Five Chapters, One lifetime!

       “For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love,

                      Or chide my palsy, or my gout,

                  My five gray hairs, or ruined fortune flout,

                     With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve”

Priyanshu and Dia in Paanch Adhyay

At one point in the movie, Arindam (Priyanshu Chatterjee) asks his wife Ishita (Dia Mirza), “is that you?” He was referring to the perfume she had used, which somehow seemed to him new and ‘strong’. But the essence of the choric question lies in the fact that the perfume is just a pretext; we fail to know the person next to us, even years after staying together. Pratim D. Gupta’s debut shines in the eloquence of sublime silence. Silence, which builds up the tension between the married couple and silence that is beautiful. A promising plot, subtle literary angles, minimalistic use of characters, musical rhapsodies, commendable cinematography and a crafted finesse make Paanch Adhyay a lyrical montage of sounds, sights and colours, not lacking an iota of soul in this modern tragedy.

Divided into five chapters, each named after a Tagore song, Sedin dujone, Ogo bideshini, Amar e path, Amar raat pohalo and Tomay notun kore pabo bole, the film has traces of Tagoreana pervading throughout the film. Arindam even goes on to make Charukatha, his take on Charulata. The film excels in its leit-motif of literary angles. It opens with the beautiful words from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:  “Clementine: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon. Joel: I know. Clementine: What do we do? Joel: Enjoy it”, and the director opens up a world of a Clementine and Joel, who try hard to erase and evade their predicament, but end up enjoying the little moment of togetherness, that has been allotted to them. One of the finest citations has been that of the Black Swan. As Ranjabati (Sampurna), falters in her first shot, as she fails to portray her passion for her lover in the new version of Charukatha with her Black Swan make-up, Arindam, her director emerges as Thomas Leroy, albeit in a new avatar, to arouse the beloved in her. Ishita reading Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and Arindam buying a copy of the same in the final frame of the film, subliminally touches upon the crux of the entire story. The short glimpse of the poster of the film Sweet Rush, the idea of Beauty and Truth from Robert Frost's The Rose Family and Priyanshu’s Arindam named after one of the best screen names of Uttam Kumar in Satyajit Ray’s Nayak speak of the director’s penchant for ‘intertextuality’, notwithstanding his long career as a renowned film critic. Paanch Adhyay excels in creating a poem through the references and the adept use of symbolism.

Gupta proves that a film can thrive only with its content, and its technical aspects. Moreover, I don’t remember a single film in the recent past that has only two major characters pulling off the entire film only through their nuanced performances. Priyanshu Chatterjee and Dia Mirza could not have asked for meatier and meaningful roles. A film does not need big names to attract audience and the director uses his available resources at his best in this Kaustuv Roy production. Priyanshu captures Arindam’s dilemma, his pains and his angst in his beautiful eyes. Dia Mirza delivers her best performance. The moment Ishita reveals her secret to Arindam is perhaps one of the finest performances of Mirza, elegant and graceful, effortless yet ethereal. Her Bengali diction is way better than many of her Bollywood counterparts.

Apart from the sensitive story (Pratim D. Gupta) aided by heart-wrenching performances, Paanch Adhyay needs to be praised for its music and its magical cinematography. Santanu Moitra’s harmony reaches its apotheosis in Subha Mudgal and Swanand Kirkire’s renditions of Ure Jay and Uda Jaye placed strategically in the second and the third chapters of the film, capturing the glorified solitude and loneliness of Arindam and Ishita. Agantuk and Baavri are equally impressive. Ananda Chakroborty, the DOP of the film, weaves a magical saga through his sepia tones and aesthetic use of gray shades keeping the ‘tension’ taut.

Bengalees can’t do without either Tagore or Satyajit Ray, and audience today, can’t take the ‘tension’ for too long. Such comments from Hrishi da (Soumitro Chatterjee in a cameo) echo the sources of inspiration for Gupta’s debut.  Paanch Adhyay definitely meanders around a ‘Tagoreana and a Ray gharana that is so deep rooted that one cannot ignore the traces; and the 113 minutes  of the film is an ode to Arghakamal Mitra’s editing skills.

A stranger, an agantuk becomes a dosar for a life time. Yet it takes a lifetime to know the person on whom you “had once built an absolute trust”, bringing home the reality that even a lifetime is not enough. Seize the day, enjoy every moment of togetherness, no matter what trials you have to go through. Paanch Adhyay is a tragic tale of an urban relationship with an uncanny turn of fate that makes you count every moment of your life. It makes you want to shout to the world Dohai toder ektuku chup kor, Bhalobasibare amare de obosor.

     

Sweeter as it Melts!

A Slice of Life!

A deaf and mute protagonist, named after Murphy radio has, for his first flame, a girl called “Shruti” and for his life, an autistic charmer named “Jhilmil” who brings things, all bright and gay, into his life. Interestingly ironical! Anurag Basu’s episodic film is a celebration and felicitation of love. Last week, we have celebrated the relationship of two men who “suffer” “psychological” aberrations in Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish, and this week we delve into the world of two characters who are, otherwise again, marginalized. The common point of reference: liberation. As Jhilmil enjoys the fireflies through the soap bubbles at night, as she looks at the white rat, as she tries to run after the butterfly and as she pampers the “little lamb”, we wonder at the film, “Anurag Basu, Did he who made Kites, made thee?” Animal metaphors run for that sense of liberation, miles away into the world of three people, who can defy conventions, knowingly or unknowingly, and are not “boxed” up in their world of challenges. Barfi, at the end of the day, is a tale of love that doesn’t alter even when “its alteration finds” or “bends with the remover to remove”.

A movie can thrive only on its cast and Barfi proves it again. The lineage of Ranbir Kapoor is deliciously put on fire by the performance of this Ghazab Prem. Smiling all the way is this actor who was once so vehemently criticized for his towel-debut in Sawaariya. He proves his mettle again as he dwells in his world of eloquent silence. Priyanka Chopra delivers a flawless performance, well almost, as autistic Jhilmil. Her movements are Khan-inspired, but her vibrancy and innocence light up the second-half. But cheers to this lady called Ileana D’Cruz. As the sutradhar of the film, she is a natural talent throughout. Her charming smile, her saree-clad appearances and her endearing calmness on that face add to her performance. Basu surely deserves praise for this wonderful search.

Barfi is a delight to the senses. Acoustically, the background score and the music are its assets. The orchestra that lingers in the camera-frame now and then, reminding you of Basu’s Metro, is as tasty as the bite of a kaju-Barfi. Pritam has always the best for two people in Bollywood, Emran Hashmi and Anurag Basu. Barfi is no exception. And yes, Darjeeling, Ghoom to be precise and Kolkata streets perhaps never looked so ethereal in the recent past. North Bengal’s flora is captured brilliantly in Barfi and Chhau dance and Jhilmil’s dream sequence are indeed a mid-Autumn's evening’s dream! Thanks to Ravi Varman, who weaves magic throughout the one fifty minutes of the saga of love. A particular scene just flashes across my mind: Jhilmil hides in Barfi’s room, her face lightens in the close up and on the other side of the screen in Barfi, enlightened on his own, lightened by the D.O.P, making the moment, and the frame, surreal. As Ghoom, (Sleep in English), the film surely sets a space for a nostalgia driven, lotos-eaten slumber, as we move with the protagonists on the roads of Kolkata, and through the alleys of the hill station, trying to find a destination away from the crossroads of life and its trials.

