Desicritics Category: Media: Films

Movie Review: Dharm - Unfairly Snubbed

Aditi Nadkarni — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 06:39:00 EST

Dharm, a Sanskrit word that for some means duty and for yet others signifies religion. We often hear this word used by religious preachers and at other times by leaders of political parties looking to pander to the majority Hindus in India. This term was heard when a mob needed some sort of a philosophy to bind them as they went about adhering to no scripture, driven by fury alone.

This film tells the story of Pandit Chaturvedi (Pankaj Kapur), a well-respected and stringent Hindu priest who adheres strictly to the writ words of Hindu scriptures. The pandit provides key religious advice to the families residing in the holy city of Benaras, at the banks of river Ganga. The touch of a low caste prompts him to bathe in the holy waters and his wife (Supriya Pathak) has to cleanse herself before she prepares his meals. Then one day an orphan left at their doorstep makes his way into their lives and warms the heart of the otherwise stoic and unyielding priest. Little Kartikeya grows up, his adoptive father's pet, performing religious rites, reciting verses alongside his beloved "babuji". His innocence remains untouched by the mounting communal discontent that occasionally disrupts into religious riots between Hindus and Muslims in the city. Amidst these tensions, Kartikeya's birth mother shows up to claim her son. As she walks into the pandit's door clad in a burkha, neighbors and patrons gather to watch, aghast. The boy is sent away with his Muslim birth mother in a heart wrenching scene, his cries are drowned in the enormity of the religious calamity that has fallen upon the priest's family for having adopted a Muslim child. The pandit's home is promptly cleansed, severe religious penances are performed and yet the priest's inner struggle continues, eating him up inside. He is torn between the love he feels for the child he sent away in a heartbeat and his duty towards the religion he represents. As the self-proclaimed protectors of Hinduism crazed with vendetta unleash violence through the city, this Hindu priest defies all that he has valued and reaches a revelation that changes not only his own life but of those that surround him and revere him.

When watching the film, the sensitivity with which each scene had been conducted immediately suggested the touch of a female director. Bhavana Talwar's handling of the characters is remarkable. She seems to have identified real people rather than characters for her film. Whether it be the staunch Pandit, his obedient wife or the child that tugs at your heartstrings, Talwar takes her time with each persona. Pankaj Kapur's performance is a testimony to the neglected and yet prodigious talent our film industry houses. An actor who has given us films like Ek Doctor Ki Maut and Ek Ruka Hua Faisla continues to loyally work in the shadow of a giant, the all consuming commercial film industry that allows little to no platform for performers like him. Hrishita Bhatt, stands out in the role of a young girl who falls in love with a foreigner seeking spiritual guidance under the tutelage of Pandit Chaturvedi.

This film is excruciatingly moving. It forces one to empathize with characters who in our every day lives we could never relate to. The religious discontent juxtaposed with the innocence of a child offers a stark contrast that leaves one emotionally and spiritually exhausted. The blood shed and the inciters of these harrowing incidents that swallow our cities are all revealed, their intentions, insecurities and motives scrutinized. The upholders of religion are exposed and so is the true character of those whose spiritual awakening finally leads us out of darkness. This film is not about the chaos that hatred leads us into but of the humanity that pulls us out of it, unscathed.

I found this film on Netflix after I searched for films starring Pankaj Kapur, one of my favorite actors who I have not seen since the Blue Umbrella. Having watched this film, I was so overcome with curiosity at never having heard about it before, that I did some quick online searches for it and found out what sounded like a joke, an April Fool's prank. How I was not aware of this blunder committed almost three years ago is beyond me. Apparently, this spectacular film about religious relations in India that is especially relevant in today's times was passed over as India's Oscar submission in favor of, get this, a mediocre film called Eklavya starring Amitabh Bachhan and Saif Ali Khan.

