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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

Straight: Virgin’s Record

March 27, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama
Director: Parvati Balgopalan
Cast: Vinay Pathak, Gul Panag, Anuj Choudhary, Sid Makkar
Storyline: A shy virgin man in his thirties begins to wonder if he’s gay after he has a dream involving his one of male employees.
Bottomline: A silly light-hearted romantic comedy

The romantic comedy genre, a staple of Hollywood’s assembly line productions, strangely here in India comes to us as multiplex fare, starring one of the finest actors arthouse cinema has given us.

So yes, there’s nothing even remotely arthouse about Parvati Balgopalan’s ‘Straight – Ek Tedhi Medhi Love Story.’ In fact, Straight plays it safer than even the mainstream films made with similar themes treating homophobia and sexual confusion with light-hearted political correctness.

It wears a multiplex film badge only because of the profile of the leading pair, so don’t walk in expecting another ‘Dasvidaniya’ or ‘Dor.’

As we have read from the previews, the only talking point of the film is that Vinay Pathak and Gul Panag get to make out. Everything else is an excuse to get to that point. So we have a few inspired adventures lined up before this as Pinu Patel (Vinay Pathak pretty much like ‘The 40-Year-Old Virgin’) tries to lose his virginity – one that involves him popping pills and getting admitted to the hospital with a tent and another with him setting off the fire alarms in the bathroom because his equipment fails to work.

Very few actors can pull off slapstick of this nature with an innocent endearing charm and Vinay Pathak gives this sex-laced romantic comedy the much needed human face, making the most bizarre situations seem believable.

But for a couple of songs right at the beginning of the film that try hard in generating sympathy of the lead character, the rest of the film breezes through with a some feel-good moments.

Especially, the one where his new male friend (Sid Makkar Anuj Choudhary) tells him to narrate his biggest tragedy like it happened to someone else and when the girl he likes (Gul Panag) observes that it is the imperfections that make us all real. But that’s the thing about cinema – unless the technical aspects and the writing is perfect, it doesn’t seem real.

Gul Panag plays the perfect foil to Vinay Pathak and their chemistry towards the end is heartwarming (and then, the cornball climax sets in). The guys Sid Makkar and Anuj Choudhary break a few stereotypes associated with gay people and the fact that we never find out if is Sid Anuj is gay or not makes it all the more interesting.

Straight surely had more potential than it realises but ends up watchable anyway with the leading man stringing together a few good laughs.

P.S: Thank God for blogs. Unlike print where the errors are preserved for posterity, here at least we get to set the record Straight. 🙂

Jai Veeru: Bang Bang, Handcuffs and the Bhaisexuals

March 24, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Action
Director: Puneet Sira
Cast: Fardeen Khan, Kunal Khemu, Dia Mirza, Arbaaz Khan, Anjana Sukhani
Storyline: Two boy friends go to Bangkok (one to catch the other) and they take a road trip back with gay abandon. Ahem! And there are handcuffs involved.
Bottomline: A hardcore guy on guy action film.

Fardeen Khan is smiling.

He has never got a single good review all his life but there’s been no dearth of films or offers. Apparently, producers seem to think he’s ridiculously good-looking that they have begun to invent reasons to justify why his character doesn’t need to act.
In Jai Veeru, because of a head injury, Jai’s mind-body coordination is apparently fractured. And Fardeen gets away with staring as an art form.

Jai Veeru is either a silly entendre filled action film or a fascinating study of repression and alternative sexuality. Here’s why.

Like most Boy-meets-Boy stories, mechanic Jai (Fardeen) meets con-man Veeru (Kunal Khemu) at a bar and the two strike a special dostana – the kind of bond where they find it difficult to live without the other. Even the repressed Veeru tries to go out with a girl, Jai shows up to ruin it.

Veeru in complete denial confronts Jai asking him: Meri Kyon Li? (Why did you take my trip?) before breaking into song and dance, wearing bling, beads on his hair and jewellery.

Thanks to a twist borrowed from The Departed, we find out that Jai is an Inspector, an undercover cop (he has been inspecting what Veeru’s been doing under the covers) and has slowly fallen for him.

“Don’t get confused, Jai,” the chief of police warns him. “Our priority is Tejpal.”

Who’s Tejpal?

Tejpal is a shuddh-Hindi speaking gangster (Arbaaz Khan) who later quizzes the duo about their relationship. While Veeru says he would give his life for Jai, Jai says he could kill for Veeru. Not unconvinced, Arbaaz pulls Jai’s shirt down to check for hidden microphones but ends up examining his chest hair.

In the encounter that follows, Veeru accidentally shoots Jai right on the forehead and escapes to Bangkok. But thankfully (quite unfortunately, for us though), Jai does not have a brain and the doctors are able to fix him up with just a metal plate and a slender nurse Dia Mirza.