Barfi redefines film-making. The lack of a story becomes the art for storytelling for the director, the lack of dialogues become a panorama of silence and the lack of effort on the part of the actors become a seamless and rhythmic flow of emotions on the screen. To add to the performances are veteran Haradhan Bandopadhyay’s Daju, Roopa Ganguly and the brilliant Saurabh Shukla, who returns to screen after a long hiatus, I guess. His encounters with Chaplinesque Barfi are breath-taking.

This movie is an addiction for sure. For two challenged lives who fail to judge the pros and cons while falling in love, life becomes a fairy tale. Barfi is more of a fantasy than a film. After a long time, a film that doesn’t provide a premise for mushy romance actually makes you weep: not on the frailties of the characters, but on the lack of simplicity in our lives. Basu never merges on the intellect, nor does he philosophize, yet simple truths are so faultlessly offered in the film. Only if the continuous stretch of flashback narrative could have been avoided and the duration of the film rendered a few minutes less, the film would not have dragged in the second-half. But that’s okay. For those who have a tooth for sweet Barfis, the lengthier the barfi, the better!

Cashews, almonds, groundnuts and pistachios, all grounded together by the director here, who has taken the “risk” to tread on his own path. After all, “life mein sabse bada risk hota hai kabhi koi risk na lena” and hats off Mr. Artist, for the courage.

Diabetic, anyone? Try a bite of Barfi, in the pre-Puja session, let it melt in your mouth till you crave for another one.

Crowning Conflicts!

In the quest for freedom: A still from Chitrangada

“In the strict ranks
of Gay and Straight
what is my status?
Stray? or Great?” (Vikram Seth, Dubious)

Rituparno Ghosh’s Chitrangada : The Crowning Wish is a quest for the status: the status of a “great” or a “stray” artist and his search for “home”. Rituparno Ghosh introduces the film through a choric scene between his voice and the presence of his counselor Shubho. Rudra (Ghosh) narrates a part of the main story to him and Shubho asks him, “Eta Chitrangada ki kore bujhbe?” Rudra replies  “Golpota ta agei bole debo bolchho?” The premise of the wish-fulfilling story is set. Within the four walls of a nursing home, the introductory scene is a top-notch work of art. And as Rudra sits with his back facing the camera, switching on the 'channel' of his veins, the curtain raises, preparing the audience to enter a stage where Chitrangada, the 'text' from the Mahabharata and Tagore’s dance-drama, is used as a tool to subvert the notions of gender identity and body politics. Ghosh’s film emphasizes the age-old discourse on the conflict between biological sex and social gender. It is a movement, to put an alternative reality into praxis, beyond the limits of the theoretical bases. It becomes a “pain in pleasure” experience for the audience.

Rudra Chatterjee (Ghosh) is an obsessive, rude, “vivacious, energetic, eccentric” choreographer who wants to stage Chitrangada. As he is introduced to the junkie percussionist Partha (Jisshu Sengupta), both decide to “suffer” each other as the story progresses. Partha is Rudra’s Arjun and he is his Chitrangada, his Rudra Chatterjee, his Rudie. The first half gives a glimpse of the passion shared between the two men in the film and as Rudra narrates his past to Shubho, the narrative becomes interesting, merging the present with the past. Rudra and Partha encompass each and every nuances of a love story: brutal, emotional, physical and psychological at the same time. Yet the director chooses to retort to old-school in the depiction of their passion. A film that thrives on passion, the scenes of physical intimacy between the protagonists seem childish. Ghosh has always been bold, why does he keep things subtle here?

Things begin to change as Mala (Aparajita Auddy), a former performer in Rudra’s dance troupe comes to visit him. Aparijta in her brief role is marvelous. She breathes ease into the character of Mala who sees Partha and throws the million dollar question at him: “O tomar kodor korte parbe?” Rudra smiles at her and says, “Kodor to anekei kore, bhalobashar sahosh kojoner ache bol?” and as he sees Partha sharing his joy with Mala’s kids, Rudra comes to know how Partha is fond of children and he decides to go for  Gender Reassignment Surgery. The use of the word “Bhalobasha” however, dilutes the essence of the scene; the word “Ador” in Bengali could have been a far better usage.  Ghosh has been mistaken for his autobiographical elements in his latest films. Be it Arekti Premer Golpo or Memories in March, audience tries to seek the autobiographical traits of the director-actor in his films. True or not, that is a vague question, but the director here is intelligent, the word “kodor” makes the audience realize that here is the man who has transformed the aesthetics of the entire Bengali cine-going public with his Unishe April and the critics have constantly thwarted his recent efforts pathetically. Ghosh deserves a “kodor” from his audience, the audience to whom he has laid bare themes behind the “closet”, the audience who can still talk about him in the background, yet cannot stay away from his latest offerings. The artist in him demands that "kodor". And that Rudra has always been  a “perennial embarrassment” to his family and elsewhere is a slap on the face of the audience whose giggles and murmurs are transformed into silence as the film progresses toward intermission.

The second half of the film is a celebration of parenthood. Rudra’s parents played by Dipankar De and Anasuya Majumdar, are the show-stealers. If Indian Cinema has laughed at gay-jokes, it has also celebrated alternate sexuality under the garb of humour. If Kirron Kher as the mother could accept his son as a homosexual in a commercial flick Dostana, Rudra’s parents play a pivotal role in wish-fulfilment of their son, Khokhon (Rudra). The finest words are spoken by the mother to her son when she says that she has the right to know everything about his body since he exists because of her. Anasuya Majumdar and Dipankar De fit in every frame exhibiting their trauma, their anguish, and their fears and finally accepting their son, as he wants to be.

Ghosh uses the foot-motif artistically as he has done with his Noukadubi. And when Rudra and Partha engage themselves in a conversation regarding children and marriage, the constant background score of Sanai, symbolizing a “heterosexual” marriage reminds one of Mahesh Dattani’s play On A Muggy Night in Mumbai. The play mocks societal institution of marriage in the same way as does the particular scene in the film. The text of Tagore’s Chitrangada appears in the background to focus on the theme of gender identity. The transformation of Kurupa to Surupa is problematized and Ghosh brings in his vision of a wish fulfillment, weaving a saga of two “ostracized” and marginalized characters of the society, Rudra and Partha. However, being a strong story-teller, the literary metaphor could have been avoided, sometimes it seems a little stretched for an audience, who might not know Chitrangada too well.

Rituparno Ghosh’s Chitrangada is an example of a technically brilliant film. The man who makes these wishes come true is the cinematographer, and Ghosh’s favorite, Abhik Mukhopadhyay, who also shares the crown of assistant director of the film with Sanjoy Nag. The minimalistic use of brightness, the shades of grey and black, the sea-beach of Orissa, the nursing home room turned into a stage in a dream sequence: everything speaks of the master of this man, who had been missing in Ghosh’s film for the last few ventures. Debajyoti Mishra’s improvisations in Tagore songs and the uses of the songs in the film are aesthetically magnificent. Commendable is the selection of the songs that are not bound by gender specificity. Bodhu Kon Alo Laglo Chokhe, the instrumental refrain of Momo Chitte and Nutan Pran Dao show Ghosh’s directorial genius. Arghyakamal Maitra’s editing could have been better, editing out the scenes where the theme is constantly reminded of.