Eklavya had all the makings of a commercial film and a story with as many holes in it as Swiss cheese. It was a glossy entertainer with great cinematic visuals and the beautiful backdrop of Rajasthan and yet was most certainly not a moving film with a global appeal. All it had was an established and commercially viable star cast. Yet it beat out a film like Dharm which won our National Award and the Nargis Dutt Award for a film promoting national integration. It is even more shocking that our media and our audience does not create adequate hue and cry over such blatant unfairness by the subcommittee that decides the film that is submitted for an Oscar. In a film fraternity that goes weak in the knees at the mention of the name Bachhan, local awards are hard to come by for such films as well. In the year that Eklavya was sent in as India's official entry to the Oscars, brilliant films such as Dharm, Vanaja and Black Friday stood as major contenders and were duly ignored. I wonder how these filmmakers must feel when their masterpieces are dismissed in this manner by their peers in the arts and performance industry which should ideally define a haven for nurturing talent and relatively devoid of political corruptness. Who are these people on the committee that send out films on behalf of an entire nation? Year after year they send out stories, that to a foreign audience represents us Indians. I do not know enough about the process that goes into nominating a film for Oscar submission but the selection of films such as Heena, Jeans, Devdas and Eklavya would suggest that these members are not qualified to be making decisions about what kind of a film would be appreciated by a universal audience and that at times their decisions seem to be motivated by inexplicable political derivatives. Have of them watched an Oscar winning foreign film?

An Oscar may not define our successes in cinema, but the submission process and the errors, political gaffes or unscrupulous actions committed during the submission process sheds light on why the largest film industry in the world has still failed to make it's mark as far as world cinema is concerned. In Ek Doctor Ki Maut, Pankaj Kapur plays the role of a doctor who through years of hard work comes upon a major medical breakthrough. His elation at having made this groundbreaking discovery however is short lived when he realizes that his jealous and less talented peers have decided to snub him and are making every effort to ensure that he does not receive credit for his work, much like the committee that decided to ignore Talwar's superb effort.

Movie Review: Nishikanth Kamath's Dombivali Fast

Aditi Nadkarni — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 15:20:37 EST

Nishikanth Kamath rose to fame with Mumbai Meri Jaan, a film that depicted the struggle of the middle class caught in the complex mesh of terrorism. The terror unleashed by a bomb lives on, deep in the most vulnerable sections of society. One by one his characters introduced us to the people in these pockets of our city, the ones who carry both, the fear and the hope that drives Mumbai.

But his debut film, Dombivali Fast, a critically acclaimed Marathi piece of genius escaped notice. The language I am sure was a limiting factor for viewers outside Mumbai but few realize how relevant the subject matter of this film is for every person frustrated with this mysterious, monster like entity that we refer to as the "system", that bulldozes our lives and puts our ethics and morals to test every single day. Madhav Apte (played by Sandeep Kulkarni), the protagonist of Dombivali Fast is a bank official responsible for ensuring that all documents are accounted for in the passing of a loan. He is a father of two, a husband and a citizen of Mumbai, caught in the daily rut that this city spins around one's life. He is a regular good guy, a man who battles and survives the harrowing commute in Mumbai locals and then emerges at the other end willing to put up with water and electricity shortages. But he has a major limitation, a challenge that in India does not bode well for a middle class man. His principles are forever in his way, be it getting his daughter into a good school or a hospital admission for a beggar boy he is trying to help. And one day something in him breaks. His anger finds expression. He moves through the city like wildfire, sending panic waves through law enforcement and starting a debate among the general public about whether he is a Robin Hood, a psychotic, a victim or a criminal who should be put behind bars.

