Desicritics Category: Media: Film - Actors

Movie Review: The Pink Panther 2 - Pink Diamonds And Jade

IdeaSmith — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 06:44:06 EST

After a spate of Pudinhara-inducing movies like Valkyrie (heavy: good but seriously serious) and Dilli 6 (does this city produce anything palatable??), I decided I really needed something different. So underlining my pukka suburbanite status with Vodafone Tuesdays, I found myself in a multiplex late last night, watching Pink Panther 2.

The movie was just what the doctor had ordered for my ailing mid-week spirits.

What really works for the film is that it is just implausible enough to be funny, never erring into the area of ridiculous. Also, if you missed the first Pink Panther, no worries - even with a repeat cast and plotline, the movie is complete in itself. All you need to know is that the Pink Panther is not a person or even an animal (don't scoff, I was asked that at this show and I asked the same question at my first movie!).

Steve Martin as Inspector Clouseau, gives a perfect encore with the flourishy, fumbling, funny Frenchman act. His comedy is resplete with slam-dunk-downstairs slapstick and liberally laced with lingua franca humour. He's undoubtedly the star of the show.

The movie does have a few other goodies to offer other than this talented white-haired funny guy, though. A few of the jokes from the earlier movie show up again in snide references to hamburgers and karate. I particularly loved the irritating Ms.Manners with her unrelenting demands of politically correct speech. My favorite exchange in the movie was:

She's ze kind ov' woman you have ze babies with.
Ze babies??
Yez. Lots of ze babies. All day long ze babies.

Alfredo Molina, the evil Doc Ock of Spiderman 2 makes an appearance as a Brit detective and he's flanked by Andy Garcia repeating his romantic villian act of oily-guy-who-almost-bags-girl-but-she-finally-picks-the-hero act (Ocean's Eleven). He is a perfect counterfoil to Steve Martin as Clouseau's Italian rival at work and in love. The odd thing is that the first time I saw each of these actors in their respective aforementioned roles, I thought,

He looks like an Indian!

Which brings us to the Indian who is not that woman they all want to have 'ze babies' with. Please, please stop calling her India's ambassador to Hollywood! If you must, give that title to A.R.Rehman; at the least the man has talent! But Ms.Rai? She's got a real talent for not being noticeable at all!

Yes, yes I got that she turned out to be the real crook. Could anyone miss that with the last scene having her draped in hot pink? But really, tell me just how does a hot (?) woman in fabulous clothes, surrounded by not-so-hot-guys and one decidedly drab madam in Paris manage to not stand out at all? I mean, at least as eye candy? So much for her dusky features making her look exotic, La Rai just looks tired, over made-up and haggard. All the chances for some high drama are wasted in her affected, posturing. Jade isn't just the colour of her eyes, it describes the person.

Really, don't go watch Pink Panther 2 because it has an Indian in it. Go watch it for Steve Martin and his madcap capers.

Movie Review: The Pink Panther 2 - Aishwarya, Retire Gracefully

Bubbly — Mon, 2 Mar 2009 11:56:37 EST

For the Indian audience, this one did not work. Although touted as Aishwarya Rai’s big one from Hollywood, Pink Panther 2 (PP2) sank without a trace abroad. There was not even the slightest craze in India. Consider this: the press conference wore as deserted a look as the theatrical release.

Remember the lovable Peter Sellers with whom Pink Panther was almost synonymous? What Sellers did to construct a brand, Steve Martin sinks it all single-handedly. And he is ably supported by the supporting cast.

PP2 is a sequel to The Pink Panther (2006). Inspector Clouseau (Steve Martin) must team up with international detectives to catch a burglar The Tornado. At stake is Pope’s ring and of course the Pink Panther diamond. It is a foregone conclusion Clouseau will end up catching the burglar along with his bumbling act.

With an impressive star cast of Andy Garcia, Alfred Molina, Lily Tomlin, Jeremy Irons and Aish, it should have been a run-away comedy hit. Alas it is far far away from being one.

With a wafer thin storyline and equally insipid performances, we eagerly waited for it to come to an end soon. We were not lucky. We had to suffer it.