The basic question that remains unanswered to me is why did the man choose to play Rudra himself? He gives a breath-taking performance, even the gestures when he presses the keys on his cell-phone seem to follow a choreographed movement, that naturally comes to a dancer. ( It should be noted here that the director-actor, at his age, has taken the pains to train himself in the dance form, aided by Sharmila Biswas!) However, the choice of Rudra, from “heteronormative” crowd of actors could have delivered his intentions well. Ghosh, the director overshadows Rudra the choreographer. Or maybe, he really wanted to play Madan this time! The director’s approaches are self-explanatory and that has always made him stand apart from the crowd. 

The film can initially shock an audience who might not be comfortable with the theme. But hardly does a director have the courage to portray things he really wishes to show. Chitranagada: The Crowning Wish succeeds in making a wish come true, the wish of seeing the portrait of an artist fumbling to make his own choice. Rudra’s dilemma is universal; the two roads in life are but our choices. He can keep his engineering degrees locked up in his cupboard only to pursue his passion for dancing, which "fortunately" is not bound by gender. His choices in life come from the  sense of liberation that his Art form provides and he decides to live as he is, a "vivacious, energetic, eccentric"  male dancer, instead of that "half-thing".  Yes, Rudra wallows in self-pity a little too much, but his loneliness, his pain of rejection and his struggle for survival are brought on the same plane. Chitrangada remains a story in transition, it moves from the state of being to a new becoming, a story of celebrating one’s own shobhab and it’s ichchhe…its desire.

And, with the "gloss" and "spectacle", the film has a "soul" too: "Be what YOU want to be": hallucinate, fantasize, suffer, decide and do what YOU want to do!

To Lock or Not to Lock, H(e)mmm.. That is the Question!

Locked Everywhere!

Death, for teenagers, is a romantic idea. As Dhamani Ghosh (Sabyasachi Chakraborty) in Hemlock Society says that every one of us has romanticized and attempted suicide in our teens. True. But the film makes you realise how selfish and self-centred we have become. Grab the moment and live the "now and then". That’s precisely what the film tries to say. However, I was not very sure whether I should write on this particular film. Let me give you the three reasons:

Koel. I was not very sure exactly what to write about her. I am not a great writer as it is and moreover I was intimidated by my fellow viewers who have provided me with a mixed reaction.

Srijit. I was scared and kept my fingers crossed. Autograph had earned him a name overnight. 22shey Srabon was received with open arms. I prayed for his third to work. So, I decided to keep mum.

Simplicity. We have become prone to complexities. The more complex a tale and its narrative is the better for us. The simpler the fact and the narrative, the worse. Hemlock Society has a simple message and in the comparisons and contrasts, we are perhaps missing out the fun.

But then I thought, why not! So I decided to list ten reasons for liking the movie and its drawbacks too:

1.The Hemlock Society, USA was a national right-to-die organization founded in Santa Monica, California by Derek Humphry in 1980. Its primary missions included providing information to dying persons and supporting legislation permitting physician-assisted suicide. In 1992, following the publication of his book Final Exit Derek Humphry left the leadership of Hemlock Society USA. In 2003 the national organization renamed itself, and a year later merged with another group into a newly formed national organization called Compassion and Choices.. A number of unaffiliated local organizations continue to operate under variants of the Hemlock Society name. Srijit’s title is ambiguous. It is just the contrary to what it highlights. Suicide can never be an option, it never was. Well researched.

2. My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains,

        My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,

   Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains

       One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:

John Keats. Ode to a Nightingale. The title heavily borrows from the lines by one of the most adorable Romantic poets. Life has always been a tale of “fever and fret” and hemlock, a metaphor for addiction, is a respite and an escape, any day. As the film opens, the title flashes on a glass brimming with a drink and ice cubes. Hemlock Society speaks of the futility of inebriation. Remember Porter?

Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes and unprovokes. It provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery. It makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. (Macbeth)

3. References to figures, mostly from literature, who had committed suicide. And a special mention of Derrida. The director subtly tells you, he is “deconstructing” every idea about contemporary Bengali movie. And perhaps, his own image.

4. The director brings back wit. The names assigned to the professors who coach the candidates, remind you of the names from the Comedy of Manners. Bengalees love subtlety and Hemlock mesmerizes with its subtle take on humour, wit and irony of life.

5. Parambrata is the winner all the way. The best lines are written for him and even the expletive seems music to the ears!

6. Roopa Ganguly-Dipankar De track is all flesh and blood. Neither sugary, nor nyaka, the duo provides a lifetime performance. Chitto and Niharika are real.

7. The music will receive its due as the days go by. The film has been completed within a low budget and the director has taken exactly nine months to release the film after 22shey Srabon which was released almost a year after Autograph. Time constraints have marred the publicity this time. Else Anupam’s Ekhon Anek Raat, Ei To Ami Chai and Jol Phoring  would have been chartbusters already.

8. The extensive and detailed use of colours and a commendable production design are added gems to the movie. 

9. Srijit’s continuous references to old as well as new Hindi movies. His indebtedness to Tolly, Holly and Bolly has been reflected in his earlier works. Hemlock is no exception.

10. Koel is the girl in question. Having watched her in Nater Guru, Saat Panke Baadha, Subho Drishti, Paglu, Debipokhkho and a few more. I believe she needs a good director to get her dues. The effort, on the part of a director, to merge “two contrary” starts of Tolly’s soul is a laudable job done. Parambrata takes care of her follies. Let her grow up viewers!

And now, the disappointments.

135 minutes is a long time for Hemlock. Crisp and edgy design is the director’s forte. He compromises this time, to get his cyclical narrative established. Major work in terms of editing would have been great.

DOP, Soumik Halder seems to be obsessed with the camera movements. The continuous jerky movement is unnecessary and tiring after a certain point of time.And Saheb Chattopaddhay is a royal pain!

A film thrives on its own merit. Recommendations or reviews take away the essence of a film. Hemlock Society does not promise to be a thrilling and nail-biting sequel to 22shey Srabon. It is intelligent and quirky.The shortcomings can be forgiven and forgotten once you drown yourselves in the shores of Lethe.

As for you, ROPE, DOPE or HOPE? The choice is yours!

Tedha hain, lekin kisika nahin!

Tedhi-Medhi Kahaani!

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come: 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

   If this be error and upon me proved,

   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

Mr. Kunal Kohli should have signed “Hence Proved” at the end of his latest venture. Inspired thematically, and of course heavily, form a Taiwanese film Three Times, Teri Meri Kahaani is a tried, tested, boring romance; "Thrice a Love Story"  that is a disappointment. 

Set in three different era, 1910, 1960 and 2012, in three different places, Lahore, Poona and U.K., the film touches upon the loves of two people who are in love. The film celebrates love and how the lovers unite, inspite of the social, moral and blah blah blah obstacles. The director understands love well and his last releases especially his Hum Tum and Fanaa bear testimony to his mastery in treating love. Here, unfortunately, “As flies to wanton boys”, so are Priyanka-Shahid to Kunal Kohli, he kills them in the hands of a weak screenplay, for his own fun. He has taken care of a brilliant production design, thanks to the Muneesh Sappel and this has been done meticulously. But seeing the trams on Bombay roads or watching Chaplinesque movements of the hero will not be able to save a faltering storyline and a lame script. A historical setting of 1910 Lahore and a well-crafted Poona and Bombay of 1960s are the master strokes of the production designers. But what about the content? Love, Love, Love, Alone., that will perhaps lead the director-saab to leave his throne.

