Namak Went to See Dhobi Ghat at TIFF

It's hard to explain why I went to the Toronto Film Festival to see Aamir Khan not as a fangirl but as a movie lover, so I won't get into that in this post. But it must be said that even for a non-fangirl it was quite the fan experience to be there.

I'll get to the movie in a bit, but first the stars' entrances. People were waiting for at least an hour across the street from the venue, ready to mob the stars when they came in. Funnily enough I didn't even see Kiran when she jumped out of the SUV and squirreled into the theatre, and it's not because she's so tiny, but because I was too fascinated by the wave of people descending upon Aamir Khan like a tsunami. To give you an idea of what it looked like:

Haha! Fun times! By the way, Aamir is the wee little thing in the maroon suit (which I was impressed that he wore for us, AND with dress shoes FTW!). He was very gracious and walked the line of screaming fans twice.

Then we were shoveled inside and Cameron Bailey (can I just do a big w00t for this guy who manages to rock my world every year by bringing the most exquisite Indian films to the festival? w00t! w00t!) introduced the director (Kiran Rao) and the cast (Aamir Khan, Prateik - he dropped the last name by the way, Monica Dogra & Kriti Malhotra). They all came on stage, Aamir last, of course, and Kiran and Aamir said a few words.

Among the things that amused me (and also made me a bit sad) was Aamir mentioning (twice!, the second time just as he was getting off the stage) that "Guys, this is not a Ghajini". Ahem... Aamir, darling, I love you, but don't you think you're underestimating us? Maybe I am projecting a little much here, but does any festival goer expect to see a Ghajini? Or do they all, like me, expect to see beautifully crafted movies that were selected because they carry the film industry forward? A tough one, and I will admit I could be way off since this is the same festival that held the premieres of Dil Bole Hadippa and What's Your Rashee last year. But still, we could have done without the warning...

Anyways, on to the film. I don't usually tell the story of a film in my reviews, because it's available everywhere online and plus I like to think that my reviews give people reasons to watch a movie that are independent from the story. But since this one was such a secret until now, I will make an exception.

Dhobi Ghat is the story of 4 characters: Arun, the famous lonely painter (Aamir), Munna, the dhobi who wants to be a star (Prateik), Shai, the banker on a sabbatical in India (Monica) and Yasmin, the recently married Muslim girl who records her life in Mumbai for her brother back home (Kriti). They say that Mumbai is the fifth character in the movie, and if so, I found it to be a silent character, an immovable witness to the harmony and turmoil in which the characters function simultaneously. Much like the aunty in Arun's neighbouring apartment: always there, always seeing everything, but always silent. Not sure if that was a parallel that Kiran had in mind, but it seemed relevant to me.

The movie is a piece of their lives, and the narrative juggles a recent past and the present time beautifully. Among the daily routine of the characters, which is really what the story is about, we see a love story unfolding and it's not a love triangle but a love square. With a missing fourth connecting line. I swear I'm not trying to sound cryptic, but it's so charming to watch this play out that I don't want to spoil it for anyone.

So maybe I won't tell the story after all...

But I will highlight the three superstars of this movie, and neither of their names start with two Aa's.

First of all KIRAN RAO. 

Tiny little thing, with such a big heart! And this picture captures everything that is adorable about her! But I won't ramble about that now. I had no doubt that she would make a good movie, I knew it would be a well thought out story. What I didn't know was that she would wow me with the little touches like a bunch of fake grapes hanging from the rear view mirror in a car during the monsoon, which is the opening shot of the film. Or the chance encounter between Shai and Arun in the street when Shai is on her way to literally stalk Arun in his apartment which is so subtle and funny in so many ways. Or the painting that Arun makes towards the end of the film (who made that? I want it!). Or the old neighbour sitting in her chair with a vacant look - the most powerful image in the whole movie in my opinion. Or Munna leaning over Shai when she's asleep. Or the women on the train that Yasmin is filming. I could go on... but then I'd just be telling the whole movie. Suffice to say that every single shot in this movie tells a story, every image counts, and that is no small feat for a first time director.

