The problem with Pokkiri, the new Vijay starrer, is simply this: it does too much. There's the story of how a young, ruthless killer named Thamizh rises up the ranks of the Chennai underworld. There's the love story between him and Asin, which gets interrupted, both literally and metaphorically, by bouts of violence. Then there's the story of the corrupt police officer who has his eyes on Asin. Plus, there's a comedy track with Vadivelu.
I realize that having these many threads is par for the course in many movies, but there are moments when the begins to feel a bit crowded. Plus, there are so many gangsters, most of whom look and talk the same way, that it's difficult to keep track.
These cribs apart, Pokkiri is an entertaining ride with all the masala ingredients one expects of a Vijay potboiler. The man does his shtick, Asin looks cute, the action scenes are well shot... basic paisa vasool, no complaints.
Vijay's performance here owes as much to Mahesh Babu as to his recent movies, in all of which he plays pretty much the same character. Mahesh Babu's performance in the Telugu original came across as a lot colder and ruthless (having seen one other of the man's movies, I am now given to understand that this is his default mode) - Vijay has brought that aspect to his performance here. However, the dialogue delivery - his strongest point - is not as good here. It's different from his usual, but in his attempt to convey more steel, he ends up sounding disinterested in some of the key scenes.
The thing that struck me most obviously while watching the movie was how risque some of the material was. There's a vamp who's got a crush on him, and her dialogues, actions and facial expressions are pretty blatant. And then there's a song at a club that has lyrics just this side of Penthouse Letters. Not that I'm complaining, mind you!
Nasser has one key scene towards the end, where his performance, though well-meaning, struck the wrong note for me. There was a quiet dignity to his character that was suppressed in gavour of rhetoric. Prakash Raj has moments of comedy mixed in with violence and general evil - effective at times. Livingston makes for an impressive cop, and has a scene where he takes the press to task that he does quite well. Vadivelu, who has in recent years made slapstick fashionable again, finds new ways of getting beaten up. His signature style seems to be an active sort of masochism, and it works for him.
For Prabhudeva, this looks like a safe bet to announce himself as a director to the Tamil film industry. The movie is a remake of a Telugu superhit, has a plot and character tailormade for Vijay, and doesn't disappoint on any major counts. Start counting the money - there's a good bit of it bound to flow in.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Sea of Love
There's a little verse in this Al Pacino movie called Sea of Love. It goes:
I live alone within myself, like a house within the woods.I'm not sure why I like it so much - it's not a great verse on the whole. But somehow, the "house within the woods" imagery seems to carry it through.
I keep my heart high up upon a shelf, barren of other goods.
I need another's arms to reach for it, and place it where it belongs.
I need another's touch and smile to fill my heart with songs.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Conversational numbers
I spend a lot of time listening to movie music. The reason for this can be condensed to two words: Marathahalli Bridge. This is a little stretch in Bangalore on my way to work where I've spent a significant fraction of my adult life staring at the butt of the car before me. My only respite from this experience is the music I keep playing in the car - Tamil and Hindi film music, mostly.
I listen to and love so much of it that it's difficult to pick favourites off-hand. But a particular category that I'm quite fond of is conversational numbers - songs that involve some kind of dialogue between two or more characters. The song itself is in the form of a dialogue, and sometimes it also has actual dialogue interspersed in it. Somehow, I find these a lot more involving, and fun to listen to than the generic stuff. So here's my list of favourites in this category:
5. Jaane Kyon Log Pyaar Karte Hain, from Dil Chaahta Hai. Composed by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy. Sung by . Picturized on Aamir Khan and Priety Zinta. Playful, romantic and cynical in equal measure. (I'm also tempted to include Pyaar mein sau uljhanein hain from Kyun... Ho Gaya Na! in this list, but it's not a conversational number, strictly speaking.)
4. Ghum Hai Kisi Ke Pyaar Mein, from Rampur Ka Laxman. Composed by R. D. Burman. Sung by Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. Picturized on Randhir Kapoor and Rekha. This is pretty much the only sequence involving Randhir Kapoor that I can tolerate. The song is basically a vehicle for the two of them to tell each other how they feel. He goes first, but is shy and doesn't quite come out and say who he's talking about. She figures it's about her, and tells him she reciprocates.
