardly ever see them so seamlessly integrated in everyone's speech (take No One Killed Jessica as an example of how *not* to do it). It's not that we haven't seen erection bumps or talk about lesbians before in Indian films, but I'd be hard pressed to find a movie where it's been done so casually, with such a matter-of-fact attitude. When other films are still struggling with kissing, it is actually pretty impressive to see a movie that treats adult content maturely. It may sound like an oxymoron, because sex humour as well as toilet humour are both considered juvenile (even by me most of the times), but that's I suppose exactly where this movie exceeds all expectations, in making the statement that: it's not such a big deal!

I decided at the beginning of this review to not go all fangirly about Imran Khan and how this movie has only reinforced my adoration for him (and trust me it's really hard to stick to that resolution), so I will end with a note on the infamous item number by none other than Aamir Khan. If Shah Rukh has always wanted to do a superhero movie, we can safely say that this item number is one of those things that Aamir Khan has always secretly wanted to do. I can't even recall the last time I saw someone having so much ridiculous fun! I was tempted to cover my eyes a few times while watching "I Hate You (Like I Love You)" not because it was ridiculous (which of course it was), but because I almost felt like I was invading Aamir Khan's privacy. He was enjoying this number so much it really seemed like it should be illegal, or at the very least behind closed doors.

Of course it would be in really bad taste to end this with a cheese rating, as much as I miss doing those, so I'll skip that and just say: ignore the shit, throw all your expectations out the window, and just see the movie. You'll probably find it worth your while. I didn't think I would myself, but here I am writing a rave review about it. Go figure!

Bollywood Hollywood and Beyond

2011-07-03T09:29:00.000-07:00

Whew... A bit of a delay with this post, and probably not much relevant anymore but since I wrote half of it, well maybe it will still hold some meaning for posterity: some of my thoughts about the "Bollywood, Hollywood and Beyond" panel that kick-started IIFA week in Toronto recently. The guests were (in alphabetical order): Javed Akhtar, Shabana Azmi, Kabir Bedi, Lisa Ray, Ajay Virmani.

The panel was paired up with the Cinema Showcards Exhibition displayed at the Royal Ontario Museum through October, an exhibition that made me gasp in awe more than once (Whoa! They glued the photograph of the actress on the poster and then painted accents over it?? This is amazing!).

But back to the panel. The five speakers talked about their individual experiences with Bollywood and how movies are made there while trying to compare it to the best of their knowledge with other film industries. Kabir Bedi seemed the most knnowledgeable about Hollywood, while of course Javed and Shabana talked mostly about Bollywood. I'd put both Lisa Ray and Ajay Virmani in the "beyond" category as their experience lies mostly in Canadian films (even if filmed in India).

A lot of the talk as expected was about how Bollywood is changing and has been changing lately, be it in controversial areas such as copyright issues, or script writing (Kabir Bedi expressed his longing for writers like Javed Akhtar from the good old days), or simply in topics chosen for film making these days. Javed Akhtar was of course a gentleman and never once mentioned his two brilliant offsprings, Zoya and Farhan Akhtar, who are undoubtedly making their script-writing father proud, but sometimes I wanted to jump up and mention them, because while it's true that there are many inane scripts today in Bollywood, it's also true that there are some really good writers out there as well. So I will politely disagree with Kabir Bedi's lamentation that "they don't make them like they used to".

Also on the topic of the changes in Bollywood, Shabana made a fair point about seeing more and more working women in movies nowadays and congratulated Band Baaja Baaraat for their take on this underrepresented reality in today's Indian society. Independent career women have indeed been one of the most interesting developments in Indian films lately. She also spoke beautifully later on about female characters becoming more self-asserted and ideologies like "Main Chup Rahungi" (I will remain quiet) being left far behind. Coming from someone who has always been praised and idolized for her unconventional powerful women roles, this is indeed a great compliment to today's Bollywood.

Javed Akhtar in turn, being the joker that he usually is, counter-argued that the hero never does anything in Bollywood movies either. He had the audience laughing, of course, but I think the point made its way through regardless.

But the most beautiful thing that Shabana said in regards to parallel cinema and Bollywood was that parallel cinema is not gone, but rather it manifests itself in mainstream Bollywood which is something she had always felt was the right way to go about it. I personally salute this statement because it's a very well expressed reflection of my own thoughts on the Bollywood of the new Millenium.

Kabir Bedi then tried to bring the two main topics together and he spoke at length about the philosophy of film making in Bollywood versus Hollywood. Hollywood, in his opinion, does movies as a business or to win Oscars (which is also ultimately about money), so the bottom line is very important and this he tied into the pre-production work that gets done. Bollywood on the other hand is more casual: pre production goes at the same time as production. Indian producers, he said, are the most courageous in the world, because they put their money into something that is often not clearly defined and certainly not guaranteed to succeed.

Kabir Bedi also made an interesting point about Indians not being great planners, but in turn being fantastic improvisers. Knowing a thing or two about event planning myself, I couldn't help but snort at this comment that was meant to praise the creativity of Indian film crews because in my humble opinion there is hardly ever need for improvisation if things are planned right. Moreover, creative patch-work solutions are wonderful to get one out of a sticky unexpected situation, but they should not be the norm, they should stay the exception. So while I applaud along with Kabir Bedi the resourcefulness of a crew who can make an elephant materialize on the sets with only a day's notice, I continue to have more respect for the crew who, knowing months in advance from the script that an elephant will be needed, does all the work ahead of time to make sure the special guest will be looked after and delivered on time.

Of course, these are all generalizations, and surely not all film makers in India do everything last minute, nor are Hollywood film crews always prepared for everything, but when Kabir Bedi said "we are not planners but we are great improvisers" something in that rang very true and not in a good way.

I've decided to gloss over the part of Bedi's speech regarding film making in Europe because he didn't seem to have any idea what he was talking about when his whole argument was based on the statement that "Europe is divided by language". That may be so (though not sure exactly how that is different from India as a whole), but Europe also has a highly productive dubbing industry, which, paired up with NOT being allergic to subtitles ensures that people can watch movies from any part of the continent without being in any way held back by the fact that the movie was shot in a language they don't understand. At any rate, the point he was making his way towards when he brought Europe into the discussion was that Indian film makers should pay more attention to that market rather than focusing on North America, which is definitely something I am in favour of.

Last but not least, Ajay Virmani shared with the audience the trailer for Breakaway, a film that his son wrote and stars in. He has confidence that this is the type of film that both Canadian and Indian audiences can connect with. I suppose we'll see about that, but it certainly didn't seem too bad. The film is about a first generation Indo-Canadian trying to make it into the professional hockey world, a sport whiter even than tennis. Some of the lines fell flat for most of the audience, but a couple of them had everyone laughing, notably a point that one of the players on the team makes about the opposite team: "They're bigger, they're faster, they're stronger. And they're WHITE!" If you're expecting this movie to be politically correct, think again! But I for one am perfectly fine with that as long as it's funny.

By the way, Russell Peters and Anupam Kher are in it. And apparently so is Akshaye Kumar, hopefully not for long. Sadly the trailer is nowhere to be found on youtube yet, so here's hoping it will surface soon!

Last but not least, I was not impressed with Lisa Ray beyond her breathtaking good looks, as she was talking about belonging to neither Hollywood (guessing she meant Hollywood North by that because to my knowledge she hasn't actually acted in Hollywood) nor Bollywood. Probably why she couldn't make any good points about either of them, but that's ok because she did leave me with a great quote that I will probably use a lot going forward: "For every statement you can make about Bollywood, the opposite is also perfectly true." And that's why I for one love it!

Isn't she a doll though? Just beautiful!

Lagaan, the Red Carpet to Bollywood

2011-06-23T10:57:00.000-07:00

Well, more like a yellow carpet since that's the predominant shade used in the film, probably to emphasize the presence of the desert. But yellow or red or green (since I am in IIFA mode, in case that needed clarification), Lagaan seems to be one of those films that got many people into Bollywood and this is perhaps a good opportunity to talk about why that is.

Lagaan is the story of a poor village in 19th century India, a team of misfits, an obnoxious British officer, and a cricket match. But really, it is so much more than that!