But his thoughts are elsewhere. “Teri yaadien mujhe tadpathi hai,” (Your memories torture me) he sings. He has Dia walking and prancing around, tempting him, looking hot and sultry but his life is still like the desert he’s walking in.
“Main tumhare liye kya kuch nahin kiya Jai… Humare beech Veeru aa raha hai,”(What did I not do for you? But Veeru is between us) she tells him and he finally comes to terms with what he wants. He wants to go to Bangkok and nail Veeru.

Fardeen gets his way as the friends reunite and bond. Kunal flirtatiously bends away from him and farts playfully before Tejpal’s gunmen open fire.

Jai Veeru board the plane running, without realising the pilot’s been shot dead and the petrol tank punctured with bullets. A one-time pilot-trainee Veeru asks if there are any petrol pumps on the way. The fans outside the plane stop. And instead of turning the air-conditioning on, Jai panics screaming “May Day, May Day” into the walkie talkie. And Veeru gets to say the only joke in the film, “Abey yeh May nahin, June chal raha hai.” (This is not May, this is June.)

After Veeru safely crash lands, Jai gives him a head-banging (to remind him about the metal plate on his forehead). The strange bedfellows check into a honeymoon suite in a Bangkok hotel called Moon Light Green Wood as a board in the frame suggests that the hotel has Happy hour rates. Ahem!

The next morning, Veeru wakes up rubbing his chest and asking Jai: “Tu aadmi hai ya jaanwar.” (You a man or an animal?)

They watch a man-on-man wrestling match and wonder if the laal chaddi would win or the peeli chaddi and realise how much they missed being bum chums themselves.

Veeru looks tragically at the handcuffs that had come between them.  Soon, there’s action on the bed, one gets mounts the other.

The film builds to a climax that suggests that women can’t be trusted. And Jai lets Veeru go, giving him a watch that would hopefully remind him about their time together.

If Dostana was about two straight boys pretending to be gay, Jai-Veeru does exactly the opposite.

There are only four reasons why you would end up watching Jai Veeru.

1. You have a metal plate in your head.

2. You are into S&M, and are handcuffed to the seat.

3. You wanted a place to make out with your boyfriend and you are a guy.

4. You have a job that requires you to review this film.

RocknRolla: The Guy is back n rocking!

March 20, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Action
Director: Guy Ritchie
Cast: Gerard Butler, Thandie Newton, Tom Wilkinson
Storyline: A bunch of crooks steal from each other till they all get what they deserve
Bottomline: Guy returns to his tried and tested formula

How does Guy Ritchie make films?

He gets an ensemble of gangsters and druggies.

Makes some of them stupid, some of them dangerous, some of them drip cool and all of them dishonest.

Has them cheat or steal something off each other until it all blows up into one big climax with all guns blazing.

Sticks to film noir but keeps the mood fun, lights it up in style, edits it slick, puts in a funky cool score and spares the good guys.

After two disappointing Madonna-inspired turkeys at the box office ‘Swept Away’ and ‘Revolver’ (that probably got jammed trying to pack in Kabbalah with crime), the maverick filmmaker’s back to his form and formula from the ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’ and ‘Snatch’ days.

And since he has realised that this is what he does best, with RocknRolla (certainly his third best), the Guy’s decided to turn it into an official franchise so that at least the fans know what to expect and turn up at the cinemas.

Right from the very first frame, RocknRolla oozes style and attitude, the British accent only making it sound all the more cool. The camera whizzes from frame to frame and introduces us to a motley crew of characters who are inexplicably linked to each other. Here, the world of real estate business forms the backdrop for the series of unfortunate events to unfold.

You just can’t tell where cinematography ends and editing begins and Guy keeps the narrative seamless for the first half of the film, and has you guessing even within the predictable structure.

You know things will ultimately come a full circle and that the pieces will all fall into place, you know the twists are all around the corner but Guy plays his cards at his own pace, reasonably in control of all the characters he’s unleashed and their destinies.

With over two dozen characters fighting for screen time, with their own arcs and agendas, it is no mean feat to keep the humour alive. Watch that bit where Guy breaks linearity to tell us all about one hell of a chase – a getaway sequence featuring Gerard Butler on the run, being chased by near immortal Russians.

Gerard Butler is the Brit Clooney, a picture of cool even in the most stressed out situations, Tom Wilkinson completely wicked and Thandie Newton still very, very hot. Mark Strong really stands out among the rest of the bunch and ends up as the strongest of the lot.

In any case, the actors are just incidental. This is a signature Guy Ritchie film. And that makes it a safe bet not just for him but also for those of us who have missed the substance from one of the most stylish filmmakers of our times.

RocknRolla is a potent combination of style and substance. Get stoned, this slick flick is a trip.

Kalki: On playing the other woman

March 14, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Not many would want to be in Kalki Koechlin’s shoes. But then, not many would be strong to try.

