Pure Passion

Inception: The number of questions exceed the number of answers by one

2011-10-11T08:16:00.000-07:00

One of themore interesting thing about dreams is they do not play out like a conventionalstory. They are at best carelessly stitched vignettes that at times speakthrough their absurdity more than by anything else. Idiosyncrasy is central tomajority of dreams. And so is departing out of order.

“ Dreams feel real while we’re in them. It’s only when wewake up that we realize something was actually strange”, saysCobb to Ariadne. It is quite clear that Nolan is obsessed with this particularfacet of dreams. He is constantly endeavoring to erase the line between dreamsand reality and thereby forcing the characters to question themselves. Hevery astutely places his characters in a world where they emotionallyinvest themselves and then slowly tracks back to show the world neverexisted. This is the single most frustrating thing about dreams too, you investyourself so much emotionally, but when you wake up you can’t make much of them.

The best way to make sense of the movie is to be steadfast toone plane of reality at least. Otherwise, it just becomes a nested loopwhich is even more complex to fathom. Lynch in Mulholland Drive subtlydifferentiates between dreams and reality mostly via the use of colors, andNolan does it in Inception sometimes by means of quite unnaturalarchitecture, sometimes by means of physics defying universe. Nolan’s conceptof dreams is quite literal here. However, he doesn’t concentrate much on hisreal world too, so we can never be entirely sure of what is real and what isdream. So any attempt to deconstruct the movie should be first attempted with abasic premise of what world is real, although I am pretty sure most people willagree on the first base of their real world, that is the world where Cobbis given an assignment to plant an idea into Fischer’s mind that would enablehim to go back to his family again.

One of the major thing I was wary about the movie was the factthat Nolan might have been just too clinical for the film’s own good, tooobsessed on the technical finesse of the plot and in the processdepriving the audience an emotional connect with the characters. However,Nolan surmounts this by making the protagonists as vulnerable andrugged as perfect and deeply layered the world they wish to penetrate.

I was also worried that the movie might be neatly executed at acerebral level but would ail from a rather hollow heart. Or, Nolan would try tocover it up by adding a parallel track that would be a Mcguffin of sorts. But,he doesn’t do all that. By introducing Cobb, a character with a troubledand closeted past, he seamlessly merges the two worlds of dreams into one,thereby both stories not playing out in exclusive to each other but rather in aqueer way as a function of each other.

What is even more interesting is our allegiance to a particularcharacter pretty much shapes our own movie experience. The movie can beanalyzed from an entirely different perspective if we give into one character rather than the other. Who do you believe more? Andwhat world do you see from their eyes? There can always be things we canbelieve in, but nothing we can be sure of. Can Cobb be trusted enough? I am notsure I have the answer to that question after just one viewing. And thatis just one of the strands that Nolan has left loose.

At a certain plane, everything is as real as we want it to be.That was what underlined the protagonist’s motive in Memento too. We make peacewith ourselves to construct a moat of truth around us. And we live happily in it,safely sheltered by ignorance.

Multiple viewing would make things clearer relatively and therecollection from the first viewing can only be very dream like – at best vagueand roughly concocted. And that is the beauty of the movie, Nolan doesn’t makeit mind numbingly complex to turn off the audience, rather he just keeps thecarrot dangling by adding back stories that keeps the audience interestedenough to speculate and propound.

And for all the people debating whether the totem spinning wouldhave fallen or not, consider this: Cobb finally comes back, sees his kid’s faceand holds him up in his arms. In the same frame the totem is still spinning,juggling between the two worlds. Cobb penetrated different levels of dream(orat least, that’s what he thought they were) to get what he really wanted.The totem is still spinning, but he doesn’t turn back. He got what he wanted.And then Nolan blacks out the screen. Our lives look like a sweet dream when weare with people we love the most. So, why do you even care whether the totemwould have fallen or not? Cobb does not any longer.

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

Dhobi Ghat: Some scenes that stayed with me

2011-10-11T08:14:00.000-07:00

Some scenes stay with you, like the satisfaction of a fulfilledpromise. I will share couple of scenes from Dhobi Ghat that made me sit up andtake notice, and were the pivotal factors behind me loving the movie. They runas follows:

Scene #1 Munnacomes to Shai’s house to return her cloth he inadvertently tampered. He hasrectified his mistake and salvaged himself. She calls him inside. To understandthe essence of the scene completely, let’s trace the backgroud of both thecharacters. Shai is an Investment Banker in USA who has come to India on asabbatical. She is a bit romantic (aren’t all hobbyists are?), is easilycharmed by life, and faces any new experience with alacrity. Then, there isMunna. He is a Dhobi (washer-man). Munna does not even understand whatsabbatical means, nor would he probably ever understand. He would also probablynever understand the concept of ‘a new perspective’, because when the mostrudimentary desires begs for attention, you are in a bubble battling that and cannotafford to look beyond it. Kiran Rao brings these two representatives of theirrespective world together — in one roof, bonds them over a cup of coffee andweaves a beautiful scene.

The conversation begins by Shai asking Munna, So you like Doors?(Munna is wearing a Doors t-shirt). For Shai, even simple attire is a mode ofexpression, some sort of silent declaration to the world regarding one’stastes. But, does that mean anything to Munna? For him clothes hold a basicmeaning — to cover. For all we know, he might have picked it up just because itlooked colorful or dhinchaak.

She asks him, So, you are from Mumbai? He replies in negative.He came to Bombay in want of food and has since stayed here. Does he not misshis family, she ponders. Was he not happy with his family there? Munna hasnebulous concept of happiness. Being famished as a child, he simplisticallyequated happiness with the amount of food he used to get. And he used to getway too less. It is a quite sagacious comment on one’s happiness with respectto one’s earning potential. Many a times, the more people earn, the moreavenues they seek to be unhappy. Damn! I need that perfect sofa.Once the perfect sofa is acquired, they need that perfect coffee table to goalong with it, then that perfect rug, then that promotion, then keeping abalance between the work life and personal life… . Shai’s India’s trip is a quest forchecking one of those boxes. So, here are the representative of two differentworlds, where every stroke — be it natural or manmade (will come to it in thenext scene) stands for something strikingly different.

The conversation trudges along and Munna’s hovering eyes noticesthe camera kept on the table. Are you a photographer? He asks. And then hegazes at the couple of camera lenses on the table. It is a poignantjuxtaposition of two different worlds. Munna whose life had been hostage tohunger pangs, for whom creative satisfaction is an alien concept. How do youexplain sabbatical to someone whose aim in life (and even that’s not as easilyachieved) has been to secure two meals for himself throughout the day? That isthe spirit of any metropolis teeming with millions, if you take your camera andrun amok with it, and freeze various moments of life captured, this is what youwill get. Dreams criss crossing with each other, each on a different level andsatiated by a different yardstick. This is the most emphatic achievement of themovie. The soul of Dhobi Ghat lies in these poignant moments stitched together.Kiran Rao doesn’t judge the protagonists here, neither does her camera (no excruciatinglyclose up shots trying to milk the pathos), she just puts things as they are.She observes like an innocent, inquisitive kid, simply trying to understand howand why certain things are, the way they are.

Scene #2 Mumbairains. They have been delineated so many times in movies that over the timethey have both become a cinematic device and cliche. But, here Mumbai rainsserve a different purpose. In this scene, Arun uses Mumbai’s rain as an aide tosmooth his evening (He uses rain drops to soften his whiskey), the same rain insome other part of the city is wreaking havoc on Munna’s house. Even Mumbairains acquire a different meaning for disparate Mumbai denizens. Human beingsbe damned, even the rain Gods are partisan.

Scene #3 In thisparticular scene, Agnes (Shai’s housekeeper) wonders why Shai frequents outwith Munna. She is at loss to explain what she wants to convey clearly. I mean,he is dhobi, can’t you freaking see? You could almost see Agnes saying thisaloud. For her that should be reason enough. In Scene #1, she brings Coffee forMunna in a glass (She serves Coffee to Shai in a Coffee mug). So what if Shaican’t see the difference?

Scene #4 Why doesMunna not kiss Shai? Arun and Shai had a moment together, and their nightculminated into a predictable finale. What does stop Munna from seizing themoment here? Is it the apprehension of facing an awkward moment if Shai rebuffshim? Or, is it something different? This scene would have had a differentflavor to it if Munna and Shai were sharing the same societal pedestal. But,they are not. We as an audience cannot see them having a future together. How canMunna?

Scene #5 I feltuncomfortable for a moment in the aforementioned first scene where Munna wasstanding in Shai’s living room. Would she offer him a seat? Would he sit on theground? Would he just stand? There has to be some differentiang factor betweena Banker and Washer-man? No? She offers him a seat. He sits. The conflict isresolved readily and easily. But, then during one of Shai’s night outs, she issitting in the front seat of her friend’s car and she spots Munna standing somedistance away with his street peddler friend. Would Shai invite him to hang outwith her friends? Would Shai welcome him in the car? (As she did when they werehanging out together) Shai does not even extend a hello to him. Why? Who is shemore ashamed of at this instant? Of herself? Of Munna? Of her and Munna’sfriendship? Or, the equation she shares with her friends? (“He is just a Dhobiya!”). What does Shai do ultimately? She tilts her head and sinks into herseat, oblivious of the world that exists on the other side of the car.

The car zips into that part of the city where the partycontinues till morning. Munna dissolves into a different night of the samecity. He has more pressing concerns to address at the moment. He has to takecare of some rats.

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

World Cinema:A world like no other.

2011-10-05T06:37:00.000-07:00

Ikiru (To Live):

Watnabe knows he will die. Soon. But, it is not death that scares the wits out of him. It is life. His life. A lifetime of wasted opportunity. A life of failed expectaions would have been still better. His was a life of no expectations. A life wasted behind the pile of emotionless papers. He didn't miss even a single day of his office in the work span of 29 years, 11 months. Stamp after stamp after stamp after stamp after stamp after stamp...

A life that carried out recursive functions, without any goal and purpose in sight. A life that associated no joy or sorrow with the rising sun, with the star studded night, with anything. A life that was so listless, that it was not even life at all. These things come rushing back to him, when he is diagonised with stomach cancer and he knows, he only has half a year or year at maximum. To live.

Now, he desperately wants to cling on something. Anything. He doesn't know how. He wants to decorate his life in all the ways he possibly can. The miser even withdraws his hard earned 50,000 yen, because he wants to enjoy. At any cost. He goes places for seeking that elusive thing, happiness. No matter how transient or superfecial it may be. Places, he would have never even imagined going. Because, he hadn't given his life even a chance before. He had closed the doors to happiness ages ago, and when now life is actually closing door on him, he wants to sneak through and live it. Live it all. Like never before.

He meets the girl from his office who is a bundle of exuberance, and exudes contagious joy. Watnabe is both envious and happy to see her. She unconsciously leads Watnabe to discover himself, what he really wants to do the rest of his life. Of doing atleast one thing in his life he is proud of.

Kurosawa's sensitive lens meets Hashimoto's poignant story in this stunning movie. Such is Kurosawa's brilliance that he doesn't speak much, but even then he speaks volumes. I had merely heard about the art of silence, with Ikiru I have experienced it. Kurosawa's brilliance is not only mind numbing, it is also heart warming in the same breath. The penultimate shot shows Watnabe, hours before his death, on a swing, with a smile on his lips. Lively than ever before. The smile of a satisfied man. The satisfaction of having atleast lived a live. The satisfaction of him being able to provide something of value to others.

Because, that is what Ikiru is all about. It is not about death, it is not about questioning it's inevitability. It is about life. It is about having a purpose, it is about keeping the flame alive in our hearts. It is about the skip in our walk, it is about still being a kid at heart. It is about embracing those little things that we so forget in our busy, daily lives. It is about having a dream, and then doing anything to fulfill it.

Below is the lyrics of the song, that Watnabe sings during some of the scenes of the movie:

life is brief.

fall in love, maidens

before the crimson bloom

fades from your lips

before the tides of passion

cool within you,

for those of you

who know no tomorrow

Chungking Express

There are some movies that numb you, some leave you awestruck by its novelty, some inspire you, some make you laugh your gut out, some make you cry. But, I had never fallen in love with a movie. Not until I saw Chungking Express. This is not a critique of the movie in any way. This is my love letter to Chungking Express. Very few things, let alone movies have given me the pure inherent joy, as much as this movie did. So much beauty is packed into even the minutest of frame that you want to choke yourself with happiness. It is very difficult to describe what it feels like. It is an awful personal experience. Quentin Tarantino, once said in his own inimitable style with respect to this movie, “This movie made me cry. Not because the movie was sad, but, because I was amazed how much I could love any movie.”

The movie begins rather gloomily to a lovelorn cop, and takes us through protagonist’s same predicament in the second story too, but there is an unmistakable strong thread of hope that runs through both the stories. Hope is really an amazing thing. It is free and comes in many forms. For Cop 223 it came in the forms of Pineapple cans. He broke up with his girlfriend on the 1st April and gave 30 days to the relationship by purchasing a pineapple can that expires on the 1st May, each day of the month. If she doesn’t come by the 1st of May,the relationship would expire as would the pineapple cans, he believes. Through his soliloquy, he questions whether every tangible or intangible thing in this world comes with an expiry date? That is one question, that raises some circuituitous answers.

She doesn’t come to him and thus, on 1st May, he eats all the pineapple cans and consequently becomes sick. Relationships, if turned to stomach disorder, should be flushed down the toilet. He finally decides to fall out of love by falling in love (A debatable concept, but, won’t go into that for now!).

Even the protagonist of the second story (cop 663) keeps hoping and waiting for his love to turn up. Foolishly wishing she would leap out of the closet and surprise him. If only wishes structured the outcome of things in life. Meanwhile he keeps meeting the shy May at the Express restaurant, his past doesn’t let go of him to even think about the present. May harbors feeling for him, but their story doesn’t venture via the normal boy-meet-girl caper. Infact, almost bowing to an idealistic definition of love, she just keeps him happy without even being with him. That is where Chungking Express packs a punch, it goes to the idealistic realms of love without being corny. She tidies his apartment, as if the soaps, towels and goldfish are the only way of stepping into the inaccessible 663’s life, and she is happy doing that. She represents the change in his life. In truly one of the movie’s most ironic and poignant scenes, the cop 663 stands in front of the closet hoping to be surprised by his girlfriend. But, nothing of the sort happens. Instead, we see May hiding in the closet. Dejected on not getting any reply, the cop turns back. How often have we been near to love only to turn our back against it?

The movie scoops out dollops of realism moments before its ending. When the cop 663 expresses his desire of dating her, May agrees. She reaches the place of the date and is about to meet the cop 663. About to have an interesting conversation with the man, whose inanimated life she has changed. From a distance. Would the conversation be interesting? She is shy, what would she speak? Does she have butterflies in stomach? Does she see herself or 663? Or, herself and 663? Together? What does she see and think. None of the above. She sees the name of the restaurant she is headed towards, and possibly a beginning of a new life for her. She sees the name of the restaurant emblazoned in golden colours – California. It is raining. She sees the water droplets caressing her most beautiful dream, as if they were her messengers. Now, she sees herself and decides. Obviously, Wong Kar Wai doesn’t sketch the details for us, but the close up of the the california for few seconds is enough to get what is being said. She decides amidst all this, she has been missing herself. She wants to love 663, but, not by compromising herself. She decides its not time. Not yet. She leaves something for the cop 663.

True to her promise, May returns to cop 663. In a fitting display of roles reversal, he is working in the Express restaurant in the same fashion May used to (the loud california dreamin’ song blaring on). May walks in carrying with herself not only a calm satisfaction of having giving this relationship the requisite time, but also living her the life way she always wanted to, so as to carry no regretfull What-ifs of the past. The destination of the economic class boarding pass is unknown. But, it has two passengers. In love.

P.S : I have never believed and will never believe in quantitative estimation of a movie. However, this time I will make an exception.
Rating – 6/5.

Hable Con Ella (Talk to Her):

There are people in this world who judge you. There are people in this world who understand you. In fact, let’s not attach any hues with either the former or the latter. These are just some of the few things that exist. You are free to take a seat on any side of the pan. Point of view can be a strange thing. It can transform a human being to a monster, and vice-versa. In fact, who is who? We can be conditioned to see different things, and feel them in a certain way, judge them by the restricted parameters where there is not much scope for sinking into other person’s shoes.

It is very, very difficult to divorce idealism from love. Also, it is a very thin line. In this territory, virtue can be seamlessly bartered with corniness. For me one of the fascinating things about Chungking Express was that it tread that line of idealism sans any flaws. Same holds true for Talk to Her.

The movie opens to a concert dance which shows two women dying, and a man trying to restore order or increase disorder in their life. Depends on how you may want to view it. This is pretty much similar to what happens in the later part of the movie. Benigno comes back from the emotionally draining concert only to dive in an equally disturbed world of his own. Today is not special for him, it is just one of those nights when she is lying on a bed, stone like, motionless. Dead. Well, almost.What does he do in such a case? It’s pretty simple. He talks to her. While washing her hair, her body, filing her nails, all he does is talk to her. Nothing special, nothing profoundly moving, nothing remotely even worth remembering and recounting.

There is a difference in which we see Alicia and the way in which Benigno sees her. There is one overhead shot where Alicia’s clothes are being changed, and we are only shown Alicia’s body being wrapped by clothes. We, as audience, obviously see Alicia as a mechanical unit, incapable of giving and receiving love, sometimes to an extreme even callously wondering as to why there is so much fuss over someone who is practically dead? Ironically, for Benigno she is his life.

Well, did he rape her? Try asking him this. He might have just been making love, he would reply. Can love really push someone to the edge of insanity? That is the beauty of Almodovar’s movies. He makes his charactersseemingly normal. There are always two worlds. One on the surface, and the one under it. Benigno could just be any guy when he is introduced to us, but then using a series of flashback Almodvar corrodes the paint from the facade and brings out the real him. It would not have been half effective, had the movie been loyal to chronology.

Benigno’s love for Alicia defies the conventional boundaries. It is madness, his friend tells him. But, haven’t our own madness been sheltered and consoled by the oft quoted “If it is not madness, it is not love”? He would unhesitatingly accept her as who she is. No questions asked. It never bothered him that her brain is dead, because he knew that a major part of his insignificant, humdrum life in the last four years has gone in talking to her. He talks to her as if she is there, listening patiently, smiling contently.

Almodovar effectively uses the silent movies that Benigno goes to mirror his state of mind. The movie he goes to see is titled ‘Shrinking Lover’, where a man(Alfredo) shrinks in size so much with respect to his lover that he is unable to make love to her(in a conventional sense, at least!). Benigno is not much different from Alfredo. He wants to love Alicia, but he is incapable of loving. Months looking from the window, years nurturing her in a dead-like state. Yet, he is zilch to her. And as he narrates the story of the movie to Alicia, in the strangest and the most poignant of scenes, it looks as if the ever-vulnerable-parched-from-love Benigno is losing grip over himself by each passing second and strangely almost-dead Alicia looks in supreme control. That has been the sum-total of their relationship. If at all it could be called that. Benigno was never in control even in life, while Alicia even in a comatose state held the strings. It is this forever imbalance that pushed Benigno further.

And then there is Marco, whose life inter cuts with Benigno’s. Marco is visibly frustrated with his inability to communicate with his wife who suffers from the same problem as Alicia’s. Benigno offers an uncluttered explanation –Talk to Her.Really, if at all instead of harboring their parallel world, people would come out and talk, confusion, melancholy would not be swept coldly under the rug, rather they will see the light of each other’s feelings. However contradictory, however caustic. This supreme metaphor is almost an antithesis of Almodovar’s many movies. This is what makes this movie so unlike his previous works.

One of the most striking feature of this movie is that it is difficult to bracket it. And it is not a mean feet. For a movie that runs for 110 minutes, it gives plenty of slices to relish. Different people can take different things from this movie. It is the various sub-plots in the movie that makes it even more profound. What is the movie really about? Loneliness? Friendship? Unusual love? Also, after a subtle revelation in the movie, it seems as if Almodovar is teasing us with childish glee, throwing the question at us again and again: So, whose side you are on? Benigno? Or, the people who judged him? Whose side is Alicia is supposed to be (if at all she comes to know)?

And then Benigno crosses the line, probably for the last time. In the heartbreaking climax, Beningo writes to Marco. The camera moves over to the barbed wires of the Jail. How different was it from the window of his own room from where he used to gape at Alicia, daily? The biggest, thickest and the most insurmountable barriers are the ones we create for ourselves. Benigno created one for himself and it finally took more than a dozen pills to break free from it. Although according to him he was not even trying to break free. He was going back. To himself, to Alicia, to the ‘we’. As he writes in his letter to Marco, to “reunite with Alicia in coma”. Almost as a matter of fact. Little does he know, she came crawling out from the coma, on that faint dim of hope that Benigno had infused her with in those four years. And she does not even know it. Neither does he.

Benigno’s expectations from life had been fairly modest. Even now, he just wanted Marco to ‘Talk to Him’. Because, he had never been talked to. He was the one, who invariably used to do all the talking. It is his time to listen now. As the movie draws to a close, there are three world and its inhabitants. Marco, obviously distraught by trusting ‘the correct people who judged Benigno’ rather than his own judgement. His only redemption is to live in a room that had promises of Benigno-Alicia relationship. Yes, just that. Promises. Alicia’s world is insulated from her past. She would never get a chance to even contemplate whether ‘Benigno’ meant any harm or not. Infact, more so, it was Benigno who never got a second chance to reiterate this fact to Alicia. And then there is Benigno, waiting to be talked to. Just about anything.

Up in the Air - Wanting to belong

2010-02-19T13:13:00.000-08:00

Every year in February, several companies feature in my university’s career fair. Various students throng the diverse colored corporate booths with a resume in hand, and lots on their mind. If you happened to be standing close to one of my friend, you would hear his perfect pitched voice talking to a recruiter. “Hello Sir! My name is xyz and I am working towards my Electrical Engineering degree. My specialty lies in….” and then he rattles on, and on and on. He is tensed, but also hopeful. How do you talk to someone when you think the person you are talking to has the power of making or breaking your life? (truth be told, there is nothing as such as making or break one’s life, and ideally our correct evaluations can come from only within ourselves. But then we hardly believe what we were once taught in our Moral Science class.) Would you be nervous? A nod here, a nod there. A touch too polite, a firm handshake, that amount of correct smile that is not servile but neither overtly confident.

But, when his monologue of achievement ends and he basks in a momentarily smugness of self achievement with some obvious nervousness, his heart breaks when he listens the recruiter speak – “I am sorry, but our company does not hire international students.” Or,” I am sorry but we are not hiring any electrical engineering interns this year. But, we encourage you to submit our resume to our database and we will contact you once your talent meets our requirement.” He just realizes that his monologue echoed back to gibe him. And on top of it, the recruiter says it with just an appropriate amount of correct smile on her lips. Beatific but not comforting. Or, when he opens that e-mail which has the subject of a company’s name, his heart leaps, dilates with hope he had only heard about only to be surprised by being crushed under it. And then so it begins “We regret to inform you that…” And that’s where it began, and that’s where it ends. A whole breath between congratulations and regret, success and failure, crossing the line and missing it.