Aish has earlier done a reel Khakee and a real-life Salman Khan act. She reprises this theme in Pink Panther 2. It is a repeat of double-crossing and betrayal.

One can’t say that her role is miss-and-blink but the role by itself is nothing much. She is the PETTY THIEF! She is trying hard to carry off a convincing ‘accent’ and admiring herself. One wonders where is the time for acting when she is so busy otherwise.

Prior to the movie, she was giving high-profile interviews about PP2 and her role. When the cat was out of the bag, she said it is not about the role but being able to work with Martin. Consider this. The producers didn’t even consider her good enough for the posters. She was missing from them. They didn’t call her for the promotional tours too as “her appeal is limited to South Asia.”

At 35+ and looking plump, Bollywood offers have dried up for her. And if PP2 is her ‘big’ Hollywood release, what can one do except pity her.

Bollywood centers on nubile nymphets (we now have Hansika Motwani, 16) and gorgeous fresh looks. And if one knows acting, that is just icing on the cake. Where is Aish on these three vital scores? She may not benefit from Hollywood but the future Indian actresses definitely will as there is increased awareness about them. One can thank Aish for that.

After acting with Amitabh as his sister in Hum Kisise Kam Nahin and now opposite fatherly Rajnikant, she can only go higher (next maybe gramps Dilip Kumar).

With her ad campaigns being bagged by younger Katrina Kaif and roles collectively going to Kareena, Katrian, Priyanka and Deepika, where does Aish find herself? Is giggling acting? Is remaining in news by criticising Slumdog Millionaire enough?

There is a shelf life for all heroes and heroines. Kajol, Karisma, and Ravina are fine examples of being fine actresses and good home-makers. Kajol is still in demand.

After PP2, a word of advice to Aish: Retire gracefully.

Irrfan 'The Mindblowing' Khan

Ankur Bhatia — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 07:06:50 EST

Irrfan Khan is not your regular hero but he is one of the rare breed of actors who can kick some serious butt even if he is pitted against your typical hero in his very own backyard. But he hasn’t reached such a stature overnight. It’s taken years of TV serials, numerous passable films and a lot of hard work. He got his first break in films with Mira Nair’s Salaam Bombay but unfortunately his scene was deleted before the release. He went on to play the role of Senapati in the famous Chankya on TV and was also seen in the award winning film Ek Doctor Ki Maut in 1991. Still, it wasn’t until 2003 that he was really noticed in India even though he did The Warrior which won the Alexander Korda Award for Best British Film.

In 2003 came Haasil, a gem of a film based in Allahabad about student politics and love which got Irrfan his first Filmfare award for the negative role as Ranvijay Singh. This was what his career needed and he hasn’t looked back since then. Over the past 6 years he has done films across various genres and played so many memorable characters. His performance in films like Maqbool, Life…In a Metro and Mumbai Meri Jaan speaks volumes about his range and talent. It was because of such performances that he got films like The Namesake and the Angelina Jolie starrer A Mighty Heart which got him rave reviews in Hollywood.

The Namesake in particular was a special performance by the man who just expresses so much by his body language that he doesn’t even need dialogues. He makes you live his character along with him which is something that can only be said for the likes of Al Pacino, Robert De Niro etc.

If people were wondering what more can this man offer, he has given us another unforgettable performance as Billu. He captured the helplessness and simplicity of Billu perfectly and did it so naturally that it was hard to believe he had ever been anybody else but Billu. Hats off to this fine actor who, in spite of not having the personality of a star continues to inspire and amaze. He is a complete superstar in my book and I hope we see many such performances.

Movie Review : Delhi 6

Aaman Lamba — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 12:14:22 EST

Rakyesh Mehra's penchant for finding the heart of gold or its core of darkness within the Indian ethos continues with his latest film, Delhi 6. This is more a montage of social and visually stimulating vignettes than the traditional straight narrative Bollywood delivers, despite its mostly linear plotline. It gets the message across, at first subtly, then finally resorting to using a hammer to ensure the audience that stayed till the last gets the point, as it were.

