• SUDA MING’S CHANNEL
  • TALKING FILMS
  • Good Night | Good Morning
  • My Talk Show
  • PROFILE

MADRAS INK.

Menu

  • Archives
  • Columns
  • Diary
  • Interviews
  • My Films
  • Reviews
  • Good Night | Good Morning

  • Word thru the bird

    Tweets by SudhishKamath
  • Connect with GNGM

    Connect with GNGM
  • About GNGM

    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

  • Browse: Categories

  • December 2025
    M T W T F S S
    1234567
    891011121314
    15161718192021
    22232425262728
    293031  
    « Dec    
  • Recent Posts

    • Simmba: A departure from the formula
    • Zero: The hero who wasn’t
    • Protected: AndhaDhun: What did that end mean?
    • Love and other cliches
    • October: Where is Dan?

Posts By sudhishkamath

Billu: This barber needs trimming

February 15, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Priyadarshan

Cast: Irrfan Khan, Shah Rukh Khan, Lara Dutta, Om Puri

Storyline: A poor hairdresser becomes the centre of attention when his long lost childhood friend, now a superstar, checks in to his village for a film shoot.

Bottomline: Stay far away if you’ve seen the original or even the Tamil remake

 Warning: If you’ve seen the earlier versions (Katha Parayumbol in Malayalam and Kuselan in Tamil), and haven’t had a hair-cut in months, watching Billu may make you pull your hair out.

Apart from Irrfan Khan’s magnificently subtle performance and Shah Rukh Khan’s larger than life onscreen persona, there’s not a single strand of sincerity in this lazily made patch-work production that’s looks so obviously staged.

The film’s fake as a synthetic wig.

Not that we are looking for realism in a story based on folklore (the Krishna-Sudama friendship), but right from the setting, nothing seems genuine – it is difficult to imagine locations seen so often in Tamil Cinema (the kind you usually associate with Chinna Gounder movies) inhabit the same world as the horribly kitschy North Indian set. The villagers talk in a curiously old-fashioned filmy dialect and the cast (but for the Khans) goes gloriously over the top.

Lara Dutta personifies everything wrong with this film. First, it’s an over-dramatic portrayal that’s clearly artificial. Second, she speaks a language she can’t speak well enough. Three, she sports a backless choli that’s a little too sexy for us to believe she’s a goat-herd/milkmaid. Four, she’s got kids that don’t look like her or their father. Yes, the only thing that looks 100 per cent poor is the casting.

Ironically, the superstar’s larger-than-life world looks considerably realistic, even if he’s shooting for a lost-and-found Matrix-meets-Star Wars film, flashing a light-saber. But for that one grin and a maybe couple of SRK quips, the film fails to evoke any response, until the last fifteen minutes – the famous speech scene in the end.

Shah Rukh does reasonably well, probably getting emotional a tad too early in the speech compared to Mammooty or Rajnikant who kept it together for most part of it and broke down only towards the end. Irrfan on the other hand, delivers another one of his masterfully controlled and finely nuanced understatements, letting his body language speak more than any dialogue could. But then, whoever did the score, underscores the sentimental scenes to ridiculously soap operatic levels that after a while it is difficult to appreciate Irrfan.

Billu is ‘Filmed by Priyadarshan,’ the credits tell us.

High time a filmmaker of his experience actually directs his actors and the flow of the narrative instead of just filming it (simply translating it from paper to film). It is impossible to believe this is the same director who made ‘Kanchivaram’. The lack of direction in Billu is shocking to say the least. Sample the scene when a riot breaks loose on the sets of the superstar’s film after someone randomly slaps a policeman at the barricade when they are refused permission. Priyadarshan films it exactly as it reads and makes P.Vasu seem like Spielberg.

Billu may still work for those who haven’t seen the earlier versions of the story and kids who are Shah Rukh Khan fans.

But for those of us who like our hair, the film once called Billu Barber ought to be trimmed. By an hour and a half please.

Dev D: De-Generation Next

February 14, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Anurag Kashyap

Cast: Abhay Deol, Mahi Gill, Kalki Koechlin

Storyline: Modern day Devdas with sex, drugs and rock ’n roll

Bottomline: A coming of rage interpretation that demands to be watched

 Whatever Anurag Kashyap’s been smoking all these years must be some stuff. What else can you say about the audacity of thought and the psychedelia of vision as presented in his Dev D.

Paro (Mahi Gill) goes down in Hindi film history, even if it’s just off-camera, as the sexually liberated lover taking her Devdas to the third base in the fields of Punjab, the sort of location where Chopras and Johars would usually orchestrate innocuously chaste love songs.

Because, Anurag Kashyap and Abhay Deol have decided that Generation Next has a new favourite four-letter word and that it certainly isn’t love. Dev D is wildly about lust, the hormonal rage of youth and sexual expression than just candy-floss sugar-coated love we’ve been shown in Hindi cinema. It’s also about the politics of sex, the volatility of modern day romance and the avenues of escape when a relationship fails.

The references to Devdas are just an excuse for the makers to explore the refuge of the modern day loser because this isn’t a story of a man who everybody shut their doors on. This is a story of a lover responsible for his alienation.

