N95, The Office, Prison Break, Om Shanti Om and Saawariya
Long time since I posted anything personal. So here goes.
Finally picked up an N95 over an iPhone (which certainly looks way better but there’s the threat of them turning into iBricks and that’s a risk I’m not taking) but I like n95’s functionality.
Now I can just send my stories and photographs (n95 has a 5 mega pixel camera) from anywhere as long as I have the network, without my Apple Powerbook.
This way, I have more time to spend away from the office. Speaking of which, I caught most of the episodes of The Office at the 3 a.m. slot on TV daily thanks to the season 2 re-run on Star World. Yet to see the UK version but I love the US version.
Anybody’s who has worked in an office environment would know people like these characters.
That’s also one of the reasons I don’t like to stay in the office much.
It’s ironic that people who spend more time at the office, especially journalists, believe that they do more work by just staying at the office.
Or maybe because I watch movies and write about them, they don’t consider it work. Lucky for them, I don’t consider it work either.
Now that the worst possible twist has already happened in Prison Break season 3, things can only get better from here. Recently watched episode 6 and 7 back to back and I can’t wait to download 8 after it plays on Monday in the US.
In spite of its nonsense plot, Prison Break still manages to keep you hooked with its thrills. I hated season 2 but decided to give 3 a shot because it returned to its core premise of the impossible jail break. And the new prison Sona is quite exciting too. I like the new inmates and the power play between them and the old ones but I seriously hope they don’t keep changing villains all the time.
Finally, caught up with a Tamil film. Suriya was the only guy not doing this but he’s fallen for the camera-below-the-crotch image build-up trap too in Vel.
Think the twins separated at birth plot is timeless? You will probably enjoy Vel that has nothing but Suriya’s sincerity to boast of. I won’t be surprised if it’s a big hit in the villages.
Also watched Om Shanti Om and Saawariya. But you have to read my movie blog for my reviews.
Saawariya: The fairy’s tale!
Since it’s impossible for me to review the film in my current frame of mind, here’s my interpretation of how Sanjay Leela Bhansali interpreted “White Nights” with Saawariya, the first Indian movie to pay tribute to fairies. Will put up a more serious review later in the week…
Like Rani as Gulabji tells us right at the beginning, the movie is all about a rockstar fairy.
Soon enough, the fairy with pink lips (Ranbir) comes to Blue Light Area, turns down the hottest hooker (obviously, duh!) and bonds with the sisters before telling old hag, silly Lilly (Zohra Sehgal) that he will do the Full Monty to pay his rent. Soon, music director Monty sets up an appropriate number for him to drop the towel. In America, since it’s not unusual for fairies to show their ass on screen, he got to flash. Here, apparently the Censors took it.
By now, we so know Bhansali’s sensitivity towards the mentally ill. Tired of being attacked for his melodrama, this time he shows us with sublime subtlety without never ever directly mentioning that this fairy is mentally ill (check out the Prison Break ‘Haywire’ expression when fairy does Masha Allah) and sometimes stalks random chicks with backless blouses waiting at the bridge.
One night, the fairy thinks he has met his twin when he spots Sakeena waiting under an open umbrella when it’s not raining. Though initially hesitant, Sakeena soon recognizes him to be a fairy and thereon, feels safe with him. In no time, they are hopping over patterned potholes and bonding like sisters.
Sakeena: Fairy likes that name so much that he wants it. He practices signing her name in all the walls of Blue Light Area before climbing the pipe to get home to sleep on top of the piano because he can’t find his football. Yes, we forgot to mention this fairy likes to use balls for a pillow.
Fairy wants to bond some more with Sakeena too but she prefers to wait at the bridge for her lover appropriately called EMan, the virtual lover who in spite of his absence turns her on and makes her sleep-row her boat to the bridge.
When fairy learns about EMan, he’s consumed by jealousy. Sakeena had a boyfriend. He didn’t.
Fairy turns evil and burns the letter Sakeena writes for EMan and then secretly goes to find EMan himself with the hope of tracing him in the hotel she had mentioned. But no such luck.
