Desicritics Category: Media: Films - Hindi

Movie Review: 13B - Not Fear's New Address

IdeaSmith — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 07:40:14 EDT

Flush with the success of my earlier movie plan which turned out such great results, I decided to go one extra and spice up my next movie outing as well. So, I proposed 'Kitsch is Kool'. The idea was to do something unusual with a touch of whackiness, all in the name of entertainment. I decided to pick something different. Comedy...nah, we did that last week. Oscar winners...too bloody high-brow (Besides it was more fun to diss celebrity style)! Drama...umm, show me something else. How about horror? And what could add more ice to the chills than watching it in a rundown, semi-seedy theatre to add atmosphere? No comfortable plush sofas to sink your face into during the scream-moments, no multiplex comfort food of caramel popcorn and seat-delivered colas. Just rattling, creaky rexine seats where your knees bumped into the cold metal of the seats in front of you, each time you shrieked. 13B at Chandan cinema was the plan.

I'd love to tell you how, full of daring and adventure, I set forth with my brave bunch of movie-buff friends. Instead, every single one of them chickened out!!! Even my plaintive sell of

But guys, just imagine the thrill of facing up to your fears! After all, darr ke aage jeet hai!

was met with,

No!! Darr ke aage nightmares hai!

Like that. Hmph, so I ended up mall-ratting as usual and watching 13B in the aforementioned multiplex complete with comfort food. So not kitschy, definitely not kool. Maybe that took away from the experience, maybe my review would have been nicer if we had gone with the original plan.

13B is driven forth by Madhavan who despite his cult status in Kollywood (the Tamizh film industry, for the uninitiated) has failed to make a splash on the rest of the Indian audience. To his credit most people have fond memories of him in Banegi Apni Baat and Sea Hawks but the big screen seems to be rather cruel on South-Indian men, doesn't it? Considering the hero is a very large proponent of a movie's appeal, it already starts off with a handicap.

In addition, 13B is playing in that rather unfashionable genre of Bollywood horror movies. After the steady Ramsay brothers diet of B-grade potboilers (Veerana, Khooni Murda), the Indian audience was introduced to relatively more sophisticated offerings minus the ketchup-blood and clay-masks of yore. Ram Gopal Verma played guardian angel to this movement with Bhoot and Darna Mana Hai. I don't know how commercially successful they were, compared to the other Bollywood fare but they certainely ushered in a new age of horror in Hindi movies.

Cut to the present. The audience has been seeing a steady stream of 'experimental' movies right from the short-length skits favoured by Nagesh Kukunoor to NRI flicks to collages (Darna Mana Hai, Dus Kahaniyan) to audience-targetted films. Purely from a marketer's standpoint, now would have been a good time to take a leap forward in the undeveloped theme of horror movies. By that premise, 13B is over a decade too late. Raat was made ages ago, Urmila's wide-eyed Bhoot has shocked us all years back. What else is new?

The characterization of 13B is extremely dated with a honey-sweet joint family that precedes the generation of saans-bahu politics. None of the characters really stand out. Poonam Dhillon in her comeback avatar could have done so much more, had she just had a bit more to do than look annoyed at being disturbed during her noontime soap viewing. Sachin Khedekar (who shot to fame with Sailaab, a king among Hindi TV soaps) was perhaps a little too larger-than-life for TV but shrunk to his podgy-man frame in the movie. The movie doesn't exactly make the best case for Madhavan to kick-start his Bollywood career either, since he alternates between huffing & puffing up the staircase (what on earth was that about the broken lift anyway??), wide-eyed mania and goofy grins. That boy needs a lesson on not smiling too much, it makes me want to call him Mr.Cheese (and not as in Kya cheez hai!).

What's worse, there was actually a background score! Not a soundtrack to add dimension to the horror theme, a fullblown honest-to-Hindi-movie-goodness, background score complete with running around trees and *shudder shudder* an item song! This was about the only scary thing in the movie (and trust me on this, I'm a real 'fraidy-cat otherwise).

With a theme like Sab Khairiyat Hai, I was rather hoping this story would experience a Stepford Wives-esque ephiphany and explore the sublimnal horror of mind-controlled perfection. No such luck. By the end of the movie I'm only left with the feeling that there is someone who's even more petrified of gadgets and technology than I am! After all, my nightmares have never been of spooked television sets (even if I did entertain a haunted lift once). It looks like the makers were rather spooked with the idea of making a movie too. If you're looking for chills down the spine, ask a friend to dump an ice-tray down your shirt. Don't bother with 13B.