The definitive difference in Dev D is illustrated when, early on in the film, he nearly gives in to his animal instincts and stops halfway out of guilt. He seizes the first opportunity to suspect his girlfriend of infidelity and that’s more than enough for him to finish what he started out – bed the seductress.

The modern-day loser is more chauvinistic and conservative than all previously seen Devdasses. But the best part about Kashyap’s Dev D is that his women wear the pants and know their way around it too. They are all messed up and products of dysfunctional relationships. The complexity of characterisation and the non-linearity of the narrative (Kashyap uses chapters like Tarantino – Paro’s story, Chanda’s story and finally Dev’s – the cause, the effect and the journey of escape) certainly makes it the most interesting of the Devdas movies.

The actors deliver these characters and that’s half the battle won. Abhay Deol is dormantly explosive and intense, getting increasingly moody and consumed by character deeper into the film. Mahi Gill’s graph has her shift from being the hyper-emotional drama queen to portraying an unsettling amount of calm and Kalki Koechlin’s lucky to let her physicality do most of the work demanded of the role. From being a picture of innocence to a sassy sex worker who chooses her clients, Kalki acquits herself credibly in this feminist take on the tragedy.

Anurag makes this character-study richer opting for stylisation over realism, letting the camera (Rajeev Ravi) trip and music (Amit Trivedi) take control of the proceedings and the second act of the film is inventive storytelling at its best.

Where the film fumbles is right at the start. Dev D employs a tone that seems to be screaming for your attention – like Paro photographing herself naked and getting it printed (hasn’t she heard of email?) or the slutty seductress following up “Do you have a girlfriend” with a line that’s desperately trying to win the frontbenchers over with: “So have you guys done it yet?”

Half a movie later, she decides to replace ‘it’ with the actual verb while telling him that’s all that he wants to do and our Dev D shoots back: “Don’t you?” much to the excited cheers of the crowd that’s not used to such language in a Hindi film.

But for such cheap tricks (and there’s plenty of stuff to just shock the pants off the prudish in the hall), Dev D is a fairly classy film. Hell, it’s a classic and a cult one at that, if you pardon its juvenilia.

Black Friday was too academic. No Smoking tried a little too hard to trip. But with this mix of intriguing entertainment, he’s arrived. You can take a seat right next to Nagesh Kukunoor, Mr. Kashyap. It’s not everyday a filmmaker gets away changing the end of an epic tragedy and still explores the idea behind it, perhaps even more than the original. 

Beeban Kidron: Five years after Bridget Jones

February 12, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

After wrapping up production of the Cillian Murphy-Sienna Miller starrer, ‘Hippie Hippie Shake,’ the British filmmaker who helmed ‘Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason’ was cooling her heels in India like any other backpacker, travelling by bus, going from one little town to another.

Last weekend, Beeban Kidron was in Chennai. “It’s a private visit,” she begins the interview. “I just got back after visiting schools around Belgaum and Mangalore, Karnataka.”

So, did she find material for a film based in India like her countrymen did with Slumdog Millionaire?

She laughs. “I’m a friend of the writer Simon Beaufoy. I am very pleased with its success. I am very interested in the debate going on here about the film. You know, in a year when there have not been too many entertaining movies, it is fantastically entertaining as a movie. So whatever smaller issues there are, I think we have to celebrate Slumdog. I am a filmmaker, so I am always looking for material.”

Her latest film ‘Hippie Hippie Shake’ is based on the memoir by Richard Neville, the editor of Oz, who along with his staff was put on trial in the sixties for bringing out a sexually explicit issue, after the radical Australian satirical magazine launched in London.

“The film is in post-production. Most of the characters shown in the film are still alive and the producers are keen to show them the film and sort everything out. Which is why I am suddenly free and had a month to do something very, very different,” she says explaining her Indian holiday.

Beeban Kidron strongly believes in education that delivers inspiration rather than just literacy. That’s the reason she founded FilmClub along with her friend Lindsay Mackie. “People communicate through the telling of stories, not through literacy. There’s a lack of aspiration, a big problem among children. Hundred years of cinema from around the world is a great tool. The idea behind the FilmClub is to share stories. From Duck Soup to Hotel Rwanda, movies that are not on anybody’s radar are changing their lives. I have 30,000 to 40,000 children in these clubs and I am going seven times that number in two years from now. When someone has something to dream of, something to aspire for… if they can imagine something, then they can work towards it.”

Five years after the Bridget Jones sequel, how does she look back at the film?

“You know it’s great to make a movie that’s so enormous. I love Renee Zellwegger. She’s a fabulous person but more than that, she’s a really, really talented actress. I do feel that if movies were made they were in the 1950s where we had fantastic roles for women and they banged them out instead of rolling out one every two years, she would have been our Betty Davis, she would’ve been one of the women who would’ve dominated our cinema.”

The film opened to scathing reviews but the $70 million on to gross over $262 million.

“Yes, the critics weren’t kind. There were some things I wanted in the movie that came out and there were things I didn’t want that went in but when you make a big movie, you don’t control the last mile. It’s a deal you make with the devil. As a director, when you make a film at that level, you know there are a lot of vested interests. But millions of people saw the film, millions enjoyed the film. The critics were bound to hate a film that was going to cash in on the success of the first film. How could they not hate it?”