Dombivali Fast is not just an engrossing film, it holds a mirror to the lives most of us have led in India. Nishikanth Kamath, the debutante director speaks through his film, through each of his characters. As Kamath's own anxieties, experiences and revelations about the city and the system come flooding through the screen, you recognize them as your own. Through a simple story of a perfectly ordinary man, this young director forms an extraordinary kinship with his audience. Our commercial film industry seeks relentlessly to form this very bond with us but through a drug like addiction of escapism. Kamath frees us of this addiction in the most versatile of ways. He seems to have decided that when he shows us our own stories, we want to know what happens next. How will we end up in this tale, he makes us wonder. Will we be the survivors, the victims or the fallen, forgotten vigilantes? And that sentiment is what keeps us glued until the very end of Dombivali Fast.

I have been on that very local train. Dombivali Fast was my daily ride to college and back. I have been cramped inside a small, ladies compartment, trinket sellers on one side and the burkha clad women of Mumbra station with their many children on the other. I have hung outside the door, the breeze freeing my nose of the stench of fish and replacing it with a medley of some other unwanted smells. It was less than a twenty minute ride. But right from getting aboard this train to successfully disembarking at my station of choice became an experience, an education in itself. I learned something new every day, about myself and about those who shared that journey with me, until one day I somehow became one with that train, its rhythm matching that of my heartbeat. Watching Dombivali Fast reminded me of both, the melody and the cacophony of that rhythm.

Shiv Sena vs An Actor

Priyank Chandra — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 16:34:25 EST

Shah Rukh Khan, a Bollywood actor spoke his mind, and a political party went berserk. A movie, My Name is Khan (MNIK) got a lot of attention and the media decided that unity in India had reached the brink of a complete breakdown at the hands of some goons.

While I certainly do not condone the actions of the Shiv Sainiks, I do believe that this controversy has more sides to it than the media has attempted to stuff down our throats.

When two countries are in conflict but not yet at war, the first step that most countries take is to impose a trade embargo. It is a natural step to take because the countries need to make a stand and hurt the other country in the only peaceful way possible.

In this context, not allowing Pakistani cricketers into our country to play a sports tournament is simply an embargo on the export of human labor. A trade embargo which is meant to prove a point. And this is really what Shiv Sena is demanding albeit in a rather disruptive manner. And it does make sense in a twisted sort of way.

Of course we had not 'not allowed' them. They were just not picked by teams who strategized keeping in mind a lot of factors other than brutal nationalism. A lot of business reasons culminated in an auction where the Pakistanis were not picked. It was basic economics at work, without the need for hyperbole or fervent hatred for a country that is our neighbour and the home of these talented cricketers.

The Pakistanis felt insulted, like the cool kids in school who weren't invited to the most happening party in town. Some people attempted to assuage the hurt because they felt bad that the cool kids felt bad. Now the cool kids came from a family that had a few murderers as distant relatives. So the defenders of morality and identity decided that the nice kid had to be punished, because you should not be nice to people who belong to a family that has criminals in it. And amidst all these analogies, let me remind you that all of this was about the game of cricket.

Sports holds a place in our hearts unlike any other source of entertainment. We place it on a pedestal where we search in it all the attributes we wish to exist in our society. We sometimes treat it as war, the players as gladiators who shall fight until there is conquest and defeat and sometimes as means to a greater end, an agent of hope and change, often over-exaggerated. We have complicated a meaningless form of entertainment by imbuing it with the idealistic notions of war and peace.

But in this controversy we have one other important point. Who are these Pakistani cricketers representing in this lucrative tournament? Certainly not Pakistan, but colorful clubs who are but abstract, and rather fuzzy identities that anyone could identify with. If the Pakistanis were not here as a representation of their glorious nation Pakistan, then who could deny them the moral right to play as long as the laws were not broken. It is like banning bearded men from boarding aircrafts because Osama Bin Laden has a long beard. Or almost like some Indians not allowing Australians into the country because some random Australian attacked an Indian. Oh wait! All of this is already happening.

Let me try to bring about the absurdity of generalization with another example. It is like believing that all Maharashtrians are liberal, intelligent philosophers who bring about social change because B. R. Ambedkar was a Marathi. And this has certainly been disproved by the MNS and Shiv Sena.