When I heard that Dhobi Ghat was being filmed guerrilla style, with handheld cameras and moving shots, I was a bit terrified, because there's a right way to do this, but mostly I've seen it done the wrong way. Kiran, thankfully, got it right and I cannot praise her enough for this!

Secondly PRATEIK (BABBAR).

At the end of the screening when Aamir gave the mic to each of the actors to say a few words, before Prateik even touched the mic he got a long, loud, standing ovation from the audience. He was so shocked and overwhelmed that he literally was speechless. He tried to mumble a thank you to Kiran and I bet he would have had some very heartfelt words to say, but he was so choked up that he didn't manage to put two words together. It was beyond charming!!

Well, he stole the show, it's no secret. He had the audience's emotions in the palm of his hand: when he wanted us to laugh at his shyness, we did; when he wanted us to bite our fingers for his next move, we did; when he wanted us to be in love with him, we were; when he wanted us to pine with him, we did. An outstanding performance if I've ever seen one! Between Kiran's deeply intelligent script and Prateik's immensely intuitive acting, there was not much room for it to get better. 

And still it did, because then there's...


THE STORY.

It's been said enough times by now that this is not a Bollywood story. But I don't think that stops it from being an Indian story, and if Bollywood continues to do stories like this, then I am on board with this new wave of what Cameron Bailey reluctantly jokingly calls "hindie movies". In a way I can't help but compare Dhobi Ghat to Slumdog Millionaire because they both show various aspects of poverty in Mumbai. But Dhobi Ghat succeeds for me where Slumdog somewhat failed because it shows me the little things that make one happy despite the poverty, unlike Slumdog which was always focused on wanting more. Munna has his own world with its ups and downs, with things that make him sad and things that make him smile, but his life does not revolve around poverty, his life revolves around his feelings, as it should.

And I know I tend to talk more about Munna than about everyone else because he was the star of the show for me, followed closely by Yasmin's story, but make no mistake, this movie is about all four of them in equal measure. More importantly, this is a story about people. It's not about lessons learned or growing up, it's not about relationships created or maintained, it's not about finding yourself, it's not about careers or hobbies. It's just a series of snapshots of 4 people... living. And while that can sound boring, it's really not, because the film is so well crafted that much like in real life when someone is telling a good story, you keep asking: "and then what?"

And lastly AAMIR KHAN.

Without presuming to know what's really in this man's head, I will say that I think I know why Aamir so badly wanted to be in this movie instead of letting Kiran pick another fresh face. In a world where Om Shanti Om, Ghajini and 3 Idiots are blockbusters, a soulful movie like Kiran's would have probably gone unnoticed had it not been for the presence of her superstar husband. Sad, but true... At the same time, I appreciated that Aamir played the part in such a subtle way that, much like in Taare Zameen Par, Aamir The Actor was rightfully overshadowed by his costar and by the director. I know he could have made this his movie, but there's a reason why he didn't, there's a reason why he played the part that many other actors could have played without making it an Aamir exclusive role, and I like to think that generosity and love are that reason.

I won't give a rating to this movie because as I said, Dolce was left at home (actually I suspect she was one of the people who mobbed Aamir on the street there and then she probably snuck into the theatre and saw the movie anyway), but I will say: don't miss this when it comes out in theatres!

2 Degrees of Separation: The French Romantic Hero in Tollywood

This post is written in collaboration with Tollywood is My Bollywood’s Jjake, whose sister post you can find here. After reading her post, I’m not sure I will ever be able to see an adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo or The Three Musketeers without getting upset that the leads are not Prabhas, Mahesh, Arjun and the other boys… Make sure to check it out!

I haven’t written a 2 Degrees of Separation post in a long time, but I’ll have you know that this particular one is what prompted the series to begin with.