3. Poongatru Thirumbumaa, from Mudhal Mariyadhai. Composed by Ilaiyaraja. Sung by Malaysia Vasudevan and S. Janaki. Picturized on Savaji Ganesan and Radha. The man is in a dejected mood and sings, almost to himself, of his loneliness. And hears a female voice singing in response, consoling him. One of the best duets I've ever heard.
2. Abhi Na Jaao Chodkar, from Hum Dono. Composed by Jaidev. Sung by Mohd. Rafi and Geeta Dutt. Picturized on Dev Anand and Sadhana. One of the best looking screen pairs of all time, and a sweet, romantic song where she wants to leave and he asks her to stay. It's a damn good song as it is, but the little touches, such as when Geeta Dutt sings Yeh hi kahoge tum sada / Ke dil abhi nahin bhara, and parodies Dev Anand in that line, or when Rafi brings a touch of gentle sarcasm when he says Bura na maano baat ka / Yeh pyaar hai gila nahin... that's what takes it from being a song to a dialogue between the lovers.
And my favourite song in this category, without doubt is...
1. Sippi Irukkudhu Muthum Irukkudhu from Varumaiyin Niram Sigappu. Composed by M. S. Viswanathan. Sung by SPB and Janaki. Picturized on Kamal Hassan and Sridevi. The song is basically a contest between the hero and the heroine - she composes a tune, and he comes up with lyrics to suit it. The exchange is playful, interesting from both a musical and lyrical standpoint, and absolutely magical.
I listen to and love so much of it that it's difficult to pick favourites off-hand. But a particular category that I'm quite fond of is conversational numbers - songs that involve some kind of dialogue between two or more characters. The song itself is in the form of a dialogue, and sometimes it also has actual dialogue interspersed in it. Somehow, I find these a lot more involving, and fun to listen to than the generic stuff. So here's my list of favourites in this category:
5. Jaane Kyon Log Pyaar Karte Hain, from Dil Chaahta Hai. Composed by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy. Sung by . Picturized on Aamir Khan and Priety Zinta. Playful, romantic and cynical in equal measure. (I'm also tempted to include Pyaar mein sau uljhanein hain from Kyun... Ho Gaya Na! in this list, but it's not a conversational number, strictly speaking.)
4. Ghum Hai Kisi Ke Pyaar Mein, from Rampur Ka Laxman. Composed by R. D. Burman. Sung by Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. Picturized on Randhir Kapoor and Rekha. This is pretty much the only sequence involving Randhir Kapoor that I can tolerate. The song is basically a vehicle for the two of them to tell each other how they feel. He goes first, but is shy and doesn't quite come out and say who he's talking about. She figures it's about her, and tells him she reciprocates.
3. Poongatru Thirumbumaa, from Mudhal Mariyadhai. Composed by Ilaiyaraja. Sung by Malaysia Vasudevan and S. Janaki. Picturized on Savaji Ganesan and Radha. The man is in a dejected mood and sings, almost to himself, of his loneliness. And hears a female voice singing in response, consoling him. One of the best duets I've ever heard.
2. Abhi Na Jaao Chodkar, from Hum Dono. Composed by Jaidev. Sung by Mohd. Rafi and Geeta Dutt. Picturized on Dev Anand and Sadhana. One of the best looking screen pairs of all time, and a sweet, romantic song where she wants to leave and he asks her to stay. It's a damn good song as it is, but the little touches, such as when Geeta Dutt sings Yeh hi kahoge tum sada / Ke dil abhi nahin bhara, and parodies Dev Anand in that line, or when Rafi brings a touch of gentle sarcasm when he says Bura na maano baat ka / Yeh pyaar hai gila nahin... that's what takes it from being a song to a dialogue between the lovers.
And my favourite song in this category, without doubt is...
1. Sippi Irukkudhu Muthum Irukkudhu from Varumaiyin Niram Sigappu. Composed by M. S. Viswanathan. Sung by SPB and Janaki. Picturized on Kamal Hassan and Sridevi. The song is basically a contest between the hero and the heroine - she composes a tune, and he comes up with lyrics to suit it. The exchange is playful, interesting from both a musical and lyrical standpoint, and absolutely magical.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The best movie review I have ever read
Roger Ebert's essay on Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru - it's so well written, so passionate in its description of the movie, that it ranks among my favourite pieces of writing in general. A lot of what Ebert has written about the movies is brilliant, but his essay on Ikiru is, I think, his best work to date.