The big films she does give her the access to do the small things she wants to do – like the FilmClub or her last documentary project, Antony Gormley: Making Space. “It took me nine months to make that film about a sculptor who wasn’t known and had a thin audience. Hippie Hippie Shake is more mass-based. It’s about freedom, about the sixties, about standing up… the accidental hero sort of a thing. It’s Cillian Murphy’s film really. But I like doing both.”

So films like Bridget Jones are necessary evil?

“Thank you very much. You want to end my career? I’m on holiday,” she laughs. “It was a privilege and a pleasure to do Bridget Jones. Being in the mainstream gives me the opportunity to open another door.”

She doesn’t believe in the notion of cinema being different in the West and here in India. “It’s just that Bollywood uses a language alien to us. Danny Boyle took the Bollywood idiom and gave it to us in a language we understood, made it more sort of naturalistic and look at the response. Also, the idea of that film is very strong. You measure your population in billions. Imagine the competitiveness. The notion of the competition holding you back is very political. I saw Mother India a few years ago. And it was one of the greatest films I’ve seen in my life. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like that again.”

She begins another anecdote about Gordon Brown talking to the students of the FilmClub when he was the Chancellor. “He gave them the normal politician speech and told them he had just been to India and had met this huge Indian star… I forget his name (probably Amitabh Bachchan) and suddenly, the room went ‘Woohooooo’. It was amazing to see that kind of response. Bollywood may not be the dominant thing for the chattering classes in London but in that place, in that classroom, on that day, there was no “West” in that sense. We are all closer than we know.”

Luck By Chance: Rock On, Akhtars!

February 5, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama

Director: Zoya Akhtar

Cast: Farhan Akhtar, Konkona Sen, Rishi Kapoor, Dimple Kapadia, Isha Sharvani, Sanjay Kapoor, Hrithik Roshan

Storyline: Two struggling actors try to make it big in Bollywood and discover a few truths about life at the dream factory.

Bottomline: One of the best films of our times.

 

First, thank you God, for letting Zoya make this movie before Bhandarkar got a chance to apply his formula of realism and show us his take on the film industry.

Luck By Chance, from the house of the Akhtars, is one of the best macroscopic films of all time. And, a fantastic ‘micro’ film too that goes behind the scenes of industry-associated clichés to give us an insight behind common myths and machinations of the film industry.

It works magic simply because this is not just an exercise to simply critique the business (the Bhandarkar brand of innocents eaten by the big bad wolf of an industry – Chandni Bar, Page 3, Corporate, Traffic Signal, Fashion, Jail and so on) but it does make some earnestly solid points while painting us the larger picture.

This isn’t just a spoof or a parody (like Bollywood Calling or King of Bollywood), though the subtlety of the satire is too delicious to ignore. This isn’t a shameless celebration (like Om Shanti Om or Jaaneman) but it still pays tribute to the workforce. This isn’t an overtly indulgent, romanticised look at the people behind the scenes either (like Sudhir Mishra’s Khoya Khoya Chand).

Zoya does to our cinema what Cameron Crowe did to rock with his largely autobiographical ‘Almost Famous’. And, this is no less a film than Crowe’s masterpiece while giving us a ringside view of the dream factory and the beauty of Zoya’s effort is that she also takes us intimately close and deep into the minds of all those who are a part of it. She sets up her characters as a silent observer, reveals their dilemmas and lets character come out of actions and decisions than just dialogue.

Zoya refuses to judge them – whether it’s the producer who sleeps with his starlet or the struggler who gets seduced by the newfound glamour of the business – and it’s these shades of grey that always make characters fascinating and seem so real.

Right from writing and casting, this film is one stroke of genius after another, especially with the way the filmmaker has chosen to employ her guest artistes from Aamir Khan at the start to Shah Rukh Khan at the end. Hrithik needs to be lauded to play a role so close to his real self that many a time, the lines between Hrithik Roshan and Zafar Khan seem blurred.

But it is Zoya’s eye for detail and sensitivity as a filmmaker  that sets her apart from the rest of the Bollywood brigade. Sample, the quick glance of a worn-out shoe sported by a struggler at the audition or the ease with which the protagonist lies that he does not have a girlfriend with a nubile star-daughter in his bedroom and his subsequent encounter with his girlfriend.

Farhan Akhtar is a class apart and establishes himself as one of the finest actors around, employing intensity and understatement to make up for projection and energy demanded of the job though it would’ve been nice to see him go over the top in the film within the film. It’s a delight to see Rishi Kapoor revel in his role of an old-fashioned, good-hearted superstitious producer and the ever-fantastic Dimple is borderline self-deprecatory, playing the star-mom and bringing the house down with her ‘Oh-I’m-still-the-most-beautiful-woman-in-the room’ antics.

Isha Sharvani’s innocence, radiance and sex appeal make her instantly edible and the girl’s come a long way from the ‘Tarzan-dance’ days of Kisna. Konkana’s performance makes us want to give her a long, warm hug and strangely, you even feel Sanjay Kapoor is capable of being a decent actor, given the right filmmaker and role.

Right from cinematography (Carlos Catalan) to Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s music to art direction (Abid T.P), Luck by Chance seems to be put together by a dream crew. Maybe it’s destiny or just pure luck that everything comes together so well.