Recession-hit or just bored, Roshan (Abhishek Bachchan) brings his ailing grandmother home to Delhi, Delhi 6, to be precise, to fulfil her desire to die in her ancestral home and not in the strange land of her immigrant children. He discovers facets of urban India apart from the booming newTowns, and she discovers that it is no place to die, having changed despite outward appearances. Yet, the old pathways still have a way of bonding antagonists that goes beyond recent ideologies. Tribal and animistic linkages make all the difference, and Indian idols are there to be broken.

There are other random characters, happenstances, some pretty good music, and media frenzy - pigeons fly, cows deliver, and the Taj is mostly empty - the recession, no doubt. The breaking news is that this is all commonplace in the chaotic maelstrom of Delhi-6, and India rising. The rising India, though, is beset by boogeymen, demon warriors, and monkeys. This is as it has always been, yet the film takes a Western slant to reach its climax - going for a scapegoat, a sacrificial lamb, whose executioner, stereotypically enough, is a Bollywood mainstay.

The more interesting tack of offering up Bittu to the ape, Fay Wray-like, is not taken, and the subversive themes of breaking caste barriers, loose and forward photographers, etc., are barely explored, instead subjecting us to an unending array of media placement that merely serves to illustrate that most news people just talk about the news, meta-news as it were.

The superlative actors mostly serve to render their characters well, not going further, and this is the film's greatest failing - that such fine characters/actors are wasted in the quest of making an ideological point that could have been delivered in the director's commentary. Once the point is hammered in, the characters fade away, leaving us with a mostly forgettable film.

Was Vanity Fair To Freida Pinto?

Aditi Nadkarni — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 12:52:14 EST

Let me just start by saying how very pissed I am that Freida Pinto looks like a fifties pin-up model on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine. Let me correct that. A white, fifties pin-up model.

No matter what one thinks of Slumdog Millionaire, we can all agree on one thing: little La Pinto is a darling. She has beautiful kohl-lined brown eyes and a slender figure. And have you seen the legs on that woman? Now when the ample award nominations have inspired movie theaters to start showing the film again, fresh trailers appear with Rahman's upbeat score, the screen lit up with her smile. At the Golden Globes she wore a golden gown. How cute is that? At the Baftas she dazzled even more and the list of best-dressed included her name.

I waited through a string of commercials just because Access Hollywood mentioned Freida Pinto before they cut to the advertisements. They called her "the new star" and even discussed her couture for a total of 7 seconds (yeah, I was counting). Indians might find Freida Pinto a little skinny for their taste. I can already see the South-Indian film industry demanding that she wear a push-up bra before she ever decides to act again. But America seems reluctantly smitten with this debutante. I admit, it makes me happy to see a familiar brown face on the mostly color-blind American television. The only brown I get to feast my eyes on is Fareed Zakaria's and Asif Mandvi's. Anoop Desai was voted off Idol this season and so I am back to taking naps in place of evening television on the respective days.

The last time I saw desis on Access Hollywood was when during an interview with George Clooney, the "Water" team consisting of a saree clad Deepa Mehta walked the red carpet unnoticed a safe distance away from the camera's focus. I was momentarily excited by the sight of a saree on American television. This why Freida Pinto's 7-second appearance on AH made me a happy in an odd sort of way.

So now you can understand why I was miffed when I heard online rumors that Vanity Fair might have whitened La Pinto when putting her on their cover. I took a look at the said picture and whoah! She is as pale as Conan O'Brien. Her magnificent cheekbones have been flattened and the brown in her eyes no longer visible. She is wearing a red, bra-like top and what looks dangerously like a yellow slimming underwear. Her legs still look gorgeous but the glow that was so apparent on her brown face has been replaced by a white-out effect. So lets review what this means for those of us who felt a certain childish pride in watching an Indian person's face flash on American TVs. Her name is not suggestive of her heritage and now that she appears almost white, there is practically no way to tell if Pinto is from India or Sweden. I suddenly realized that the prophecy of this happening was clearly etched out in the name of the magazine itself. With a name like Vanity Fair, what were we expecting, inner beauty with brown skin? That would be such an oxymoron.

