Archive for the ‘bollywood’ Category

Sam: [In the women’s dressing room] What kind of bird are you?
Sparrow: [Starting to point to the other actresses] I’m a sparrow, she’s a dove…
Sam: [Cutting her off] No. I said…
[Points to Suzy]
Sam: What kind of bird are YOU?
Suzy: I’m a raven.
what-kind-of-bird-are-you

I have stood in front of the mirror, pointed my index finger at my image, just like Sam points at Suzy in that delicious Wes Anderson film, and have asked the same question quite a number of time, using all kind of possible emotions. And whenever i think about the scene, it still makes me smile. Bit of Googling tells me that am not the only one who loves this dialogue so much. Though it’s quite difficult to dissect why such a simple line from the film has turned out to be one of my favourite quotes of the year and has stayed back with me for such a long time.

So i thought about doing a collaborative post on similar lines. Quickly mailed some of the friends/films buffs for a simple exercise –

1. Close your eyes

2. Think of all the films you have seen in 2012…released/unreleased/long/short/docu/anything

3. Think what has stayed back with you…impressed/touched/affected/blew

4. Write on it and tell us why.

And i didn’t tell anyone else what the other person was writing about. Got some very interesting responses on all kinds of films and i have put it all together in this collaborative post – 15 film buffs on 17 movies (memories) of the year. The post has turned out to be bit long but hopefully you will enjoy it. And it can also serve as a movie recco list if you haven’t seen the films.

@CilemsSnob

Joshua #TheActOfKilling

—–> Kushan Nandy on The Act of Killing

I saw this two and a half hour-plus documentary at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2012 and was blown away. Long after the film got over, after Joshua Oppenheimer spoke about it, even much after, weeks later, the film haunted me. It did to me what Incendies had done to me a couple of years back. But much more.

Never before have I seen a film or documentary, where, during the process of film making, the characters go through a life changing process. They metamorphosize into better beings, and this becomes a part of the actual film.

For example, what would happen if someone video interviewed Modi, his political associates or even the people who were the actual executioners of the 2002 Gujarat massacres? And they all accepted their crimes and celebrated this with glee? But suddenly, one of them changed, understanding the repercussions of what he had done?

Anwar, from The Act of Killing, is a person I will never forget. He had butchered thousands. But it was this documentary, and the process of filming it, that showed him who he actually was. He can’t sleep anymore, he stutters, he throws up. He will never be the same again.

And after watching this film, I wont either.

SRK JTHJ1

—–> Varun Grover on Shah Rukh Khan/Jab Tak Hai Jaan

Setting: 7 degree centigrade. Fog. Railway station. A small town in North India where Shatabdi/Rajdhani trains don’t stop.

My fingers are numb and typing out each letter is like feeling the power of it. For some strange reason, the 1st image from Cinema of 2012 that comes to my mind is SRK’s bike rising above the horizon as AR Rahman’s strings go crazy in the background. The theme music of JTHJ (the one they used in promos) it is. Call it the power of music, and it can’t be anything else ‘cos I didn’t even bother to watch the film, or call it my latent romanticism.

My friends from Lucknow – who were there alongside me, fighting for tickets outside Anand cinema hall in 1997 when Dil To Paagal Hai released – watched JTHJ on 1st day in Lucknow and sent me an excited SMS telling me – “Don’t believe the reviews. It’s as good as any Yash Chopra – SRk film you’ve seen. The crowd at Novelty loved it.”

The crowd at Novelty. I was that crowd once. My life’s biggest joys came from being that crowd. Especially on being among the select few who had the matinee show ticket on the 1st day. (1st show was for loafers, matinee was for civilized middle class.)

For Dil Toh Paagal Hai, our friends’ group of 5 was split into 2. Three of us got the evening show, while two fortunate ones got the matinee show. They were clearly the winners – getting to see Maya and Rahul and a new-look Karishma before us. Also they’d get to tease us on their way out, may be telling a couple of spoilers too. So we tried our best to avoid them as their show got over and we were allowed in.

But as it turned out – the theatre owner had cut the film by 15 mins in the 1st and 2nd shows. Apparently he didn’t think the Karishma outrage scene by the river had any merit. But when he saw the audience going crazy with whatever they saw in 1st two shows, he added the cut footage back. And we, the losers till just a few hours ago, were the 1st bunch in Lucknow to watch the entire film.

This scene, Karishma blaming God for complications in love, is almost the crux of Jab Tak Hai Jaan. Though that doesn’t explain why that image of SRK is the 1st that comes to mind. My nostalgia does.

Paan Singh Tomar4

—–> Varun Grover on Paan Singh Tomar

Now inside the train. Cozy and warm. Time to think clearly.

I can’t be a cinema buff by just noting down SRK/ARR as the lasting memory of 2012. But of course there are more. Neeraj Kabi’s intellectual-saint from Ship of Theseus, Denis Lavant and Kylie Minogue singing the existential song of the year (Who Were/Are We) in a post-apocalyptic shopping mall, Sridevi’s eyes full of tears (sprinkled throughout EV), Pi’s uncle swimming in what appears to be sky, the big-screen film print grainy look on Naseer’s face as he looks in the mirror half-seduced, half-confused by Bhakti Barve’s reflection in JBDY (which re-released this year), the spaceship landing smoothly in waters next to a dense mountain in Cloud Atlas, the sad, spent face of Dimple Kapadia at Rajesh Khanna’s funeral (in contrast to a 21-year old Dimple asking Khanna which color sari she should wear for the wedding reception party in the excellent BBC docu resurrected this year due to once-superstar’s death), Gael Garcia Bernal walking away silently, amused and (maybe) depressed amidst the emotionally charged crowds of his nation in Pablo Lorrain’s excellent NO, the trailer of Nikhil Mahajan’s ‘Pune 52’ (though the film didn’t live up to the high expectations and made the trailer look like a red herring), Faisal Khan’s eyes as he lets his gun go crazy on Ramadhir Singh while singer-composer Sneha Khanwalkar screams ‘Teri kah ke loonga‘ in the background……. and I can go on and on.

But one image that will shake me for many more years, the one that is so depressing that I haven’t seen the film again even though it is, for me, one of the best films of the year – Paan Singh Tomar’s sadness at seeing his worst enemy Bhanwar Singh dead. The man who had forced Paan Singh to end his international sporting career to become a dacoit had died. And instead of being relieved, Paan Singh was left purpose-less. The cries of Paan Singh, telling Bhanwar Singh’s dead body that he will chase him in another world and get his answers still give me chills. Those lines are the best lines of the year for me, resonating so much with the cynicism and depression of our times, where one fine morning, without any notice, all good turns into hopeless, impossible bad by the apathy of the system and resident evil of vengeful human kind we are, making Paan Singh Tomar the film, a kind of socio-political version of unrequited love stories.