This ode to Bollywood is the must-watch film of the season.

And, Javed Saab, thank you for giving us your kids. They continue to rock on.

Tammannah: Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon

February 1, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Happy Days are here for Miss Padikaathavan, who did her Kalloori when she was still in school.

Soon, we will get to see this Ayan actor opposite Suriya do her Ananda Thandavam. We will then see her with that Paiyya, Karthi.

Tammannah is also doing the Jab We Met remake with Bharath, Raja Rani. The teen will soon turn Queen, backed with a little love and a little hard work (Konjam Ishtam, Konjam Kashtam in Telugu). She has no dates till July, we learn.

“When I began, I had hoped that someday, my schedule would be this busy. I am enjoying the pace,” she says.

No surprise considering that’s a quick learner. “For my 12th exam, I got 64 per cent. People spend a whole year studying for it. All I had was barely 15 days to prepare. So yeah!” she grins.

Having made her debut at 13 and a half (no kidding, she played the leading lady) in Hindi, this child prodigy has been living out of suitcases at Hotel Green Park for four years now. And now, she’s doing B.A. Economics by correspondence.

“Yes, I don’t get to attend college like the other kids. But I think I am doing something more interesting, something I am very passionate about. Beside since my Mom’s or somebody from my family is always with me, the emotional support has been great.”

Growing up, whose shoes did she want to get into?

“Madhuri Dixit was somebody I always looked up to,” she says flashing that 1000-watt smile she seems to have perfected from her role model. “Some people say that I look like her. When I was 13-14, I didn’t know I was going to look like her someday. But now, I feel that I have to be me, I have to search within and find myself.”

Girls from the North have always made it big here.

“Maybe because there are many more girls in Bombay and Delhi who have grown up on Bollywood and they see it as a career option. Here, I am not sure if people see acting as a career choice.”

Tammannah realises that in a male-dominated industry, she has to strike a balance.

“I can say I have been fortunate to get films like Happy Days, Kalloori, Ananda Thandavam, Paiyya, Konjam Ishtam Konjam Kashtam and commercial films like Padikathavan and Ayan. I want to do a little bit of both… Like the ‘Jab We Met’ role in Raja Rani. Indian cinema is male dominated. I understand that, I am OK with that but I want to do my own thing.”

Which is why though her Dad manages her career and Mom accompanies her to shoots, she’s the one who chooses the scripts herself in an industry where nothing is hard-bound.

“I’ve always been a given a pretty decent narration about what the film is about. That gives me a more instinctive view. Sometimes, the narration is too vague and sometimes, it is vivid.”

What if the script changes as they shoot, a common phenomenon in Tamil cinema?

“As for any actor, it all depends on how grave the change is. For example, I don’t do kissing scenesI it’s there in my contract. So, all of a sudden the director can’t decide to add a kissing scene. But, my directors have been very professional. I understand when my scenes have to be taken out when they are killing the pace of the film.”

She believes that learning on the job is the real thing.

“I was into theatre for eight to nine months when I started out. I did experimental theatre. I have performed on stage and I am sure trained actors do more than that but I’ve been lucky to work with fantastic directors like Sekher Kammula, Balaji Sakthivel and K.V. Anand early on in my career.”

Being young, does she ever feel intimidated?

“When I first acted with Suriya, I was very nervous during the first two or three days. I am a huge fan. I could not believe I was working with him. But when the camera starts rolling, you even forget who you are. You have to become someone else.”

Tammannah doesn’t let criticism bother her either. “A review is a perception of one person. Films are meant for people and different people have different takes. My critics are Mum and Dad, I take them very seriously and they give me honest feedback.”

Tanvi: A Dose of Vitamin T

January 16, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

After Slumdog Millionaire won four at the Who’s Going Home With The Golden Globes, we make Tanvi, who sang two songs including the much-acclaimed ‘Jai Ho’ for Danny Boyle’s masterpiece, take the hotseat and shoot a few questions of our own.

“Why are you talking to me,” she shoots back. “Talk to Rahman. It’s his time,” she adds, quite flummoxed by the fact that her phone hasn’t stopped ringing since. She wonders why. “Life has changed. Suddenly, people are calling me. But, I’m glad my hard work is paying off.”

She had no idea that she was driving towards a life-changing twist, on her way to Rahman’s studio to sing some backing vocals for a song that she thought was meant for Subhash Ghai’s ‘Yuvraaj.’

“I went in a heard Sukhi’s voice and I was in awe of the notes he hit. And Rahman said: Go in and try something different. Think out of the box. Throw your voice out loud like no one’s around to listen. I couldn’t believe he wanted me to sing and the challenge was that I had to match up to Sukhi.”

Tanvi also wrote the Spanish bits for the song, given her knack of adapting to demands of songs that require foreign sounds. In the past five years of singing for Rahman since she did backing vocals for Fana in Yuva (“It was on May 13, 2003,” she remembers), she had been to the studio for all kinds of singing.

“I love doing backing vocals for him because every time I go in, I come out learning something new,” says the singer who also officially trained under Augustine Paul.

Apart from ‘Jai Ho,’ she joined BlaaZe for Gangsta Blues for Slumdog. “Rahman’s brief was simple. He said: Go wild.”