Ishq-Mohabbat-Pyaar-Vyaar: A Tribute to Filmy Love

Seema Dhindaw — Sun, 8 Mar 2009 03:42:39 EDT

Now that the controversies surrounding Valentine’s Day are in the past, I thought it would be fun to have a glimpse at the strange, comic and unusual things that love compels us to do. Catchy toe-tapping Bollywood tunes, the occasional romantic comedy, and sometimes corny poetic expressions have encouraged many of us to perform otherwise unthinkable, highly embarrassing acts of love. We can look back and laugh at spectacles that love or the illusion of it has inspired. The influence of the film industry, particularly Bollywood, hasn’t made matters any easier for those who have been pierced by Cupid’s arrow. In fact, many a times it is the sole culprit for implanting those bizarre and unrealistic ideas about love during those vulnerable, young growing years.

I grew up listening to Hindi film songs and religiously watched one Hindi movie a week with my family. When we were too young to know the implications of romance or love, my brother and I would act out the parts of hero and heroine, using trees at the park to play hide and seek which was followed by a high speed chase. We would eventually find ourselves running towards each other only to end the charade in a playful sibling fight instead of breaking into a song. When we didn’t know lyrics we would make them up. If we didn’t know the steps to a dance, we would choreograph our own crazy moves and our parents would watch sometimes in shock and at other times in dismay.

At home, it often felt like our parents were either villains in our lives or the stars of an ongoing Hrishikesh Mukherji film about complex marriages. When mom got upset over something, dad would sing and dance in a comical attempt to cheer her up. My brother and I would laugh in amusement, squeal in embarrassment or even play along. On Saturday mornings, mom made delicious parathas while melodious tunes played on the weekly Indian radio program. We anxiously counted the minutes, our eyes on the clock for the parathas and for the eagerly awaited weekly Namaste America television program that aired with previews of latest Bollywood movies, top ten songs and sometimes a special treat: an interview with one of the stars. Every week, I had a new crush depending on who was being interviewed and my brother had a new fight scene or dance move to play out. When Prabhudeva came on the screen we lost quite a few porcelain items. One of my first crushes was Salman Khan. I had a shirtless poster of his on the wall of my bedroom. That poster made a long journey with me from a small back alley in Rourkee, India and lived through my teen years in L.A. I remember my cousins hollering at me then for picking Salman over Shah Rukh. Today, if I make it back to Rourkee, I know for sure I will bring back a Shah Rukh poster instead. Tastes have changed.

In my teens, thoughts of how I would meet my knight in shining armor and what he would be like were always at the back of my mind. When I looked at Bollywood films for answers, the romances and love stories were fun and exciting, full of song and dance sequences, offering me hope but none or little practical advice. Hollywood portrayed a completely different perspective. Issues surrounding religion, career, premarital sex and race were at the forefront. Titanic, Father of the Bride, Sliding Doors, Sleepless in Seattle and many of Woody Allen’s films made things either too simple, fairytale-like or way too complex for me to grasp. Movies like Silsila, Lamhe and Chandni gave me hope that even if my soul mate was much older, married, missing after an accident or suffering from a predictable bout of amnesia, somehow miraculously and by defying every righteous principle, moral value and perhaps by way of nothing short of a miracle, he would end up being with me.

After watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, the prospect that I could have a guy best friend who would suddenly start to develop feelings for me years later when I grew my hair out, lost some weight and played basketball in a saree was extremely exciting. After a few years of shooting hoops, it didn’t take me long to realize that wasn’t happening. You’ve Got Mail offered hope of a promising fairytale romance which began after meeting a faceless stranger in an internet chat room. Thereafter began my brief and dangerous love affair with virtual chat rooms. I had my share of terrible experiences and realized that in the online world everything wasn’t as perfect or safe as the movies portrayed. As an adult, when I watch my nieces online, I feel a protective urgency come over me.

I slowly began to lose hope of finding my Prince Charming when one day I watched Dil to Pagal Hai. It suddenly all became crystal clear to me. Learning how to dance would lead me to the love of my life. I had to become just like Madhuri Dixit. A famous Kathak teacher was coming to Southern California for two months and taking her class was my only hope. I begged and pleaded with my parents. My dad made a few ill-timed jokes about California being earthquake prone and my mother politely suggested alternate hobbies that did not require much grace or rhythm. But they finally gave in to my childish whims and soon I was practicing tapping my feet to “tha thayi thayi” and undulating hand movements.