The Tollywood (and to a certain extent Kollywood) action hero has always intrigued and attracted me, and I always thought it’s not just because the actors are hot. Though, let’s face it, that is a pretty big part of it. For me what differentiates the Tollywood hero from say, the Hollywood action hero is his Romantic disposition. And I don’t mean romantic as an adjective, but as the movement that sits at the base of modern literature, dominating the second half of the 18^th century and the beginning of the 19^th, pretty much all across Europe.

As I was researching for this post I stumbled upon a very interesting old book called The Hero in French Romantic Literature. This book goes into quite a bit of depth defining the characteristics of the Romantic hero but the first thing that occurred to me while reading it was that, much like in Indian movies, there is a clear divide between the mass Romantic hero and the class Romantic hero. To my great disappointment the book focuses on the class one, whereas I find the mass hero to be the one closer to our Tollywood badasses, but luckily for me it’s mostly the appearance that differs, at the core, they’re both one and the same.

Before I go on, I should specify that I use the term class Romantic hero to refer to characters made famous by such authors as Victor Hugo, Honore de Balzac, F-A de Chateaubriand, Lord Byron, in other words, the stuff that you would study in a University Lit course. Whereas the mass hero is the creation of less critically acclaimed authors such as Alexandre Dumas Pere, Michel Zevaco, Ponson du Terrail, and a million other smaller writers who would publish each chapter of their heroic tales in the daily newspaper. The latter is the breed that interests us.

I am picturing the moment when the prototype of the Tollywood dishoom hero was created and wondering what were the building blocks that helped shape him. So let’s see, how do we build the perfect Romantic hero?

THE SKELETON: INDIVIDUALISM

Any Romantic hero is defined at his core by individualism and self-awareness, or in lighter terms: the Romantic hero is exceptional, and he damn well knows it. His uniqueness takes many forms, whether he is the misunderstood genius, or the frustrated poet, or the visionary who will rebel against society. Or, more often in mass literature, he is a good for nothing wanderer, possessing superhuman strength (and definitely some great sword wielding skills), quite a bit of wit, and an unhealthy amount of pride, all paired up with the obligatory scorn towards authority (be it political rulers or the church). But he is always different, a cut above the rest: we know that he is the hero from the first moment he appears in the story. Note however that just because he is the hero, he doesn’t always have to be good, in fact more often than not, he’s quite imperfect in his uniqueness.

In Tollywood, most of the above characteristics of the mass Romantic hero are kept as such, but just to make sure we get exactly how special he is, he invariably gets an intro song that talks about how badass he is. Here's a sample from the movie Athidi:

And here’s another awesome one, even if it doesn’t have subtitles. I’m sure it’s not very hard to figure out from the visuals that the lyrics go somewhere along the lines of “I’m so badass, so badass, there’s no one more badass than me… la la la”

THE FLESH: A DEVILISHLY CHARMING LOSER

The Romantic hero is handsome and kind hearted (even though he will usually try to play it tough), which results in him being always ready to help a damsel in distress, even when that derails his own plans. He is more often than not an orphan, and while we’d love to call him a self-made man, the truth is he hardly ever has money in his pouch and when he does, it goes just as easily as it came, usually to some inn keeper or another as nothing makes our heroes happier than a good meal washed down with a few bottles of wine. Ah… these Frenchies and their joie de vivre…

Of course, that must sound very familiar, since the Tollywood hero falls short in none of the above categories.  Except he replaces the bottles of wine with some glasses of hot chai, and the inns with the street, because more often than not we have no idea where the hero lives. Jjake goes into more detail about these parallels by assigning the best known French heroes a South Indian equivalent!

Another very important physical aspect the two kinds of heroes have in common is of course: the moustache! What would a Frenchman in the 18th century and a South Indian man in any century be without their moustache? Nothing I say, nothing! And just because Mahesh Babu gets away without one we will not be fooled, we know hero = moustache. Mahesh is just trying to trick us. We’re sure he grows one at night to stay as badass as he is!

