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    Reviews

    “A cerebral joyride”
    Karan Johar, filmmaker on REDIFF

    “Among the most charming and creative Indian independent films”
    J Hurtado, TWITCH

    ★★★★✩
    “You don’t really need a big star cast… you don’t even need a big budget to get the techniques of filmmaking bang on…”
    Allen O Brien, TIMES OF INDIA

    ★★★★✩
    “An outstanding experience that doesn’t come by too often out of Indian cinema!”
    Shakti Salgaokar, DNA

    ★★★
    “This film can reach out the young, urban, upwardly mobile, but lonely, disconnected souls living anywhere in the world, not just India.”
    Namrata Joshi, OUTLOOK

    “I was blown away!”
    Aseem Chhabra, MUMBAI MIRROR

    “Good Night Good Morning is brilliant!”
    Rohit Vats, IBN-LIVE

    ★★★✩✩
    “Watch it because it’s a smart film.”
    Shubha Shetty Saha, MIDDAY

    ★★★✩✩
    “A small gem of a movie.”
    Sonia Chopra, SIFY

    ★★★✩✩
    “A charming flirtation to watch.”
    Shalini Langer, INDIAN EXPRESS

    “Interesting, intelligent & innovative”
    Pragya Tiwari, TEHELKA

    “Beyond good. Original, engrossing and entertaining”
    Roshni Mulchandani, BOLLYSPICE

    * * * * *
    Synopsis

    ‘Good Night Good Morning’ is a black and white, split-screen, conversation film about two strangers sharing an all-night phone call on New Year's night.

    Writer-Director Sudhish Kamath attempts to discover good old-fashioned romance in a technology-driven mobile world as the boy Turiya, driving from New York to Philadelphia with buddies, calls the enigmatic girl staying alone in her hotel room, after a brief encounter at the bar earlier in the night.

    The boy has his baggage of an eight-year-old failed relationship and the girl has her own demons to fight. Scarred by unpleasant memories, she prefers to travel on New Year's Eve.

    Anonymity could be comforting and such a situation could lead to an almost romance as two strangers go through the eight stages of a relationship – The Icebreaker, The Honeymoon, The Reality Check, The Break-up, The Patch-up, The Confiding, The Great Friendship, The Killing Confusion - all over one phone conversation.

    As they get closer to each other over the phone, they find themselves miles apart geographically when the film ends and it is time for her to board her flight. Will they just let it be a night they would cherish for the rest of their lives or do they want more?

    Good Night | Good Morning, starring Manu Narayan (Bombay Dreams, The Love Guru, Quarter Life Crisis) and Seema Rahmani (Loins of Punjab, Sins and Missed Call) also features New York based theatre actor Vasanth Santosham (Bhopal: A Prayer for Rain), screenwriter and film critic Raja Sen and adman Abhishek D Shah.

    Shot in black and white as a tribute to the era of talkies of the fifties, the film set to a jazzy score by musicians from UK (Jazz composer Ray Guntrip and singer Tina May collaborated for the song ‘Out of the Blue), the US (Manu Narayan and his creative partner Radovan scored two songs for the film – All That’s Beautiful Must Die and Fire while Gregory Generet provided his versions of two popular jazz standards – Once You’ve Been In Love and Moon Dance) and India (Sudeep and Jerry came up with a new live version of Strangers in the Night) was met with rave reviews from leading film critics.

    The film was released under the PVR Director’s Rare banner on January 20, 2012.

    Festivals & Screenings

    Mumbai Film Festival (MAMI), Mumbai 2010 World Premiere
    South Asian Intl Film Festival, New York, 2010 Intl Premiere
    Goa Film Alliance-IFFI, Goa, 2010 Spl Screening
    Chennai Intl Film Festival, Chennai, 2010 Official Selection
    Habitat Film Festival, New Delhi, 2011 Official Selection
    Transilvania Intl Film Festival, Cluj, 2011 Official Selection, 3.97/5 Audience Barometer
    International Film Festival, Delhi, 2011 Official Selection
    Noordelijk Film Festival, Netherlands, 2011 Official Selection, 7.11/10 Audience Barometer
    Mumbai Film Mart, Mumbai 2011, Market Screening
    Film Bazaar, IFFI-Goa, 2011, Market Screening
    Saarang Film Festival, IIT-Madras, 2012, Official Selection, 7.7/10 Audience Barometer

    Theatrical Release, January 20, 2012 through PVR

    Mumbai
    Delhi
    Gurgaon
    Ahmedabad
    Bangalore
    Chennai
    Hyderabad (January 27)

    * * * * *

    More information: IMDB | Facebook | Youtube | Wikipedia | Website

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Posts By sudhishkamath

Bol: Brave voice from Pakistan

September 4, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Shoaib Mansoor

Cast: Humaima Malik, Mahira Khan, Iman Ali, Atif Aslam

Storyline: A girl about to be hanged tells her story and of Pakistan’s population woes

Bottomline: World cinema corrupted by Bollywood

When you watch films like Majid Majidi’s Baran (Iranian) or Siddiq Barmak’s Osama (Persian), you get a haunting picture of how things work behind the veil in the Islamic world. It’s one of those bitter pills that hit you at the gut, so grim and with very little hope.

And then, in complete contrast is Hindi cinema’s take on the arthouse – the multiplex movie which still wants to end on a positive note and because films without any feel good rarely find takers at the box office. Maybe it’s also the effect of mainstream Bollywood on the arthouse that films end with hope.

Shoaib Mansoor’s new film (he had earlier made the critically acclaimed Khuda Kay Liye) takes us into the household of a hakim’s family in Lahore to give us a hard-hitting film on the state of affairs, treatment of women and transgenders in Pakistan but the impact of this punch is rather watered down because of its Hindi cinema influences – the need to end with feel good.

So we have the film begins quite dramatically with a woman facing death sentence, granted permission to call for a press conference – straight from the very spot she’s about to be hanged. Once you suspend your disbelief and ignore the filmy acting by its leading lady Humaima Malik in these opening portions, the film comes into its own in the flashback.

Considering that what the film wants to say is in the flashback and that it does it so effectively without holding back any punches, the very setting for the story to unfold seems unwarranted.

The narrator of the film was among the seven sisters born to an orthodox Hakim in Lahore on the brink of poverty with the advent of private clinics. After repeated efforts to yield a boy, the eighth attempt results in the birth of a transgender much to the frustration of the father, whose initial instincts are to kill the baby.

It’s a fantastic premise for the story to unfold as the family spirals further down into poverty, the father unwilling to let any of the girls work or step out of the house. It’s quite commendable how the filmmaker Shoaib Mansoor has managed to bring out the hypocrisy of the patriarch and his convenient interpretation of the Koran to justify everything he does. The laughs in this otherwise serious film come our way as his hypocrisy is further exposed when he’s asked to produce a girl child for a courtesan Meena (Iman Ali plays a Pakeezah fan) to pull himself out of financial trouble. Now this is a man so staunch in his beliefs and value systems that he threw a fit when his daughters playfully told him that they had crushes on Tendulkar and Afridi.

There’s surely a gem of a film somewhere in there in between of all that Hindi cinema packaging, one that’s so bleak and yet offers a little hope through its Atif Aslam-Mahir Khan romance track.  Given the entire gamut of issues relating to gender, religion and social norms, it is tragic that the filmmaker ends the film choosing to spell out just one moral, the least interesting of them. “Why make babies if you can’t raise them?”

Bol has a lot more that’s interesting to say and show us than that issue. Despite its failings (in its the first five minutes and the last five), it’s a brave voice from Pakistan that deserves to be heard. Surely the pick of the week among the Hindi releases.

(This review originally appeared here.)

Bodyguard: Another showcase for Sallu’s body

September 4, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Siddique

Cast: Salman Khan, Kareena Kapoor, Raj Babbar, Rajat Rawail, Hazel Keech

Storyline: A bodyguard falls in love with a mysterious caller over the phone

Bottomline: Salman makes this tighter remake work

Salman Khan has clearly figured a way out to play it safe at the box office. Take films that have done really well from the South and then Salman-ise them with elements that fans expect from his films.

Though the original film (Bodyguard in Malayalam, Kavalan in Tamil) was a sappy, long-winded drama that relied solely on the twist at the end to deliver, here the twist is just an excuse to wrap up another full-blown Sallu showcase.

Like Salman really needed an excuse to take of his shirt and shift the attention from script to his body, this film gives him enough reason to go flex his muscles. So, right from the moment he’s introduced when he’s doing the muscle-dance, flaunting his biceps, he’s doing what he does best – the gym routine.

He’s walks around like the Hulk, fights bad guys and sends them flying and bullets never seem to find him, even if his frame occupies two thirds of the screen. Sallu is Lovely Singh, a bodyguard assigned to protect Divya (Kareena Kapoor) who prank calls him from an unidentified number, the series of phone calls leading to an unlikely old-fashioned romance where Lovely does not care what she looks like because love does not stem from the eyes, it stems from the heart.

If a playing a Bodyguard does not let him do all that he does in other films anyway, what will? There’s a scene where he slips into uniform that’s loose and works out just to fit into it. That says everything you need to know about the film. It isn’t a tailor-made role for Salman. It’s Salman filling out an already designed loose shirt with his muscle.

The writers haven’t been able to write many punch-lines this time? Does not matter. Salman will manage saying the same line three times in the film. “Do me a favour. Do me no favour.” Never mind if it makes him sound indecisive. But surprisingly, Salman is quite subdued this time and he also gets to put his acting muscle to use when he has to act all soft and sincere.

The laughs are entrusted to debutant Rajat Rawail who brings the house down with physical comedy, his huge frame and flabby torso in drag responsible for most of the laughs while Raj Babbar performs with the gusto of an eighties villain in a role that would have ideally preferred Amrish Puri.

It’s the Salman version of a Karan Johar film of the nineties that is bound to be compared with the sappiness of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, given the drama at the end and another few-year-old almost saying “Tussi Mat Jao,” a cue for the ladies in the hall to weep silently.

Kareena puts in an effortless performance (her sister Karishma has dubbed for the phone call portions of the film for her) and looks absolutely ravishing in the ‘Teri Meri’ song placed before the climax. If the film works even somewhat, it is because of the presence the leads command. Kareena and Salman raise the game to a different level and this remake is probably the best this script can be.

So please, Siddique. Don’t make this again in another language. We have endured enough already.

(This review originally appeared here)

Mankatha: Ajith plays his cards right, finally

September 1, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Ajith’s character does not exist in the film. That’s the ending.

He’s a figment of Vaibhav’s imagination. The Keyser Soze. The dangerous diabolic villain Vaibhav ‘Verbal Kint’ makes up as he comes up with a story he makes up in the interrogation room from plot points he remembers in Tamil films.

First Vaibhav creates a Nayakan character. A Dharavi don, we don’t know if he’s Nallavara Kaettavara (good or bad?).

Then he makes the Nayakan Don marry him off to the girl he loves like Mammootty does for Rajnikant in Thalapathy.

They plan a heist involving a geek hacking into the traffic light system of the city, like in the Italian Job. And there’s Ajith sporting his natural greys like Clooney in Oceans.

There’s a hint that he’s making up stories from Tamil films he watches because there’s a Kamal Haasan poster in his room and he’s sporting the same beard as Kamal. In a Trisha-Ajith song, there’s a song from Kireedam playing on the TV behind.

Vaibhav makes up this story about an imaginary character called Vinayakam played by Ajith and walks away into the sunset with “500 crores. Ainooru Kodi. Money. Money. Money. Money.”

Mankatha da!

Gotcha suckers! Was kidding. I made up that ending, to mess with those who are reading reviews before watching the film. “My f***ing game”.

On a serious note though… The pop culture nods/references are so many that you think you’ve cracked it but Venkat Prabhu keeps messing with your head, the references just used to tease and nothing more. Just as you think it’s going the Ocean’s way, it’s not. You think it’s going the Italian Job way, it’s not. You think it’s going the Usual Suspects way, it’s not. You think it’s going the Reservoir Dogs way, it’s not. It’s a fairly original film, even if long-winded and a tad conveniently slapped with a twist ending.

Personally, I would have liked one of the other boys in the film to emerge as the hero in the end but I guess mainstream Tamil cinema is not ready for that yet.

After Aaranya Kaandam, Mankatha is one of those rare Tamil noir films. Neo-noir, like the Thiagarajan Kumararaja film, with all its pop culture tributes, plot derivatives and spins on film noir narratives.

If at all you hear the film is ripped off from such and such film, it’s because whoever told you that has probably seen only that one film in that genre.

Noir is not just treatment, noir is a genre with a clearly identifiable template and recurring themes – evil dominates, almost every character is grey or black hungry for money and could kill for it, the deadly femme fatale, allies turning against each other, betrays, greed… you get the idea, a complete exploration of all that has to do with the dark side of human nature.

Calling it a noir film does not automatically become a compliment just like calling a chick flick a chick flick does not by default make it a good film.

I won’t get into the plot details (though it is pretty much what is expected from the genre template) but hats off to the director to take the genre that typically explores the dark side of man and turn it into a completely light-hearted mass entertainer. I can think of wickedly delicious and dark crime comedies that employ the noir template but it’s one of the first films (Farhan Akhtar’s Don did this too) that takes something that is primarily dark (and hence restrictive in reach by genre) and turns it into a celebration of the morally bankrupt by a mainstream hero worshipped by millions without failing to glorify its “hero” who is in reality the scum of all scums.

As the opening titles roll out, Venkat Prabhu gives you the first hint – Mankatha – Strictly No Rules. There are no rules for this “hero”. He drinks to the point of total memory loss, he cheats on his girlfriend, manipulates friends for his own gain and wouldn’t think twice about killing anyone. Yet, he’s still the Thala – that stupid sobriquet that blurs the line between the star’s real life persona and the character he plays in films. I hope he uses his head and drops that Thala baggage at the earliest.

Stars play the same role again and again in all movies (MGR, Rajni, Vijay, Ajith) because people pay to watch them do the same things while actors do different roles again and again (Sivaji, Kamal, Vikram, Suriya, Dhanush) because people pay to watch them do different things.

In recent times, we have had some stars preferring to do actor roles (Vijay with Kavalan, for eg. or Rajni with Enthiran) and some actors preferring to do star roles (Suriya in Aadhavan or Singham or Vikram in Kanthasamy) and that’s where our problems begin because here we have this blind idiocy of hero-worshipping the guy who can beat up people on screen.

He maybe bald, he may have a paunch or a triple chin or be as tall as a midget in real life, does not matter. As long he has a sobriquet (Ilaya Thalapathy or Thala or Little Super Star or Captain) and fan clubs, there will be idiots around who will pay to watch them do the shittiest movies in history of Tamil cinema and also have the nerve to defend them.

Which is why I respect Suriya, Dhanush and even Vikram (his Chiyaan is just based on a character he became popular for), unlike this Worship-Me-I-Am-Your-Leader self-styled sobriquets… Thala or Thalapathy, that flaunt their ambitions of being the Thalaivar (leader). There is no doubting that Ajith can act, so can Vijay. Like all actors do, why don’t they just do their jobs instead of being on this narcissistic trip of being worshipped by fans?

So I would be the first to applaud Ajith for taking a step in the right direction and playing an actor who essays a role that’s usually used to describe the villain.

Which brings us to the problem area, that in the context of our cinema for the masses, fans are so blind and loyal that they actually think that by virtue of the hero doing certain things considered inappropriate, it becomes acceptable and legitimate to do that.

Now, I watched this film with hardcore fans of Ajith on the first day. So it was disturbing that they seemed to applaud the fact that he would drink to the extent of memory loss every night. Like he just echoed their thoughts. I heard some of the most obscene, sexually frustrated comments every time Lakshmi Rai or Andrea made an appearance and I am really wondering if the time is still right for us to make a film where the hero can play evil, not grey… completely and absolutely evil, with no redeeming feature. Almost.

Spoiler alert (Highlight to read): If he is that unabashedly evil given the number of people he kills in the film, would he need the friend or ally when he could technically keep all the 500 crores to himself, instead of splitting it? Why not kill the friend as the last ultimate move of villainy? But no, this is commercial movie. There has to be some good to make Thala likeable. With this ending generating feel good, Mankatha becomes a complete celebration of greed just like how fantasy films celebrate the good. 

The morals are a little unsettling in the Indian context of drunk fans and blind hero worship, at least given the bunch of people I shared the hall with. The last thing we want is drunk folk going around calling women “thevidiya mundais”.

To Venkat Prabhu’s credit, he uses quite a few alienation techniques to remind us that this is all just a story not to be taken seriously… there’s green blood to make it more children friendly, the jokes are of the nature of your best friend spoofing cult movie moments, the stunts are unbelievably larger than life and the really bad visual effects like glass shattering ensure that you always know that it just campy, cartoonish pulp fiction that you are watching, especially with Premgi’s presence (I found his quips to be the best part of the film) and Mahat. Good to see Action King Arjun and Laxmi Rai given something to play with but not enough but the rest of the cast, including Trisha, Andrea, Anjali, only get extended cameos. It’s quite nice that Venkat Prabhu is creating these small heroes who can support the smaller filmmakers – In addition to Shiva, Jai, Vaibhav, Premgi, Sampath, Arvind Akash, now add Mahat & Ashwin to that list.  The biggest bonus is the goof reel at the very end that assures kids that it’s just a bunch of friends having fun making a film, playing a game rather, and that who dies and who does not is immaterial because it was just a story to be forgotten instantly.

Mankatha is just that. It is forgettable but fun while it lasts. But it lasts too long. Ajith is given ample scope to perform and play a badass and this is probably the best role he has done in a while (considering Billa didn’t involve acting, it just needed him to show up to work and walk, Vishnu even keeping dialogues minimal). It’s refreshing really to see this side of Ajith. Make sure you stay till the end credits to see him have a blast on the sets, enjoying himself. As an actor mature enough to play his age or take digs at his own paunch, Ajith is evolving into a down to earth, likeable actor.

Venkat Prabhu does not seem to have the heart to cut anything out of his though quite a bit of it is indulgence as expected from a mass film made for fans on the occasion of the 50th film. He also has no heart to cut out the rest of the ensemble and makes sure he gives them all a song each at least and quite a bit of importance than you would usually not find in a solo hero film.  The result is a long film with which songs feels even longer though Yuvan does rock the score, the violin bit with slow motion action choreography being one of the best parts of the film.

Though it’s more thought out than most heist films made, the convenience with which everything is tied together in the end is a little disappointing. It’s as if the masses wouldn’t understand if it were any more complicated.

In the end, we have a film that looks more smarter than what it really is. Venkat Prabhu wins the guessing game (though you may guess the ending from a throwaway scene earlier on in the film) not by outwitting you playing by the rules but by cheating. Sorry, bongu.

But then, the tag line warned us. Strictly No Rules.

Rating: 6.5/10

P.S: I really hope Ajith and Vijay soon get tired of the hero-worship (and drop Thala / Ilaya Thalapathy from their names) and do their jobs as actors more often. The first step towards becoming a more serious actor is getting rid of the baggage that comes with the stardom. Yes, I am guilty of cheering for Vijay in the past too when Thirupaachi and Sivakasi came out. You know what that got me? One bad film after another. They kept making the same film again and again with him to the point of irritation that even the badly directed Kavalan seemed like a good break. The greatest disservice to an actor with potential is to worship a bad film. Stop defending the Aasals, aas***l*s.

Chitkabrey: Secrets Seven

August 27, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Suneet Arora

Cast: Ravi Kissen, Rahul Singh, Rajesh Shringapure, Svetlana Manolyo, Akshara Gowda, Pitobash

Storyline: Seven friends, each representing one of the cardinal sins, plus one more, meet at a reunion to find themselves trapped by an avenging junior from college

Bottomline: If you watch only one film a year, this is it. It will convince you why you were right staying away from films.

Promoted as the boldest Indian film made, Suneet Arora’s Chitkabrey – Shades of Grey, is indeed the most brave film to have hit the screens in recent times if it really thought that people will queue up to see a mostly naked Ravi Kissen.

There’s plenty of assorted nudity and love-making scenes thrown to spice up the amateur staging of what seems like a play with its Big Boss-like set-up. Like Big Boss, instructions are given by a mysterious stranger whose voice booms through the speakers to the occupants of the house.

So if you watch Big Boss as a guilty pleasure, you might just dig this. You will enjoy it for the same reasons as you watch the reality show. Laughing at it than with it most of the time. How can you keep a straight face and not laugh when a bad actor sobs to his wife that: “I let my boss enjoy with me” soon after a shot of two men sharing a shower.

A victim of ragging Rakesh Chaubey (Ravi Kissen) keeps the group captive at gunpoint and asks them to spill the beans on their dirty past.

Now, though Ravi Kissen’s character speaks chaste Hindi and quotes from his Hindu upbringing, he reproduces seven Biblical cardinal sins (and not the six arishadvargas from the Indian ethos) which is our first hint that the film has probably borrowed its core from another source and was desperately trying to find its footing in the Indian milieu.

A quick search online suggests a similar play by award-winning American playwright Kash Goins who wrote ‘VII Deadly Sins’ also about a reunion of eight classmates after a decade (changed to 15 years in this film though).

The caricatures that the makers of Chitkabrey give us:

Lust: Jaggi, the Sikh businessman with a big heart, is guilty of doing the naughty with a hottie and cheating on his wife. He was also the mastermind behind ripping off Ravi Kissen’s underpants during the ragging sequence.

Envy: The still-single Shankar betrays his successful rich friend Jaggi and also does the naughty with Jaggi’s wife on the sly.

Wrath: Angry young Deepak beat his 11-year-old because the kid got only 92 on 100 and also used to hit his wife because the salt in the daal wasn’t right.

Greed: Gujarati Jayan married for dowry and then ran off to Canada to start a fresh life with a brand new wife.

Pride: Rekha, the only girl in the gang, is so vain that she “prefers rape to a favour”. She “sells girls” for a living, while her husband is away picking up the soap for his boss. She used to be so vain that she once asked Ravi Kissen in college what he thought of her balls! Eyeballs, she clarifies after he uncomfortably says: Nice.

Gluttony: Aman Ali Siddiqui made a girl suck his pen in public back in college and is punished when his wife Fauzia Javed Khan has to eat kulfi in front of all his friends.

Sloth: Bengali babu Buddhadeb had taken to the bong (Yes, drugs in college!) and now dreams of being a bum in Bahamas because after ten years of marriage, he only thinks of his Biwi as his Behen!

Manipulation: New sin invented because the makers realised that they have eight characters but only seven sins, like in the American play. So smart South Indian Balaji who used to sell drugs in college goes chasing the Great American Dream and scores a Russian girl for a wife! Immoral foreign girl who likes to lure unsuspecting masseurs into a three-way with her husband in the middle of a massage.

Smell stereotypes? Just one of those things that makes this film so bad that it’s good. Enjoy with your friends. Not the way the word is used in this movie though.

(A censored version of this review originally appeared here.)

Not A Love Story: Did a horny midget shoot this film?

August 21, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Ram Gopal Varma

Cast: Deepak Dobriyal, Mahie Gill, Ajay Gehi, Neil Bhoopalam, Zakir Hussain

Storyline: A possessive boyfriend pays his aspiring actress girlfriend a surprise visit, finds a naked man at her place and kills him in a fit of rage and the two decide to clean up the mess

Bottomline: Part fact, part fiction, partly engaging, partly pornographic

Why would a filmmaker go all out to stick to details of real incidents (including geography, time, modus operandi and circumstances, also acknowledging the building that was the scene of crime) if he really wanted to take creative liberties with the consequence of it all to manufacture a twisted love story when the reality of the case is much richer than the clichés he has had to resort to?

While it can be argued that RGV’s fiction probably goes deeper into the reality of murder itself, there’s no doubt that the filmmaker was in such a hurry to make a sympathetic film before the judgement that he got social subtext of the case quite wrong. People will do anything to protect themselves, even if it means turning your back against love, Mr. Varma.

Meenal Baghel, the author of the book ‘Death in Mumbai,’ who has documented the Neeraj Grover murder in her book, raises a pertinent question. Though Maria was Jerome’s girlfriend, did she really love him? Even after her release, Maria has maintained that she’s not close to Jerome.

The casual sex angle is given filmy legitimacy as an act of thanksgiving by a helpless aspiring actress to the man to gave her a break and the love story between the accused lovers has been romanticised for the screen with absolutely no depth whatsoever, given the heinousness of the crime and the scarring consequences it could potentially have.

Instead of giving us that compelling, intense, psychological drama, the film chooses to linger up the skirt and down the blouse, with a pointless sense of perversion. The crotch-obsessed camera does not spare any man, woman or delivery-boy as unflattering bottom-angle shots distract from the emotional quotient. It’s tragic when the actors (Poor Mahie Gill is exploited with the shortest skirts and Deepak Dobriyal is reduced to playing an obsessed psychotic nut) are going all out, even if they are a little too loud than they ought to be.

While Ram Gopal Varma usually revels in crime stories given his intimate portrayals of the underworld (in Satya and Company), the only intimacy we see here is the underworld that’s below the belt. Why would any non-porn filmmaker repeatedly choose to go that close to legs throughout the film unless he has a midget crew running around with cameras unable to make eye-contact with actors?

The love story itself (written by Rohit G. Banawlikar), despite all its ambitions of projecting the love the accused shared (the film ends with text that informs us that they WANT to be killed together!) ends up looking like a passionate tale of inexplicable lust with the frequency that the boyfriend hogs her face. There is no tenderness or warmth in this love, just jealousy and lust.

If the film is somewhat watchable in between all the frequent distraction and constant assaults on aesthetic, it is only because of the inherent drama in the situation – the murder, what led to it and what happened after it.

If you set aside your basic urge to know what led to the murder, there’s very little that the film offers. It’s tabloid recreation, a sensational, titillating reconstruction of events that’s glossed over by a cosmetic psychological study and killed by sheer romanticism. In the hands of a more sophisticated filmmaker and any half-decent cinematographer (this film was shot by students), this is a story that could have ripped your heart out.

Too bad it lost focus chasing the skirt.

(A polite version of this review appeared here)

Chatur Singh Two Star: The Murder of Inspector Clouseau

August 20, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Torture

Director: Ajay Chandhok

Cast: Sanjay Dutt, Ameesha Patel, Gulshan Grover, Anupam Kher

Storyline: A bumbling Inspector must solve a crime and find lost diamonds despite his epic stupidity

Bottomline: The film is a lot stupider than its hero and unfunny to the point of torture

Peter Sellers would regret he ever played something that inspired this. Steve Martin may just shoot himself. Sanjay Dutt, for the good of his own health, should never watch this when he’s sober. And Anupam Kher, we hope made a lot of money to sell his soul like this.

This insanely asinine adaptation of The Pink Panther is an insult to the franchise, one best avoided in loving memory of Inspector Clouseau. Sanjay Dutt is like a fish out of water, served roasted on a plate with chips on the side, completely exposed and burnt. His limited range never quite picks up the right vibe for the role, the hideous wig and the pencil-thin moustache making his face look worse than he’s ever looked all his life.

And there’s poor Ameesha Patel, ambitiously entrusted with comedy, not quite finding her feet, looking lost like a mermaid in the woods. Even her plunging neckline fails to distract your attention from her complete lack of comic flair while Gulshan Grover should consider himself lucky to be killed off halfway into this disaster.

Chatur Singh Two Star has absolutely no redeeming quality, not a single gag good enough to make you smile (unless you will settle for Sanjay Dutt trying on baby clothes in the trial room). It takes phenomenal talent to pull off half jokes and poor jokes.  Given the absence of talent or half-decent jokes, the laboured attempts at humour result in a film that even Ed Wood would call dead wood.

The travesty of such bad writing is to be seen to be believed but please, trust the survivor who made it out alive. Take his word and skip this ticket to trauma. If you ever catch a glimpse on TV, make sure you have a remote to change channels or the reflexes to pull the plug, especially if you are a Clouseau fan.

P.S: This review has a lot more jokes than the film. Should you feel the need to still buy a ticket to the film, please also consider sending this writer a cheque as well, dear Chatur Singh. Two stars? Hello! They both can’t act.

This review originally appeared here.

Aarakshan: Why it must be watched

August 15, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Remember how Jerry Maguire typed out a ‘Mission Statement’ in the middle of the night just because he couldn’t sleep because of bad pizza or an epiphany. He makes a case against commercialisation of sport, loses his job and has nothing to hold on to but just his ideals.

Cameron Crowe was lucky to embark upon a rather simple issue there. Replace Sports with Education. Add the extremely flammable issue of reservation. Then, caste politics, players and parties affected. This is India. Throw a stone in the air here and it will hit and hurt at least one person. How do you make a film that is treading into a territory rigged with land mines?

Writers Prakash Jha and Anjum Rajabali set up the debate through the key players in a private university called Shakuntala Thakral Mahavishvavidyalaya (STM). It’s managed by an idealistic disciplinarian Anand Prabhakar (Amitabh Bachchan may just win every Best Actor award for this role next year) unwilling to compromise on his principles, no matter how much pressure there is from the rich trustees of the college. He teaches underprivileged students irrespective of their caste free of cost at home and considers deserving cases for admission on the basis of economic background than caste.

It’s a nice touch that the poor University clerk’s son is not a Dalit but a Pandit and it is a Dalit (Saif Ali Khan is convincing as Deepak Kumar) who happens to be the University topper. Anand’s daughter Poorbi (Deepika Padukone, surprisingly effective) represents the love and friendship between the hardworking Deepak and the carefree rich upper caste kid Sushanth (Prateik Babbar in a career worst).

The ‘Us versus Them’ divide surfaces with the Supreme Court’s judgement on reservation as opportunists (led by the Vice Principal Mithilesh played by Manoj Bajpai) turn friends into enemies. The film then becomes a platform of heated debate between Deepak and Sushanth.

For Deepak, his identity is a sensitive issue. As he says, it’s a story that dates back thousands of years and reminded to him every single day. He has reached the top through sheer hard work fighting the odds. He is pro-reservation.

When Sushanth realises that he will not get admission in a government college to do the mass communication course he wanted to do because of the quota system, he’s bitter. He is anti-reservation.

“Earn it through hard work,” is Sushanth’s first argument. Deepak reminds him of the hard work and service his people have done over centuries.

“You people are too scared to compete,” Sushanth responds. Deepak tells him there have been no avenues open to them to compete.

“Why don’t you earn it through merit,” asks Sushanth. Deepak tells him they would love to but… “In a race, the starting line should be the same. If started from the same place we did, it would have been a fair race.”

When the Principal pulls them up both for indulging in politics inside the campus, Deepak wants him to make his stand clear. “You are either with us or against us,” he says. Deepak suspects that the Principal is helping the underprivileged as charity. He does not want charity.

The Principal represents the conscientious Indian teacher. To him, all students are equal. He would leave politics out of it and stick to teaching. Yet, he is forced to take a stand by every other character in the film, including his own wife. Even then, there’s a fine sense of balance. While the father (head of system) says personally he does not see anything wrong about the Supreme Court judgement, the mother of the home (Tanvi Azmi) says that any law that plays with the future of children is bad.

That comment straight from the heart, coming without even a wee bit of political intent, becomes what the Mission Statement was to Jerry Maguire. Sticking to his ideals, Anand prefers to quit than continue as a party to the dirty politics only to find that there is no escaping it. Now, here’s where Jerry Maguire becomes a Rajnikanth film (Annamalai, Baasha, Padayappa or Sivaji) in Aarakshan as the protagonist goes from zero to hero, fills the film with unbelievably fairytale idealism, manufactures instant change of hearts and mobilizes thousands, only not as fast as it happens in a Rajnikant film.

This is the portion of the film that is grossly misread by many critics. Political cinema or any mass communication of political nature needs to be studied keeping in mind historical context, representation, technology and social relations. Yes, I remember my political communication lectures.

1. Historical context demands you get to the root of the issue and study solutions employed in the past and modern day application. How did Gandhi address the divide? He worked with them, practiced pluralism and inclusion, leading by example. Anand Prabhakar does exactly the same, and Prakash Jha, unlike a more mainstream director like Hirani, doesn’t see the reason to brand it ‘Gandhigiri’ or have Gandhi talk down to the masses. He creates a modern day Gandhi (he says he does not believe in non violence and he responds to all insults by focusing on what needs to be done, choosing to respond in action and deed than preachy diatribe like Munnabhai would). These very critics who want subtlety here had no such problems with Munnabhai because it was entertaining.

2. Representation is not about looking at whether a character has bad hair dye or a big nose or if they are drinking red wine, these are cosmetic issues (which are certainly relevant if the film needs to be rated for technical flair alone). Sometimes men play women in street theatre. Sometimes they don’t even have the props they need to tell the story and it is possible that they are not always the best of actors. A bourgeois art critic may just be amused by this depiction and dismiss it as amateur without considering the purpose and the relevance of it to their lives. What needs to be checked in representation, the key issue in political cinema, is the basics of balance. Are all parties represented, if yes… How? So are all the rich upper caste folk drinking wine like villains? The three villains are representatives of Commerce (the Vice Principal Mithilesh who expressly says that education is a business), Politics (the Minister played by Saurabh Shukla and later, we learn the leader of Dalits is a petty politician himself – exactly the reason the film didn’t go down well with Punia, who objected to the release of the film) and power hungry Educationists (one of the Trustees of the college). Are all educationists bad? Not really, among the upper caste are also the protagonist himself (who does not hesitate to write a cheque or stand guarantee to help the poor) and the other Trustee played by Darshan Jariwala who offers his house for teaching.
Just because a film goes away from discussing reservation, it does not mean that the film has forgotten the issue. The ideology is very clear. The first step towards addressing the complex issue of reservation is to convince those affected that the head of the system is all for inclusion, he sees every student as the same and recognises that some students need more attention than the others and that every student who cannot afford education needs to be helped out. This is exactly how you get to the root of the issue. The issue thrives on discrimination. The film gets right to that and makes sure that the protagonist never discriminates and yet addresses the issues and forces that brought reservation and quota into play – the lack of avenues for education, lack of supplementary/remedial education for the downtrodden. How is talking about inclusion going away from discussing reservation? It is going deeper into the subject. The points of the debate were made in the first half of the film. Now, in the second half, the film was working at solutions, yet failing where Hirani succeeded – in appealing to the urban bourgeois because of its tacky execution, a shame given the scale and the budget of the film, something street theatre never has access to.

3. That brings us to the issue of technology itself. Cinema as a technology used for this communication has become bloody expensive and is governed by forces of its own. The plague of star system, the hyper-sensitive political groups, social climate and the economics of marketing a film when there are more films made and few channels of distribution open to reach a mass. Technology determines the content and it cannot be ignored while studying political communication.

4. Social Relations. The issue still evokes polarized reactions in society, caste system still prevalent, even among the educated urban elite whose sensibilities may have changed but biases continue. With globalization, they may have embraced high art and developed condescension towards anything downmarket unless it is to appear cool enough to be seen loving the Singhams and the Dabanngs or Robots. There is a hidden condescension in that too but that’s a different story. Which part of the social equation does the film address? Education.

Due credit must be given to the makers for reminding us that, reservation or no reservation, it is the duty of every teacher to empower the underprivileged, irrespective of caste, whether it’s inside a classroom or a cow shed. Forget caste, think economic strata. Education is a great leveller. When you provide quality education, the rich will have no choice but to sit with the poor.

The point is made when a rich father asks if the teacher can conduct private tuitions separately for the rich. “You know, they don’t bathe. They stink,” he says, rather stupidly only to be sternly told by the protagonist, the biggest superstar of the nation, “It’s your thought that stinks.”

Despite the sloppy second half that is long-winded and idealistic, Aarakshan deserves to be watched for it advocates inclusion as a solution to the issue of reservation. It’s a complex truth that needs to be examined by the easily provoked who need to be shown that not every leader representing the minority is actually looking out for them. Case in point, the objections raised to this film by Punia who selectively quoted some of the anti-Dalit dialogues without acknowledging the powerful responses given by the protagonist of the film. Some times, bad leaders make all activism look silly.

As the villain of this film ironically sums activism: “Azaadi hai. Jo chahe nautanki kar le.” (There’s freedom. Anyone can do any drama.)

Like Anurag Kashyap told Punia during a recent debate on TV, if I want to address the issue/reality that Dalits are not allowed to enter a temple in Orissa, the first person to object would be the head of SC/ST board. Why would then anyone be brave enough to tread into that territory.

By objecting to Aarakshan and raking up a controversy where it was not needed, Punia has turned this film completely meta. The film has become the stand and the answer to the question raised by the likes of Punia – If you are not with us, you are against us.

It needs to be seen so that people know that system is not anti-Dalit. In fact, the truth is that an upper caste filmmaker made a film whose heart beats for the Dalit as much as it does for every poor student who cannot afford education.

Before I have more art critics pouncing on me approximating Aarakshan to Madhur Bhandarkar (whose films have no depth or balance from the socio-political perspective. Yes, Jha who is described as ‘Madhur Bhandarkar with a JNU background’ with his understanding of political communication is any day better than a multiplex-audience seeking sensation who exploits stereotypes. Jha employs archetypes to make his point and advocate solutions through mass media. Jha’s caricatures reveal more about reality than Bhandarkar’s pseudo-realistic portrayals) or B-grade films depicting rape (exploitation films dishing out sex and violence) because of the inherent cheese and tackiness quotient in Aarakshan, let me clarify two points.

1. Not all cinema is high art or even good art. Social films by design need to simple not to because people are stupid but because our politicians/ people representing groups are capable of twisting the most innocuous representations for political gain – do look at the number of victims of caste instigated violence and self-immolations that are related to the issue.

2. Debate/Social commentary is not always good cinema, some of them are obnoxious enough to keep running their public service messages on a loop. Yet, we need our cinema to address social issues in a way that they reach the mass simply because cinema’s role as mass media as a tool for change has been grossly underutilized. How many set out to make a Mother India today? The economics and business of cinema has changed phenomenally from the days of Mother India. With the amount of marketing spends needed to reach out to a mass, stars are a necessary evil.

Aarakshan is not great or even good cinema, but there’s no denying that it is a balanced social debate in mass media, not bad at all given all that it achieves through representation. Also, with Bachchan at the centre delivering one of the best roles of his career, Aarakshan despite all its other failings merits a watch. Not because it’s the best in the genre. Because not many make films in this genre. Films close to the real heartland of India. Our cynical urban upbringing has taken us far away from the charms of street theatre and social films. Sadly, this curious hybrid spawned by a big budget is all we get these days.

Genre: Drama
Directed by: Prakash Jha
Cast: Amitabh Bachchan, Saif Ali Khan, Manoj Bajpayee, Deepika Padukone, Prateik Babbar
Storyline: A principled Principal gets sucked into a political debate he does not want to entertain & gets his focus back
Bottomline: A brilliant socio-political debate halfway becomes a Rajnikant film without Rajnikant

Phirr: What the hell was that, again?

August 13, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Thriller

Director: Girish Dhamija

Cast: Rajneesh Duggall, Adah Sharma, Roshni Chopra, Mohan Agashe

Storyline: A man goes in search of his missing wife and takes help from a psychic who can just touch objects, people and even mobile phone-signals somehow

Bottomline: What happens when you throw a bunch of non-actors together and let the audience read their face? A social experiment that makes you wonder if you are being punished for your sins.

“You are being punished for your sins from your previous birth,” comes the answer when the clueless hero wonders why his wife went missing. If any of that reincarnation karma logic holds true, every person who bought a ticket to this film probably bored people to death telling stories in his/her previous birth.

Remember that “And then” joke from ‘Dude, Where’s My Car?’