I saw Lagaan somewhere at the beginning of my Bollywood career myself, probably among the first 10 Bollywood flicks I ever watched, so while I can't credit it with my conversion, I do give it full credit for my long lasting love affairs with Aamir Khan Productions and Ashutosh Gowariker (one of which ended rather abruptly recently, but a lady never tells, of course). It's funny that it is such a big draw for us non-desis, especially since this movie almost didn't get made for fear that it would be a commercial flop. Such is life it seems: the moments when you expect to fail you pass with honours and then other times when you think you have it in the bag, success just runs past you. I could swear I enjoy listening to the story about how Lagaan got made and succeeded against all odds about as much as I enjoy actually watching it and seeing the cricket team win the match.

As I was sitting thinking about why this movie is such a big draw, it occurred to me that the reason why it holds such appeal to non-Indians is precisely its Bollywood-ness. I've been meaning to write a post about why I love Bollywood movies for a long time, and Lagaan sure seems to make great examples for many of these reasons, so why don't I do just that?

:: Cinematography ::

Beyond my love for good dancing and good music, the other main reason why I started watching Bollywood in the first place was the cinematography. No Bollywood movie ever looks dull and almost all Indian film makers have a unique talent for capturing the splendor of their country. It must be genetically ingrained and certainly an effect of being born in a country so dazzling, so colourful and so diverse, because very few other film makers from other backgrounds excel in this particular domain. Indian movies are so arresting that they will stop you dead in your tracks, in awe at the sheer beauty of it all.

Lagaan is without doubt the perfect example of that. Despite the fact that the story takes place in a very arid region, almost a desert, every frame has just the right composition to make for a stand alone painting. And as if that were not enough, the era was captured so beautifully and with such accuracy that it's not hard to get lost in the little huts or in the stony fields. Maybe some of the characters are sketched a little uni-dimensionally, but the atmosphere sure is captured in 6D from the boots of the British officers to the breeze blowing in Elizabeth's room in the fort.

:: Us Versus Them ::

Any movie goer worth their salt can see through the set-up of the evil British commander versus the poor honest Indians, so that hardly counts in the film's favour. But it's still endearing to watch, as it is with every movie that has patriotism at the core, just how devoted the villagers of Champaner are to their parched soil. Besides, who can not relate to a story about teaching the invaders a lesson, however small it might be?

Particularly when it's this guy to the left that's getting taught a lesson

:: The Song and Dance ::

I mentioned it before and I'm sure I have whined in the past about how seldom it is we see Aamir Khan dancing as fabulously as he did in Lagaan, but it really is worth dedicating a paragraph to the songs in Lagaan. An eclectic mix of religious and mythological elements, folk choreography and passionate lyrics, the songs in Lagaan are such great storytellers that if ever the rest of the movie disappeared through some wicked act of witchcraft and only the songs would survive, we'd be able to reconstruct the story just from watching them.

:: Cultural References ::

Another reason why Bollywood has had such a strong impact on me is it connects me to my love of cultures. There is nothing more fascinating than discovering another country's traditions and quirks and Indian movies do an incredible job in weaving theirs into the narrative. No two cultures will get their strength and substance from the same elements, and for the Indian culture, O Palanhare is a very telling example of what its building blocks are. It's not just the gods, as the beginning of the song would suggest, it's prayer, mother nature, song, and (perhaps most importantly) each other, they all weigh in evenly.

:: Religion and Tolerance ::

Lagaan makes a point of bringing up all the typical issues related to religious and caste discrimination. And in doing so, it also sends a message of peace that clearly is very close to Ashutosh Gowariker's heart (since he reinforced it later on with his "Jodhaa Akbar"). In fact, many film makers are fond of it, which makes it one of the most popular subtexts in many films. Sure it's just a wee bit heavy handed at times, but hey, would it be any more subtle in a Hollywood movie? I don't think so! And once you think about it, isn't this the type of message that should be spelled out, loud and clear especially in today's crazy crazy world?

:: Great Acting ::

Of course, no movie would ever make it into my heart if the cast didn't put it there. The chemistry between all the actors, the lengths that the whole team went to in order to speak, act and feel like their respective characters, it all comes through in every frame of the film. It's not just the main actors either, it's the whole cast, and it's been such a pleasure following some of the supporting actors in other films because they certainly proved their worth even after Lagaan.

Raghuvir Yadav in Peepli Live

:: Good Drama ::

I'm not a fan of over the top drama, but Lagaan seems to pack just the right amount, and when it goes over the top it's perfectly justified: these villagers are fighting against oppression for crying out loud, getting desperate is understandable. As opposed to, you know, getting all bent out of shape because your son married some girl you didn't approve of, which, you guessed it, does not count as "justified". Any movie that gives me drama in just the right amount will be a winner in my book, and certainly many films in the last decade have done that. Looking back now it truly seems like it all started with Lagaan.

They said in 2001 when the movie came out that Lagaan took everything Bollywood and turned it on its head. Perhaps... but in doing that, it simply revolved around its Bollywood heart, keeping it in the right place the whole time.

Kareena Kapoor

2011-06-19T15:48:00.000-07:00

Everyone who knows even a little bit about my filmi tastes knows I love Kareena Kapoor, so no Kapoor Khazana would be complete for me without a post about her. I'm sure part of my love is due to the fact that there is a critical mass out there of people who hate her (I think it has to do with her public persona, but you know... I don't really care about that stuff), but mostly it's because she's a bloody good actress. I remember Shahid Kapoor once saying about her (and I paraphrase) that she could walk into the set, talking on her cell-phone and with a snack in her other hand, put everything down and within seconds give a perfect shot. Aamir Khan has been known to say more than once that he has trouble focusing when she's around because she's so beautiful. While her cousin Ranbir Kapoor never wastes an opportunity to talk about what a natural actress she is. Heck, even Ranveer Singh, the new kid on the block, has been caught gushing openly on camera about how much of a fanboy he is for her.

So with all these stellar endorsements, one cannot ignore that... there's just something about Kareena! And I debated making this the title of the post, until I realized that the title does not need to be anything more than her name. With my well documented tendency to give really long titles to my posts, I'm sure this says a lot. Kareena Kapoor. Bas.

I haven't seen all of Kareena's films and I'm afraid I never will what with her well-known tendency to go from one-of-a-kind masterpieces to disturbingly bad movies (yes, Kambakkt Ishq, you're the front runner of that pack!), but I wanted to do a quick overview of the many faces of Kareena as I have seen them so far.

Kareena the warrior princess
(hey that rhymes with the Xena the Warrior Princess, except Kareena is good looking too! Ha!)

I've gushed about Asoka in the past, so I won't go over it again, but Asoka is a side of Kareena we don't see very often, so it's definitely worth starting with. There is a scene towards the end of the film where she defies the King Asoka that gives me the chills every time. Such raw hate and such power in just one line, it's moments like this that set an actor or an actress above the rest of the overweeping, overacting majority.

Kareena the College Diva

We've seen a lot of that in Kareena's early years, and certainly she has no trouble in these types of roles mostly because they're not very demanding. Films like Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon, Mujhse Dosti Karoge, Hulchul, show us a haughty, stylish (well, for those years anyway) Kareena who lacks nothing in the self-confidence department.

The crown jewel of those roles is of course her famous Poo in Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, and because I plan a more detailed post to explain why she is the best thing about that movie, I will not get into it too much now. Suffice to say that it takes a diva to play a diva and not many other Indian actresses have what it takes for a role that Kareena cruises through with so much class. Love her or hate her for it, but she rocks those roles like no one else would. Granted, for me that's usually not enough to save a bad movie (which most of the above are), but it sure is fun to watch.

Kareena the Sweet Young Lover

No more the college girl, no more the diva, films like Yuva, Milenge Milenge and 36 China Town still do so well in showcasing that innocence and youthful exuberance that defined Kareena's earlier days, even if they're not all good films. There was a freshness and a lovable quality about her in those days which, mind you, also happened to go marvelously with her old plumper self. It's something I miss in her more recent performances but it probably has a lot to do with her maturing as a person, not just as an actress. Not even Kareena can stay young forever, so I enjoy these roles so much from her precisely because I know we'll never see her in another one again. Of course, this faded only to make room to a more refined actress, so who be I to complain too much about that?