No matter his physical appearance, it all boils down to the Tolly hero being cool as a cucumber and raw as a steak (uh-oh, did I just compare him to a piece of meat, Freudian slip, sorry about that), all while unsuccessfully trying to hide his soft side. (Unless of course he’s doing the opposite and stalking the heroine, but even then he plays it cool enough for the heroine to not figure out until the end that he’s really a softie and, of course, a great catch.)

THE AURA: A MAN OF FATE

Fate was an interesting concept in the 18^th– 19^th century, at a crossroads between the self-made man of the 20^th century and the religion governed one of the Middle Ages. But many Romantic heroes are conditioned by fate in one way or another, whether it’s because they have a higher destiny to fulfill or because fate has robbed them of their birth right.

Similarly the Tolly hero seems to be driven by forces above his will, whether it’s the need to avenge his family, or his past catching up with him. And unlike the Romantic class hero, but much like the Romantic mass hero, a tortured soul he’s not. He just takes it as it comes. He has no spleen, no anguish and usually knows how to look after himself. He may give up on some of life’s pleasures (such as pretty girls throwing themselves at him) for the sake of his mission, but he’s hardly ever bitter about it. Most of the times he’ll laugh it off and… we will too, because we know he’s still getting the girl in the end.

Sometimes, rather than being at the mercy of fate, the hero reverses the equation and becomes a changer of fates. This usually happens in films that focus more on the social message and perhaps less on the lead actor’s cuteness (Chakram and Chatrapathi with Prabhas; Dhool and Kanthaswamy with Vikram; Stalin, and from what I’ve gathered from descriptions, quite a few other Chiranjeevi movies). I’d have more examples if I were also interested more in the social message and less in the lead actor’s looks, but since I have yet to reach that high state of selflessness, I don’t.

THE FINISHING TOUCHES

Thinking about everything else that surrounds the hero and his story, I am picturing the conversation between Alexandre Dumas’ Ghost and the First Telugu Dishoom Storywriter going along these lines:

ADG: Monsieur, my stories are too French at heart to be adapted. How can you presume to do so?

FTDS: Rreyy, I dare you to find one element that we cannot translate into a South Indian movie.

ADG: I have evil dukes, jealous queens and mistresses, and cardinals who are up to no good.

FTDS: And we have evil goondas, underworld lords, jealous aunties, and all kinds of corrupt Ministers and Chief Ministers just waiting to chew some hero meat.

ADG: Hm… I also have family rivalries and backstabbing.

FTDS: That’s ok, we have factionists!

ADG: And what about the damsel in distress whose greatest asset is not her wit but her beauty and her virginity.

FTDS: Ah, for that we have Kajal!

ADG: I also have lyrical speeches and heart tugging emotional love scenes.

FTDS: Heh… Our script writers are not very good with that, but we’ll make do with plenty of songs, dances and sensual poses instead.

The Ghost of Alexandre Dumas has no choice but to slap his forehead and return to the darkness whence he came.

Of course, it’s more than likely that whoever came up with the Tollywood dishoom prototype had never read about Pardaillan, Bussy, Rocambole, La Mole and Edmond Dantes, but I don’t care, because that is how I like to think the Tollywood hero was invented! Jjake of course begs to differ, and you know… after giving it some thought, I could be persuaded to see things her way… 

While I ponder that some more, I leave you with my absolute favourite hero to come out of Alexandre Dumas' pen: Bussy d'Amboise from La Dame de Monsoreau.

Stalker Movies - All Michael Jackson's Fault!!

For anyone who doesn't know, because of course the world needs to know this, I've been on a Michael Jackson kick lately (primarily for his dancing, but also revisiting his music and finding new favourites). Since I know it could be months before I manage to create the post I have in mind illustrating how his influence is still to be found even today, alive and well, albeit very stylized, in the most modern forms of filmi dancing across the Indian film industries, I have to settle for a different post for the time being. But that doesn't mean this one doesn't also hold a special place in my heart.

India's adoration for Michael, that penetrated film industries from the North to the South, just may have finally given me an answer to the tantalizing question: what is it about these stalker movies that makes them so appealing to directors, actors and audiences alike. You know, movies like Deewana Mujhsa Nahin, Arya (and to a lesser extent a few other of Allu Arjun's movies, why, Arjun, why???), Fida (thank God for the twist in this one!), and this is just what I've watched because they were starring actors that I will watch in absolutely anything, no matter how bad. (No links provided as I would advise anyone to stay far away from these movies, so I have no intention of promoting them on this blog.) There's also Dil Se (which has other merits, so I found enough reasons to love it nonetheless) and a few Shah Rukh movies that so far I have successfully avoided, and I'm sure many others that will never come anywhere near my DVD player. This theme was all the rage circa late 80s - early 90s in Indian movies.

Make no mistake, we're not talking the horror movie type of stalking, or the emotionally unstable type of stalking. No, we're talking about movies where the great guy with a heart of gold falls madly in love with great girl, but she just can't seem to see that she also loves him (but of course! How can she not love him? What's knowing someone before you love them in this day and age anyways? Isn't a man who obsesses over you the most worthy of your affection? Duh!). So she gets pursued and emotionally blackmailed in the most creative ways, until she finally realizes that she loved him all along, usually after some drama where he almost gives his life for her.

What on earth is it, I would wonder, that makes people think this is sexy, attractive or even acceptable? And while I still don't have the answer to that one, I finally found someone to blame it all on when I was watching the video to Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel" (off the album "Bad" - 1987).

Here are the lyrics:

Hey pretty baby with the high heels on

You give me fever like I've never, ever known

You're just a product of loveliness

I like the groove of your walk,

Your talk, your dress

I feel your fever from miles around

I'll pick you up in my car and we'll paint the town

Just kiss me baby and tell me twice

That you're the one for me

The way you make me feel

You really turn me on

You knock me off of my feet

My lonely days are gone

I like the feelin' you're givin' me

Just hold me baby and I'm in ecstasy

Oh I'll be workin' from nine to five

To buy you things to keep you by my side

I never felt so in love before

Just promise baby, you'll love me forevermore

I swear I'm keepin' you satisfied

'Cause you're the one for me

....

A pretty cool love song you'd say, right? Ok, except for the part where he feels that in order to keep her by his side he has to buy her things, but whatever, what do I care how Michael keeps his loved ones close. But other than that, I wouldn't mind having this song dedicated to me by my boyfriend.

The problem is, once we get to watch the video, we realize that he's not her boyfriend. Moreover, she's a girl walking alone late at night (and wearing waaay too short a skirt for that kind of neighbourhood, as much as I am all for short skirts, but let's not get distracted by these details), who all of a sudden has Michael and a bunch of hoodlums all over her. And, outrage of outrages, at the end of the song, much like the Indian film heroines, she gets with him!!



And for some reason, as I was watching this I found myself thinking: can't blame her! If I had a guy dancing like Michael after me I'd probably be inclined to give him the time of day too! And that's when it hit me! That must be what all those actors, directors and scriptwriters were thinking too: if it works for Michael, why would it not work for a hero? They can dance (some of them anyway), they can lip sync to some soulful passionate lyrics, they have the looks (most of them anyway), yes, there's no reason why it wouldn't work! Ahem... Except... what looks good in a flirty 5 minute video with not much talking, gets completely ruined for me in a movie where they attempt to attach concepts like eternal love, passion, soulmates and, get this, gratefulness to this type of "relationship". So no, what works for Michael, definitely does not work for everyone else. Sorry Aamir, Shahid and Arjun...

But you know what, that's ok, because now it doesn't puzzle me anymore, from now on I can blame it all on the Michael Jackson craze! And while this could turn into a debate about the chicken and the egg (or not even, because surely the two have less in common than I like to think) I am too fascinated by the similarities to subject it to too much scrutiny. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

God I love that song!...

"Stalin" - Not the Comrade, the Telugu Movie

I got to Chiranjeevi backwards it seems. First I fell (hard!) for the nephew, Allu Arjun, who is such an immense joy to watch whether he’s dancing, acting, emoting, making faces or just… doing nothing (though that hardly ever happens). Then I started watching the son, Ram Charan Teja, who I think has a lot to work on in the acting department, but his prettiness and excellent dancing skills will keep me watching his movies. Then came another hopeless crush: the youngest nephew, Allu Sirish: smart, funny and adorable – seriously, what is there not to love about him? Last but not least, The Man himself with some badass guest appearances in Magadheera and Style. And finally, my first full feature: Stalin. W00t! The good thing about this twisted road is that I already knew I would love the guy, it was only a matter of getting proof for it.

And sure enough I did. I get it, I really do get it now why he’s The Man. Actually, wait… no, I don’t! Because there is no rational reason for it since he’s no looker at all, at first glance: pudgy face, big dog eyes, an annoyingly shapeless moustache and hairstyle, body rounded on all possible corners, no, definitely not my idea of a charmer.

On top of that, since this is a newer movie, his dancing ain’t all that either. Coming from the peak of Allu Arjun fandom, I’m not easily impressed anymore, even though I know I’m being unfair to the man: he is in his 50s after all (and I am more than willing to have my mind blown and eat my words on this one).

Even so, I have to admit there is definitely something something there…

If I had to put my finger on it, I'd say the most notable feature that distinguishes The Man from the other Tolly and Kolly Boys is that when he’s being badass, it’s no joke. He’s not hot and badass like Prabhas, or cool and badass like Mahesh, or cute and badass like Arjun, or even virile and badass like Vikram. No, he’s just seriously Badass. So when he comes into the frame punching someone’s dentures all the way to Teeth-heaven, you buy it. No choice, no distractions. And did I mention he wears the coolest footwear too?

Back to the movie: this is Tollywood, so the plot is not much different than the usual fare, though better than most: superhero of the hood, righter of wrongs and chief of the swoon-inducing brigade, we are introduced to Stalin (who was named thus because his father was a hardcore fan of communism, which, coming from an ex-communist country myself I found absolutely hysterical) and his hardcore mother through the innocent eyes of a village girl who comes looking for a job. What job, we never get to find out, but we get distracted soon enough by the heroine, played by Trisha who does an excellent “job” dancing in fantasy songs with Chiru every 20 minutes or so, which is definitely something that I would pay her for.

Namak: Isn’t it a bit creepy that he’s in his 50s and Trisha is a 20 something?

Dolce: You know, I know I should find it creepy, but for some reason, I don’t. He seems sort of ageless to me. Doesn’t look young, for sure, but he doesn’t look that old either…

Namak: Ahem… You really scare me sometimes…

The rest of the plot revolves around some personal vendetta lead by the chief bad guy played by Prakash Raj with a ridiculously delightful wig, as well as a remake of sorts of the movie Pay It Forward (same concept anyway, though I'm sure director Murugadoss will deny it).

Prakash Raj in one of his funniest (unintentionally) avatars

Stalin is hardly a rowdy like most heroes these days. In fact he has made a mission out of helping people who cannot help themselves, so he writes exams for two girls: one is blind, one lost both her arms in an accident. And while this situation could easily get either filmi or grotesque, it really doesn’t. Probably because the two girls do an excellent job in coming across as real people. The scene where one of them has to go in the street and beg passers-by to help her write her exam (because Stalin was writing the other girl’s at the same time) is extremely emotional. As is the scene showing the consequences of people’s failure to help her.

And how easy would it be to fall into the trap of overindulging in melodrama after these two moments? Well, again, to my great surprise they don’t. The highlight of the movie for me is the subsequent scene where a group of crippled boys are racing in a school event and one of them falls down during the race. I refuse to ruin the scene for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie, but it is very touching.

Dolce: I don’t see how you would fail to be touched by such a moment. In any movie.

Namak: Actually, I usually have a very hard time reacting the way I am supposed to when a movie shows handicapped people. For example in Taare Zameen Par during the title song I was cringing the whole time. I knew I was expected to become emotional, but something felt fake about it, like those children were put on display to sensitise me, they were used to manipulate my emotions. And that doesn’t fare well with me.

Dolce: Blasphemy! You did not just say that about an Aamir Khan movie!

Namak: I did, as a matter of fact. I love TZP just as much as the next person, but that song had no business being there except, as I said, to manipulate the viewer. And if you’re going to manipulate me, you have to be a bit more subtle than that.

Dolce: I’m not sure I want to know you anymore, that’s a heartless thing to say.

Namak: Well, too bad, you’re stuck with me at least until the end of this post.

Back to our scene from Stalin, what sets it apart from other similar situations is that we are not shown this race to feel sorry for these kids. Quite the contrary, we are expected to cheer for them and learn from them, and that I can empathise with.

On the opposite side of the emotional spectrum, my movie experience was enhanced (and to a certain extent ruined at the same time) by another scene towards the end where a crowd of some thousands of people is shouting the hero’s name. Had his name been another, it would have been a very touching scene. But because the writers decided to baptize him after the best known Communist leader, the above situation felt so quintessentially wrong that it made me laugh hysterically, while also transporting me 20 something years back to my childhood. So you could say I enjoyed this scene… for all the wrong reasons.

And speaking of scenes I enjoyed, Chiru's entrance is as always, worth a mention. If there's one thing Tollywood kicks everyone else's butt in, it's OTT character intros. Pure adrenaline rush! I have yet to find one that doesn't get me to cheer on my couch!


Funnily enough I realize I have managed to name less than a third of the reasons that make this movie well worth a watch, but for the sake of concision, I'll just end this saying: take my word for it!

On the whole, Stalin was like a platter of assorted gourmet cheeses: a lot of different tastes, that don't necessarily all belong together, but each one delights you in its own way. You'll definitely remember quite a few of them at the end of the tasting.

Varudu & Vivah - To Arrange or... To Arrange

The topic of arranged marriages... much debated and much hated in Indian movies of the past decade. And yet here are two movies, one from Bollywood (Vivah starring Shahid Kapoor and Amrita Rao), and one from Tollywood (Varudu starring Allu Arjun, Arya and Bhanu Mehra) that try to show us all the reasons why arranged marriages are not to be dismissed as traditional crap. Or do they?

First of all it's interesting to note that neither of these movies actually deals with the arranged marriage per se, but rather with the arranging part and then the love at first sight between the girl and the boy getting married. So the issue of love after marriage never comes up, except in conversation, and it's replaced by love just before (or during) the wedding ceremony. Ironically enough, a movie like Arya 2 makes a stronger case for love coming after "marriage" through a couple of well placed blink-and-you'll-miss-it dialogues between Arya and the bride's grandmother. But I digress...

Exhibit Number 1 for love at first sight, during their first meeting:


And Exhibit Number 2, during the wedding ceremony (the whole song is worth a watch, but what interests us starts around the 7:00 mark):


The second fascinating observation for me is that Varudu was the first official flop in Arjun's career, while Vivah was the first big hit (and a much needed one) in Shahid's career after his debut. And as per usual, I fail to understand the audiences that made this happen because I loved Varudu and hated Vivah. Despite being a huge fan of both lead actors. In fact I have to apologize in advance as I confess: I have not watched Vivah in a while, so there may be slight inaccuracies in my review, my memory is not what it used to be...