After that initial burst of easy questions, we shift to the million dollar ones: Having followed and worked with Rahman for the last five years, does she truly believe that Slumdog Millionaire is his best work till date?

“My favourite is Rang De Basanti and Bose – The Forgotten Hero. This particular score is good no doubt but I’ve heard better from him. But that’s because from an Indian audience point of view, we’ve heard so much. I don’t think Hollywood has heard his music. Take Bombay, Thiruda Thiruda, Iruvar, Guru or Bose and the scores he has given for those films… If you listen to Azaadi or Jaage, you will get goose bumps. Or Swades and Lagaan. You put all these songs on one side and then you put Slumdog and what do you think? Recently, we worked on this movie called Ada. That movie, you must listen to the choir. It was a super duper difficult piece. I’ve noticed in the last couple of years, he wants to push himself trying out new sounds. He would say: I want a Bulgarian voice, I want a screaming voice, I want to hear Andalucian mountain women, I want a high pitched voice, I want a whisper that breaks into a full-throated voice and then go nasal.”

That’s where singers like Tanvi come in to play.

“I can give Soprano, Tenor, Base and Alto all by myself. There are times when I’ve done that but there’s an amazing chemistry when we sing in a choir. Jai Ho was done in a couple of hours,” she recollects.

Tanvi only realised that the song was going to be used for Slumdog much later.

“I went in for some recording and I asked him out of curiosity if he had retained my voice in Jai Ho?” And he’s like “Of course. Gangsta Blues also. I was like “Thank you, Thank you, Thank You. I was so happy. After five or six years, you get to sing for a Hollywood movie, would I be excited? Hell, yeah. Now that the film has won four Golden Globes, I feel elated, I feel happy and I’m glad that I’m at least .25 per cent of it.”

Tanvi also sings for Yuvan, Premgi, Srikant Deva, GV Prakash. “I’ve done quite a bit of work with Yuvan,” says the singer who can sing in 14-15 different languages.

“Whatever I am today, it is because of Rahman. Four things I learnt from him: Dedication, Determination, Patience and to be humble. Without these, you can never grow.”

And yes, like most of India, she’s yet to watch Slumdog Millionaire herself. “I’ll watch on the 23rd when it releases.”

 The Business Woman

“I have my own business. I have been doing interior design for the last one and a half years. And my jewellery line is out. It’s called Exotic Store. I wanted to give a funky name like Vitamin T. Someday, I am going to do a song and Vitamin T is going to come out.

If I keep singing, you tend to lose it. You need a distraction. I am lucky to have two professions. I just put my heart and soul in whatever I do because I realised life is too short. If I don’t do it now, when the hell would I do it?”

Flashback – Life before singing

“I did Masters in Ceramics and I didn’t like it much there in the US as a graphic designer in the World Bank. I came back in 2003. Life in the US is monotonous. You are working Monday to Friday like a dog. And you only get to meet up with friends on Saturdays. They drink and wake up with a hangover on Sunday. Someday, you have to do your groceries, laundry… You are not saving any money. All your money goes off on credit card, shopping, parking. When I was there, I would just sit by Georgetown (in Washington DC) and keep sketching because I was an art student.”

Memories of Madras: K. Balachander – When Directors Wore The Pants

January 15, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

It was around 1950 that I first came to Madras as an apprentice clerk in the Accountant General’s office. I have been living in Madras since. I am unable to call it Chennai. Old habits die hard.

In those days, we were used to talking only in English. Even today, when we try to slip into Tamil, it is very difficult to cut short the usage of English words.

Madras has played a tremendous role in my career. It gave me a platform. I used to participate in skits, cultural programmes and the farewell parties at the AG’s office.

Major Chandrakant was done in English because the AG was from Bengal. I myself did the role of the Major.

Later on, I developed it into a two-hour play for the Sabhas and Sunderrajan did the Major’s role. All his life he was called only Major Sunderrajan.

It played at Mylapore Fine Arts Club. People like Cho and other oldsters in theatre owe our allegiance to Mr.Rajagopal of the Club who used to encourage drama and theatre.

The rivalry was between professionals and non-professionals. The professionals at that time included TK Shanmugham, S.Ve.Sahasranamam and Sivaji Ganesan too had a troupe. But our troupes made of non-professionals were called amateur dramatic troupes.

The response was excellent, there was no disturbance from cable TV or satellite. Though it was not profitable, it was satisfying.

We used to put 50 rupees each and make a play. We would’ve spent about 600-700 rupees to make Major Chandrakant. We would receive about 200 rupees from the sabha after a lot of bargaining. But the thrill kept us going.

The film business was as disorganised as it was as it is today. We had more discipline then. The producers those days were sound producers – take SS Vasan, AVM, Nagi Reddy or L.V.Prasad… Jupiter Movies, Modern Theatres had their own studios, they were sound producers. Today, people who have call sheet of stars become producers overnight.

Opportunity came in the shape of MGR who wanted me to write. He had Hindi film with him, and we had to make changes because it was MGR. MGR is a phenomenon, you can afford to make a mistake with MGR. If you have to make a film for him, you have to write it like it was MGR’s dialogue not like a character’s dialogue. Today, every star wants that.