Freeze Frame #22: Pithamagan
Pithamagan has one flaw: Laila is too loud to be credible. There, I've got that out of the way. Otherwise, this is pretty much a perfect movie. Heavy, hard-hitting, and comprising some incredible performances. So good that using anything less than superlatives to describe the performances of Vikram and Surya would be an insult.
The biggest insult of all came when Hrithik and SRK appeared on Karan Johar's Koffee with Karan and Hrithik spoke of how SRK told him that he deserved to win the National Award for Best Actor for his performance in Koi... Mil Gaya. This was the year in which Vikram won for Pithamagan. Sure, Hrithik did a great job in KMG, but that comment... If I killed SRK that night, I'd have played both movies in the courtroom in my defense and claimed justifiable homicide.
This is a movie where Vikram's performance does not have a single weak link - you don't see the actor at all. He plays Chiththan, a man who was orphaned when his mom died in a cremation ground during childbirth, and grew up there. This is a man who grew up in the company of death - he has no conception of grief, nor of happiness. His companions have been the dogs that roam the cremation ground, and his behavious comes from them. Watch how he runs, how he reacts to the situations around him, especially how he behaves in the end after he has killed the man who killed his best friend - this is no ordinary performance.
The standout moment, for me, comes when Surya and Vikram are involved in a fight inside the jail where they meet, and the policemen come to break it up. And just before the cops get to the scene of the fracas, Vikram gives his entire body a kind of shake, to get the dust off - the way dogs shake themselves off when they get wet. It's such an amazing action, it takes you totally by surprise. And if you did not see the dog analogy until then, you cannot miss it after that scene.
The biggest insult of all came when Hrithik and SRK appeared on Karan Johar's Koffee with Karan and Hrithik spoke of how SRK told him that he deserved to win the National Award for Best Actor for his performance in Koi... Mil Gaya. This was the year in which Vikram won for Pithamagan. Sure, Hrithik did a great job in KMG, but that comment... If I killed SRK that night, I'd have played both movies in the courtroom in my defense and claimed justifiable homicide.
This is a movie where Vikram's performance does not have a single weak link - you don't see the actor at all. He plays Chiththan, a man who was orphaned when his mom died in a cremation ground during childbirth, and grew up there. This is a man who grew up in the company of death - he has no conception of grief, nor of happiness. His companions have been the dogs that roam the cremation ground, and his behavious comes from them. Watch how he runs, how he reacts to the situations around him, especially how he behaves in the end after he has killed the man who killed his best friend - this is no ordinary performance.
The standout moment, for me, comes when Surya and Vikram are involved in a fight inside the jail where they meet, and the policemen come to break it up. And just before the cops get to the scene of the fracas, Vikram gives his entire body a kind of shake, to get the dust off - the way dogs shake themselves off when they get wet. It's such an amazing action, it takes you totally by surprise. And if you did not see the dog analogy until then, you cannot miss it after that scene.
Freeze Frame #21: Nanda
Nanda was Surya's breakout movie, the one that transformed him from a generic romantic hero to an actor of substance. A number of movies that came afterwards cemented that position - Kaakka Kaakka (the best cop drama in Tamil cinema bar none, in my opinion), Perazhagan (his most astounding performance to date), Pithamagan (stole nearly every scene he was in)... but Nanda was where it began.
The movie is about a boy who kills his abusive father as a kid when the guy is beating up his mom. The mom goes crazy, and believes that her son is a cold-blooded killer. The son goes to juvenile prison, and when he emerges, circumstances lead him to work as a henchman for the local bigwig (a towering performance by Raj Kiran). He's pretty good at what he does, and quickly moves up the ranks to become the Raj Kiran's right hand man. All the while, he attempts to reconcile with his mom, but all she seems to see of his is his violent side. Meanwhile, his ascent triggers the jealousy and insecurity of Raj Kiran's son. The consequences are obvious - son kills father, Nanda kills son. So far so good. But Bala has a slingshot ending up his sleeve - when Nanda comes home to eat before fleeing the town with his sweetheart (played by a surprisingly tolerable Laila), his mom poisons him, believing that her son is too much of a violent force to be let loose. Throughout the movie, we can see that she is a bit mad, but this is essentially where it all comes to a head. True, we've seen mothers kill wayward sons before (Mother India, Vaastav), but not like this. Not like this.