Aradhana/Rukhsar/Radha, Priyanka Chopra is as lively as she can be in the three different roles of the damsel. Javed/Govind/Krishh, Shahid Kapur, with his articulated movements struggles not to be the "fly". Three eras and three contexts; sometimes capturing the Indian independence movement, sometimes the Hindi film industry and sometimes the Skakespeare's Fest at Stratford-Upon-Avon, the film has touches of a moving history. Yet, everything turns bland. There's no Midas touch to reconstruct the age-old love stories strewn together to capture the triumph of love. Kohli only subverts the concept of a runaway bride and replaces that with a runaway groom, who is ready to have his nikaah accomplished with a married lady.

Except (re)educating the audiences on the net-izens’ lingo, Lols, and Rofls, and significance of smileys, there’s nothing novel for Kohlito deliver. Sajid-Wajid’s music is the only respite. Wish we could have a little more of the pretty ladies, Prachi Desai and Neha Sharma!

The next time you bump into somebody, in a train, on the terrace or on the road, remember a kahaani might be in the offing.

And for the director sir,Thank you Mr. Kunal Kohli for not making the film a punar-janam tale, you were kind enough to think of your viewers! And I remember, long back in 1997 when you hosted Chalo Cinema on Zee TV, you had severely criticized Dil To Pagal Hain for the lack of “family members” in the lives of the three characters in the film! The film went on to become a super hit sir. What is your take now? Times have changed sir, Shakespeare’s Dark Lady is now replaced by the Youth. Make something interesting next time, a bromance perhaps will fetch a few accolades!

Obscene, Top-Scene!

Choli Ke Peechhe, Khalnayak

Is Iqbal Durrani to be blamed? 1994, Govinda-Karisma starrer Khuddar. The song, I remember created ripples everywhere. The censor board immediately clipped it and asked the producers to change the word before the release. My memory of the song is a CENSORED sign flashing across the television screen as and when the song appeared for the countdown shows. Sexy, sexy, sexy mujhe log bole, hi sexy, hello sexy kyun bole?  was finally changed to Baby,baby,baby mujhe log bole! Farcical, as always!

Bollywood’s obsession with double meanings and sugar-coated vulgarity has been an interesting topic for discussion.  For that matter, I remember a film, Kyaa Dil Ne Kaaha, (a Tusshar Kapoor-Esha Deol disaster!) where someone said, you need to add the word “Bistar pe” (as in, on the bed) before or after any Hindi movie name, and what you get is sheer vulgarity! And think of a Hum Dil De Chuke Sanaam, bistar pe or a Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, bistar pe or Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, bistar pe or a more sophisticated, Guzaarish, Bistar pe!  Now that’s Bollywood for you!  But what cannot be cured, has to be endured, right? And surely, with all our criticisms and snobbery aside, we have always enjoyed the vulgarization in Hindi films.

The Not--so-coy-Mistress!

 Apart from the names, the tinsel town has always had a strange curiosity for the secrets behind a choli. After Khuddar, the song that had usurped the sweet dreams of the censor board members was Khalnayak’s Choli ke peechhe kya hain. Ila Arun (one of my most favorite moaners, of course!) and Alka Yagnik, Madhuri Dixit and Neena Gupta glorified, sensationalized and deconstructed the lifelong secret, with oomph. However, no major changes were allowed for the song and it still remains a chartbuster. But this had definitely propelled the onslaught of folk smut in the industry like never before. Arun’s rustic raunchy movements and intonations lured the music directors to use her earthly voice in the films, making the listeners go mad, although wrapped in royal fun. And then there was Main aathra baras ki ho gayee, main kya karoo? Meri chunri lambi ho gayee, main kya karoo? Meri choli chhoti ho gayee, main kya karoo? from Mamta Kulkarni’s Dilbar ; with the tailors having their share of fun, the song has now blurred into oblivion.

1994 was the historical year. After the stupendous success of Sexy, sexy, sexy, there was Vijaypath. A song in the movie goes, Kal saiyan ne aise bowling kari, raat bhar so nahi paayi; maine chauthi ballmaari, paanchvi main jhel nahi paai or Aankhen goes a level higher with the lyrics, Khet gaye baba, bazaar gayee ma! The lyricists and the music directors have never compromised their fun quotients and perhaps never considered the moral stance behind such lyrics. Indivar, Maya Govind and Sameer have always entertained the masses. And it had magically worked! The songs were banned from being played on AIR or national channels at that time, but it never dissuaded the people behind these masterpieces from composing them. Dalaal’s Chad gaya upar re, atariya pe lotan kabootar re, was hilarious. With pelvic thrusts and a gang of women lifting their sarees to the strategically placed cameras or an Amanat’s Subah ko leti hain, sham ko leti hain, kya bura karti hain? Yeh aapne sajaan ka naam leti hain worked wonders for the masses. 

The trend is not new. Khuddar used F.O. for its song. In Haathkaadi another abbreviation used was LML where the male voice goes, kya hota hain yeh LML? And the female voice answers, Let’s Make Love baby!  Years have passed by, technologies have undergone major changes, and the entire aspect of looking at a film has changed. But selling sensational tracks in the names of folk has not changed yet. And if you are aware, the latest hit from Rowdy Rathore is even more dangerous: Are pritam pyaare, banduk me na to goli mere, are pritam pyaare saab aag to meri choli me re, zaara hookkah utha, zara chillam jala…pallu ke neeche chhupake rakhkha hain, dikhdun to hungama ho, pallu ke neeche dabake rakhkha hain, dikhadun to hungama ho!

There are a number of songs that can make hungama any day. The list is endless. And with a liberal outlook in every sphere, even the censor board feels no need to clip the wings of poesy today. With the virtual world available to every human being, the lyrics of such melodious numbers surely mean no harm to the society any more.

Rowdy Roller Coaster!

The Rowdy duo

Rowdy Rathore has for its title Akshay Kumar. The Khiladi man is back to action after a long hiatus. He has unfortunately disappointed us with his comical disasters in the recent past but his Rowdy return to the action genre is indeed a pleasure. This man is the only one who makes the boat sail. Be it his comic timings, his angry looks, his action sequences or his romance, it is this Khiladi who can assure a safe run at the Box-Office. The film rests on a confusion of identities and how it is resolved till the roles are reversed for the evil to be punished and for the goodness to prevail. Shiv (Akshay Kumar) falls in love with Priya (Sonakshi Sinha). He chases her, she smiles. He steals, she smiles. He adores, she smiles. He sings, she smiles. He confesses, she smiles. Come a child in his life and his life is turned topsy-turvy. The truth is revealed and the second half is dedicated to a flashback, singing the saga of brave Vikram Rathore(Akshay) and how he had managed to dispense justice in a small town. The second half sees Akshay’s Shiva returning to the town to bring relief to the natives from the hands of tyrant. Witty dialogues and funny one-liners will draw accolades from the audience. The larger than life hero struggles against all odds to make his audience happy.Rowdy Rathore (the Faulad Ki Aulad, as the poster goes!) surely thrives on the three magic words, courtesy Silk Smitha: Entertainment, Entertainment and Entertainment (albeit, at the altar of aesthetics!)  Eternally suspended disbelief is the sole mantra for this Telegu rem

ake. The original Vikramarkudu has been reframed and remade in several other languages and the Bengali  version Bikram Singha is presently running at the city theatres. Prabhu Deva’s second Hindi directorial venture (after Salman starrer Wanted) demands that the audience never gets angry with the film. I have not seen the original, so it would be pointless to compare and contrast. But as far this Hindi remake is concerned; you can neither hate it nor ignore it. It might question your sanity yet it promises to intoxicate you with its absurdities, its incongruities and its madness. “Ek ticket main double dhamaka” says the posters of the film, and if you want that paisa-vasool feel, a morning show of RR won’t be of harm. But, be cautious; do not try to find a method for this madness.