Through Access Hollywood, Vanity Fair clarified that the "whitening out" rumors were absolutely untrue and it was just "lighting". Well, in that case other magazines should take swift notes. Apparently, there is a quick tip Vanity Fair has to offer that may save them several touch-ups. You don't need to Photoshop or air-brush pictures to make dark people more appealing in America. You can just take care of it with a little bit of lighting.

Movie Review: Ramchand Pakistani

Aditi Nadkarni — Mon, 9 Feb 2009 01:03:04 EST

The name caught my attention. It is not every day that we hear the title of a revered Hindu god and Pakistan in the same sentence. I almost wondered why there hadn't be news of effigies being burnt in India based on the name of the film alone. Has the economy stolen effigy-burners of their job or were they just busy with the upcoming anti-Valentine's Day projects, I wondered. As I began to watch the movie, I was surprised that I had not heard much about this beautifully crafted story based on true events.

Ramchand Pakistani encompasses in a relatively simple plot serious issues such as social reform and border security and yet manages to engage us at times in the complex maze of a woman's emotions and then in the mixed humor that always accompanies a boy's coming of age. This is the story of Ramchand, an eight year old Hindu-Dalit Pakistani boy who strays across the border and into India at a time when relations between the two nations are strained by an ongoing war. His father runs after him like any parent would and the duo is immediately suspected of being spies or terrorists from across the border. They land in a prison in India where they are interrogated and every day their hopes of ever returning to their country slowly dwindle. Amidst this tragic tale of separation are the little stories of triumph and Ramchand's adventures.

As Ramchand grows up in a less than ideal environment, the film introduces us to some grim realities. Caste relations in India have formed the basis of historical injustice as well as current politically-charged events that grow volatile every now and then. In the rural areas the poor treatment of Dalits and the issue of untouchability lives on even as our nation plants a flag on the moon. In the cities we hardly think of these issues because they don't affect us and then a film like Ramchand Pakistani reminds us that we can grimace and fume at the mentions of our dirty underbelly but we cannot do away with the precious lives that this underbelly houses. Ramchand's identity represents irony at several levels. He is a Hindu Pakistani Dalit imprisoned in India, a pluralistic nation where Hindus make up the majority, Pakistanis the perceived enemy and Dalits, the "untouchable" lower castes who have for long borne injustice. We have found superficial answers in terms of reserved seats and quotas assigned for these deprived and oppressed classes. However, the rift formed by discrimination at a social and cultural level may take years to bridge or even longer if we refuse to even acknowledge it.

Just as the hopelessness of little Ramchand's circumstances grips us towards the intermission, the film captivates us with the most basic of human emotions. The woman, a mother and a wife, who was left behind by these two pilgrims, struggles with being separated from her spouse and longs for love. The boy grows up in a prison surrounded by the most diverse group one can imagine. Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshi all live as one big dysfunctional family, their lives occasionally punctuated with hope and despair alike.

A child in the dangerous world of adults always makes for a plot that keeps viewers on their toes. Being in a prison, little Ramchand is surrounded by adults whom society has deemed criminal and unacceptable. Knowing that the film is based on true events, I watched the film with constant questions of what would eventually happen to Ramchand and his father. Would they return to Pakistan and reunite with the woman who waited for so long to see her loved ones? Has she waited or has she moved on? Knowing that the film is based on true events, I anticipated the worst and yet was suprised by the film's ending.

Watching a film directed by a woman has always been very interesting for me. Female directors deal differently with humor and emotion in a film. Good female directors, I have noticed, are like deft chefs who balance flavor. They carefully toy with each sentimental nuance of the film, not letting one get ahead of the other. The humor is subtle and even tragedy is somewhat muted under shifting curtains of periodic triumph. The end result for a viewer can be either detached neutrality or a perfectly satisfying adventure infused with a gamut of emotions. Mehreen Jabbar, the New York based Pakistani director treats us to the latter. Cinematographer Sofian Khan compliments Jabbar's directorial genius by capturing the stark contrast of the pale scorched desert region with the richly colorful couture of the women. There are scenes within the film that seem out of an oil painting.