The disillusionment of my batch mates is still not that bad. Where does it stand with the disappointment of a 57 year old guy who just got laid off? Where does the disillusionment of a 22 year old compare to that of a single mother who finds it difficult to face her daughter. And she sits opposite to a glib talker of a balanced disposition. He sits with an aura of unsettling serenity and discusses her ‘future options’. Just like that recruiter my friend met at the career fair, that familiar smile embellishing his lips. While that recruiter wishes my friend “best of luck in your future endeavors”. Ryan simply says “not to take it personally”. That false comforting smile comes naturally to him. One of the major things Up in the Air fleetingly touches in its opening frames and also in the midst of it. Disappointment. And its escalation by lies. Smooth lies.

The movie is not as much about people losing jobs in the crunch economic situation today per se. But, it has more to do with wiping that invisible barrier, which relegates us to bottom and deprives us from getting what we want. And it could be anything. It has more to do with the ‘you are not welcome’ board one encounters in life so very often. Be it at that company you want to work for, or were working but have now been let gone. Or, be it about that emotional stability that you want. The movie is about deprivation in any form. Tangible or intangible.

Retiman weaves poignant ironic scenes that echoes the sentiments of ‘You seldom get something you really want’. They come back to you when you bask indifferently in their presence. Like that 10 million miles moment. The moment for Ryan. The moment he had rehearsed and played it over in his head. But, he couldn’t care less for it when it actually dawned on him. Because, may be for the first time he can judge it by what it really is – just a number. Why have the lives of most imperfect beings structured like that? This movie is about that. About the deconstruction, in fact a retro-gradation of a seemingly perfect man who fires people with disquieting ease to his own gradual emotional bankruptcy.

It’s not as if the movie is not ridden with its share of cliches. The most notable being, underscoring the supreme importance of love, where an Ivy-League passed out go getter’s life is first dictated and then almost shaken by love. Thus, in a way not showcasing its importance, but making it a wont and hence exaggerating it. Arguably it may be true, but is nothing new. And Alex’s character has inconsistencies galore. Someone who treats Ryan just as parentheses would not (or want to) hold hands with him at his school’s stairs and moreover definitely not attend his sister’s wedding at the least.

It’s also about that specific something in our mind, but without contesting its merit. Without even thinking about it, and worse without even questioning it. Just like that 10 million air miles Ryan has in mind. By doing that he is enslaving himself to that vicious cycle he can never live independently of. It always comes back to haunt and question him – keep me in mind just for the heck of it. Natalie gives a rather uncluttered answer – “If I had that much miles, I would just pick a place and go”. Or, even that Bag-pack theory he carries himself all along with him. In fact, carrying it, just like a bag-pack without even questioning its merit. How may times have we said something which is nothing but a progeny of our own thin clouded thoughts, saying something just because it needs to be said. Not entirely weighing what it means, because just like Ryan’s bag-pack, it is just something we have merely thought of and spoken. It is not something we have implemented or experienced it yet. We haven’t worn that bag-pack once. And in scenes before movie’s finale, Ryan for the first time is face to face with his own ideology, so as to speak. Before him is his sister’s to be husband who has suddenly developed ‘cold feet’. And Ryan is supposed to dissuade him. Does his bag-pack theory holds ground in real life? What is he supposed to tell him? The purpose of this scene is clear. To make Ryan discover the futility of what he thinks by placing him in a contradictory situation. And like a sold audience we expect him to talk himself out of this situation and convince himself and more so ourselves that how futile his thoughts been all this while. But, he doesn’t directly. It’s a scene that exhibits remarkable restraint by Reitman, where he withholds and downplays a scene for a moment so that he can amplify its effect later. It is when Ryan is in familiar terrain that he actually cogitates what to do with it. His thoughts. His lies. His bag-pack theory. His pseudo comforting line of ” Anybody who ever built an empire, or changed the world, sat where you are now. And it’s *because* they sat there that they were able to do it. ” In front of an audience. The speech should come easily to him. The ones he has practiced and delivered with flawless élan. But, it doesn’t. The 34 year old metamorphoses into a teenager that very instant.

There is nothing wrong in wanting to be alone and although the characters in the movie are judgmental of this fact, the movie itself is not. And the movie even take those many checking-in, checking-out, fooling around scenes lightly with swift cuts and a breezy background score. Where Reitman is doing nothing but yet again using irony as a potent weapon to juxtapose loneliness and being surrounded by people. Also notable are the scenes where Ryan is veering towards some kind of a family life, some kind of a stability, both in terms of having a family and having someone to cling on. And then it strikes him, the feeling of not belonging . The same feeling the people he let go had.The feeling that snakes onto him when his sister does not even look at the photographs he got for her, and instead just tells him to put it on a soft board. The personal touch and the sense of belonging being dissolved with hundred other similar looking photographs on the soft board. And unlike the people Ryan fires, when he is himself emotionally jolted, he doesn’t even get a chance to breakdown before anyone. In that sense, he has equaled the people he fires in terms of being desperate, but he still can’t vent it. The closest interaction he has is a door being shut on him rather acrimoniously which is symbolic of ‘You are not welcome’.

Reitman does all that and more, but without overtly scrutinizing the pathos of the central character. Also, it is at the movie’s final moments that the director projects the two conflicting conflicting emotions the protagonist has to battle with. Resignation and rebellion. Should he resign to his fate of being a vagabond, or should he rebel against it? He goes to the airport and takes a look at the myriad destination panels at the airport. What is on his mind? He is not a teenager anymore. He can’t break free just like that. He is 34, with little friends and a hazy idea about his future. Can he hear Natalie now?

If I had so many miles, I would just pick a destination and go

He lets go of his luggage in an almost theatrical manner for a moment. We don’t know whether he got onto that flight or not. Neither is his final monologue indicative enough. What tone does he employ? Is it wallowing in self pity, or, a derivative of an anger resulting from betrayed expectations. It is none of these. It is more of an observation. Albeit true but a sad observation, and not in an introspective manner that has promises of rebuilding. He was always an outsider, and he is still an outsider. To the people he fired and ‘consoled’. To his sister. To his sister’s husband. To the bag-pack audience. To Natalie. To Alex.

Tonight most people will be welcomed home by jumping dogs and squealing kids, their spouses will ask about their day and tonight they will sleep. The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over

End credits.

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

Wake up Idiots, Subah ho gayi mamu

2009-12-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

Originally published on Passionforcinema.com , the article has been published here.

Rajukumar Hirani’s power as a director comes from the vision of world he creates. It can be called a world of ‘convenience reality’, his world is only real to the extent he wants it to be. But, it is his unique style of exaggeration where he chooses to address a relevant problem by dressing his characters and conversation in a manner which lends his narrative clarity and often helps him find his destination. He has been primarily a story teller where he chooses to create a somewhat simplistic model of the world he chooses, but it is the genuine warmth that his narrative exudes makes him an important filmmaker. However, with 3 Idiots, too much to recount at hand becomes his undoing rather than privilege and the movie ends up sneaking into different zones, peeking, often sniffing, passing a statement and then moving on to different parts of the story.

One of the liberties taken by our story tellers for eons has been the use of clichés. It is a convenient device that instantly polarizes the different characters and clearly draws a line by delineating clearly what is to be ridiculed and what is to be taken sides with. Hirani is no different here. Like Bhagat he sets his story and bombards it with characters that are painfully stereotypical. The movie is a depressing celebration of motley of clichéd characters who clamor after your attention: a nerd who is oblivious to ways of life and does not defer to human feelings, same can be said about the college dean, the female lead’s beau is a yawningly out and out black character who is blatantly stupid and materialistic, the main characters are under performers and therefore, by default ‘cool’ and ‘different’. Such shallow understanding of people that throng the campus and hence translating them to mere stereotypes stems from limited understanding of college life and plagues the movie quite badly, because the majority of conflicts arise from these stereotypes which makes the whole situation a farce and nothing else.

can’t be denied that Hirani has an interesting premise at hand. In fact, the most relevant and pertinent than his previous two movies; the age old debate examining the importance of grading system, the fact whether our current education system stifles independent thinking.etc, It is also commendable what he chooses to do with those questions, but the fact remains it is not a concentrated effort and the movie never settles into one zone. Also, what hurts the movie’s prospects is the fact that Hirani is more concerned about the fantastic quirks of the characters and exposing them so as to extract numerous laughter moments on screen. He is less concerned about the message he wants to put across and is more intrigued by the flippancy that comes by default to all his characters. Because, the real answers are not as monochromatic and simple as proposed by Hirani and Joshi, rather they are kaleidoscopic in nature. This is where Hirani’s world clashes with the real world. In his previous two movies, his was a world of ‘convenience reality’ where he kept things ‘real’ at one plane and hyperventilated to another at will taking every liberty under the roof and often achieving the desired result with glee. Because, for all we cared, we had not come across a Munnabhai anywhere and therefore we embraced his vision of world unquestioningly. But, the world depicted in the movie exists and we have been a part of it, and hence Hirani’s toggling his versions of reality does tend to affect the movie a bit.

Also, there is absolutely no connect between the characters of Aamir and Kareena. Barely three scenes they have met and the fourth one breaks into a imagined romantic duet. There is no noticeable arc in the feelings and hence, the whole romantic track between the two leads looks forced.

Where Hirani fails with this movie is the lack of conflict between the existing world and the world his main characters believe in. When the characters wants to chase excellence and not success, there is hardly any mention of what happens when you throw caution to the wind and do what you think is right. What happens when one’s idealist self steps into a dog-eat-dog world. How is one tempted to succumb when one’s ideals are questioned at each and every moment? The nerds are always shown as someone devoid of intelligence but only gifted with superb memorizing power. Is it really the case? Are they the typical drones they are made out to be? Really? Besides, it must not be noted that nerds are someone who have seen this system from close and know how to live harmoniously with it. How sinful is it to make peace with a system which you can do nothing about other than scraping out of it? But, these are serious questions that require deep contemplation; rather, here the protagonist’s problem gets solved by a freak accident. Although it can be argued that Hirani’s main intention is to propose a solution rather than contest the ‘what ifs’ of situations. Even then, the subject here is complex and required more attention than what Hirani chooses to lend it. The movie is also yawningly formulaic at places and laced with myriad filmy moments. Yes, not the magical uniquely cinematic ‘filmy’ moments but rather cringe worthy predictable scenes that have a hangover of ‘been there, done that’.

What is to Hirani’s credit is he keeps the thread of comedy throughout the movie and it is this flavor that Hirani is most comfortable with. He is most comfortable at creating something which is a derivative of his soaring imagination, and clearly not comfortable at creating (or, rather recreating?) a prototype of the world that already exists. Creating funny situations out of nowhere is Hirani’s groove. He makes the journey tolerable by creating many light moments. You tend to laugh at the situation, even though disagreeing with the way he handles the ‘message’. But, it must be admitted that he is an important filmmaker just because of the way he has handled all his three subjects so far. His style is often at times endearing and takes unique potshots at conventions; however, he is most comfortable when he does not have to think about hammering a ‘message’ to the audience. Because, Munnabhai despite being insanely funny showed what ‘parental pressure/expectations’ can force one to be. Here, the thread of laughter is strong and glowing, but sadly is the movie’s only saving grace because for most part it is absolutely clueless what to do with its soul.

Paranormal Activity – Goes way deep than some goosebumps on surface

2009-10-21T22:23:00.000-07:00

Originally published on Passionforcinema.com, here

Being fearful comes naturally to us. We need not be conditioned for it. However, bravery, courage and other virtues seek example. Fear stands on its own. Tall, unfettered bonded to our psyche naturally. All great horror movies revel in the fact that ‘it is not about what you show, but what you not show’. They exploit the human imagination and spur it on to unlock the normally inaccessible sets of thoughts and images. Peli knows the fear of unknown is the most pronounced of all and hence builds anticipation like a slow poison with a lot of care and craft. He makes sure the movie doesn’t startle us all of a sudden one moment and fizzles in the remaining parts. The emotions don’t vacillate in crests and troughs here, but rather take a forever depressing linear path which sometimes make it quite a task to even tolerate this movie.

The movie’s sparsely used narrative style transports one seamlessly into the couple’s bedroom. Not like a voyeur, but as an intelligent and keen observer who has the unfortunate advantage of seeing things when the potential victims laze defenseless. Peli hands us the camera when we are least prepared for it. And he keeps putting the onus on us again and again, and we succumb to it unwillingly, because just like Micah and Katie there is no escaping from this. The audience faces the same predicament as the protagonists and it is the synchronization of fear that binds the audience and the protagonists together in an unsettling, stifling fashion.

The use of hand held camera and its often unpleasant jerky movements aggravates tension, for it restricts one’s field of view, and hence amplifies the fear of unknown. When the camera moves through a partially lit living room, the field of view worsens further, anticipation escalates dangerously, and one almost wants to implore the characters to switch on the lights and then continue their quest. At this time, our sympathies doesn’t lie with them, because it is our fear that robs us of any power of lending sympathy. In this way, Paranormal Activity erases the difference between what happens on screen and what happens off it.

It is interesting to note how otherwise mundane, insignificant things add on to the terror here. The place where the camera is planted in room provides the maximum field of view. And once the camera is alive, nothing happening in the house is merely an activity, but rather an indication of impending gloom. Also, the camera is agile and observant when the protagonists are totally defenseless, and becomes reluctant to give us whole peek into sets of action when the protagonists are active themselves. The motive and action of camera is totally opposite to what the characters do, thus connecting and alienating audience at will.

Generally, a lot is said, discussed and dissected about the role of background music with respect to horror movies. Peli adopts the contrarion approach by its minimalist use. The only appreciable moments it registers its presence are the scenes filmed in couple’s bedroom when everything is at standstill except the audience’s expectations of what is to come. The crescendo aspiring to reach its loud climax complement those scenes really well.

It is an important movie because of audience’s relationship with it. It sneaks quietly in that remote, inaccessible area of one’s mind like an unwelcome visitor and stays there. In times when majority of mediocre horror movies beg for audience’s attention, this one dominates the mindset ruthlessly even when the movie is long over. Give this movie a chance to play with your imagination. The sadist in you would thank you for that.

Viva Pedro: Talk to Her

2009-09-07T00:02:00.000-07:00

Well, did he rape her? Try asking him this. He might have just been making love, he would reply. Can love really push someone to the edge of insanity? That is the beauty of Almodovar’s movies. He makes his characters seemingly normal. There are always two worlds. One on the surface, and the one under it. Benigno could just be any guy when he is introduced to us, but then using a series of flashback Almodvar corrodes the paint from the facade and brings out the real him. It would not have been half effective, had the movie been loyal to chronology.

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

Sankat City: What it could have been, what it is.

2009-07-22T23:03:00.000-07:00

Originally published on Passionforcinema.com here.

Let’s begin with Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa. One of the few ‘Bollywood’ movies that dealt with a loser’s story. The movie made us sink into his shoes and helped revisit our vulnerabilities. It also commented intelligently on youth’s lack of choices, and only few clearly defined options of future that they gulped. Rather, forcefully. A loser who bent all the rules in the book, but still remained what he was – a loser. Although the last scene got trapped by the contagious disease called ‘Happy Ending’ or ‘binding all the threads together’ that had been prevalent in Bollywood movies since forever, even then the movie was one of the finest of the decade. Pankaj Advani wrote the screenplay for that movie. It always helps to know where the director is coming from.

But, Sankat City’s fault not lies entirely with director’s surprisingly stunted cinematic vision, but rather failing to realise even its most basic requirement. Living up to a promising script. A script that contains some of the most weird, zany characters, but when translated on screen, the consequence is not inebriated laughter, but listlessness . The jokes are inconspicious by their absence, and it hurts the movie’s prospects because social commentary is not the director’s aim here. At least not the primary one. Although Advani’s attempt is undeniably laudable and honest, but, don’t we all understand and appreciate the cliched ‘Don’t talk about the labor pains. Show us the baby’?

The most potent weapon in the movie of these kinds is dialogues. But, that is not a mean feet to achieve. Specially because one attempts to tackle madness with a subtle method. Less effective dialogues only causes the method to appear more wobbly at a tangible level. The method is then no longer hidden, but is rather exposed, bringing all the flaws on surface. Sankat City ails from this major problem. Ek Chaalis ki Last Local and 99 were prime examples of smart dialogue writing in the movies of same genre. Yes, I am not even attempting to raise the bar by mentioning Tarantino and Guy Ritchie. Even in the Bollywood playground, the dialogues of Sankat City are uninteresting and pedestrian.

However, Sankat City doesn’t suffer from hangover of any film. Pankaj Advani’s voice is essentially his own, and that is heartening to note, however detached it may be from tickling the funny bone is a different thing all together. Characters don’t become weird and interesting just by default. They have to prove their madness. The fact that Fauzdaar substitutes ‘j’ by ‘z’ every time he speaks doesn’t make him a very appealing character. There is nothing else he does to hold your attention. The character had a lot of potential to seamlessly switch between aggression and comedy. That’s what these kinds of characters can do. They coax you into their mannerisms, and when they unleash their venom with blinding alacrity, you almost feel guilty by laughing at the wrong time.

Fauzdaar does nothing of the sort. Briefly, when he chides Pachisia for not slapping the captive followed by a hesitant, wobbly camera closing up is one of the few times the character looked interesting. The movie had a motley of potentially interesting characters on paper. Consider this: A gangster who has a thing for sexy sirens, a homosexual baba, a con woman who is not out and out black, a goon who struggles with English as much as with his life and his overtly emotional co-worker, a stupid goon, and his lover, a sex worker. Pretty interesting characters these. However, the director’s inability to go full throttle with them robs the movie of many potentially rib tickling moments. When Fauzdaar meets the Dynamite, it could have been an insanely, complex, comical epic scene. However, Advani trivialized the whole thing by showing us a silly 20 second dance number. Amongst the pack, KK stands out. The consistency in his character is remarkable. Papa will geeo you breakfast, still makes me chuckle. It is not the kind of role we are accustomed to see him play. But, even then his execution looks effortless .

Over the top characters are a dangerous territory, not because they stand the fear of being rejected outright by people hopelessly running after realism. They are a dangerous proposition because they are difficult to carry. Some characters are intentionally over the top to quench people’s quota of laughter(Most of them are formulaic and poorly written too). But, one there is even a remote intention of taking a dig, the character’s loudness seems shallow. Because then, one is sure the mannerisms are supposed to justify the self depreciating humor dedicated to a much higher cause. Sadly, they don’t in this case. So, Chunky Pandey’s ‘Ye role different hai’, and the usual inanites that he mouths merely transports the message the director wants to convey. It doesn’t touch us in any way, and thus doesn’t a warrant a laugh. Same holds true for Lingam, and Dr.Zhivago. They are irritatingly loud and hence, mere caricatures who do not justify their presence. Here the character’s justification is not related to whether they mean something in the context of the story, which is obvious they do, but into the larger context of adding that quirkiness which movies like these are known for.

It is not as if Advani doesn’t have anything to say. He says, and says it rather well in plenty of situations. Most notably in the movie’s climax when KK and Rimi are trying to find the money in the heap of garbage. Isn’t it analogous to trying to make a fortune in a city which is full of scum(people)? Or, that scene when KK plays with his fishes. One of the few things in the movie(or, even in the dynamics of the frenzied city as a whole) that is not corrupted by the shadow of monetary gain. The fact that KK and Rimi Sen’s story don’t have a romantic angle to it. The swapping of bags and the meteor twist is really smart too. The movie has its moments, but few and far in between.

The movie could have been an intelligent homage to all the Bollywood absurdities we have grown up watching, and it gets some of the things right too, but on a macro level the movie leaves a lot to be desired for. It became a slave to a genre and couldn’t justify its place there.

I wish the highly discussed New wave Indian film making doesn’t resort to mere mutual back slapping, but rather cultivate and encourage serious criticism. Where every rebuttal is not encountered with ‘It is his first film’, ‘atleast he made a film’ , ‘the movie was made in trying circumstances’ , ‘go make a film yourself’ ( Lest I be misunderstood, this is a general statement and is not directed at any one particular!). Or, with excessive cynicism such as ‘Look! he is trying to sabotage our baby’. Our collective goal is much more higher and shouldn’t be impeded with such trivialities.

Do Bigha Zameen, Umberto. D and the Bicycle Thieves: Where Do Bigha Zameen falters

2009-07-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been orginally published here

The distinction is important. Amongst good, very good and great. Because, something which is merely good sometimes seeks to shelter and glow amidst the presence of myriad mediocre works, where it stands apart on a strictly relative plane, nudging mediocrity by an iota. And we often confuse and consequently, equate it to as great. Great it is not, mediocre it could have been, but to its credit, it is only good. This is true with respect to Do Bigha Zameen.

I was delighted to find a copy of its DVD in my University library. Having recently seen Umberto D., and earlier in year The Bicycle Thieves, the comparisons amongst the movies is inevitable as these three were not only made around the same time, but even their principal plot point was same – poverty. The predicaments of characters, vacillating needle between right and wrong, the unusual friendship that only poverty can give rise to is similar too.

Do Bigha Zameen dives straight into the problems of farmers, where the babus never give a moment of respite to the farmers. A world where farmers not only live on Zamindar’s money but also on their mercies. The stark contrast between the cunningness of rich and naivety of poor is portrayed effectively. The first half an hour establishes and exposes the grave problem of the protagonist. But, not before showing a fleeting glimpse of romance between Sahni and Nirupa Roy(My first movie, where no one called her Mataji). Fabulous scenes such as: When he coaxes her, and then drags her deceitfully to get drenched in rain. And when they talk like two love struck teenagers in the field, much to the surprise of a fellow tiller who thinks and suggests romance has no role after marriage. Nice observation, interestingly juxtaposed.

Then, Shambhu (Sahni) moves to Calcutta in order to earn quick cash so that he can save his land. His mother, as he calls those two bighas. The city life slaps him and treats him like a proverbial step child. Then the movie moves into the maudlin zone. And sadly, stays there. Bimal Roy along with the dialogue writer injects maudlin, over the top dialogues scene after scene, and paints a more sorry picture than required where the characters speak out aloud their problem. What could have been some quiet, poignant scenes of sharing sorrow turns out to be loud declaration of love and sacrifice.

Performance wise, the kid is so unbelievably shoddy that he takes the sheen away from what could have been very poignant last 15 minutes of the movie. His performance is a walking, talking guide of the many Don’ts in acting for child actors. Infact, Bollywood had its share of horrendous child actors, mainly in many Amitabh Bachann movies, where a 8 year old’s mouth was filled with such wisdom that you wondered whether to cry or die. Or, both.
Nirupa Roy’s performance is a delight. Her portrayal of a typical coy Indian housewife is not only accurate, it is heartwarming too. Specially that scene where she is dictating the content of the letter to be sent to her husband, and even a remote suggestion of little romance in the letter makes her shrink in veil. Amazing, little scene. Balraj Sahni is spot on as an idealist farmer, though he gets a bit jarringly repetitive towards the end as he sings paeans of morality every second scene with his son. But, that is just a minor blemish to a very controlled and believable performance.