Talaash

—–> @Anand Kadam on Talaash

This year we saw a gamut of movies from the hilarious yet fresh Vicky Donor, violently poetic Gangs Of Wasseypur,  and a mystery with a pregnant femme fatale  – Kahaani . But the movie that has stayed with me, which still sneaks into my mind and cuddles me, is a strange one. I call it a strange choice since this movie isn’t a great one (to be honest), and i didn’t think of it much when i watched it. But the grief stricken Shekhawat and his wife refuse to leave me. Talaash is like “Rabbit hole” with more guilt. When you lose someone very close to you, really really close, his or her or its memories sticks to you like a parasite, sucking every notion of happiness from you. You become a robot going through your daily chores with only one thing playing inside your head – how things could/would have been different. And when a small ray of hope or redemption comes into your life, even if it defies common sense, you cling on to it, not for a closure which comes later (or does it really comes) but for confronting the loss and accepting life as it is.

This is Talaash for me, not the twist, not Kareena or Aamir Khan, or the underbelly of Mumbai. And as i had said it earlier – A movie is never about its twist and if it is, it’s not worth it.

Kumki

—–> @Vasan Bala on Kumki

This year, I guess, without much fuss some low budget sleeper hits happened down south. Sundarapandian, Pizza, Naduvula Konjam Pakkatha Kaanom (a few pages missing in between). This year’s Paruthiveen-set-in-the-Jungles-with-an-Elephant marked the debut of Sivaji Ganeshan’s grandson, KUMKI! Breathtakingly shot. Directed by Prabhu Solomon, the guy who made Mynaa.

The film was earlier called “Komban” (Big Tusker). It’s about a mahavat and his “timid” Elephant Kumki, which is supposed to keep a wild elephant Komban from straying into the fields. The film is basically Kumki v/s Komban. It almost reads like a Pixar film, doesn’t it? BUT….Like any south RURAL “hit” this too has it’s rugged faced man with a toothy grin walking behind a shy girl “LOU STORY”, this one too has endless walks and shy glances and grins and predictably ends in a bloody tragic battle. An epic elephant battle! and it boils down to Computer Generated Blood and Dust (hmmm..ummmm). It’s a bona fide formula now, it’s a dream debut for any Star before he graduates into City “Criminal and Cop” roles, mouthing punch lines and beating up Telugu Villains. Loved the music though.

take-this-waltz04

—–> Jahan Bakshi on The Sarah Polley Double Bill : Take This Waltz & Stories We Tell

Sarah Polley delivered a double whammy this year with two diametrically different but intrinsically linked films. The first was Take This Waltz, her deeply sensual and feminine take on love, longing and those gaps in life that we try to fill in vain, and those questions about relationships that never have easy answers. Once you get over the affectedness: the overtly twee touches and some clunky dialogue at the start, Take This Waltz is in turns both superbly seductive and devastating. Michelle Williams once again, brilliantly owns her character and her mousy imperfection, and it’s clear that Margot could only spring from the mind of a filmmaker with a distinctive voice, and one who is a woman. And it contains two of the most exhilarating (musical) sequences I’ve seen at the movies this year.

In Stories We Tell, Sarah turns the camera on her own family with a brave, deeply felt documentary/personal detective story about her discovery of her real biological father, but more importantly, the meaning of family, secrets, memory and the very nature of storytelling. This must have been an impossibly hard and emotionally testing project to put together, but Polley pulls it off- life might be messy but Stories We Tell holds together very well as a rich document, revelatory in unexpected ways. Watch it when you can, and you’ll see where Take This Waltz comes from.

Shanghai-Movie-2012-Review

—–> Kartik Krishnan and Fatema Kagalwala on Shanghai

Kartik’s take

He gets to know that the system is rotten, that the investigation he was heading was flawed to start with from beginning, that beyond the scattered red herrings lay the actual ‘villain’, who incidentally is the same person who gave him the power & ‘support’ to start the investigation in the first place, that the ‘villain’ is the CM of the State.

So easy for any protagonist to become an Anna Hazare/Kejriwal in such a case, or to become a whistle blower and later face the inevitable martyrdom (ala the Satyendra Dubeys & Manjunath Shanmughams). What else can a cog in a wheel in such a scenario do? Pickup the gun like Eddie Dunford in Red Riding 1974 and blaze away? Become corrupt like Micheal Corleone or Ram Saran Pandey (Mihir Pandya has written an awesome article on Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar) ? Or run away into overexposed light like Vijay in Pyaasa? Should he accept defeat and get down to some other profession like learning Medicine (like KK Menon in HKA), or resign hopelessly like Vikas Pande in The New Delhi Times? Even Z didn’t have an answer.

He goes to the party and plays a ‘Prisoner’s Dillema‘ of sorts with his Paneer tikka-munching Boss and the other Powerful man. Eventually he somehow manages to ensure that the guilty get their comeuppance. But this ‘victory’ is hollow. As his Boss asks him “Yeh hai tumhari Justice?”, he gives a reply which was there in the promos but sadly cut out from the film – “Justice Ka Sapna Maine Chhod Diya Hai”.

And this was probably my moment of the year which is not there in the film, but there in my memory, for a long time!

Fatema’s take

The cutaway from Dr. Ahmadi’s murder to the item song. It was a stroke of brilliance. Not only technically, but as a comment on our conscience in itself. Physically it’s a jolt, meant to unsettle us and shake us up. We’ve just witnessed a murder we’ve seen hundreds of times before but what we expect to come next is NOT an item song. And so we sit up and take notice. Besides, there is the juxtapositioning of the two warring factions of the film itself, one (the ‘good’) killed like a dog on the street and the other (the ‘bad’) celebrating his decadent power in all its ugliness. And then there is that tenuous mirror to our own conscience – what’s our rtn to this cutaway? Are we glad we are back into an indulgent song-n-dance setting and away from boring Dr Ahmadi? Or gratified by our own lust? Or guilty about feeling so? Or disgusted to watch such sharp contrasts unfolding in front of us? Or do we feel the cut is an over-sighted mistake? That the director doesn’t know what he is doing? The answer to this is a huge part of our response to the film and to think AND achieve something like this is no less than genius.
Beasts of the Southern Wild - 6—–> Shripriya Mahesh on Beasts Of The Southern Wild

The movie of the year for me was Beasts of the Southern Wild. I saw it in Sundance in January 2012 at it’s premier. I knew very little about the movie going in because the filmmakers were careful about not even putting out a trailer before the premier.

It was instantly captivating. I love the world Benh Zeitlin creates. It is constantly surprising, always engaging. All the actors are local and that lends significant authenticity to the world (bigwig directors would do well to take note). It tackles such powerful themes, but all from the perspective of the little girl, Hushpuppy, played to perfection by the adorable Quevenzhané Wallis.

There are no long speeches about government control, environmental disasters or about the right to live freely in a manner you choose. No sermonizing. The visuals speak and the magical realism is very nicely done. The music (also composed by Zeitlin) and the the production design really elevate this movie.

And it’s a debut feature. It won the Camera d’Or and Sundance.

Since the film’s theatrical release, there has been a fair share of haters. But for me, it just worked. Eleven months later, I still think about it.

ScreenShotAlma
—–>Mihir Desai on Fjögur Píanó

There are times when I can’t put things in words, I feel the need to express and communicate in visuals. Visuals stick with me and this year one such visual experiment has been playing in my head for the longest time. Directed by Alma Har’el, the Sigur Rós music video, Fjögur Píanó.