I will never quite fathom the politics and bureaucracy that tempers the otherwise untamed flight of art and so it is beyond my understanding why this film would not be Pakistan's submission for an Oscar this year. I must add, that the lack of an Oscar nomination and presumably inadequate publicity does not stop Ramchand Pakistani from being a deeply moving film.

Slumdog Millionaire - A Millionaire for sure but an Oscar?

Ankur Bhatia — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 00:30:23 EST

I don't want to get into the habit of pulling down the expectations of everyone but i don't even want to praise something just because its got an Oscar nomination. Having said that Slumdog by no means is a bad film. In fact its a superb film, one that takes you on a ride which is fast, crisp and exhilarating. The cast is fantastic specially the small kid who plays Jamal(junior most) along with Dev Patel and Anil Kapoor who plays the two faced host with perfection. Even the others like Irfaan Khan and Saurabh Shukla fit in very well. Also there are some scenes that will stay with you forever like the young Jamal running covered in shit to take the Big B's autograph or the eye popping beggar scene followed by a heart wrenching chase.

However the most fantastic thing about the move is its screenplay which moves between present and past with such ease and purpose. Simon Beaufoy surely deserves the Oscar nomination and so does Chris Dickens the editor of the film for such sharp work.

Also if there is something else that is Oscar worthy it is the score by A.R. Rahman which complements the happenings of the movie phenomenally well, be it O.... Saya, Paper Planes or even Jai Ho. Its funky, peppy and very apt. A special mention for the brilliant cinematography (Oscar nominated) by Anthony Dod Mantle who captures the slum streets and brothels with utmost honesty.

So now the big question, Oscar? No. Not now, not ever. The only reason that it has reached such heights is because apart from being a good film it is directed by Danny Boyle and not Ashutosh Gowarikar or Rakesh Om Praksah Mehra. I see no reason why Slumdog can be nominated and Taare Zameen Par, Rang De Basanti and Lage Raho... can't be.

One very important point. There is a scene where a driver beats up Jamal Junior for stealing something and Jamal tells the American couple that this is what real India is, and the American Couple say " We will show you what real America is like" and hand over some cash. What does Danny want to prove here? That we Indians only know how to beat up and don't have feelings? Or that Americans are so better of than Indians when it comes to forgiving someone? I really don't know but i sure would like to ask him that.

Citizen Safety and Law Enforcement

Puja Ahuja — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 13:07:32 EST

It has been decades since our country won its freedom with sacrifices awash in blood and yet I find myself questioning my liberty.

Fear stalks my path, its shadow unseen in the night. Even though I live in a city of over a million inhabitants, when I walk out of the office building to the car park, I’d rather not be alone. Because I know that there are many (I shudder to use the word human for them) who lurk in the dark recesses of unlit streets and parking lots waiting for an opportunity to give the evil in their hearts its coveted feed.

Molestation, rape, robbery, physical assault, acid attacks, hate crimes and a bullet from a crazed man’s gun are threats I face daily in the normal course of living my life. I remember these words from a book I read a long time ago- ‘the evil that men do lives after them’. The profound truth of this statement is evident in the trauma that scars the psyche of someone who has been the victim of a crime.

Why should anyone have to deal with such harsh reality? Do I not, as a citizen of a free country, have the right to go out and earn a living? The right to come home safely after a hard day’s work? The right to feel unafraid?

The Constitution promises to protect me through adequate machinery. So, I ask, where is the timely Law Enforcement Support to which has been awarded the exalted role of the ‘Savior’. In this murky world, the protector and the perpetrator have become one and I feel dismayed with the realization that I can’t trust anyone.

The police along with the judicial system need to address the issue of a citizen’s safety with the earnestness and commitment that this worthy cause truly deserves.

But how do we make this happen? By being there for each other and raising a voice for each other. How many times have we heard of the plight of victims and simply moved on to carry out our tasks for the day because in our lives the line of distinction between resilience and indifference has blurred to the extent that we fail to see any difference?

