Movie watching

It has been raining films after a long, dry spell. First the Oscar nominees made it to the halls nearby. Now a couple of Hindi movies have provided much needed succour from the horrendous lull in Bollywood.

The first one, Paan Singh Tomar tells us the story of a National Games winner who goes on to become a dacoit. It is a rather simple one-line story. Here, meet Paan Singh Tomar, national athlete. And lo behold! Here meet Paan Singh Tomar, dacoit. The why and how of the situation is told in the movie in an unhurried manner. I quite liked the movie, but was not totally moved by it. It just goes to show how used one is to watching stuff about the badass Hindi heartland. This was till two incidents in the newspapers shook me up a bit. One was the murder of an IPS officer in the Morena region that took place when he tried to stop the mining mafia. Paan Singh Tomar is infact based partly in Morena and you suddenly realise that cold blooded murders are very very real even in this day and age. The second was the story of a BSP village pradhan’s husband being killed, allegedly by a SP MLA. The story of how he was surrounded by goons, was hidden by his second wife and was eventually dragged out and hacked and shot, got me to gulp. There is a lawless world out there somewhere and suddenly you can understand why Paan Singh Tomar did what he did.

The second movie, Kahaani, is a laudable attempt at suspense by Bollywood. Set in Kolkata, the movie traces the travails of protagonist Vidya Bagchi (played wonderfully well by Vidya Balan) as she tries to track down her missing husband. Suspense stories usually work well when you suspend your disbelief and do not question the premise of the events when they unfold. A trick that Hollywood is excellent at pulling off through it high budget, sleek visuals. Kahaani gets the viewer from thinking too much by loading each scene with heavy visuals of Kolkata. Every scene is filled with details and before you can actually grasp them, process the scene that is going on and move on to question the logic of it, you have moved to the next scene and need to start the process all over again. When you come out of the theatre, your mind begins working the questions. During the movie itself, you sit back and enjoy the ride.

Both movies are worth a watch.

Shor in the City

Shor in the City is a movie that evokes mixed feelings. It has so much going for it and it has some truly brilliant moments. Yet, the movie does not sit together in a way that makes your heart strings tug for any particular character.

The premise is interesting enough. It captures the lives of a cross section of Mumbaikars in the midst of that truly Mumbai festival – Ganpati.

We are introduced to three small time ‘publishers’ who print illegal copies of popular bestsellers. Apart from dabbling in publishing, the three also hang out together and indulge in activities that sometimes border on the dangerous. They do it in the good natured manner of people who are not really sure about the serious consequences their actions can have. Heading up this gang is Tilak (Tushar Kapoor in a cool haircut but looking as stiff as ever), newly married and fast domesticating.

Sendhil Ramamurthy plays Abhay, an NRI returning home to set up a small business. As he finds his way around Mumbai, he acquires a hot model girlfriend and at the same time learns about ‘protection’ provided by small time gangsters to carry on a business.

Savvy (Sundeep Kishen) is an aspiring cricketer, worried about being selected to the Under-22 Mumbai cricket team. The selection is also crucial for his girlfriend to reveal his presence in her life to her parents and forestall objections from them about his marriage-worthiness.

Various other small characters weave in and out of the story till all of them find closure of some sort on the final Visarjan day.

The movie has a lot of captivating scenes. Some of them push you into over-the-edge tension territory. Others have you laughing out aloud. In some, you are stuck by how well Mumbai’s character is captured, almost as if you are walking on the city’s streets and observing something yourself.

The problem is that though a lot of the scenes by themselves stand out; the whole movie is not strung well together. The pace picks up and falters. The stories are intertwined but the speed with which each twine cuts into the other, leaves you little time to develop empathy for any particular character. You really want to feel for the characters but are just not given enough material to.

So in the end, the one character that does stand out and is shown in many of its shades is the city itself. Possibly the genesis of the movie’s story explains why. The end credits inform you that all the incidents in the movie were inspired by newspaper stories. A regular reader of Mumbai Mirror or any local Mumbai newspaper can believe some of the incredulous episodes in the movie.

Worth a watch if you have lived in this city long enough to appreciate its quirkiness or if you are an outsider wanting to get a feel of some parts of the city.

Sing a song

Being a child of the 90s, I have had no great illusions about the quality of songs back then. Infact I will be the first to admit that the only reason they are still played today is because people from my generation are currently high spenders and if a little nostalgia is required to humour us, so be it. Hence, the cheesy ‘Saath Samundar Paar Kiye’ at all discs without fail every time there is a Bollywood night.

However, as anyone from then knows, Saath Samundar Paar Kiye was not the worst of them.

In the last couple of weeks, I have discovered more gems.

Has anyone seen/heard the title song from ‘Chandni’?

It has a middle-aged, pot bellied Rishi Kapoor wearing the signature loose sweater he began to wear in his downturn years. It has an approaching-middle age Sridevi doing the cute-as-a-button act. However it is not because of either that the song is unbearable. That credit goes to Sridevi’s singing which somehow never manages to cross over from tuneless to melodious. I am not sure who had the inspiration to get her to sing but singer she ain’t. A ‘trying really hard to be girlish’ voice tries desperately to grapple with the pitch. In the end, the pitch runs miles ahead, leaving the female voice just plain screechy. Viewers who sit down to watch such songs without a remote control on hand can only be pitied. Like me.

The next song is from my favourite nominee for the ‘most nasal voice’ award. Kumar Sanu spawned an entire generation of singers, reaching a zenith with Himesh Reshmiyya, who figured that if he could, so could they.

However, having digested Kumar Sanu’s voice a long time ago, I could focus on the visual of the ‘Nazar ke Samne’ song. Anu Agarwal looks very tense and stressed as a supportive Rahul Roy leads her to the exam hall. One would have assumed that she was going to write her GRE or IAS exams. Turns out not. Anu Agarwal is appearing for a typewriting exam. Not to demean typists but honestly woman, a typewriting exam? Surely that can be done without much eyelid-batting and whimpering.