Even Sivaji did not dictate terms to anybody. Once he has accepted the story, he would simply obey the director. I did one film with him. He was very co-operative. With MGR, I would have to buckle. It was difficult for me. So later on, when I was asked to do an MGR film, I wriggled out of it giving some silly reason. MGR knew that.

I had decided to be independent and have my own identity. I thought I will take the cause of women and have my own identity and it was something not explored by any director. I would sit in a small room in my rented house and discuss it with my friends at the beach.

As a bachelor, I lived in Mambalam and then, in Triplicane and after getting married, I shifted to Gopalapuram third street, one street away from the CM’s house. Even then, Kalaignar was a big hero for me. I used to pass that way just to see him.

The Gopalapuram playground was a popular hangout after six p.m. Otherwise, we would spend time with friends by the Marina or Elliots Beach. We never went to restaurants or cafes because it was a question of money. Minerva was the only small AC theatre around showing English films. I saw most of the black and white classics at the Elphinstone Theatre.

Our social lives revolved around discussing theatre.

No, I did not have a girlfriend. Romance or love was not discussed. It was not our cup of tea. It is something which is divine and I could not afford to have it.

On today’s roads, everybody seems to be a romantic. Those days, it was possible only among a certain group of boys and girls. You can only see them, write about them and imagine how they feel but we couldn’t do it ourselves.

Of course, when I was in college, we used to pine for girls but that was not love. Just a sneaky glance and that’s where it ended.

Nobody ever knew who was loving who. Affairs were always kept a secret and there were few and far between.

Divorces too were rare and women rarely stepped outside the family system which is why some believe I was ahead of my time in dealing with stories like ‘Arangetram.’

* * *

K.Balachander

Born in 1930, the veteran filmmaker came to Madras in 1950 from a small hamlet near Tanjore. Though theatre started as a hobby, he was all consumed by his passion for storytelling and emerged as the critically acclaimed auteur who gave Tamil Cinema two of its biggest stars – Rajnikant and Kamal Hassan.

His banner ‘Kavithalaya’ continues to churn out blockbusters till date as the man himself has taken over the small screen over the past decade.

I remember:

In the night, if I spotted a policeman, I would get off and walk along my bicycle. My cycle didn’t have a dynamo. It was costly.

I would get back on the seat only when he’s out of sight.

One day, the policeman laughed at me.

Out of habit, I had got off even during daytime. 

Slumdog Millionaire: Street-Smart Debonair

January 5, 2009 · by sudhishkamath

Ever felt what it is like to be the last person to have seen the most talked about film of the moment?

A few hours after landing in New York and being greeted with “What? You haven’t seen it?” from over a dozen different sets of people in less than a week (Yes, it took us a full week because we were there for a more pressing matter – making our own movie), I thought it was time to find out what the noise was all about.

Judging by my last experience of catching a film at the cinemas in America (‘Burn After Reading’ by the Coens opened to a handful of people), I didn’t think there would be too many people in the hall to watch a film made in India six weeks later after release.

To my surprise, it was almost a full house. In the US, a full house is always a big deal because that happens very rarely during a weekday. The film hadn’t yet picked up the Globes (that would happen a week later), so it was pretty much the underdog film that was generating plenty of word-of-mouth.

So was the trip to Angelika Film Centre in New York worth every bit of the $12 ticket?

Well, the film does not give you any time to analyse or evaluate. Which could probably explain the four-on-four score at the Globes.

Like in Trainspotting, Danny Boyle’s characters are on drugs. Almost. Cinema has that effect on us Indians and Boyle seems to know that too well. And the slums of Mumbai is a great place for his protagonists to go tripping on the dream factory.

The tickets to Escape-City are through the lost lanes of Mumbai and the crowded halls of Hindi Cinema. In the context of modern day India, fables are manufactured as reality shows.

And, according to Boyle, there’s just one man who represents the Great Indian Dream. The Anti-Establishment Angry Young Man-turned-Demi-God who then became a system itself playing Dream Merchant as the face of the Indian version of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.

Though Boyle has his “Slum-Dog” spell it out as Amitabh Bachchan, it is unfortunate that he could not convince His Bigness to play himself. And it’s understandable why Bachchan Senior would have turned it down. He would’ve played his fictitious real self, borderline evil and given his larger than life persona, there was no way he was going to risk his image getting lost between fact and fiction.

Surprised that the unlikely contestant from the slum knows all the answers, the seemingly charming host of the show during a loo-break decides to “help” the underdog by leaving the mirror was a finger-written alphabet (trying to imply that B. was probably the right answer, the one from the multiple choice that will help him make his million). You have to watch the film to feel the goose flesh and to find out what happens next but for now, just imagine Bachchan doing the role and leaving the ‘B’ behind and contrast it with the autograph he signs for the slum kid earlier on in the film (we only see Bachchan’s left hand scribble a quickie) to spawn a generation of fans.

The point is that Slumdog is no ordinary masala film but it pretends to be one and almost convinces us that it is a product Ram Gopal Varma and Fernando Meirelles put together in a hurry under pressure from producers who wanted them to make something like Satya, Company and City of God all in one movie.