I remember reading a very touching story some time back. It spoke of an ordinary person, just like you and me, who was returning home after work and heard the cries of a girl in distress. The plea for help came from behind a bush and the man felt unsure of his ability to fight for the victim. He hesitated since he did not know whether the attacker was armed or strong. Being neither himself, the man thought it wiser to just move on. And yet a part of him couldn’t allow this to go on. So he jumped in, trusting God and his Fate to see him through. As he hit the attacker from behind, the girl was let free and he was shocked to see the face of his daughter staring at him with shock and relief.

The answer, my friend, lies with us. We have to make the right happen! I know we have come a long way but there is a lot more that we have to do. I don’t want my freedom compressed in a can of pepper spray. I don’t want to be the caged bird that sings. I want to be free to be myself, under the open sky, in a world where I rightfully have a place.

Who am I? I live in your city and I am the girl next door.

The Oscar Best Picture Nominees - A Comparative Review

Aaman Lamba — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 11:52:54 EST

Movies seem to get better with each passing year. While last year's Oscars were all about dystopian gloom and blood, this year seems to be predicated on hope and transformation, on the power of movies to make the impossible probable, and to chronicle memory through the prism of interpretation.

The 81st Academy Award Best Picture Nominees cover the spectrum from biopic to masala entertainer. They brim with heartwarming pathos while each reveals the darkness within. Each of them has a strange pairing that makes the movie what it is, from the cerebral Frost and Nixon to the tragic Jamal-Latika (or should that be Jamal-Prem?).

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is perhaps the most fantastical of them all, with its reverse chronology, and yet this device serves to give us a retrospective look at our last century, and also enables the tragic nature of ageing in the film. The unusual romantic pairing of Daisy (Cate Blanchett) and Benjamin (Brad Pitt) is itself depicted in a manner that requires great creative effort, at times from the perspective of the ageing Daisy, and at others from that of Benjamin. As he puts it on one memorable occasion, "When I had left she was a girl...and a woman had taken her place...She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen." This magic realism imbues the photography, the close-ups and the broader shots of a society in as much flux as the characters themselves. The computer generated characters are reminscent of The Lord of the Rings, more Gollum than Bilbo. Its only failing is its episodic character, not giving us any reason to appreciate the deeper meaning of Benjamin's adventures, across tramp steamers and with bored diplomat's wives. Brad Pitt's typical detachment might see him lose the Best Actor award to the far more intense Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler, or perhaps either of Frank Langella or Sean Penn from the other Best Picture Nominees.

Milk has more immediacy, along with Sean Penn's desire to be redeemed, at least in his own eyes. Harvey Milk, advocate for gay rights and activist, is portrayed with a playfulness while still revealing the bleakness and loneliness within. This is a movie borne entirely on the shoulders of Mr. Penn, although Gus van Sant has much to do with the causes and effects of his acting, undoubtedly. There is much foreshadowing of both what is to come for Harvey Milk as well as for America at large with his refusal to fit into the closet, as it were. The oft-quoted line "My name is Harvey Milk and I want to recruit you" has resonance even today, with the separation of civic life from the political sphere, and more opinionation than action. Harvey Milk takes action, and is evidently ready for the consequences. The film is shot with linear, controlled shots, done using actual 70s-era Cooke-Panchro lenses, and giving the film its 70s sheen. San Franscisco and the Castro neighborhood are as much characters in the film as Harvey Milk or Dan White, and the city's backdrop is a central part of the film's tone. Dan White (Josh Brolin) might provide the gay subtext to this film about America's first openly gay elected official, yet the indictment is more on a society complicit in the closeting of people.

The Reader takes another look at society's complictness in the events that occur within it. The movie deals with the war, already forgotten by 1958, when the story opens, and the process of forgetting. The amnesia of a nation and Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet)'s 'forgetting' to tell the adolescent Michael Berg are contrasted later, when she is put on trial for being a concentration guard at Auchwitz. Still, is it so hard to expect a society and a person to want to reconstruct their pasts to build a new life? This difficult question haunts Michael, who must choose to be the instrument of Hanna's punishment, and thereby redemption. The movie is also about the power of another form of remembering, books. The illiterate Hanna is read to, and perhaps does not therefore comprehend, by Michael, and earlier by prisoners. The coming-of-age sexuality is also contrasted with the damaged country seen around Hanna's apartment. There is a certain ham-handedness to the film, but it successfully poses its central question, and sidesteps it, by letting the viewers realize that everyone knew all along about the atrocities of the time, and chose not to speak out, much like Hanna chooses not to learn to read. Finally, the film is also a journey, from ignorance to knowledge, as in The Odyssey.