So... the plot. Since it's very similar, I'll go over it quickly for both movies, as I'm more interested in getting to the part where I figure out why one rocked my world and the other one bored me to tears. Young and eligible cool city dude is asked by the parents (or the one parent in Vivah) to think about marriage. In Vivah the bride has already been found, in Varudu cool city dude asks to be found one as he is incapable of finding one himself (even with women throwing themselves at him like rice at a married couple from the very first scene).

Dolce: That's a bit harsh, don't you think?

Namak: I know, but remember we know a couple of people in real life who have reached the same conclusion and have turned to their parents to find someone for them, so maybe not so far fetched after all.

Right, back to the plot. In the middle of the wedding joy/ right after the wedding, something happens with the bride. And I won't reveal what, suffice to say it is a life altering experience that puts everything in balance, and that will be the true test of the groom's short lived but hopefully strong enough love.

So with a premise so similar, what makes these two movies so different? What makes one a flop and the other a success? Charming leads, nice chemistry, wonderful costumes, what gives?

Dolce: Well, for starters, there's no dancing in Vivah.

Namak: Sure, that's true, but there's no dancing in many Hindi movies these days and I still like some of them. Granted the songs in Varudu are pretty spectacular so it automatically gets points just for that. But what else?

Dolce: Um... the leading lady is boring and has no personality.

Namak: Well, she is boring, I agree, but we don't see much of the stronger lady in Varudu either, so that can't be it.

Dolce: Oh, oh, I know, I know! Vivah didn't have Arya!

Namak: Aha, you may be on to something there!

One of the greatest things about Varudu is that it has a wonderfully over the top villain. In fact so great that he could easily be on the list of Top 5 Villains of 2010.
Take a look and tell me: can a villain be more badass than this?


Really, can the jealous auntie from Vivah even compete with this on the entertainment level?

But it's not just the villain. It's also the way the story is paced. Vivah has people sitting around the table and talking for a good 70% of the time. Another 40% is the soon to be bride and groom batting eyelashes at each other. The 10% that is the difference is time when both the talking and the gazing are happening.
In the same amount of time time, Varudu has 5 and a half fights and 4 songs while still managing to get the people around the proverbial tables to do their talking. Granted, it gets stingy on the coy glances, but makes up for it with an oddly placed but still very enjoyable kissing scene. Efficiency, I tell you, efficiency!

Actually, one of the few coy glances is well worth the wait.

Namak: Now before you get all mushy on me, don't forget the CGI!

Dolce: Ah yes, the crazy fake CGI. Loved it! But, to be fair, I also enjoyed the sets in Vivah quite a bit.

Namak: It's ok, Vivah made up for the realism of the sets by having a ridiculously implausible plot twist.

Indeed, there's that too! A movie like Varudu can pull off a series of crazy plot twists (or plot holes, if you prefer) because it goes with the rest of the wacky mood of a film that makes it clear it doesn't take itself too seriously. Vivah on the other hand spends the first hour or so building this realistic scenario, to then ridicule it by inserting an intelligence insulting plot twist. And that just doesn't fly.

Namak: Ok, stop just for a second here. I think we're making it sound like Varudu is a great movie and Vivah is not even worth the roll that it was recorded on.

Dolce: Yup. And?...

Namak: Well, that's not exactly true. Varudu has plenty of issues too, and Vivah has its share of nice moments.

Dolce: Whatever. One is fun the other is not, that's all that matters.

Right... I suppose that is what it comes down to: Varudu is a fun ride, if not always smooth or logical. Vivah for all the oodles of charm of Shahid and Amrita holding hands, misses on the fun front. Big time.

Do they both also make some interesting social commentaries and some excellent points about the institution of marriage? Yes, they do. But if I can't keep my eyes open long enough to get to them while watching Vivah, then that's a waste of a movie in my book.

Vivah and Varudu are like Havarti cheese. The regular no-name kind is about as boring as chewing on a mouthful of air. The spicy version on the other hand, infused with with some yummy herbs and hot peppers has the much needed oomph to make it into my shopping bag every once in a while.