In her very first film, she ran the risk of being judged against the likes of Savitri, Vyjayanthimala and Madhuri Dixit who played Chandramukhi in the earlier versions of Devdas.

On the personal front, she went public about her relationship with her director and father of an eight-year-old.

The fact that Dev D is a sexed-up modern-day interpretation where Chanda happens to be a victim of an MMS scandal isn’t exactly something one can talk about without courting controversy.

“Half the country got off on that clip. They downloaded it. And, they turn around and call me the slut,” a splendid Kalki playing Chanda tells Dev in the definitive scene that instantly captures angst, reveals vulnerability and simultaneously, her strength.

“I watched a lot of world cinema with strong women characters,” Kalki reveals how she prepared to play one of the most complex characters onscreen in recent times. “These characters taught me a thing or two about how a woman’s strength comes from her vulnerability. She covers herself with a ‘No one messes around with me’ because she’s protecting something else underneath.”

Mention that the confident physicality of the character is striking
and she tells you it’s because “there were a lot of photos of Gia
(Marie Carangi), Marilyn Monroe and other iconic sexual symbols being passed around” for reference.

Did Anurag or she ever talk to the Delhi schoolgirl it is loosely
based on? Did they wonder if they were doing the right thing by
suggesting that the only choice left for her is prostitution?

“It’s completely fictional. The minute you take anything from real
life, you are going to put yourself in dangerous, controversial ground but I think it’s been done with sincerity and honesty. What are the possibilities when your family, people you love and care for – plus the public – judge you? Where do you go? We live in a world where there are a 1000 options, this is one route this girl happened to take. I don’t think the movie is about what she would end up as.”

Chanda wasn’t originally written as an expat/half-Indian role.

“That happened because I came in. Anurag works closely with his actors. Even in Mahi’s case, he wrote the character after having met her.”

Kalki landed the role after three auditions after getting a call from UTV. “When I moved to Bombay, I gave my photos to all production houses because I needed some income. I couldn’t live off theatre alone.”

Having recently won the MetroPlus Playwright Award 2009 along with her co-author Prashant Prakash for ‘Skeleton Woman,’ Kalki considers theatre to be her primary career.

“Theatre is the actor’s playground and film is the director’s. When
you are in film, you have to trust the director completely because there’s a bigger vision that you can’t see,” says the girl who came back home after studying theatre for three years at Goldsmiths, London and was also a part of a theatre company called Theatre of Relativity there for two years.

Post Dev D, Kalki’s parents, who are based in Bangalore, are relieved and happy. “For a while, they have seen me struggling and not making enough money to live out of theatre.”
Does she have more projects lined up with her filmmaker-boyfriend?

“No, no projects lined up. Everybody is very curious and cynical right now. It is very sensitive but at the end of the day, what can we say or do? We are together, we are happy and I guess, only time will tell.”

On ‘Skeleton Woman’

I first heard this Inuit folktale about a fisherman who finds a skeleton of a dead woman when I was in a theatre workshop with Anamika Haksar. We did a skit on it. When I was filming for Dev D, Anurag gave me a book with strong women characters. He had highlighted this folktale. It was a strange coincidence how the story kept coming back.

It was just an inspiration. Skeleton Woman is a love story but as the play continues, you know there’s something bizarre going on and everything is not as happy as it seems. It has a huge, strong, visual element. It’s larger than life and if there’s one thing that’s real in this relationship, it’s the people in it. But towards the end, you discover that even that is not real.

1977: Sarath Kumar Returns

March 12, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Action
Director: G.N. Dinesh Kumar
Cast: Sarath Kumar, Old Sarath Kumar with white beard, Younger old Sarath Kumar in French beard and hat (the spy look), Young Sarath with dyed beard pretending to be old Sarath Kumar, Namitha, Farzana, Radha Ravi
Storyline: Scientist son of a Nattamai-looking head of fishing hamlet goes to Malaysia to clear the name of his dead father who had a deadlier past – he was James Bond or something.
Bottomline: Formula re-written for the zillionth time since 1977.

It’s always wonderful to sit back and watch any action film with Captain or Sarath Kumar. Forget criticising, even analysing the genre would be a cardinal sin. Who can forget Captain lying on ice, sporting only his boxers and enjoying the chill in Narasimha, forcing the villains to employ the shock treatment torture technique. But, only to have a nearby transformer explode and Captain deliver the knockout punchline: “Narasimhavukku current kudutha antha currentukkey shock adikkumda” (Even electricity would get a shock if it touches Narasimha). One will have to be a Class A moron to try and pass judgement on such fare.

1977 begins with a build-up for Raasaiyya (and you don’t have to be a genius to figure they are talking about Sarath) before goons descend at the fishing hamlet and burn the fish. The twist: Raasaiyya is a non-violent, bearded old man who has probably just seen Mani Ratnam’s Bombay the previous night. He douses himself with petrol and asks the goons to burn him, only to make them fall on his feet and beg for forgiveness.