And my point is made. Shiv Sena had one good idea - trade embargo but they applied it in the wrong context using the wrong methods. The Bollywood star won this round by default, just muttering meaningless statements about how being nice does not make him unpatriotic, while the political parties screamed itself sore in an act of patriotism.

Indian society is a metaphor for the complexities that surround the concept of identity, and the future holds a lot more battles of this sort for us.

Five Films We Did Not Talk About In The Last Decade

Nishit — Tue, 9 Feb 2010 09:46:16 EST

It's that time of the year again where people make lists of the best and the worst, especially about films. Add to it, it's 2009 and hence people get a chance to talk about the best-worst of the decade as well. There are already thousands lists out there about it, so I don't want to add it to the noise. Instead I'll talk about the movies that not only escaped aam junta's attention, but esteemed critics' as well. Movies that I think deserved better.

Haasil: Set mostly in Allahabad, Uttar Pradesh, this film will be talked about how politics mostly works in rural India from college politics to regional politics to one's personal life. Ironic as it may sound, so-called protagonists of the film, Jimmy Shergill and Hrishita Bhatt, are mere sidekicks. Dialect-based dialogues and witty one-liners are special highlights. Minor characters like Badrishankar Pandey, Inspector Tiwari, Jackson-wa leave their own imprints on this fabric. Most of all, the film will be remembered by power-packed performance from Irfan Khan. Irfan Khan's The Warrior may have won the BAFTA, but this is the role that'll be difficult to overtake even by the Khan himself.

Manorama Six Feet Under: I absolutely hate when any Hindi film-maker uses the word "inspired" loosely, when in fact his movie is straight lift or even frame-to-frame copy of another movie, Korean movies being the latest trend. Navdeep Singh, in the true sense, can use the word inspired. Based on Roman Polanski's classic Chinatown, Manorama is set in the desert state of Rajasthan. With all the elements that define noir cinema; double-cross, twists and turns to false identity; added with underplayed sincerity of Abhay Deol, makes a fitting tribute to the original movie.

Chameli: It'd have never struck me to cast Kareena Kapoor as the title character of the movie that is Chameli, but much to my surprise she plays out just fine. With backdrop of a rainy night, two strangers and soulful melodies (Total respect to Sunidhi Chauhan), Chameli manages to pull-off a superb fable of human emotions.

Hey Ram: No, it's not about the greatness of Mahatma Gandhi, nor it's about off-again-on-again plot to assassinate the father of the nation. Kamal Hassan, one of the most versatile actors of our times in the truest sense, in the role of Saket Ram talks about his partition riots induced, hatred-filled journey to the redemption. The film created curiosity for the wrong reasons (Kissing scene between Rani Mukherjee and Kamal Hassan) than it should have. This is the film that Atul Kulkarni and Shahrukh Khan can boast off in their resume, in spite of their supporting characters.

Zubeidaa: Zubeidaa was most likely Shyam Benegal's first mainstream movie, so critics did not feel the need to put it with Benegal's best of the works. Sad. In momentous role of her career, Karishma Kapoor, which won her the national award, plays the title character Zubeidaa with aplomb. Narrated as the series of memories by her estranged son, Riyaz(Rajit Kapoor), Zubeidaa goes through journey of a girl from her teenage effervescence to a trouble marriage to a queen of a falling empire ends with a quote from her son. आखिर माँ चाहती क्या थी? (What did the mother want after all?)

Obligatory honourable mentions: Waisa bhi hota hai - Part 2, Ek Chaalis ki last local, Aamir

Movie Review: Harischandrachi Factory

Gauri Warudi — Tue, 9 Feb 2010 00:38:33 EST

Almost a century ago, one man showed dreams on the silver screen to the Indian people. It wasn't easy at all for Dhundiraj G Phalke aka Dadasaheb Phalke. An uphill journey, ordeals and challenges to be met. Yet he surmounted them all-with perseverance and passion- and against all odds, realized his silver dreams and progressed further, thus laying the important foundation for today's Indian film industry.