I observed in dismay that the Kathak classes were going too slow and I wondered if all this foot-tapping would break into a full-fledged dance any time soon. I figured I would have to be dancing to a song and not just these random beats in order for the love story to proceed smoothly. Nothing of the sort happened of course and the lessons were aborted within six months. I was left dolefully massaging the blisters on my soles.

After watching Maine Pyar Kiya, I turned to my amused parents and asked them if we had family friends that I could visit for a vacation in India. They did! And they even had a son. But as luck would have it, before my flight even took off, their beloved son had announced that he was in love with the girl next door and by then I wasn’t into love triangles any more. So I spent my vacation falling in love….with India and its people.

Recently, Hollywood, after years of criticizing the blatant escapism showcased by the Hindi film industry, finally caved and embraced the rags-to-riches, love story of Slumdog Millionaire. While controversies over the depiction of poverty in Slumdog continue, as an American, I was more taken by the moving story which spans several years and brings us a saga where tragedy, separation, loss and hardship, are all conquered by the one relentless pursuit of love. In India, love trumps all and I felt like this film captured that spirit.

I find consolation in knowing that I wasn’t alone in my filmi craze. Cousins, friends and siblings were also influenced by the love stories in the popular movies of the time. Unrealistic expectations and dreamy romantic ideas had infiltrated their minds as well. They too have sung in the shower, practiced pick up lines in front of a mirror and danced around the room in a towel like Kajol. I remember watching as my cousins practiced the famous pose of Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic, standing on the edge of a balcony above a sea of busy city traffic amidst the beautiful symphony of random honks. Much to my delight, on one trip to India, I helped a cousin plan many a secret rendezvous with her lover. Objections of their being together by their parents didn’t stop them from eventually eloping. The rage and tragic aftermath they faced from their families caused them much grief but their ambitious first steps together set off a trend in the family. Five other elopements followed in quick succesion within the next three years. Inter-cultural, inter-religious and inter-racial marriages were becoming more common. Old barriers fell away over the years. Thanks to inspiration from the popular films of the time, stale prejudices began to dissolve, bringing together soul mates across these divisive lines.

So all in all, these filmi influences have had the power to unite, bring positive change and offer hope to all of us who wait patiently to find that one true love. In addition to the cute, comic and sometimes foolish things that films have inspired all of us to do without their influence, life, both in love and looking for love, would not be as much fun.

Movie Reviews: 13b, Dhoondte Reh Jaoge, Karma Aur Holi

Bubbly — Fri, 6 Mar 2009 13:13:31 EST

This week three movies have released in Indian theatres and they span genres as diverse as a thriller, a comedy and drama. One must say, it is a 3-in-1 treat, which one should enjoy at one's own leisure. All provide entertainment and enjoyment in their own way. If you are ready to take a peek, let’s go on a roller coaster ride to know what they are about.

(1) 13b

The movie should have been rightly titled 13t since it is all about TV, TV and TV. In these times of recession and worries, religion and politics have taken a backseat and films and TV form the core of our entertainment and enjoyment. This week’s enjoyment comes in the form of this scary movie. Mind you, this is not spooky (it's not about ghosts) but has sufficient chills to keep you engaged.

Manohar is a progressive thinking young man, who moves to a new address 13b and stays on the 13th floor with his family. There is nothing wrong with that if you are not superstitious but the film is all about 13 now.

Since Manohar’s family are TV buffs, they watch all the shows avidly. The programmes start exactly at 13:00 (1 pm). Everything centres on the number 13 just to keep the viewers’ attention focused. And the chills begin in right earnest.

Although Manohar holds the remote and controls the programmes, gradually the TV controls him completely. The TV shows him what it wants to show. Initially everything is fun and laughter but the terror slowly unfolds and what comes forth will make you think where life is leading us today. Manohar along with the viewers must solve the mystery of these unholy happenings.

Madhavan as Manohar has come up with an engaging performance. Neetu provides adequate support as his wife. Watch her scene where she holds a candle and goes looking for him. It might scare the living candlelights out of you. It’s a pleasure to see Poonam Dhillon back.

The story could have done with tight editing. Keeping up with the spirit of the film, it could have been confined to ‘130’ minutes in length. The ‘controversial’ song “sexy mama” is enjoyable.

When you come out of the theatre, you may end up saying, “Maar Daala”.

***
***

(2) Dhoondte Reh Jaoge

When you read the title of this film, you are reminded of a detergent. This film does our dhulaai but with laughter. It is a thorough nonsensical fun.