He returns without getting laid. Feeling lonely, fairy tries to pick up regulars at the club as he teaches Sakeena to dance to Saawariya with the hope of brainwashing her to forget EMan. No such luck either.
Fairy then goes back to hook up with hooker Gulabji who has played his conscience all through the film. She kicks him out hoping that would help him get over his denial and come out of the closet.
Sakeena ends up with EMan.
Fairy, on seeing EMan finally, is heartbroken.
It was love at first sight for the fairy. But Sakeena bitch finally got her EMan.
All she left back for him was her umbrella.
And, now Fairy continues to wait at the bridge for his EMan.
Amen!
Om Shanti Om: Om-My-Gawd! Nothing’s Sacred!
Genre: Comedy
Director: Farah Khan
Cast: Shah Rukh Khan, Deepika Padukone, Arjun Rampal, Shreyas Talpade
Storyline: A junior artiste from the 70s is reborn as a superstar to avenge the death of his lady-love.
Bottomline: Time Machine! Gets you past 150 minutes in no time.
They call it the climax for no ordinary reason.
Because, by definition, it is the single highest point of the film’s glory, the culmination of all the great moments generated, including the resolution of conflict and the point where boy finally gets the girl.
That’s probably where Om Shanti Om stumbles.
The climax of OSO is anything but the film’s glorious high, the culmination, though via a cheeky twist, works out to be an anti-climax and the ‘Happy Ending’ that we have been promised isn’t as happy as we would have wanted it to be, especially at the end of the most hilariously entertaining moments of political incorrectness in the history of Hindi cinema.
Om Shanti Om is a light-hearted tribute to Hindi cinema the way we know it and love it, in spite of its flaws, improvisation and implausibility. It is also a premeditated celebration of willing suspension of disbelief, as one of the characters reacts to SRK when he tells her she won’t believe it if he told her about his rebirth. She talks for most of us Hindi movie buffs when she says: “I believe you when you say you can beat up ten guys, I believe you when you say you can jump from top of the building… Why would I then not believe you when you tell me this?”
Believe it or not, you better buy this tale if you want your popcorn to disappear before you know it.
Right at the very beginning when Rishi Kapoor in silver pants dances to the original ‘Om Shanti Om’ from Karz, Farah defines where they are coming from. From the audience. As fans, seeing the song and dance routines of the seventies and picturing themselves right there, taking nothing seriously.
So even if she’s getting a Manoj Kumar duplicate chased around with a lathi, or in all probability mocking Bhansali with a spoof showing a lover with multiple disabilities of eyes, ears and speech on a wheelchair with no arms to push it, using his mouth to spit out the flowers on his unrequited lover’s wedding or coming up with digs at Abhishek Bachchan for his ghost appearance in Dhoom 5 or poking fun at SRK for doing the same thing in different movies and getting nominated, Farah also neatly ties it all up right in the end sparing not herself either. She walks down the red carpet at the end of the movie to find the audience has already left the hall.
That’s what irreverence is all about. The ability to laugh at everybody, including yourself.
Nothing is sacred, anything goes. As long as it can make someone laugh.
This is a film that works so well because of the free-flowing improvisation, the way scripts used to be written in the seventies (in fact, scripts are still improvised and made up as they shoot for a majority of the films produced). But that’s also why the final act seems like an after-thought.
It’s almost like Farah got this great idea for a twist in the tale and just slapped it right at the end after setting it up for the great glorious revenge saga we are anticipating with all the Karz references.
Honestly, we as the audience don’t care too much about how the bad guy gets his cheeks kicked as long as the love story is neatly wrapped up and the ‘Happily-ever-after’ follows. Which is why we are bound to be a little let down at the abruptness and the drama in the end. Revenge does not dish out the feel-good factor. Love does.
That’s why we go to such movies, especially, the ones where SRK does the same thing over and over again.
That apart, the movie is a hell of a party, a bits-and-pieces blockbuster strung together with a series of laughs, songs and dances. And, stars of course.
SRK shows us why he’s the rockstar of our era. Deepika is the next hot thing. Shreyas with little to do is still an endearing performer and Arjun Rampal should’ve got a meatier role. Kirron Kher with horrible make-up in the second half gets to reprise her Maa role and even says exactly the same line from ‘Main Hoon Na’ (Yeah, yeah… we noticed the movie poster in the room when she does that!).