Trying to capture just a small slice (around 2 years or so) of the life and struggles of this great patriarch of the industry, is debutant director Paresh Mokashi's Marathi film, Harishchandrachi Factory. Although it's a delightful film, with Mokashi portraying Phalke in a different light, it tends to ridiculously border on the frivolous with Mokashi's Phalke virtually clowning around, most often than not. One would like to think that a man of that depth and restless curiosity would be portrayed with a little more reverence while being shown on the very medium he brought to this country..

Mokashi's intentions may not have been to do so, but the Chaplinesque portrayal and light-hearted narrative tends to undermine the gravity of the struggle that Phalke had to go through to realize this impossible( in that era) dream.

Nandu Madhav has obviously interpreted Phalke's persona ( as a rather bumbling, restless character??) as scripted by Mokashi and to that extent he is good; Vibhawari Deshpande as Saraswati, Phalke's exuberant, enthusiastic wife is like a breath of fresh air and so are the child artists(all of them)-Phalke and Saraswati-the chemistry is amazing; we get to see an occasional poignant moment between them, but by and large the film is too frothy and light, which is what I had a problem with. Besides this, of course are the sets. They remain just that-SETS--often falling short in lending authenticity to the period.

To top it all, (and I wasn't alone) the end had us stumped. There was an odd moment when the audience waited for something more to happen only to see the end credits rolling! It was then that they began shuffling in their seats.

However to give the devil his due, the earlier half of the film is enjoyable...with Anand Modak's music lending a touch of nostalgia to the whole experience.

Movie Review: Avatar - A Movie for the Theater Audience

Aditi Nadkarni — Sun, 7 Feb 2010 04:40:11 EST

Finally watched Avatar. Sat in a chilly theater with a pair of terribly ugly 3D glasses awkwardly balanced on my nose. I did not know what to expect from the film so my mind was blank, consumed by the most bourgeois of things. I was worried if the diet Coke would make me want to pee during the film, and if the whole 3D thing would get me motion sick. Then all too suddenly, within minutes of the film having started, I was transported into a world where all these petty concerns of mine, sheepishly shrunk and right before my eyes turned into luminescent little seeds of the Eywa tree.

I was in Pandora and I did not want to leave. One minute it was scary and dangerous, coming at you, teeth bared and the next moment it was lit up, fragile and beautiful, just like Neytiri, the brave and lovely heroine of the film. It is easy to see why Zoe Saldana is the star here. She brings emotion and authenticity to a character which otherwise might have seemed cartoonish. The magical world that James Cameron delivers does not have a Disney or Pixar like unbelievable quality. Not at all. He creates a world that you truly want to believe exists. The creatures and the flora are all wildly colorful but still very much alive. Pandora is the planet of our imaginations, the one where we hope scientists will finally discover life one day.

Lets face it, Cameron films have never been known for their plots and his direction is not subtle. The plot is usually predictable and the story is peppered with romance. Nothing wrong with that. It's just that this tale of a white man transforming into the much awaited hero for a race and saving them from other terrible white people is a bit old and borrowed from the many films about the fate of Native Americans. Anti-imperialism is the political favorite of the masses and of award committees as well. Everyone wants to be that one white guy, the hero who stepped in and saved people from tyranny. Unfortunately, in the context of history it is too late because Native Americans, Indians and Africans all fought their own wars against forced colonialism without a white Toruk Makto.

The tough military guy as the penultimate villain and the bulldozing of the Navi homes in the quest of "unobtanium" are familiar themes which have appeared in other less spectacular films. For a film with such a revolutionary style used in its making, Cameron could have employed a more memorable and unique plot just so that his remarkable effort did not seem like a gimmick or become outdated years from now. But the film left an impression on me. It gave my imagination a wild ride and then some. I will likely dream of Pandora tonight or wake up with a jolt as I fall off my Ikran. And ultimately I think Cameron's film making strategy might just be about delivering a memorable experience for the audience at the movie theater.