Har’el, director of last year’s surreal documentary Bombay Beach creates this gorgeous portrait about the painful pleasures of love. The couple, addicted to each other only really ‘feel’ the pain when separated. The edit juxtaposes the bruises on the girl with the boy softly touching the butterfly. This image stuck with me and Alma Har’el’s quote sums it up so perfectly, “For me it’s about not knowing how to get out of something without causing pain to somebody else.” Without lyrics Alma Har’el has created this beautiful story which I feel was one of the best, cinematic experiences of the year. Due credit to Sigur Rós’ music that inspired Alma Har’el to create this world. Click here to watch the video if you still haven’t seen it.

Other Picks: Celluloid Man, Last Ride, Rampart, Once Upon A Time In Anatolia, Holy Motors, Your Sister’s Sister.

Supermen Of Malegaon

—–> Neeraj Ghaywan on Supermen Of Malegaon

At the surface it may be about the lives of people dreaming about film-making with empty stomachs and hearts full of passion, it could be about an accidental hero, about a world we have never seen but still seems so close. The director is never interested in milking the tragedy of the crew’s limitations, their poverty or the tragic loss of the lead character. Instead, she turns it all into a celebration of life, we smile along with the characters who are making the film, in a way we reflect upon our own personal constraints and learn to laugh at them. It is a comment on the Bollywood system of over-produced film-making, it is paying homage to films of the 80s/90s, it’s also a drawing lessons about how to keep going at it even when there is no hope, it is philosophical at times, it is laughing at itself too.

A film that is so simple in its structure and still speak at so many levels is remarkable. And above everything, it inspires you to take the plunge without thinking twice. When I saw the film, I wanted to get out of the hall and start shooting a film immediately. The biggest achievement of this film is that it goes beyond the confines of being a documentary and touches you more than a big budget fiction based feature.

 Koormavathara

—–> Ranjib Mazumder on Koormavatara and Makkhi

Be it a random blogger or a certified critic, everyone is Noah on internet and takes no time to float the boat of top ten lists. Like the middle-class father comparing his kids among themselves or with other families, we always manage to make a list of ten best films every year, irrespective of their debatable qualities. I am no exception.

However, when I was asked to contribute for this collaborative piece after shutting the eyelids, a bald man appeared in front of my eyes, riding a fly. So, here I am, writing (only because I have been threatened with sarcasm) on two of the most remarkable Indian films of 2012.

Koormavatara

It starts late at MFF 2012. I am almost certain that I would leave it midway because Hansal Mehta’s Shahid is right after it and almost everyone from my group is going for it. The film opens, Godse shoots Gandhi and my doubts evaporated in no time. This is the world of an old man, disinclined to show emotions and engrossed only in his mundane office work and his little grandson. A Gandhi lookalike, when he is approached to play Gandhi in a TV show, he vehemently opposes but gives in due to the greedy family tentacles. Gandhi, like the fourth passenger in Mumbai locals, slowly invades his life, brings him down to the level of helpless co-passengers. Like a master of swift attack, Girish Kasaravalli breaks down the middle-class system and releases the Gandhi in him, leaving him in the midst of incessant disintegration of his surroundings. Rajkumar Hirani’s Munnabhai MBBS was a joy to behold, but Lage Raho Munnabhi, despite a splendid screenplay, offended the adult in me, with its preachy attitude. Without making him God, Koormavatara makes Gandhi accessible showing the mighty repercussions it can have in a typical family in independent India. As far as breaking down the myth of Mahatma, this is the best we have seen so far.

Makkhi

With scenes dipped in liquid cheese, a boy constantly stalks a girl with trite expressions; Makkhi was loathsome in the first 20 minutes. I wanted that boy to just die. Thankfully he did thanks to the overdramatic villain, soon after I wished. Little shaky special effects took charge. And I witnessed the most inventive revenge drama this year. A fly killing a mighty man is simply an impossible idea! But the way this little soldier choreographs his action scenes in the concrete fort of the villain, you can’t help but root for an insect that you have always detested. The triumph of S S Rajamouli’s film lies in the sheer leap of faith. We are yet to have our Jaws, but this is the one that comes closest to the idea of a fantastically executed concept film.

Kahaani2

—–> Pratim D. Gupta on Kahaani

Parineeta did the same thing for me in 2005. Celebrate Calcutta! And how. It reminded me of the way Mira Nair shot Delhi in Monsoon Wedding and Taj Mahal in The Namesake, almost pausing the narrative to just soak in the sensuality of the space. You sexy! Also what Sujoy Ghosh did brilliantly was inculcate his love for cinema in the many myriad moments of the movie in a way that they never became copie conformes but rambunctious references that served those respective scenes just fine. From Satyajit Ray to Salim-Javed to Bryan Singer. And those eyes of Bidya Balan when she looks up in the twist-revealing scene before unleashing her real self. Eyes filled with hurt, vengeance and rage…Our own Beatrice Kiddo? Present please!

Ship Of Theseus

—–> Svetlana Naudiyal on Ship Of Theseus

I don’t see all films that release in the year (and I am kind of unabashedly arrogant about it; can’t spend moneys contributing to someone’s 100 crores or out of sympathies to so called indie/different films), so my opinion from the very beginning of it, is skewed. The indie film movement (or whatever there is of it) took a whole new leap with PVR Director’s Rare creating a platform for their release. And even though in my personal opinion, indie films are becoming the cinema equivalent of DSLR carrying people with so & so photography facebook pages (read opinion as – ‘people should be banned, either from making films or from expecting people to watch’), there have been moments of pure delight at the movies in 2012 than years before that, much thanks to the few Indie films that released this year.

Some of the favourites this year are Supermen of Malegaon (one of the best, a documentary so delightful, hard hitting and yet nowhere remotely close to being poverty porn), Kshay (for Chhaya), Gattu (for finally bringing to the screen an unpolished, bratty, clever, naive and most importantly, real kid), Shanghai (for creating that discomfort that exists in our world and we do not see) , Anhey Ghorhey Da Daan (for creating a cinema experience like no other, for delving into time space and making the silences speak)

The most favorite of all that I managed to see in 2012 would be Ship of Theseus for its language, for its being able to be so unique, so evolved in thought and yet not have an iota of pretentiousness and be accessible to just anyone. For the benchmark it creates not just for indie filmmakers but Indian cinema, in general. I am dying to point out and quote every single nuance I loved, but that should be saved for the film’s release. For the smallest of elements it picks and for the whole it creates. For repeating itself like a poem long after you’ve seen it. This is Cinema!!

anhey ghorey da daan

—–> Mihir Pandya on  “अन्हें घोड़े दा दान” (पंजाबी), निर्देशक – गुरविंदर सिंह

एका – कदमों का, कराहों का, नांइसाफ़ियों का, नकार का। एका – दुख: का, संघर्ष का, सपनों का, समता का। वही इंसानी पैरों का जत्था जिसकी मूक कदमताल में पलटकर मेलू सिंह के पिता शामिल हो जाते हैं। किसी अभ्रक से चमकते इंसानी इरादों का जत्था, जिसका सीधा मुकाबला समाजसत्ता अौर राज्यसत्ता के मध्य हुए भ्रष्ट समझौते से तैयार हुई दुनाली दुरुभिसंधि से होना है। किसी ख़ास दिशा में सतत बढ़ते चले जा रहे वे कदम कोरी भीड़ भर नहीं, वे जनता हैं। एक अात्मचेतस समूह। निर्देशक गुरविंदर सिंह की ‘अन्हें घोड़े दा दान’ के इस विरल संवादों से बने विस्मयकारी दृश्य में, जिसके अन्त में सरपंच की दुनाली के सामने गाँव के दलित फ़कत लाठियाँ किए खड़े हैं, अाप सोचते हैं कि अाख़िर वो कौनसी अात्महंता चेतना है जिसने उन्हें वहाँ साथ अा खड़े होने का यह गर्वीला माद्दा दिया है?