Kareena the Vamp

I've only seen Fida in this category, but would certainly love to see more movies like this from her. Kareena in a negative role where she gets to be sarcastic, perfidious and evil while also looking drop-dead gorgeous? Yes, please!

Kareena the Prostitute

Another solitary role in her repertoire, though probably not for long (rumour has it she's a high class prostitute in Aamir's next flick), Chameli is one of Kareena's best roles, if not her absolute best. It's hard to even think that this is the same person we had seen as the delicate deaf-mute girl in Chup Chup Ke, as she lights up cigarette after cigarette and throws curses around while parading her alluring body in hopes of anyone buying it for the night. Chameli is more reminiscent of a theatre play than a Bollywood production, with everything good and everything bad that comes out of that, but Kareena's act shines with all the sparkle that is rightfully absent from the rest of the film.

Kareena the Tomboy

Sometimes the movies are great (3 Idiots, Tashan) and sometimes they make me wonder why I am still into Bollywood (Golmaal 3), but Kareena the tomboy is one of my all time favourite characters regardless of the film. I like a girl with personality, and when she gets to be badass too, well, she's definitely got my attention! Whether she's slapping the grin off of Aamir Khan's face, or delivering one of the finest drunken scenes in 3 Idiots; or keeping the two boys on a short leash in Tashan; or just being part of the gang in Golmaal 3 (an otherwise NOT recommended watch); she's such a joy to see on screen. It's funny that I think she does the diva to perfection while other times I'll say she was born to play tomboy roles, but I suppose that's the sign of true talent.

Kareena the Tragic Lover

Drama is certainly one of Kareena's strongest subjects, and we usually get treated to longer or shorter displays of this talent in every one of her movies. But Omkara and Refugee are the two that I think really do justice to Kareena's skill in the tragedy genre. Right from her first film, Refugee, she shows no hesitation in emotional scenes where even seasoned actors tend to overact. Her Omkara director, Vishal Bhardwaj, also really knew how to exploit that in the role of Dolly, the tragic Desdemona in the Indian adaptation of Shakespeare's Othello.

A close runner up would be Kurbaan, where she gave a gut-wrenching performance, but sadly so many things about the movie fell flat for me that I simply can't brush past them only because of Kareena.

Kareena the Item Girl

This has not been one of Kareena's most successful avatars, mostly because she's not a very strong, or very graceful dancer. She usually gets by in songs because of her stellar facial expressions. But there are a couple of songs that she rocks (no pun intended) and here they are.

Have I forgotten anything? Oh no, you there in the back row shouting and waving, don't worry, I haven't forgotten...

Jab We Met!

Just saving the best for last!

The chatty Punjabi girl with dreams of marriage in her eyes and words of comfort on her lips... very few people can resist her! Pair this up with the defeated, joyless Geet of the second half of the movie and you've got yourself the most comprehensive performance in all of Kareena's career. I'm not sure if I would label it as her best acting (what with Chameli and Omkara also in the run for that trophy), but it definitely is the best showcase for her many talents as she gets to portray just about every emotion in the book in a role that (many agree) was simply made for her. And look, even her dancing was great in it!

The problem with Kareena is that she sometimes makes it very very difficult to be a fan, whether it's by shooting her mouth off about the wrong thing, or by choosing films that are beneath her capabilities and status, while giving the boot to projects that some of her fans (myself included) would love to see her in.

But... despite all that... she still remains: the one and only BEBO!!

Celebrating Magical Realism: Road Movie and Nandhanam

2011-06-12T19:24:00.000-07:00

Magic realism--a kind of modern fiction in which fabulous and fantastical events are included in a narrative that otherwise maintains the 'reliable' tone of objective realistic report. Designating a tendency of the modern novel to reach beyond the confines of realism and draw upon the energies of fable, folk tale, and myth while maintaining a strong contemporary social relevance. (The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms)

Magical realism, now that I think about it, is hard to find in Indian movies. A bit odd considering they come from a culture brimming with superstitions and religious beliefs. But no matter.

I am always happy to see a film that uses magical realism precisely because they are so few and far between. Moreover, out of these few films that delve into it, there are even fewer I actually like (sorry, Paheli and Videsh, you failed miserably to impress me). Which is unfortunate because for example most of my favourite authors (Salman Rushdie, Jose Saramago and to a certain extent Gabriel Garcia Marquez) can sell me just about anything written in this style.

So today I want to celebrate two magical films that I love unconditionally: Road Movie (Hindi) and Nandhanam (Malayalam).

I saw Road, Movie at the Toronto Film Festival in 2009 and I never though I would be able to recreate the high that possessed all of us when we came out of the theatre. So I admit to being a little afraid to rewatch it after getting the DVD. But it turns out it's just as powerful the second time around as I remember.

Road, Movie takes us on a journey across the Rajahstani desert in an old movies truck, along with Vishnu (Abhay Deol), a mechanic (Satish Kaushik), a kid (Mohammed Faisal) and a gypsy woman (Tannishtha Chatterjee). "In the desert", as another beloved Abhay Deol movie points out, "nothing is what it seems." Elements of magical realism come up more than once in surprising ways that elevate this film from a simple road movie (pun intended) to a glorious magic carpet ride.

And before I stray away from the theme, let me introduce the other lovely piece of art that is responsible for my taking a break from Kapoor Khazana to write this post: Nandhanam.

Nandhanam is the story of the beautiful servant girl and Krishna devotee Balamani (Navya Nair) who falls in love with the very handsome and very straightforward young master of the house: (Prithviraj). Status, family honour as well as the ever powerful sense of duty towards one's parents keep them apart. But the God Krishna is there looking out for them. Of course for the purposes of this post I will pretend that the annoying comedy track does not exist in this film. In fact, I strongly suggest you do the same with the help of our ever-faithful friend: the fast-forward button.

These two stories have nothing in common other than the above mentioned elements of magical realism. But because that is so hard to find, I am celebrating them both in the same post.

Road, Movie

Gypsyes with their transitory nature and documented restlessness are often used to make the transition between what is real and what is magical in all kinds of stories. This happens a lot in Eastern European art, one great example being Emir Kusturica's films. So it's somewhat fitting that one of the characters in Road Movie is a mysterious gypsy woman without a name and without a home.

From the moment Vishnu's truck is started and until its dismissal at the end of the film, the real world is just a backdrop. None of the characters even behave as they would in the real world: they don't ask each other questions about their background, they don't chat needlessly, they just accept each other for what they are right there and then. To enhance that sense of fable, none of the people that Vishnu meets have a name, nor are they asked for one. It's this air of surrealism, or better said of fake realism, that makes Road Movie so very special.

The scenery with its endless roads of yellow dust and pebbles also contributes to the outlandish feel. Not surprisingly it brings to mind Giorgio de Chirico's deserted, desolate landscapes, a background not uncommon with other surrealist painters such as Yves Tanguy and Salvador Dali.

Of course, as is usually the case with magical realism, the fantastical elements are well balanced by pertinent social commentary and characters well anchored in the real world: police officers, goondas, villagers. The water women that appear at key moments throughout the film somehow seem to belong to both worlds, making the transition smoother.

And because biting irony is always a sure sign of realism, we find plenty of it all along the movie, culminating with the biggest irony of them all: instead of selling the hair oil as instructed, Vishnu exchanges it for water, a commodity only precious on the rare occasions when it is lacking. But then that is the key to the whole movie, isn't it: it's the things we take for granted, like water, life, laughter, and even a good hair oil massage that end up teaching us the big lessons.

Very much connected to the magical realism theme, everyone always asks about the fair scene, as they do not find it real enough for the film. This question was asked a couple of times of Dev Benegal at the Film Festival and he shrewdly evaded the answer. I've also seen the resolution of the Waterlord conflict being judged by the same criteria. But what I always want to reply to these critics is: where do you draw the line to define realism in a movie like this? If the Fair is not real, is the Waterlord episode more real? If that is also preposterous, is the police station more real? Is the journey itself? Are the people in the story? Is that ancient truck any more real? You see how this can go on endlessly. And after all, the real question is: does it really matter?