Finally, the ‘gazab ka yeh din’ song from QSQT. Juhi and Aamir both looking deliciously young, wander through a forest with a couple of lightly loaded rucksacks. The song itself has always been a favourite and years later, it still retains its melody and freshness. It is the run up to the song that had me gasping in astonishment. Juhi turns out to be a spirited girl, who goes out of her way to keep chasing and flirting with a shy Aamir Khan (gasp. Where is the modesty for a 90s girl!). Then she manages to lose herself in the forest, get chased by a bunch of baddies looking to rape her, runs through the jungle replete with wild animals and just when you think she is going to come to a sticky end, manages to meet Aamir Khan. One would have been traumatized to say the least after the fairly biblical tragedies. But nay sir. She is up and about the next day singing the famous song and darting coy looks at Aamir.

It may not be the most real version of life as we know it. Still, it is a lovely contrast to the whimpering Anu Agarwal and cutesy Sridevi

The Girl's Speech

Last weekend I watched The King’s Speech, a movie which would have been truly enjoyable had I actually watched it. A sizeable portion was unfortunately lost in the added chatter that was religiously provided by the mother-daughter duo sitting next to me.

The daughter must have been about seven or eight years old. As soon as the movie title appeared on screen, she began her questions.

Mama, what movie is this?
Mama, who is this?
Mama, why is the king stammering?
Mama, why is the lady upset?

In the first five minutes, I fully expected Mama to tell the daughter that they would discuss the movie once they left the movie hall since it was not polite to talk during a movie.

Expectation turned to hope and then desperation. Mama was actually providing detailed answers to each of these questions.

By the time Colin Firth’s speech therapy began, I was seriously in need of some therapy too, with a headache from trying to tune out the conversation that was happening by my side.

The daughter was clearly quite precocious given how well she followed the movie. She was also not shy to ask questions on points she did not understand. In any other context, I would have probably praised the mom for taking the effort to explain everything patiently and which had clearly helped her daughter be more involved, observant and curious about everything.

But Gaahhh!!

Isn’t being considerate to the general public no longer part of a good upbringing?

Dumb and dumber

Progessing (albeit rather slowly) through D’s Alfred Hitchcock collection, I began to get perspective on how female characters are treated in Hitchcock’s movies. The last two I saw were ‘Birds’ and ‘The problem with Harry’. In both cases the women are not simpering fools who sit by the sidelines waiting to be rescued. Infact, they act like how normal human beings, who are a bit enterprising and sometimes clever, would act. In one, the heroine chases the male lead to a small town and acts rather brave when things begin to happen. In the other, both the female leads keep their heads in a sticky situation and take an active role in shaping their love lives.

Compare this to the last Tamil movie I saw and I feel like hanging my head in shame. ‘Robot’ was a movie that was wrong at various levels but one of the points that irked me was the absolute stupidity of the heroine. The narrative starts off by establishing that she is a doctor. You delude yourself into believing that atleast this time, unlike in Shankar’s last movie ‘Sivaji the Boss’, the heroine may display more I.Q. than a piece of wood. Alas! That is not to be. Within ten minutes, she goes on to prove that she is a brainless twit and has no spunk whatsoever. The rest of the movie continues along those lines.

I am not sure if it is just our directors who think women are stupid or if it is the audience which expects women to be stupid in the movies and hence directors are forced to write such roles? Why can’t we have a baseline intelligence level for women in our movies?

Or perhaps it is just an extension of the fact that our male characters are not particularly smart themselves. (Look at the scientist character in 'Robot'. He spends a goodish amount trying to teach a robot 'feelings' and then suggests the plan of the heroine seducing (!!) a robot).

Given the average Indian male loves his dream girl to be slightly dumber than him, this really does not leave much room for women to appear intelligent as well, does it?

P.S. This issue has been irking me for a while. I thought of gathering more examples of Hollywood vs Kollywood portrayal of women but figured out it would become an academic exercise meant for well-researched publications. Besides, I would have never gotten around to completing the post ever then.

Endhiran review (or why you should not watch it)

Warning: Lots of spoilers.

Average Hair Count on each theatergoer’s head at the beginning of Enthiran – 1000,000

Dr Vasigaran or Vasi (Rajini in another age-reversal get up) is a robot scientist who has spent ten years of his life building an android-humanoid (i.e. life like) robot. He is assisted by two imbecile lab assistants who are completely unmindful of the fact that they are privileged to be part of a team developing cutting edge stuff in robotics. Instead they act like two disgruntled code-writers in software companies doing time-pass at work and looking out for jobs.

Vasi’s lab is located in what looks suspiciously like California but emerges into Mount Road in Chennai. When the movie opens, the robot is kicking the two lab assistants (hmmm, hence the job dissatisfaction?). Apparently this is the humour element in the movie, since the two lab guys get beaten up in the movie quite frequently by the robot.

Hair count as one begins tearing hair in frustration – 999,000

Vasi’s robot ‘Chiti’ is created in the image of Vasi and is ready to be tested in a real life environment. Enter Sana (Aishwarya Rai looking quite shapely after ages), Vasi’s super pretty and super dumb doctor girlfriend. Sana takes Chiti home and in two minutes manages to get into trouble with the neighbourhood goons. Sana the HUMAN BEING stands helplessly while Chiti the ROBOT uses his initiative to create havoc. Encouraged, Sana gets into a standoff with some more goons and pleads to Chiti ‘Do something’. Er..don’t robots normally need precise instructions like ‘Take the bad guy’s weapon and kick his ass’? Besides, however did she get through her days before Chiti appeared, considering her penchant for getting into trouble?

From the strong Ramya Krishnan character in Padiappa and the Jothika character in Chandramukhi, women in Rajni movies have morphed into these wimpy eyelash-flashers who whimper helplessly most of the time. If Shriya in Sivaji was bad, watching Ash Rai being saved by a Robot in a proooollongged rape scene makes you want to cry.

Hair count – 700,000

Anyway, after Chiti is exposed to the world of women who exist only in the movies, Vasi reveals Chiti’s purpose. Chiti is to be given to the Indian army so that robots can fight in the place of real soldiers. So basically we find out that a robot, designed to kill human beings has been roaming the streets at will.