बराबरी का सपना। समता का सपना। यह खुद अपने में पूरा मूल्य है। गैरबराबरी के अंधेरी सुरंग रूपी वर्तमान के अाख़िर में न्याय अौर समानता रूपी किसी उजले सिरे के होने का यूटोपियाई स्वप्न। बराबरी स्वयं ऐसा मूल्य है जिसके लिए लड़ा जा सकता है, जिसके लिए मरा जा सकता है। अौर जिस दिन एक दलित दूसरे के लिए खड़ा होता है, एक शोषित दूसरे शोषित के हक़ की अावाज़ का साझेदार बनता है, वह सदियों से जड़वत इस सत्ता व्यवस्था के लिए अंत का बिगुल है। यह दलित चेतना सबक है जानने का कि हमारी देश के भीतर की तमाम पुरानी संरचनाएं कहीं गहरे बदल रही हैं। यह शोषित की साझेदारी है। यह दुख का एका है। वो बस एक फ्रेम भर है ़फ़िल्म में। गाँव के सरपंच की दुनाली के सामने डटकर खड़े मेरी पिता की उमर के ये निहत्थे भूमिहीन किसान। लेकिन इस एक फ्रेम में अक्स है मणिपुर की उन तमाम माअों का जिन्होंने अपनी उस एक बेटी के लिए खुद को विद्रोह में उठे जिंदा माँस के झंडों में बदल लिया था। इनमें अक्स है सशस्त्र सेना का सामना पत्थरों से करने का दम रखने वाली उस नौजवान पीढ़ी का जिनकी ज़बान पर बस यही गूँजता रहा, “हम क्या चाहते… अाज़ादी”। इनमें अक्स है खंडवा मध्य प्रदेश के उन किसानों का जिनकी सामूहिक जल समाधि ने एक बहरी सरकार को भी सुनने अौर अपना फैसला बदलने पर मजबूर कर दिया। अौर इनमें मेरी ही उमर के उन दो नौजवान साथियों का भी अक्स है जो रविवार की उस रात उस बस में इंसानी जिस्म की हदों के पार जाकर भी अंत तक लड़ते रहे, एक-दूसरे के लिए। बराबरी के उस अप्राप्य दिखते स्वप्न के लिए जो सदा ‘फेंस के उधर’ रही इन अाँखों ने अब देख लिया है।

So this was our list. Do comment and share your movie memories/thoughts/opinions of this year.

BiggerLOGO

Light play, clever shooting angels, or whatever people might be waiting for, when Vishal Bhardwaj announces a film, there is a breed of people that waits for the music of his film because even if it is ‘7 Khoon maaf’-ish, the music album comes packed with a lot of ‘Gulzar Goodies’. Save for the mess that the music release of the film created, we really can’t complain much because as someone wise once remarked ‘If it’s worth the wait, then shut up!’

1. Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola – Sukhwinder…O Sukhwinder! You have done so much on the same lines already, yet you make it sound all so easy and peppy! Excellently arranged and marvellously penned, the song gives a lesson or two to some ill-fated idiots who think in order to sound catchy (and in order to use the name of the film in a song) they have to have an ‘item’ to endorse it. The splendid African weaving in between (with a continuous guitar note in the background) gives the song a certain amount of class that is always missing when it comes to halkat sheilas who are talking about munnis all the time. The bass effect that ‘stops and starts’ gives just the adequate thump to the song. 2 Thumbs up!

2. Khamakha – Beautiful ‘evening’ guitars, accompanied by a coral like backup group (with African lyrics?), excellent bass and, and, and Vishal Bhardwaj! Sung like a madly in love ‘aashiq’, this is easily one of the best arranged songs by Vishal ever. The simple yet never so beautifully expressed habits of those in love (sleeping by the window, for example) are a forte of Gulzarsaab. What amazes simple listeners like us is his ability to convey love every time in the simplest manner without EVER repeating words. Anyway, the end of the song, the last 1 minute and 14 seconds of the song, tell us why there is an ever-growing army of hopeless romantics who wait for a Vishal Bhardwaj music album. The song is pregnant with a range of varied emotions that haven’t been explored before. The note on which the song starts and the note on which ends will tell you exactly what we are talking about. 3 Thumbs up!

3. Oye Boy Charlie – ‘Singerwala Shankar Mahadevan’ starts the song and the song shoots higher thanks to Rekha Bhardwaj and Mohit Chauhan. There is a bit of saxophone and then there is a bit of nasal Shankar Mahadevan (that is just too good!) and then there is a good amount of ‘motorwala mouth organ’ in between along with good guitar. ‘Vishal purists’ might not like the song much because there is an element of cacophony in between, where you feel VB is trying too hard to arrest your attention by throwing in too many elements altogether. There are way too many elements that I missed in the first hearing. It is a fun song with an element of ‘Jhoom Barabar Jhoom’ and ‘Kajra re’ and ‘Satrangi re’ and some comedy and this and that!

4. Lootnewaley – Sukhwinder and Master Saleem start the song. If you play the song with the ‘Awara’ expectation from Master Saleem, you will be a tad disappointed. Sukhwinder emotes better than Saleem to convey the anger. The track is serious. The words are direct and effective. Clearly, a revolution is being hinted. At times chaotic (which may be intentional), the song won’t set music charts on fire. You might argue that any other set of singers could have done the same job as Sukhwinder or Master Saleem have done. The fantastic possibility that these two names promised is clearly missing. How we wish they were exploited better!

5. Sha ra ra – Prem Dehati starts the song again with the typical mela like music arrangement. The brass bands sing along with the singer to elevate the effect of the song. A very short track that begins and ends leaving the brass bands in your mind.

6. Badal Uthiya – The track starts beautifully with Prem Dehati echoing at a distance and then the music setting takes a completely contemporary turn with generous dose of sitar in between. Rekha Bhardwaj does a splendid job (What’s new?) with this track and even though the Prem Dehati version of the song is my favorite, this track can’t be sidelined at all. Rekha Bhardwaj in her typical ‘soul drugged with romance’ voice makes it very hummable.

7. Char dina ki – A Haryanvi kickass item that just elevates the level of the album and how! Excessive usage of brass bands and some real catchy lyrics ensure that it has a very roadside feel. The beginning of this track has shades of ‘chicha leather‘ from Gangs of Wasseypur. Pankaj Kapur, Prem Dehati and Imran Khan go behind the microphone for this and clearly Mr. Kapoor is having fun like only he can. Excellent track! (Mind it – ‘Char dina ki chamak chandni’ will linger in your head…shart laga lo tau!)

8. Chor Police – A fun recitation by Pankaj Kapur with heavy dose of political wrongdoings that the elected government has been committing. Ends with a splash! Back up vocals, brass band and excellent tempo ‘waali’ claps is what make this track up…good one!