Prabhu Deva scrounges the essence of the original movie and probably  moulds it for the Hindi knowing public. He perfectly blends every ingredient and creates a pot-boiler that is replete with vivid colours, rustic paints, melodious song and dance sequences, vibrancy and entertainment. The homespun product is an example of brilliant execution on the part of the director. There is no point critiquing the screenplay. Shiraz Ahmad maintains a taut screenplay and never fumbles. He is the chief cook who adds the exact amount of the masalas to every frame. The first half is fun but sometimes drags unnecessarily bordering on the romantic affair between the Rowdy man and his damsel. The second half comparatively runs faster. Prabhu Deva applies histrionic nuances from South and the fight sequences, the cinematography and the choreography talk of his mastery. Santosh Thundiyil’s cinematography is the treasure. Just imagine the camera zooming out of injured Akshay. It moves behind the clouds till it focuses on a large drop of rain from the clouds falling on our hero’s face, saving his momentary brain cells and giving him time to keep his word, “Jo main bolta hoon, woh main karta hoon”. And yes, there are so many of them! Akshay plays a double role (after Kukunoor’s Tasveer) and he ends up performing action, romance, dances and his comedy with elan. Sonakshi, with her cellulite-laden-baby-fat-figure, does justice to the screen time she has been allotted. The rest of the cast includes Paresh Ganatra, Nasser, Yaspal Sharma, Mushtaq Khan, Gurdeep Kohli and Darshan Jariwalla. Nasser as the antagonist is a delight and Paresh Ganatra as 2G is remarkable. The others adequately play their parts and yes, our Bebo in her cameo, shines like no one else!

Rowdy Rathore has its loose moments (countless, may be!) but the background score by Sandeep Chowta raises it above mediocrity. And Sajid-Wajid deliver a perfect blend of romantic numbers and hip-shaking melodies. Chin tata has already affected the masses and the brilliant choreography in Are Pritam Pyaare and Dhadang Dhadang adds feathers to the film. Rekha Prakash and Vishnu Deva leave no stone unturned to add to the spicy cuisine.As for the rest, Kumar Sanu sings for a film after a long time, there is a cameo by South superstar Vijay and the director himself and an epical dénouement which recalls Duryodhan’s fate. As good as it gets!

No pretensions, no false hopes, no effort to play with your grey cell. Rowdy Rathore is an entertainment package that makes you laugh and gives a scope to indulge in Coleridge’s best theorem ever written for Bollywood movies. Get Rowdy, grab Rathore!

A Delightful Tale!

A Poster of the Film

Thank you Walt Disney and UTV Motion Pictures for "The Untold Story of India’s Greatest Warrior"!

“Where there is truth, there is victory”. Arjun: The Warrior Prince begins with the dictum. The fact is, director Arnab Chaudhuri’s animated venture on one of the most sought after handsome hunks of the Indian epic is a film made from the heart and there lies its victory. The film however is neither a B.R. Chopra like never ending tale nor a multicultural blend à la Peter Brook.

The film begins in medias-res. The Bildungsroman narrative has for its narrator, a beautiful woman, who indulges in telling the story of a brave warrior Arjun to a little boy. The film captures the lives of the megalomaniac Kauravas and the victims of Fate, the Pandavas, and their lust for power. It is circumscribed around the character of Arjun, the most eligible disciple of Acharya Drona and the lessons he learns during his journey from innocence to experience. From being a mere prince who is afraid of bloodshed, he emerges as a courageous warrior, a dedicated brother and an avenger of his wife’s humiliations. Rajesh Devraj’s editing suits the need of the film and the abridged story telling is done intelligently not to meander unnecessarily, giving the film the much required crispy and edgy structure.

This animated version of the epic dares not to compete with its Western counterparts. The technology is brilliant as fas as Indian standards of animation goes and if you looking for a Madagascar, or an Ice Age or a Toy Story, I’m afraid, beware! There are a few scenes which talk about the superb efforts in technical departments. Arjun’s archery while shooting the golden fish during  Panchali’s swayamvara is a spectacular watch and so is the climax. The rich use of colours and  shades of grey are cinematographer Hemant Chaturvedi’s magic. Vishal Shekhar’s music is apt for a heroic tale and the melody of the voices of the characters adds to the flavour. Yuddvir Bokaliya’s Arjun, Sachin Khedekar’s Lord Krishna or Ila Arun’s Kunti are music to the ears.

Aimed primarily for the children, the film however shows gory violence and bloodshed on screen. The patriarchal world gains an upper hand in the narrative yet the director includes gender issues brilliantly. Look out for the intelligent mix of the ‘male’ bravery and the ‘female’ façade in the narrator. For an animated text that this film is, Arnab Chaudhuri merges several issues along with the stellar visuals to instruct as well as to delight his audience.

The narrative, both pre and post intermission is a mark of craftsmanship. However, behind the narrative and the treatment, the original essence of the epic gets somewhat blurred. For a tale of betrayal, revenge, deceit, love, passion and power that the multi layered epic provides, Arjun: The Warrior Prince fails to rise above the average. Apart from Arjun’s trajectory, nothing really evolves. Even the gallery of such brilliant characters of the epic remains somewhat stagnant. Except for a Gandhari who is taller than Dhritrashtra and a Machiavellian Shakuni mama, the other characters remain flat.

Arjun: The Warrior Prince is a refreshing change. Its faults and fissures can easily be overlooked considering the change it has brought to animation in the country. The film promises a visual treat and a thrilling dénouement, and focuses on newer dimensions in Arjuna’s portrayal, and these are reasons enough to see what it takes to be brave. Bravery is not embedded in the brawn but in the brain and this underrated animation brings this reality home.

Enjoy your stay!

Kolkata surely has lost her share of good English movies. With hardly a few movies running in the city theatres, we are not left with an option to hop theatres for a new English release. With occasional releases like The Avengers, Kolkata seems to say “That time of the year thou may’st in me behold” a good English film. Intermittently, of course, we come across such feel-good movies like John Madden’s The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel: for the elderly and beautiful. A tapestry of human relations, an exploration of old age and a saga of loneliness, the film delves into the hearts of the audience; and although it relies heavily on the exoticism of India, yet the portrayal is unpretentious. With a simple story, episodic lives, riot of colours and sounds and an ensemble that shines throughout, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is basically a celebration of love.