Enter his son, scientist (Youth Sarath) who receives a hero’s welcome home (dancers form a circle around him and shower him with petals as he walks around with a smile). After donating his white blazer to an old man and sidey shades to an old woman, youth Sarath pays tribute to his Mom’s shrine (two bangles placed over the letter T) at home with old Sarath as Chinese music fused with S.A. Rajkumar-type pathos chorus take over the sentimental reunion.

While the son is away getting a Scientist award from the President, the father chances upon a newspaper with an advertiser’s feature on Malaysia. He immediately hams, runs in and rushes out with a suitcase and falls asking for water. A man with a bad wig runs in to get a sombu, only to drop it. Cut to old Sarath with coin on head.

Curious to unravel the mystery, youth Sarath leaves to Malaysia and immediately bumps into Fat Girl 1 (Farzana) and soon, they roll on the floor for a bit and kiss accidentally as it normally and regularly happens in most Captain/Sarath movies.

Again, the twist: Sarath and girl both carry the same kind of handbag (cuz Sarath is metrosexual hero who also wears pink often) and the bags get swapped after their collision. His has bottles of pickle and hers has a spare bra. And hero-heroine meet for first date.

Yes, so the girl is that kind of heroine who bites her lips when even accidentally touched by our hero. We also find out why she’s fat when we hear her order food: “Sandwich with lots of fries and chips.” But soon, the date is interrupted by a mentally ill old woman who tries to stabs Sarath with a fork but ends up injuring fat girl.

Given their mutual affinity for pink, the pair breaks into a duet. Malaysian bikini babes prance around at the beach as Sarath walks in with a flowery shirt, buttons open, flaunting his Mr. Madras chest hair and man boobs.

We soon learn that old Sarath was a prisoner serving a sentence for the massacre of over a hundred innocent people. We understand that the lawyer who won that case was long dead but had a daughter – lawyer Chandni, the director refuses to show us the clichéd court scenes and smartly opts to show us Fat Girl 2 (Namitha) cavorting in the water, as the chorus goes: Oh hot stuff, get ready for me.

But Namitha is an actor of substance. Since she wants to be taken seriously as a lawyer, though she has a plunging neckline, she has a lawyer’s collar around her neck falling into it. “My father was the king of law,” she says, insisting that old Sarath was probably guilty.

We aren’t told explicitly but maybe later that night, young Sarath probably caught a rerun of Moonru Mugam on TV. So, he sticks a beard, smokes from a pipe and walks in like older Sarath into a Don’s lair and almost succeeds in stealing a drink before the bad guy opens fire and an action sequence breaks out to heavy metal score.

Youth Sarath then learns that all the people who had given evidence against his father are now brain-dead and only a medical miracle can bring them back and you begin to fear if Best Scientist will automatically translate to being Best Doctor.

To boost his political image (he uses his party flag in the film), Sarath also believes in equality and wears clothes of the same colour and material as his heroines. Being an action hero, all he has to do is fight, get injured and soak in the loving as the competition between the girls in Large and the Extra-large costumes heats up and the former observes: Iva speeda paatha first-aid ille, first nightey mudichiduva. (At the speed she’s going, she’ll finish first night before first-aid)

The much awaited reunion scene between mother and son happens when she tells him: “Naan Un Amma. Nee yen pulle da.”

The flashback tells us that father Sarath used to be James Bond incarnate. As an honest police officer, he dodges a bullets by simply staring at it and sends the villain to jail causing the bad guy to open fire in public and frame honest cop for it.

Since, there’s not too much time left for the climax, one more song is sneaked in to show Sarath with a shaved chest and body art and the lyrics go: “Frig it up, come on.”

Go with a bunch of friends, and you will crack up every two minutes and go home laughing so hard, craving for the only thing that can be better than a Sarath action film – a Captain action film.

At the risk of sounding greedy, I would so like a T.Rajenddher action film.

Yaavarum Nalam: The Idiot-Box Bhooth entertains but overstays

March 12, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Thriller
Director: Vikram K. Kumar
Cast: R.Madhavan, Neetu Chandra, Saranya, Deepak Dobriyal
Storyline: When an engineer and family move into a new apartment on the 13th floor, he comes across a daily soap on TV that closely mirrors the happenings in his household.
Bottomline: Tune in your head-sets for a modern entertaining supernatural thriller that could’ve done with a little snipping.

Understanding that spooks today sound more funny than scary to the modern audience, director Vikram K Kumar brings us that rare Tamil spook-fest that is designed to make you laugh at the eeriness of the situation.

And it’s the relatable humour, the matter-of-factness and the light-hearted mood that make you sit through this film that’s stretched beyond indulgence.

There’s a good reason that horror films around the world are usually about 100 minutes long or less. The supernatural genre needs a generous amount of willing suspension of disbelief and unless there’s a gratifying fantasy element involved, nobody wants to suspend disbelief for too long.