Hair count – 600,000

Enter Evil Scientist Bohra (Danny Denzagpo looking suave). Bohra's robots all look menacing just in case we have not already figured out he is the bad guy. Bohra has taken a hefty cash advance from an international Terrorist Placement Agency which has asked for several human looking robots. Bohra's robots are unfortunately not ready for this lucrative market. So he conspires to get hold of Chiti and sabotages Chiti’s attempts to be recruited by the army.

A frustrated Vasi, instead of going back to altering Chiti’s software, decides to teach Chiti ‘feelings’ in less than a month in order to be eligible for the army. The expected happens and Chiti falls in love with Sana (Aha, I always knew Ash Rai's plastic smile could only be a turn-on for robots *smug smile*). Vasi destroys Chiti out of rage and jealousy.

Hair Count – 400,000

Bohra recovers Chiti from the garbage dump – oh yeah, Vasi’s method of destroying Chiti is not deactivating him but hacking him into pieces – and loads Chiti with the ‘Bad taste’ red chip. This makes Chiti go after Sana despite her really bad wig. Chiti converts all the robots in Bohra’s lab into his lookalike, kills Bohra, kidnaps Sana and sets up a house with the intention of living happily ever after.

Hair Count – 200,000

After a couple of stupid attempts by Vasi to disarm Chiti and a stupider robot dream sequence where Sana tries to seduce Chiti (what can one say…), the climax begins.

Hair Count – 100,000. Gosh looks like we can all use Sana’s bad wig.

The climax turns out to be the paisa vasool part of the entire movie. It is a stunning spectacle of mankind’s mastery of graphics (we may suck at robotics but we surely rock when it comes to graphics!). The army of Chiti robots form various shapes and ward off attempts by the Indian army to capture them. At the end of twenty minutes, when Chiti is finally subdued one sits totally stunned by the spectacle.

The red chip is removed from Chiti and Ash’s wig has also become better and is no longer attractive to Chiti. Peace reigns. Chiti dismantles himself while giving a long sermon

Thud thud. Gosh the head hurts without hair to cushion its banging against the wall.

The movie could have been a lot less insulting to the viewer's intelligence if Shankar had handled the whole man vs machine conflict better. Rajni the scientist seems to conveniently keep forgetting that his robot is a machine and needs to be treated accordingly - not slapped around or scolded like some recalcitrant kid. Seriously, a Phd from Carnegie Mellon, a post doc from Stanford and you expect us to swallow this?

Rajini's superstar image is partly to be blamed. After all Chiti may be a robot, but he is still Rajini. And hence he becomes a superman instead of a supermachine. Perhaps if writer Sujata had been alive, the movie may have been dumbed down to suit the average viewer without losing its credibility entirely.

I would sincerely suggest the following to Shankar to ensure that the movie has a longer run at the box office.

Try some serious editing – say about two hours of the movie. Now stitch together the following scenes

- Vasi and Chiti in the car and Chiti with the policeman (that bit was funny)
- Couple of song sequences, especially the one in Peru
- The entire twenty minutes of the climax

I guarantee I would watch the movie again if these were the only things in it.

What say?

Matheran-Karla-Bhaja

Just when the monsoons have started retreating, I have discovered the pleasure of travel in this weather. Good Chennai kids don’t travel during the rains. You stay put at home, and complain about how it is pouring and amuse yourself with indoor games. Considering we get so little rain, rain needs to be treated with the respect due to it.

Not Mumbaikars.

Come rains, and everyone is out taking a walk under the clouds.

I learnt this early on, when I first moved to Mumbai. A friend’s colleague had organised a hike to Matheran. To my great surprise, we were not the only people out. Walking in the blinding rain and coping with slippery paths, were packs of brightly dressed people. We followed them. Though only upto a point. I am not sure at what stage we lost sight of them since I was busy concentrating on urging my foot to take the next step. We blundered on our own, and scrambled up the hillside, occasionally using nothing but tiny bits of grass as a grip to prevent us falling into wide abysses. When we eventually reached Matheran, I was relieved to just be alive.

Years later, one Himalayan trek under my belt, I had still not gone back to Matheran. But a couple of weekends ago, D decided to make plans. And we were on our way.

I discovered there are fairly conventional and pleasant ways to go to Matheran as well. One can take a private car or a train and shared taxi upto Dasturi Naka. From there you have the choice of taking a toy train (not operational in the monsoons), hiring a horse, taking hand driven carts or just walking up to the top.

We chose the last option and spent a lot of time lingering over the views. We had not realised till then that away from Mumbai the rains had still not had finished putting up a spectacular display. From the market to the Verandah in the Forest, where we were staying, it poured and poured. It continued to pour through the day and the next as well. Which was good fun, because I got to act like a good Chennai kid in the rains. We read books, watched the rain, played cards, ate huge amounts of food and griped occasionally about how it was pouring. When the rain let off a bit, we went for long walks and marvelled at the stunning views in the countryside, full of fresh looking vegetation punctuated by white waterfalls.

One trip had hooked me and Saturday, I was back traversing the area around Mumbai. This time the destination was Karla and Bhaja caves, a spot I had been eyeing for a while. Both of them are located close to Lonavala and a train to Pune gets one there in about 2.5 hours.

We got off at Lonavala and hired a car for the day (1000 rupees to show both spots and bring us back to the station). The driver was a teenager who told us later on that he had learnt driving a couple of months ago. We could have guessed the way he took the curves upto Karla. Perhaps the Ekvira temple at the top protects its tourists, since we got there alright.

Karla is more than 2000 years old and is built on the same lines as Ajanta- Ellora, though much smaller. There is one main cave, or the Chaitya and a lot of smaller caves which served as living rooms for visiting monks. The most interesting feature is the curved ceiling decorated with wooden beams, in an imitation of wooden architecture from that period.

As luck would have it, Karla and Bhaja also seemed to be a major picnic spot for school kids. Swamping us were about 1000 school kids, all intent on throwing coins on the Stupa to see if they could hit the top.

So much for calm Buddhist meditation.

We moved to Bhaja after an uninspired lunch at the nearby MTDC hotel. Bhaja was much calmer, largely because they were fewer kids. But also, because Karla has a living temple in its precincts, it tends to attract more people who linger longer.

Both places had lovely views. The weather was pleasant, with an occasional drizzle adding to the charm. It is the best time to visit both places, because I am fairly sure the uncovered stone steps leading upto the caves are likely to be very tiring to conquer in any other season.

Rounding off this weekend, I managed to watch Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. There have been millions of remakes of this movie, some of which I have watched. The shower scene has been endlessly analysed. What new stuff can this movie offer, was the major thought that was playing in my head before turning on the TV.

It was brilliant. The movie had a pace that set my pulse racing the way only books have done in the past. I can’t wait to watch the rest of the movies in the ten pack set lying in my house. And I would suggest anyone who can't resist good movies do the same.

It is always a pleasure to take in a good movie and a halfway decent play in one weekend.

Edge of heaven

Screened as a part of NDTV Lumiere’s Cannes Festival selection at PVR, the hall contained a handful of people. Luckily the quorum was sufficient for the movie to be screened (unlike the last time I went to Sterling with a friend and was told that Turtles Can Fly wont be screened since we were the only two people who had booked tickets)

The movie itself is a nicely wrapped slice of the lives of its six lead characters. The story switches between Turkey and Germany and traces the blip of passion, love, lust and beliefs that registers in each of these characters before the world settles back into rhythm.

The story telling tight, the crossing of paths of the characters, unknownest to themselves is nicely done and the symbolic beginnings and ends don’t feel too clichéd. The movie also encompasses in the periphery a larger vision of lives of Turks in both Turkey and Germany.

An interesting view of a different world.


Don’t Look Now

It is difficult to pull off spooky movies. It is even more so with spooky plays. But ‘Don’t Look Now’ manages fairly successfully with a well-written script, believable cast and wonderful settings. Aparna and Sanjay are a typical upper middle class urban couple who lose their daughter Nitya at the beginning of the play. Trying to find peace, they visit Shanti Niketan – a conscious effort to dwell on better times as the couple had met there. The duo bump into two sisters dressed in black and looking quite witch-like. One of the sisters is psychic and warns them to leave Shanti Niketan. Aparna is wont to believe them but Sanjay finds the whole set up ridiculously fraudulent and superstitious. Things begin to get weirder and weirder for Sanjay who battles between his veneer of logic and his instinct and gradually realizes that some forces are beyond normal reasoning.

The play handles the mystical elements well. The central point is the big banyan tree, imaginatively designed to give a great atmosphere. The lighting works beautifully, especially when Sanjay has nightmares. Add to that the excellent mannerisms of each individual character (except perhaps for the witch sisters who appear a bit one-dimensional) and the villagers entering and exiting the scene adding a naturalness seldom found in the sparsely populated plays one sees at NCPA. On the whole, the play is definitely worth a watch.

Quantum of So Less

Bond movie rating

a) 100 Rs ticket for last row at Sterling Cinema – worth it
b) 325 Rs ticket for 4th row from the front in Inox Multiplex - not worth it

Scatter brained plot (and we are only comparing with other Bond movies here), jerky action sequences and a random influx of characters who die before you notice their existence made this movie trip quite bland.

Methinks action movie directors are going through a lot of existential angst. ‘Do we focus on mere action sequences or do we bring in the emotional trauma of the protagonist?’ is the question that seems to be springing to the lips of the whole lot. Good movies at both ends of the spectrum work (Case in point - Die Hard and Dark Knight). But most of them fall somewhere in the middle, giving the viewer one solid headache and plenty of time to think about everything in their lives other the movie. An excellent example of this horrid failure is Wanted. It did give me a regular optometrist workout as I rolled my eyes continuously at bullets being shot in curved lines, the hero suddenly taking up the cause of a dad he had never met in his life and Angelina Jolie finally looking like an anorexic hockey mom instead of hot babe. As a friend put it, at the end of the movie you began to appreciate the gritty realism of Rajnikant movies.

The best game plan to not drown in Hollywood’s murky waters is to sit at home and watch TV. Yup, for anyone who has not yet woken up to the existence of World Movies and NDTV Lumiere, please turn on the idiot box. And enjoy.

Overdosing on Bollywood

One surprising consequence of moving to Mumbai has been the closer contact I seem to have developed with Bollywood. No, I don’t get invited to Page 3 parties. Infact, the only celebrities I have seen so far are so minor, I am embarrassed to flaunt the ‘sightings’. It’s just that I get this feeling that suddenly there is too much information on Bollywood and related stuff around me.

The main culprit behind this is the city’s leading newspaper Times of India. TOI takes its role as the chronicler of Bollywood stories very seriously. I get updated stories on what the Bachchan clan is upto almost every other day. On the occasion of the Junior Bachchan’s first wedding anniversary, the media went into raptures trying to capture the topics discussed on the teleconference that Bachchan family had. Apparently the Juniors were vacationing in Miami whereas the Senior Bachchans were in Mumbai. The technologically savvy family (Sr Bachchan even has a blog!) decided to hold a teleconference in an intimate gathering of just fifty newspersons so there could be a very intercontinental (and very public) transfer of love and affection. TOI, I am sure, must have been at the head table. It is bad enough that an entire family is daft enough to do this. But it is worse to see it covered in such loving detail.

Last month, I finally decided that just because I was not going to get The Hindu in the mornings, there was no reason to torture myself with TOI. I changed my paper to Hindustan Times in a bid to read about politics, the nation, inflation, U.S. elections, local Mumbai rains and so on and so forth. While the quality of news is better, I am still up-to-date on the whole ‘Is Ash pregnant’ debate (At last count, she wasn’t). You just can’t escape Bollywood in Bombay papers.

The cumulative effect of all this is that Bollywood has permeated into other aspects of life too. The conscientious CEOs, bankers, ad men and sundry denizens of the city get their morning dose of Bollywood and before you know it, authorize ad campaigns with Amitabh advertising chocolates and Shah Rukh advertising powder. When the companies can’t afford the A list actors, they make do with the C list ones. I watched with amusement as primetime TV and the local newspaper covered a split between Arbaaz Khan and Malaika Arora (a third rate actor and his wife, an actress popular for her item numbers). It turned out to be a ‘hoax’ and a ‘well-done’ advertisement for some beauty product. The next day, the newspaper carried indulgent write-ups by various columnists on how it was a great gag. Seriously, do these people believe that anyone outside of Mumbai know who Arbaaz and Malaika are? Or even care whether they are splitting up?

With the IPL wave riding high, there has only been more of it. The game shows all seem to be populated with them. The quizmasters and judges are actors. The participants are often actors too. The FM channels hold Bollywood quizzes. The bill boards throw their faces at you.

I like Hindi movies. Infact, I am capable of watching even the terrible ones from the 90s where Karishma Kapoor had caterpillar eyebrows or Akshay Kumar used to wear baggy pants. Yet with an increasing awareness of and exposure to Bollywood, the good old romance of watching near-strangers play make-believe characters in make-believe movies fades rapidly. I hate having to watch out for the on-screen chemistry of Saif Ali Khan and Kareena Kapoor or wonder if Preity Zinta’s role was edited in order to give Rani Mukherji greater screen space. Shah Rukh’s cute prattle has turned into an annoying background noise now that it is heard in large doses. If only all of them would disappear and just fill the screen for three solid hours where it would be easy for me to pretend they are the girl next-door or the maniac murderer or the doting father-of-two or the evil scheming mother-in-law. After all, that was the purpose for which they were originally given an identity.

Dasavatharam – The ten horrors or I want my money back

The problem with being Kamal Hassan is you eventually get consumed by your own ‘thinking man’ image. Kamal Hassan is undoubtedly a good actor. Some of his movies have you crying your heart out, like Mahanadhi. Or laughing your guts out like Michael Madana Kama Rajan. But then, he comes up with these grandiose plans to make an ‘intelligent’ movie and you are crushed by the collapsing reels of his ambition – Guna, Alavandan, Hey Ram. Dasavataram is as ambitious as he gets. And unfortunately, it falls as badly as it can get.

I can only think of one reason for this tendency of his to make such bloopers – a mega ego which probably tells him that he is up there in the list of the world’s intellectuals. Sure, he is intelligent. He has some very well thought-out views on a lot of topics. He probably reads much more than ninety percent of the Tamil film industry. Sadly, being a good actor or an intelligent person is not adequate criteria to write a good script or screenplay. Kamal fails to realise this. Like a third year, precocious, graduate student, eagerly grabbing his chance to voice his rapidly forming world views, Kamal throws idea upon idea at the audience, more to impress than to explore. One minute he hints at the dangers of biotechnology. Another minute he is urging us to live in harmony with the environment. The third he questions the existence of God. He talks about untouchables and about historical religious wars between Shaivaites and Vaishanvites. Also in the mire is a reference to Muslims being typecast as terrorists (Oh Boy! and he is the one to talk about typecasting. Watch out for a Japanese character called Yuka who is from Hiroshima, is a Kung fu goddess and has a brother who runs something like a Shaolin school)

It is not just the ideas that swing wildly. It is also the mood of the movie. The first fifteen minutes try to establish a serious tone. Then presumably, the director realises that the audience would probably find the whole thing too intense and the track switches to comedy. You grin uneasily when funny lines follow gruesome killings, wondering what to make of it. The movie can’t quite make up its mind till the end on whether it is supposed to be serious with funny thrown in or the other way around.

If Kamal the scriptwriter has bombed, what about Kamal the actor? After all, the movie is supposed to be a vehicle for his impressive range of emoting. This is probably where the plot could have been structured better. The ten roles that Kamal plays do not seem integral to the plot line. Some of them are totally irrelevant and seem to be there just to showcase Kamal the actor. Why did you need the Grandma or Avatar Singh (dancing with an aged Jayaprada, reminding you that it is not just the movies that are going to the dogs and you may as well take a moment to worry about politics)? The other roles could have been played by other actors. Kamal as George Bush looks as silly as Hrithik Roshan as the queen in Dhoom 2. Kamal as the villain, Christian Fletcher looks strangely out of proportion, with a large android head and a punier body. All that money spent on make-up would have been so much better spent on special effects. The scenes of the sea surging and cars and trees being tossed around look like the work of someone who has just completed the first level of Arena Multimedia’s courses.

The protagonist Govind is a role Kamal can sleepwalk through and he does exactly that. Balram Naidu, the RAW officer is the most impressive of them all, actually bringing a few chuckles. The dalit environmentalist also manages to convince us that it is not Kamal playing the role. Fundamentally though, a lack of clarity in the plot renders most of the characters superfluous and hence lessens your ability to admire the disguises or the voice modulations or even a surprising leap from the usual put-on accent Kamal uses when he speaks English. Govind is supposed to be a scientist, trying to prevent a deadly virus from falling into the wrong hands. Christian Fletcher is supposed to be working for the wrong hands. So, are the characters played by Kamal supposed to be aiding the destruction of the virus? Or are they proof of the fact that there is good and bad everywhere?

With even the characters played by Kamal floundering, there has been little focus on other roles. Leading to some downright annoying ones like that of Asin. Towards the end of the movie, you want to grab the bronze statue she holds for most part of the movie and hit her on the head to get her to shut up. Peripheral characters like Sethu, the greedy head of the biotech firm selling out to foreign hands are laughable. Why does the evil dealmaker run around for 15 minutes lugging a VIP-like suitcase straight from the 80s?

The bottomline is that Kamal, the scriptwriter has bitten off more than he can chew leading to Kamal, the actor getting a raw deal.

Movie time

And I joined the list of women who watch the movie, Sex and the City on the first day of its release. It was unplanned and unintentional and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Not the movie itself. It was the same as the series – full of awesome clothes, shoes, bags and a thin storyline in there somewhere. But the crowd!

SoBo dresses up for its weekend movies. And if it is a movie about dressing up, then it is the closest to a religious experience they are likely to have. Being responsible for the tickets, I was the first to reach the foyer and I had to wait for a good fifteen minutes while various friends parked their cars. I watched women of every age and size parade in lovely heels, big bags and fancy clothes. Thin, young ones in pretty dresses and ballet flats. Plumper ones in scarves and silver stilettos (think they were supposed to make the fat calves look thinner). Bags large enough to conceal another person. Clutches too small to conceal anything.

Also, most of the audience was women. So they unabashedly clapped when Sam’s sexy neighbour made his appearance, oohed and aahed as Carrie paraded the wedding gowns of the movie’s key on-screen advertisements, cooed when Charlotte’s baby appeared and sighed when Miranda broke up with Steve (Yeah, all spoilers, but get perspective on what movie it is).

It was a trip down sorority house and vanity land, bundled into one.

While we are at movies, may as well add the other movie I watched, which I thoroughly did enjoy for the movie. Be Kind Rewind, was released surreptitiously in a few theatres in the suburbs. There was no fanfare about it, lest people actually saw it. Being one of the people who looked it up on rotten tomatoes and who liked its silly storyline and the fact it was made by Michel Gondry, the director of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I decided to go for it and dragged a friend along.

Before the movie began, there was a short film called ‘Rewind’, shown as some sort of a platform for aspiring movie artistes. It was neat, well-told and held the thrill it was meant to.

That put the twenty-odd people in the theatre in a mood for a slightly off-beat movie. Be Kind Rewind was definitely that. The plotline revolves around a couple of guys (Jack Black, Mos Def) in a video rental store erasing all the tapes by mistake. They try to shoot their own versions of the movies to retain a faithful customer. From the time Jack Black conceives elaborate costumes for their plans to sabotage a power plant to the time they finish shooting the last of their ‘home’ videos, it is a laugh. If you are the type who can enjoy odd-ball humour, suspend logic and go with the flow, then this movie is definitely recommended. If it helps, seventeen of the twenty people in the theatre laughed out loud. I assume two were busy using the environs of the dark theatre. One is always the grouchy kind. Not a statistically valid sample size, but something!

Movie Review - Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian

Friday nights always demand some activity that is soft enough to not burn your brains after a long work week, yet does not involve slumping over the couch in your house watching whatever is on offer on TV. Which is how, having gone for Iron Man with a colleague and finding that show timings had changed, I ended up watching Chronicles of Narnia – Prince Caspian.

I have not read the series nor have I seen part 1. So cannot comment on whether the book is better than the movie nor give a context. But unlike a Lord of the Rings where the plot complications are such, it is difficult to make a brilliant movie no matter how good the special effects, I have been informed that this series is fairly simpler and lends itself to easier adaptation. At any rate, what emerged at the end was a good children’s fantasy that took me right back to the days of Enid Blyton and the like

The four children who originally found Narnia are ‘called’ back again after a year. Except that in the magical world of Narnia, many thousand years have passed and many changes have been wrought. The animals are wild and no longer speak, the trees have stopped moving, man and creatures of the forest don’t live in peace (in other words, the world has started resembling normal cities). The Telmarines rule, with the proxy king Miraz at the helm. When a son is born to Miraz, he immediately decides to dispose off the rightful heir, the young and dashing Prince Caspian. Caspian escapes and must get his throne back and bring peace onto the land like the good old days.

I can’t remember the last time I read books where young kids had weighty responsibilities resting on their shoulders. The storyline revolves a lot around being brave, and responsible and kind. No matter how bad the odds, good will always triumph over evil. All creatures of the earth have their place in the world and should not be disrespected. An Age of Innocence is evoked and is evoked rather well till you forget that you are no longer ten and will have to step into the realities of life once the movie is over. You simply sit and watch curiously as the kids face their own human foibles and eventually go back to the basic DNA of Narnia’s existence to bring everlasting (or till the next instalment) peace.

And then there are the special effects. The biggest grouse when you read a fantasy book is that the big screen does not quite capture the walking tree or the enormous palace in quite the same way as you had it in your mind. Not having read the book, I did not have a preconceived notion of what everything should look like. But boy, these things are getting closer to your imagination with every passing movie. Meshing together animated animals, dwarves, centaurs, moving trees and a furious river is not an easy task but the movie does manage it.

A good movie to watch if you want to a quick flashback into your childhood fantasy world.

Movie Review - Evano Oruvan,Khoya Khoya Chand

Two movies that I thought I would really enjoy. Both disappointing me, most likely from my own high expectations.

Evano Oruvan’s opening sequence of normal household noises – an alarm clock ringing, buckets being filled and the local train cutting through the wind – had me worried for a moment. Please god, don’t make this a pretentious art movie. Luckily, after the title credits, we are introduced to an honest, middle-middle class Sridhar Vasudevan (Madhavan), his nagging wife Vatsala (Sangeetha) and their two kids. Vasu is every bit the dignified, honest and respectable white-collar employee, on a tight salary, a home loan and a life bordering on comfortable. However, he does not sport the normal middle class tendency to adjust and compromise and bribe a bit. After one too many disappointments of living with an ‘upright’ husband, a frustrated Vatsala tells him to stop whining and fight the system if he hates it so much, little imagining that Vasu will actually do so. Vasu breaks down and during the course of the next two days, goes about beating up every lawbreaker he comes across.

Assigned to his case, is a police officer Vetrimaran (Seeman) who correctly points out that a white-collar employee taking up arms is an indication of a system breaking down. No middle class man would ever fight unless he is pushed to the brink.

Vasu finally jerks out of this mode when an old middle class Tam Bram woman for whose rights he is fighting, refuses to accept the help of a violent man like him. Vasu and Vetrimaran come to their final encounter.

All principal characters are well etched. Vetrimaran’s role manages to straddle a police officer who can sympathise with Vasu but is unlikely to give up his life, career, and comforts in a quest to save Vasu. Vasu’s rampage does not resemble quintessentially Kollywood reformers like Anniyan or Indian. There are no cold calculated moves, just blind rage stemming from a frustration at the corruption in daily life. Even tiny parts like that of the corrupt water lorry assistant who shamelessly letches at a teenage girl are shown realistically.

However it is the larger picture that gets confusing. Does Vasu go on his rampage because he is unhappy with his own life or corruption in general? Why do the senior police officers want Vasu dead especially in a day and age where media would make a martyr out of Vasu? The movie loses focus, steam and logic at these junctures.

Overall, I would have expected better but is still worthwhile to watch on dvd someday.

Khoya Khoya Chand was worse. The settings and the mood were brilliant. The clothes, the hairstyles, the songs, the music composing sessions so different from today’s technologically superior studios, the same casting couch problems, the Bengali director high on artistic integrity and liquor, the Punjabi producer shamelessly spouting commercialism and neither character coming across as stereotypes. Alas, the principal character is the victim of this attention to detail on everything else. Nikhat (Soha Ali Khan) is supposed to be an actress who is exploited by everyone, manages to make it a success in Bollywood and then takes up drinking as her career and personal life nosedive. Sadly it is a rare moment when you can understand or empathise with Nikhat. She looks the same whether it is confessing her first casting couch experience at 14, or discovering that her memories of a loving father are not true or buying liquor surreptitiously from a bootlegger. In a scale of ‘how much I empathized with the character’, if Mr Bean scored a 3, Nikhat would score 1. Especially considering that I was pre disposed to weep for her as she is supposed to be based on real life heroines like Waheeda Rehman who did suffer a lot of trauma.

Rajat Kapoor as the aging hero, Premkumar, has a great role and does it well. Shiney Ahuja as the self-involved writer Zafar again vacillates from realistic to uni-dimensional. Peripheral support characters like Vinay Pathak, Saurabh Shukla, Sonya Jehan shine.

The movie reminded me of some of the dinners I have been to. The table is set right, complete with excellent chinaware and filled with well-garnished, delectable looking items, but the actual food usually tastes average. Looks great for a photo shoot but you can never forget yourself in it.

Movie Review - Victor/Victoria

Victoria Grant (Julie Andrews) is an out-of-work Soprano in 1930s Paris . Toddy (Robert Preston) is an aging, poor, homosexual entertainer who has been sacked from his job. The two form an alliance of sympathy one fine night of trying to cheat a restaurant into feeding them for free. In high spirits Toddy comes up with the idea of dressing up Victoria as a gay member of the Polish royalty, Count Victor Grazinski. Count Grazinki’s unique talent will be an ability to sing like a woman and play the lead female in the famous Paris musicals. Count Grazinki turns into a wild success and Victoria is all set for a career as a woman pretending to be a man impersonating a woman. However, matters get complicated when Chicago club owner King Marchand (James Garner) falls in love with Victoria . Victoria loves him too but asks him to accept her complete with her public face as a man. Marchand is forced to pretend he is gay. Marchand’s bodyguard, Bernstein (Alex Karras), delighted by this revelation, comes out of the closet himself.

However, not all is well. The Mob which backs Marchand’s club wants him to sell out cheap since they don’t want ‘faggots’ running the club. Victoria realizes that the world thinking she is a man is complicating her relationship with Marchand. How do they resolve it?

The movie keeps the tone lighthearted with a corny storyline, Wodehousian style crowd fights, some sparkling wit and fabulous dance numbers. This is probably just the right tone to gently touch upon the aspects of being a woman and being gay. In a seeming casual manner it states some obvious truths. Victoria does not give up on the rest of her life (a la Bollywood heroines) the minute she falls in love with Marchand. She frankly admits that she likes him but in the same breath says her career is as important. This does put Marchand in the bizarre position of having to pretend he is gay. However, it highlights nicely the point that women are entitled to their own identify.

Marchand after one evening of dancing check to cheek with Victor amidst other cooing male couples is quite upset. He stops at a third rate pub, gets into a fight with the ruffians there and spends a happy evening affirming his masculinity by swigging beers with all his black eyed opponents. When Bernstein confesses to being gay, Marchand is shocked that someone so ‘All American’ can be gay.

Originally adapted from a German movie, the English version won various prizes for its cast and crew. However, having no access to cable, I don’t know if it is one of those movies that has made it to the list of reruns. It certainly should.

Movie review - Letters from Iwo Jima

Letters from Iwo Jima, the sister film of ‘Flags of our Fathers’ details the story of Japanese men fighting to retain the Iwo Jima Island. Located at a strategic point, Iwo Jima was attacked by the Americans in the WW 2 to enable easy access to the Japanese mainland.

Within the first few scenes of the movie, the stark contrast in the mood between Flags of our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima becomes apparent. The American side had sent a huge flotilla into battle, the impressive columns upon columns of ships providing a sense of grandeur in the former movie. The Japanese side, on the other hand, was already losing and starved for weapons and people and would face the advancing American troops with less than fifty tanks and no air or naval support. The American soldiers thought they were going back home at the end of the battle. The Japanese soldiers knew they would have to stay and defend the island till the last one of them died. This is what makes Japanese General Kuribayashi’s (Ken Watanabe) attempts to lead his team among the fear, bravery and confusion so very touching.

Kuribayashi arrives at Iwo Jima to find soldiers digging trenches in the beaches. Having stayed in the U.S. for a few months, he and Lt Col Nishii are among the few who appreciate U.S. technological capability. Realising that the question is not about defeating the American troops, but holding them back for as long as they can, he shuns the traditional war fare technique of fighting the landing American fleets on the beaches. After investigating the island, he forms an unconventional strategy of attacking from hidden spots. He orders his men to dig caves and tunnels from which to shoot without being attacked themselves.

The movie essentially captures two perspectives. General Kuribayashi portraying how lonely it is at the top. He knows more than anybody else that his death is a matter of time. He still resolutely marches on preparing to fight a lost battle using limited resources and demoralized men. Most of his men find his strategy too non traditional and reeking of ‘American sympathies’. They also don’t understand why he insists that they should not honourably commit suicide when their posts are captured. Instead he urges them to join other posts and continue the battle. Dysentery in the island has already brought down the morale of the troop. As the battle progresses, some of the troops take their fates into their own hands, laying to naught any strategy.

The other is of a fictional character, a baker turned soldier Saigo. Brought into a battle he does not understand or want to fight, he blunders on, saving his skin by twists of fate. Saigo is shaken when his friend dies of ‘honourable dysentery’. He suspects a colleague of being an imperial spy to unearth any disloyal thoughts. The traditional Japanese honour is visibly lacking in him as he curses the battle, refuses to commit Hara Kiri and at some point thinks of turning deserter.

The paths of Kuribayashi and Saigo cross several times in the movie. In the end a wounded Kuribayashi dies in front of Saigo after confirming the island is still Japanese. Saigo is captured by the Americans. Desperately but sincerely he tries to fight for the first time to recover Kuribayashi’s gun from American hands.

The story is of underdogs, so tear jerking opportunities are aplenty. There are a few scenes placed for tugging at your heart strings – Japanese soldiers giving scarce morphine to an American PoW and an American soldier killing Japanese deserters, both nationalities acting contrary to reputation. Lt Col Nishii reading a letter written to an American soldier by his mom where you can almost smell the apple pie. Yet the melodrama is reigned in well. Some scenes are touching. Some are not. There are no overt scenes of bravery. The movie is somehow practical in it’s portrayal of how soldiers would behave. The pace is also faster than Flags of our Fathers. The interesting bit is how cultural conditioning can sometimes make it impossible to think out of the box (Strong MBA course material here).

Worth watching if only to get a sense of how a war is fought on the ground by common soldiers. Don’t expect scientific guidance on how to fight a war or any celebration of the fact that 21000 Japanese men kept the 100000 strong U.S. forces at bay for 35 days.

Movie Marathon

Eyes popping

Ears buzzing from wearing headphones

DVD player in a permanent state of mild heat

My marathon movie watching session came to an end yesterday. Or let us say has been put on pause while I go and pick up fresh DVDs from the store.

Friday night kicked off with Friends with Money. A nice chick flick to bring me into the holiday mood, I thought. How wrong I was. Four women. In different states of singledom, marriage, separation. At different levels of poor, middle class and moneyed. If the word ‘bittersweet’ is popping into your head after the above description, desist. It was just plain bitter.

Saturday, I decided to head out for fresh air and watched Om Shanthi Om in the theatres. I thoroughly enjoyed the first half with its ‘homage’ to the 70s Bollywood. The second half with its ‘homage’ to present day Bollywood had its moments. Overall though it would not merit a second watch

Back in front of the TV on Saturday evening. Cheeni Kum after many months of wondering if a love story between a 60 something and 30 something is really meant for me. Surprisingly the Amitabh – Tabu chemistry worked perfectly well. Other angles in the movie did not have the same natural pace and rhythm.

Sunday night, Johnny Gaddar. Which I had missed in the blink-and-you-will-miss-it show at Satyam Theatre. Made at an amazing pace, with twists and turns worthy of a good heist movie. Neil Nitin Mukesh is perfectly cast. Dharmendra speaking English and spouting quotes like ‘It is not age. It is mileage’ is hilarious. The chemistry between all lead actors is pretty good. Overall it makes you think why the Indian audience flops a movie like this while Raja Hindustani ends up as a superhit.

Wrapped up last night with The Good German. George Clooney and Cate Blanchett act in this I-am-trying-really-hard-to-do-an-intense-40s movie. The movie is black and white. There are dramatic bursts of music apropos old movies. Everyone is captured in profile and in light and shade. Pity the story and the script forgot to keep pace with this intensity. George Clooney talking to himself almost felt like Calvin in his detective moods.

Jab We Met

Ignore the improbably wildly careening storyline. Pretend you do not notice the overdose of balle balles. Instead just focus on the more-often-than-not interesting banter between the lead pair. Tap your foot to some of the hummable songs. Admire some of Kareena’s outfits. Ponder over Shahid Kapoor’s new hunk look. You will be done with 2.5 hours and walk home with a grin, without recollecting a single memorable bit in the movie.

My definition of a good time pass..

Movie review - Dhamaal

I must admit that I never thought I would watch a movie named ‘Dhamaal’. However Outlook’s Namrata Joshi had given it a good review and I respect that dame’s reviewing skills quite a bit.

It was so worth it.

Inspired by It’s a mad mad mad world and generously recycling old school jokes, Mr Bean episodes, Tinkle stories, internet forwards et al, the movie manages to get the comedy element just right.

You need to get past Manav’s and Boman’s introductory scenes, which have the gross kind of toilet humour that makes me avoid most movies with that have a minimum of four heroes in it. Once you cross that, it is pretty much a smooth ride. The five main characters are mostly hilarious, with Javed miles ahead of the rest (Why oh why is he not acting in more movies?). All of them are on a hunt for a treasure buried in Goa. They make the trip down to Goa, fighting amongst themselves, splitting up, making other friends and finally reuniting to make one last effort. It ends with the same lightness that flows through the rest of the movie.

At two and a half hours, it is just the right length. The first half is more hilarious than the second. There are no useless jokes about women and the toilet humour stuff is just about five minutes long. A dozen characters roll in and out of the movie, all of them quite interesting. Stereotypes are shamelessly laughed at but this is the kind of movie where you expect and forgive it. It has definitely been a long time since some really decent slapstick made it to Bollywood big screen. Good time pass.

Movie review - Ratatouille

I enjoyed watching this movie a lot because

1. I am a sucker for animation movies.

2. It is great to watch people saying 'two tickets for the rat movie please'. The intrepid ones who tried to pronounce said 'rat - a - tool'

3. Any movie that is about food, smelling it, feeling it and eating it is worth a dekko

4. The first five minutes alone deserved special applause. The rest of the movie was predictable but I like to see good people getting their due in the end

5. It was Friday night and I was out of office by 6.15 to watch a 7 p.m. show. I have a life!!