Remember Govinda-style capers and Hera Pheri fun? You didn’t have to think at all but were rolling along with guffaws. DRJ is this and more. If nothing else, this movie will rightly place the crown of ‘king of comedy’ on Paresh Rawal’s head.

The film is about two nobodies - Paresh Rawal (film producer) and Kunal Khemu (chartered accountant), who want to become somebody. They decide to make a flop movie borrowing money. They plan to invest only a part of the money and run away with the rest.

Surprisingly, the movie (actually a spoof) Solay Se L'Gaan Tak turns out to be a big hit. Now the financiers are after them for a share of the profits. There ends the story. But the fun has just begun. The proceedings and acting is so much in sync that you will end up with cramps in your stomach.

Johny Lever will steal your hearts with his act as a writer with loyalty to Pakistan. Watch out for Sonu Sood. The tall lanky star has shades of Amitabh. After Ek Vivah Aisa Bhi, he reprises his funny side. Soha is OK.

If you don’t mind being mindless while watching this flick, then this one is for you. The songs are equally fun especially ‘Salma’.

When you come out of the theatre, you will end up saying, “Dho Daala”.

***
***

(3) Karma Aur Holi

This one is for the intelligent, thoughtful viewer, who doesn’t mind dwelling in it at leisure. It has an ensemble cast from both Hollywood and Bollywood. Produced by Robert de Niro’s daughter Drena, it is the vision of (East) India from the eyes of white Americans.

Don’t expect a regular entertainer here. Don’t expect anything, but what the film expects from you is total involvement.

It is about a couple, Meera (Sushmita) and Dev (Randip), who call their relatives and friends for a festive get-together at their place. Gradually, the guests interact and take a keen interest in each other's lives. Something happens and it becomes confession time for everyone present.

Skeletons spill out of the cupboard. Secrets are revealed that were long buried and forgotten. Does this remind you of something? Something we all wish to do but societal pressures make us bottle up?

So, it is confession time, viewers! Unbottle yourself. Don’t wait anymore but EXHALE now. It is a colourful destiny with a realistic tone.

Sushmita and Randip were meant for this movie. Rati is again a pleasure to watch after a long gap.

When you come out of the theatre, you will end up saying, “Rang Daala”.

Movie Review: Siddhaarth - The Prisoner

Bubbly — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 01:14:41 EST

Are you looking for something new, away from the regular Bollywood trash. You will find what you are seeking in this spiritually satisfying movie.

Siddharth Roy (Rajat Kapoor) has been just released from the prison. Prior to his prison stint, he was a famous writer. He desires to reconcile with his estranged wife Maya. Aspiring to regain his literary reputation, he writes a manuscript.

Unfortunately, in a cyber café it gets exchanged with the mob’s money loaded bag.

With this development life takes a dramatic turn for Siddharth. He frantically searches for the lost manuscript but is reconciled with his three-year-old son. Money doesn’t interest him but he desires for the custody of his son.

Meanwhile café manager Sachin comes under pressure from mob to find the money. He loses his job and is forced to go underground.

The film takes its theme of renunciation of desire as the right path to enlightenment and freedom from the ancient text of Rig Veda. It is also a tribute to Albert Camus’ 1942 classic “The Stranger” (L’Eltranger). It is a journey to freedom of the inner self from life’s complexities.

Now coming to the performances, Rajat Kapoor is in a class of his own. He stands apart. He is surely an actor to watch out for. He carries the movie singly on his able shoulders.

His look is inspired by Che Guevara, the Latin American revolutionary. His performance is flawless. Watch his facial expressions. You will feel his pain as your own. It will move you.

Have you experienced something like this in a long time while watching the usual Bollywood fare? No! Then go for it…in a big way. It’s a must watch class fare. You will come out enlightened.

CAST & CREW:
Banner: Vistaar Religare Film Fund; Walkwater Media; Alliance Media & Entertainment Pvt. Ltd.
Executive Producer / Co-Producer: Pryas Gupta, Rohan Gupta, Sandeep Hooda
Director: Pryas Gupta
Star Cast: Rajat Kapoor (Siddharth Roy), Sachin Nayak, Pradeep Kabra, Pradip Sagar
Music Director: Sagar Desai
Cinematography: Mrinal Desai
Editor: Pryas Gupta, Arindam Ghatak
Screenplay: Pryas Gupta
Dialogue: Pryas Gupta, Hitesh Kewalia
Costume: Isha Ahluwalia, Jeneva Talwar
Story / Writer: Pryas Gupta
Duration: 1 hour 34 minutes
Rating: ****/5 HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Movie Review: Delhi 6 (Dilli Chhe) - Aage Nahin, PEECHHE

Bubbly — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 13:02:48 EST

There was much riding on Rakeysh Om Prakash Mehra especially after Rang De Basanti, which took audiences by storm with its novelty of its theme. Of course that theme has worn thin in his latest offering Deihi 6 (chhe).