9. Nomvula – African track it may be, but this composition has fun written all over it. If you aren’t one of the ‘I don’t understand the words so I won’t automatically like the song’, then you will like it. A very ‘by the beach with beers’ feel. Really what’s music got to do with language?

10. Badal uthiya (Reprise) – There are few good souls that are trying their best to give the masses a taste of the sheer variety that Hindustani classical offers. This song is an addition to that effort. Prem Dehati accompanied with excellent sitar and a contemporary music arrangement hold your soul hostage. The words, the pronunciation of the same, the stillness, the sadness, everything has traces of God particle in it. If you didn’t know, God particle is generally defined as a song/composition that has mastery of Gulzar saab and Vishal Bhardwaj in it.

11. Lootnewaaley (Reprise) – A strong vocal demonstration against the shrewd landlords, Sukhwinder leads the backup singers in what sounds like a ‘lagaan-like’ track, feel wise. Word rich and music light. The track is clearly banking a lot on the visuals. It isn’t musically as structured as the other version. Clearly a circumstantial song.

Including the recitations and other titbits is the new ‘in’ thing for Hindi film O.S.T these days. Strictly ‘song-wise’ speaking, Khamakha, Badal Uthiya (both versions but Prem Dehati version), title song and Oye Boy Charlie are the ones that will remain with us and that’s a lot of them! We missed the mandatory ‘Have Vishal, so Suresh Wadkar will sing’ song.

An album that benefits (like all of us!) with the presence of Gulzar saab and showcases the obvious abilities of Vishal Bhardwaj, the composer. Also, those having silly doubts on Gulzar saab (Ref: JTHJ) have gone missing and how! ख़ामाखा का doubt, वो भी अल्लाह पे? हट पगले!

Post by @Rohwit (who is currently देहाती.)

Murder 3true bloodjennifers body

OR

we are creating a new series in “How To Classify Movie Posters”

(source – ropeofsilicon. via @jahanbakshi)

Saif, Sriram - Agent Vinod

For many of us, Sriram Raghavan’s Agent Vinod was one of the most anticipated films of the year. After two thrill-pills – Ek Haseena Thi and Johnny Gaddar, we all were waiting for a hat-trick. But somehow it didn’t work out. And that leads us to a bigger question – how do you know what’s working and what’s not at the script stage. It’s quite a difficult task.

I had read the script first and then saw the film. And this (So what happened to Agent Vinod?) was the post that i wrote after watching the film. At that time many of you had tweeted and sent mails asking for the script of Agent Vinod. I didn’t have the permission then. Now, as we look back, and are compiling year-end posts, i thought it would be a nice idea to share the script with you all. And we must thank Sriram Raghavan for it who quickly agreed and gave a go-ahead to post it.

So here it is, read, share and have fun! It’s written by Sriram Raghavan and Arijit Biswas.

(PS – Don’t forget to check out Sriram’s footnotes in the script 😉

(PS1 – The script shared here is only for educational purpose and is completely non-commercial initiative.)

(PS2 – To check out other scripts that we have posted on the blog, click here for Vikramaditya Motwane’s Udaan script, click here for Anurag Kashyap’s Dev D script and click here for Dev Benegal’s Road, Movie script.)

Bejoy Nambiar is ready with his new film, David. Interestingly, this film is in both Hindi and Tamil, and strangely, there’s a mismatch in the number of Davids in the two versions; while the Hindi one has three, Tamil version has only two Davids.

The hindi one has Vikram, Tabu, Neil Nitin Mukesh, Vinay Virmani, Lara Dutta, Isha Sharvani and Monica Dogra in the lead. The Tamil version has almost the same cast but has Jeeva instead of Vinay and Neil.

First, the hindi trailer

And now, the Tamil Trailer

The trailers look very interesting. And though they don’t tell you much about the story but the visual montage looks powerful. What we saw in Shaitan, seems Nambiar is going to deliver more of it in this film – those slo-mo action sequences drenched in blood, rain and bullets. Also, the romantic portions bear a clear stamp of Ratnam-ish playfulness, and more so in the Tamil version.

And here are the two posters…

David Tamil Davivd Hindi

And the official synopsis (Hindi version)….

The story revolves around the lives of 3 Davids in 3 different parts of the world in 3 different eras.

1975 London- 30 year old David works for Iqbal Ghani, a dreaded Mafia don who controls the entire Asian community. He is a protege who is poised to take over the empire until a revelation which changes the course of his future.

1999 Mumbai- 19 year old David is a musician born into a family of devout Christians. A happy go lucky teenager who loses all semblance of his peaceful existence when his family gets dragged into a political issue.

2010 Goa – 40 year old David is a fisherman living in the small fishing village of Betul in Goa. He falls in love with the deaf and mute Roma- the only hitch is that she is engaged to be married to his best friend Peter in 10 days!

All 3 Davids are about to take a step which is going to change their lives forever.
3 LIVES, 3 DESTINIES, CONNECTED BY 1 NAME – ‘DAVID’.

And like everyone else, if you are still wondering about this 3 and 2 Davids, the director clarified about it to Anurag Kashyap on Twitter..

@ankash1009 the 3rd one (neil’s) didn’t fit into the tamil mileu. Would have had to re imagine it completely which was not feasible.

Dear Leander Paes, WHY?

Posted: December 14, 2012 by moifightclub in bollywood, film, first look, News, WTF
Tags: , ,

WTF is this? Can you please explain. Thanks.

talaash

SPOILER  ALERT

My blood group is C+ve. And i don’t mean the Hindi cuss word that starts with “C”. Because there’s no other explanation for me getting so restless about films and going to bed peacefully only after i have chased all the possible “sources” to know what the films (or its spoilers) are about. Blame it on occupational hazard, or maybe am in this occupation because of the same blood group. Also, because for me, films are more about “how they happen” and not “what happens”.

Nothing to boast about but i knew about the so called big twist of Talaash almost a year back. Though i had my doubts about it but everything related to the film was pointing in the same direction. And a year is a long time to make peace with the “ghostly” fact. As the release date of Talaash was near, i was travelling out of country. Curious that i am, got in touch with a friend who was watching the film much before anyone else. I asked him if he can let me know as soon as he is done with it. He saw it, liked it, and said, he is not going to tell me the spoilers. I told him, i am going to tell him what i know, and he just has to say yes or no. I asked him about the big twist. He said, yes, but how do you know? Well, the first rule is you never reveal your sources. Aha, much relief after waiting for a year. I quickly tweeted that yes, yes, yes, it’s the same twist that we knew since a year back. At least the C+ souls like me will get a good night’s sleep finally.

I saw the film almost a week after its release. And i have concluded that if you know the twist, the film works in a much better way. And there are many reasons for it. First, the pitch. The makers tried to keep the per-release campaign quite low-key because of the fear that the twist might get out due to over-exposure. Everything pointed out that it’s a thriller or suspense drama. The font of the print campaign started becoming bigger with the countdown – TRUTH will be out in 5…4…3….2…1 day. You can’t blame anyone when everyone saw the same story in the promotions – a cop chasing the death of a film star. He has to crack the case. So what is the TRUTH? The big twist? Now, if the baggage comes down to the fact that Kareena is a ghost who guides Aamir Khan’s character to crack the case, it seems straight out of @OMGFacts, or evn LOL-Facts. It’s easy to dismiss it when you have invested so much in the case which looks so real, and with such great mood that creates the world around it and builds the prefect pace. Ghost? That’s a joke, that’s so flimsy! The writers could not think of anything else?