The beauty of magical realism is that it doesn't question itself: things happen the way they are told, when they are told, and that's final. Why then question the movie when it does not doubt itself? You know it can't happen, that it's logically impossible, and yet here it is happening in front of your eyes, and guess what: it's on purpose, it's not a continuity mistake nor is it a dream sequence. In the simple words of Salman Rushdie: "It happened that way because that's how it happened." (Midnight's Children)

Nandhanam

Rushdie's words can easily be transferred to the more straight-forward Nandhanam, where (and this is hardly a spoiler because it's evident right from the beginning) the God Krishna's involvement in Balamani's life alters the elements in the story, thus recreating reality. Balamani herself seems to question it but she ends up accepting it as a fact, which is of course exactly how the story should go. A devotee of Krishna, Balamani has a very personal relationship with her most revered God, where she sees him more as her confidante than anything else. Much of the time spent in her room consists of conversations with Krishna as if he were a diary. But more than a diary, she treats him like a real person, a friend that you can get mad at, call upon in the middle of the night for help, look to for comfort and admit your deepest fears to.

It's hardly surprising then that his involvement in the story would reach beyond the frames of his icon.

Nandhanam is a classic fairy tale complete with a prince who falls in love at first sight and powerful forces of evil (in the shape of family honour and uncompromising relatives). We cannot judge the characters for being so kind it renders them weak because they are not here to teach us about rebellion, they are here to teach us about faith.

We also cannot judge the evil forces and their excuses and predicaments for the same reason: their existence validates the story.

At the same time, most of the characters, good or bad, bring about credible social commentary and the mentalities of the middle class family are captured eloquently. It's not that we've never seen a love story where the family opposes the union, but we rarely see a story that paints such an expressive picture of all the factors that influence this group decision. We also rarely see stories where folklore or gods have any kind of impact on the fate of the couple and this makes Nandanam very special.

Nandhanam, let's face it, is not a terribly complex movie, but it's a story with its heart in the right place and that little smidgen of magical realism truly makes it memorable. Because behind the very astute portrait of societal norms, the magical element brings about a very important question: can faith truly move mountains? Can wishing for something with a pure heart truly alter the course of your destiny? It's nice to be reminded to think of that every once in a while and that's exactly what Nandanam with its simple love story and simple people does.

Which brings me to the realization that perhaps that's why I love magical realism so much: it makes me wonder about all those layers beyond the visible and tangible world we live in, but at the same time it does so without demanding anything of me. I am not required to be religious, in fact I'm not even required to buy the story. I just have to... go with it. I'm certainly glad I "went with" both Nandanam and Road Movie.

Ajab Ranbir's Silly Happy Movie

2011-06-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

Now that Kapoor Khazana is in full blast, a quick reminder that this is a wonderful month-long international event, hosted by Totally Filmi's Katherine, so in case you didn't land on my blog through this event, do check out all the other happenings and posts collected by Katherine here. It's already been a blast and we haven't even completed a week!

While on the topic of shameless promotion, I take this opportunity to also pimp out my page of Ranbir Kapoor avatars, because you know, why not?

And now back to business as usual. I'm a little behind of actual reviews, so one was long overdue. Since I have so far talked at length about 2 Ranbir movies on this blog, and briefly touched on another 2, there was no other option but to finally review the wacky Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani ("The extraordinary tale of oddball Prem", as I like to translate it, very inaccurately I'm sure). A simple or not so simple love story between Prem (Ranbir Kapoor), the good for nothing self-elected president of The Happy Club and Jenny (Katrina Kaif), the new girl in town. Essentially it's just another one of those growing up from slacker to hero stories that Ranbir Kapoor excels at, but as usual with him, the theme stays fresh and fun. Katrina Kaif doesn't typically impress me, but this is the role where I found her glorious and perfectly cast. Her best acting yet, even though that may sound inadequate for such a silly film.

Namak: Ewww!!! Converse shoes and a skirt???

Dolce: Oh don't worry, in terms of sartorial choices, there is much worse in this one!

Yes, Ranbir, that IS a satin suit and no amount of staring at it will make it better...

Well then, we're off to a good start! Though I must also congratulate the costume department in this one for the persistence with which they kept repeating the colour yellow (my favourite) in Katrina's outfits. Loved every single one of those yellow dresses and let me tell you there were many!

Namak: Actually, you criticize it for no reason, the clothes were young and fun for the most part.

Dolce: Too yuppy for my tastes, but that's something I have to learn to live with. At least they were colourful!

But one thing that the above poster does nail is the cartoon feel of this movie. One will never make it past the first 20 minutes unless they have understood and embraced that. The comedy in APKGK is very much reminiscent of Tom and Jerry cartoons, and even though it pauses for the serious moments that take the plot forward, ample warning about it is still needed.

I'm usually not the type to go for goofy comedy, but this is one of those films where you have no choice but to laugh out loud. It's not just that the comedy is funny, it's also so self-aware that you feel like a condescending schmuck if you don't go along with it. At least I did.

I mean for crying out loud: they escape on a ski jet and climb onto a train stopped on the bridge on a rope ladder!! That alone should tell you it's an insult to expect any seriousness from this movie! But at the same time I appreciate that unlike many comedies lately this one doesn't rely on causing someone pain or on insulting people in order to be funny. It's all in good heart: people sitting on cakes, exaggerated reactions, over the top acting, Ranbir dancing goofily at the wedding, Katrina making faces, Salman Khan in a very self-referential guest appearance, the kind of stuff that good old-fashioned comedy is made of.

Namak: Trying too hard sometimes maybe?

Dolce: No way! Just right!

Namak: Definitely too much comedy for my taste at times, but I must admit the non-goofy moments do make up for that.

Another reason why Ajab Prem works so well as a cartoon is the set: a very artificial town, reminiscent of Saawariya, where only a fairy tale can take place. This blends nicely with the outlandish feel of the whole story, removing all claims for realism.

Dolce: But you know what I think is this movie's biggest strength?

Namak: D-uh! Ranbir, right?

Dolce: Hah! Very funny, but no. THE SONGS! It's not very often you watch a movie these days where every single song is not only perfectly placed but also impeccably shot! I can't even pick a favourite they're all just so good!

Namak: And of course that has nothing to do with Ranbir?

Dolce: Erm... well, of course they work even better because he's such a great performer, but... Well yeah, I guess that's a big part of it.

Namak: Mm-hm. I knew it.

No really, someone please try and find one thing that is faulty in this one:

Wonderful, just wonderful!

And while on the topic of the songs, I really wish one day I could analyse what makes Tu Jaane Na so exquisitely beautiful, but I'm afraid dozens of rewatches later I still am not able to think straight while watching it. I get the old lump in the throat when it starts and coherent thought is replaced by a storm of emotions until it ends.

I also always forget just how much I love Aa Jao Meri Tamanna until I see it again in the movie. And it's not only the beautiful lyrics and the soulful melody, I blame a lot of it also on Ranbir's natural gift for lip-synching. So many other actors look either uncomfortable or just goofy when doing all those broad gestures and pretending to sing at the top of their broken heart, but not Ranbir. He was born for this, there's no doubt about it!

Oh but enough of the songs, I could be here all day talking about them and I never even mentioned Ranbir's dancing yet!

It's a difficult task this movie took on: to tell a story with the emotional pathos of the olden days, but also to keep it entertaining and funny with goofy moments and situational comedy. I think they nailed it most of the time.

Namak: Except for the stammer stuff. That was unnecessary, no?

Dolce: What? I thought that was cute!

Namak: It seemed so tacked on, they just couldn't find a better excuse for their first fight so they added it to the script.

Dolce: Not at all. It was a cute little detail that makes both characters even more endearing.

Namak: Hmpf! Suit yourself. I think the movie would have worked just fine without that.

Dolce: That may be so but how would you have had this wonderful umbrella moment without it?

Jenny realizes that she had no reason to be mad at Prem so in a pinch for how to say sorry, she quickly advances to cover him with her umbrella. This is the kind of Bollywood we live for, isn't it?

By the way, for more adorable and romantic umbrella moments in all kinds of Kapoor movies, Totally Filmi has a post dedicated to them here.