With a trio of offbeat movies of phenomenal power (Sethu, Nanda and Pithamagan), Bala has emerged as the K.Balachander of our time - if KB took Rajni and Kamal and made stars out of them, Bala has done that with Vikram and Surya. The difference, though, is that KB's product was relatively more mainstream. And he never hit this hard.
The movie is about a boy who kills his abusive father as a kid when the guy is beating up his mom. The mom goes crazy, and believes that her son is a cold-blooded killer. The son goes to juvenile prison, and when he emerges, circumstances lead him to work as a henchman for the local bigwig (a towering performance by Raj Kiran). He's pretty good at what he does, and quickly moves up the ranks to become the Raj Kiran's right hand man. All the while, he attempts to reconcile with his mom, but all she seems to see of his is his violent side. Meanwhile, his ascent triggers the jealousy and insecurity of Raj Kiran's son. The consequences are obvious - son kills father, Nanda kills son. So far so good. But Bala has a slingshot ending up his sleeve - when Nanda comes home to eat before fleeing the town with his sweetheart (played by a surprisingly tolerable Laila), his mom poisons him, believing that her son is too much of a violent force to be let loose. Throughout the movie, we can see that she is a bit mad, but this is essentially where it all comes to a head. True, we've seen mothers kill wayward sons before (Mother India, Vaastav), but not like this. Not like this.
With a trio of offbeat movies of phenomenal power (Sethu, Nanda and Pithamagan), Bala has emerged as the K.Balachander of our time - if KB took Rajni and Kamal and made stars out of them, Bala has done that with Vikram and Surya. The difference, though, is that KB's product was relatively more mainstream. And he never hit this hard.
Freeze Frame #20: 16 Vayathinilae
In an earlier post, I had spoken of my admiration of Bharathiraja, and how he wrote the rule book for village films with 16 Vayathinilae. That movie, more than any others I have seen that came before it, brought that milieu to life. Somehow, earlier movies never really got their hands dirty while making a movie about the heat and dust of rural Tamil Nadu - there seemed to be some distance between the makers and their subject. That went away with this movie. In its own way, I think 16 Vayathinilae did to the village film in Tamil cinema, what Marlon Brando's portrayal of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire did to acting in Hollywood.
For me, the defining moment in that movie was right at the beginning, during the title sequence. The movie did something that I had never seen before: it showed each of the main characters and did a freeze frame while the name appeared on screen, but the name shown was not that of the actor, but that of the character. This doesn't seem like much now, considering how often this has been done in the movies. But to me, this was essentially what made me sit up and watch the film with a lot more interest than I would otherwise have had.
For me, the defining moment in that movie was right at the beginning, during the title sequence. The movie did something that I had never seen before: it showed each of the main characters and did a freeze frame while the name appeared on screen, but the name shown was not that of the actor, but that of the character. This doesn't seem like much now, considering how often this has been done in the movies. But to me, this was essentially what made me sit up and watch the film with a lot more interest than I would otherwise have had.
Filmfare Awards (2006): My predictions
The Filmfare awards have long been the barometer of public opinion on the year's Hindi movies. Public opinion, mind you, not necessarily quality. A knockout performance in a little known movie stands no chance against SRK in the latest tearjerker about some rich guy named Rahul and his love life, as far as the Filmfare awards are concerned. This simplifies things when it comes to making predictions about the big winners, since there is often just one, maybe two blockbusters in any given year. This year, though, is different. There have been so many superhits that a number of people stand a chance. So predicting the winners this time is gonna be more interesting. For what it's worth, here are my picks:
Best Actor: Nominees will almost certainly include Hrithik Roshan (Krrish, Dhoom 2), Aamir Khan (Rang De Basanti, Fanaa) and Sanjay Dutt (Lage Raho Munnabhai). SRK (KANK, Don) and Amitabh Bachchan (Baabul) are likely to make it to the list as well. Shreyas Talpade probably deserves a nom for Dor, but I don't know how many people saw that movie for him to make it. As for the winner, I think it's a toss-up between Hrithik and Sanjay - Hrithik is more deserving of the two, but Sanjay might win.