Now, imagine if the film was pitched to you as “supernatural drama”. You are prepared for it and it’s much to easy to accept it that way. But i think the writers of the film did set up the track of Rani Mukerjee quite well to give you a hint in which direction the film was heading. It wasn’t like a pop-up music video. I can’t say with full confidence but i think i would have still liked it if i had no clue about the twist.

Show me a man who was shattered by the unnatural death of a loved one, and has made peace with it without doing anything unnatural. Shit happens, and then we find our ways to cope with it. I am an atheist but  i have seen/heard/experienced things which are difficult to explain and impossible to believe. They remain unanswered and life goes on till another death comes knocking.

Also, when you don’t know the twist, you are waiting for the big revelation in the end. The problem is the fashion in which we have been conditioned to watch films – the theory of “end me kya hota hai?” But Talaash is much more than that. And you can focus on the rest, which is so gorgeous, once the twist is out of your way. In fact, that’s not even the film. It’s about a couple coming to terms with the loss of their kid. Both take different routes to trace that piece of peace. The murder case is purely incidental. But the sad part is you won’t waste you weekend to watch a couple coming to terms with the death of their loved ones. Will you? You need coke, corn and crap on screen for your weekend outing. So most probably they decided to hook you with that “murder mystery” pitch. And i must admit that’s it gives me a kind of sadistic pleasure to know that you have been cheated.

And in a good way, it also reminded me of an all time favourtive film of mine – Umesh Kulkarni’s Vihir. Because love, loss, death, water, wandering souls, and peace – the motifs are the same here. If you still haven’t seen it, WATCH IT!

Without any doubt, Talaash is one of the best directed films of the year. Mohanan’s photography with Sampath’s music creates such a compelling mood. The tone is set as soon as the credit roll begins with those invisible faces and characters that bollywood doesn’t give a fuck about even though they are at every signal in this city. Rani Mukerjee, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Raj Kumar Yadav, Sheeba Chaddha, Aditi Vasudev and Subrat Datta – all of them are in top form here. You are hooked to it till the interval happens, and then Cinemax Versova killed the mood for me by playing commercials for at least 30minutes. Had to go out and shout at the manager to start the film post-interval.

Another criticism i have heard so far is that the film scratches the surface, and it doesn’t go any deep. Aha, i have always believed that it entirely depends on you – how you want to read the film. If you can’t scratch beyond the surface, don’t put the blame on the film and the filmmaker always. Instead click here and read the best piece on the film.

I might not be a fan of Aamir Khan but you have to appreciate the choices he makes. He believes in them and pulls it off. Compare it to the films of others A-list stars of Bollywood. What are they doing? What are the delivering? All the focus is on 100-crore these days. And when it’s so much easy to deliver that with cheap crap-corn-cola, why put so much effort and take a risk? Respect for that.

Also, am wondering if it’s high time to divide Excel’s films into Farhan Akhtar Films and Zoya Akhtar/Reema Kagti Films. Someone compared Kartik Calling Kartik to Talaash on twitter and said KCK was better. I tried hard to control my laughter. That film had much more baggage on its twist and it was a (chinese?) joke in the end. And, remember Game – their another venture in similar space? Don’t have words in my dictionary to describe that garbage. Not sure why, but i feel these films belong to Farhan Akhtar who has been on a downhill since his brilliant debut, Dil Chahta Hai. But the ladies are trying new things and pulling it off with so much ease – Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd, Luck By Chance, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara and now, Talaash. To quote another favourite dialogue of the year, Farhan Baba, tumse na hoga ab, rehne do. Bus acting hi kar lo.

(PS – Can we please nominate Aamir’s eyebrows for performance of the year? Though his moustache was vying hard for attention but my vote goes for the eyebrows.)

– Posted by @CilemaSnob

Ad film maker and FTII alumni Ravi Deshpande writes on Hansal Mehta’s Shahid and its journey so far. (Disclaimer – Hansal says he has been a guide and friend.)

“From reluctant jihadist to crusading lawyer, the life of Shahid Azmi was a remarkable one. Gunned down while defending accused Mumbai bomber Fahim Ansari, Azmi was transformed into an unlikely martyr. But Hansal Mehta’s new film is much more than a biopic; Shahid captures the zeitgeist of a generation.

Shahid’s story began in the slums of Govandi in eastern Mumbai amid violent riots between Hindus and Muslims. A young witness to injustice, Shahid fled his home to a jihadist camp deep in the mountains but, never a dedicated soldier, he deserted as a teenager and returned home — only to be imprisoned on terrorist charges. Tutored by older political prisoners, he resolves to fight injustice upon his release. Finding work in a law office, Shahid struggles against a system steeped in contradictions and hypocrisies, defending clients labelled “anti-nationalist,” “radicals” or “terrorists.”

Hansal Mehta’s Shahid is as much a testament to a remarkable life cut tragically short as it is a cathartic journey through a city filled it seems with equal measure grave injustice and great idealism.”

– Cameron Bailey, Artistic Director, Toronto International Film Festival.

Consider this : By the time he was gunned down, Shahid Azmi had at least 17 acquittals to his credit, a great benchmark for the small span of time he was an advocate.

So why am I writing about this film? Or rather, why am I compelled to write about the experience of this film? Because the film is as close to a real tale as I have seen. The real story of the film concluded with Shahid’s death but just 2 years ago. His strife is still fresh in our minds. It is a Mumbai tale that Mumbaites know. Difficult to satisfy a critical Mumbaite filmmaker’s mind with a Mumbai story.

In the film, the protagonist is a young lad from the FTII stable of actors, Rajkumar Yadav. Leave aside the fact that the bloke does not age through the 2 decades that the narrative unfolds. This fact does not bother me and has not bothered others while watching his stunning underplayed performance. All the other characters (Casting Director Mukesh Chabra) move through the fabric of the film story with finesse (Prableen Sandhu, Mohd Zeeshan Ayyub, Baljinder Kaur, Tigmanshu Dhulia, Kay Kay Menon, Vipin Sharma, Shalini Vatsa, Vinod Rawat, Suvinder Pal, Pawan Kumar, Vivek Ghamande, Paritosh Sand, Prabal Panjabi, Yusuf Husain)

Their mannerisms and expressions are palpable, the interactions are humanly common stance, and the scenes make me angry, make me cry, make my blood rush through my temples, and sometimes make me smile, even squirm with discomfort.

Hansal’s approach to acting as well as most things in the film has been organic in nature, and bereft of conventional method. Many scenes, even dialogues have often been reworked on location. It is a dangerous terrain for a Director to operate because an actor can easily bend a scene in a fashion that could alter the earlier intent. Hansal chose a difficult route to extract from artists what they felt was the most honest delivery. So in the court scene, when the judge too becomes argumentative with the advocates and the accused, the theatre split into laughter, or when the naked Shahid is tortured in the Lodhi Police Station Cell, the viewer in the next seat clenched his fists.