Old Delhi is the most magnificent part of India with its historical buildings and even more historic past. It holds the most precious memories that can never be erased.

Rakeysh may have lived there but his heart is certainly not in the movie. He has just put together sequences, which do not connect. Forget connecting with the audience, it made me think of what a wastage of my time and money it was. I could have gone shopping and had more fun.

But first thing first. The Story: It is similar to Swades but not a patch on it. The grandson Roshan (Abhishek), an NRI, obliges his granny (Waheeda Rehman) and brings her to Old Delhi (walled City). Of course it has to be Chandni Chowk. But what is this? Rakesh filmed Chandni Chowk in Sambar, Rajasthan. The artificiality of the sets comes through.

The story breathes its last here. It then progresses in episodes – monkey man, Hindu Muslim tensions (unity), the narrow lanes (!?), the traffic, Ramlila, etc. etc. But the spirit of Purani Dilli is missing. Its spirit lies in the hearts of its people. Sadly, filmi actors cannot even come close to it. They are just actors getting over their role rather than living it.

Strangely, the chemistry between hero Roshan and heroine Bittu is sadly missing. They need to learn acting. Star kids have only bloated egos and this film is the apparent result.

About the actors: Waheeda is passable. She does make efforts but that’s it. Om Puri, Pawan Malhotra, Vijay Raaz and Rishi Kapoor are worth mentioning. They bring alive their parts. Divya Dutta is simply superb although she has a small part. She shines through. Other characters too do a commendable job.

It should rightly be called “Dilli Chhe” because that is what Purani Dilli (Walled City) is fondly called and not ‘Delhi’ 6.

AR Rahman is its hero (body) for sure and his music its heroine (soul).

Now coming to the main characters:

Neither can Abhishek portray a New Yorker convincingly nor a Dilliwala. He is falseness personified. In fact, his accent was jarring on the nerves. And his dance – he has two left feet. He has a lot to learn if he wishes to carry a film solo over his shoulders. Till now he is a big failure in this regard. He has a long way to go to become a hero forget being called an ‘actor’.

His body language is awkward. With his facial hair, he can give any UP goonda a tough competition. Sad but his dad is supposed to be the greatest actor of Hindi cinema. An actor’s son will only be an actor is not true. What is true is, if you place books over a donkey, it doesn’t make him literate.

The films which are credited as his ‘success’ till now are Guru (only Amitabh, Amar Singh and Anil Ambani must have viewed it privately and bought its tickets wholesale and distributed them freely) and Dostana (a multi-starrer with John Abraham and Priyanka Chopra walking away with all the body and glamour credits.)

Sonam Kapoor must ‘LEARN’ acting if she can. Throwing tantrums in the film is not acting. She should forget she is a star kid if she wishes to get any new films. Saawariya can be forgotten and now this dud. Audiences won’t be tolerating a third bomber. She should look out for alternative career. Sadly, she is no patch on Kareena Kapoor or her first hero Ranbir Kapoor.

Last but not the least. Amitabh Bachchan. He lands up last in this film. Had he not been there, it would have made more sense. His entry is actually an intrusion. Not needed and mostly not required at all.

A sane word of advice to Amitabh: Your golden phase of 70s and 80s is over. There is a younger crop of heroes on the scene. Instead of competing with them, act your age and be dignified like Dilip Kumar or Dharmendra. Always remaining in the news for no apparent reason makes no sense.

Mr Bachchan, you make more news being a socialite, arm in arm with Amar Singh or Anil Ambani or receiving self sponsored awards. Your films flop big time. I don’t remember any of your recent films being a hit, except Bhootnath, which had Shah Rukh Khan and the kid. They walked away with the glory.

Pairing opposite girls of age of your grand daughters do you no good. There is nothing more to conquer so how low will you stoop now. There is no glamour left in you except an aging Aishwarya.

You can teach your son acting. That should be your full time career, at the rate you both are going. Instead of ‘promoting’ your son; ask him what he would like to do. Acting is certainly not his cup of tea. South is the permanent place to head.