The brilliance of Boyle’s masterpiece lies in the subtext, the context and the layering of the intellectual, the subversive and the irreverent. Which is also why it works at various levels.

Though it may just be seen as a pure masala escapade in India and the subtext may be entirely ignored given our sensibility and the gratification we seek from our cinema – Escape.

Many of our arty critics here may even be tempted to call its outing at the Globes a fluke because of the “lack of realism or logic”, but that’s only because we are desensitised and even underwhelmed by the clichés and chaos of Indian cinema.

But for the rest of the world, it’s everything they almost knew about India and its cinema told to them in a way they could not have ever imagined.

It’s seemingly candid, energetic and edgy, raw and reckless.

It’s life as seen by an urchin sprinting through the slums of a nation that likes to lose itself in cinema.

A nation that is proving to be debonair with its street-smartness in a world where information is power.

A nation where dreams and reality could both be larger than life and cinema itself.

Best of 2008

December 31, 2008 · by sudhishkamath

This year was about friends and enemies. Stories about individuals revolved around relationships and films with social issues used terrorism as the backdrop.

Overall, 2008 brought with it a lot of fresh blood.  Debutants rocked Hindi cinema. Homosexuality came out of the closet. Small films with a big heart won us over as star power fizzled out at the box office.

Usual disclaimers apply. For the record, this is a purely personal list that in no way reflects box office performance. Nor is it based on compilation of reviews, ratings or popular opinion.

 

No. 10:

Dasvidaniya

Though Vinay Pathak delivers one of the finest performances this year, this inspired piece of filmmaking hopes to exploit the dreams of the lowest common denominator with its eyes on the mass market and ends up using every single trick from the Bollywood book of drama – the Maa melodrama, the dost-dost-na raha syndrome, the Deewar polarization, unrequited love among others. Almost a classic.

 

No. 9:

Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi

This twisted tale with a dark, psychotic subtext should have been rightly called “How To Mess With Your Wife’s Head.” But you can’t deny that Adi Chopra creates some fine moments in this Spiderman-like-tale of the Indian Superhero as the tribute to Indian cinema – Raj, the Mohabbat-Man who can make any girl fall in love with him. Add to that the magic of Shah Rukh Khan to it and you have a Timepass film that simultaneously celebrates the actor and the star.

 

No. 8:

Bachna Ae Haseeno

If only this didn’t take itself so seriously, this well-written film with some warm moments and a refreshing cast is fun for most parts till the sentimentality and the songs take over to ruin it for us. This ‘Broken Flowers’ meets ‘My Name is Earl’ romantic comedy undid the damage Saawariya did to Ranbir Kapoor and the music kept us thoroughly entertained. Also, the leading ladies weren’t bad at all.

 

No. 7:

Tashan

Purely for the vision of the filmmaker to go all out and make a film that celebrated the masala potboilers of the eighties – that era when cinema was devoid of all logic and villains always had a den full of men with guns who couldn’t aim for nuts. What Tarantino-Rodriguez did with their Grindhouse double feature, Vijay Krishna Acharya did with Tashan and reworked the Saif-Akshay magic. Kareena’s size zero did zero for the film but good old Anil Kapoor rocked as Bhaiyyaji.

 

No. 6:

Tied: Mumbai Meri Jaan/ Aamir/ A Wednesday

If it wasn’t so repetitive and redundant in parts, Nishikant Kamat’s film would’ve been higher up the list (lower down this column). Mumbai Meri Jaan does not try to present any convenient solutions but shows us the impact of terrorism on modern day society in a country as complex as India from different perspectives, almost breaking our hearts before uplifting our mood with the subtlety that we are not used to in Indian cinema.

While Aamir’s brilliance was in the layering of its political content around a simple plot shot credibly in the backdrop of Mumbai, A Wednesday’s background detailing worked in a tight thriller that pitted two of our finest actors against each other. Not to forget the cleverly concealed twist. Three of our most relevant films, as good as the other.

 

No. 5:

Oye Lucky Lucky Oye

Just for Dibakar Banerjee’s conviction to make a film that respects the intelligence of the audience with his figure-it-out-yourself storytelling that gives the Answers first, Questions later. It’s a difficult genre to even attempt and Dibakar does great with Abhay Deol and Paresh Rawal. The Delhi-loving filmmaker roots it in the heartland of India and signs it off with his simple, authentic and realistic style of filmmaking that continues to reflect the dreams and aspirations of the Great Indian Middle Class.

 

No. 4:

Mithya

This grossly under-rated film is almost flawless but also too niche in its appeal. Ranvir Shorey shines in one of the best performances this year and Rajat Kapoor mixes up the sweet and the sour and pulls the right strings between comedy and dramedy with a simple matter-of-fact sensibility you can relate to in this fascinating twist to the ‘Don’ plot. The best art-house film of the year.

 

No. 3:

Dostana

This is a subversive masterstroke, only that the country is in complete denial about the possibility that its too leading men, who are the epitome of all things macho – one, a Ladies Man with chest hair and the other, a homophobic metrosexual – could be gay. That last scene when Priyanka asks the boys if they ever felt anything while they were pretending to be gay, both these guys think about that kiss they were forced into and suddenly, they cannot look at each other. Cut to a song that begins with the introduction: “I am the voice from the sky… Your son is gay” over the end credits with visuals of its two men singing and dancing with gay abandon only to end with a “They lived happily ever after.” It made the family audience including kids share a few jokes about homosexuality.