There are other reasons too why this impact is astounding. The Cell is lit by a single tube, and does not light up the protagonist in agony.

 

Consider this: The DOP (Anuj Dhawan) saw the location (A friend’s godown in Andheri) and said, “Perfect! Lets shoot!” And Hansal as a Director had the balls to do exactly that. Hence the spaces become volumes that the viewer can relate to and inhabit.

Consider this: Shahid’s house in the film is Shahid’s own house, and Shahid’s office in the film where he was shot dead, is in actuality Shahid’s office. A year after his murder, when they were shooting in her house, Shahid’s real mother asked to meet the actor. She just wanted to see him…for her, Shahid was still a part of her ‘present continuous’. Her other son, Khalid Azmi (Played by Vaibhav) has gone on record to say that the film is 95% close to the real story.

So Hansal’s choices, or democratically speaking the crew’s and the cast’s choices were nakedly honest. Hansal was able to guide them through to keep the story of Shahid alive and true. It is one thing to say, fine, I do not care that the actor’s face is not lit up in a scene, and yet another to accept that different digital cameras will land on the shoot on a regular basis.

Consider this: They get a RED MX camera one day, a Red One on another and the next day an Alexa. On some days all they had was a Canon 5D. Hansal and his DOP (Anuj Dhawan) have the guts and gumption to mount it and shoot, to make the most of the time available with the given location and the cast on roll call. What a nightmare for the DI artist and the post-production technical crew.

It looks like a film about the Muslims, for the Muslims, by the Muslims. However, there is not a single crewmember except the artist Arif and the Professor (Played by Mohd. Zeeshan Ayyub and Yusuf Husain respectively) who are muslims. Not the protagonist, neither the director, nor any of the artists, nor even the writers. And the film is about the plight of the Muslims in India. Or perhaps anywhere and everywhere in the world. Simple folk who are pious, righteous, and who wean through the hard struggle of life. Muslims who are wronged for the only reason – that they are Muslims.

And yet, the story could be of any community, as one never becomes conscious of the ‘religion’ in the story but is sensitized only to the situation and the events. Go see any other film about the Muslim community made with adequate or handsome funds and compare – which is the more engaging, which is more honest, which is the tougher film to make, which is bringing a truer story for the audience’s appetite in today’s time of the RTI, which has more layers, which sets you thinking, which churns your bowels, which makes you feel guilty, helpless, angry, which is the one not biased, which is the one that makes you more aware, more empowered, which is the one non-exploitative?

So there is no definite genre that the story can be pinned by. It is neither a courtroom dram, although the crucial scenes are set in courts, neither is it a romantic tragedy, although Shahid’s supportive wife leaves him and then he dies, nor is it a martyr heroic film, although Shahid ends his life as a martyr for a cause. In fact, it is all this and more, because Hansal does not steer it to a dramatic fictional tale but insists steadfastly to narrate the story of an individual with all the truisms intact.

Consider this: Shahid was supposed to be a well-funded film by a corporate production house with a star in place. Hansal and Sunil Bohra (Producer) chose the other route lest the shenanigans of the star system or the numbers game shackle them. And they embraced the hardship with a tougher stance of honesty to make a moving, compassionate film.

For any Director to touch and mould his material with a humanitarian approach is one of the most difficult directing tasks. Hansal has not just immersed himself with the material but internalized it, forgotten his leanings, left aside the grammar of filmmaking that he learnt through his earlier seven feature films, as well as rid himself of easy shooting or post production solutions.

Consider this: The editor Apurva Asrani also co-wrote the film. The earlier decision was to make a non-linear narrative as the world over, the traditional linear narrative is considered to be passé and not smart enough for today’s times. Apu is also known for drastic usage of NGs (No-good takes), jump cutting, and edgy editing styles. With the material in front of them, they both opted to be dumb but true to the material and formed a linear narrative! Apu’s edit does not leap out of the screen at you but lets you immerse yourself in the development of the story unhindered.

Consider this: A veteran artist has reservations because her role seems to be just 3 pages in the courtroom. So she decides nearly 8 hours before the shoot to decline. She has doubted the director because he has said that we will improvise the scene and the dialogues as we shoot. But that is the organic way that Hansal wanted to make the film by involving everyone concerned with the scenes.

Consider this: When the village in the hills threw up extras that were Hindus, the lead actor Raj Kumar Yadav had to train them stepwise (12 steps) on how to do Namaaz. The Director read numbers in order to get shots with movements in cohesion from the group. The sound recordist had but just one assistant for the schedule. That is brave for a film with live sound (Sound Recordist: Mandar Kulkarni).

Although the temptation to turn voyeuristic is huge, Hansal’s camera does not try to barge close to the man who is in flames in the riot filled streets of 1993 Mumbai to sensationalize it, nor does it travel from sunset silhouettes to a frontal of the twosome’s faces up North in POK as they share a happy repartee moment, nor does it underline the most significant moment of Shahid’s assassination in the office with a close up or a long shot. Hansal and the DOP refrain from the usual temptations of over dramatizing the situation. The screenplay (Sameer Gautam Singh and Apurva Asrani), the Mise en scène, the acting, and the editing too blends the subtle manner of telling, aided by a music track that does not interfere with the realism. During the depiction of the love story, the dialogues are as matter of fact as can be, and so are the situations.

Hansal’s ingenious shot division helps us see to events in a seamless fashion. This Spartan style of filmmaking lends way to a new language that is close to real life, and not the crafted, arranged carefully kind of a story, spoon fed by loud, crass everything-to-be-said-through-dialogue and underlined by music. The proximity to the material increases manifold and the viewer relates to the unfolding of the story in a much more integral, much more organic manner. No wonder that audiences in Canada (At the Toronto Film Festival) and at the MAMI waited in long ques due to ‘word of mouth’ to see the film. And no wonder that Hansal has had standing ovations at both places.

Consider this: While Music was being discussed for the film, the sound Engineer was asked what ought to be the music. “Sparse, minimal, hardly there types”, he said. His diktat was followed. (Music: Karan Kulkarni)

Hansal’s directorial abilities were never questioned, and infact lauded several times (Dil Pe Mat le Yaar, Chhal, Jayate, etc.) Nor were his sensibilities (it was his own decision to stay away in ‘Wanvas’ at Lonawala for so many years). He meandered just about everywhere in the Mumbai Bollywood terrain of storytelling. This film has cemented his road. Hansal has to start walking on this path which will lead him to greater heights and us as viewers to greater experiences that he will invoke as a refined old-wine director.

I just hope that the film sees the light of the day and does not but just roam the festivals of discerning viewers across the globe. And hoping against hope that the authorities and political parties do not intervene with their typical horse blinds on release or before.

 

Consider this: Hansal and Sunil Bohra (Producer) have refrained from censoring the film and releasing it because they want audiences to see the film in this form; the more the better – wonder what will transpire at the censor board.

It is a significant film of our times about our times. There, I have said it.

(It was first posted on Ravi Deshpande’s blog here)

Going by ReviewGang‘s calculation, the average rating for Sachin Kundalkar’s Aiyyaa is a poor 4.5/10. But almost every reviewer mentioned it that Kundalkar explored many interesting things in the film which never came together. Also, everyone felt that it was too long. On twitter, the most common word used to describe the film was “bizzare”. That made me more curious to find out how “Gandha” became such a wakdaa. I still haven’t seen the film but surprisingly got a post in my inbox which was on similar lines. So over to Shvetal Vyas-Pare and her take on the film and its Marathi original Gandha.