Forget acting, the Bachchans currently at most can be called socialites. Or the best non-actors. They are resting on their past laurels. Even Shahid Kapur has given more hits and entertained us more. We are the paying public. We cannot be bought like bought previews or bought critics. Audience won't lap any trash doled out to them.

CAVEAT to the Audience (if at all there is going to be one for this movie): Watch at your own risk. Is there a wedding or shopping or an outing you have to attend? Head there and ENJOY!

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.

Movie Review : Dev D, Cult To The Core

Ankur Bhatia — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 06:03:10 EST

Its not often that one comes across a cult film, one that becomes a benchmark for film makers for years to come. But the funny thing about such movies is that they very rarely appeal to the masses. Dev D is one such film which a lot of people just could not stand and others fell in love with it, including me. Its just a question of whether the sensibilities of such a film hit the right spot in your mind or not.

Dev D for me is a beautiful film, one that is a modern age classic. Every frame, every sec, every dialogue, every song of the film is poetry in motion. I am not going to get into the story since everyone knows what it is. But there are a lot of differences from the original Devdas as Dev in this film is not as a big a loser as described in the book, and this becomes clear by the end of the movie.

Mahi, who plays Paro is top notch as the girl who is madly in love with Dev and would do anything to make him happy, even if it means going to a different city to get her nude photo developed or getting a mattress into the fields to have sex. Kalki is also good but her inexperience shows in crucial scenes which hold them from reaching their full potential. Evidently Abhay Deol puts in a scintillating performance as Dev. He underplays effectively with the help of subtle gestures with his eyes and gives a new dimension to this Devdas.

But all this does not make it a classic (though it plays a part), it reaches that benchmark because of the treatment given by Anurag Kashyap in adapting this saga into a modern age version. The picturization of songs is there to be seen, admired and fall in love with, specially <i>Pardesi</i>. And the songs are not in there for the heck of it. All of them enhance the mood of the film and their timing is just perfect, specially <i>Emotional Atyachaar's</i> Rock version with the timing of its scream. The camera work is another one of its highlights. From the underwater shots to the shot of a completely drunk Dev getting up with a shaky camera, all of it is fantabulous.

If you like Dev D, you wont be able to forget it. It will stay with you and make you feel as if you are in a trans.One that you don't wanna get out of.

Movie Review : Anurag Kashyap's Dev D

Nishit — Mon, 9 Feb 2009 04:23:00 EST

An egotistical brat returns from London to meet his childhood love, only to blow her off with his sadistic ways, resulting in his childhood sweetheart getting married to a widower and the brat resorting to liquor and a kothewaali. That's as crisp and accurate summary of Devdas as one can get. Still it's surprising to see fascination of Bollywood with the character and the story. Three times, three directors have made their version with top actors of respective times. Anurag Kashyap definitely does not belong to the aforementioned genre. He believes that those movies and the story itself is too melodramatic. He believes that Devdas is nothing but a sore loser. And that's how Devdas takes a big leap of faith, if you will.

Kashyap's Devdas is not totally a biography of a man of misery. Dev, Paro and Chanda all get their own narrative until they converge. Dev, in the beginning, is no cute child artist who gives a hug or an innocent kiss to his childhood love. Instead he threatens his girlfriend to bite her hand if she doesn't obey him and he does. In one of the rare hilarious moments of the movie, when asked to leave for London, Dev asks whether he is being sent to London because he was caught smoking or for calling his father 'Sattu'. Shahrukh Khan's passion towards Paro was expressed by the melodramatic Koi tumhe chhue yeh main bardaasht nahi kar sakta, while Dev (Abhay Deol) here, looking at nude picture of his girlfriend,with expressions full of lust, goes Paro, main aa raha hoon. Paro (portrayed beautifully by Mahie Gill) too, on the other hand is no silsila yeh chahat ka girl of yours. She succumbs to lust as easily as her man does. I was probably the only one in the whole cinema to laugh out loud when she starts carrying a mattress on her bicycle stand, but that shows the extent she is willing to go to follow her lust and that of her man. When, the currently cult song, "Emosional Atyaachar" by Patna ke Presleys starts playing during her marriage celebrations, uncaring of her surroundings she breaks into a zesty dance, much to the shock of her relatively-old husband. When asked by his ex about physical satisfaction from the relationship, she not only retorts, she goes on to say, tumhe tumhari aukat dikha rahi hoon. While Sarat Chandra's Chandramukhi does not have much background to identify with, Kashyap's Chanda (Kalki Koechlin) goes through roller-coaster of teenage romance, scandals, hatred until succumbing to Easy Money for her life. Dev's journey of rise, fall and redemption goes through dark -- figuratively and literally -- nights, lots of vodka, mountains of Himalayas, grief over his father's death, misery of a criminal and a lot more. Even if that meant the story dragged a bit and the whole arbitrary second half of "self-discovery" and "epiphany". That's where the movie deserves its share of criticism.