The score gives you goose-bumps and Farah shows Bhansali what a musical really needs apart from great music: energy, style, soul, drama and the laughs surely help.
Don’t take this review seriously, Farah sure as hell is not fishing for compliments. Like Om Kapoor would say reading criticism: What the fish!
Go dancing with the stars. Go Om Shanti Om.
Jab We Met: Dilwale Dulhaniya of our times
Genre: Romance
Director: Imtiaz Ali
Cast: Shahid Kapoor, Kareena Kapoor, Dara Singh
Storyline: Suicidal boy meets chirpy girl on a train and change each other’s lives forever.
Bottomline: Sweet little love story
How good can a Shahid Kapoor movie possibly be?
You will be surprised watching ‘Jab We Met.’
It not only gives Shahid a break and a role that helps him out of his Shah Rukh Khan hangover, it also exploits Kareena’s bubbly persona to make an author-backed role one of the most memorable characters in recent film history.
In spite of its predictable plot, the film is refreshingly natural and full of life (with plenty of help from cinematographer Nutty Subramaniam), with director Imtiaz Ali having a flair for dialogue, especially in bringing out larger-than-life elements from relatable characters set within a realistic sensibility, in a way that it reminds you of what the Chopras used to be, till they made Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge and eventually deteriorated to assembly-line productions.
Coming to think of it, Jab We Met is even what Barjatyas used to be: With great emphasis on writing, creating beautiful bonds that developed into love, milking the emotional connect and feel-good from a sense of family and friendship, drenched in the innocence of every day life and the warmth of simple people with simpler needs: love.
The first half is completely The Shahid-Kareena Show as they brilliantly anchor the film with their natural chemistry of the opposites, reminding you of Linklater’s ‘Before Sunrise.’ She meets him on the train on the verge of suicide, infuses some life back into him with a little humour, optimism and infectious dose of energy (déjà vu Elizabethtown?), before continuing her adventure of a life whose sole mission is to run away with the man she believes she loves.
The parts immediately after interval slow down proceedings but the film does find its way back to the plot eventually when the couple connects back with each other.
It is a delight to watch this young couple be themselves.
Shahid does a great job when he’s underplaying his suicidal depressed mood though his chirpiness still seems a little awkward and forced while Kareena pulls off the role of her career with her chitter-chatter chirpiness to the degree of likeability – the way Hema Malini did as ‘Basanti’ or Sonali Bendre did in ‘Sarfarosh’.
Can’t wait to watch more from Imtiaz Ali.
No Smoking: How many ciggies can a pack hold, K?
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: John Abraham, Ayesha Takia, Ranvir Shorey, Paresh Rawal
Storyline: A chain-smoker is coerced into quitting by a mysterious, dangerous rehabilitation centre.
Bottomline: You can’t smoke without a match, can you?
There are many ways to light up.
Many years ago, they used to rub stones together.
Then came matches.
And soon enough, lighters.
There are many ways to express.
Many years ago, they used to scribble on the walls with stone.
Then came paint.
And soon enough brushes, canvas, paper and film.
Evolution. All to make life simpler for us. Ready-made solutions. Assembly-line productions. To make sure we save time. Walk in, walk out. Be entertained. Smile.
Until, we ushered in the era of designer-wear, tailor-made solutions customised to suit individual tastes. Multiplexes. Boutiques. Galleries. To give art a platform. To make people think. And appreciate.
Anurag Kashyap has gone one step further and made a film meant for the future.
One that will appeal to a select few. Could be immediate family. Friends. Pet. Or maybe just for his nicotine stick to enjoy it while it lasts. Before it turns impotent and becomes ash.
No doubts about it at all that John Abra-born-to-ham, Anurag Kashyap, Vishal Bharadwaj and Kumar Mangat deserve five stars for effort and the decision to attempt a genre that nobody in the right mind would have dared to produce.