A “group of self-deluding old fossils” who have “outsourced” their retirement decide to visit a less expensive country like India, to have a slice of the exotic Jaipur. The hotel promises a luxurious stay when searched on the internet. However, when they arrive in Jaipur at the hotel, they face the worst. The photo-shopped images never revealed a  dilapidated building where phones are out of order. Even the platters of otherwise exotic Rohan Gosht kind of Indian dishes do not provide  any solace to their gastronomical disasters. In their struggle to cope with the adverse circumstances, masks unveil and relationships mature. Evelyn (Judi Dench), Graham (Tom Wilkinson), Muriel (Maggie Smith), Douglas (Bill Nighy), Jean (Penelope Wilton), Madge (Cilia Imrie) and Norman (Ronald Pickup) live under one roof till their lives intersect and they are ready to fight their own battles with themselves.

Evelyn has lost her husband recently only to survive his debts. Graham, a retired court judge, disappears everyday in the morning  to visist a particular place. Muriel, a retired housekeeper flies to India to have her hip replaced at a lesser expense. Douglas and Jean have waged their money for their daughter. Madge needs another man in her life and Norman still struggles for a date and either sees a sexologist or reads Kama Sutra. The film depicts how each of these characters evolve amidst the barriers in a new country. Evelyn takes up a job as a cultural advisor at a call centre to teach its employees how to talk to elders. Douglas soaks in the flavours of the city visiting temples and forts. A racist Muriel finally comes closer to her maid, an Indian woman who is supposedly ‘untouchable’ . The scene where Muriel talks about her own trials to the maid who does not understand her language is a master stroke. Even the Indian doctor who is supposed to translate Muriel remains silent and the audience realizes the pathos of these two women who  share a simliar predicament, irrespective of their colour, language and a social upbringing. Madge presents herself at a hotel as Princess Margaret, unaware that the Princess had actually died nine years ago, until the manager mocks at her effort. Her desperate efforts to find a man lands her up with Norman. Things do not materialise between them and Norman falls in love with Carol, (“as in Christmas Carol”, he says to woo her), played by Diana Hardcastle. Graham is a homosexual, “a gay more in theory than in practice” and we come to know how he had been brought up in India and how he had disgraced his lover’s family in his youth, which he still repents. As he confronts Manoj’s wife, he is astounded to realise how Manoj had revealed the greatest truth of their lives to her. They reconcile but Graham dies of a heart attack and Jean’s momentary admiration for Graham reaches newer heights. Jean doesn’t change, the only character who remains constant in her angst, her dislike for  everything good until she asks Douglas to return to Evelyn, with whom he had fallen in love. Jean realises the futility of their marriage and only in her arrival at the truth does she shine.

Sunny (Dev Patel) is the manager of the hotel. In his garrulous self, we find a man of conviction. He tries to make a man of himself, staying rooted in the hotel which had been started by his father. Unlike his elder brothers, he stays in Jaipur and dreams to make it big. Inspite of the constant railings by her mother (Lilette Dubey), he stands for his dream and chases his love Sunaina (Tara Desae). Muriel goes through the accounts of the hotel and talks to a businessman. She comes across as a Messiah who saves Sunny’s dream and his hotel and offers herself as the Assistant Manager. The film ends with Sunny and Sunaina riding a bike when they cross Evelyn and Douglas on a moped. Such a brilliant frame capturing the two generations united in love is the triumph of the film. It ends on a note of love and it promises a dawn for the elderly people who, in their quest for the best and the exotic, confronts the worst and fights their occidental ghosts.

The film is a riot of sights and sounds. Ben Davis captures Jaipur with her gamut of  richness and colours. The din and the bustle of the city provides a stark contrast to the lives of the elders. A fusion of the indian and wetern music by Thomas Newman soothes your ears and the Classical instrumentals in the background complement the essence of the film. The performers add to the verve and the Evelyn’s blog in the narrative functions like a tale told by an elder to her grandchild before the afternoon nap.

The film might seem to tread a stereotypical path in the depiction of India as exotic, but it treats the subjects with an  astute Indian-ness. Formulaic and sometimes clichéd, the film blends humour with the tragic, wit and irony, love-lorns with love(s) in a comforting scale. The performances alone are worth the two hours.

If love is what you seek, if love is what redeems, if love is what resurrects, go by my “advertisement” and trust me, you will not be lured into a trap. Book a room and enjoy your stay!

RGV, DEPART-MAN!!

Big B in Department

Shiva ushered in a director in Bollywood who would go on to change the definition of film-making in the country. Satya made him the one of the  leading no-nonsense directors of Bollywood. Ram Gopal Verma. The master mind behind such cinematic delights as Raat, Satya, Rangeela and Company surely should think of retirement; it’s time he lets go of his schizoid techniques especially his cinematographic details and should defintely wash his hands off as a story-teller. Department, the latest RGV factory product is another washout. Even the innovative cinematographic approaches can not help the film from dwindling into oblivion.

Think of every possible frames and shots that can be taken. Long shots, close-ups, jump cuts and intercuts might seem interesting in the first few frames but become so repelling for the audience as the film proceeds that you fear treading inside the zip of a goon or peeping into the cleavage of a roadside woman. With RGV, every impossibilty can become possible. These trysts  with cinematic techniques are a new addition to his films, sound being his earlier forte. Initially they look new, but as the story (as in, the lack of it) proceeds, it takes a toll on the audience.

Every performer in the film disappoints. Amitabh Bachchan (Sirji Rao), Sanjay Dutt (Mahadev) and Rana Daggubati (Shiv). Even the slitherines, Abhimanyu Singh (DK) and Madhu Shalini (Naseer) do not help. Vijay Raaz (Sawatiya) tries to shine in the ensemble, but the screenplay has nothing much to add to his credentials. And the two lady-loves, Anjana Sukhani (Bharati) and Lakshmi Manchu (Satya) do eaxctly what they are best suited to do, provide support to their counterparts and shower love. The cop-and-underworld story blurs the distiction between good and evil. But the actors are so non chalant, that the audience fails to decipher the essence of RGV’s vision.

M. Ravichandran Thevar, Siddhartha More, Zaryan Patel, Sapan Narula and Harshraj Shroff are the cinemtographers. They rock and roll and have a gala time moving the cameras according to the whimsical wishes of their director. The music department provides no relief either; Bappi Lahiri, Vikram Magi and Dharam-Sandeep, even the worst item song ever done, Dan Dan on Nathalia Kaur, goes haywire. And Vinay Abhijit’s editing needs no mention at all. Well, when the captain of the ship is self-obsessed, his crew can harldy sail.

Department is a royal pain. And only if you have an eye for fashion, look at the bell tinkling on the wrist of Bachchan. His fashion faux-pas is RGV’s delight and so can be yours! As for the rest of the things, do not even dare to sit through the DVD of the film. You would surely not like to put your physiological departments at stake!

Ram Gopal Verma, it’s high time, Depart-Man!!

Parmesan, grated and Cardamom pods!