Slumdog Millionaire is another kind of journey, from rags to riches, and also from obscurity to fame. There is no forgetting involved in this film, though. The centrepiece of the film is the ability of Jamal to answer questions in a television quiz show based on seminal moments in his life. His childhood is no aristocratic idyll, a la Nabokov in Speak, Memory. Jamal is from the gutters and the film takes us through a rollercoaster ride through these social gutters, battering the characters with everything terrible and depraved that society can manufacture. He survives, pehaps by a self-imposed detachment, necessary to wade through rivers of excrement for the promised goal. The goal is ever-fluid, though, much like the film's usage of time. We are sometimes given a retrospective view, and at other times, events presage the inevitable happy ending. This recursive approach works more on the first viewing than any subsequent one. Another aspect of the film that does not quite work is the out-of-place accents of both Jamal and Salim. Jamal's Scottish tone might be explained by his days as a chaiwallah in a call center, but Salim's preppy voice is more suited for a school production of Othello. The interesting counterpoint of the film is not that between damaged Latika and the hopeful Jamal, but between the quiz show host Prem Kumar (Anil Kapoor) and Jamal. Prem sees Jamal's indefatigability as reminscent of his own, and endeavors to first sabotage it, and then undermine its validity. In the end, he is rendered an instrument of Jamal's Fates, with the final question being a roll of cosmic dice more than a memory of horrors past. The spectacular reception of the film might work in its favor, but the Oscars are home to capricious spirits themselves, from those that shut out shoo-ins from the nominations to others which spring a surprise when the envelope is opened. It is written, as Jamal might say.

Frost/Nixon has perhaps the most unusual subject in the set, with its focus on the 1977 interviews of former President Richard Nixon by upcoming presenter David Frost. The film is a talkathon, with the magic lying in the interplay between the extremely savvy Nixon and the stubborn Frost, whose career and financial stability rests on the success of the interviews. The nature of the success is ambiguous, and final victory, the admission of guilt, delivers little reward, even for David Frost, who might have gone on to television success regardless. While the superlative acting and close setting of the film have brought it this nomination, it would be more than magical if it went further.

A definite miss in the nominees is Edward Zweick's Defiance, with its hardpressed Jweish partisans, a Schindler's List in the forest, as it were. While Daniel Craig and the ensemble cast deliver a compelling performance, and most aspects of the film are very well-done, it probably lost out given its Hollywood-style fight scenes and general lack of subtlety. Another notable miss was The Dark Knight, and I would posit, the Swedish vampire movie, Let The Right One In, perhaps the best vampire flick since Interview with The Vampire.

Bollywood's Coming Of Age

Aditi Nadkarni — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 00:11:43 EST

It all started with my having given up on contemporary Hindi films. I was hopeful after Taare Zameen Par and after watching Race one depressing Sunday afternoon I didn't see the cinematic revolution I had expected. I had also figured out after a Netflixcapade that Chak De India, the last Hindi film I watched with much enthusiasm seemed a lot like the English film called Miracle, except of course Miracle was based on a true story. Having absorbed this, I went into mourning, restricting my Hindi film doses to watching for the second, third or fourth time, classics like Masoom, Katha, Ijazzat and Mandi on YouTube.

And then one day a new name, Nishikanth Kamath, stirred my faith alive with Mumbai Meri Jaan. I laughed and cried and celebrated the filmmaker who finally found Paresh Rawal a role he was worthy of. The very next day, in A Wednesday, Naseeruddhin Shah and Anupam Kher held my attention until the very last scene. I didn't yawn or fast-forward through songs. I sat, eyes glued to the screen, silently applauding two of my favorite actors who thankfully did not settle by spending their greying film years as strict fathers, the perennial villains in desi love stories. The pace was electrifying, the story original and the characters real.