‘Phhir’ (And then…) is that joke.

As the film begins, almost every other scene has a date and time, up to date till the second, like it actually has something to do the plot.

“And then?”

But, nope. It would have been a better idea to run a time-code that would tell us how much more of the film was left so that you could set your alarm accordingly and catch a few winks.

“And then?”

You would miss absolutely nothing at all even if you just woke up for the climax. The actors are unreadable. You can’t tell if they are happy or sad or angry or aroused half the time.

“And then?”

Even the supernatural element seems to be put in for convenience than for intrigue because there is no consistency, logic or limitations to what the psychic can see and what she cannot.

“And then?”

So, sometimes, she’s able to see the past. Sometimes, she gets premonitions of the future. Sometimes, she has to touch objects, sometimes people and once, she even gets a snatch of a visual by eavesdropping on a phone accidentally.

“And then?”

For some reason, the cops seem to need transmitters when they have their friendly neighbourhood psychic who helps them out regularly. What? You haven’t heard of it? Happens all the time in this world.

“And then?”

With its seemingly improvised make-it-up-as-you-go narrative, the film goes back and forth in time to tell us something it forgot. And sometimes it is because it has changed its mind about how a scene ought to play out.

“And then?”

A plagiarised film, at least, keeps you intrigued about what was stolen and how it was changed. But this is worse. This is a script possibly written by a ghost. Maybe in ghost ink.

“And then?”

Now if only I had the power the psychic in the movie had, a mere touch of the newspaper ad or the mouse while booking tickets online would have saved me quite a bit of money and time.

“And then?”

And then, nothing.

“And then?”

Aargh!

“And then?”

(This review originally appeared here)

I am Kalam: To Kalam, with love

August 6, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Nila Madhab Panda

Cast: Harsh Mayar, Hussan Saad, Pitobash, Gulshan Grover

Storyline: A street smart underprivileged kid befriends a rich Rajput prince and dreams of going to school

Bottomline: A thank you letter to former President Kalam for inspiring children

If someone were to take the most inspiring ideas from the books of APJ Abdul Kalam and made a movie to show its applications in contemporary India, it would be a lot like Nila Madhab Panda’s I am Kalam, a hit at festivals around the world. The film was rated 4.40 on 5 by audiences at the Transilvania International Film Festival recently.

“An ignited mind is the most powerful resource on earth, above the earth and under the earth”

Street smart Chottu (Harsh Mayar), who works in a Rajasthani dhaba that caters to the haveli-turned-hotel, catches Kalam’s address on TV and becomes an ignited mind. He already had a passion for books and education and dreamt of becoming one of those television models sporting ties on TV. But now, he finds a role model in the President and gives himself a name. Kalam.

“The right kind of education on moral values will upgrade the society and the country”

Little Kalam does not lie. He does not steal. He stands up for friends. He works hard and wants to earn to fund his own education. He’s a great example for kids. And this is one reason you must take your kids to watch this film.

“The ‘dream-thought-action’ philosophy is what I would like to be inculcated in each and every student.”

When Kalam catches the President’s four-step path to success (Dreams. Action Plan. Hard Work. Courage), he transforms into a student. So what if he’s not in school.

“A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.”

The game changers in Kalam’s life happen through the friendless young rich Rajput prince (Hussan Saad) and a foreign tourist Lucy who share their knowledge with him. While the Prince teaches him English, the tourist teaches him French and the young lad himself teaches them everything he knows – from Hindi to Camel riding to lesser known aspects about India. The village in Rajasthan becomes a microcosm for what India represents today with one feet firmly in the past and one in the present. The haveli may open itself up to tourists but is still unwilling to go all out and start cooking in the palace to cater to them.

“Give one hour a day exclusively for book reading and you will become a knowledge centre in a few years.”

Kalam becomes a knowledge centre in months and shows great promise of becoming a leader. The filmmaker wants to ensure that we don’t dismiss this off as idealism and shows us change in Kalam, slowly and steadily. He learns simple things that any of us can in a matter of minutes – whether it’s about making tea, or wearing a tie, to basic greetings in different languages. And he connects everything he learns from people with what he reads in books.

“Music and dance can be used as an instrument for ensuring global peace and act as a binding force.”

There’s a beautiful scene in the middle of the film when a whole group joins in an impromptu jamming session led by Chottu. There’s a guitarist, there are folk artistes and there’s a foreigner playing an Indian string instrument.

“If India is to become developed by 2020, it will do so only by riding on the shoulders of the young.”

Thankfully, the change in Kalam does not happen because of the foreigner. It happens because of children. They overcome their obstacles and speak up for what they want by initiating a dialogue with the older generation.

“What matters in this life more than winning for ourselves is helping others win”

Kalam does not care about winning himself. He is confident. He knows he will reach his destination some day. And wants his best friend to win, whether it is a French test or a Hindi elocution contest in school.

“It is not a disgrace to not reach the stars, but it is a disgrace to have no stars to reach for.”

While many Indian youth (like Pitobash as Luvtund) grow up idolising film stars, we are really lucky to have Kalam. And it’s a good thing that someone made a film to give kids a role model, someone they can become.

Tree of Life: Prayer. Paen. Painting. Poem.

August 3, 2011 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Terrence Malick

Cast: Sean Penn, Brad Pitt, Jessica Chastain

Storyline: A family copes with loss and remembers time spent together

Bottomline: Malick digs deep into the DNA of man and life of all creation, a philosopher’s spiritual take on Darwin’s theory of evolution

This is an updated review coming when the film is on its way out of theatres, I guess it will be safe to discuss plot points and key aspects to unlocking the mysteries in The Tree of Life.

In a line, it’s about forgetting the stairs and reaching for the door.

Think about it. We spend all our lives climbing stairs and becoming someone important enough to be taking elevators in skyscrapers.

As a child, you want to know what’s in the attic. Because someone built stairs leading to it.

As an adolescent, you want to break in and peep into that girl’s wardrobe. And you will take the stairs leading to it. Because it’s forbidden.

As an adult, you want to climb the stairs of the biggest buildings believing that is success. And then elevators. Because, the world believes it.

You travel around the world looking for success and yet the place that brings you most happiness lies at the doorstep of your own home. Your children, wife and dog. At the end of the day, all you really want is for your wife and child to love you.

The thing about stairs is that they take you some place, but not anywhere new. The thing about stepping out of the door and looking at the larger, grander scheme of things is that you will find that there’s so much to explore and understand. It gives us the serenity to accept things for what they are and be grateful for all the happiness we have from family with all the domestic strife, accidents and violence around us.

In the final moments of Terrence Malick’s film we see the skyscraper indeed but what we see in it – is the magnificent reflection of something way bigger – the skies, which are just a small portion of all creation, not even a speck on the universe. We see the deadness of a bridge but what brings the frame alive is the flight of the bird.

If Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey had one of the biggest jump cuts in the history of time spanning some three million years, Terrence Malick, who comes up with a spiritual companion piece to epic sci-fi film, gives the biggest flashback in the history of time spanning over 13.75 billion years – and tells us the story of life from the very beginning.

Malick’s film, his most abstract till date, is certainly not for everyone, if comments from the bored folk at PVR are any indication. Talking does not aid listening, my friends. If you had shut up and listened, maybe you would’ve heard what he was trying to tell you.

Though it can be argued if this is worth the price of the ticket, and time, to the man on the street, there is no doubt that Malick fans and those who love pure cinema at its gloriously indulgent best will love his spectacular vision.

Also, it isn’t difficult to understand if you patiently surrender to its audacity and scale to tell a story that’s as macro as it gets at one level and yet microscopically intimate and personal at another.

The auteur achieves this by interrupting the story of a family dealing with loss over a period of time with the story of the creation of the universe itself to understand where we came from and the way of life as it has been over billions of years. The bigger picture.

As the mother observes in the opening lines of the film: “There are two ways through life. The way of nature and the way of grace. You have to choose which one to follow.”

Malick takes us back to the times of the dinosaur to suggest that the way of grace existed even then. A predator stamps on the face of a little injured dinosaur and changes its mind looking at the plight of the wounded, pretty much in the same place millions of years later where our young hero Jack (the eldest of the O’Briens) shoots his brother’s finger. More on that later.

Back in the world as we know it, we see the way of nature manifested through the tough father (Brad Pitt) and the way of grace epitomized by the mother (Jessica Chastain) as the O’Briens raise their three kids in the fifties in a town called Waco in Texas.

In contrast to the segment featuring the spectacle of the creation of the universe, this chapter plays out like an intimate home video as we get a glimpse into their world – how the kids were born, how they were raised, what they were taught. The family is the microcosm of the world itself. The father teaches the kids the boundaries of their home even before they could understand.

While the compassionate mother introduces the kids to God (she points to the skies and says: “That’s where God lives” as Smetana’s Die Moldau, the free-flowing composition inspired by Bohemian rivers, moistens your eyes), the strict father teaches the kids the hard truths of life (He lays down the rules of the house over Brahms, a classical music regular that we learn was improved upon for perfection, and demands their affection).

“Help each other. Love everyone. Every leaf. Every ray of light. Forgive,” she teaches them.

“Your mother is naïve,” the father tells the kids. “It takes fierce will to survive in this world.” Soon, he introduces them to evil. “The world lives by trickery. You wanna succeed, you can’t be too good.”

These life lessons are interspersed with doses of love as the kids ping-pong between the two biggest influences shaping their lives. We watch the kids play with the mother, we see her kiss them to sleep, and observe that she gives water to the thirsty, even if he’s a criminal.

The triumph of Tree of Life lies in its ability to connect with our personal stories. From all that the kids learn growing up, we try to understand ourselves and everything we learnt – through religion, upbringing and textbooks – and the choices we make. It’s a deeply meditative film on existence, a prayer of thanksgiving and a paen to motherhood.

Motherhood, because according to Malick, God is a woman. And the woman is God because she creates, she introduces the child to the way of grace. And Man is the child because he takes time to learn and takes to the way of nature quite early on. Which is why the father repents his actions way later in the film while the child picks up the way of nature as early as adolescence when he is consumed by lust and experiments with violence.

The conflict between the way of nature and grace is played out through the eldest son mourning the loss of his brother. The film does not tell us why he died and we can only speculate given the themes of Malick’s previous films that he died at war or any possible gun related incident, given how the kids were raised.

Also, the mother says: “The nuns taught us that no one who loves the way of grace ever comes to a bad end.” And the kid is shown to trust his brother, even when he is asked to place his finger at the muzzle of the gun. While the father teaches them to fight, the boys experiment with guns early.

The central conflict of faith is triggered when the family witnesses a random death at the swimming pool. They are taken to church and we catch the passage from Job that instantly explains the entire film. Why do the innocent have to die?

“Misfortune befalls even the good… Like a tree, we are uprooted,” a sermon at the church details a portion from the Book of Job that answers every question that grown-up Jack has. (Okay, didn’t type out the whole passage on my phone while watching because I thought I had enough to Google the rest online but I was wrong. And if you do know where this passage is in the Book of Job, please quote, will appreciate the effort!) But the point here is that though young Jack did go to church, he didn’t fully understand Job back then.

“Father. Mother. You wrestle inside me,” Jack’s voiceover says towards the end of the film summing up that internal conflict we all face. Why should we be good when so much shit happens?

The film is not just about why bad things happen, it’s also about making peace with loss and celebrating memories because that’s one place that death can’t take away. It’s about realising that the time we have on this planet is just too limited and with each other, even less.

A child may be content cycling in circles inside the attic because a tall man with the book told him that’s what counts. But how content are you walking around huge buildings with circular corridors or elevators that will take you up and down the same place?

Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography (my bet at the Oscars next year) will haunt you for long as Malick stamps his signature through all his favourite shots to constantly remind you of the intricate thread that connects his films – that man is just another form of life in the vast expanse of infinite creation as the camera often frames him against the bright light above or the deep blue ocean.

The special effects used to portray the creation of the universe, apparently, were done the good old way through chemicals at the laboratory and were not computer generated. Which is probably another reason the film reminds you of Kubrick’s masterpiece on the evolution of the human race over time. It just has to be seen on the big screen. Because it has a larger than life canvas. Life is just a character in this motion picture and it’s all really about finding what fills it with happiness.

“I’m more you than her,” as Jack admits to his father. It is the nature of man, after all. “Nature only wants to please itself… To have its own way.”

“The only way to be happy is to love.” As clichéd it sounds, it is love and acceptance of the way of grace, surrender yourself at Her feet and know that you are safe in God’s hand. Even after life itself.

Treat this film as you would treat a visit to the temple. Go with an empty cup and an open mind.

Else, just skip and don’t ruin it for those who want to pay attention to the God in Malick’s detail.

And yes, please forget this flight of stairs that I have taken you on. Submit yourself at the door and see where it takes you.

Post-Script about the Script:

The first draft of the screenplay can be found here. Be warned that the film is very different from that version. The scene at the church where the preacher quotes from the Book of Job is not there in this draft. As observed in the review above, that passage really is the key to interpreting this film. What I like is that huge chunks of dialogues have been edited out and replaced by visuals. While the script may sound preachy, the film itself lets you to absorb and forces you to read what’s between the lines. I am not sure if I would’ve liked the film if it explained as much as the script does. While the father is given more shades of grey, the script portrays a very bleak picture of the world and even takes us to the end of the universe as we know it. But, being the optimist, I love how the film ends.

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