Anurag Kashyap comes up with a truly brilliant idea that borders on genius and ruins it only because he tries too hard. Imagine, you have rolled up the perfect joint… And instead of just smoking it, you get adventurous. You try lighting it by rubbing stones together just to prove a point.
But K, the brilliance of abstraction always lies in simplicity. No matter how complex you want the construction of semiotics to be, no matter how layered you want the thoughts and statements to be, the overall idea behind the entire process of expression needs to be a fairly simple one. To put it simply, we don’t care how you light your joint as long as you don’t ruin the joint itself.
For the benefit of all those who swore at the screen at the end of the film demanding for a book explaining the film, here is my most charitable guess at what was in Anurag’s joint in the first place.
The film is trip into the mind of a smoker who has been forced to quit. He is made to pay by cheque (i.e. a heavy price that seems unreasonable), threatened by a Baba who has three ‘Sri’s before his name (Art of Living anyone?) about the ill-effects of his smoking… That first, his family would be gassed (i.e. he would be endangering his family’s health by forcing them to inhale poison gas, a metaphor for passive smoking), his fingers would be chopped off (that he will cause himself bodily harm by his continued stint at smoking), his beloved would die (they would leave him) and finally, his soul too (his body will incinerate and he gets no chance at redemption). And that his salvation or healing lies in his ability to make more people give up smoking.
The plot from Stephen King’s story Quitters Inc aside (maybe it is pure co-incidence that Cat’s Eye treated the addict’s urge to smoke with a surreal hallucination sequence), if you’ve seen Vanilla Sky, you will guess the signifiers hinting lucid dreams and the nightmares to follow used within the first ten minutes of the film. If you’ve seen Lost, you will get the whole Alice in Wonderland trip down the tunnel (there’s also the Lost Season 2 score reproduced just to re-emphasise the homage). If you’ve seen Hostel, you will get an idea about this dangerous cult that targets people and makes them sign a telephone directory-thick-contract book, which if you’ve seen Bedazzled, you would connect with the deal he made with the Devil. If you’ve seen Mullholland Dr., you will get an idea of the signifiers employed and be able to deconstruct why Ayesha Takia is Annie and Anjali (who he wants her to be and who she really is compared to who she was and who she becomes in Mullholland Dr.) and so on…
Hence your success in deconstruction of the film is directly proportional to how many films you have seen that Anurag has. There is a good chance that, given that K has seen many films than the average J.
The fact that he’s further coded the film to include a personal parallel with his life and the film industry (by equating smoking to radical ideas that the system has asked him to quit to ensure the financial health of his producers and family and inside jokes/references to writer Abbas Tyrewala) only adds to the number of signifiers and metaphors used in creating the abstraction with some of them not quite fitting the context.
As a result of this semiotic diarrhea, No Smoking is reduced to video graffiti drawn by a disturbed individual after repeated visits to his video library, thanks to his movie addiction. The more the signifiers, the more sketchy and amateur the artistry.
The extra ‘drags’ in No Smoking kill you before it all kicks in.
Moral of the story, K: Now that you know that this kind of smoking is injurious to your health and soul, hopefully, you will keep in mind what you need to light it up. An audience. And, a match would really help. Strike to connect. Illuminate.
I didn’t think much of Eli Roth until I read this…
“Failure, in my book, is someone who lives in the safety of their laptop taking shots at those who actually achieved what they have been unable to do.”
That’s one of Eli Roth’s personal quotes, thanks to IMDB.
Recently saw Hostel 2. If Hostel gave me the creeps, Hostel 2 made me laugh.
Hostel 2 has to be the grossest movie ever made! I have to confess though… I didn’t exactly hate it! 😀
Ranvir, Vinay aur That Four Letter Word
This happens to be our most fun experience on national television and the most embarassing one. The talk show with Ranvir and Vinay was a blast. It was recorded on the same day as the India-Pakistan T20 final.
Cary and me were in the dressing room watching the last two overs of the match before the show trying not to get stressed out by the fact that we hardly spoke Hindi, only to get all the more stressed by that high-tension thriller…
As the Pakistanis needed 13 of the last over, the entire crew of Ranvir Vinay aur Kaun including the hosts stormed into the green room. And you can imagine the excitement.