As I walked out of the theater, I thought to myself, James Cameron could easily be the crowned king of Bollywood for he excels at the one philosphy that scaffolds our commercial film industry in India: escapism.

Movie Review: Road To Sangam - Best Gandhi Film I have seen

Pratyush Khaitan — Thu, 4 Feb 2010 18:56:05 EST

*this review contains no spoilers*

I went to watch Road to Sangam only knowing that it was a film with a connection with Gandhi and had won some awards. What transpired on the screen in the next 135 minutes changed my perception of Gandhi and changed me as a person. I am someone who did not regard Gandhi in the high esteem a lot of people regard him in. He, to me, was some one who was adamant and threatened the nation with his blackmails which were carried out promptly by his followers. What I did not understand was that it was the power of Gandhi's thoughts which made people act the way they did. It had reason, it had logic.

Coming to the film. We are given a rationale and the film makes a strong case for it. You almost start believing in the thinking behind it. Then, there is a slow process of change which is so slow and gradual. It is not some thing which happens right away or through a flash bulb of genius. It is realization in process. The way the change is shown is convincing enough for some one to believe in the Gandhian principle.

The film has many layers to it. It is a film which asks 'what defines Karma'. It is a film about holding upright the faith Gandhi showed in the muslims of India. It is a film about how a person be it a muslim or a person of any religion (or even an agnostic or atheist for that matter) should behave. That's the bigger picture.

Then the film touches on tough subjects like partition and the role of an Indian Muslim. Many layers and subjects touched, all given due space.

Paresh Rawal is excellent in the role of a man who works based on logic and is principled at the same time. I can't think of a better actor to carry out the role. The part of a Muslim from the state of Uttar Pradesh, perfect with the local accent, who has his own little mannerisms and characteristics is played perfectly. The facial expressions are not exaggerated. The lines are spoken with a calm balance about them, exactly how the character would say it.

The pace of the movie is neither fast, nor slow. It has it's own rhythm and flows rather than moves. The cinematography is excellent with aspects of small town India (the city Allahabad in this case) shown. There are panoramic views and then there is attention to detail. A man making aloo tikki is shown for instance to capture the flavour of the chaat which is so popular in small town India.

Coming to Gandhi films, I have seen quite a few. Gandhi was a great biographical sketch. Gandhi My Father shows the flaws of Gandhi - the father of his son. Lage Raho Munnabhai which was so popular tries to explain the Gandhi way of thinking and does a fair job of it. It has the bollywood masala mixed in it, was perfectly marketed and was a huge success. Gandhigiri became a trend. Sardar, again starring Paresh Rawal (as Sardar Patel), paints Gandhi as a principled, yet stubborn man whose will might have cost India There are umpteenth movies which are presented as documentaries on Gandhi, most of which are holistic. No movie portrays Gandhism, like Road To Sangam does. At least none I have seen.

The show I went for was almost canceled as only one other person showed up at the ticket counter. In the end, just five of us came to watch the movie which they did screen thankfully. One engineer who had studied from Allahabad itself remarked that Gandhism is dead as no one turned up for this movie. I remarked that Munnabhai was a huge success. So it is a marketing flaw and lack of funds which meant audiences didn't come to watch this film. There is another aspect to it. It isn't a masala flick like many other bollywood flicks or like Munnabhai. It is not boring in any way, mind.

I give the movie a perfect 10/10. Don't think it could have been made better.

I just hope more people see it. So go see it and spread the word!