At least, not to watch blood and gore. Certainly not when the basic premise of the film itself is flawed (as is the case in most horror films).
Here, engineer Manohar (Madhavan) strangely seems to be the only one in the family who can see that the daily soap reflects the happenings in his household and he’s not your regular soap watcher. Or maybe the intellectually-challenged soap-addicts at home always miss that damned recap segment.

Yes, Hollywood horror films too take their time to get things going but once they do, the body count is always on the rise and the narrative goes at breakneck speed and stops only after most of the characters are dead, after momentarily dwelling into reasons that address the root of the horror. Here, Vikram K Kumar takes his own time to shake things up, plaguing the narrative with songs that should rightly feature in the deleted scenes of a DVD. Then, the flashback sequence in second act overstays its welcome and slams the brakes on the story-telling.

If the film works despite these obvious flaws, it is because the director seems to know exactly what the modern audience is tired of watching. No God-men spouting mumbo-jumbo, no psychotic looking psychics, no scary lecherous watchmen, no rickety lifts, no humans possessed by ghosts and most of the horror, except the very end, happens in broad day light.

P.C. Sreeram’s cinematography sets the mood and lights up the space for the spooks to unfold in a world familiar to us without ever resorting to overtly scary-looking visuals to convey horror. Even the gore in the flashback is made more effective when we are shown the aftermath in classic black and white grading. Just don’t pay attention to the occasionally drunken camera that shakes in a desperate attempt to build tension. If the look and the feel of this scare fest is world class, it’s purely because of P.C. Sreeram and Sreekar Prasad who should’ve rightfully been given the licence to knock off 30-40 minutes of the film.

And, there’s the leading man R.Madhavan who’s always in control of the film, playing down his reactions to make it more relatable to the urban audience, employing drama only when absolutely necessary. Neetu Chandra has poor-make up to blame and the poor lip sync/dubbing
suggests that they probably didn’t shoot some of her scenes separately
for the Hindi and the Tamil versions of the film.

With so many pluses, it’s a pity this film isn’t any shorter. But as they say, all’s well that ends well and ‘Yaavarum Nalam’ ends well.

The Pink Panter: The true story of the brave few who dared to be his friends

March 11, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

My latest film. Took four years in the making. Ha ha! Strictly only for those who like my stuff and/or those who know Abhishek Shah. Enjoy!

Uncut: When Anthony donned the mantle

March 11, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Slumdog Millionaire owes its eight Oscars, 64 other wins and 28 nominations to Benjamin Button.

Thanks to David Fincher and Brad Pitt, cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle won an Oscar, a BAFTA, an ASC (American Society of Cinematographers) Award, a Golden Frog (from Camerimage) and a New York Film Critics Circle Award for Best Cinematography and a few other nominations for his inventive collaboration with Danny Boyle.
How so?

The story goes that Danny Boyle and Anthony Dod Mantle hadn’t actually met to work on Slumdog Millionaire.

“We were going to go to America and do a studio film, a very interesting film… It consisted of certain technical ideas and methods very similar to Benjamin Button. So when we were going to lose the race, the producers pulled on us… And Danny said: Don’t worry, I’ve got something interesting. It’s called Slumdog Millionaire,” recalls Anthony Dod Mantle, over a cup of tea, sitting here in Chennai, a few days before the Oscars.

He had just missed the Oscar luncheon because he had taken up an assignment with Still Waters Films for filming a television commercial on a social issue (based on “a horrific real life incident”) for the launch of a new TV channel.

“I had missed the premiere here in India and had missed joining the team when the Oscar nominations were announced because I was in the middle of the post-production for Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist. So, when Preeti from Still Waters called me out of the blue and said they had an idea – a slightly socio-political issue, something that happens a lot in your society, I agreed to do it since it gave me a chance to come back to India again,” he explains.

He has had a couple of 20-hour-day shoots in Chennai and was spending his last evening in the city before the award harvest – the BAFTA, the ASC and the Oscars were all stacked up for the fortnight and what a month it turned out to be for him.

But then, this is man who had already picked up awards for ‘Last King of Scotland’ and ‘Dogville’ and was one of the integral technicians behind the Dogme film movement of the nineties. He wielded the camera for the very first Dogme film, Thomas Vinterberg’s ‘The Celebration’ and Soren Kragh Jacobsen’s ‘Mifune’s Last Song.’ And for all that record, he’s a picture of humility when you tell him he’s a favourite for the Oscars especially because Slumdog Millionaire boasts of the most inventive cinematography in recent times.

Was it true that he shot a major chunk of the film using a digital still camera?

“Yeah, a still camera. I had this idea last year when Danny and I started talking about the energy and the vibe of the slums and we wanted to explore digital. We wanted the best and the best wasn’t available. There was a certain vividness and an amazing texture about Mumbai and I wanted to bring that out as much as possible.”

Anthony did his research taking pictures with his digital still camera and realised that he could capture a lot of detail. And since there weren’t any cameras that would shoot enough frames to make it look like a moving image, he had to get one invented.

“I developed it with Canon and it became an integral part of our language. Danny fell in love with the digital camera. It becomes a part of our body and it creates a weird sense of space. I had a gyro about the size of my telephone attached to it so that you can adjust it for smoother moves. With the gyro, we could make swishing movements without the handheld wobbling and explore these long narrow spaces a Steadicam couldn’t go to.”

Danny and Anthony had sought help from Anurag Kashyap after watching Black Friday and even hired his Steadicam operator Suneil Khandpur for a few days but they couldn’t risk sending him in to film recklessly with all the metal jutting out in those narrow lanes.

“Once you’ve read the script, you don’t come in for any other reason other than the fact that it’s a heartfelt Dickensian story about how there’s potential in everybody. The reason we used the high-speed cameras is to capture the energy – the run for your life, the run for the girl – the chase. I wanted the audience, early in the film, to physically feel it.”

Soon, the originally planned 25 per cent of digital component turned 60 per cent and only 40 per cent of Slumdog was shot on film.

“If it was done wrong, it would’ve become an effect. It would’ve become a style film and we wanted to focus on the performance and the definition. The equation worked. We experimented because of emotional reasons, not intellectual. How can we come close to the kids? How can we move past them on the street? How can we make these young actors forget we are filming?”

Anthony is full of anecdotes.

Though they shot most of the establishing scenes on location, they had to build some sets but only to make it easier for their actors. “In the edge of Dharavi, you could see children playing and swimming in that water. But we couldn’t throw our kids there. So we had to build and create a square with the washing area with clean water. And, for that toilet scene where he had to jump into the trench, our designers and builders went there… the edge of the Juhu slums, there are a thousand people there every morning. So we had to get in there, camouflage it, cover it up and then put the peanut butter for the kid to jump into it.”

And there’s the infamous Taj Mahal controversy that made him hit the headlines of a daily that printed his photograph blurred with a nasty headline about film crew attempting to steal the jewel of India. So when he recently read a review from the same paper that described the film as “a homage to life,” he wanted to put both the articles together and frame it as one picture.

Though they had permission to film, the local pressure was mounting. The tour guides were unhappy and Anthony had to shoot a few scenes on the sly with the digital camera with the kids. “Like the parts where they are nicking shoes, counting the money, shots of the guards… basically, just to get the production values in place because we couldn’t recreate the Taj Mahal. That would be expensive for a film of this scale.”

It was the transition from everybody’s favourite little kids to the older kids working at Taj Mahal that he considers the most fragile portion of the film. “We knew the audience would miss the innocent kids who are so lovable and so it was always a challenge to make that transition smooth.”

If you’ve seen Slumdog, you would think he loves those Dutch angles. Or at least I thought so.

“That’s more Danny than me,” he laughs, almost embarrassed. “I have an ongoing debate with him. I come from the Kieslowski’s school of filming – thoughtful, intellectual and spiritual cinema. I am influenced by Bergman and Fellini and I should have a reason for moving the camera anywhere in the room. But Danny does like his shots. Look at The Beach or Trainspotting and he’s quite… commercial. And in this film, I could see where he’s coming from with these damn Dutch angles and of course, I had to do it and it almost subconsciously became our language.”

I wonder aloud if he would go back to the low-budget Dogme days.

“I had made enough films at that phase that I was beginning to get into auto-pilot mode. I am not the least bit interested in going back to any style. Things die. Dogme died because it became a brand and people got greedy. For me, it was another slightly radical move back then.”

How would he describe his latest film ‘Antichrist’?

“‘Antichrist’ is a kind of camouflage homage to lots of different methods that Lars Von Trier had incorporated in his films. From the highly sophisticated, hi-tech complicated things to the roving hand-held camera which I have operated in the whole film… So, it’s a mixture of the most controlled, designed and some extraordinary, painfully managed moments. It’s a very dark, disturbing story and very different from Slumdog.”

What next after winning the Oscar, I ask him. (This interview was done a few days before the Oscars) “Stop it. I am completely unprepared. Right now, I’m just thinking about my next couple of months. I don’t believe I’m going win. I didn’t think I was going to be nominated. I always believe every time I make a film, it would be my last. I think being humble is important. So when you ask me, I’m honestly flattered. If I’m trying to be objective… Yes, you’re right about us being inventive. I think we’ve explored, I am a kind of an explorer. We owe it to cinema to keep exploring and I’m really pleased if you like it.”

Uncut: No business like Cho business

March 9, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

This is the uncut draft of the complete interview with ‘Cho R’amaswamy – only half of which was relevant to the column in the newspaper. Hence, I produce below the full transcript from the freewheeling interview and his random recollections of the city and his life.

I remember:

The Second World War was going on. Whenever sirens were sounded, Air Raid Police recruits would warn people to run into their houses. And as a youngster, I wanted to be an Air Raid warden. But who would take a seven year-old fellow? I pestered the Captain Mr. Desikachari. He gave me a cap and a whistle. One day, when the siren was sounded, I ran around the street whistling, asking people to get into their houses. One man brushed me off saying: Po da, Chinna paiyyan, what do you know? I got angry and hit him with a whistle. He chased me all the way to Mr. Desikachari’s office.

I spent the first 19 years of my life near the Kapaleeswarar Temple. We lived on North Mada Street till 1953, before we moved to Abhiramapuram and then Alwarpet.

The streets were not so cluttered back then because there were very few commercial establishments especially in residential areas like Mylapore. Nowadays, I don’t see any milkman bringing a cow to the house and milking it. That was a usual sight.

Valentines day would have never even been thought of in those days. Love affairs were very few and nobody paraded their love. Nowadays, love affairs seem to be for public consumption.

Even in films, you don’t see the hero and heroine dancing together all alone. They want a crowd of 100 people dancing with them. Like that, the common people also want their love paraded. In my opinion, it is an indecent sight… something so private, why should it be public, I don’t understand.

It’s not that the city has changed. The times have. There was less of competition. So many avenues were open. I could go to the states, I could get into films, I could get into journalism. Yes, I have been a dabbler but the times helped it. I was not taking a big risk. I could experiment. Nowadays, one cannot take a risk, you have to specialise.

As a city develops, naturally, commercial establishments will crop up everywhere.

One had more intimate friends in every locality. If there were about 60 houses in North Mada Street, every household member knew everyone else in the street. Parents of one child would take care and also be concerned about another child.

The milkman would threaten us to go and study. And we had to be afraid of him because he had a bigger say in the household than ourselves.

We used to fight over magazines – Kalki and Ananda Vikatan and the novels by Kalki (Krishnmurthy) and Devan (R.Mahadevan) were so popular. The Deepavali Malars were a great event. Margazhi Bhajanai was a big deal. Everybody used to join in. Even radio plays were a rage – Sivaji Ganesan used to act in them.

Students used to go to each others house for Vaarachaapadu, almost everyday. The trams were our means of transport. I used to get on it just for tamash. Anybody could get in and get off anytime. It never gained speed. Young boys used to do it in the tram running between Santhome and Luz. Even the police was very friendly. The crime was non-existent.

By the mid fifties, the community living system started disintegrating and maybe around the sixties, the compound wall started coming up around houses. That kind of community living is missing now. Today each one looks after himself.

Opportunities that arose shaped me more than anything else. Stage plays were a regular thing back then. There were at least about 100 sabhas in the fifties. But, I had not seen a single play. I was more interested into cricket.

I was about 15 or 16, I used to play in the third division and also got to the second division. Not because of any merit or talent but because I was tolerated in the team as a friend of everybody.

It was about ‘52 or ’53 when a friend took me to a play written by Pattu. I liked it so much that I joined the troupe that day itself. It was a light hearted comedy. I have never been driven by an ideology, thank God. Even my political plays were not born out of ideology, it was just a desire to do something different.

Originally, it was the desire to perform… after four or five plays, I started political plays. The response was terrific. Even as the sabhas came to know I was writing a play, bookings were made and dates were given. That was the kind of pull we enjoyed.

We used to hang out at the Guptas State Hotel in Luz Corner. We used to meet there, have a cup of coffee and keep talking for hours together. And Nageswara Park, we used to rehearse our dialogues and discuss other plays.

My first political satire was Quo Vadis. I used to give English titles for my plays – If I get it, Dont tell anybody, Why Not, What For, Wait and See… And one day, on the stage, TK Shanmugam said that I should stop giving English titles to Tamil plays. I spoke next, thanking him and said that the next title will not be in English…. It would be Quo Vadis. Because I had made an announcement, I had to do something to suit the title and that’s how I got into political satire. Purely by accident and mischief.

Yes, it took some time for the political parties to get accustomed to it. Especially the DMK around the late sixties, they started creating problems during my plays… the egg throwing and all that. I should thank them for it because they gave extra ordinary publicity to my plays.

But it was just parody. It was not below the belt. No one could find one indecent remark in my play. It was a something new and they wanted to put an end to it. When they were out of power, they threw eggs. When they were in power, they tried to ban my plays. This went on again and again with Mohammad Bin Tuglak, Enru Thaniyum Inda Sudandira Thaagam and so on… And after some time that too stopped.

They realised I was going to do it anyway. They had no legal grounds to stand on. I had to file a couple of writ petitions but even before it reached the hearing stage, the government realised they didn’t have a case. The media too was pro-DMK, it was the holy cow. I was among the first persons to start doing it in a big way and people came to see that.

An umpire is a neutral person, it does not mean he won’t declare anybody out. He has to be fair, that is neutrality.