Contrast it to the relationship between the father and son in the Bicycle Thieves, where there is no histrionics on play, the sorrow has bound the father-son together, and they don’t wail over their problem every now and then. Even in Umberto D, what is possibly the last meeting between Umberto and the Maid, when she knows that Umberto has resigned to fate, there is a only a faint eye contact; small, insignificant promise of keeping in touch, and things move on. Just like life.

While the protagonist of De Sica’s two movies are realistic, edgy individuals, Roy’s Shambhu(Sahni) is just too good to be true. So, when the landlady threatens to throw out Umberto of the house, he doesn’t cry or fall at her feet evoking sympathy from us. Instead, he retorts. His pathetic condition doesn’t rob him of any manipulation a perfectly flawed human being is capable of. Making him ordinary makes the story real, and his struggle all the more important and relevant. The character’s constant see-sawing between the two sides of morality in De Sica’s two movies makes them more interesting as compared to Do Bigha Zameen’s linear characters. There is no battle in Do Bigha Zameen, in fact a uni-dimensional, rigid, too idealistic approach by the characters that raises a huge wail whenever the line of morality is crossed.(Although the kid’s moral does sway a wee bit towards the end but his redemption comes gift wrapped in such a pathetic fashion that you wished it never happened in the first place!). There is no wrong in portraying idealist people in a world where they are misfits. It would have elevated the movie to a new level had it been achieved without being preachy, or without highlighting the halo of every character.

The penultimate shot where Shambhu clutches a piece of land, but isn’t allowed even that is touching. Here not much words are exchanged, but even then the director so effectively captures the essence of the scene. I wished the movie had more of that, but it sadly falls in the categories of many merely good movies which could have been great.

MS Dhoni - Split Personality?

2009-06-30T12:43:00.000-07:00

[The article has been originlly published here. Tanul hopes to write with increased regularity at Holdingwilley]

India has never been a land where wicketkeeper's willow has dictated the terms to the ball. There have always been wicket keepers who can bat a bit. Yes. And I do remember Mongia's 152 against Australia, and his inconsistent pinch hitting prowess, Dasgupta's innings to salvage our pride against the Proteas. But, these examples are few and far. Wicketkeepers have always been the guardians of the tailenders. Nothing more. Nothing less.

That sunny morning in Vishakhapatnam saw a wicket keeper of a different kind. India was playing Pakistan. And while batting first, a wicket fell in the 4th over, and in walked a batsman, who was heard of only on the domestic circuit, and faintly in the previous series against Bangladesh. He made his way to the centre, and it was a clear indication that he had been sent as a pinch hitter. His first major one day innings, and all the team wants is to utilize the first 15 overs. The whole country would be content with a snappy 40. He begins his innings - for the lack of a polite word - shoddily. He knicks the balls outside off to third man, gets beaten. But, even then manages a brisk start. We don't care either. Runs are important, no matter how they come, one of the staple lines in the annals of a cricket commentator’s book is repeated for the nth time to reassure our woot against a nervous, inept batting display by a newbie.

Slowly, but surely, he settles. Both in the pitch, the international arena, and his own skin. And then he bats, as if there is indeed no tomorrow. He goes down the track, cuts, pulls, hits the ball for a single and steals a two. We are reminded that he would keep wickets for us, later in the day. Damn! He could get into any side just on the basis of his batting. Similar to Sehwag, he hasn't got the best of techniques, but, his hand-eye-coordination has pummeled Pakistan to ignominy. 148 runs at a blinding speed. Take that!

The biggest disservice to some one's talent is by labeling his work of genius as a 'fluke'. A one off thing. 148 was a chocolate syrup. But, was he here to stay? The majority was still skeptical. Dhoni blurred the line, some months later at Jaipur. There are some players with which you associate something very personal. For me, if you say Jonty Rhodes, the first thing that flashes my mind is him running out Inzamam-ul-Haq by breaking the stumps in the '92 World Cup. Every cricket fanatic has a distinct remembrance of each player. I never knew I would associate one with M.S. Dhoni, from that day on. It had to be that six he hit over the covers on the bowling of Chaminda Vaas. The beauty of the shot was, it was played with such nonchalance that the outcome of it seemed to be completely divorced with the effort. Effortless. He didn't even step out. He just planted his front foot forward, and the ball sailed into the stands stamped with Dhoni's brilliance. 183 runs he scored, that day. Did I say something about 'fluke' some lines ago? Pardon me.

Dhoni's batting was never high on technique. No one was oblivious to the fact, and we were happy to embrace it, because when he hit those attempted yorkers in the death overs with maddening fury, suddenly, the paragraph number three of the page 23 of the batting manual seemed oh-so-silly and supplementary. Dhoni was the weapon we needed in the death overs. We had always made hay while the ball was nice and hard, courtesy the Sehwags, Sachins, and the Gangulys. The lower half now looked all the more dangerous with the combination of Yuvraj and Dhoni, especially while chasing. Team India had a new swagger while chasing those days. Even 90 off the last 10, wasn't a big deal anymore. The big boys were in town.

Then, the team got embroiled in multiple controversies, and before one could get hold of what was happening - M.S.Dhoni was the captain of the Indian team. With great power comes great responsibility. Every Indian Skipper, it seems, is a big fan of this quote from Spiderman. Captaincy for the Indian players is sadly a license of not playing their natural game. It happened to so many before Dhoni. But, for all we knew Dhoni was the maverick. The new face of the Indian cricket. He took some brave decision, and India was back to its merry ways of winning. But, somewhere down the line, Dhoni metamorphosed from a slogger to an accumulator. Initially, he carried even this job with perfection, even sans any big hits, his strike rate was around 100. But, the question is: Was it required, the change? Is, M.S.Dhoni the man who is destined to rotate the strike, and steady the ship? Just because he is the captain of the Indian Team, now? We can have other players to do the job. Dhoni proved his mettle even in his new avatar (he averages a whopping 58 as a captain, as opposed to 44 as non-captain!), but, didn’t he sacrifice his natural self in the process that hurt the team’s prospects in the long run?( Although his average has increased considerably, his strike rate went down substantially too, and his strike rate in T20 has been abdominally low.)

So, when India required 60 off the last 5 against England to be alive in the recently concluded T20 World Cup, and when Dhoni walked in. It was still possible. After all he was the same Dhoni, who had hit Vass of cover for that six, who used to heave his bat to dug out the yorkers and send them sailing over long on. Or, wasn’t he? He had been playing like a dormant volcano recently. But, the faith that he would explode was still there. He did not. He could not. His identity that he had bartered to shelter the team's interest, ironically, betrayed the very team when it needed him the most.

Chungking Express

2009-06-13T02:08:00.000-07:00

Kya Karein, Kya Na Karein...[Fiction]

2009-06-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer : A tribute to the first cheesy feeling of love/infatuation/^%#$!

Today was no different. Aayush, as usual, was sitting in the fourth bench. She was sitting in the second bench. The English teacher was telling something about the Rime of Ancient Mariner. It didn’t matter to Aayush. He was busy looking at her. In fact, gaping. It used to amaze and amuse him, how could she look more enchanting than the previous day. More beautiful. Spellbinding, in fact. She looked back, Aayush quickly snapped away to his textbook. Shit. Did she see me? Aayush saw from one corner of his eye, she smiled. Yes, today was in no way different. It had been four years of this futile exercise. Admiring, gaping her from a distance. Feeling hopeless whenever there was an eye-contact or even a feeble chance of it. Nothing had changed. Four years had passed just like that. And he hadn’t even talked with her. Not even made an effort to. Why? Aayush was afraid. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of being meted to indifference. What if she doesn’t even know me? What if I come across as a fool? What he would go and tell her? That she is cute, and he likes her. Won’t she laugh at me? Won’t the whole class laugh at me? It is almost equivalent to blasphemy talking to a girl in our class, he thought. And why would she even talk to me? What is so unique about me? What is so great about me? OK, I’m pretty decent in academics. But, is that something to boot about? Am I smart? Not enough. Not confident enough to start a conversation with her. Why would she even bother, she has the company of all the handsome boys in class. And she enjoys it, it seems. Forget it. Aayush resolved the mental conundrum. Ok. Just forget her. Concentrate on the Rime of Ancient Mariner.

For a split second, Aayush raised his head and saw her. She was looking back. Aayush looked at her, grabbing an inch of confidence somewhere, locked his eyes into her and didn’t flinch away for that magical second. She smiled. Yes, she smiled. The cutest lip in the world has curled to give way to the most beatific sight ever. Aayush didn’t know how to react. Aayush thought it might have been, somebody sitting at the back. So, he thought it would be sheer foolishness to smile back. Won’t she perceive me as desperate? Aayush didn’t smile back. So, even she turned back to look at the teacher. Aayush looked back to see who was sitting behind him. He saw all the benches of the backseat were empty.

Some weeks later…

The news had spread like wild fire in the class. Everybody was saying the same thing. She was leaving the school. The enormity of the news struck to Aayush without losing an instant. How could she do it? He asked himself. He got no answer.

It was raining outside. Aayush could see her hair was wet. Excess water dripping from it. A drop fell and smudged her beautiful writing. She became a tad irritated. Aayush loved it even more. Aayush never thought she was even capable of tearing a page from her copy. She didn’t. She began writing from a fresh page. Aayush smiled at his foolishness of knowing her so much.

That news had almost paralyzed his senses. When she would be going back? He quickly calculated the possibilities. The first term is still two weeks, she is not going any time before that. She would probably give her exams and go, Aayush thought. But, why? Aayush’s inner voice tried reasoning him. I don’t know. Just shut up. I know it is true. She is not leaving any time soon. But, whatever I will have to talk to her before she goes out. But, what can I possibly tell her? Think hard, think hard, think hard. May be I can ask her phone number of the new place? If she asks why, then what would I say? Well, its pretty easy. I would say I want it because…because..because…shit. shit. Shit. I don’t know. What will I say? Damn.

4 classes later…

Aayush had gone to meet his history teacher about a school project he was leading. It was their games period, but even then he had to go. He somehow wrapped the meeting quickly with the teacher and ran to his class to get his badminton racket. He didn’t want to be late for his match. He entered the class and was taken aback by her sitting alone in the class. What is she doing in the class now? Alone? I know she doesn’t play much, but why is she sitting alone now? Aayush’s hand were fidgety with the chain of his bag. Probably for the first time in his life, he was sitting alone in the class. He was nervous. He wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as he could. He desperately wanted to glance at her. But, wait. This was the best way of talking with her. Come on, Aayush. Go talk to her. Meanwhile, she was sitting quietly in her place. Aayush finally took the badminton racket out of his bag. Why can’t she talk with me? I want to talk. Come on. Talk. Talk. Talk.

Next Day…

Aayush entered the class after the morning assembly and took his place. First period. History. He looked at the adjacent row. The second seat. The one beside the window. She wasn’t there. Absent. But, why? The class was humdrum to the bone. Aayush didn’t have to be a smartass today. Didn’t have to crack any funny jokes and check whether she smiled or not. I could have talked yesterday, he thought. Damn. She wouldn’t have eaten me. One of these days, I will. For sure. I don’t have much time.

Two Weeks later…

Aayush never knew when the realization dawned on him. When did he finally accept it? He didn’t know. He never thought much about it. This was the ‘What If’ chapter of his life. He failed an exam, not because he didn’t know the answer. He failed it, because he hadn’t asked the question. He laughed silly on his analogy. The teacher was teaching the ‘Solitary Reaper’, Aayush glanced at the second bench again. The seat close to the wall was empty. It was raining again. Aayush could almost smell her wet hair. Almost. He could almost see her drawing something foolishly on the back side of a note book, mostly the caricature of the teacher which wasn’t funny by any standard, but only looked funny, because even the remotest prospect of her thinking anything mischievious made him smile. Aayush took out the English textbook from his bag, weary with irritation, out of reluctant resignation to fate. He saw the badminton racket in his bag. Aayush just wanted to exist for her. As someone. Somewhere. It was Aayush's turn to read the last two paragraphs of the poem. He stood and read the poem aloud :

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
Whate’er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending ;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending ; –
I listened, motionless and still ;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more

The times of Harvey Milk, the times we live in…

2009-05-13T10:59:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried speaking while someone clutched you mouth? Did you ever lie to anyone each day of your life so that you could survive? Did you ever cuss at yourself for being what you are? Did you ever wonder why you were not normal, but deep within the true answer betrayed the answer you wanted to listen? Were you met with the stifled giggles of your classmates when you just walked past them? If the answer to all of the questions above is a resounding No, then you don’t know what it was like to be a homosexual in the 1970’s ( people have been a bit forthcoming of late, but those days were the pits). The times when bigotry spread in the air like a contagious disease, the time when a ‘queer’ man showed how one can fight for his own rights, fight for his own life and in the process leave a legacy which people would admire years later with exalted respect.

The movie Milk opens to Harvey Milk confiding his thoughts on to a tape recorder days before his death. He knew his end, because he knew the world well enough. He knew the people cloaked in fear and the repercussions of their action. On November 27, 1978 Harvey Milk was shot two bullets in his head. It took 26 years for the bullet to break ‘that’ closet door, Milk aspired for. 26 years. And this is just a beginning, a good beginning no doubt, but, just a beginning. Many closets are still tightly closed; ’religion’, ‘violation of natural discourse’ are just some of the weak latches. Common sense has never been the forte of human beings, constructing barbed wires and alienating a group has been.

In the first hour or so, the movie plays like a documentary. The camera is an indifferent, emotionally divorced viewer at times, objectively noting points from Milk’s life. It is too reluctant to do anything here, following quietly the phenomena that engulfed the castro streets in 1978. The movie doesn’t place him at the pedestal, but shows Milk as a normal human being, as turned on by power and sex, as any other normal human being would be. It is a transparent delineation of his life, and unlike A Beautiful Mind it never banks on those scenes that never happened in Nash’s life.

Milk is an important movie in todays’ times because our thought process is still a storehouse of conventional, contrite ideas, where the alleged law of God looms large. Neil Armstrong took a giant leap for the mankind in 1969, the very same year when homosexuals raised their collective voice for the first time. Talk about congruency. We make smaller notebooks every other month, but have we really shed our prejudices and moved on? This movie is a a crude reminder of the past, and a subtle gentle suggestion of what needs to be done in the present.

Milk as a movie works on various levels {feels great to use the most abused line in reviews :) }. It is not only about a man who fought for the homosexuals stood against the odds and faced the wind head on, but his life can also act as an inspirational model for he was a man who was proud of being himself. And he never cared a fig of what everyone labeled him as. Because, it is the certification in life from within that matters the most. Harvey Milk knew it. He knew it well. It is about a man who inspired a millions and gave hope.

Milk\’s Hope Speech is one of the most poignant speeches I have ever heard and has the magical ability to lift anyone from abyss and set one free. I am of the firm opinion that things change. That things can change, that things will change. I’m proud to be foolishly romantic. We can’t live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living, said Harvey Milk 32 years ago, and I hope. With a million wishes locked inside.

Are YOU ready to give it to them?

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

There is something about Delhi-6...

2009-02-20T21:30:00.000-08:00

Originally Published here on Passinoforcinema.com

Why do we love Ramayan love so much? Of all the factors that peoplecan possibly come forward with, I’ve a relatively simple answer. We love Ramayana because of Ravan. Because, he distinctly draws that line. He writes it on the wall and declares which side he is standing. Now, that makes our job much more simple of where do we want to position ourselves. We need a hero, so that we may want to be like him. We need a villain so that me may stand on the opposite side of wall. Who the hell are we? Mixed vegetable hain sirjee. Thoda Paneer to thoda mutter.

Roshan( Abhishek Bachchan) comes to India to drop his ailing grandmother. He is flabbergasted by the loudness and madness, where every hour is a celebration of a celebration, where every minute is an event in itself. He neither loves it nor hates it initially, but, is rather fascinated by it. His Motorola cell phone connects him to a world never seen before. He is greeted by a host of interesting characters, who attaches a different meaning to every emotion experienced by him before.

There is not much of a story to boast about in Delhi-6, it is about the journey of protagonist, though to much disappointment, unlike Lucky, he reaches a destination. A forced one. In the first half, the flow of the movie is inconspicuous by its absence, there are sudden stoppages, hiccups, gathering and moving on again. It can be a bit uneasy as an audience to register this, but, since there is so much to show and talk about the Dilli, that the camera is just too busy doing the hopping business. There is just too much going on in the first half.

Mehra’s sense of subtlety, attention to details and metaphors makes it a delightful watch. But, when you have just basked in the essence of scene, Mehra comes back abruptly on to your face and takes care to spell it out. Why would one like to do that? For instance, take the beautiful conversation between Abhishek Bachchan and Rishi Kapoor, where the latter explains how he lost in love, and how desperately he tried salvaging it in whatever way he could. Kapoor’s one line seals it all, but, then, he explains himself again. One doesn’t even get the chance of reveling in that line before being explained like a 8 year old. Same for the fakir’s use of mirror, it was evident, but Kulkarni lectures about it unnecessarily. And these are not the only two scenes.

The music of the film, needless to say, is nothing but jaw dropping. Rahman. Period. Let’s move on. The dream sequence in Dil Gira Dafatan is nothing but amazing, but, after watching the movie, the standout song of the movie without even a speck of doubt is, Rehna Tu. Before watching the movie, I could almost imagine a Chupke Se kind of a treatment being done to it. But, after watching the movie, one realises that Mehra almost reverses the conventional treatment this song could have been meted to. And the lyrics makes perfect sense when viewed in that context. Mind Blowing stuff. Rehman, Joshi and Mehra killed me then and there. Drop dead. Watch the movie and experience the scent of these lines:

Haath tham chalna hiTo dono ke daye haath sang kaise
Ek daaya hoga ek baaiya hogaTham le haath yeh thaam le

And,

Mujhe teri barish mein bheegna hai ghuljana hai

Now, comes the most important part of the film. Climax. Rakeysh Mehra has a penchant of shockingthe audience, he just has to do it. He is not satisfied until and unless, he doesnt’ find anything out of the ordinary to end his film with. He almost killed a beautiful RDB with the garish climax, same happens here too. it seems Mehra is more comfortablelewith the journey rather than the destination. In both the movies, the first two hours flows naturally, while in the last twenty minutes you can almost imagine Mehra scratching his head and thinking about the climax. Thinking too hard. It looks as if he comes up with a ’solution’ to a problem more than anything else. Almost analogous to a 5 paragraph model students have been ‘programmed’ to write in most of the schools. Where is the fucking ‘conclusion’? Mehra wonders aloud. Why it has to be so forced? You may want to retort back. The last 15 minutes killed it. Almost. I say almost because because the first two hours is so damned well made that it would be atrocious of me to deride this movie. Logically, Maths does not allow me to do so. Nor does my conscience.

Film-fare? Awards...

2009-02-14T20:25:00.000-08:00

Originally published here on Passionforcinema.com

It is that time of the year again. When Filmfare announces its award for excellence( in movie making? well, that’s for you to figure out). You might want to scratch your head and wonder why this article is there in the first place, isn’t it PFC? The place where we don’t look beyond Oscars, Golden Globes, BAFTAS and their likes. Where it is assumed(yes, yes, you guessed it right, the ‘intellectual types’) we think A stands for Akira, instead of Aditya and K stands for Kieslowski rather than Karan. I know. But, then the fact that these awards are the alleged representatives of one of the best movies to come out of our country( National Awards, you may argue, but then, is the majority of ‘aam junta’ really bothered?) makes one cringe with irritation after glancing through the nominations. I didn’t even think twice when one of the many illegetimate sons of Filmfare awards, gave Race the Best Screenplay. But, this is Filmfare, and in its 54th year. Oh darling ye hai India, we are different. By almost every means. We award a Maine Pyar Kiya over Salaam Bombay, when a portrayal of Aman Mehra wins the best supporting award, and portrayal of Bhiku Mhatre is given a consolation nomination. Well, I could go on and on.

The question I want to raise here is: What should be the yardstick of these awards? Should it go by awarding genuinely good movies, or, the movies which the masses lapped up? Once in a blue moon, a Hindi movie qualifies, which can do both. When did the Black lady lose its moral? For as long as I can remember the awards of early 80’s and the decades preceding it were still applaudable. ( Ardh Satya, Kalyug, Khubsoorat.etc were awarded the best movie).

Shouldn’t there be that balance, heck, I would even settle with that. But, year after year, what we have is senseless movies having a bagful of stars making it to almost all the categories. There is always a critics award, to keep everyone happy. A Power award so that the tube lights of the venue can be switched on. This year too, has been no different. Most of the movies about which people debated here and intricately pointed out flaws have been shamelessly put there. It is a starry night after all. Where is Mumbai Meri Jaan, Dasvidanya, Mithya, Aamir, and for me the best movie of the year - Oye Lucky Lucky Oye?

Bol Bol, why did you ditch me WHORE?

Luck By Chance: Some thoughts.

2009-01-31T23:32:00.000-08:00

Originally published here on Passionforcinema.com

When Anurag Kashayp first approached Shahrukh Khan for the role of K in No Smoking, SRK refused. He answers that circuitously in the movie Luck By Chance, when he advices Vikram that, in this industry it is very important what kind of choices you make. The first film chooses you, now, you are going to choose your films. Choose well. The answer could very well have been Choose safe. Luck By Chance is one such movie that fleetingly touches some unanswered questions, and then indifferently moves on to its own story. The story of Indian film industry or Bollywood? Call what may you want to, after watching Luck By chance, I just realized, the striking difference between telling your story and sensationalizing it. The difference between honesty and pretentiousness. The difference between a Page 3, and Luck By Chance. The difference between Madhur Bhandharkar and Zoya Akthar. You think I’ve lost it by digressing this far? Well, I’ve just begun..