Movie Review: Tingya - A Little Boy and his Bullock

Aditi Nadkarni — Mon, 1 Feb 2010 00:33:45 EST

Cold winter weekends have led me into the arms of Netflix. Here I can order films from all over the world and watch stories with universal appeal. Over time, having seen cinema from Israel, France, China and even Iraq, I have begun to appreciate a world outside of Bollywood escapism. This weekend I watched Tingya, a small budget Marathi film, director Mangesh Hadavale's debutant effort. I watched it with an American friend who does not really understand Marathi and yet she was able to empathize with and appreciate every aspect of this remarkable story.

The story is of a little boy, Tingya, who loves his bullock. This bullock, for the rest of the family is a means of survival; for them he is livestock, he ploughs their fields and the little money that they earn from the yearly crop keeps them going. They live a humble, hand-to-mouth existence in rural Maharashtra where poor farmers are known to commit suicide in desperation when the rains refuse to grace them and their fields dry up. One day when the bull falls into a leopard trap and breaks his leg, overnight, he becomes useless to this family of poor farmers. But not to Tingya. To Tingya the bull is a beloved pet. When his parents contemplate selling the injured bull to the butcher, the little boy begins a battle to save his pet's life. In this endeavor he has the sole support of his little friend Rashida. When the film was over, we still had in the room, the characters living with us, their smiles and their tears and their struggles hanging heavy over our shoulders. I have been starved of Indian films that make me feel this way. The performances by the children and the attention to detail in this film are a testimony of the director's intuitive skills. Not very many debutante directors can draw such moving performances from a child who is not a trained actor. In spite of how beautifully this film has been crafted I only found it because I heard about it from a friend and went looking for it. Not because it was promoted with in-my-face advertising like say 3 Idiots or Paa.

Currently, a look at the big releases reveals that most commercial Hindi films are made by rich film families, the big banners, as they are popularly referred to. Every second commercially viable blockbuster has a Kapoor or a Bachhan associated with it. Our Indian populace, used to deity worship, promotes films like these and in their zeal to uphold their existing heroes ignores new talent that does not have the money to market their creativity. In the current scheme of things, films made by a small-time, struggling director get shoved into a corner, neglected because our masses are so taken with the idea of escapism that they do not want to see the depth and meaning in the stories of our reality. If such a film is a Marathi or non-Hindi film, it has even lesser chances of being a big hit back in India.

I tried looking up Tingya online and could not find any major articles about this film in any Indian news dailies. Only bloggers seemed to have covered this film extensively in 2007 when it was released. While the film has a short Wikipedia page, it does not have a website, using instead a blog to promote themselves. It seems that this film has received only local film festival awards and I doubt they were taken to bigger overseas festivals for sheer lack of funds. And yet big budget films like Devdas and Jodha Akbar receive unwarranted attention at international festivals because they have money and big names driving their efforts. This movie lost out to Taare Zameen Par for an Oscar submission. I am certain that if it were chosen it would have definitely been nominated. The western world may have seen a child's struggle with dyslexia but I can guarantee you the story of Tingya would have struck them as unique. But Tingya didn't stand a chance against Aamir Khan's directorial debut.

I want my readers to watch this film and talk about it, spread the word. I know some of you may not be Marathi speaking but this film and its story is driven by powerful scenes and not just dialog. Some of you are animal lovers and I can tell you that this story will move you to the core. Help this little piece of genius along and in some little way encourage such talent instead of fueling the blatant nepotism and cronyism that is plaguing our film industry back home. Mind you I do not mean to put down our commercial film industry. They have earned a place in people's psyche and that industry too supports a million careers. But there is more to India than the glossy, commercially viable, rich lives portrayed by the regular Bollywood fare. In a world plagued by superfluous, fleeting and material content, there are stories have the power to move us and introduce us to the joys that lie beyond what's on the surface. These stories might not highlight our affluence but they tell people of how much happiness there can be without it.

Movie Review: Natarang -The Choices And The Passion

Gauri Warudi — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 10:41:55 EST

It's all about choices one makes and the passion in one's heart. The stronger the passion and conviction, the stronger is an individual to stand up for one's choices and live by them in the face of all adversities.