Best Actress: A very weak category this year. Nominees will definitely include Kajol (Fanaa). Other possibilities are Priyanka Chopra (for something or the other - she's everywhere these days), Ayesha Takia (Dor), Kareena Kapoor (Omkara), Aishwarya Rai (Umrao Jaan, Dhoom 2) and Rani Mukherjee (KANK). The statuette will go to Kajol - Kajol's always been a Filmfare favourite, people love a big comeback, and she was clearly the best reason to watch Fanaa.
Best Supporting Actor: Abhishek will probably get nominated for KANK, Amitabh might get one as well (for the same movie), Siddharth (RDB) will make it to the shortlist for sure. Am not sure who else, actually. My guess is, either Abhishek or Siddharth will win.
Best Supporting Actress: Weak category. So weak, I don't really care who gets nominated or wins. But for what it's worth, I think it will be Konkona Sensharma for Omkara. Other nominees will probably be Rekha, Preity Zinta etc.
Best Actor in a Villainous Role: Saif Ali Khan will win this one at a canter for Omkara. Anyone else will probably come a distant second.
Best Actor in a Comic Role: Arshad Warsi for Lage Raho. It's a solid performance, among the better comic turns this year, and he's gathered so much goodwill with his last few screen appearances that they simply can't not give it to him this time.
Best Music: A. R. Rehman for RDB seems the most likely choice. Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy will get nominated for Don and KANK.
Best Director: Nominees will include Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra (RDB), Rajkumar Hirani (Lage Raho Munnabhai) and Vishal Bharadwaj (Omkara). I'm not sure I care about the rest. Rakeysh will probably win - RDB was good, and more people saw it.
Best Picture: RDB will win, I think. Other nominees will include Lage Raho Munnabhai and Fanaa.
Note: This is still a work in progress. I might change my picks anytime until the awards night comes around.
Best Actor: Nominees will almost certainly include Hrithik Roshan (Krrish, Dhoom 2), Aamir Khan (Rang De Basanti, Fanaa) and Sanjay Dutt (Lage Raho Munnabhai). SRK (KANK, Don) and Amitabh Bachchan (Baabul) are likely to make it to the list as well. Shreyas Talpade probably deserves a nom for Dor, but I don't know how many people saw that movie for him to make it. As for the winner, I think it's a toss-up between Hrithik and Sanjay - Hrithik is more deserving of the two, but Sanjay might win.
Best Actress: A very weak category this year. Nominees will definitely include Kajol (Fanaa). Other possibilities are Priyanka Chopra (for something or the other - she's everywhere these days), Ayesha Takia (Dor), Kareena Kapoor (Omkara), Aishwarya Rai (Umrao Jaan, Dhoom 2) and Rani Mukherjee (KANK). The statuette will go to Kajol - Kajol's always been a Filmfare favourite, people love a big comeback, and she was clearly the best reason to watch Fanaa.
Best Supporting Actor: Abhishek will probably get nominated for KANK, Amitabh might get one as well (for the same movie), Siddharth (RDB) will make it to the shortlist for sure. Am not sure who else, actually. My guess is, either Abhishek or Siddharth will win.
Best Supporting Actress: Weak category. So weak, I don't really care who gets nominated or wins. But for what it's worth, I think it will be Konkona Sensharma for Omkara. Other nominees will probably be Rekha, Preity Zinta etc.
Best Actor in a Villainous Role: Saif Ali Khan will win this one at a canter for Omkara. Anyone else will probably come a distant second.
Best Actor in a Comic Role: Arshad Warsi for Lage Raho. It's a solid performance, among the better comic turns this year, and he's gathered so much goodwill with his last few screen appearances that they simply can't not give it to him this time.
Best Music: A. R. Rehman for RDB seems the most likely choice. Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy will get nominated for Don and KANK.
Best Director: Nominees will include Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra (RDB), Rajkumar Hirani (Lage Raho Munnabhai) and Vishal Bharadwaj (Omkara). I'm not sure I care about the rest. Rakeysh will probably win - RDB was good, and more people saw it.
Best Picture: RDB will win, I think. Other nominees will include Lage Raho Munnabhai and Fanaa.
Note: This is still a work in progress. I might change my picks anytime until the awards night comes around.