Ishaqzaades of the season. Parma, Zoya, Atindra and Ela. A period film that goes talk-talk-talkie on discourses and counter-discourses on nationalism and patriotism with the two lovers in the centre while a Hindi pot-boiler that has a pair hurling abuses at each other,all for a political rivalry, till their hearts unite.  What remains, is Ma ja chhilen, tai e achhen. Tagore’s novella is a complex tale of metaphors regarding nationalism and enmeshed in the narrative is the story  of two hearts torn in conflict between the devotion to the nation, to each other and perhaps to the truth, they keep on seeking. The Hindi film focuses on a modern day tale of ma, maati, manush where a mother gets killed, Almore gets a heartless MLA and the common people remain victims to those in power.

Kapoor and Chopra

Habib Faisal’s love saga offers no new story and takes us back to our childhood days of Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak. But it definitely promises the rise of a new star! Parineeti Chopra is re-introduced (after her extended cameo in Ladies Vs Ricky Bahl) and she is stunning! As a rebellious and vulnerable Zoya, she adds to the otherwise hackneyed plot. As for the producer-son, Arjun Kapoor has a killer bad-boy smile and Parma suits him to the hilt. But what exactly is in store of him, will of course depend on his future works. There is one thing, however, so inspiring about him. He is supposed to have shed a number of kilos and that is an encouraging sign for  those like me, who can dream of atleast a toned family pack, if not a six!

Hindi films really have come a long way. There was a time when the actors changed their clothes thrice for one song sequence. Now, they are seen wearing the same clothes in different scenes. Realism is at its best! And yes, again a rustic hero who struggles to graduate and doesn’t feel the need to talk in English. Colonial hangover is finally coming to an end for the 'man' in Bollywood. The film flies on the wings of these two new faces and every frame is dedicated to promote the new talents, sometimes sadly at the cost of the screenplay. A refreshing face is that of Gauhar Khan whose Chand  is an amalgamation of mehtaab and aftaab, the loneliness of the moon and the scorching sun. Her presence, and her curves, literally make you go “jhalla wallah” .

Amit Trivedi’s score compliments the electrifying performances and Hemant Chaturvedi’s camera does justice in capturing imaginary Alomre. And after a long time, choreographers Rekha and Chinni Prakash make the leading pair as well Gauhar Khan shake their legs (and hips) to the refreshing dance moves. Pareshan has been picturized adroitly and so are Jhalla Wallah and Chokhra jawan re. The film sparkles through the DOP’s lenses capturing the rusticity and the rich colours symbolizing  the vibrance of the two lovers. The supporting cast has new faces and each character does justice to his/her role. The second half, almost like every other film, drags and again Aarti Bajaj, the editor, disappoints. What remains after the two hours of continuous chases and gun shots is the promise of power-house performances by Parineeti in the near future which will definitely make her audience “pareshan.” As for the story (Aditya Chopra and Habib Faisal), the first half is a Hate Story recall and the second, predictable.

If only Zoya could utter the last words like Ela to her Parma, the ending could have been dramatic indeed. What was missing in Ishaqzaade’s last scene was a lip-lock.(Or, may be Zoya would have never liked it; she had once complained about the khula-khula jagah.)“Shesh chumbon aj afuran holo Antu”; Elar Char Adhyay is another tale of passion. Ela’s passion for the land and her love. Bappaditya Bandopadhyay’s film fairly does justice to Tagore’s novella. For a philosophical text that Char Adhyay is, it is a mammoth task to adapt it on screen. Beware audience, if you are looking or sequential plots and dramatic moments, this is definitely not the film. This is neither Ray’s Charulata nor Ghosh’s Chokher Bali or Noukadubi. Here the characters talk, and talk in a language that becomes difficult for a large number of audiience to understand. The riddles and the metaphors, the discourses on patriotism and Ela and Atindra’s nature of love story do not promise an arresting audience. Kudos to the director for keeping the original dialogues from the text. However, the screenplay falters at times to capture the essence of the text.

Indranath (Indraneil Sengupta) looks rehearsed in delivering his part and so does debutant Vickram Chatterjee (Atindra). Paoli Dam as Ela is good but she could have been far better. Her zero-figure is a mismatch for a Bengali Ela. The film only thrives on its dialogues, the continuous talking that the characters engage themselves in and this where the film stands apart from the other Tagorean adaptations. The conflicts and the confrontations become the protagonists of the film. The characters merely fit into the plethora of discourses on motherland, patriotism and love.

Paoli Dam as Ela

The opening sequence is brilliant and it is indeed one of the finest beginnings seen in the recent past. Rana Dasgupta’s cinematography is top notch. Colours, rain,fire and the half done structure of the Durga idol are some some of the leit-motifs used poignantly making it poetic at times. There are a number of Tagore songs and each of them uplifts the film to a newer height. Sayak Bandopadhaya’s rendition of “majhe majhe tobo dekha pai” is the film’s USP.

Elar Char Adhyay needs patience. The dialogues are its necessary evil and if one has to enjoy the film, the talk-talk-talkie has to be endured. Love thwarted remains the crux for the both the films. The lovers are sacrificed at the altar of a power and pseudo-patriotism.  A cheroot smoking ‘mastermoshai’  in a suit talks of uprooting the British and two local groups of Almore fight for the MLA elections. All for the good of the country! And the fates of these Ishaqzaades are sealed forever! It has always been like that and perhaps will be. Both the films remain a document on factual as well as fictional historicities.

By the way, has anyone done Wuthering Heights in Hindi? Well, a Catherine and a Heathcliff are surely in the making!!

Pastiche!

It’s always good be back! I had a tough time getting my lappy repaired.. it hurt! It hurt my leisure, my zeal to write and most importantly, it hurt my pocket! All’s well that repairs well; and finally I am back to writing, penning down my thoughts as randomly as they occur to my mind.

For a long time I was dying to write about the few bad films that I had survived in the recent past. After all Hate Story and 8:08 er Bonga Local were such royal diappointments! The former is the third last offering from the Bhatt camp(the newest being Dangerous Ishq and as the name itself provides a statutory warning, I would better keep my hands off the Dangerous affair!) and the latter, an on-the-face-change-the-world Bengali movie. It is indeed interesting to see how the Bhatts are, pretty interestingly,naming their movies. They seem to  know the predicament so well ! Hate Story was hated by everyone and Dangerous Ishq is about to prove a precarious comeback of Zubeidaa. Not to mention the disastrous Kunal Deshmukh venture that refused to show the Bhatts a glimpse of ‘Jannat’ at the Box-Office!

For those who have not seen Hate Story, rejoice! For the plot is so stale that it would put the catering services at Duronto Express to shame! The only watchable ‘man’ in the film was our own Paoli D, who bared and dared to compete with Mr. Salman Khan at the take-the-sh(k)irt-off-at-the-drop-of-a-hat competition. What lovely eyes she has got, yet they fail to make any effort to raise the film beyond a soft-porn!

And 8:08 er Bonga Local! However innovative the name sounds, it failed miserably to take  the audience to the destination! The film stars Tapas Pal as a middle-class  government employee and a  ‘spineless’ man who suddenly raises his voice against corruption and almost every possible crime meted out to the common man by those in power . Awful editing,pre-historic plot and a didactic narrative created no ripples at the BO. Save the performances and the occasional background score by Tanmay Bose, the local ride proved to be a tiring journey.