This is the gist of the new Marathi film Natarang starring Atul Kulkarni and others. Directed by debutant director Ravi Jadhav, Natarang is the story of a young farm laborer Guna Kagalkar, whose passion for the performing art pushes him beyond his family, village and all societal norms to realize his dream. Guna's dream is to portray the role of a king- and we see him being referred to as 'Raja'. Circumstances force him to assay the role of a 'Nachya' ( an effeminate character, also referred to as 'maushi') and this choice brings him up against several odds. Yet having made his choice, he stands by it. Guna decides to take his destiny in his own hands, when the going gets tough on the farms, to set up a tamasha troupe.

The film has a simple, yet effective narrative. You cannot help empathizing with Guna. Atul Kulkarni's portrayal of Guna is effortless and simply remarkable. If he is a perfect 'pehelwan' complete with huge biceps ( not six-pack though) and the rustic look, then he is equally comfortable as the nimble nachya. Full marks to him for that portrayal. He brings out the angst and trauma of the tortured nachya convincingly. Guna has a never-say-die attitude and that's what makes him a winner, despite losing all he has while pursuing his dream.

The supporting cast (all the members of the tamasha troupe set up by Guna) do justice to their roles as does Kishore Kadam as the wily yet loving troupe manager Pandoba. Sonali Kulkarni ( the new one) as the tamasha dancer Nayana Kolapurkar, is impressive.

Mahesh Limaye's camera, while capturing the picturesque country side, adds to the pathos of the troubled Guna when he is left with no choices at a certain point in his journey.

Music by Ajay-Atul is catchy; In the lavani "Wajle ki bara" Bela Shende surprises with her rendition. "Khel Maandila" is a touching composition which takes us through Guna's journey.

Natarang has been produced by Zee Talkies, which perhaps saw its potential well in advance.

This one's a winner, no doubt. A must see.

The Day The Sur Died

a traveller — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 02:18:18 EST

If you haven't seen the "new" version of Mile Sur Mera Tumhara, you clearly haven't been on Twitter or Facebook all day. Both sites have been full of updates lambasting Zoom's attempt to modernise the classic we grew up watching on DD 1 on a regular basis.

I sat through it, all 16-and-a-half freaking minutes of it (which is nearly thrice as long as the original), and have the following thoughts on it:

1. In the original one, you felt you were watching Indians sing about their country. In this one, you never, for one second, are allowed to forget that these are the stars of Bollywood you're watching. I mean, did anyone look at Priyanka Chopra in that suit with the kids and think, "awww, look how sweet and loving she is"?!? And what the heck were Shahid and Deepika doing?!?

2. Some of the acts were truly cringe-worthy. I love Aamir Khan, but his whole act with the kids was totally uncool. And SRK at the end, with his trademark spreading arms out. Really? What was this, a promo for your next movie?

3. The original had mixed India's two passions, movies and cricket. This one, being made by Zoom, naturally focussed on move stars and movie stars alone (with a few musicians thrown in for fun). For some reason, however, they decided to then also throw in a few sportspersons at the end, all people who've made it to the papers in recent times. Firstly, the way it was shown seemed utterly patronizing and there-for-the-heck-of-it. Secondly, and interestingly, not one from cricket. What happened, was Lalit Modi not entertaining their calls?

4. The singing, oh, the singing. The original had Lata Mangeshkar's gorgeous voice for all the actresses. I know she's not singing anymore, but really, could they have at least tried to match the singer to the face? And didn't someone tell Shiamak Davar years ago that he should never, ever sing in public again?

5. The original had managed to show glimpses of India, the country. This simply couldn't. This was nothing but a bunch of actors being taken to a bunch of scenic spots, and asked to smile at the camera.

See the new version, and tell me you didn't feel like a little piece of your childhood died.

Here is the old version for comparison.