Dhoom 2
Okay, here's my problem with Sanjay Gadhvi, the man behind the two Dhoom movies. He's got a nice visual style, a reasonably talented cast and a knack for making women look gorgeous, but he's forgotten a very basic ingredient. He's making movies about a cop on the trail of some great thieves. But not once does he invest enough in the scenes showing the actual crime. You've got the setup, you've got the scenes where the cop (Abhishek Bachchan) talks admiringly of the criminal and his methods... But the robberies themselves are handled so perfunctorily that all this seems for naught. And the chase/fight sequences afterwards have no zing. The movie makes it a point to advertise its high speed chases, but spends so much time in slo-mo that one never really gets a sense of the wind blowing through the actors' hair. Both the robbery and the chase afterwards feel as sterile as the demo section of a video game.
At least Dhoom was fresh and had a few things going for it. For starters, Esha Deol looked phenomenal. Her intro, where the camera slowly pans up her legs and you realize that it's taken a couple of seconds longer than you thought it would before it reaches the hemline of her skirt, was an event in itself. Abhishek Bachchan finally found a role that could showcase his particular brand of brooding screen presence. And I've always had a bit of a soft spot for Uday Chopra - he reminds me of what Saif Ali Khan used to be back in the days of Yeh Dillagi, although I'm leery of predicting that he'd go as far as Saif has in the years since.
This one, on the other hand, is a disaster. They got Abhishek and Uday back to doo their shtick, but neither actor really takes off. Uday sounds like he's trying too hard, and Abhishek replaces acting with general glowering. They've added Bipasha to the mix, just to up the glamour quotient (I thought Rimi Sen did just fine in the first one, but I guess it wasn't enough), and given her a few bikinis to wear on Copacabana beach in Rio. Her contribution to the movie is essentially that: wearing a bikini in Rio.
On the other hand, the man got imaginative when it came to the villains. The Dhoom movies have to have a supervillain, so they got Hrithik Roshan this time around. And for good measure, they added Aishwarya Rai as his sidekick. The first part works brilliantly - Hrithik is in top form here, and is far and away the most watchable thing about the movie. Ash starts off well - she looks gorgeous when you see her for te first time. And then she opens her mouth.
Someday, many years from now, Ash will probably occupy the same pedestal as Hema Malini - a gorgeous woman whose fatal flaw was that she wasn't mute. Ash's dialogue delivery and acting in this movie is so atrocious, it could singlehandedly sink the movie, even if the others didn't do such a splendid job of sinking it anyway.
One of the best scenes in Dhoom, I felt, was the conversation between Abhishek and John in the end - both actors were at their best in that scene. I guess Sanjay thought the same thing, and figured that the key was to give us a great villain, and work on the scenes with the cop and the criminal. The strategy works: Abhishek's only good scenes in the entire movie are those with Hrithik. Those are the only moments when he seems to be anything other than a cardboard cut-out. But these are small consolations in a big movie: the rest of what happens on screen is so phenomenally insipid, it makes the whole product hopeless.
Apparently, there's a Dhoom 3 in the works, with SRK as the villain this time. Not surprising, really: even when I heard about the second movie, my prediction was that, if this one's successful, there'll be one more, and my only question was, which of SRK or Big B would be the villain this time.
I can only hope that Sanjay Gadhvi gets it right the third time around. But I'm not holding my breath.
At least Dhoom was fresh and had a few things going for it. For starters, Esha Deol looked phenomenal. Her intro, where the camera slowly pans up her legs and you realize that it's taken a couple of seconds longer than you thought it would before it reaches the hemline of her skirt, was an event in itself. Abhishek Bachchan finally found a role that could showcase his particular brand of brooding screen presence. And I've always had a bit of a soft spot for Uday Chopra - he reminds me of what Saif Ali Khan used to be back in the days of Yeh Dillagi, although I'm leery of predicting that he'd go as far as Saif has in the years since.
This one, on the other hand, is a disaster. They got Abhishek and Uday back to doo their shtick, but neither actor really takes off. Uday sounds like he's trying too hard, and Abhishek replaces acting with general glowering. They've added Bipasha to the mix, just to up the glamour quotient (I thought Rimi Sen did just fine in the first one, but I guess it wasn't enough), and given her a few bikinis to wear on Copacabana beach in Rio. Her contribution to the movie is essentially that: wearing a bikini in Rio.
On the other hand, the man got imaginative when it came to the villains. The Dhoom movies have to have a supervillain, so they got Hrithik Roshan this time around. And for good measure, they added Aishwarya Rai as his sidekick. The first part works brilliantly - Hrithik is in top form here, and is far and away the most watchable thing about the movie. Ash starts off well - she looks gorgeous when you see her for te first time. And then she opens her mouth.