 In the midst of these two venus fly traps, came one movie that stole the hearts. Vicky Donor was a sigh of relief. A novel concept (thanks to Onir though for a sensitive portrayal in I AM), a fantastic ensemble of supporting actors and definitely the ‘chemistry’ of the lead pair make this film one of the finest movies of 2012.Annu Kapoor, Dolly Ahluwalia, Kamlesh Gill, Jayanta Das and Swarupa Ghosh deserve special mention. Lajpat Nagar and CR Park add to my nostalgia, however short lived it may be! The film celebrates the arrival of a ‘new’ hero avataar in Bollywood post Band Bajaa Baraat; the leading man in the recent movies need not speak English, need not know etiquttes, need not to carry on a legacy of their forefathers and need not address their beloveds with “tum”.. “Tu” is in and Vicky (Donor) definitely gains its ceetes and taalis in the romantic spheres. A social issue, a love story and a beautiful tale on mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship make this film a must watch. Shoojit Sircar is surely to stay ‘Yahaan’, in the industry. Vicky Donor flaunts and celebrates ‘healthy’ sperms and digs at a society that perhaps fails to accept aberrations.  Here comes a movie, after a long time, that makes you laugh and cry at the same time. For those who have not seen it yet should surely give it a try. And for the producer, only if his acting career was as lucky as his debut as a producer  was! John, Ab-raham kar de apne directors par, be the ‘donor’ of such sensitive films instead!

I apologize for not putting my thoughts coherently. Let me have a look at the Ishaqzaade(s) of the season and I will be back soon. Till then let Parma fall in love with Zoya and Ela, aka Paoli D try her luck in Elar Char Adhdhay.

Do not torment me oh!

Saif Ali Khan: Aaj mere pass Bebo hain, Raghavan hain, Pritam hain.. tumhare pass kya hain?

Sujoy Ghosh: Mere pass ek ‘Kahaani’ aur ek Bidya hain.

Saif Ali Khan: Aaj mere pass, action hain, foreign locations hain, drama hain, style hain…

Sujoy Ghosh: Mere paas substance hain.

Saif Ali Khan: Aaj mere paas..

Sujoy Ghosh: Pata hain Sir, aapke paas Royal Stag hain and you have made it large. But, I guess, I have made it… larger!

No wonder, Kahaani is still drawing a ‘house-full’ crowd on a weekend and AV theatre remains only half-filled. And as for me, I wanted to watch AV for the ‘free gift’! “Dil mera muft (Muft! Muft!) ka”. I was enthusiastic about the song and Bebo. I had fallen in love with the Bolly lyrics after a long time (Caution: Amitabh Bhattacharyya is the National Award winner, who also happens to be the lyricist of the song), “Socha tumhara bhi dil hum khareedein/ Kya daam hai bolo kaato raseedein”. But, Fancy, why did you cheat us so well? I was lured into the trap. I katoed the tickets only to realize how the film tests your patience and tortures your sanity.

Agent Vinod (AV) borrows its name from a 1977 film, produced by, well, don’t be shocked, Rajshri Productions. And you always thought Rajshri could only make a Chitchor, a Maine Pyaar Kiya, a Hum Aapke Hain Kaun! or a Hum Saath Saath Hain! Anyways. Although AV pays a small tribute to the actor of the 1977 film, Mahendra Sandhu ,which happens to be one of the many names of the agent in the film, the old film really doesn’t offer much help to the new screenplay (by Sriram Raghavan and Arijit Biswas). AV plays with the names of the characters. The agent takes up various names and the characters too have screen names which are so unlike the regular Raj and Priya Malhotras. Apart from the intricacy of the names, the ‘few’ good things about the film are the retro background score by Daniel B. George, the performance of Adil Hussain (the man who played Srikanto in Anjan Das’ Iti Srikanto) and Muraleedharan’s cinematography. And, with bated breath, I am actually struggling to find out if there was remotely anything else that can be counted as good. Yes, our Vinod is good, but why did it seem to me that he was more of a producer than an actor? Raghavan’s Ek Haeesna Thi and Johnny Gaddar were so good, that here it seems that the director had left his chair to the producer from the Illuminati to ghost direct an entertainment saga. Kareena, with her weight on the positive co-ordinates of a graph, looks pale. One bad thing that has happened to this Chameli post Jab We Met is that she suffers from a trauma of getting into the Geet mode, time and again. She is otherwise an intelligent actor and the way she had managed not to fumble with Geet in Ek Main Aur Ek Tu was commendable. Here she is very conscious and much rehearsed, so unlike a natural actor that she otherwise is. Her romance with Chhote Nawab doesn’t ignite any fire. As for the rest of the cast, Zakir Hussain and Rajat Kapoor are wasted. The bad men Shahbaaz Khan, Prem Chopra, Ram Kapoor and Gulshan Grover play their allotted parts well. And Dhritimaan Chatterjee. It seems after Om Puri’s tailor-made Police Commissioner roles, he is the new found aristocratic villain in Bollywood. Time to take up new scripts Mr. Chatterjee. We have had enough of your Janus-heads in Ekti Tarar Khonje, Kahaani and now in AV. The young man who plays Jimmy (Anshuman Singh) somehow sparkles with his angst and the chill in his looks.

The story is all about a chase. Chasing a box which is portable a nuclear bomb and The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam is its detonator. The crew surely flies on the wings of poesy! And this chase continues around the world. By the time you know who is where on the globe, you actually forget the last locale. Afganisthan, Moscow, Morocco, Karachi, Somalia and New Delhi; you can avail a virtual vacation if you survive the torture.

Vinod is no Bond, for sure. This Indian version of a stylized action/suspense thriller is definitely not like its Western counterpart. It has its tit-bits of romance here and there, supposedly emotional moments but unfortunately some intolerable action sequences. Why ape English action? Action films in India have their own merit. But money has to be drained and talents, wasted! The encounters are easily managed and before you can blink, a villain gets killed. Vinod at one point in the film, expresses how he had wanted to be a painter, but somehow got stuck as an investigative agent and enjoyed being at the transitional point between life and death with every adventure.Wish he had been one and exhibited his paintings in Paris. It could have been a better career choice than being a victim of an action director, who makes a mockery of an Indian agent. Peter Heins, look back in anger!

Saif as Agent Vinod

There’s no fun in giving out a story of a film that apparently seems to be a thriller. If it’s a chase by an Indian agent, and if you are a regular movie buff, you know who is responsible for planning a blast in the capital. But beware, we have a twist. A serious issue is highlighted and a new perspective introduced on the part of the screenplay writers who never allow the film to end. It suddenly delves into a socio-political scenario, making the common men in the audience go blank. There are humorous moments in the film that stand out in the mayhem. But that doesn’t help the editor either. The film promises never to end and it changes its locations and events as you change your ringtones on the cell phone! It drags and by the time you actually come to the end, you know why the producers included the “Pungi” song (another ‘copy and paste’ by Pritam) during the final credits. Pity the audience!

A film may take two years to complete, but this can never be the product of a two-year ‘research’. Style has never been a substitute for substance. So it’s your choice. If you want to sit for almost three hours in an AC theatre and enjoy the confusion, AV is that dose of entertainment. As for me, if the Agent asks me, my answer won’t hurt him. I liked your shoes Agent, your cars and your efforts, bas “mujhe aapka film achcha nahin laga!” Yes, Sire, “They say His legacy is the one he made”. Now, with an AV added to your feather, they’ll say: it’s this dud of a film that he has also produced!