Even the normally cricket-indifferent Cary was all hooked to it and Ranvir turned cynical after the six. But soon Misbah hit the shot he will never ever try again all his life as Sreesanth caught it and the room erupted with screams and celebrations…
What a way to start the shoot…
Yes, it was a sentimental shoot for Cary, Ranvir and me because Ranvir had been part of the film since 2002 ever since I met him and Cary for an interview when they were both VJs. We had come a full circle and now Ranvir was interviewing us.
Truly an honour!
Thank you Ranvir Paaji and Vinay… You made us feel at home and never have we enjoyed digs at us more!
And thanks Darshan, for being the official TFLW TV show tracker/recorder.
There’s more on That Four Letter Word at the official site.
Just out: Reviews of Bhool Bhulaiyaa, Laaga Chunari, etc.
Just found time to post online my reviews of Bhool Bhulaiyaa, Laaga Chunari Mein Daag and Licence to Wed, Wrong Turn and Resident Evil 3: Extinction.
You check out these reviews and more on my movie blog.
Bhool Bhulaiyaa: The case of the missing marbles!
Director: Priyadarshan
Cast: Akshay Kumar, Shiney Ahuja, Vidya Balan, Ameesha Patel
Storyline: A newly-wed couple try to dispel notions of a ghost in their haunted mansion only to find themselves caught in its spell.
Bottomline: Priyadarshan loses it in translation
Genre: Thriller
If bad remakes amounted to murder, Priyadarshan’s a serial killer going by his track record, box-office figures notwithstanding.
How bad a filmmaker should you be to stay so faithful to the screenplay of the Malayalam original ‘Manichitrathazhu’ and yet churn out such horror?
At least if the filmmaker had to deal with changes/touches/twists to the tale, you could’ve blamed it on the screenwriter. But here’s a film that stays as close as possible to the screenplay of the much-acclaimed classic and yet falters, purely because of its execution. By execution, I also mean CAPITAL punishment for us viewers.
It is an ordeal to sit through the first one hour of ‘Bhool Bhulaiyaa’ and its attempt at comedy. Because, in this segment, even the usually dependable Paresh Rawal’s timing is all bollocks and you end up giggling only when you are supposed to be scared.
While the original was rooted in a credible rural milieu with an endearingly believable bunch of village simpletons who are convinced about the presence of a ghost, Priyadarshan’s take is filled with his regular inventory of caricatures – Rajpal Yadav in yet another ‘Chottey’ avatar, Paresh Rawal bumbling around like an idiot, Asrani hamming it up… you get the picture?
Add to this, there’s the phenomenally expressionless Ameesha Patel to hoot at.
Akshay finally makes his entry ten minutes before interval and gives you something to look forward to: The over-priced popcorn.
Jokes apart, Akshay is the only entertaining proposition of the film, using his seasoned comic flair to keep the proceedings light, carrying what’s left of the film on his able shoulders. Vidya Balan has two left feet and Shiney Ahuja’s sincerity shows in the scene where he breaks down. What a long way he has come since Sins.
Where Bhool Bhulaiyaa fails and Manichitrathazhu scores, is in the filmmaker’s ability (or inability, in this case) to set up a face-off between science and superstition. Fazil played a gripping mind-game with us keeping us guessing on what was causing all hell to break loose – was it really the ghost or was it someone with a dissociative identity disorder?
There were many cues thrown around in Manichitrathazhu, some to mislead, some to distract and some to hint and help you participate in the guessing game. For all his claim to have worked on the film, Priyadarshan doesn’t even seem to have got hold of the basic idea behind the film: a science-meets-superstition-based-thriller where parapsychology and exorcism flow seamlessly into the narrative.
While we can understand P.Vasu’s commercial considerations that made him ignore these finer aspects and just dumb it down as a Superstar film for the masses, Priyadarshan’s claim of being faithful to the original is superficial and unreal, just like the film he has made.
‘Bhool Bhulaiyaa’ is yet another example of a classic lost in translation, another victim of Priyadarshan’s obsessive compulsive urge to make a career out of other people’s films with only buffoonery for a USP.
MADRAS INK. 