The two strongest departments to come out of this movie are cinematograpy and music. Kudos to Amit Trivedi and Kashyap for not only creating surreal music, but also blending it to the film so beautifully that in spite of 18 tracks, it never distracts from the narrative, but only adds to the effectiveness. For example, after confronting her ex, when Paro leaves the hotel, in slow frames, hiding her sorrowful eyes with sunglasses, to the tunes of saavan barse/ chubhan de hazaar/ saavan barse. It's amazing how much sense Dhol Yaara Dhol or Paayaliya makes after having actually seen the movie. DevD's sojourn through underground pubs and drug bars reminds you of another visually stunning expression of misery, Requiem for a dream.

Originally, Abhay Deol himself conceived the idea of Dev.D and he knows his character well. It's sure a challenge to portray someone whose perpetual mood is that of sorrow and masochism. I will go on to say that Devdas is one of the most unidimensional characters you'll ever come across in hindi cinema in the ranks of all babujis of Alok Naths and maas of Nirupa Roys and Reema Lagoos. Only for that, if for nothing else, Abhay Deol deserves accolades. Mahie Gill as Paro makes an interesting debut. She does not make a cute or girl-next-door debut, but a role that requires her to shed clothes in the first few minutes of the movie and not for titillation. Challenging and well done! Kalki Koechlin is passable as the Canadian-Indian high class prostitute. Chunni here gets more color than Sarat Chandra's counterpart here. He is not just an accomplice of Dev, but a shrewd drug dealer and an accomplished pimp. Kashyap will surely get some of the fans back he lost with No Smoking.

Thumbs up for a beautifully crafted and visually stunning film. I say bring on more!

PS:- Just as I was about to publish this, I got the answer for the Special Thanks to Danny Boyle frame at the beginning of the movie.

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.

My Upcoming Film: CoolKat Urbanoir - Life in Amrika

Sonal Panse — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 13:42:16 EST

Inspired by Slumdog Millionaire, I'm going to make a movie featuring 'gritty realism' in the USA. The movie will be called CoolKat Urbanoir.

The story goes like this -

A young African man gets kidnapped and sold as a slave in the US of A. He goes through many trials and tribulations, marries a slave girl, they have children, the children are sold, the parents suffer, fall ill, try to escape, are caught and beaten, try again and escape, join the Native Indians, are uprooted from several reservations and starved, are hunted and die under horrible circumstances.

Flash forward several hundred years.

A descendant of these slaves is born in the most dangerous part of an Inner City neighborhood to an unwed teenage hooker with a cocaine habit. Father unknown. Child is abandoned in a garbage heap. Rescued by a church mission and taken to a hospital. Suffers terribly from drug withdrawal (got the habit from Ma during the pregnancy). Later put in an orphanage and shuffled through endless foster homes. Abused physically and sexually in the foster homes. Goes to an Inner City school infrequently and learns nothing there. Gets beaten up by street gangs to and fro from school. So, to save his own hide, joins up one of the brotherhoods. Condition is that he help them peddle drugs to school children. So he does.

Gets caught. Gets sent to jail. Gets raped in jail. And beaten. Many, many, many times. Gets plenty of tattoos too and decides to do a course in body building as well.

Comes out toughened and mean and with plenty of contacts to further advance the criminal career. Furthers criminal career. Adds pimping and armed robbery to the resume. Starts freelancing as a hitman for the Columbian, Korean, Chinese and Japanese drug cartels.

Gets involved with a white woman who wrote him love letters while he was in jail and 'true love' blooms for a while. Then she gets pregnant and wants to get married. He doesn't want to get married. She says he'll have to pay for child support anyway. He doesn't fancy paying child support for eighteen whole years. He's already been stealing money from the druglords to make ends meet. So he murders her and dumps her body over a bridge into a river.

But someone sees him do this and informs the police. He is arrested and tried.

And gets released on a technicality. The police that arrested him forgot to quote that Miranda dialogue, it seems, and subjected him to racist epithets besides.