In Welcome To Sajjanpur, Shyam Benegal delighted me further with a simple yet delectable rural comedy that addressed relevant social issues. A modest cast, generous dashes of humor and Shreyas Talpade's acting genius made this film a wholesome and fun watch. Madhur Bhandarkar's style of juxtaposing the real with the glamorous worked in Fashion and I was surprised to find out that the very pretty Priyanka Chopra can, if she tried, act well. More recently, in Dasvidaniya, Vinay Pathak brought a common man character to life. I soaked in this bittersweet and touchingly crafted film, directed by debutante Shashant Shah that has the potential to change how Bombay's middle class views life and relationships. I fell in love with the awkward, bespectacled and podgy protagonist.

Rock On! had me pondering about several things; about what might have happened to Indus Creed, the rock group of the 80s, about what had happened to my dreams of learning to play the guitar some day and most importantly about why I hadn't noticed earlier how very good-looking Farhan Akhtar was! It is always more of a success when one sees new faces in a Hindi film these days and realizes that it is talent being showcased and not merely a family business being passed on cause some star-kid didn't do too well at school.

In EMI, a lighthearted comic plot captured the complicated love-hate relationship between the new and altered Indian middle class and the banks that strive with relentless schemes to catch up with them. Sanjay Dutt is a natural at playing the quintessential bhai and has practically raised the standards for anyone else wanting to play a GGG (gentle-goofy-goonda) character. It was refreshing to see among other things, a more composed and consequently more sexier Urmila Matondkar in a character very different from the over-the-top hysterical damsel that Ram Gopa Verma has had her play in the past.

I saw more. I saw Johnny Gaddar, Manorama Six Feet Under and am browsing sites to see if the seemingly funny Loins Of Punjab is out yet. I am waiting for the likes of Nana Patekar, Atul Kulkarni, Manoj Bajpai to make good while these crazy times of unique plots and talented performances roll.

In the past few weeks I have watched film after film and am wide-eyed at the maverick years of cinema that the Hindi film industry is witnessing. In short, every film was unique and I imagined what the big banners might be doing. Were they scratching their heads wondering what happened to the time when the proclaimed stars and starlets would come out and claim the box office for themselves as the small budget filmmakers took home the consolation prize and maybe a Filmfare Critics' Award? Or maybe they are coming up with a formula to match the present times and create a package that has what today's film buffs need. Maybe they will learn to tap into the free advertising offered by the blogosphere where the new, the creative and the original are spoken about and exalted. Ek Vivaah Aisa Bhi tells us that the Barjatyas stubbornly choose to remain in the past and manufacture wedding videos in place of cinema. Aditya Chopra's Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi did not have a gripping story in with the times and Shahrukh's charm could not make up for the lack of chemistry between the two leading stars. None of the bigger stars have yet ventured into the emerging genre of films which may be a blessing for upcoming actors. Maybe this is their channel into tinseltown.

Finally, there are stories in Bollywood! The Indian film director is acknowledging the growing intellect of the masses and catering to it instead of recycling the girl-meets-boy plots. The mother in Dasvidaniya, the child in Taare Zameen Par and the friend in Rock On! all remind us that the "pyaar" they sing about so much in Bollywood has more faces than the two that will sing, dance, hold hands, kiss and eventually marry.

Recently, in speaking of Slumdog Millionaire, Mr.Bachchan on his blog acknowledged the age-long tryst between the commercial and art film industries in India. Films have always been viewed on those lines. What is artful and realistic was assumed not to be of commercial value since commercialism feeds on escapism. But the movies I have been watching lately have the triumphs and fantasy that escapism offers and the realistic depiction of earthy stories that art films showcase. One could call them crossover films; a genre that brings together the popularity of commercial cinema and the delicate craftsmanship of art films. What was parallel cinema, not too long ago, is now intersecting and becoming one with popular cinema. A new day has dawned in Bollywood!