There have been a lot of discussions on PFC itself regarding its main leads. Konkona Sen Sharma, and Farhan Akhthar. In the movie, they play outsiders, the struggler who are ready to do anything to achieve that coveted spot, to break in. While the former also strives hard, is ambitious, but the latter is unrelenting. To an extreme, almost. The discussion was: Should they have actually cast new comers for the role? I wouldn’t dismiss this question straight way, by just a Yes or a No answer. Because, that is one of the things that this movie raises. How the hell a newcomer can break into this industry? It is not only a bad, mad world where there is not even an inch visible from the outside. We hear thousands of stories about struggles, that actually makes us shudder from inside. Javed Akhthar writes in his book ‘Tarkash’ about his struggling days, everyone who visits PFC knows Anurag’s struggle, and a countless other rags to riches story of those who have made it. In the movie, Karan Johar says to Zafar Khan( Hrithik Roshan), Vikram should be thankful to you, had you not left this role, he could never have got this chance. Zanjeer was refused by 7 people, and then it came to Amitabh Bachann. Aamir Khan left Darr, and then Shahrukh got it(though that Shahrukh’s break, but, from there on started his association with Yash Raj Films which is as significant as a major break). Otherwise, who gives a chance to a new comer? Very true, Mr. Karan Johar. Very true. The way Karan delivers this line rings so true because we all know Karan himself will not give a chance to any new comer, he is too busy working with his ‘brother’, ‘uncles’ and ‘aunties’. This is one of the most honest and ironical lines being spoken in a ‘Bollywood’ movie in recent times. See, I digressed again, back to the question of discussion…

So, the question which some people were discussing on was: how apt it was to cast two established actors who are themselves from a ‘filmy family’. Doesn’t the whole point the movie tries driving home gets a bit lost here? When you see Farhan enter for the audition of a major movie, where he sees many people like him, and when ‘Sapnon se Bhare naina‘ plays in the background. Your heart goes out more to whom? Farhan Akhthar, the struggler shown, who he is actually not, or the people sitting out there filling forms, who are struggler in the real sense. Because, for that brief moment, I snapped out of Luck by Chance, and dived straight into the what is the story of an ordinary struggler. It was very important for the rest of the star cast to be from film industry, because it was about them, but had fresh faces portrayed the role of Vikram, and Shona, the film would have been that more honest for me. Because, one of the part of the movie is about the trial and tribulation of a newcomer trying to break in. It could have given the film that edge. Although, all said and done Farhan and Konkona deliver a staggering performance. Konkona, is by default, expected to act fabulously. So, it would really be a exercise in redundancy to pour accolades on her for this performance. It is the kind of stuff she is born to deliver. Next time someone gives a believable and awesome performance, we can safely it to be a ‘What a Konkona performance’. Now, comes Farhan Akthar. Farhan’s restraint performance was one of the high points of Rock On!! His role raised the movie to a new level, and with Luck By Chance, he raises the bar for himself staggeringly high. What a performer! Farhan should discount everyone’s advice of playing safe,( as advised toVikram by the ’star’ himself) because, this actor has put character back into the word character-actor. Farhan absolutely outshines and dazzles in this movie, a powerhouse performance. I should stop gushing, otherwise people would start guessing I have been hired by Excel Entertainment. Such is the performance by the two main leads, that it actually becomes difficult to answer the question raised in the beggining of this paragraph. Their performance injects honesty and sincerity to the movie.

I also think Zoya owes a lot to her brother Farhan for this movie. I am not going to deny her any credit. It is a smash-hit debut in almost all the ways possible, and I consider it foolish to say that this is the best debut of the last decade or not. Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me. But, I feel Farhan’s Dil Chahta Hai unconsciously laid the foundation of this beautiful movie. Anurag said in one of the comments that, Farhan and Zoya struggled a lot with him and Farhan didn’t know any stars when he was making Dil Chahta Hai. Okay, that is fine. But, after Dil Chahta Hai made waves, when Excel Entertainment came into being, when they had the backing of a powerful Javed Akhthar, a versatile S-E-L at their disposal, it laid the foundation of Zoya’s work. I will reiterate the fact that story and screenplay which has been done by Zoya herself, is a work of an exceptional talent. But, having said that, had the aforementioned factors not been on her side, the movie could never have been as effective as it is now. The guest appearances, the special appearances, the friendly appearances, taking digs at oneself.etc. would never have been possible in a movie made by an ‘outsider’ in the truest sense.

The movie raises so many questions through its funny but dark lines that it would be a crime to ignore them. The actors play themselves, and go on to say some of things that would make you laugh, but at the same time make you think and question the dynamics of ‘Bollywood’. For instance, When Anurag is ranting about one of the supposed endings of the movie via symbolism, and visual metaphors, Rishi Kapoor cuts him short by saying, Ae Institute, main ye picture film festival ke liye nai bana raha hun‘. This line again goes on to say a lot of things in its own unassuming way. When No Smoking was released, people here discussed about Franz Kafka, Ayn Rand, and what not. While the hard breaking truth is that most of our audience and even the so-called stars and member of this fraternity, give a damn. The ideologies don’t match. Not even an iota in most of the cases.

That is what Luck By Chance. About the industry, where everyone dreams to be a part of, an industry where every one bitches about one another, an industry where everything seems unfair and unreasonable. An Industry which is so ruthless that it has made a few, has broken thousands of dream. Hats off to Zoya for delineating such a true account of this kaleidoscope.

City of God: Depressing. Shocking. Brilliant

2009-01-02T22:31:00.000-08:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been published here.

Civilization. Sanity. Peace. Brotherhood. Throw these words out of the window. Because, with respect to the City of God, they are not only an aberration and theoretical, but also, fantastic. A city where every unarmed person is equivalent to a eunuch, a city where anarchy is the only form of order. A city where massacre is a rule, peace an exception. A city thriving on the fringes of insanity and its people clinging on to the feeble dim of shallow hope.

Adapted from Paulo Lins’s novel, the movie is a gut wrenching account of the people living in the City of God( Rio-di-Jenerio’s slum). Narrated by Rocket, a wannabe photographer, who unlike his brothers, and the majority of the people of the city of Gods is not obsessed with guns. Or, taking life. He admits he is not cut out for that stuff. The movie is a first hand story about an ordinary guy who grew up in the City of God, his tryst with this abnormal world, where killing is almost as common place as is the lack of it on the streets of a so called normal, civilized world. Almost everyone and everything is corrupt, the city’s name is ironic in the very sense because it looks as if it is this very city that has been abandoned by the Gods. Most of the cops are as dangerous as the hoodlums dominating the street, a child’s definition of becoming a man is this - I smoke, I snort, I’ve killed and robbed, I’m a man. Robot narrates the story and the movie almost unfolds in a chapter wise format, delineating each character’s background and bind them to the main story with seamless ease.

The movie opens to a mad chicken chase. An entire gang is running after the chicken, a symbolic representation of the narrator’s unending desire to flee from the same madness. The manner in which the scene launches till the point it concludes is simply amazing. The cinematography here is just magical, for a few seconds the camera almost becomes a living entity running with the spirit of chicken and possessing the heart to break free. It has to be one of the most kinetic opening sequences in the movies. In host of other scenes as well, the cinematography of the movie stands out, be it capturing the blood laden streets and by lanes of the favelas, or be it the violent action scenes, or capturing the symmetric houses(probably the only thing in the place that exists in order and symmetry). The editing too is top notch, movie switches time so casually, but, not for once does it looks discontinuous, all the parts merge into each seamlessly and the movie succesfully emerges as one gigantic story composed of different sub-plots embedded to each other.

I was pleasantly amazed to find that the movie had only one formal actor, rest all were kids from the favela itself(although they went under a rigorous acting workshop later!). The performances are just so natural, there is no forced histrionics, no sense of lingering in any scene, the movie is spellbinding and unravels with blinding ferocity.

The movie tells in its own chilling way that how crime never pays, that how one can never win in the world of crime, how one can never be the boss when everyone is wrong around, that the transition from being ruled to a ruler can be done with unbelievable ease, that this world of violence can come back and bite anyone and everyone. City of God is a depressing testimony to this fact.

Why did the audience embrace Rang De and showed the door to Swades…?

2008-12-26T22:40:00.000-08:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been originally published here.

I despise comparing films, and neither does this article compares Rang De and Swades( it does a wee bit in the end!). But, it is my take on the two movies( mostly independent), though coupled with how Indian audience perceives patriotic movies.

Rang De Basanti is the story of four youngsters, who are indifferent to the current state of affairs in our country. Graduall they discover what their country was, what did the coveted feeling azadi meant to the Bhagat Singhs, Azads, the Sukhdevs, and are enlightened when they see the present situation with reference to sitting in the CCDs, Baristas and complaining Is Desh ka kuch nahin ho sakta.

The movie opens to a typically brash, fun loving college going kids who are not concerned about anything but their own nothingness, their own small world, where they are the self confessed kings, and care two hoots about the whole world. Their shallowness dictates their life, until they meet Sue, a documentary filmmaker from Britain who is here to make a movie on India’s freedom fighters. Their face to face with India’s history makes them realize what India was, what India has become, and what it should be. The death of their friend and the system’s apathy towards the same is a triggering factor for them to want and enforce a change.

Swades is about Mohan Bhargava, a scientist in U.S.A who comes to India to take his nanny back. In a queer way, Swades is also about the realization of its chief protoganist, though here it is via witnessing the things first hand and then contemplating. The tranisition of Mohan is very much slow and hence, believable, though accused by everyone as very documentarish and slow.

Mohan goes through and sees a myriad things, before transitioning to drinking water from kulhad at the unknown Ankola station for 25 paisa. That is not even 1 cent, Mohan’s own plush life in NASA meets a contrasting life of wretchedness in a totally heartfelt manner. If, one strips himself of all humane values, and sees the movie ‘objectively’, it is nothing but a documentary, where Mohan moves from one place to another and ‘preaches’ the gaonwallahs about the boons of education, self reliance and other socially relevant topics. But, Mohan’s traverse through the villages, India’s most talked about problems places Mohan with respect to his country on a different plane.

In Rang De Basanti, I absolutely loved the character’s re’discovering’ India’s glorious past and connecting with the morals and the struggle of the freedom fighters amidst the mindless fun. The protoganists are shocked to find the system’s indifference to their friend’s death, and they are shocked only because they know what is and has been going on. Because, the system had been an eunuch for long. It is only of late, they found that. Now, a major issue regarding projecting a problem is to also give out its solution. Though not necessary, that is how most hindi movies are chalked out. And that is where Rang De Basant frittered it all away. For me. Though the very same climax heightened the crescendo of emotions triggered earlier in the movie by the Khoon Chala song. Had the last half hour or so would have been considerably less loud, and hence, less self defensive in approach( humein pata hai, humne jo kiya wo sai nai hai) and also not preachy( Koi bhi desh perfect nai hota, use perfect banana padta hai), the movie could have clinched it for me. Although all said and done, Rang De Basanti was still a good entertainer(some of the highest grossers of 2006 were Dhoom2, KANK, Fanna..well, well, well!). But, RDB did manage to impress, numb, and made everyone to contemplate because the climax had the ’shock’ value, the thrill, the snapping of emotional chords between the audience and the characters. RDB gave it with glee, what the audience expected and demanded. That is why it went on to become such a huge hit.

Coming now to Swades, it is a movie which can be so typically put under the common ‘Bollywood’ watching audience’s parlance, a movie, where ‘nothing happens’. And according to me, that is how it should be. Have you ever realized something in your life? Be it of any importance. We all have realised things in our insignificant ways. And how did that realization come? Not through some background music, nor was it followed by heavy down handing of massive dialogue(s). To portray all this on the celluloid was very difficult, almost as difficult as realising a difficult looking story like Lagaan onto the silver screen. But, Gowariker did it.

The once cynical Mohan now believes that something can be done. Something should be done. And he feels the onus is on him, he feels the ‘guilty’ are they and also ‘us’, if we don’t do anything about it. The ‘us’ of RDB also tried to take the baton, although what they did eventually was as immature, rash and so consistent with their character is a different thing all together.

Mohan embraces us, and contributes whatever he can to kill the deficiency that is plaguing his village. An engineering dispelling the darkness of his own village, if that is not ‘awakening’, what else is? Swades is discovery of a man’s roots. Both films( and almost every second hindi film) can be accused of being impractical, but, what is more impractical? Gunning a minister for venting out one’s frustration in the garb of patriotism, or an educated giving something back to the country? There have been people like Mohan who have came back and delivered( whether you want to scoff at them for they being impractical is your take). The point is not about a movie mirroring the real life more closely. The point, I’m trying to drive home is something else. Audience. And its choice. Rang De Basanti was an entertainer and the bonhomie of its college going characters, characterization, dialogues, almost hit the bull’s eye. Songs bound with the narratives, and Joshi’s words danced to Rehman’s tune. I take nothing of that fact away.

But, why did we shoo Swades of? A film that was so rich in its message, a film that had soul, a film that had Shahrukh(’ King Khan’) in his career’s best performance, a film which talked about something which so happens, though without being preachy. You can sleepwalk over its documentarish structure and may not even realize it is patriotic. Because, it talks about the problems within( both inside us, and in the country).

Why was Gadar the top grosser of 2001? Because, it had the so obvious Anti Pakistan references? I know Swades wasn’t cool, I know Swades didn’t have ‘Behen de Takke‘, I know Swades didn’t have ‘Hindustaan Zindabad’, or ‘xyz murdabad‘ and the thousand in your face facets of patriotism, it wasn’t hilarious in parts either. Jo log behre hote hain, unhe dhamaake ki zaroorat hoti hai. Swades had no dhamaka, it had no blockbuster elements, is that why the Indian audience didn’t listen?

For the mere selfishness of watching good hindi movies in future, I just hope that Swades finds its audience someday. Because it our choices of today that is going to determine what is going to be made tommorow.

Bollywood in 2008: The movies I loved.

2008-12-21T21:40:00.000-08:00

Originally published on Passionforcinema.com. The article has been originally published here.

It is that time of the year again when we look back at the year and analyze the year’s movies we loved. I don’t watch many movies in a year(or let’s put it, not being able to), so this is the list of movies I loved amongst the lot I watched. Since I couldn’t watch some of the most talked about movies of the year like Aamir, Mumbai Meri Jaan, Welcome to Sajjanpur, Dostana. So, they don’t make it to the list for obvious reasons.

They rocked it. And how! (Rock On!!)- After a spate of failures, Excel entertainment finally delivered with Kapoor’s Rock on. The poignant story of 4 individuals discovering themselves when they have ‘moved on’ in life and ‘compromised’ with life. Beautifully understated and surprisingly subtle, Kapoor’s story telling ability showed huge improvements since his forgettable Aryan. Farhan Akhtar looked very assured in his first stint in front of the camera, while Shahana’s portrayal of a frustrated wife was commendable too. The soundtrack of the movie left a lot to be desired, and Farhan’s voice received an emotions of mixed hues, I found it to be strictly okay. For me, it worked within the context of this film, it won’t anywhere else. With due respect to Javed Saab, the lyrics were pedestrian to say the least. Sindbad the sailor, and Na na na na were the only two songs that had those truly cool, zingy, carefree moments . Socha Hai tried too hard to impress, and so did the rest, though Phir Dekhiye was sung soulfully by Dominique. Kenny being diagonised with cancer and all that associated drama were the only staring blemish, the movie was going beautifully till that point dictated by the demands of the characters and setting, not by any formulaic structure. The movie could have still fallen after that cliched angle, but was deftly handled thereon and turned out to be quite decent in totality.

No Good bye to a movie like this. (Dasividaniya). - Vinay Pathak plays Amar who discovers that he has only three months to live. The subject of the sort has been handled in many movies( though only as direct and explicit in method like Bucket List), but the way Vinay Pathak portrayed the hidden, unexplored desires of an ordinary middle class guy was exhilarating to see. Almost every wish of his is sewn with some really beautiful scenes and the moment you think the movie is going into the maudlin and itching to become sugary dramatic, it snaps out and comes back on track. Although, I believe the movie lost all its impact towards the end. It could have easily been 15 minutes short. When Vinay and his brother are having a conversation in the balcony about life and how we miss the minute details only to repent it later, was heart warming. Then, Vinay says yeh zindagi kitni khubsoorat hai na bhai…The movie should have ended right there. Right there. To see the movie end on a detatched note was a tad dissapointing.

The common fear of unknown faces. (A Wednesday) - A dynamite debut. Neeraj Pandey. A tight gripping thriller that almost never sways off track, barring few amateur dialogues, and a couple of minor inconsistencies here and there. People will always debate how practical and logical the whole thing was. The make up of the common man can be debated and so will be his motives. If not for anything else, if his motive can be looked as a symbolic representation of everyone’s anger that is seething within, that too in wake of recent bombings, we can appreciate what A Wednesday wanted to say. Also, A Wednesday never tried to spell a solution, it was just an exaggerated version of the latent anger. If this continues, something is gonna break, that’s what A Wednesday was about. Naseeruddin was the Shah of the movie, while Anupam Kher is as always was a delight to watch.

So when can the most cliched story be entertaining? (Jaane Tu..Ya Jaane Na): Okay. It can be argued that he might not be the same Tyrewala who wrote the Main Khuda of Paanch, but even on his bad days Tyrewala can be fairly sharp and intelligent than most of the people in Bollywood. I had always thought Tyrewala’s first film would be different, but his choice to direct a typical bollywood rom-com flick came as a surprise. The story was cliched as it could get, nor was the treatment of the love story any different. The same we are only buddies, the third one ensuing jealously, etc.etc. But, I never thought the high points of this movie would be the comic element. After a certain point, the movie just ran berserk and was pointlessly hilarious, and ala Singh is King and their cousins, the jokes were not cliched, although bordering on to unbelievable madness at times, the movie was fun. The movie worked for me only because of its mindless humor, you know, dimaag ghar pe chod kar aane wali movie. I enjoyed it like I would enjoy any ‘good’ Govinda-David Dhawan flick. Romance and the lovey dovey scenes( or their effect) was conspicuous by its absence. Also, Kabhi kabhi Aditi was reason enough to throng the theaters.

God was with this movie till he was not in the movie. Rab Ne Bana di Jodi(only the first 40 minutes): We all knew Aditya Chopra could do it after DDLJ, and we were all waiting for it, with almost bated breath. The movie introduces Punjab in an uncharacteristic Chopra way, and surprisingly, Chopra captures the nuances of the small city in a manner we all had wanted to see for a long, long time. The character of Suri is so cute and sweet, that you feel like saying a girly Aww…cho chweet whenever he says Thani ji. Shahrukh steps out of his King Khan umbrella and delights, dazzles, and sinks into Suri’s Action shoes to provide one of his most believable performances. This movie could have been a different story all together(literally!), had Aditya Chopra plugged in some common sense and a shade of practicality. He killed the movie after that. Well, that is a different thing all together. But, I still can’t get over the first 40 minutes replete with magical moments like Maine to aj tak kisi ladiss se baat hi nai ki, and when he gazes over the new tiffin with Haule Haule playing in the background.

Sarkar Raj: Sarkar Raj is not amongst the Verma’s best work, but, given Verma’s horrendous form of late, Sarkar Raj wasn’t that bad either. The first half was distinctly better than the second half. Abhishek brooded more than he did in Sarkar, while the camera was obsessed with exposing every wrinkles on Bachann’s face. Even though the climax was a bit too easily spelled by the know it-all-Godfather-turned-God, it was still pretty engaging for most of the parts.

Oye Lucky Lucky Oye - After Khosla’s success, expectations were sky high from Banerjee’s next movie. And Banerjee didn’t disappoint. This tragicomedy had some stellar performances from the entire cast, backed by a layered script, and the capital city at its barest best. I had said almost everything about the movie in this article . So, any more adjectives in this space would just be redundant.

And for me the real hero award of this year was….? UTV Motion Pictures for giving home to some of the most varied, fresh and exciting ideas in the industry. One just hopes UTV continues sheltering this new breed of Indian cinema. The Pandeys, the Banerjees and the Kamats have just begun to emerge and aren’t we loving it? We must thank UTV for that.

So, that was 2008 for me. What movies made it to your list?

God and Me.

2008-12-18T17:02:00.000-08:00

Edit Post: The Author respects the views and sentiments of every religion. He also has no problems with people who are deeply religious and spiritual( though he finds a tad difficult to relate to them) . Indifference and hatred are two diametrically opposite emotions. This is completely my views(obviously!) and I don't intend to hurt anyone's feelings.

I'm a Hindu. At least that's what my second name says. But, if I strip my life to the bone and analyse what being Hindu means to me, what answer would I get? What has religion to do with whatever kind of a person I am? How does my religion affects my life? Let's see, as being a Hindu, I go to temples, I celebrate Diwali, Holi and ten thousand different festivals. The festivals are a nice break, you get to hang out with your friends, meet everyone in your family, general bonhomie and good spirit. Nice feeling. But, is that feeling 'religion centric'? No. The argument, according to me, is not to pass cynical remarks on any religion(mine, your or your neighbour's) in particular, but to objectively analyse what I've gained from it. I have not. Every religion is a parametric function. Going to temple/mosque/gurudwara/church, celebrating Diwali/Christmas/Id, fasting/feasting on some important days and dates.

Cricket, movies and Gods is our country's obsession(not in that order!). People are just obsessed about anything related to religion, painstakingly taking measures to do things according to 'vidhi', not eating, continuously chanting, feverishly praying, and even imposing substantiated by warning of blasphemy. 'Arre, aise mat karo paap chadega.' 'Kaisa ladka hai, pooja bhi nai karta.' Now, let's consider an example, say about a 'Sawan'. Some non- vegetarians who have no qualms about grinding their teeth into meat almost every day of year suddenly develop cold feet during that month. 'Paagal ho gaya hai kya? Saawan me chicken khayega?' Now, this, according to me is 'mother of double standards'. You either do a certain thing, or you don't. Eating and behaving in a particular way for a certain period of time makes sense in what way? What kind of belief is this? That it is a function of some days and then vanishes into thin air? But, people buy that and 'religiously' follow it. Do they think their God is foolish? The point is not about being a vegetarian or a non- vegetarian,( though vegetarian sounds cool on moral grounds) the point is about beliefs and even more than that, it is about showing respect.

People won't do certain things on tuesday or a thursday( or any day which is convenient for them). Why? They would like to dress up their defence by some very pure sounding 'belief'. Conceded. But, have people peeped inside and contemplated whether it really affects them? Yes? Because our ancestors have been doing it , that's why? Do they really own it? But, if these very 'belief' gives someone their peace of mind, then I'm off guard and don't really guarantee a say regarding that. But, even then it is one of the ways of attaining happiness that is in my opinion, bizarre. I would find it difficult to connect with mentaility of that sort. People have manipulated almost every thing according to their convenience to such a bastardised extent that there exists a very thin line between belief and superstition.

Going to temple and praying is also something which escapes me completely. Why do you need a special institution to show your faith? Why has faith been begun to be dictated by some strange laws? Open your shoes before entering a temple. Why? A sign of respect? How? Does the respect comes from our feet or our hearts? Practically speaking it might have to do with keeping a pious place clean, but, even then it is exaggerated to such a degree that it is stifling. And pointless. When you believe in something, you believe in it. True faith and belief never was, and never would be fickle.

So, what does that make me? Am I an atheist? I have really thought a lot about this question. And I know the answer now without a speck of doubt. No. I'm not an atheist. I do believe that there is something which transcends us, but, he doesn't have a name, doesn't tell me to do things in a particular fashion. For me, he is someone, who lets me be me. He is someone for whom I have immense love and respect. But, for that I don't need to go anywhere, chant anything, read anything, recite anything. He doesn't care whether I fast or feast. He is bindass, he is super cool. And I know he would be there for me, when I need him the most. He gives me solace, when I am cornered. I believe in him. I worship him.