What is there left to say about Ajab Prem? Plenty! I haven't talked about the gangsters / men in black...

...haven't mentioned the twist that brings Upen Patel into the tale (not that that's a good thing, just for the record)...

(Sorry, no screencap for this one, I refuse.)

...haven't praised Prem's perfectly cast parents: Darshan Jariwala and Smita Jaykar...

...have also not even touched on Prem's gang of ever so helpful and good-hearted friends...

...and nor did I say a word about the fight in the end that has me rolling on the floor laughing every single time!

But then I always get criticized for writing too much and besides: there must be some surprises in the movie for you too, no?

Wait, is that...? No, it can't be! But it... !?!?!

Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani is like blue cheese. It's strong, stinky and surprising so you have to really know what to expect to not be disappointed. But behind the slightly odd first aftertaste, the hard ripe deliciousness of it will leave your palate with some very sweet memories. And once you get into it, you're hooked for life!

Papa Kehte Hain...

2011-06-01T08:16:00.000-07:00

No, you're not about to read a post about Aamir Khan's Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, though that is indeed the song that I'm referencing.

Because instead of making me think of Aamir Khan, this one makes me think of the most wonderful father-son pairing that ever graced the Bollywood silver screen: Rishi and Ranbir Kapoor. Ok, fine, so there's another father-son duo whom I am also ridiculously fond of (by the same last name too!), but we'll forget about that for the coming month. (Don't worry Shahid, I'm still working on how to skip work and see Mausam first day first show!)

I try not to follow them too much in interviews and such because no good things can come out of that, but these two always make me happy on the big screen.Yes, even young Rishi is adorable to me, though my experience with his loverboy antics is quite limited. I never know if that's a good thing or a bad one.

For some reason I always have a lovely time imagining young Rishi running around after a 7 year old Ranbir who is prancing and singing "Papa kehte hain bada naam karega" (Daddy says: he'll make a big name for himself) completely unaware of what destiny (and surely some family connections) had in store for him.

So now that I put that image in your head... Mwahahahaa!!! No really, whenever I think about Rishi playing daddy, I associate him not with what I read about him in the news, but with his aura in recent movies. Because my head is a giant melting pot of reality, fillums and everything in between, for me the Papa that the song above is talking about needs a face and that face belongs to Rishi Kapoor. Is it a completely false image? Oh yes, I am certain of it! But I give it to you anyway because... well, because who would not want a daddy with Rishi Kapoor's face and a mosaic of his characters from recent movies? You tell me after you read this!

Today I feel like playing, so putting Papa Rishi together will be my Cranium playdough challenge. Unfortunately this may mean that not everything will stay in place for long (especially when confronted with reality), but at least it makes for good fun. And what better way to start Kapoor Khazana, a month of celebrating the Kapoor clan, that with a little bit of sci-fi sculpting? Or clay playing... same thing.

So here we go, reaching for the dough... 3... 2... 1... aaaand Action!

The big blob of the body is red, because it's a colour that to me symbolizes the bonhomie that I always associate with Rishi's roles. He radiates it like Santa Claus radiates jolliness and I can't even pick one role where this comes through more or less because it seems to be everywhere, even in serious roles like Ali Beg in Delhi-6. Whenever I see Rishi appear, I start smiling contentedly because like a cup of hot chocolate he makes everything better.

The red body is completed by white limbs which symbolize wisdom, a trait I saw a lot of in his character in Love Aaj Kal. A father figure who's always there for you with good life advice and a sympathetic ear! He may laugh at you when you behave foolishly, but it'll never be with malice. Nothing short of ideal, I should say!

A wool sweater or a grey kurta a la Fanaa must absolutely convey a sense of warmth coming from playdough Papa Rishi who manages to be lovable even when drunk, or in the case of Fanaa, especially when drunk! Certainly a man who knows what's right and worries for his children but without being overbearing.

Finally, from Luck by Chance I took away some mischief, some sarcasm and also some street smarts and added it to the Rishi dough. And this will be... green, like a leprechaun. We'll add this shape as the nose because it's cute. Seriously no other reason. Ok, maybe because his nose should have grown double in Luck by Chance from all the monkey business he was wheeling and dealing. But luckily for him, it was all in good heart and I can't imagine any other actor who would have kept my undiminished sympathy all the way to the end of the film in this role.

Damn: time's up! I may not win this round of Cranium after all... Unfortunately, after all that, my play dough Rishi looks more like a blobby turtle...

Err.. So forget that! There's always the next round. But despite my failure in conveying my affection for Papa Rishi roles (which in my humble opinion is what he was born for), what I'm really trying to say here, in what is clearly too many words, is that it takes a particularly wonderful actor to always make me smile, and Rishi has definitely got it. So perhaps it's a good thing that I came to know him from his later roles instead of going the oldies way. Not sure if he would have been as endearing to me had I started off with say a love story with Madhuri. For me he'll always be Papa Rishi, running after a 7 year old boy and being the most pleasant friend a son could possibly want.

So are you still wondering what that has to do with the song? Other than that being someone's humming challenge at Cranium?

La la la la la...
Dil ki duniya mein apna naam karega...
(He'll make his name in the world of hearts)

Keep guessing, I won't tell you!

But I'll give you a hint: it's my cue for the next post in Kapoor Khazana dedicated to my favouritest Kapoor (from this clan at least): Ranbir!

Now excuse me while I go swoon over this picture for the next week or so!

Sita and Ram - That Ideal Couple-Shmuckle Thing

2011-05-21T09:40:00.000-07:00

Very few stories in the world seem to be referenced as often as the Ramayana, which could be because of its age, although I prefer to attribute it to its versatility. Also, by the end of this essay I will likely find one more probable cause for it.

I only started reading the Ramayana (in an old 5th hand translation, so I'm sure much of its meaning was lost on me) because of all the films that are based on it or that draw parallels with it. Not to mention all the songs that talk about Ram and Sita! Yet no two movies "inspired" by it were the same, so I got to the point where I just wanted to know: ok, what the heck is the original story? Well, not surprisingly there are many original stories, so many in fact that I could not find a summary to post here and spare myself the trouble of describing the version that I read. Heh...

To make a long story short (and please help me out with a link if anyone knows of a good short synopsis), Valmiki's Ramayana (the version I read anyway) sees Sita kidnapped by the demon Raavana who keeps her captive in Lanka while trying to convince her to be his wife. Sita keeps pushing him away firmly convinced that her true husband and master Rama is on his way to rescue her. She is right of course, and he does come to save her, but after Raavana is killed, Rama tells Sita that he cannot take her back because she has lived in a stranger's house for a whole year and it is not acceptable for him to take her back. Sita then orders a fire be built as she would rather be consumed by fire than live knowing that her husband and God doubted her. However, the god of fire refuses to take her thus proving her purity to Rama who then admits that he knew she was innocent but required proof for anyone else in his kingdom who would doubt it.

The last book of the Ramayana is not universally accepted as part of the story, but of course, consistent pagan that I am, I find it quite relevant. Sita and Rama return to Ayodhya and here again the commoners start whispering and making accusations, so Rama asks the pregnant Sita to leave for the good of the people and the kingdom. She does and in the forest she gives birth to two twin sons. Years later, Rama encounters his sons and is told their story. He then asks Sita to be brought back, but upon her return, he feels that she should once again clear everyone's doubts and go through the trial of fire. But this time she won't. While lamenting her fate she calls to her mother, The Earth, to swallow her. Rama never remarries and continues to rule righteously over Ayodhya until the end of his days.

One thing I am not here to do is discuss the Hindu scriptures, as much as I am interested in finding out more about them, so I will take the Ramayana version that I have read at face value without debating the many aspects of it that I disagreed with. That is better left to scholars. What I am here to talk about is films that use the theme of kidnapping and what happens to Sita after she get rescued.

I don't watch many movies from the 80s and the 90s, which is a shame for this particular topic because I bet there is a wealth of references in those, what with 9 out of 10 films being love stories in those decades. But even if I restricted myself to the 2000s there is still a cornucopia of references and interpretations, perhaps more than it would be fit for a religious story.

Before I even get to the films I can't help but point out that most mythical pairs of lovers are given a pretty straight-forward treatment in modern films. Take Romeo and Juliet for example: from Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak to Baz Luhrman's Romeo + Juliet the story stays pretty much the same even if the post-modern coating tries its best to make the latter look like a new story.

I swear I tried to resist posting a gratuitous shot of DiCaprio, but I can never win this one...

Or if we go further back in time to Tristan and Isolde, every modern adaptation has them going through the same trials and ending in the same place. Orpheus and Eurydice are yet another example of mythical lovers whose fate has been reenacted many times (we won't count Salman Rushdie's The Ground Beneath Her Feet, because the connection is loose at best) with virtually the same result: why Orpheus, why did you have to turn? Yes, we know, because there would be no story otherwise. In the Bible there are few couples that can be seen as ideal lovers, with Adam and Eve being anything but ideal, and at any rate they are seen more as parents and family heads than as lovers. And then of course Samson and Delilah as famous a pairing as they are, would have some serious trouble if they applied for the "ideal couple" designation.

One thing is for sure though: whether we see these stories on a theatre stage, at the opera, on celluloid or on paper, the narrative follows the original story with enough fidelity to reassure us of the immortality of each myth.

However, not so with the Sita-Ram story. The more films I see referencing the Ramayana (even if not always openly acknowledging it), and specifically the love story part of it, the more twists and turns the original story takes. Out of the 8 movies I chose for this post, only one follows the story somewhat closely, but even that one adds its own footnotes thus giving it a whole new meaning. Which is somewhat baffling because in a society as irreligious as ours one would expect to find all kinds of reinterpretations of myths all over the place, while India strikes me as more conservative in the way of Gods and religion, and yet they come up with the most surprising... do I dare call them blasphemies?

Sure it's debatable whether or not Sita and Ram are seen as ideal lovers, and enough Desi people have told me that they are not, but from where I'm sitting, getting referenced in every other song about marriage and in every other movie about marital bliss puts them pretty high up on that pedestal.

And before I move on, because I always try to make sure there are no spoilers in my reviews, this paragraph is here to warn you that THERE WILL BE SPOILERS GALORE in this post for every single one of the movies mentioned. And the reason for that is: most Sita-Ram inspired stories follow the same pattern, except at the end. Here's a closer look at each of them in no particular order.

Khal Nayak (Hindi, 1993)

I have no idea why I even watched Khal Nayak all the way to the end, I suppose it was some sort of challenge I gave myself, but since I watched it, I was not going to leave it out even if it's from a decade I had no intention of including. Khal Nayak tells the story of Ballu, a criminal who has so far managed to escape justice every time. Ram is the head of the secret police (so secret in fact that he gives statements on TV regularly) who is on his tail. Ganga, played beautifully by Madhuri Dixit, is a jail supervisor and Ram's girlfriend, who decides to go undercover and join Ballu's gang to bring him to justice. After many (read 3 hours worth of them) over the top scenes and ridiculous displays of villainy (usually punctuated by fake cackles and menacing zoom-ins of the villain's face), Ganga ends up rescuing Ballu from an encounter with the police, because she has discovered the human being under the mask of the villain. However that labels her as a traitor and lands her in jail.

Ram, despite knowing her to be innocent, is ready to bow down to justice (much like the original Ram to the "justice" of his people) thus betraying her trust and their love. In this version of the story it is Ballu, the villain, who turns himself in and stands up for Ganga's purity in a speech that references the Ramayana more than once.

Tendencies to humanize the demon Raavan appear quite often in films, which is not very urprising considering there are apparently scores of interpretations that see him as a great leader of his people and a very learned man.

Pinjar (Hindi, 2003)

One of the most heart-breaking stories in Hindi cinema, at least for me, Pinjar revisits the Sita-Ram story over the backdrop of Partition. In this one, Raavan is Muslim (Rashid) while Sita and Ram are Hindus (Puro and Ramchand). He kidnaps her to settle an old family feud, almost against his own wishes. When she finally escapes after days of being locked up, she is rejected by her parents on the assumption that she has been raped.

Even if she hadn't been, which they are willing to believe, her honour is now tarnished and theirs along with it.

Puro must sacrifice herself for whatever is left of the name of her family, and for their lives which would be in danger if they took her back.

Leaving aside the moral issues that the parents' behaviour raises, the film succeeds fabulously in showing the gradual acceptance of her situation in a Sita forced to go back to Raavan as her only chance of survival.

Years go by and Rashid cannot come to terms with his sin, so he does everything in his power to make things right, even across the dangerous riots and curfews spawned by the recent Independence / Partition conflict. The ending is one of the most beautiful and heart draining moments that Bollywood has ever given me. I'm sure whoever has seen it will agree, and whoever has not... well, they're really missing out.

Lajja (Hindi, 2001)

A film that talks about the place of women in modern society via three women who are not really connected to each other that the main character meets. The main heroine, Vaidehi (Manisha Koirala), is an abused wife who runs away from her husband. Along the way she meets other unhappy women and puts together a very unflattering image of the woman in the Indian society. A great idea, very poor execution.

All three women in this film have one of Sita's names, but Janaki (Madhuri Dixit) is the only one where the side of the story that interests me is complete. She is showered with gifts and attention from the older owner of the theatre which effectively invites the jealousy of her chosen one, the father of her unborn child. In the form of a play (they are both theatre actors, which makes this a play within a play within a movie) Janaki is asked to go through the trial of fire to show that "Raavan" has never touched her and she bluntly refuses.

She sees no reason to prove her innocence in front of a husband who does not trust her.

The audience cannot accept a Sita who will not take the agni pariksha, so Janaki is promptly trialed and condemned by the public who attacks her, thus causing her to lose the baby. She does not resemble Sita in her resentment of Ram, but she does resemble her in the will to raise her child/children by herself and be both mother and father to them.

Sita Sings the Blues (USA, 2008)

The animated Sita Sings the Blues is a groovy, jazzy retelling, definitely the most modern interpretation, though a rather simplistic one (understandable given the fact that it is a 90 minute 2D animation). The fate of the abandoned writer is shown to mirror the fate of the abandoned Sita in clever montages of the writer's real life alternating with segments of the Ramayana. Sita thus becomes a symbol for every other woman left behind or neglected by the husband in favour of power or ambition. The narrators' interpretations of the Ramayana seems to favour that angle as well.

To them Ram always had a doubt about Sita which is why falling prey to his ambition to be the ideal king for his people is no hard work. But make no mistake, Sita is not absolved of her side of less-than-ideal behaviour either. At one point she is shown as a blood-thirsty puppeteer out to get Raavana killed, instead of saving herself. Nonetheless, Sita Singa the Blues is the most faithful retelling of the Ramayana, even if oversimplified, as it takes the story all the way to its finale where Mother Earth swallows a Sita who has essentially had enough.

Hey Ram! (Tamil / Hindi, 2000)

Hey Ram! is a tricky one because while it focuses on the Ram versus Raavan conflict (and turning the tables on it a couple of times too), there is very little Sita in it. By the way, this is the article that prompted me to watch this movie and include it in this post, as it may not be evident at first glance that the film even has anything to do with the Ramayana (at least it wasn't to me). The Sita in this story is about as passive as the Sita in the Ramayan, though to be fair, the fact that she is murdered somewhere in the beginning during the religious riots in Calcutta has a great deal to do with that. Nonetheless, she is instrumental to the plot on the one hand because the memory of her murder is what motivates Ram Saket throughout the entire story, and also in a more active role she comes back as a vision just as Ram is chosen to fight the demon (in this case Mahatma Gandhi) to make sure that he does not stray from it.

One could say that this is the most blood-thirsty Sita we have seen, even though she does not have an actual physical presence in the story.

The parallels however stop here because the rest of the story focuses on partition and on Ram fighting his demons.

Khuda Kay Liye (Pakistan, 2007)

Khuda Kay Liye has to me the most interesting treatment of the original story, a very unexpected one even if not entirely realistic. Mary, the daughter of a devout Muslim living in England with his white common law partner (right, well, the word "devout" only applies to his expectations for his daughter, he is clearly exempt from any kind of laws - of Islam or otherwise), gets tricked into going back to Pakistan where she is forcefully married to her cousin, a radical Muslim. She is in a very dangerous and remote part of Pakistan, so escaping is virtually impossible. During her 2 year captivity she makes friends with the women of the household but she is also raped and impregnated by her now husband.

She goes from being a bundle of energy and optimism to an empty shell kept alive only by thoughts of revenge and by her baby.

When she is finally rescued by her British fiance, she does her own killing of Raavan by bringing her husband to justice. However, when all is said and done and justice has been served, she takes the surprising decision of going back to the village where she had been held captive. She doesn't think she is the same person that "Ram" loved before, the captivity has changed her. This is the first Sita who never even gets to the trial of fire because she has trialed and convicted herself long before that. Considering one of the central themes of the film is broken spirits, this ending is appropriate, showing us a very down-to-earth Sita, stripped of all her Godlike devotion and indulgence, just a woman who has lost all hope in mankind.

Raavan / Raavanan (Hindi / Tamil, 2010)

Mani Ratnam's recent venture, Raavan / Raavanan, shows us a less celestial side of Ram, in the shape of Dev, a police encounter specialist (so a modern version of the killer of demons). This Ram is not the type to just bow to his father's wishes, which is probably why he has no other father than the IPS uniform. Nonetheless he goes to war in order to find his loved one, and is helped or hindered along the way by characters that mirror (some more faithfully than others) the secondary characters in the Ramayana. This one too turns the tables on the traditional characters and presents us a Raavan full of humanity and pain against a Ram full of hatred and ambition.

The twist, because of course there must be a twist, comes after Ram recovers his Sita (Ragini) and accuses her of impurity, knowing that this will push Ragini back towards Beera (the Raavan of our story) in a search for answers. In this version of the story, Ram believes Sita, but decides to use her to reach his goal of killing the demon. Much like in the original story, that proves to be his undoing and he loses her to his ambition.

Varudu (Telugu, 2010)

The only film I have so far seen that takes the sensible approach on the topic is the Telugu movie Varudu. When his bride gets kidnapped by an evil suitor and the parents are ready to give her up as damaged goods, Sandy the groom announces that it makes no difference to him if her honour remains intact or not, she is still his wife.

Luckily nothing happens to her because the villain, much like Raavan in the original story, turns out to be a softy at heart and gives her some time to think. I always said that a more determined villain, who does go through with his evil plans, would make a very interesting, albeit commercially doomed, film.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's interesting to note that most of these films, when the characters invoke Sita, the ideal woman, make it sound as if she accepted to put herself through the trial of fire, whereas that does not seem to be the case in the text that I read. The first time she asks for death, but is saved from it by the Gods, while the second time she practically refuses. How is it then that lesser humans expect their Sitas to go through a trial that the Godess herself only took by chance and not by will? The movies had given me a much more submissive version of Sita, so I was surprised when reading the book to find out that she did in fact have more strength and pride than I had given her credit for.

The movies also tend to vilify Rama beyond the facts of the book. Rama turned out to be less than ideal in many other instances, but the first time around he does not ask Sita to go through the trial of fire, he merely accepts it as her wish to die. Which is of course no small transgression, but all his other failings seem to constantly give way to the big one that endured: the request for proof of purity.

Why is it, I wondered, that films seem to favour this interpretation then, when it's not even based on the facts of the book (if we assume that the last book is not considered part of the scriptures)? Why is it that Sita is martyred when she turned out to be a much stronger character in the book? Why is it that submissiveness comes through as Sita's strongest trait and self-righteousness as Ram's? And how can this couple still be considered ideal despite all that?

Many questions that may never find an answer as I am sure a desi's interpretation will be completely different than mine, or any outsider's. I'm sure I also missed a lot of subtleties that a Hindu would just take for granted. Which is why I never claimed to have my own interpretation of the story (ok, I do have one, but have no intention of writing about it).

But the fact remains that films keep going back to this story, over and over and over again, only to alter its ending. Could it be that the reason why it has been reinterpreted so many times is because its original form is far from ideal?
How ironic a conclusion would that be?

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara Trailer

2011-05-15T08:23:00.000-07:00

Just because the new trailer is out and I had a rant in me this morning, a short one with thoughts on my most awaited film of the year: Zoya Akhtar's Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara ("You don't get to live twice" in an approximate translation).

Piecing together the bits and pieces released so far, the story is about 3 young guys (Farhan Akhtar, Abhay Deol and Hrithik Roshan) going off on the trip to Europe they were supposed to take after college, but never did because life got in the way. Now Abhay Deol's character is getting married, and of course the subtext is that his life is over (but I'll refrain from rolling my eyes on this one), so this is their last chance to go off on a guys trip.

You know what, I won't refrain after all: are most women so insecure that they will prohibit their husbands from going on a "guys only" trip after they're married? I mean surely any woman will appreciate some time alone so what's the big deal about a guys only trip? You married him, it's implied that you trust him and really if he wanted to cheat on you, isn't he more likely to do it with someone in the office for example? And if it's not the cheating then what is the problem? That he's having fun without you? So let him! Are you not capable of having fun without him? Sheesh!

Clearly Kalki Koechlin's character (the fiance) will not get much sympathy from me as she seems to be exactly the type of woman who will nay-say any further attempts from her husband to have any freedom after they're married. Le sigh... Anyway, sorry about that, rant over, on to the film.

The guys set off to Spain and they will all participate in each dude's favourite extreme sport, which by the looks of it are: running with the bulls, sky diving and water diving. I could be wrong on these though. In the process they meet some people and presumably "discover themselves"...

I am very much looking forward to Zoya's second film, but I am always amused (and Hollywood does this too) at this myth that film makers seem to keep exploiting that taking a trip to Europe will change your life, or it will change who you are. Yes, Julia Roberts, that goes for you too! Really guys, let's face it, when 3 young studs go to Europe for the summer, they'll be drinking the continent dry, they'll be partying until the wee hours of the morning and they'll probably lose a good 10% of their brain cells to drugs and alcohol. And if they're lucky, they'll only gain 10% of their weight after all the paellas and empanadas. Oh, and maybe they'll see a few landmarks and museums. Trust me, I know way more than 3 of these guys. The one thing that they will NOT do for sure is discover themselves.

No really, does this look like one of those moments that lead to epiphanies?

Ahem... I didn't think so.

Somewhere deep down inside I am hoping against hope that this will be the movie to show that after 2 weeks of having fun and doing all kinds of crazy stuff in Spain, the three men go back to their lives in India with some great memories, perhaps a tad more light-hearted, but essentially the same people they were before they left. But... I doubt it.

Nonetheless, this continues to be my most awaited film of the year because I have complete faith in Zoya to give me a great script with memorable dialogues, some fabulous songs, benchmark performances and maybe, just maybe (see how I still haven't lost hope?), a good insightful story.

Plus, the pairing of Hrithik and Katrina Kaif doesn't look half bad:

And I'm always up for the Abhay Deol - Kalki Koechlin pairing.

As I am always up for Farhan Akhtar. In anything.

Dear Blogger

2011-05-14T07:51:00.000-07:00

Please give me my Asoka - Urumi post back unless you want to hear some serious whining and hysterics.

Many anticipated thanks!

PS: Think carefully, I have a well armed friend who is willing to fight you if you don't comply!

Asoka vs Urumi and Why I Adore Santosh Sivan

2011-05-10T17:36:00.001-07:00

After seeing Santosh Sivan's Urumi on the big screen I kept struggling to put another DVD in the player as I had just enough time to watch a movie, but somehow it didn't seem right to wash off the sweet images hanging in each corner of my memory with some other film. Then I remembered that there was one I had been meaning to rewatch which would in fact enhance the memories instead of erasing them: the "other" Santosh Sivan historical, Asoka.

The film tells the story of the early life and deeds of the emperor Asoka, known for his cruelty and conquests, who would later renounce the way of the sword and travel the country to spread the light of Buddhism. It's not a very popular film and I am not entirely sure why. Maybe something to do with it being built on a (beloved?) historical figure most known for his good religious deeds? Maybe something about it being a modern love story in the guise of a historical? Maybe the fact that Shah Rukh Khan actually attempted a different role that did not please his fans? Maybe the inaccuracies which I would know nothing about? It doesn't matter, because from where I'm standing all these reasons are blocked from my sight, so I love it.