– @cilemasnob

Aiyyaa is a difficult film to like. It can be easily dismissed as having no plot, dragging out one idea for too long and then jumping into a quick conclusion. The tone does not help either – it is neither entirely realistic nor entirely parodied. The actors seem to constantly shifting from subtle to over-the-top, which makes them irritating – both as characters and as actors. However, I’ve been thinking about the film. It hasn’t grown on me, nor will I claim that it is actually a wonderful film that has been misunderstood. I want to use this blog post to think through certain things that I found interesting about the film, and about my reactions to it.

The premise of any story can be outrageous, and it is up to individual viewers whether the story resonates with them or not. Logically, it is absurd to suppose that a wife would not know her husband in a different get-up (Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi) or that a man could pass off a concentration camp as a massive game (Life is Beautiful). I’ve heard people tear the former apart while waxing eloquent about the latter. I’m sure there are also people out there who love Rab Ne… and don’t mind its logical inconsistency. I’m not saying that the two films are at par with each other. The point I am trying to make is that both films accept seemingly outrageous premises as givens and go ahead with their narratives. As I strongly feel that films/books should be allowed to tell the stories they want to rather than those that seem more logical or natural to any individual viewer/reader, an outrageous premise rarely bothers me.

Aiyyaa too has a premise that seems illogical, that of a woman who is attracted to the way a man smells. Come to think of it, smell is difficult to convey on film. You have to rely on familiarity and on audience experience. Like all human experiences, smell is subjective. It is difficult to explain the power of the smell of the mud after the first rains in India to someone who’s never smelt it. It is easier to make films about colour, about touch, about sensation and Aiyyaa too brings in colours – yellow for Rani and blue for Prithvi – and uses them to play around with notions of smell. Perhaps they thought that colours would make smells more tangible. Aiyyaa also reminds one of the odour that one so completely takes for granted in India, showing public toilets and garbage lying open on the streets. Who in India has not scrunched one’s nose, and then passed on?

The other major motif of the film, intertwined with smell, is desire. Meenakshi desires Surya, and is somehow convinced that he is not the monster that everyone else thinks him to be. There is no logical reason behind this belief, and part of the disconnect you feel with her character is because of how illogical her behaviour is. Yet it is good to see the woman rather than the man as the desiring subject in Bollywood cinema, though of late this has become more common. Dreamum Wakeupum (and Ijjajat papad!) are pure genius on the part of Amitabh Bhattacharya. All those thrusting, pumping, heaving dance steps in all those Hindi films over the ages – they were all metaphorically sexual, and this song dispenses with the metaphor.

Another major problem area in the film is the ‘falling in love’ narrative. Meenakshi tries to speak to Surya often, but never actually gets to do so. Until one miraculous evening, wherein they talk, the mystery about him is solved, they confess their feelings, and get engaged to one another, all in the space of one evening. This is again something that induces impatience – how illogical can you get? Behind this impatience however is the assumption that other things that are shown in more realistic narratives are more ‘natural’, whereas they just have become more sedimented in our minds as ways of being in love, ways of performing romance.

Aiyyaa juxtaposes desire, as represented through smell, and the stifling nature of social life in India, as indicated through the odour of the garbage that haunts Meenakshi even in her dreams. The film finds some subtle moments here and there – walking around the clean, rose-garden terrace of a man whom Meenakshi does not find attractive does nothing for her. This garden of red roses must presumably smell great, and brings in notions of conventional romance, but she is entranced neither by the smell nor the appearance of this ideal space because this is not the man for her.

The Marathi original, Gandha, is actually a combination of 3 different stories, each dealing with the motif of smell, and the story that goes on to become Aiyyaa is crisper, told in half an hour. To stretch out the narrative, Aiyyaa adds a younger brother and a rival suitor to the mix, as well as making the boy Tamilian and putting Meenakshi through the task of learning a new language and a different culture. Not just that, the friend of the heroine becomes more bizarre.As ideas, all of them are interesting, though some translate well and some not so well.

Gandha is not as quirky as Aiyyaa and captures its particular Marathi milieu well. In many ways, it is less imaginative than Aiyyaa, perhaps because it is under less pressure in terms of time, and so is more straightforward in its storytelling. Amruta Subhash does an excellent job of conveying the vulnerability as well as the charm of the protagonist. Rani Mukherjee does a good job, but it is easier to understand and relate to Veena in Gandha than to Meenakshi in Aiyyaa.

What seems a small change in the script from the Marathi to the Hindi version brings to light one of the biggest silences of Bollywood cinema. In both versions, the hero is a painter by day and works at an incense factory by night. However, in the Marathi version he had done a diploma in repairing refrigerators and works at the factory to make money and pay for his art education. In the Hindi version the hero is the owner of the factory, left to him by his father, and works alongside his employees. A Bollywood hero cannot be a simple employee, he has to at least own the factory. After all, how could he think about romance otherwise? As if those who repair refrigerators do not have love stories of their own.

Ultimately, my reaction to Aiyyaa is as much about my expectations as about the film itself. I like films to stick to tones and genres. The realistic feel of a college library – the old computers, the library membership cards, the dust on the books – was good. The presence of an overtly sexualised librarian, however, was jarring – such a person would never exist in such a space. But do films have to necessarily be either realistic, or fantasy as accepted by Bollywood convention (i.e. either melodrama or a fantasy of excess, a la Karan Johar or Salman Khan), or totally bizarre? Can a film not be a little bit of each?

The attempt to make a film that is a little bit of each is jarring, but I think that it is a brave attempt. It would not have been that difficult to make Aiyyaa a bit more like Vicky Donor and English Vinglish: emphasise the Marathi – Tamil aspects of both families, show them as more lovable and less quirky, remove the bizarre, give the hero-heroine more conversations, show the heroine as the underdog who finally convinces her family that she has the right to choose her own life partner and so on. I do not think Anurag Kashyap and co. are stupid enough to have not thought of this alternative, safer option. It would have been an easier option to sell too, and that is often a big criterion that drives the way films get made. While I do not quite like the final product thatAiyyaa is, I do admire the fact that they made it their way – bizarre, quirky and idiosyncratic.

(PS – You can watch Gandha with English subtitles here)

(PS – A different version of the write-up was first posted on Shvetal Vyas-Pare’s blog)

The first trailer of Vishal Bhardwaj’s new film Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola is out. The film stars Imran Khan, Anushka Sharma, Pankaj Kapoor and Shabana Azmi.

Now, this looks like Entertainment, Entertianment, Entertainment. (Ok, blame that overdose on Vidya Balan) It surely looks like great fun – mad characters, rustic setting, colourful elements and dhinchak music.

But what is it about? It says almost nothing.

If it’s a Vishal Bhardwaj, it just can’t be boy-meets-girl, right? Some of us have read the script and the same two words comes to mind again – great fun. Only issue is the hotchpotch climax.

We can also tell you that there is a serious political issue in it but the trailer has masked it completely. Because they want your bums on the seats in the first weekend itself.

So see the trailer again. And see if can you connect the dots and guess the basic plot.