Indian Cinema is feeling Lucky.

2008-12-06T23:35:00.000-08:00

The times are surely changing. And for the better. Dibakar Banerjee's new offering sweeps you off your feet. First of all, Oye Lucky.. is not a comedy in entirety, it is a fantastic take on the present society, people's poor soul, the despair of middle class, the double standards of people, the desperation and hence, the fascination with media. And a million little things. It is about life, and why it doesn't appear in monochrome. It is about desperately trying to cling on to certain things, but, like sand, everything slips out of hand. But, still running after them, and even foolishly trying to buy them with money.

I don't know Punjabi. But, I have seen numerous Punjabi families on screen. The affable big breasted Chaddha aunty, the correct chaddha uncle, the sarson ka khet, the kabotars, tractors, shaadis, bhangda pao ji. Oye Balle Balle Pape! It had been done in such an excessive and predictable manner that it was irritating. And boring. But, the way in which Banerjee has shown Delhi and Punjabis is refreshing to say the least. The Punjabi spiced with Harayanvi is a delight to hear.

If Khosla family was a character in Khosla ka Ghosla, here, Lucky is the prinicpal character. And what a character! Lucky as a character is very different from the normal thieves we have seen on the celluloid. While most of the thieves steal to just survive, Lucky's motives for stealing are different. He steals to get a better life, to obtain things he was once deprived of. Manjot Singh, who plays the young Lucky, is brilliant. From a very young age, Lucky shows fascination for leisure goods, when his friends are busy beating a guy to pulp, he is examining his sun glasses. Brilliant scene. This establishes what kind of a chor Lucky is going to be. And a numerous other scenes, waiter trying to demoralise the young poor Lucky in a swank restaurant.

Kyun be Main Nahin kar sakta? This unflinching belief in himself sets Lucky apart. When everyone tries dissuades from doing certain things because it is out of Lucky's Aukat. But, Lucky sets out and achieve them.

Lucky grows up to become a superchor, meets two father figures in his life(both played by Paresh Rawal), they both hurt him, like his father. Even though Lucky is rich and (in)famous, he is still a loner. He still longs for family, for his loved ones, the social respectability. Why would anyone want to steal family photo frames? Greeting cards? That's what Lucky is. Lucky is a fool. He tries stealing things, he could never get in his own life. Everyone manipulates him, uses him, but, have no qualms about receiving money/presents from him. They are reluctant and hesitant to provide Lucky one thing he truly wanted his whole life. That is the double standard of our society.

The movie also takes a brilliant dig at the importance of money in today's time. That scene on the dining table is a gem, where how the attention shifts from the canadian-groom-to-be to Lucky, when he says that he is shortly going to open a restaurant. What a beautiful way to say that, We have started valuing money more than the individuals. Also, a thing about the way Banerjee shows Lucky vs the Rest of the society. Yes, Lucky is a chor, there is no doubting that fact. But, what about the rest of us? How pure the rest of the society is? Kyun lalach kar rahi ho madam. Apka to imitation tha, wo to maine phen diya. Ye inka hai. The man besides the lady now says, Dekha na, Yeh hai sacha aadmi. For some reason, I just couldn’t laugh on that line. It shook me. Completely. Then, that scene which is reminiscent of Lucky's childhood,when Mr. Handa's son wants to ride on Skoda. Mr.Handa declines saying, Dekho pehle apki chadega,phir kahega papa le ke do. Main kahunga beta go to hell, phir churaega, aise hi shuru hota hai. The expression on Abhay Deol's face is worth a million bucks.

Abhay Deol is one actor who keeps outdoing himself, with every performance of his. he has launched himself into a completely different territory, and he need not be worried about any perfectionist, any big or small B, nor about any King or Queen Khan. He has carved a unique place in this industry. Expectations would be soaring high from his banner, the Forbidden Films.

Dibakar Banerjee. What the fuck you have made? And why? You have shown us the mirror and I hate to see that. Why will you not get the Best Director Award at the Uncle-Aunty Awards (read Filmfare Awards)? Not that it matters to any genuine cinema lovers, but still. It is about the best movie of this year. And that Oye Lucky Lucky Oye surely is. It doesn't require the certification of any 'family' awards.

This post is an entry to the Reel-Life Bloggers contest organized by wogma.com andreviewgang.com

Slumdog Millionaire - Questions/Glaring hole.

2008-11-26T04:03:00.000-08:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been published here.

Disclaimer: Please avoid this post if you haven’t seen the movie. If you have, come and join in the fun.

Quite a few questions came to my mind after watching the Slumdog millionaire. One thing followed to another and we(PFC authors) started debating on some of the things in the movie. The debate came to an interesting point and we thought of sharing it with everyone. It runs down as follows:

Tanul Thakur:Just watched Slumdog Millinoaire. The first fifty minutes blew me apart. Absolutely brilliant execution. It is both exhilarating and breathtaking. But, after that the film kind of digresses and it became one of the movies that could have been. I have some questions,

-Since Jamal is a street guy, and as we all know the questions asked to him during the show was a part of his journey. And since he is a street boy(young is the point I want to stress), we don’t expect him to pick any subtelities, the facts learnt by him during the period should be ‘told’ to him or experienced ‘first hand’. But, some of the answers told by him looks as if the incident involved the particular thing but I fail to understand how he extracted(or learnt) an answer out of that. For instance, I can still expect that 4,000 Ram Bow-Arrow question, I’m even ready to buy that Surdas waala bhajan(though there is no discussion regarding who wrote the bhajan,when he was with the gang, and I mean why would anyone? It is just a gang who wants to earn money. Or, is it when Jamal grows up he sees the things in that context? Blind children connection to Surdas?).

-Also, his answering that Benjamin Franklin question looked a tad forced to me. I mean first of all why would he give his begger friend $100, when it is not going to be of any immediate use to him? Why not give him a mere 1,000 rupees?(If the intention was to help him). Logical and common sense. And then the boy explaining to him about who is on the note, it again looked a tad forced to me.

-Then the question of who invented the pistol? Only an incident is shown with the gun and his brother involved. How can that be related as to who invented the gun? Who will give a gyaan about who invented the gun amidst all that tension? The point I reiterate is the answer was not ‘learnt’ by Jamal during the incident, as far as I know(If I missed something here, please tell me, my girl friend told something was mentioned!)

-Now, the most important thing. Probably everyone knows this but why did no one touched upon this when analysing the movie. The show ‘Who wants to be a millinaire’ is *not* a live show, so the whole phone call thing, Latika escaping, police arresting, and all that drama is just for the sake of being drama. I didn’t like that. People murder a movie when there is a slight flaw, but this is a gaping hole, in my opinion.

-Why, oh why, is the host of the show shown to be a cunning, two faced sly man? All the hosts of the show(Big B, SRK)put the contestants at ease. SRK occasionally took the case of contestants, but nothing as severe as what Anil does here. Why? Because, he doesn’t want another Slumdog to become a millinoaire? Just like him? So he gives him the wrong answer? Why? Regis Philbin was nothing like what Anil is shown here. This is not ‘Kamzor Kadi Kaun’ or ‘Who is the Weakest link’, and even in these shows the host would like the contestants to win, unlike our Main-Grey-Hoon-Kapoor.So I didn’t see any explanations for Anil’s behaviour. Totally escaped me. And more than that, it comes as a shocker when it is shown that Anil is the man who is responsible for Jamal’s arrest.

-How can you just arrest someone on the mere’suspicion’ that he cheated? Without substantiated proof?(Or, can you? Not very certain on this ground, but still, just arresting and giving 3rd degree on a mere suspicion seems like stretching it a bit too far!) I’m sure the show organisers makes sure that no one cheats. Why weren’t they questioned?
These are some question that didn’t leave me. I would appreciate and be able to see the movie in a better light, if someone answers those questions for me. The first half of the movie is like a breath of fresh air, but these questions just refuses to leave me. Academic? Over analysing? Boring?
I want answers!

Shripriya: Tanul,
- the beggar master says something like “it is his favorite surdas bhajan”.
- he gave the beggar boy $100 b/c that was the note he was given when the driverwallah beat the shit out of him and his tourist buddies gave him the note.
- the bro says something like “my colt will kill you” or some such thing.
- live show thing - yeah. that’s why you need the “willing suspension of disbelief”
Why can’t the show host be cunning? It is a personality thing, not a show thing. It adds to the drama. If the host was a kind uncle type person where’s the added drama? Who cares if Regis and Amitabh are nice cuddly bears?? This guy isn’t and it makes it so much more interesting.
You can arrest anyone for anything if you are powerful enough in India and the person being arrested is a slumdog. That’s reality.

Tanul Thakur: - One more point. Regarding ‘English’. Had they used English from start to beggining(as in, the characters conversing with each other), it would have been fine. Because, in that case, what it would have meant that the characters are just interacting, english is only a ‘medium’ to showcase what they are thinking/speaking. But, the movie wants us to see the young Jamal speaking in Hindi and couple of years later speaking in ‘correct english’ , that seemed more like a transition to me, without any proper explanation. How did he learn english during the period?( He could have, but the sudden turn around in the mode of communication didn’t sit pretty well). Same for his brother, Latika.

Tanul Thakur: Shripriya,
Ok, I might have missed the point of the first three questions. But, I don’t quite agree with the ‘willing suspension of disbelief’, I didn’t went in expecting a fairy tale.
And why should the host be cunning? Just to add drama for the heck of it? Logically speaking, it doesn’t make any sense why would anyone want to piss the contestants off and jeopardise their own TRP’s(I may be taking it a bit too far, but still he didn’t ring very true and consistent to me). Zabardasti drame baaji, didn’t work for me.

Shripriya: I think the suspension of disbelief is required to some degree to enjoy any fiction (here’s the history on the term - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suspension_of_disbelief)
The host doesn’t *have* to be cunning. But why should he be bland?? You think hosts are bland b/c of Regis. But why can’t a host be vicious and mean spirited - wanting to pull down others? He’s not pissing off contestants. He is two faced. So, to the contestant, he seems like a nice guy. But in reality, he only wants them to go “so far”, but no further. Let’s say Jamal believed him and picked B, Ricky Ponting. What would Jamal do later - say the host lied to me? Who’d believe him? So, the host has an airtight way in which to get him.
Now, as to why the host does not want someone to succeed… from what I could get it is that he’s a rags to riches guy and he wants to be the only rags to riches guy around (for now anyway). He doesn’t want someone else to take the glory, the press and the adulation that comes with such a story. Is that strong enough motivation? I agree that it seems a bit stretched, but still within the realm of possibility for me. [Edited to add: His TRPs are guaranteed even with someone getting that far - a win is not needed]

OM: Tanul..i too had a problem, coz there was no explanation, as to what was the motive behind AK to be cunning…but, then i made myself believe that, he is an individual..and every individual behaves differently in different situation…so no explanation was needed..it is how you take it. Others are answered by shripriya pretty precisely…
If you notice the film carefully..all the answers given by him to the questions posed to him..had life changing experience wrt to jamal..and if YOU too had to list 5 things in your life..you wud remember somethinh which had an effect on your life and not wat u ate at a restaurant, nai? plus..it was destiny as was made clear at the begining it self

OM: “Now, as to why the host does not want someone to succeed… from what I could get it is that he’s a rags to riches guy and he wants to be the only rags to riches guy around”
Shripriya..this could be a very interesting topic to discuss and i was talking about it with my roomie too…the chracter that AK plays..is lying so much or conning or being mean..so, it could also mean that he as well might not have been the rags to riches guy..it was just a way to fool..it could be either ways..hence i loved AK’s character so much..there is soo much ambiguity in it…its a trip.

OM: “why should the host be cunning? Just to add drama for the heck of it? ”
why does the sun rise from east? why is garvity downwards? why are villians always mean? why does rama has to win against ravana?
its a story yaar…thats the way you projected your characters..

Tanul Thakur I do get the fact about the Suspension of disbelief, but when the whole movie hinged around it(especially the climax), it was just a tad difficult for me to gulp. Anyways, thanx for the answers!

Mitch Guys its magic realism. If your looking for logic you won’t find it.It’s majorly influenced by Midnight’s Children and I think that Jamal will be a better Salim Sinai than even the authorized version.

Tanul Thakur @OM: Yaar, I still believe that Anil Kapoor waala angle was kinda forced. They could have done away with that ambiguity. Had they only left at the host being cunning, it would have been still okay with me. But, Kapoor making sure Jamal is arrested is really stretching it a bit too far. I mean he is a millinoaire, why the hell should he be bothered about a slumdog?( Or, was it *this* eccentrity in Kapoor’s character they wanted to portray). Escaped me. Totally.

OM - ” I mean he is a millinoaire”
that was not explained..how did you get that?Tanul ThakurHe himself tells it in the bathroom. And is that too difficult to guess? A guy hosting Who Wants to be a Millionaire would surely be a guy with better standing!

Shripriya - @Mitch - oh yeah!! That is totally spot on. He would be a great Salim! I hope they pick him!!

OM- @ Tanul“He himself tells it in the bathroom. And is that too difficult to guess? A guy hosting Who Wants to be a Millionaire would surely be a guy with better standing! ”
ahahha..that answers your question brother…its waht you let yourself to believe..it is waht Shripriya says about willingness to suspend urself…and the thing he says in bathroom..is what he says to Jamal…he could as well have been lying..but its your willingness to believe it..and as i said..it was ambiguity of that character…would you believ such a cunning man or not..that makes it so much more interesting…
not trying to convince you, which is not possible, not just to you but anyone with a different pov, but, certain things one as a viewer takes it for granted, others dont, and others accept it in the whole milieu of situation..and there are others who dont bother abut it as there is more of much more importance happening around
but i am loving this debate here…plssss tanul take this to the main..you can quote me as it is…

Tanul Thakur @OM: It is not about what I want to believe but that is what things *are*. Why would anyone but a celebrity host a show as famous as Who Wants to be a Millionaire. He has to be a known figure and thus, a celebrity. Even if he hadn’t told this in the bathroom, would it have been too difficult to guess? Or, for that matter, who hosts(or have hosted) the ‘major’ game shows on TV? It is/has been the stars.

Ikiru

2008-11-22T15:41:00.000-08:00

Orginally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been published here. I suggest you read the article at the link given because that one is a tad complete!

Below is the lyrics of the song, that Watnabe sings during some of the scenes of the movie:

life is brief.

fall in love, maidens

before the crimson bloom

fades from your lips

before the tides of passion

cool within you,

for those of you

who know no tomorrow

Coming Soon!

2008-11-15T18:01:00.000-08:00

I have 1,000 ideas swarming in my head at the same time, but I generally I lose out on them during the course if time. So, for my benefit I would list out the following things I would be writing on.

1. Good Friend, Bad Friend
2. Movies I would have loved to watch first day, first show.
3. Dada, Jumbo and the Gen-X of Indian cricket.
4. Why A Wednesday is a far superior movie than Rang De Basanti.

Phew!

Of middle class, insignificant things and growing up with Indian Cinema.

2008-11-10T23:05:00.000-08:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been published here.

Cinema is still frowned upon in many of the middle class families; it is only logical when the first concern is fuelling the stomach, fuelling the heart comes at a much, much later stage. Though I grew up in a milder version of the aforementioned setting, I, like any other movie enthusiast watched movie after movie every Friday. Those were not the days of multiplexes, but hot, suffocating theaters. No nachos at the oh so swank counters, instead there was a huge clank of bottles with the bottle opener seconds before the intermission, accompanied with Thanda, Thanda.

I grew up watching a host of movies; good, bad, ugly, boisterous, boring, bullshit. 90’s was an interesting decade for lots of things were happening simultaneously at the same time, Mithun Da’s Aai-Yaee , Akhsay Kumar crushing the genitals of all the baddies and proclaiming I do all my stunts myself. And this used to be the talking point at our school. Saala kya hero hai. There were few actors, only heroes and heroines. Barring Aamir Khan, almost every ‘hero’ had the same weird hairdo, the shoulder long length hair, and mouthing dialogues which even their kaam waali would have cringed upon hearing. Even the goddamn interviews were the same; it’s a very different role. I’m sure I must have missed the interview, where someone would have said, the role was very challenging for me. I play a different rapist.

But that was cinema in those days; it was so detached from the real life. Barring few movies, almost every other movie seemed to follow a certain pattern. Religiously. Six-seven scenes cut to a song, then again six-seven scenes, cut to a song, and so on. It looked as if the movies were being made by a group of programmers paid to execute certain instructions. So I watched and watched and watched. And waited, and waited.

Week after week, it was the same stuff, same Switzerland, same snow, same hero, different heroine. (I swear on god, I have no problems with the chiffon sarees, and the sleeveless blouse amidst the snow capped peaks, the only problem I have is everything should gel with the story. Does anyone remember the Europe that DDLJ showed us? That was not Europe for the heck of it. In a similar vein Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was honest enough).

On the other hand, there was the same corrupt police officer Shinde, same corrupt, flawed ‘system’, same nobler than thou hero sometimes as police inspector, sometimes as the nobody. To quote Norton from Fight Club, everything was a copy of a copy of a copy. And the sad thing is, back then, I even used to enjoy some of them, not because they were good movies, but because I had no choice. If you have never seen Tendulkar bat, you would start liking Ashraful’s batting someday. I can bet on that.

So basically that was it, I had started wondering, is this what cinema is all about? Is it only about certain particular things? Does it have to be shown in a particular way? Why everything that is shown to us is perfect? Why are families always happy? And even if things are wrong, why are they so obviously wrong, that it makes me puke? Not at the wrongness, but the crassness in which it has been delineated. Why does everything oscillate in extremes? When would someone capture the simple delights of life, or was it an unimportant chapter ignored while writing the ‘rulebook’ of Indian cinema in that decade?( I didn’t know at that time, that movies like Saaransh had been made and forgotten long ago).

The late 90’s still produced some watchable movies, thanks to one man. Ram Gopal Verma. There was an instant connection with his movies. His most talked about work, Satya, was also about gangsters as thousands of other movies in the same decade were. The similarity ended right there. The execution just blew everyone. ‘Kyun be maarna tha? Ae Amitabh Bacchan marega kya? With Rangeela he changed the way heroines would be presented, and followed it up with absurdly funny Daud. Everyone had enough of the cheesy lines, and the Ram Rajya being shown on the screen, the tryst with realism had to begin somewhere.

I’ve had various moments in the cinema hall, where not the movie but the people watching it were the source of entertainment. The most recent one that I can remember goes something like this:
The movie was Mission Istanbul’lshit’, where in one of the scene, they had shown a look alike of George Bush. Cut to the conversation in back –

A “Saala, lagta hai bahut paisva kharcha kiya hai. Dekho, Jorj Boos bhi acting kar raha hai.”
B – Pagla gaye ho ka? E to pirated hai.”
( Translating the above, would rob all its charm!).

These are exciting times

2008-11-03T21:21:00.000-08:00

I woke up at 8 in the library, and checked my mail sleepy eyed. It was one of the most beautiful mails I had ever read. It was from PFC, they had invited me to become an author on their site. I was ecstatic. It meant I would be sharing space with people like Anurag Kashyap,Sudhir Mishra,Kundan Shah,Revathy, and hosts of other film makers and film journalists whose works I have only admired from a distance. I was contributing articles through their Project-I-View and it was absolutely wonderful to interact with some of the most passionate and knowledgeable people across the world. It is one forum where I am myself, and I can speak my mind without the risk of sounding a highly boring person. In real life, it is generally pretty tough to find people who are as passionate as you about certain things, and since the choices doesn't match, the conversation never goes into the depth, you wish they go. So, you compromise and talk about things you don't even know or want to. Because, who wants to be alone?

Everyone has got some crazy ideas, but when you don't meet like minded people it feels as if your ideas, and thoughts are bolted. Locking up ideas within yourself can be poisonous and frustrating at times. That was the prime reason I had started blogging. But, that news came as a sweet shock to me. I feel like a four year old. I'm delighted. Happy. Excited. This is the beggining of a new journey, and I don't even know what the destination is, but who cares about the destination when the journey itself is so beautiful.

My space small space in this mad, mad world.
http://passionforcinema.com/author/tanul/
:)

The (najayaz) Baap of all movies: Gunda

2008-11-01T14:01:00.000-07:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com.

Disclaimer: This post has lots of profanity. Acche ghar ki bahu, betiyan are advised to skip this post.

"There are three kinds of movies in this world. Good. Bad. And Gunda" - Ancient Chinese proverb.

I can't claim to write anything new( or refreshingly fresh) about this classic. But, that is what great things are about, it graciously shelters every one and gives each its own space. This is my humble dedication to GreatBong, the followers of this cult classic, and last but(t) certainly not the least, Prabhujee.

There are some movies which pushes the envelope of cinema to an extent that when you are done with the film, you are speechless. You don't know what just happened, were you thrown into an illusionary world of madness where nothing is what it seems? Has it ever happened with you? It has happened with me only two times. Once, when I watched Fight Club(David Finch's) and the other when I saw Gunda. Gunda is not only a movie, it is an epic, it is an epitome of what an ideal Bollywood movie should be. Never before has a movie seen such nicely etched characters, where their names not only rhymes with their motives, but also their appearnces. When was the last time world cinema saw such nicely etched characters? Don't you ever say movies like Reservoir Dogs, here the five goons(in one of the scenes) introduce themselves with some breathtaking dialogues. Not only the dialogues mirrors the demented state of this world, they are lyrical and poetic in nature. For a second, I was confused, whether this was Rime of the Ancient Mariner or the movie. But, that is the brillance of the dialogue writer Bashir Babar. He shows why S.T.Coleidge can never be Bashir Babar, but it is not the other way around. The dialogues rhymes with such efforltess ease that it elevates the movie to a level where movie makers can only see it, can never ,ever dare to go near it. Sample this video where each of the characters introduce themselves. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4uiQMI3riE.

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Mukesh Rishi - Naam hai mera Bulla rakhta hun khulla.

Shakti Kapoor - Mera naam hai chuttiya, acchi acchon ki khadi karta hoon main khatiya. bulli kahan hai teri ungli, bulla bhai ab hoga hulla gulla. police aur hukumat karegi hai bulla, hai chuttiya. Sab bolenge hai chttuiya, hai bulla. Arre dhoondho dhoondho kahan hai chuttiya,pakdo pakdo kahan hai bulla.

Mohan Joshi - Mera naam hai pote, jo apne baap ke bhi nai hote. Jaljala jaag utha hai, ab sabko pata chalega ki gang war start ho chuka hai. lashein aise tapkeingi jaise nanhe munne ke nunni se peshab tapakta hai. TAP. TAP.

Harish Patel - Mera naaam hai Ibu Hatela, maa meri chudail ke beti, baap mera shaitan ka chela, khayega kela?

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The above dialogues clearly gives you an insight on how layered the script is. Not only does it gives you a peek into the history of each and every character, the great Kanti Shah also pays homage to some of his favorite movies.

Sample this, when Ibu Hatela says, "Maa meri Chudail ki beti, baap mera Shaitan ka chela.:" He clearly means that his baap is an IAS officer who works for the corrupt ministers( and thus, Shaitan ka Chela), and since his mom is Chudail ki beti busy shaking legs(and god knows what!)with fellow chudailins, this poor hatela guy is all alone. So alone is this guy that he is dangerously close to violating the line of sanity, as depicted in Scorsese's Taxi Driver. Thus,Ibu Hatela's character is Kanti Shah's homage to this Scorsese classic. So this hatela guy's life is colorless until one fine day he realises that 'kela' is just not a fruit, but how 'fruitfull' it can become. So he starts social servicing his kela to ward off his lonelineness.

Now, when Bulla says Naam hai mera bulla rehta hun main khulla, it implies how uncluttered his mind is. That Bulla is so innocent that he is unaware of the decitful ways of this world. You culd have easily found him talking stupidly with one of the ladies waiting for their buses, and saying My Momma said stupid is who stupid does. Yes. Bulla's character is homage to the one of the most innocent characters in Cinematic world, who was always khulla(read transparent or innocent).Forrest Gump.( You shouldd see the incoence dripping from Bulla's eyes when he kills anyone!)

When Chuttiya says, Naam hai mera chuttiya, acche acchon ki khada karta hun main khatiya. khadi karta hun main khatiya, clearly means that he is unable to sleep, the insomniac behavior, the same problem which Norton was suffering in FightClub, the dig at the white collored jobs. Chuttiya is Shah's homage to Tyler Duren's character.

And when Mohan Joshi says, naam hai mera Pote jo apne baap ke bhi nai hote, shows the concept of selflessness, that whatever be, the 'self' shouldn't be sacrificed, the belief in the power of "I". No prizes for guessing, Pote is homage to Rand's hero Howard Roark.

This is a descripition of just many of the wonderful scenes.Each and every frame of this epic ought to be discussed, because this movie is equivalent to a painting, the different colors fusing with each other to give us something we can cherish for. Let's look at this scene now: from 4:55 to 6:18. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3BMCgNFd80&feature=related.

The najayaz son of Terminator II wants to rape the oh-so-awesome-touch-me-not-plant sister of prabhujee. She runs for one and a half seconds and then falls, and waits for 4 seconds so that the najayaz son of Terminator II can fall on her. Now, intense fight and bacha bachao, the calisthenics of Terminator II and his facial contortions make me believe that lady is raping him, not the other way around. Some second later, the hero comes(no, not prabhujee, some local disciple) and kicks the fuck out of the guy being raped. Then, the normal shukriya and crap follows, the guy asks, "Tum iss veerane me kya kar rahi ho?" If you see the video you would get the setting, it is a fucking desert, with only one electric pole(or something which resembles that, no double meaning here, if you count all the pole it would be two, as the hero is also standing besides her, but mind you, I'm a good boy!)in the vicinity. And the girl replies, "Main to college ja rahi thi." College in a desert? Yes, that is Kanti Shah's take on our educational system. Why there are nocolleges in the desert? In the jungles? When would institutes like IIT,IIMs come to desert? Why there is such a disparity?Why are educational oppurtunities not equal? You never know,but soon after that, a place in Rajasthan(close to the deserts),coaching institues begun to spring in large numbers in a place called Kota. Huge number of people are making it to the esteemed IIT's from that place now. Such was(and is, and will be)the power of Gunda.

The movie also corrodes our conscience on one very important thing. Rape. Kanti Shah's epic almost hoarse its lungs out - Why is Rape not a fundamental right? Why is Rape considered wrong? When will all the horny men of this world get a 'realise'? Why is being horny wrong? Cows have horns, they are not wrong, we worship them. Then, why adding a mere 'y' makes it so abominable? Also, there is an almost unwritten rule in Prabhujee's movie( this applies only to his sisters). The rules are:

1. If you are prabhujee's sister, you should, and you would be raped. Don't ask why. Ask when.

2. If you are prabhujee's sister, and you have not got the priviledge of being raped, contact the higher authorites as soon as possible and inquire when the needful would be done.

3. If the aforementioned points do not apply, you are not prabhujee's sister. Yes, it is true. Better luck next time.

I can go on and on, but go and cherish the masterpiece for yourself. As they say, ye to bas trailer poori film abhi baaki hai. Also, to make this masterpiece even more exciting, you can do a tarantino to Gunda. That is, you watch the last scene first, then see some random scenes in the middle, and then watch it from the first scene. Trust me on this, it won't make even an ounce of a difference, as comapred towatching it linearly. Isn't that one of the many intriguing things about this movie? Watch it for yourself, and I'm sure you would find lots more. The lovers of cult classics, my humble offering to you. Lastly,inspired by the poetic Bashir Babar I would leave you with two lines I cooked up on my own for the sheer love of my favorite movie.

Agar G**nd me hai gudda

To zaroor dekhna Gunda

Hello Chetan

2008-10-18T21:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Chetan,
Hi. Where should I begin? I was in class 12th while preparing for the joint entrance exam of IIT that I came across this book, Five Point Someone by a newbie Chetan Bhagat. At that time, I was in Bokaro(a sleepy town in Jharkhand) and I read that novel after 6 months( It came to my nearest bookstores after 6 months), but during those six months, I had kept track of the book, read each and every review on various sites, countless newspapers, read everything I could which was even remotely related to the book. I even read and re-read the excerpt of your book in your site and then one February night I got hold of the book. The first few pages gripped me, you know why? I thought the novel had no pretensions, it begun with a simple objective of telling a story, a story of three underperformers, a story of a brutally compeititive system, a story where protoganists found it refreshing to read porn in the morning. The characters were so us, the one liners suited the characters to a T. This was my introduction to a certain I-banker sitting away in Hong Kong, writing stories and creating characters that were so relatable. Although, I didn't find the book very good in the first read. Granted, it was a breezy read, but it didn't touch me that much. But, I went back to the book again, and again, and again. There were some great moments of subtelity that you had weaved in a very simpleton way. There were some really good things that you wanted to put across amidst the mindless humor. And then, three months later, I didn't clear IIT. But, those lines of Sameer stayed with me.. "Dad, sees hundreds of people who can make it to IIT, he doesn't thousands of others who can't." FPS had become a cushion since then, whenever the loser(me)felt bad, he used to read FPS. I knew you were not a Naipaul, not a Narayan, not even Upamanyu Chatterjee. But, you had created characters, I felt, I could find strolling in many of the colleges in India. That was Five Point Someone for me. I thought here is a new voice who speaks like us, heck even writes like us(!), he may not be a Naipaul. And thank god for that! He is We. And we are happy for that.

After that, I lapped up each and every piece of article of you that you wrote, because I loved reading what you wrote. That Deccan Heraled article of yours about the youth of India, touched me deeply, you were a huge influence. Then, you wrote this article on Rediff about how today's youth can bring about the change, I agreed to most of the points in that. I smiled when you wrote this http://evervacillating.blogspot.com/2006/12/can-engineers-be-touchy-feel-chetan.html. And I almost cried when you wrote this, http://evervacillating.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-stupid-suicide-plan-chetan-bhagats.html. I thought you were genuine, not one of those phony people we come across. So, I was eagerly awaiting for your next novel. One morning I picked up Delhi Times to find that you had come up with your new novel, One Night at the Call Centre, I was thrilled, excited, rushed to the bookstore the same evening and read it. In 3 hours. Straight.

I was dissapointed.

To compare ON@TTC to FPS would be a crime in itself, so I would not go into that. I felt the book had its moments(few, very few, but it still had that Chetan signature), for instance, in the one of the beggining pages, where Shyam kind of rfaced an identity crisis in front of his relatives(who were there for marriage), that car scene, when Priyanka says..Oops! This is not as cool as Titanic. I laughed out loud on that. But, these and only couple of more were of any substantial interest. I don't say that every word written by an author is meant to be gripping, but even in terms of execution and plot, One Night was an insipid effort. But still, I didn't lose out hope on you, I still expected a lot from you. And I felt critics were a bit harsh on you. You were India's Nick Hornby, and I loved it when you said that I can't write a novel where they descirbe some village in Kerela the first 25 pages, you had nailed it with that comment of yours. And then, I read the '3 mistakes of my life'.

I just loved the first 70-80 pages, it took me back to my days( I also grew up in a rather small town), it was kind of a Malgudi Days feeling. I couldn't believe that you could even write like this. I was amazed and happy, but after that the book was a bastard child of Bollywood at best. I'm being polite when I say the book was pathetic after that. It was even worse than that. The cliched story of Ali, and his even sugar coated patriotism was to best put - very badly executed. And you can't say that I don't know the people of my country and that is why I say this, but the way you put it was so into the face, and infact everything after that was not what I expected from you. I had fought, argued with many of my friends about you. They said Chetan's novel are drivel and stuff like that, but I repeatedly told them it is unfair to compare Chetan to those literary stalwarts, Chetan has his own little place(this was before your '3 mistakes' came). But, after I read the '3 mistakes..' my opinion slowly started vacillating. But, all was not lost. You had the movie Hello up your sleeve( as a Story and Screenplay writer), and I thought if the movie could be atleast faithful to the novel, the movie could be a decent watchable flick which is a rarity for bollywood. Because, at the end of the day the movie would not be a DVD remake. It could still be an honest effort. And I would love to applaud you for that.

I managed to watch Hello today( as I'm not in India, I had not seen the promos of the movie on the T.V.), and the first scene shocked me. Salman Khan coming down from a chopper, Is this the One Night.. I read? And then he dances on a hip-hop number to one of the most trash lyrics ever written. Okay, I don't expect a Gulzar in a Hip-Hop song but still. And why the hip hop song in the first place? Chetan, were you dancing in the desolate compartment in the opening pages of the novel? And from there on, what I saw, I was totally repelled, the actors were not the characters of the book, even when Sharman Joshi leaves his job, there is an irritating Bollywood ma and a sibling. Very typically Bollywoodish( in a very negative sense). Dalip Tahil wears a tie which has the stripes of a U.S. flag, has a big idiotic photo frame in his office, hums a tune of New york, New york at his urinal, I mean is this is going deep into the character? I seriously didn't find anything funny in the movie, the novel had more moments than the movie. I mean some of the comedy scenes( the urinal one for instance)looked straight out of some David Dhawan movie. Now, don't jump the gun and start labeling me a pseudo and say that's your problem I like David Dhawan. You know what, even I love David Dhawan's movie( I know you are a Govinda fan), but the sad thing is, that urinal scene reeked of a bad David Dhawan movie.
I would like to quote Aniket( one of the previous comments), Do you really think One Night/Three Mistakes is even remotely close to what you could have really done?
I don't think so. You have dissapointed me big time with you r movie. And yes, one more point, I dislike your high handed attitude in this post. Is commercial succes the ONLY yardstick of a QUALITY work? You think so? Really? Aap ka Surroorrr(!) was one of the succesfull movies of last year, Was it good? Even bearble? What do you think? i know, I know getting appreciated gives everyone a high, but you should learn to accept the brickbats. If you want to continue on this high handed trip of yours, I'm sure you would give more duds like Hello.

And, it really hurts when you say that the critics(I'm not a critic, by the way) can't define fun or coolness. It seems you are personally attack them en masse. Whatever review I have read about the movie by people like Raja Sen, Rajeev Masand, Mayank Shekhar resonated with my views after watching the movie. ALthough,I think Mayank took it a bit far by calling One Night a pulp novel. These people know what they talk about and are a respected lot, just because your movie was not good, doesn't make them dumb quibs. Shooting from the hip may seem to be the easiest option, not necessarily the right one. So, I guess you would learn from your mistakes and contact people who realyl know about good cinema( and also know fun and being cool) and get their feedback on the movie. Because, Hello was neither.

I don't want to be one of the numerous fans 'Hello-Chetan-your movie/blog/book rox- you are the best-take-bye' , because I think if you can get your bearing right, you can go places(just as FPS did). I didn't intend to be rude, but somewhere down the line I thought of calling spade a spade, so I wrote this piece. You might not even think about it, whatever. But, if you do, it would make me and a lot others like me very happy. Because, we haven't seen the best of you, we haven't seen the best from you.
If you feel anythinhg was exaggerated or incorrect, feel free to mail me.

Take Care,
A Dissapointed fan.

My Roommate

2008-09-17T13:22:00.000-07:00

Taken from my roommate's diary. Word to word.

One month just flew past in a new country. Everything has kept me amazed, enchanted. The system, the place, the people, the food, and the University, of course. I wish I could have said the same about my roommate though. I'm not saying he is bad, but he is definitely not the my kind of a guy. We don't tick of together, so as to say, and I'm really having a difficult time adjusting with him. We have the same major and our most of the classes are same, but still I'm not being able to connect with him, and I'm certain is vice-versa also.

Firstly, I don't understand what kind of a guy he is. I also don't understand what does he wants to do with his life. He reads novels all the time, watches movies, writes( or blogs as he says) and I don't know what not. He is pretty entangled into the web of his own which he has so gleefully constructed. I don't know what joy he derives from that. He rarely studies and the sad part is, when the assignments are due, he just copies it from me. I mean what the heck. Bloody Irritating, I tell you. You literally work your backside off for the damn assignments and there he is at a distance, for the whole week enjoying himself and so conveniently copies from me a day before. As a result, we end up having the same marks. I don't have problems with him getting marks, but still, show some honesty.

And I seriously don't get, what he gets by doing all kinds of things. Haven't we come here to study, why the heck is he wasting his time? I asked him once, "Man, why are you wasting your time?"
He replied, "I'm not"
I asked again, "Don't you have to study?"
He said, "Yes. I have to. But, issme bada mazaa aa raha hai yaar!"
I asked again, "What are you doing?"
He replied, "Movie"
"Which one?"
"Mullholland Drive. David Lynch. Mind boggling man!"

Mull-what? And who Lynch? I left him at that. And I've asked him two more times, as to what he was doing, as I thought he should be studying at that time. To which he replied, "Blogging" once and "Reading(Novel)" the other time around. Seriously, this guy is difficult to understand. He is unnecessarily making life difficult for him.

What will he gain by blogging? By watching movies?( and that too by directors around the globe who have one kilometer long names and they make equally weird movies). He showed me once this movie, said its mind blowing and the sets of adjectives he has memorised to praise anything under the sun. The movie was 'Taxi Driver'. Such a boring and listless movie I haven't seen in my entire life. What crap man. What was there in the movie? Bullshit. I'm a big fan of Hollywood but not the kind of movies this guy sees. I like Adam Sandler and those kinds of movies. That is the point, our tastes don't match at all. Not at all. And also when it comes to movies, novel this guy is very, very opinionated. One day I got pissed off by his 'See-I-know-so-much-about-everything' that I asked him, "Dude, Hang on. Are you planning to direct a movie someday?"
"No," he said.
"Do you plan to become a movie critic?"
"No," he said.
"Will you become an author someday?"
"No," he said.
I wanted to shout, What the fuck man! Shut up and stop flaunting your supposedly great ideas in front of me. You know what he is a big hypocrite. The biggest that I've ever seen. A bundle of contradictions.
"Then?" I asked, more irritated than surprised.
"Passion yaar! I like doing these things. I really like it," He said.
That has to be the lamest reply of the century. Though I didn't reply anything to him, I simply kept quiet. Because the kind of hyper and short tempered the guy he is, we would have ended up fighting. Anyways. I will tell you about this guy's passion and his heights of hypocrisy. We had to take a Humanity course, and there were like 300-400 options to choose from. And before the orientation, our seniors had told us to take the 'Asian Mythology' because it was one subject in which it was easy to score an A, as the subject had stuff related to Ramayana and Mahabharata which we had already studied. So, once we were discussing about about to take as a Humanity course I said, " I will take Asian Mythology. The seniors have told us its easy to get an A in that. And getting a good GPA is of prime importance."

He replied," Give me a break man. Asian Mythology? The stuff which we have studied and known about it for ages? What will you 'learn' from taking Asian Mythology? Take something which excites you dude. You've come to States for learning something, this is the only place which gives you a chance to do what you are best at. Don't take an Asian Mythology and ridicule your likings."

Everyone was drop dead silent. I asked, "What are you planning to take?"
He said, "ENGL 104. Introduction to World Cinema"

As usual, I went and registered myself for the Asian Mythology course after meeting my advisor the next day. I saw him getting out of the Engineering Hall and asked him, "What did you take?"
His face told me the whole story. With a voice as heavy as his guilt he replied, " Asian Mythology." I didn't demand anything. He explained me, "Yaar! I asked the seniors again, they said these literature types courses are damn difficult to get an A in. But, never mind I've met an American guy and he has taken the World Cinema course. I will keep in touch in with him and if at the end of the semester he says, an A is gettable then I would take the course" He siad and walked away.

That's him. He is nothing but just a common man, who wants good grades, good job, a decent lifestyle. Just like each one of us. So, all that talk about Passion and liking is bullshit. He is faking himself. At the surface he is this guy who is confident and knows what he is doing. But, I'll tell you what he is. He is just a pseudo-intellectual who is a coward. Had he not been a coward he would not have chosen World Cinema over Asian Mythology. You see, He has come to States for learning something, this is the only place which gives him a chance to do what he is best at. He shouldn't take an Asian Mythology and ridicule his likings. Yes, very right. He would swim with the tide, like each one of us. Just that he is too chicken to admit it.

I've a feeling, I won't like Ghajini.

2008-09-08T21:19:00.000-07:00

Originally Written for Passionforcinema.com. The article with amazing scathing comments has been published here

Movies like Memento gets made once in a while. It has nothing to do with the story, it has nothing to do with the direction, it has nothing to do with the cinematography, it has everything to do with the execution(Now, I'm not saying that direction,editing,cinematography was not good. It was A-class. No second thoughts there for sure. But, the point here is the movie doesn't STAND out for me due to these factors.) I mean the whole movie was gnifkcuf backwards. How more innovative can you get? And not only it was innovativeness, Nolan did a damn cool job of changing one's thought process and the way one analyses each character. You side/sympathise/loathe with some characters in the beginning and after a point it is the other way around. How many movies have been able to achieve that? Not many. I'm sure. This is what makes Memento great. This is what makes Memento MEMENTO. This is film making raised to the power infinity.

And then comes Murugadoss, says he was inspired by Nolan and he wrote his own version of the film. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing. Although, I still feel Surya's body tattooing( just like Leonard's method of remembering things) is too much of a coincidence if not anything else. Now, the movie might be completely different from what Memento is, or what Memento showed. But, it would be very tough for me to watch the movie in isolation. I mean granted, the movie might not be a Memento, but hasn't it taken the central idea( and also the tattoo's part?) . And then what does the director do? He adds an Asin, subtracts some clothes, adds some songs again, shows us a love angle?

Why?

Why so accommodating all of a sudden Murugadoss? And then Aamir Khan steps in. The man who knows it all, have been there and done that kind of air with him. "Momento I couldn't understand," he writes with a nonchalance. Also, he didn't 'enjoy' it too. No problems there too. Movies are just like opinions. To each his own. Disliking 'Momento' doesn't make Aamir a bad actor/director. But, what does he do to make the movie talked out, is to get a new look for the movie. I mean how bloody convenient? You took one of the strongest ideas, played around with it. Walked with it upto a certain extent and then when you developed cold feet, added what the audience would like? I'm not against songs, romance in the movie( esp. Hindi movies) but, just for the heck of it? Build up an original idea, do what so ever you want to do with it. Make love to it, seduce, rape. Whatever. But the idea has to be yours.

But, please don't flinch someone else's idea, toy with it mercilessly, get someone to back you up by saying, I didn't 'enjoy' it. Though that 'someone' is the superstar is a different thing all together. I wouldn't have any problems had Ghajini been Murugadoss's and only Murugadoss's baby, I would have cared too hoots. Had he added a zillion songs, it wouldn't have mattered. Though all said and done, I'm yet to watch the movie( as is everyone). But, I would be very, very sad if Murugadoss kills one of my favourite movies of all time.

Good Friend, Bad Friend( Fiction) - I

2008-08-31T21:05:00.000-07:00

Hi! I'm Abhishek. What possibly interesting things can I tell you about myself? Except for the fact that I died last week? Is there anything, no correct that, was there anything special about me? Something worth telling? May be there was, may be there wasn't. I don't know for sure. I was this normal guy, had some simple dreams of getting good grades in college, screwing a chick, getting a good job. Well, I died. Fuck that. Let's move on, I was onto something else...

I died pretty recently. But, I'm not going to tell you how I died. Are you really interested? Okay. I will tell you, but, there was nothing dramatic about it. Pretty much old school you know, a little bit of cough and all that shit. I might come to it later, not now.

I didn't even achieve much in life, so no point going there too. I mean if becoming Man of the Series for the Mohalla World Cup is an achievement, then, yes, my life rocked. Big time. If not, then may be your kaamwaali have achieved more in her life. Sorry about the bad joke. Okay, one last time, are bad jokes an achievement?

So, that zeroes down to the two most precious people in my life. Samar and Abhinav. My friends. And whatever next I'm going to tell you is about them.

I guess it was the winter of December, and I was in the 9th standard. My Dad had just been transferred and thus, I came to this city, I was uncomfortably new to the place. Alien. I knew no one, no one knew me. There was nothing special about the first few weeks, I followed a mechanical cycle of going to school, coming back from it, attending tuitions, eating, sleeping. Every brick, every desk, every goddamn thing of the school gave cold vibes to me. Unacceptable was stamped authoritatively everywhere. I don't know why. I longed for my previous school, my previous friends.

Then, one day, during the lunch period, a fat bespectacled guy came towards my desk and asked me ,"Is anyone sitting here. You mind if I sit here?"

" No one is sitting here. Sit, I have no problems." I said.He smiled. He was wearing braces, I noticed. And said ," Hi. I'm Abhinav"

"I'm Abhishek."

"So, you are new to this school?""Yes. My dad got transferred to this place two weeks back."

"So, you liking the place?" He was trying to make me comfortable. Most importantly, he was talking to me.

"Yea, Actually..." I was interrupted, as some one shouted very loudly from the last bench."Abhi my bitch! Whats up? I wanted to ask you something?,"

"Yea, what?" Abhinav replied without even looking at him.

" Can I bite your tits?"

The entire last bench exploded into fits of laughter. I looked at his chest. He was, to describe in a very brash way, busty.

Abhinav didn't retort as I had expected him to do. He just adjusted his glasses and showed him the middle finger. "Who is he?" I asked.

"He's the certified bastard of our class. Ignore him".

The bell rang and the lunch period got over. As Abhinav and I were drinking water at the water tap, I saw Samar quietly standing behind Abhinav. As Abhinav turned around, Samar grabbed Abhinav's chest with his hands and said, "My Boobie babe! Got you at last" And started laughing loudly along with his friends. They all looked like a gang to me. The typical bank benchers of any school. I wanted Abhinav to slap Samar. Tightly. Instead he said, " Abe Paka Mat! Nikal yahan se."

Samar started imitating him "Abe paka mat. Paka mat. Paka mat. Puk-Puk-Puk-Puk Paka mat. Murga Saala," They scorned and left. I could see a hint of tears in Abhinav's eyes.

I asked, " Are you Okay. Why didn't you tell them anything? You should have thrashed him," I was angry myself. "Abe chhod na. Just ignore them. Tu inse bas door reh"

"Okay. I will," That's all I managed.

Now, after having interacted with at least someone in the class made life a lot easier for me. Atleast, there was someone now with whom I could share my lunches, go to assembly hall, chat while cycling my way back home.

One of the many conversations with Abhinav, while returning back home:

"So Abhinav, how are you in studies?" I had asked it pretty abruptly. We were chatting on something else, and then suddenly I had popped up this question. I don't know why. I just wanted to know.

"Studies? Yea, I'm pretty Ok types."

Pretty Ok. A very safe answer, I thought. Pretty Ok could have meant just about anything.

Some days later, I came to know that there was one guy who had continuously topped the class for 6 goddamn years. Abhinav Sharma. I reflected on my silly question and the sillier interpretations of Abhinav's answer, and smiled.

Abhinav was smart, but he was not a teacher's pet. He used to do all sorts of weird things in class, draw( I have no clue what), write poems( which he would cover, if I managed to sneak a look), talk continuously, crack non- funny jokes and laugh alone. But, he was always up there whenever teacher asked us to solve some problems. He used to be the first one to solve. Everytime. The boy had brains.

" Oye Abhi! Chal Let's play," I said. It was the games period. The only games period of the whole week.

"No. No, I'm not interested," He said as if he didn't care. "You go and play,"

"What you go and play? Don't you want to play?" I said. "This is the only games week of our period. What are we supposed to do then?"

"You go and play if you want, don't push me," He said, adjusting his spectacles back to the eyes which was half crouched on his nose, as a result of speaking animatedly, which I guess didn't come naturally and cheerfully to Abhinav.

"Ok. Fine. Fuck off! Don't play if you don't have to do. I'm not going to stick in that library of yours," I said and stromed to the playing field, though I was pretty sure I won't be given a fair chance in the playing field too but atleast it was better than doing nothing at all. I made it to the field in time. They had just begun sorting out the players for the cricket match. The procedure was really uncomplicated. There were around 20 odd students in the field and each captain had to choose players for his team amongst the bunch, turn by turn. It generally so happened, that the better players were always selected in the beginning and the lesser ones were selected in the end. And the most humiliating part was when it came down to only two players and finally when ultimately a certain player was left out. By defualt, he belonged to the team whose turn it was to call. But , really, wasn't it humiliating for that guy. Look, no one wants me.

I was a half decent allrounder of my team in my previous school. You know the kind of guys who bat a little, bowl a bit. The likes of Lance Klusner, and Scott Styris. Relax. That is just an example. In the previous school's team selection I was always amongst one of the first few to be selected. I provided 'flexibility' to the team, they told me.

But today, as I was standing when everyone's names was being called. I waited and waited to be selected. Everyone was getting selected except me. I don't think they knew I existed. It felt bad. It was not a District level match, but atleast it dent my 'Atleast-I'm-a-good-player-to-represent-my-school-team' ego. And then I got selected into Samars' team, just because I was the last guy no team had taken.

We lost the toss and were fielding. Everyone was standing near the captain. He was instructing everyone where to field, "Accha sun," he said to me. "Tu point pe ja," He said.

I was sharply startled by what he said. Point? Were we playing a real cricket match? This was Cricket at its lowest. A maddening batter's dictate to a pulp tennis ball. But still I trudged along to 'Point'. I roughly estimated where Point could have been and stood there.

Samar cried "Yaar Abhishek! Tu kahan khada hai? That is Cover Point. Thoda square ja."

What the heck? I thought, Why is he taking himself so seriously?

It was a 10 overs match, so that we could finish the match during 1 period. I was standing blankly at the pointless Point. I was sure that I would not get a chance either to bowl or bat. I just hoped not to screw the fielding part atleast. But, in the first 6 overs the battign team had belted 62 runs in 6 overs. That is mammoth even my tennis ball cricket standards. Run rate of 10 tens an over. No, make that 10.33 to be precise. I remembered Abhinav fondly. Samar had already tried 5 bowlers. He called me, "Can you bowl?" He asked me starightforward.

"Yes, but I'm more of a batsman who can bowl a bit," I said.

"Can you bowl?"He asked again. Very rudely.

"Yes, I can. Sure enough." I replied and snatched the ball from him.

This was my chance, I had to prove it to them, show them of what stuff I was made up of. The next 6 balls were going to decide what kind of friends I would have in school. I gave a hardened look to the batsmen, took a long run up, ran as fast as I could, grunted, and bowled the fastest I could have.

To be continued...

Shitty Shitty Bang Bang!

2008-08-27T21:54:00.000-07:00

The text of this post is very gross. Please stay away, if, stuff of this kind offends you. Thank You!

I dedicate this post to all the public toilets of the world.

Shitting has always been a very personal thing for me( What a profound statement to make. Isn't it for everyone else too? Anyways.), so I got and still get, though with a lesser magnitude - worked up, when I got to know that the dorm in which I had moved in had a public toilet(4 toilets for 20 people, not a very bad ratio also, although that is a different story). I had never shared toilets before. I mean, even if I had, they were structurally different than this. The previous ones, were closed ones, and this has a cubicle of sorts, which throws up a wonderful prospect of people shitting together. Literally.

Isn't it strange when you are shitting, alongside there is a guy/girl who is also doing the same(Not every time, but generally most of the times). What would he be doing at this time? Dropping and feeling relieved?( how much relieved to be precise?), or waiting to feel relieved and singing some songs in anticipation?( Rafi's Aa Jaa Aa Jaa or Britney's Baby One More Time?), he might also be sleeping for all you know or wiping his ass? Horrendous pictures of tissues painted in various shades of yellow come to mind.

Shitting is not only a biological exercise for me, but also, a physical( I yawn very loudly in Hindi, stretch my muscles, cock my head, make all sounds of noise with remote bones in my body) and an emotional one too( Isn't it? You have the all time in world when you shit. You are at peace with yourself. Nowadays, with the increasingly busy life( don't I sound like a typically sex starved working middle aged frushtoo guy?) where does one get time to think for himself? for others? When I shit I think about things close to my heart, this is the time when I'm in my best moods and is generally accompanied by singing some song. Now, when you are shitting in your home, it doesn't matter how loudly/softly sing, neither does the talent of your vocal chords. But, when you are shitting in a public toilet, you can't sing. And that irritates me. It curbs your independence, it doesn't let you be you. I could have done that in India, but, how can I in United States? It has nothing to do with the quality of people, neither to do with the quality of the country. It has to do with the quality of songs. I mean imagine, me singing ' Sarkailiyo Khatiya/Takia/whatever Jaada lage' and the guy shitting beside me gets disturbed due to that. What will he do then? You never know. These Americans are dangerous. He might scoop his head out of the common wall underneath and say, " Dude, Stop that song of yours. It disturbs my bowel movement." Now, that won't be so good. On second thoughts, will he knock the common wall before scooping his head out?

And I've a weird habit of looking here and there while shitting( I mean all around, 360 degrees) and it is kind of strange, you can only watch a guy's shoe and some parts of his shorts covering his lower part of legs. It is kind of interesting to note what kind of footwear he is wearing, and also the color of his lowers. Some colours surely put me off( though they in anyway don't disturb my bowel movements), but that is what the thing is. Then, after few minutes you hear the sound the flush produces and you know this relationship is going to end. You kind of feel bad. But, hasn't someone wisely said, 'All things in life have to end'. Now, you come out, possibly an eye contact, which might suggest a lot of things; My God! You were there for a freaking half an hour, what were you up to? Or, Get yourself a nice pair of floaters before you even think of shitting again. Or, You used a lot of tissue today, I could make out that from the squealing of the tissue paper's stand.

On the contrary, you might not think any of these. May be, you just smile and say, "It was nice shitting with you."

The common Wall I described in my post!

Fountainhead the movie fails

2008-08-24T09:45:00.000-07:00

Originally written for Passionforcinema.com. The article has been originally published here.

First things first. People differ over what Fountainhead represents( whether it is right or wrong) and an endless debate is ensued over this fact, I don’t want to get into any of that. I intend to talk only about ‘Fountainhead the movie’.

What was strikingly different from the novel is the depth of characterization. In the novel’s beginning, you could feel for Roark’s frustration when he laughs sitting on the cliff or his indifference to everyone to the extent that he saw no one walking in the street so much so that he could have walked naked beyond concern. That is the relationship (love or loathe) one forms with Howard Roark in the first two pages of the novel. You can feel Roark’s frustration when he is sitting in the dean’s offixe and is being unfailingly persuaded by the dean. The dialogues between the dean and the student are fantastic.( Agreed, they are filmy and a bit impractical, but, so is the whole of premise of the novel, if you may so please). The dean is furious that Howard is unapologetic, the dean can’t believe that the name ‘Stanton’ can’t shake his will, that for the first time he has encountered someone who considers an individual above the institution, that the person who is going to expel the student feels more clueless than the student who is being expelled.

Contrary to the novel, the movie begins quite abruptly with Howard being in the dean’s office and he says that he will have to expel him. For someone, who might have not read the novel would take some seconds to gather, relax what’s happening? There is no conflict of ideas between the Neo and the established, between the unconventional man and the conventional world, no groundwork has been set, you don’t feel Roark’s stubbornness neither do you see Dean’s helplessness. And that was the beauty of the novel I feel. I mean, for a second, f**k all talk about Objectivism and everything, whether you buy it or not is inconsequential. What matters is every character in the novel was beautifully etched, and you could have easily said that I hate/love this character. There is no such feeling in the movie. And that, I feel is the problem of the movie. That it never goes deep into the psyche of the characters and just sets it up on the screen. Probably for the heCk of it. Everything happens in a daze, in a nonsensixal hurried fashion that makes you sit and wonder – what’s up with the pace? And that is my grievance with the film, that it doesn’t do justice to the novel. Now, some people might say they that had they gone into the history or detailing of every character the movie itself would have been too long. Yes. I agree there too, because if you go on to do full justice to the novel the movie could well be more than three hours long which would have been a torture in itself( or may be not. Who know? Gone with the wind, Lagaan, Sholay were all more than 210 minutes long!). Also, the characters in the novel are such that they are difficult to portray on screen. It is practically impossible to take out each and every detail from a book and incorporate that into a movie. I agree. Successful adaptations of the ‘Mystic River’, ‘The Godfather’ bolster this point.

So, my point is ‘The Fountainhead’ shouldn’t have been made into a movie. At least not the way they made it. Gary Cooper fails miserably as the ‘hero’. Or, may be anyone who will play Howard Roark will fail. Because, the image that people have come to associate with Howard Roark is difficult to fathom. Isn’t it difficult to portray someone who didn’t exist? Someone who will not exist?

Gary Cooper lacks conviction while delivering his lines, may be didn’t understand most of it. (he wanted the courtroom speech to be curtailed because he was finding it difficult to memories and understand most of the lines). When Cooper (Roark) refuses the commission for a bank, his ‘No’ is a flat. It lacks the authority. When Howard Roark says ‘No’ I expect it to spit fire on screen, the ‘No’ should spit venom, have the stamp of authority and pummel the man conversing him in such an ignominy that it makes a mockery of anyone who is even thinking of trying to convince Roark . When Henry Cameroon says on his death bed, Do you want to have a similar fate like me, Cooper’s ‘Yes’ is again non- authoritative. May be I’m expecting too much? May be I’m being a bit too judgmental? May be yes, because I almost adored the novel, the power of Rand’s writing blew me and compared to that the movie was pale. The main thing about Rand’s writing is you can either love her or hate her. She doesn’t allow you to tread a middle path, but, after watching the movie my emotions didn’t tilt towards any extreme (which certainly did while reading the novel). I was plain indifferent and disappointed.

Manorma Six Feet Under: A Six Pack sexy movie!

2008-08-18T18:41:00.000-07:00

Originally written for - Passionforcinema.com. The artixle has been originally published here.

If you go by the 'white is white, black is black' definition of right and wrong, then Manorma Six Feet Under is a copy of Chinatown. And it kind of bothered me a wee bit before I sat down watching it. But, not after that. Not even a wee bit. I had not seen Chinatown by that time. And I chanced to see Chinatown couple of days later, and my admiration of Manorma Six Feet increased further. Albeit inspired (or copied, or whatever), this is a good movie. No doubt.

The movie opens in a Rajasthan, where the land is as thirsty for water as is the protagonist (Abhay Deol playing Satyaveer) thirsty for recognition, success. The vast, dry land as a backdrop make for good visuals. In particular, the scenes where the protagonist is shown driving his vehicle. Simple. Captivating. SV, an engineer by profession, a pulp novelist by passion is finding it difficult to get his life moving courtesy a nagging wife, an unsuccessful job.

One day, he meets Sarika and she gives a purpose to his humdrum life. He has to click some photos for her, so that she may be able to blackmail her 'politician' husband and which may facilitate the process of divorce for her. SV soon comes to know that things are not as straight forward as he thought they were. Speeding one night on the highway, he meets her again. She is very panicky and says something to him. The next morning he reads the paper. She is dead. And she was not the wife of Chief Minister. SV is obviously startled by this sudden revelation and wants to put to rest all the confusion.

The movie moves at a good pace initially, fully in control, holding the viewer's interest, scenes tend to merge into one another comfortably. However, somewhere in the middle (and that is the movie's negative point), the movie becomes painfully slow. Everything ceases to happen. You feel you can go take a cold drink from your fridge, reply to your friend's scrap, send an SMS or two and still it won't affect you. Not very thriller like, you would want to say. May be the comatose pace in between is intentional, it contrasts well with the full of twists, exciting and a good paced climax. The sudden change of gears takes you aback. The movie's climax is icing on the cake. It moves swiftly and makes you question your judgment about every character. No one is 'noir' here in the literal sense; the grayness of the character makes a compelling climax.

Performance wise, Abhay Deol carries the movies on his shoulders. I was never a fan of Abhay Deol. But, after watching 'Socha Na Tha' and 'MSFU' in a space of two weeks, I am now. He may not be the next big thing in boll wood, but he is here to stay. In this movie, he plays the role of a frustrated man to a T. the frustration is there, you can feel it. It never comes out though, but you think it can. Anytime. That is the beauty of the character and the way Abhay Deol has portrayed it. In the movie, the guy may be 25, but looks like 35, and acts like 45. Sarika lights up the screen every time she appears and sparkles in a small role. Kulbhushan Kharbhanda has nothing special to offer, Vinay Pathak doesn't disappoint. Raima Sen is not breathtaking, but she is not bad either to spoil the movie. Gul Panag could have been a tad better with her pronunciations. I liked the way she pronounces 'Editor' as 'A-Dee-tur' in her first scene but after that her pronunciation is a bit polished for comfort. She acts pretty well though, something I was pleasantly surprised at. Background music is superb. It is slow, subtle and is faithful to the movie's pace.

This movie might not be a Chinatown. And somewhere down the line, I think the makers of MSFU knew that. Albeit an inspired story, the execution is top class. A good movie. A good tribute to a good movie. Polanski would be happy to see Manorma Six Feet Under.

My Brother....Santosh

2008-08-01T22:43:00.000-07:00

Some relations need not be associated with a tag or a formal assignation to make you feel emotionally bonded. There are certain relations which gets formed automatically. Santosh Bhaiya is one of them. He doesn’t belong to my family but is a part of my family, we don’t have blood relation but I have always felt very, very attached to him. I’ve had the best days of my life with him. The best days. I can never, ever forget those moments spent with him and bhaiya( Tushar ). The three of us used to have a ball when mummy and papa used to go out of station for some medical conference and the entire house was left to the three of us. We used to play cricket, watch cricket, do all sorts of crazy things, spearheaded by bhaiya( Tushar). Right from blowing a Chocolate Bomb( those Diwali Bombs, remember?) in the very own dining room to throwing slippers at the television when an Indian player used to play badly. Or, breaking certain things and trying failingly to conceal it from mummy. Santosh Bhaiya used to cook for us( I can’t forget the Chowmein, Maggi and Chicken Curry). He used to advise us, play with us, scold us. He was our father, mother, brother when mom and dad were not around. And I thank god that there were plenty of medial conferences because had they not been, I could have never, ever lived such a life.
Santosh Bhaiya was just a simple compounder in my dad’s clinic but we never treated him like that. He was my brother, my mom’s third son. My brother. It is one relation in my life I’m really proud of. I used to go to him with my Hindi book and he used to ask me questions from the chapter I recently memorized( preparation for exams), he used to get those ‘Big Fun’ chewing gums which had a card of a cricketer free with it. He used to bring one daily. When Bhaiya used to tease me after watching ‘Aahat’ and ‘Zee Horror Show’ ( which I NEVER watched), I used to run away from my room and go to Santosh Bhaiya’s room and sleep on his bed. Sometimes, in the middle of night when I used to have bad( read scary, full of snakes and everything, a bad filmy dream :) ) dream( which was, ahem, almost daily) I used to hug Santosh Bhaiya and sleep on his bed. And somehow I can never, ever forget those things. The little way in which he used to care for us. There was a special relation between us and only we know it- Me, Bhaiya and Santosh Bhaiya.

We also used to go eat out every evening. And I used to say, “ Santosh Bhaiya kuch baahar khila dijiye, hisaab me likh lijiega and paisa papa se le lijiega”. And we used to eat out daily. Egg Roll, Chicken Roll, Chowmein, Chicken Chilly, Pakodas and what not on one of those numerous ‘thelas’. And even today whenever we meet, although we can go out and eat in a swanky place, but we NEVER do it. We still go to those ‘thelas’ and live our life. Yes, that was life. That was happiness. That was fun.

Now, he is a married man and lives separately with his family. He has got a daughter who is 4 years old. She has recently started going to school. It has been 14 years since I have known Santosh Bhaiya and now I’m going to United States. I mean, yes, I would meet him again, but it kind of feels strange. I don’t know when I would meet him and how, my own life would entangle me I’m sure. But, whatever happens, one thing is for sure. I promise myself that I will look after his family real well. I will make sure that his daughter gets the best education possible. I know I would be in a situation to help and help would I.

There are some people with whom parting would not be easy and Santosh bhaiya for sure is one of them.

Politics that roots deep

2008-08-01T22:37:00.000-07:00

Edit Post: With whatever intention the article was written, and whatever it meant to convey, has been explained by me in the second comment. I don't want anyone to misinterpret what i have written.

Family, in this post doesn’t represent my father, mother or brother. It is the whole big, fat and huge collection of Uncles and Aunties. In short, family members from both sides. Both, paternal and maternal.

The most frequent question I’m being hounded by my family members these days is, ‘ Tanu! Tum to India aaoge nai ab?’ now, I don’t have any problems whatsoever with this question, but with the pure malicious intent it is thrown at me. It is extremely irritating. Family is a good thing to have, and that too with such a big family as mine who ‘assume’ are pretty well connected with each other. So what they bitch at their own relatives back, so what if they smile at you and leave no chance of passing tones of sarcasm, so what if any achievement of some one else’s son becomes a bone of contention for them, but they fake it so well. One moment they bitxh about another relative and next moment they meet as if they are lost sisters meeting again after centuries. Any amount of achievement meets their scrutiny,

‘ Arre xyz ka ladka? Haan Haan uska to admission donation se hua hai’ ,
‘ Abc ko to boards me sirf 85% hi aaya hai’.
‘ Accha college kya hai? Bahut mahenga hai, wahan to bas paisa waala log padhta hai’,
'Dekho ABC kaise poore parivaar ka naam hansaya hai. Love marriage kiya na. Punjabi hai ladki, pata hai aapko? Inter Caste’

These are some of the comments you can easily hear (or overhear) by some of the family members whose sole purpose of life is to bitch, bitch, bitch. I mean even after their own relatives. Bloody family politics and back biting is their favorite game and their favorite venue is Shaadis, any festival where the family get together happens or even generally. When they meet anyone after a long time. Who needs a reason to bitxh? I’m not saying they bitch about me or something. And even if they bitch, I xare two hoots. They bitxh, is the thing that bothers me. I mean what kind of a family we are trying to build? No. correct that. What kind of family THEY are trying to build? And most importantly, they sometimes criticize about other family members in front of their children thus, prejudicing their children’s mind also.

So, coming back to me going to Um-rika, that is the best way they would pronounce it. The most common and famous question being asked as aforementioned is Are you going to settle there? And it irritates me. They say, ‘tumko to kabhi bihar aur India se lagaav shuru se nai raha hai.’ Now, since even I have to fake that I respect them, I keep quite. I can answer it now. Yes, I don’t have much attachment with Bihar, any would be a wrong word. Because, first of all I hate the stereotyped Biharis. I hate them from the core of my heart. Having said that, my father, my brother doesn’t fall into that category and thankfully I have not grown under that upbringing. I don’t know why, but I don’t xonnext with that kind of a mentality somehow. It is difficult for me. I may be writing shit right now. Whatever. These Biharis have a fixed and a very narrow mindset and I hate them for that. I hate them for not being able to speak English that fluently (Yes. It is a MAJOR factor, inspired by Agastya Sen or whatevr you may wish to think), they are still like 150 years behind, speaking and following a goddamn rudimentary set of beliefs, still besotted with IIT, Medixal, Brahmin-Brahmin marriages, My-Son-gets-more-salary than yours mentality and I hate it. I am urban, I don’t bitxh about anyone in the family (at least people who I love really),I am English and I want to hang around with people who harbor the similar mentality. Now, this doesn’t mean that I don’t like anyone in the family. Infaxt, it is incorrect, I simply adore some of the people of my family. I love them. I respect them. That is what respect is all about. It should come from within. Respect is not about grabbing any elder’s feet and ‘Pranam’ing thme. That is pure bullshit. Real respect and love comes from inside. There is a certain kind of connection with certain people. And with certain people there si not, no matter how good/bad they are or appear to be.

Coming again to answer those kinds of people, whatever attachment I have from my country is difficult for them to understand. Not, difficult. Impossible. So just leave it at that. Sometimes, this politics and bitxhing of people make you really sick and sometimes I want to run away from it. That is why; I think people who are settled abroad are the luckiest. Because, they are oblivious from the muddy slingshots of the so called ‘Happy Family’ whine. And I have always felt that life is so smooth away from the eyes of those ‘prying cynics’ who are reverently referred to as ‘Relatives’.

Love Story 2050 - Dud chala dude banne?

2008-07-04T14:03:00.000-07:00

Originally Written for: Passionforcinema.com. The article has been originally published here.