I may have gushed on other occasions about my love for Santosh Sivan's artistry, so I won't go over that again, but he is one of only a handful of directors who can make me watch the grass grow in real time without boring me for one second. Asoka was the first movie to convince me of that.

Urumi employs some of the same storytelling devices as Asoka, but it's a much simpler story: it's the story of a warrior out to fight Vasco da Gama's cruelty and with that, Portugal's imminent monopoly on the trading routes from India. I watched Urumi without subtitles and it is a very dialogue heavy film, so a proper review for it will come when the DVD *coughBluRaypleasecough* comes out, but for now I just wanted to put the two films in front of each other and look into the similarities and the reasons that make both of them so fabulous to me.

The Hero

Santosh's hero in Urumi is a powerful display of physicality. We all know that Prithviraj can act, but that did not come first on his list of requirements in Urumi. Badassness did. And that is just fine by me because a warrior needs to be valiant and manly first, and only then can he waste time with trivial dialogue. The character development did not find much room for growth because of that, so Kelu starts off as a perfect hero and ends up the same way. But this is not the type of story that calls for introspection or reflection, so we're happy to just see him slashing through the bad guys and being the perfect embodiment of the strong silent type.

In that respect Shah Rukh's requirements seem to have been the exact opposite. He does well with his displays of ~~testosterone~~ swordsmanship but they are overpowered by his displays of gallantry. Also, his evolution from teenage behaviour to ruthless warrior to finally grow into the man that was known for spreading Buddhism in India makes for a fascinating watch, and it definitely is one of the main reasons why Asoka holds a special place in my heart. A hero battling his demons can be just as engaging as a hero fighting his enemies.

The split personality and his inner conflicts make Asoka far more interesting a hero than Kelu, but that could also be why the film flopped, so I understand the need for a cleaner character. Also I wouldn't know if there were any dark shades in Urumi as I didn't understand any of the dialogues. I would be pleasantly surprised if there were.

The Heroine

Sivan's heroine on the other hand is half woman and half warrior, just the right mix of defiance and sexuality. She is vulnerable because she wants to, not because she's helpless. I can definitely see why the two heroes are attracted to her. Unfortunately for her, Genelia is at a disadvantage because she looks like an awkward teenage boy. This role demanded some curves, some grace, some poise which Genelia doesn't have, in other words she needed to be more woman. Not her fault, she just doesn't look the part. If a woman is to be appealing as a warrior, she must ooze fertility, just like the hero oozes testosterone, otherwise the effect is lost.

Genelia, in order to truly look the part, needed to be this:

and this:

and at the same time, this:

But she only manages to be... this:

Sigh... rather bland. But that's ok, because on the other hand Prithviraj was 100 times the hero that Shah Rukh the loverboy was not. Oh, a film with Kareena as the warrior heroine and Prithviraj as the fearless hero... What a dream that would be!

The Couple Dynamics

We had a lot more fun than we should have watching Kelu and Ayesha's scenes of... courtship (we called it foreplay) where they slash people's throats while staring longingly and menacingly into each other's eyes. It sounds strange, but I find that Sivan likes that kind of dynamic a lot in his couples. It's like love is a fight between the sexes and he will not take displays of weakness from either of them. Philosophically speaking, that's a pretty cool way of looking at it.

I noticed the same kind of relationship between Asoka and Kaurwaki who turn their love scenes into playful battles as well. Granted, that also made Asoka look more like a 90s romantic film than a historical and Sivan seems to have learned from that because he avoided making the same mistake with his main couple in Urumi.

Comic Relief

But flirting as we know it from modern films is not altogether absent in Urumi. It simply gets transferred to the other couple, Kelu's sidekick Vavvali (played by a delightful Prabhu Deva) and his bratty love interest Bala (Nithya Menon). They also serve as the comic relief characters of the film, which decidedly works a lot better than the poorly integrated comic side-plot in Asoka, involving some soldiers and a foxy narrator.

And speaking of relief, though not necessarily comic this time, Urumi also avoided using annoying children as part of the plot. Thankfully! If there is one thing and one thing alone that single-handedly made Asoka unbearable for me it's the little prince Arya. It took a lot of love for everything else in the film for me to get over just how annoying that child actor could be. Granted, the role called for heavy doses of brattiness and entitlement, so the blame does not lie entirely with the poor child actor, but sadly that does not make him more watchable.

The Visuals

Now let's face it, one doesn't always watch a Santosh Sivan film primarily for the plot. Because Sivan has been and will always be a cinematographer at heart, and he never lets us forget that. From the rich jungles of Before the Rains to the symbolically arid backdrop of Tahaan, Sivan's passion for photography never lets his stories down.

Unarguably his most beautiful sets are the great outdoors: lush, misty, humid, fertile with water and greenery. Santosh Sivan's landscapes always look so fresh you want to just take a bite out of them, he invents new colours and textures that nature never knew it had. He also has a knack for finding the world's most delightful waterfalls and using them creatively. The man could make a movie out of a single drop of water and I love him for that. This is one of the reasons I started watching Indian films to begin with and that fascination has not waned ever since.

From this point of view the less action-packed Asoka lingers more on the scenery especially in the first half where it is an integral part of the blossoming love story.

Urumi gets a more concise treatment, though just as beautiful and engaging. Because it's a faster paced story, the forces of nature seem to move faster as well: roaring waterfalls, storms at sea, whirlwinds of fire and smoke...

Every bit as delicious as one would expect from a director like Santosh Sivan.

It would not be fair to talk about the cinematography in Asoka and Urumi without talking about the impressive fights.

Urumi definitely has the better ones, not just because the choreography is a spectacle in itself, but because he combined a great deal of tricks: funky angles, slow motion shots, surreal leaps and twirls in the air, which made for some truly memorable scenes. On the downside, he cheated in this particular one by desaturating the colours during fights. It looked fabulous, there's no denying it, but the transitions were always abrupt enough to make it noticeable. For that reason, I have a feeling I will appreciate the DVD experience a lot more than the big screen because my TV will probably be a lot more forgiving.

Urumi picks up a few of the techniques essayed in Asoka and gives them the royal treatment, which is something I had always secretly wished for when watching the few sword fights and war scenes in the earlier film.

The Symbolism

Maybe because I've already watched Asoka a few times, but I like the symbolism in it better: from Asoka's black and white horses one for each side of his character to the war scenes where his dark side is preventing him from reuniting with a Kaurwaki whom he doesn't yet deserve; from the white ash smeared on the hero's face when grieving for his loved one to the peacock feathers that bring her to his memory every time; from the first conversation prince Asoka has with the monks straight through to his final recognition of the frailty of emperors and rulers... Asoka keeps giving me reasons to rewatch it in hopes of uncovering even more layers every time.

I'm sure Urumi's breathtaking visuals have their own hidden layers and meanings, but I couldn't pick up on them the first time around. The ones I did pick up on seemed too close to the surface and therefore not interesting: the shower of pepper on Vasco Da Gama's body; the gunpowder defeating traditional weapons just like in the present time story progress will destroy tradition; and of course how can we forget the sword itself, a symbol with many meanings: tradition, legacy, valour, manhood. And of course, by being quintessentially South Indian the urumi is a great antonym to the foreign invaders. Because Urumi is at the core an "us versus them" tale, no matter how we spin it.

Which brings me to the last point of differentiation between these two films, and that is the story itself. While Asoka is a journey of discovery, a voyage that takes the hero across experiences and emotions that will guide the main character to his final destination, Urumi is a much more straight-forward revenge saga. But where Urumi loses points on character development and sense of purpose, it gains them right back in tightness of pace and suspense. Because sometimes... you just want to see the hero triumph.

Final word...

I started off writing this thinking I would find plenty of similarities between Asoka and Urumi, Sivan's two great historicals. But as it turns out, they could not be any more different, which is a very pleasant conclusion to arrive to.

Now... on to wait for the Urumi DVD while pretending that I never heard of a shorter international version being in the works for festivals and Western audiences. And of course, on to feed my newly spawned Prithviraj crush!