Lays low for a while and then takes revenge on the informer (a white man, incidentally).

Then goes on a run. An exhilarating chase around and around the US of A follows. Wonderful scenic scenes. Lots of clambering around the Grand Canyon and so on. Ends up in the American South in a small town where the interbred population are still fanning the fires of the Ku Klux Klan ideology. They gladly beat up the new black man in town and strung him up from a tree outside the town. They leave him for dead....

But, of course, he is still alive. Another man comes along, sees him hanging from the tree and cuts him down (in a scene borrowed/inspired from Hang 'Em High, a tribute to lovely, wonderful Clint Eastwood).

This other man happens to be a smuggler involved in the trade of smuggling Mexicans into the USA. He's home on leave, but is off to the Mexican border again and our hero decides to go with him and see how much this type of smuggling business pays.

Unfortunately luck is not favoring our hero (like it ever did!), and, after a few smuggling rounds, he gets shot at by White Nationalists patrolling the border.

He is rescued by a black US Army sergeant, who gets him to a hospital, visits him, bonds with him and feeds him the 'Join the Army, it's a great life' spiel.

Our hero swallows, gets false identification and joins the army. And is nearly killed in basic training.

Somehow he survives and is sent to Iraq to fight the just war and protect the homeland from the wogs. Unfortunately the wogs know how to kick ass. So life in the army on the warfront is not exactly great. Our hero however gets the chance to rape plenty of enemy women and torture many enemy men. A conscientious fellow soldier complains about his behavior to the 'superiors', but the superiors exonerate him saying he is 'only following orders'.

Our hero is pleasantly surprised. This is the first time in his life that the 'establishment' ever spoke out in his support. However, pleased as he is, he ensures that the 'informant' dies in a friendly fire while out on patrol.

Later, he sees an army poster asking if anyone is interested in touring Afghanistan. Our hero volunteers and has a Rambo-like career there.

He is much decorated and felicitated and comes back home on leave as a 'hero'.

Unfortunately, those pesky people in the Police Department are still on his case. They read what Thomas Friedman wrote about our hero in his usual laudatory style in the New York Times, see his photograph and exclaim "Why, that's the man we've been loooookin' for!"

So they contact the Army. The Army hedges, prevaricates, obstructs, but finally 'honorably discharges' our hero and lets the wolves have him.

The wolves have him only for a short while. Some patriotic folks, indignant that a war hero be held accountable for a long-ago murder of a long-dead woman, help him break out of police custody and drive him all the way to Canada.

He applies to stay in Canada as a conscientious protester. The Canadians don't buy that. They read Thomas Friedman in the New York Times too. They don't want him there.

So he takes a plane to Venezuela. He figures he'll be welcome in Chavez's land. Enemy of my enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. He figures that Chavez, taking a cue from the New York Times, will feature him on his TV show. He day-dreams of using the TV show to kick-start a new career as a rap artist. Maybe he'll even write an autobiography and flog it on Oprah - over videophone, of course. Our hero, you see, after a lifetime of anonymity, is beginning to enjoy the taste of fame.

However, there's fame and there is fame. Sometimes fame hurts. The minute he lands in Venezuela, he is spotted by a Columbian drug-runner. After he disappeared from their midst earlier, the druglords had figured out that he was stealing from them and now they want their pound of flesh.

Our hero is on the run again. He's running out of places to run to though. The USA is out, so also the US Army, Canada and South America. And North Korea, South Korea, Japan, and China - remember the Japanese, Korean and Chinese drugpins? They want him too and they have long arms. Italy is out too. Our hero had run-ins with the Italian Mafia when he was in jail and they're not forgetting either.

Wondering what to do, our hero seeks shelter in a low-dive in a red light area. He is nursing a drink morosely, when a stranger at the bar strikes up a friendly conversation with him. Our hero is initially suspicious, but the stranger, who is called Moshe, appears to have no underhand motives. They get along well. Just then two Arabs jump Moshe and try to knife him. Our hero goes to his assistance, saves him and their friendship is really cemented.

Our hero, over another dozen drinks, finally confides to Moshe about his 'situation'.

Moshe is sympathetic and offers to help. He is on his way back home, and suggests our hero come with him. He'll be safe there.

And so our hero goes to Israel.....

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End of Part I. Sequel to follow, featuring lots of scenic scenes from Lebanon and Gaza. Stay glued.

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So that's the story. Anyone wants to come and act in it? No pay. At least not before we sweep the Golden Globes.