Once upon a time there was a boy. He used to watch a lot of Hrithik Roshan movies. And he had a dad who was a director. And the boy wanted to be an actor. And he wanted to be Hrithik. So, one night when he was watching Koi Mil Gaya for the 537th time, he thought he had enough of it. He went up to his dad and said ,” Papa Papa, Mujhe hero banna hai.” It was very late in the night and his dad was feeling very sleepy watching I, Robot. He was too jaded to reply. But his son repeated, “Papa Papa, Mujhe hero banna hai!” Papa dear was really sleepy but even then he asked ,” Accha Beta! Kya kya chahiye tumhein movie me?” Son dearest replied ,”Papa Papa, movie main na main car chalana chahta hun, bike chalana chahta hun, bhaagna chahta hun aur dance karna chahta hun,” and then he added something which was going to change the fate of Bollywood. For ever. “Sab Hrithik Roshan ki tarah.” Papa replied ,”Theek hai beta! Main script likhta hun. Kal breakfast pe baat karte hain.”

And from here began one of the greatest movie of all times - Love Story 2050. Harry Baweja must have written this film in his sleep, otherwise there is no way else can one even think of directing( and also producing. Admire his guts man! Take a bow Mr. Baweja.) a waste of 55 crores. A movie which has nothing to give rather than the cliched dialogues, bored to death romantic scenes, cliched expressions. The only good thing as people have been talking about is the special effects. That is true. Although the setting of 2050 Mumbai is a bit too futuristic for comfort. But still, that is one think you’ve to laud the movie makers for. Otherwise, there is nothing in this movie that stands out. The songs are outright bad, except ‘Milo na Milo’ which has been picturised equally well. It is the only 5 minutes where Harman is tolerable. Otherwise, he is a bad copy of Hrithik Roshan. I mean, he walks like him, talks like him, stands like him, sits like him, stares like him, has got his sideburns like him. There is only one difference though, if you cared to notice. He cannot act like Hrithik. Not in 2008 at least. May be in next 42 years, who knows? Or is that the hidden meaning behind the title? I mean the guy has tried aping Hrithik Roshan to such abominable levels that one might even start wondering; does he even try to shit like Hrithik?( Who knows he might have planted a hidden web cam in his bathroom just to learn some tricks of this trade too from his ‘mentor’?). Harman is wooden. That’s all I have to say.
And Priyanka Chopra? She might have been terribly-IN-love or hopelessly-OUT-of mind to accept such a movie and walk through a dead role with a dead pan expression. Not one single scene stands out, there is no magic on screen. The movie suffers from a huge hangover of Koi Mil Gaya/Krissh and Hrithik, so much so that you wish Rakesh roshan would sneak in some of the scene here and there. Everyone else is ineffective including the very own Boman Irani (as the scientist who I don’t know why is in an Einstein like get up). Archana Puran Singh plays the archaic ‘Yash Raj produced affable Punjabi mother’. There is absolutely no flow in the movie, one scene jumps off to another as if monkey hopping from one tree to another. The typical hero-heroine meeting up again is so irritating and straight out of some 1980’s bored to death formulaic movie. Hero wants to search his ‘love’ in the big town. He searches her for 17 seconds and the moment later ‘Lo and Behold’ she is right up there wetting herself to glory waiting for her ‘love’.

I can highlight only this much on the movie because I left the theatre after 2 hours 15 minutes. The movie threatened to be 3 hours 20 minutes long. I wonder what they would have shown in the next 1 hour 5 minute? Or, may be I know. The movie was as cliched as that. So Mr. Harry Baweja, you are no Rakesh Roshan and you are son is no Hrithik Roshan either. Had you donated this 55 crores of yours to the benefit of mankind, your name would have been right up there with Mother Teresa. So, the next time you decide to go behind the camera, think about how mankind could be benefited. Best of Luck!

And yeah, coming to luck, Harman keeps saying this line in the movie, ‘ I don’t need luck , I have love.’ Well Harman! you neither need love, you neither need love, you need an audience for your movie to tick which looks like a remote possibility. I suggest you rewatch Koi Mil Gaya for the 538th time and improve on your acting.

India V Pakistan - Asia Cup

2008-07-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

The first half of the match was replete with twists and turns as you would expect in a typical India Pakistan encounter. Though India would be content with 308, deep down they would admit that they would have got a bit more. Although we've seen India chase down 300 with careless ease, it could not all be very easy for Pakistan because India's bowling attack is strong as compared to the Pakistan's. Pakistan would require some stellar performance in the Powerplays which hasn't happened so far. They have seemed reluctant to go over the top in the initial overs and have adopted the conventional method of 'building up the innings'. But, when you intend to chase more than 300 on a flat track you need to be a bit more than inventive.

India on the other hand won the toss and came out all guns blazing thanks to Sehwag and Gambhir. When Pakistanis bowled short, Sehwag pulled, when they were up, Sehwag drove, when they were touch short, Sehwag cut. Sohail Tanvir, the now 'spearhead' of the Pakistani attack was made to look like a 7th grader as he helplessly conceeded 43 off his first 4 overs. India raced off to 86 in the first ten overs, with Sehwag escaping a sure shot LBW shout. Two balls later, Ifthikar Rao picked Gambhir as he tried to clear the infield but got hold by Afridi instead. Then, Indians lost the Raina, Sehwag in the space of 9 balls and were reduced to 91/3. Yuvraj hit some lusty blows but even he failed to capitalise and fell when he just looked set for a big one. In came Rohit Sharma, who has not been in particularly good form during the series and one could sense some nerves early on. But, then he eased in the company of Dhoni and singles started flowing. Now, Misbah(the stand in captain for Shoaib Mailk) operated both the spinners in tandem. Afridi with the debutant Ajmal. He was very impressive with his doosras which Dhoni failed to pick up repeatedly. The pressure was clearly on Indians as they needed a substantial partnership otherwise they would have been bundled shortly. They started pushing the ball around and this is where the pakistanis erred. They let the Indians take the singles and there was on pressure being applied on them. Misbah should have brought the fielders and should have made the Indians work for runs. However, he was content with 4-5 singles being taken in an over. What he did not know that the two players were laying a solid foundation for a big total. Dhoni and Rohit must be applauded for sewing a partnership which brought back India back in game. They demonstrated an icy cool head and never panicked during their course of innings. India was sitting pretty at 231/4 at the end of 40 overs. From here on, India was expected to cross the 320 mark, but soon thereafter, Rohit and Y.Pathan fell much against the run of play and a mini-rebuilding had to be done. But, Pathan hit some clean shots to help the team post 308 on the board. However, one might never know what is enough on this dead track but given the attack India has Pakistan would have to play really well.

Now, from Pakistan's point of view it is imperative that dominate from the word go. And no one can do it better than Shahid Afridi. I think he should open the batting today and play a blitzkrieg of sorts. His attack up-front can really destabilise the Indian attack and he has done that in the past. Because, if Pakistani team has to entertain any thoughts of going near the Indian team, they should attack right from the word go. And for that Afridi has to open. Their middle order is really experienced and are real thoroughbreds when it comes to chasing. They know they need to put 309 on board if they have to stay alive in the compeition. They will go for the kill. While, India will like to win this one and seal a place in the final. They have posted a good score, but, the job is still half done. It is for sure going to be an intriguing battle. Fasten your seat belts.

Will the Pakistani team do a Phoenix?

2008-07-01T23:53:00.000-07:00

There has not been much excitement in this ASIA CUP primarily because the IPL hangover refuses to die and also because India and Pakistan have played substantial number of matches so now an India and Pakistan game has become a 'one more' India Pakistan game, quite contrary to the hype that used to surround the games when these two teams used to play against each other once in a blue moon in the 90's. Team India has done fairly well against Pakistan in the last two years winning 10 matches out of 15.

Pakistan team has really looked out of sorts and with Umar Gul sidelined with an injury, the bowling attack is mediocre. The pakistan bowling doesn't look the same without the likes of Asif and Akhtar. Sohail Tanvir is maturing fast into a good international bowler, but nothing else even presents a trace of good news for the team. Their coach, Geoff Lawson, needs to take lesson on how to talk to people before ever thinking of coaching any team again. The way he tackled the Pakistani media after the loss to Srilanka was very rude, and not at all civil, and it clearly showed that the frustration of his incompetence of producing any good result with the Pakistani team spilled on to the media persons and they rightly boycotted the press conference. Shoaib Malik, I believe, for reasons more than one is not suitable for the post of captaincy. The assertiveness clearly likes in his captaincy as pointed out by the great Imran Khan. He is not backing himself enough, he needs to know that he is the captain of the team and the team will play and look like the way he wants to. Once you are the captain, you should forget who is the junior or who is the senior. He should take a cue or two from M.S.Dhoni's book in handling a team. Though I believe even if the Pakistanis are out of the tournament and if at all they want to change the captain(which they will, most probably), then, I don't think Misbah would be a great choice either for the same reason that he is pretty young in the international arena and giving the captaincy to him so early would not do him much good. I think an experienced campaigner like Younis Khan would make a good captain. Anyways, time would tell. Meanwhile, their ace allrounder Shahid Afridi hasn't fired at all. His golden duck against Sri Lanka in the previous game mirrored his batting performances in the past few months. It is imperative that he do something drastically miraculous in the remaining two games otherwise his time may well be up.

Pakistan's batting has looked good with Misbah, Younis Khan, Md. Yousuf and the skipper himself carrying some good form with the bat. However, it is their bowling which would be giving them. Their depleted attack against India's 'ready to rip off' any bowling attack in the world would be an interesting thing in today's match. Indian batting lineup looks a dream 20-20 batting squad and that is the way they have been playing of late. Gunning down 300 in 42 overs takes some doing. Also, with Adam Gilchrist out of the international arena, the opening combination of Gambhir and Sehwag looks easily the best in the world. Suresh Raina has been a revelation of sorts and one hopes that even if he bats with half the intensity he has been doing in Asia Cup, India may well have got a gem. But, its too early to comment, he started off with the same promise but faded somewhere in between, now the hope has been rekindled. Let's wait and watch.

If Pakistan lose this match, the whole configuration of their team may change. The Coach's term may be as well be over, the captain can be sacked, Afridi will have to make way for someone else. These are the major changes that one may expect given how fickle the decisions of PCB are. But, all these equations can be inverted if they pull off a victory against their arch rivals, and a good thumping against Bangladesh and with a stroke of luck, who knows they might be playing their final against Sri Lanka. Though, that is a bit far fetched. As of now, the Pakistan team is lying dead in dumps, nut you can never count them out. 1992 World Cup is just one of the tale of the Great Pakistani fightbacks. They are the most dangerous when they are almost dead. As a cricket fan, I want them to rise like Phoenix. Yet again.

No Smoking

2008-06-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

Oh My God!

This is all what I can manage when I now get what 'No Smoking' was really about. The movie is as close to about 'quitting smoking' as Laloo Prasad Yadav is a fashion photographer( Okay. Bad simile this, I concede. I just wanted to get my point across). All I want to/should say is this, Anurag Kashyap is a fucking genius. Period. I should have known it before watching 'No Smoking' and hence, should have watched it with a bit of respect. I almost slept through the movie and now, I regret it. And how.

This is one movie which makes you think. We Indians, have the habit of being spoon fed right from the academics to even movies, as I realized lately. There is almost a fixed pattern in our movies, there are very few directors who push the envelope and even if they do. they are panned by the 'Critics' and the mass alike. Although, there has been a surge a of directors who have gone beyond the stereotyped Circular motion around the trees and have given us some quality movies. Anurag Kashyap is one of the clan. Deriving inspiration from the David Lynch, Stanley Kubrik, Martin Scoresese School of film making, he gives us a philosophical treat. Yes, this movie has tones philosophy, the cigarette shown in the movie is a metaphor to John's soul. It is about one man against the whole society. Whether he will confirm or will he stand his ground? And then the 'Baba ki prayogshala' is about this structured moralist world which is so far removed from reality that makes one living in it possible (Although, I don't agree much with this version of the director) and hence, the constant references to the obscure Cigarette Shashtra and even the weird fees, which is some 21 Lakh 1 1 Thousand and one. Yes, this is very much your one man against the whole society whine. Very Fountainhead like. Although the idea itself is much talked and written about. What stands out for No Smoking is the execution. The manner in which the Director has drawn parallels from the real world leaves you awe struck.

The movies does take inspiration from the Franz Kafka's The Trial(the protagonist Joseph K. is taken to Jail without any fault of his) and David Lynch’s Quitters Inc. But, that takes nothing away from the Director who gives us a movie which delights you, teases you, makes you think.

I've not seen the movie second time around so I can't elaborate that much on the movie plot but what happens is this, K, the protagonist of the story is a Chain Smoker, smoking almost 5-6 packets of Cigarettes without any worry, admiring himself in the mirror and says, 'No one tells me what to do.' Cigarette to him is an integral part of his living, his identity card, his soul in this directionless 'idol seeking' world. Yes, Cigarette being used as a metaphor for soul to many would sound rather weird. But, why not? It is up to the Individual to decide where his soul lies. We didn't decide for Howard Roark that his soul lies in Architecture. It was he himself. Similarly, we can't decide for anyone else. No matter how bad or how good, a soul is a soul. Sorry for digressing, so, K doesn't want to part away with Cigarette at any cost and then starts the constant nagging of his wife, the 'advice' of his peers. Symbolically, it can be interpreted as: Here is one man who is doing something and he loves it. It may be unconventional for the conventional society and thus, they try molding him, try converting him, try breaking him.

will post more later..tired.. :)

B for Bihari...

2008-06-22T08:32:00.000-07:00

My small tribute to the greatest language ever. Bihari.

I’ve always wasted my time convincing people that there is no language as ‘Bihari’. Although the people of the state can be termed as Biharis, there is no language of the same name. Majority of the language spoken in the state can be loosely categorized as: Maithili, Bhojpuri, English, Hindi, Bihari English, and Bihari Hindi. Now, every state presents a distorted version of Hindi and English which is so comical that it is insightful in ways. So wide is the spectrum, that an entire language can be spawned by the colloquial usage. So in that way, Bihari(the language here) also consists of some of the most interesting and strange words that one will possible encounter.

Bahooot : This is actually a contorted version of ‘bahut’. Bahut in Hindi means plenty and is pronounced conventionally bereft of any enthusiasm between the alphabets h and t. But, Biharis extend hut to hoot to give a completely new word.

Usage: Indian Team ajkal bahooot accha khel rahi hai.
Indian Team is playing very well these days.

Thethar: It means a stubborn person. Someone who is oblivious to all the advices coming around.

Usage: Hum apne beta se tang aa chuke hain. Ek number ka thethar, baat hi nai sunta.
I’ve given up all my hopes on my son. He is very obstinate, doesn’t listen to me at all.

Hehar: It conveys the same meaning as ‘Thethar’ and thus, is a duplicate of ‘thethar’. The only difference being ‘Hehar’ is used sparsely as compared to ‘Thethar’.

Bhutlana: It means to get lost or to lose your way.

Usage: Aap humko unke ghar ka address de dijiye nai to hum naye shehar me bhutla jayenge.
Please give me his address or else I will be lost in the new town.

Konchi: It means ‘what’. It is generally used in the sense of enquiring, sometimes used with a slice of frustration.

Usage: Konchi bol rahe ho? Humko kuch bhi samajh me nai aaa raha hai.
What are you trying to say? I’m not getting anything.

Palthi Maar ke baithna: it means sitting by crossing your legs, the Punjabi counterpart of it is ‘Chaukdi maar ke baithna’.

Budbak: A stupid person is labeled as a ‘Budbak’. It is generally used with a sense of levity and is used for someone who commits silly mistakes or shows immaturity.

Usage: Arre Budbak, baat samajh me nai aata hai kya.
Stupid! Don’t you understand a thing as simple as this?

Fascination with‘s’ and ignoring the ‘sh’: Generally, the hardcore biharis are detected by this full-proof (or fool proof?) test. Though, not all biharis swap the ‘sh’ with s but most of them do it. Here the‘s’ and ‘sh’ are the Hindi’s ‘dant sa’ and ‘talabya sh’ respectively. Mostly, it is the ‘sh’ which is exchanged by‘s’ and is never the other way around.
Therefore, ‘Ashok’ is pronounced as ‘Asok’ ; ‘Shyam’ as ‘Syam’, ‘Station’ as ‘Sta-sun’. etc. Biharis also have a great grievance with the word ‘v’ so much that they have sworn never to use it and replace it with their much loved alphabet ‘b’ or ‘bh’. Thus, Vinod will become ‘Binod’ , ‘Van’ will become ‘Bhan’, ‘Available’ becomes ‘Abhay-label’ or in the most trying circumstances ‘Abhay-labool’.

Chooche: It is not the same word which you think it is. This word is very much a vegetarian word amongst the Biharis and is generally used when one is eating a particular thing without adding anything else. For, example if you are eating rice only or only having ‘rotis’, the chances are pretty ripe that a Bihari would advise:
Arre Chaval chucche kyun kha rahe ho, Dal le lo.
Why are you eating only rice, take some Dal also.

Garda: it is an adjective used when praising something/ someone. It is used both for living and non-living things. Or, sometimes it is used entirely in itself without any sentence to portray a complete emotion.

Usage I: Kya Garda shot maara hai.<>.
What a terrific shot he has hit.

Usage II: A – “ Tumko pata hai, humko Maths me 100 aaya.”
B – “ Garda!”

A- “You know I got 100 hundred in Maths.”
B- “Fabulous!”

Dhoot teri ki: it is used in moments of acute frustration when an act produces a result different from desired or when one anticipates his undoing by a certain action.

Usage: Dhoot teri ki, kitna aasan question choot gaya.
Shit! What an easy question I missed.

I know there are plenty of words that skips my mind right now. All the hardcore Biharis are invited to extend the collection.

India V Australia-Perth,Session III

2008-01-18T18:25:00.000-08:00

After all the controversy and the series being run into bad blood, it was imperative that the good cricket erase out those memories.It has been achieved to a certain extent.Now,the action is happening on the filed not off it.Players are doing their bat and ball do the talking not their mouths.The 3rd day saw yet another good contest between bat and ball where a total of 307 runs were scored at expense of 11 wickets.Indians expected their tail to wag in the post tea session.And some wag was that! Laxman and RP Singh added 51 invaluable runs to the total which took the lead to 413, R.P. Singh being the more dominant partner scoring 30.It was also heartening to see a player like Laxman think 'out of the box'; he was guarding R.P.Singh against Lee and was quite happy to give the strike to R.P.Singh when it came to Clark and Tait. Tait, in particular has looked out of sorts in this test and Australian media should know there is a thin line between praising and lying.R.P.Singh, coupled with some streaky and some confident shots raced to 30.Although, running between the wicket was appallingly pathetic, it was also Laxman's reluctance to take a single even on the 5th ball that was hard to fathom.He even refused a two on the last ball of the over which could have him on strike.But, he and R.P.Singh added some very important runs to the total which may make these mistakes look insignificant.It was also good to see Laxman trying some shots which he doesn't normally tries.If, the technique needs to take a backseat for team's benefit, the player should do it and Laxman did just that.He fell in the same fashion, backing out to Lee edging one to glichrist as India set Australia 413 to win.
Australia came out to bat and one could sense an air of reluctance in the Indian camp.Initially,R.P.Singh sprayed the ball all over.It was understandable as he had just spent a good 2hours batting in the middle.But,as usual Irfan Pathan was right on the money and he took out the nervous debutant's wicjet and Australia were 21 for 1. Irfan Pathan was bowling really well forcing the batsmen toplay almost each and every bowl.He got one to bounce one unevenly, which took Jacques's outside edge and the ball went to Jaffer at 3rd slip.Australia were looking down the barrel with 43 for 2.Ricky Ponting and Mike Hussey added 22 more to end the day at 65/2.Ricky Ponting is atill undefeated at 24 and he could hold the key to Australia's fortunes and India would rely on the services of Anil Kumble.The pitch is a bit up and down,which would particularly delight the Indian skipper.As of now, India needs 8 wickets and Australia 348 runs.History would be written either way, what remains to be seen is which side is more keen.

India V Australia-3rd Day,Session-II

2008-01-17T23:14:00.000-08:00

Symond's two wickets at the end has really helped Australia's cause. After Pathan's quick departure after lunch, India were struggling at 160/6.But, a solid parnership between MS Dhoni and VVS Laxman steadied the ship. Dhoni in particular looked impressive with a steady 38.He is fast improving on this tour.Although he fell against the run of play trying to sweep Symonds when the ball took the top edge, hit his shoulder to bounce abnormally high and Gilchrist dived to take a brilliant catch.Kumble departed 4 balls later to give Australia plenty to smile about before the play closed for tea.India is 363 runs ahead with two wickets in hand and until and unless Australians bowl really badly or there is a steely resolve from Laxman and Co., Australia can anticipate a total under 400 and although this kind of total is considered to be mammoth while chasing, it should be taken into consideration that any total within 400, it would be plain foolishness to put Australia out of the game. Under Steve Waugh they succesfully chased 369 against Pakistan for loss of 6 wickets.Moreover, the way in which Australians bat any 2 solid partnerships can really rip the oppostion apart.The way in which the duo of Symonds and Glichrist batted after being reduced to 5 down for 61 goes to show the way they approach the game.Although, their this fearlessness brought about their downfall in the 1st innings.HAving said that, it would be interesting to see how Laxman bats from here on now.It was clearly evident that Ponting had put all its man back and they are quite willing to give Laxman a single.Laxman looked reluctant for a single bt later gave in.Also,Laxman is not a kind of a swashbuckling player who would improvise and play a cameo of sorts.Rather,he is more from the Steve Waugh school of battling with tailenders who believes in giving the confidence and strike to tailender.Whether that would be wise or not, remains to be seen.

India V Australia-Perth,3rd Day,Session I

2008-01-17T20:58:00.000-08:00

Realistically, the match is even steven right now. With 158/5, India have a lead of 273 and ideally India would like to add atleast 77 to their total.Having said that, Australia have shown great resolve to come back from the position they were yesterday.Only a champion team could have done that. Now,it is imperative that the likes of MS Dhoni come to the party today. MS Dhoni looks that he is kind of getting back in shape after smallish but technically correct knocks of 35 and 19.Anything less than 350 at their disposal,Australia would be licking their lips in anticipation.The post lunch promises another exciting few hours of cricket, with India trying to extend their lead and Australia would try to peg them back with excellent fielding and fantabulous bowling, not to mention the mind dettering mind games.They would also be relying heavily on Clark and Lee to deliver the goods.If, India can see them off, India can give themselves some chance in this match.Also, India should continue playing aggresively(playing the ball on its merit) because at the end of the day it is the runs amassed which counts .This match has been great so far with the fortunes swinging like pendulum and the post lunch session would be no exception.

Intro and Bullshit

2008-01-17T08:01:00.000-08:00

Hi. I'm Tanul. I love writing, besides I'm passionate about cricket, books and movies. So, this blog is a combination of the aforementioned things. That's it, I guess. Let the blog do some of the talking.