Cinema can help but it cannot make a politician. Take any successful politician like MGR, Jayalalitha or Karunanidhi… They did a lot of political work before being accepted by the people. For some people, their political and film career ran parallel to each other. It was not as if they metamorphosed from one to the other. You can cite any number of instances where a matinee idol failed to make it in the political world – like Sivaji Ganesan, Bhagyaraj, T Rajendherr and now, Sarath Kumar.

I have been advocating Rajnikant’s entry into politics but I have not been able to convince him. In my opinion, he is imminently suited to being a politician but he does not agree. I have found him to be a good manager. He understands issues, he listens to others opinions to come to a decision. He has integrity. You need a huge mass base to succeed in politics and that he has. For him, this mass it will change into a vote bank.

In MGR’s case, you can’t say whether it was the party that benefited more out of him or he benefited more out of the party. It was both ways.

Films for me happened by accident. Sivaji Ganesan and Bhim Singh were going to film a play of Pattu and they came to watch it. They liked me and wanted me to do that role. I was hesitant. I was from a conservative family and nobody would’ve agreed. I did it without permission from the house. Cinema wasn’t considered to be a respectable vocation. But because of my fascination for acting and weakness for popularity, I decided to do films . After the first film, I had to leave a gap because of severe objection but S.Balachander pulled me back after I rejected a few offers because of family pressure.

Even now, the mindset hasn’t changed. People love cinema but they wouldn’t want someone from their family to do it. Even politics is looked at that way. Nobody would want his son or daughter to be a politician.

At one time, I was working like a mad person. I had given up practice because of my theatrical activity. I was a junior with my maternal grandfather Mr.Arunchalam. My paternal grandfather Mr. Ramanatha Iyer had given up law to became a sanyasi. He had written many law books. His law Lexicon is a standard textbook even today. So I had quite a good clientele but I couldn’t find time for practice and every other day we had a play. I had to give up my legal profession and that was the only training I had.

Opportunity came when i was offered Legal Advisor’s position in TTK. I grabbed the nine to five job because I didn’t have to meet clients. After that, Thuglak was offered to me in 1970 when relatives at the Ananda Vikatan group decided to launch a journal.

Things have been happening to me. I didn’t have to go in search of anything. It was because of lack of competition. I was living in better times.

(Srinivasa Ramaswamy a.k.a Cho Ramaswamy was born in Madras in 1934. Over the years, he has dabbled in law, cricket, theatre, films and journalism. He continues to be an active political commentator as the Editor of Thuglak.)

Pink Panther 2: Ash silly as she can be…

March 5, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Comedy
Director: Harald Zwart
Cast: Steve Martin, Jean Reno, Emily Mortimer, Andy Garcia, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan
Storyline: Inspector Clouseau heads a Dream Team formed to nab a thief who steals historical artifacts
Bottomline: More silly than funny, certainly not for purists/fans of the original.

I am a fan of the silly comedy genre. I think Austin Powers kicks it more than James Bond and also believe that Steve Martin’s stupid French accent alone is funny enough to merit a franchise.

But the best inside joke of the film comes from Aishwarya Rai Bachchan when she introduces herself, a good 25 minutes into the film: “Sorry, I am late. The flight was delayed by two hours. You must be Pink Panther, the famous detective. I will not be of much use here.”

Ha ha ha ha!

Classic Rai, if you have attended any press conference of hers. Walks in two hours late and blames the flight but surprisingly here, the lady has the cheek to laugh at herself, candid enough to admit she would be of no use in an ensemble like this one.

Bad make-up aside, she does come across a stunner at least for a couple of scenes – especially, the bit when she sits cross-legged with a short formal skirt with a slit, opposite Inspector Clouseau inside the flight with make-up glittering off her bust.

But that’s about all the nice things we can say about her. She imports the Bollywood brand of facial contortions and looks constipated for most part of the film and later we find out why.

Now, if you’ve read interviews speculating the length of her role, you probably already know the ending. Since I already did, I had no choice but to sit back and redeem whatever few laughs I could from Steve Martin and Jean Reno. And there’s Andy Garcia thrown in for a bonus.

Yes, French accent still makes you laugh, he’s adorable as the bumbling Inspector and even has a couple of scenes that require him to be moist-eyed. The master comedian milks the part to the last drop, relishing the role and revels playing everybody’s favourite goofball. Watch him fight the karate kids, hang out at the Pope’s (literally!) or snoop around the high-surveillance building and you know there are very few actors left who can make these things funny enough to warrant a watch.

The film is all that you expect from the Pink Panther franchise – structured as a series of familiar gags that will first humiliate the legendary Inspector, then take him to the depths of despair and until he finally redeems his reputation with an uncanny flair for investigation and solving cases.

Emily Mortimer plays the perfect foil for the unlikely hero and she’s bound to walk away with more fans than Ms.Rai at the end of it all.

Go for it only if you are in the mood for good old silly slapstick.

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