No. 2:

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na

No doubt it liberally borrows from Hollywood’s classic romantic comedies, it also incorporates all desi ingredients needed in a coming-of-age film for boy to become man. With some fantastic characters, Abbas Tyrewala makes a delightful debut as a director and introduces the new Khan on the block, making a film that will be remembered fondly by a generation pretty much like how some of us relate to Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, Maine Pyaar Kiya or Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa or Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander.

 

No. 1:

Rock On

For overall brilliance and all-round achievement in cinema. Never has a film on aborted dreams been so uplifting. A perfectly cast ensemble, power-house well nuanced performances, music that rocked the charts, cinematography so alive, fresh and energetic, great writing that captures modern day relationships as we know them, an editing style so tight and seamlessly taking the narrative back and forth in time and a solidly credible authentic film on the state of Indian rock. It may sound like Dil Chahta Hai meets Jhankaar Beats on paper but as far as execution goes, Rock On is the film of the year.

 

The Others Who Almost Made It:

No. 11: Roadside Romeo/Bhoothnath – Great stuff for kids

No. 12: U, Me Aur Hum – A promising debut by Devgan

No. 13: Jodha Akbar – Despite Hrithik and Aishwarya and the never-ending length

No. 14: Halla Bol – This one almost worked

No. 15: Bombay to Bangkok – A fantastic, gutsy experiment and a cult film of sorts if you’ve just been to Bangkok.

The Some That I Missed Watching:

My apologies to the makers of Welcome to Sajjanpur, The Last Lear, Sorry Bhai, Tahaan, Before The Rains and Halla.

 

Dasvidaniya: Say Hello to the happy tragedy genre

December 17, 2008 · by sudhishkamath

Genre: Drama
Director: Shashant Shah
Cast: Vinay Pathak, Rajat Kapoor, Ranvir Shorey, Saurabh Shukla
Storyline: On discovering he has stomach cancer, an ordinary man makes
a list of things to do before he dies.
Bottomline: Half a classic

The tragedy about Dasvidaniya is that though it is a collection of great touching moments with a fantastic Vinay Pathak in a career best role, as a whole it falls short of being a classic. Hoping to cater to a larger audience, Dasvidaniya is shamelessly manipulative, milking the theme dry for sentiment.

Here’s the List of Things to Do writer Arshad Syed and director Shashant Shah came up with to make this movie as savvy as it could get for the lowest common denominator, deriving from Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

1. The It’s-All-In-The-Name Hypothesis. Call him Amar. It’s a cult
Hindi film name. Poetic for a man who’s dying. Cast the lovable Vinay Pathak in a role that’s been tried, tested and known to be effective by even less talented actors like Jimmy Shergill. If Jimmy could move you to tears in Munnabhai, imagine what Vinay can.

2. The Bad Boss Factor. If he had an evil boss who gave unreasonable deadlines when Amar is on his death-bed, it gives a chance for a conformist to put his feet down and rebel. People like to see the common man screw over the system.

3. The Great Indian Middle Class Aspiration. To buy a car and become upwardly mobile and hope that this would entirely change your life.
But does it really? Pack that angst into the film.

4. The Unrequited Love Syndrome. Which is more effective if Amar has been in love since his school days. If a full-grown man like Vinay could extract sympathy, imagine what a chubby little boy can do. Borrow that heartbreaking scene from Castaway. Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) goes to meet the love of his life only to find her married with
a kid and walks out in the rain and the camera stays on him long enough inside the car to move us to tears. Add a little Hindi film melodrama there (Read Kuch Kuch Hota Hai). Like a dumb charades game to profess his love. Vinay Pathak could be quite a killer here. (And he is!)

5. The Escape Methodology: What do you do when you reach a dead end? In a Hindi film, you take a flight to a foreign location for a little song and dance. It’s there in every common man’s list of things to do. To go to a place he’s never gone before.

6. The Dost Dost Na Raha Paradigm: What if you flew miles to meet your childhood friend and you are misunderstood? This has to be an equation where you have always shared everything with him and insisted he had the bigger piece.

7. The Devdas Effect: What if Chandramukhi was a Russian hooker? What could be more bitter-sweet than to find love just when your life is about to end? Heart-choking huh?

8. The Deewar Polarisation. Have one successful brother who has everything but Maa, a contrast to Amar, the other dutiful son with nothing else but Maa, cancer and a list of things to do. To make sure people get the tribute, throw it in casually with Suresh Menon doing a spoof.

9. The Maa-melodrama Staple. It’s most exploited if Maa also has some sort of a disability. Have a montage that underlines the mother-son bond having Amar sing ‘Mumma’. We know how ‘Maa’ songs work, especially after Taare Zameen Par.

10. The Immortality Paradox. Everyone wants to be famous even if it’s just for a day. And the obituary space is as far they get. Not too many people get to plan their funeral. Make Amar the exception. Now, that’s poignant.

Page 25 of 90 « Previous 1 … 23 24 25 26 27 … 90 Next »
  • Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • MADRAS INK.
    • Join 480 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • MADRAS INK.
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar