Kachra can spin the ball, yet cannot be picked because the Zamindars and the Mukhiyas of the land do not approve of his caste. One man rises to open their eyes and after a long melodramatic speech, the people are miraculously transformed to a tear-jerking climax.
And while Aamir Khan could only have pulled it off onscreen, it takes the King/Dr./Lord Shahrukh Khan to do it in real life. It’s a different matter that he might have earlier retorted to Shobha De questioning his silence on 26/11 about how he’s an actor and not a person to opine on political matters, this time it indeed was grave. For it was cricket. It’s also a different matter that his upcoming film was banking heavily on overseas south asian audience....but then isn't co-incidence the only logical explanation too for lets say the sudden big bang or even perfect solar eclipses?
So it was only fair that the King Khan tweets (pun intended) his bold ‘Pakistani players should have been chosen’ statement. At first, you can’t help but appreciate his celebrated tongue in cheek witticism when he said that. Almost as ironical as his trying to look macho while saying ‘Mardo waali strong cream’ in a men’s fairness cream advert, for this was coming from a man who himself was part of the auction that happened. But that initial snigger is broken by the realization…’hold on…he’s serious?’
So he was. But where he’d have expected his mumbling to reach the other side of the border under the covering fire of cacophony of the governments fighting over the same, he seemed to get caught at the wrong end. Like that kid in school whose voice is just part of the classroom noise till without warning the class inadvertently goes quiet leaving his voice exposed. This is where the old dying tiger smells its prey which has mistakenly stumbled up right in its den. And the Thakreys rise from their deep slumber to pop their knuckles and crack their necks. What follows is an exchange of messages little fiercer than love notes where the media plays the messenger and the country nods its head left and right in the tennis match that follows.
The situation builds up to the notes of beethoven’s symphony#9 and as with its ending crescendo, Ruckus is created, police step in, and Mumbai is yet again put at war with itself to determine its identity. MNIK stands symbolic of this identity and the fight is now to save it from becoming the property of the goons. It finally releases amidst the chaos and ends up opening to packed houses across the country.
This is the happy ending. Our hero and the director celebrate the success of their film over champagne in their bubble bath, the new recruits of sena finally got a practical intro to their course ‘Tearing posters 101’, and the general public sleeps well after having ensured the success of the film in their fight against tyranny. This was easier than buying the Che Guevara T-shirts. This was rebellion delivered right at the doorsteps. That leaves just the Pakistani players, but they can always wait for the next IPL.
All is now well in this country.
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Trainspotting
‘Choose Life. Choose a Job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big Television. Choose Washing Machines, Cars, Compact Disc Players and electrical tin opener.
Choose good health. Low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a home. Choose your friends.
Choose Leisurewear, and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase. Choose DIY wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose a couch watching mind numbing spirit crushing game shows stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth.
Choose rotting away at the end of it all pissing your last in a miserable home nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish brats you’ve spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose Life !
But why would I want to do a thing like that. I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin.’
And its theme. Only, the nonconformist here swings between choosing and not choosing life.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Piff - Day 2
Sunday
The plan was pretty straightforward for day 2. Get up, drive up and witness what the festival had to offer today. Like yesterday, I wasn’t able to browse much through the catalogue, and had left the choice of films open to contemplation, mainly governed by my whim at the moment. Barring a few bad decisions, I thought I stayed pretty much on track, getting what I wanted from the fest. Few recollections from the day:
Woman with a camera
Reached a little late to catch the film from its start, but managed to catch most of it nonetheless. The movie was truly for, of and by women. Which was little disappointing for me at least. It upsets, and sometimes puzzles me when women start identifying with a creed of their own. Women’s day for instance. Before expecting men to give their share of respect, it is important that women too erase that grey line, and stop identifying themselves as an oppressed class. Anyways, this seems to spawn a new argument altogether, most of which the film doesn’t deserve, so I’ll take it in a separate thread. Having said what I said above, I still found the film noteworthy, portraying the vivid kaleidoscope of Indian, and more specifically keralite women, quite elegantly. Besides catching real life glimpses from a wide area, it also had certain abstract sequences filled in that made the painting complete. Overall, a good attempt, and definitely a well thought of film.
Thanks
The post screening session said it all. For a change, the audience was blunt on the face of the film’s representative telling him that he had left too much to the imagination. I did agree with some who spoke, as I too felt that though it is best left to the viewer to read between the lines, a film must have the substance to provoke him to do so. Otherwise, it all appears a random sequence of images created just to satisfy the director’s whims.
Chaabi Waali Pocket watch
This one was my personal favorite. So what I write here is prejudiced by my individual admiration for the film. Reason 1 – it being a ftii diploma film which I feel is reason enough. It is like catching a gushing stream right at its source. True it is majestic and grand going down the stages, but the purity of the trickling stream picks its own draw of admirers. With some of the diploma films I’ve managed to get my hands on, one can see the art of filmmaking at its embryonic best. The depth of intense thoughts is portrayed through the outdated, commercially inept equipments, much like the concept itself. It always was, and forever will be the story with ftii films. Reason 2 - the plot: pick an urdu poet, looming in obscurity, and base him in hyederabad. The idea was simple, yet having that intellectual appeal. It was played well as an old, yet spirited shayar who chooses anonymity with deliberation. From the words of the protagonist ‘ Vo fankaar hi kya jise avval hone ke liye awaam ki mohor chahiye’. The film had many short citations that kept the film rolling. Reason 3 – Gayatri Kachru : this was a pleasant surprise. Gayatri used to be my senior in school, pretty then as she is now. Once or twice I had the opportunity to have her company among other friends (whom she knew better I must admit), during the lunch breaks. I somehow remember she couldn’t pronounce my name correctly, much to the amusement of others. Well, that mispronounced name she’d very much have forgotten by now, but it was unusual, and hence moving to see someone you had known in school being part of the credits that rolled. Reason 4 – its cinematography and Art direction: The film was a visual treat if nothing else. Though the cinematography was slightly biased towards gayatri, it deserved a separate round of ovation for its brilliance.
The Old barber
I always had my doubts with Chinese films. Some that I had seen seemed to have a very picturesque subject far from the tries and tribulations of human emotions. Besides, some of them used camera techniques to ‘bend’ the reality to the script’s favour which turned me off. With nothing better showing in other theaters, I decided to try my luck with this one. Also, the title seemed interesting, so did the synopsis. I was at my cynical best(or worst) for the first few shots, that were quite slow paced. I was sure that they were intentionally created so as to catch the critics’ interest. But gradually, the story picked up pace, clearing my doubts of it not being a genuine film. For instance, the winding of the clock at 9 pm everyday that was becoming monotonous when shown repeatedly, soon took meaning when Uncle Jing doesn’t wind it one day. What moved me most was that it could very well have ended as the audience had expected it to, and it’d still have been appreciated. But the story skims through the exit points, often playing with the viewer’s anticipations. It was quite satirical in that way. It ends quite well, marking a perfect closure to a well made movie.
Vietnam symphony
This was a documentary based on a Vietnamese make-do underground music school during the war. The film fared well, tracing some of the graduates from the school, and accompanying them on their walk down the memory lane.
The Black Road
An intense documentary to say the least. Where the line between being a neutral observer is questioned, and finally crossed. Nessen, an Australian journalist who was there to cover the freedom movement rising in the Aceh’s from the Indonesian military’s perspective, soon found himself changing his viewpoint about the rebellion, and later supporting their cause with all his might (well..almost). From gun battles to the mourning over those dead, Nessen covers the rise and fall of the struggle from its very core. It had the power to take the viewer’s attention off it being a documentary, and mull over the cause. Honestly, I must admit I was slightly relieved to hear that peace was declared in the region…though with a mere compromise of a bargained autonomy to aceh, against their voice for complete independence. Made me also reflect over a cause closer at home…could we have gone wrong there?
The Collector
&
UNO
These were the bad decisions I had mentioned. UNO being worse of the two. I’d have gone for ‘The Little Lieutenant’ had I not overheard two chaps discussing in marathi of how good UNO was. Either I judged with the wrong people, or my marathi needs hell lot of improvement. Either ways, wonder how the other movies fared.
In parallel, there was a movie that took quite a rush. Thereby sparing me and a few others a lot of breathing space in other halls. It was the first movie (and I assume it’d be the last) in the fest, where people crowded up in front of the gate much before the intended start. Such was the fervour, that the tide of people now owe the regular E-square clientele a slightly un-hinged door at screen 3. The title of the film – ‘Just sex and nothing else’.
And to say that we indians don’t believe in the concept…well, sez who !
The plan was pretty straightforward for day 2. Get up, drive up and witness what the festival had to offer today. Like yesterday, I wasn’t able to browse much through the catalogue, and had left the choice of films open to contemplation, mainly governed by my whim at the moment. Barring a few bad decisions, I thought I stayed pretty much on track, getting what I wanted from the fest. Few recollections from the day:
Woman with a camera
Reached a little late to catch the film from its start, but managed to catch most of it nonetheless. The movie was truly for, of and by women. Which was little disappointing for me at least. It upsets, and sometimes puzzles me when women start identifying with a creed of their own. Women’s day for instance. Before expecting men to give their share of respect, it is important that women too erase that grey line, and stop identifying themselves as an oppressed class. Anyways, this seems to spawn a new argument altogether, most of which the film doesn’t deserve, so I’ll take it in a separate thread. Having said what I said above, I still found the film noteworthy, portraying the vivid kaleidoscope of Indian, and more specifically keralite women, quite elegantly. Besides catching real life glimpses from a wide area, it also had certain abstract sequences filled in that made the painting complete. Overall, a good attempt, and definitely a well thought of film.
Thanks
The post screening session said it all. For a change, the audience was blunt on the face of the film’s representative telling him that he had left too much to the imagination. I did agree with some who spoke, as I too felt that though it is best left to the viewer to read between the lines, a film must have the substance to provoke him to do so. Otherwise, it all appears a random sequence of images created just to satisfy the director’s whims.
Chaabi Waali Pocket watch
This one was my personal favorite. So what I write here is prejudiced by my individual admiration for the film. Reason 1 – it being a ftii diploma film which I feel is reason enough. It is like catching a gushing stream right at its source. True it is majestic and grand going down the stages, but the purity of the trickling stream picks its own draw of admirers. With some of the diploma films I’ve managed to get my hands on, one can see the art of filmmaking at its embryonic best. The depth of intense thoughts is portrayed through the outdated, commercially inept equipments, much like the concept itself. It always was, and forever will be the story with ftii films. Reason 2 - the plot: pick an urdu poet, looming in obscurity, and base him in hyederabad. The idea was simple, yet having that intellectual appeal. It was played well as an old, yet spirited shayar who chooses anonymity with deliberation. From the words of the protagonist ‘ Vo fankaar hi kya jise avval hone ke liye awaam ki mohor chahiye’. The film had many short citations that kept the film rolling. Reason 3 – Gayatri Kachru : this was a pleasant surprise. Gayatri used to be my senior in school, pretty then as she is now. Once or twice I had the opportunity to have her company among other friends (whom she knew better I must admit), during the lunch breaks. I somehow remember she couldn’t pronounce my name correctly, much to the amusement of others. Well, that mispronounced name she’d very much have forgotten by now, but it was unusual, and hence moving to see someone you had known in school being part of the credits that rolled. Reason 4 – its cinematography and Art direction: The film was a visual treat if nothing else. Though the cinematography was slightly biased towards gayatri, it deserved a separate round of ovation for its brilliance.
The Old barber
I always had my doubts with Chinese films. Some that I had seen seemed to have a very picturesque subject far from the tries and tribulations of human emotions. Besides, some of them used camera techniques to ‘bend’ the reality to the script’s favour which turned me off. With nothing better showing in other theaters, I decided to try my luck with this one. Also, the title seemed interesting, so did the synopsis. I was at my cynical best(or worst) for the first few shots, that were quite slow paced. I was sure that they were intentionally created so as to catch the critics’ interest. But gradually, the story picked up pace, clearing my doubts of it not being a genuine film. For instance, the winding of the clock at 9 pm everyday that was becoming monotonous when shown repeatedly, soon took meaning when Uncle Jing doesn’t wind it one day. What moved me most was that it could very well have ended as the audience had expected it to, and it’d still have been appreciated. But the story skims through the exit points, often playing with the viewer’s anticipations. It was quite satirical in that way. It ends quite well, marking a perfect closure to a well made movie.
Vietnam symphony
This was a documentary based on a Vietnamese make-do underground music school during the war. The film fared well, tracing some of the graduates from the school, and accompanying them on their walk down the memory lane.
The Black Road
An intense documentary to say the least. Where the line between being a neutral observer is questioned, and finally crossed. Nessen, an Australian journalist who was there to cover the freedom movement rising in the Aceh’s from the Indonesian military’s perspective, soon found himself changing his viewpoint about the rebellion, and later supporting their cause with all his might (well..almost). From gun battles to the mourning over those dead, Nessen covers the rise and fall of the struggle from its very core. It had the power to take the viewer’s attention off it being a documentary, and mull over the cause. Honestly, I must admit I was slightly relieved to hear that peace was declared in the region…though with a mere compromise of a bargained autonomy to aceh, against their voice for complete independence. Made me also reflect over a cause closer at home…could we have gone wrong there?
The Collector
&
UNO
These were the bad decisions I had mentioned. UNO being worse of the two. I’d have gone for ‘The Little Lieutenant’ had I not overheard two chaps discussing in marathi of how good UNO was. Either I judged with the wrong people, or my marathi needs hell lot of improvement. Either ways, wonder how the other movies fared.
In parallel, there was a movie that took quite a rush. Thereby sparing me and a few others a lot of breathing space in other halls. It was the first movie (and I assume it’d be the last) in the fest, where people crowded up in front of the gate much before the intended start. Such was the fervour, that the tide of people now owe the regular E-square clientele a slightly un-hinged door at screen 3. The title of the film – ‘Just sex and nothing else’.
And to say that we indians don’t believe in the concept…well, sez who !
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Piff - Day 1
another filler for now....
btw, day 1 here was actually saturday...Since I got to attend the fest only for selective days, i've decided to number the days as per my calender. (I skipped friday's shows)
btw, day 1 here was actually saturday...Since I got to attend the fest only for selective days, i've decided to number the days as per my calender. (I skipped friday's shows)
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Friday, April 08, 2005
Sessionals over....finally!
The 16th sessionals of my B.Tech course got over today. Should be the last ones hopefully. Still can't stop thinking about the futility of it all. What rocket science does the university teach us in 4 months that it requires to test twice a semester?(+ the end sems!)
anyways, went for a movie afterwards. This one had been up for some time - "My Brother Nikhil". A well made film, must say. Though i personally feel that more could have been said through the movie, but a notable attempt nonetheless. Its set in Goa around the time of 1989-90 and is about the changes in the life of a person that come with the revelation of the fact that he is HIV+. The way he is mortified and ostracized by the people around him is depicted prominently throughout the film. The film succeeds in portraying the shocking ignorance about the disease that people had at that time. The scene when he jumps into the pool, only to see other swimmers rushing out of it, is quite striking. He is subjected to numerous other ordeals by his friends and family alike. This is when his sister and his boyfriend fight for his cause and succeed in getting him out of the subjected isolation and bring him back to the society. The movie continues showing his efforts to regain a place in the society. However, his health continues deteriorating and he dies in the end.
Apart from the social message in the film, what struck me more was how the relationships were portrayed. The relationship between Juhi Chawla(sister) and Sanjay Suri(Nikhil) covers most of the storyline, as is expected from the title of the movie. But the friendship that Nikhil and Nigel(Purab) share, is shown equally distinctly and beautifully. Although, another issue like homosexuality was involved, I feel, the director succeeded in taking the focus off it and show the solidarity that they shared with more prominence.
Goa is shown beautifully. Especially the seaside by the night. Some scenes were really a visual treat to watch. But here again, it has been masterfully set to act as the backdrop to the story not interfering with it at any moment.
In terms of acting, Sanjay Suri has done a decent job, though he appears to falter in some scenes. However, the work of Juhi Chawla and Purab were really commendable. Overall, I found that movie conveyed what it had to convey and is reasonably fast paced contrary to what is expected of similar films.
anyways, went for a movie afterwards. This one had been up for some time - "My Brother Nikhil". A well made film, must say. Though i personally feel that more could have been said through the movie, but a notable attempt nonetheless. Its set in Goa around the time of 1989-90 and is about the changes in the life of a person that come with the revelation of the fact that he is HIV+. The way he is mortified and ostracized by the people around him is depicted prominently throughout the film. The film succeeds in portraying the shocking ignorance about the disease that people had at that time. The scene when he jumps into the pool, only to see other swimmers rushing out of it, is quite striking. He is subjected to numerous other ordeals by his friends and family alike. This is when his sister and his boyfriend fight for his cause and succeed in getting him out of the subjected isolation and bring him back to the society. The movie continues showing his efforts to regain a place in the society. However, his health continues deteriorating and he dies in the end.
Apart from the social message in the film, what struck me more was how the relationships were portrayed. The relationship between Juhi Chawla(sister) and Sanjay Suri(Nikhil) covers most of the storyline, as is expected from the title of the movie. But the friendship that Nikhil and Nigel(Purab) share, is shown equally distinctly and beautifully. Although, another issue like homosexuality was involved, I feel, the director succeeded in taking the focus off it and show the solidarity that they shared with more prominence.
Goa is shown beautifully. Especially the seaside by the night. Some scenes were really a visual treat to watch. But here again, it has been masterfully set to act as the backdrop to the story not interfering with it at any moment.
In terms of acting, Sanjay Suri has done a decent job, though he appears to falter in some scenes. However, the work of Juhi Chawla and Purab were really commendable. Overall, I found that movie conveyed what it had to convey and is reasonably fast paced contrary to what is expected of similar films.
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