Someday, many years from now, Ash will probably occupy the same pedestal as Hema Malini - a gorgeous woman whose fatal flaw was that she wasn't mute. Ash's dialogue delivery and acting in this movie is so atrocious, it could singlehandedly sink the movie, even if the others didn't do such a splendid job of sinking it anyway.
One of the best scenes in Dhoom, I felt, was the conversation between Abhishek and John in the end - both actors were at their best in that scene. I guess Sanjay thought the same thing, and figured that the key was to give us a great villain, and work on the scenes with the cop and the criminal. The strategy works: Abhishek's only good scenes in the entire movie are those with Hrithik. Those are the only moments when he seems to be anything other than a cardboard cut-out. But these are small consolations in a big movie: the rest of what happens on screen is so phenomenally insipid, it makes the whole product hopeless.
Apparently, there's a Dhoom 3 in the works, with SRK as the villain this time. Not surprising, really: even when I heard about the second movie, my prediction was that, if this one's successful, there'll be one more, and my only question was, which of SRK or Big B would be the villain this time.
I can only hope that Sanjay Gadhvi gets it right the third time around. But I'm not holding my breath.
Bhagam Bhag
This seems to be a bad time for me to consider watching a Hindi movie. Consider the last few movies I've watched:
1. Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna: I was on a bus from Hyderabad to Bangalore and they played it during the journey. I've never really considered jumping off a moving bus before, but I came close that night. I mean, heck, isn't there something in the Geneva Convention that bans this sort of punishment?
2. Vivaah: Nothing happens in this movie. I mean nothing. The best thing I can say about it is that the term "comfortably numb" applies well to it. It doesn't make you cringe as often as Main Prem Ki Deewani Hoon, if that's any consolation.
3. Baabul: Same as above, but with more melodrama, although maybe I should spell it "mellow-drama". What the heck is happening here? Did the National Association of Insomniacs go petition the big Bollywood studios or something?
4. Dhoom 2: I remember reading somewhere that the most popular reason for making a sequel is that the first film made money. Unfortunately, in most cases, that's where reason bails out and the suits take over. Dhoom 2 is one such debacle, a perfect example of form replacing content.
And now Bhagam Bhag, a comic caper I had pinned much of my hopes on. Paresh Rawal, Akshay Kumar, Priyadarshan at the helm, Govinda making a comeback... it all sounded good on paper. I should've read the signs more carefully: when the makers decide to include a "rap number" featuring the heroes at the last moment, it is usually because they saw the rushes and realized that the rest of the movie was crap.
The movie basically involves a troupe of performers in London to do a show. The heroine bails out at the last moment, so they search for a replacement. The replacement turns out to have suicidal tendencies, and immolates herself one night. But then it turns out that she's not dead. And then... do you really want to hear the rest of this?
Now, I have no problems per se with the idea of a screwball plot that piles one contrivance on top of another. What I do have a problem with is this: the movie is simply not funny. I don't remember laughing even once. I chuckled a couple of times, but that's about it. Govinda appears desperate, trying to replace comic timing with perpetual annoyance. Paresh Rawal has precious little to do, and he does even less: as performances go, this one compares with Satish Shah playing a dead man in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron, but with none of the comic potential. Only Akshay Kumar looks moderately alive - he's the pick of a bad lot.
I guess the basic problem is this: the makers probably decided on the star cast first, and were so enamoured by the comic possibilities inherent in such a cast that they forgot to actually make the movie. Somebody's got to remind these idiots that they have to do something in order to be funny, they can't just exist and expect people to laugh.
1. Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna: I was on a bus from Hyderabad to Bangalore and they played it during the journey. I've never really considered jumping off a moving bus before, but I came close that night. I mean, heck, isn't there something in the Geneva Convention that bans this sort of punishment?
2. Vivaah: Nothing happens in this movie. I mean nothing. The best thing I can say about it is that the term "comfortably numb" applies well to it. It doesn't make you cringe as often as Main Prem Ki Deewani Hoon, if that's any consolation.
3. Baabul: Same as above, but with more melodrama, although maybe I should spell it "mellow-drama". What the heck is happening here? Did the National Association of Insomniacs go petition the big Bollywood studios or something?
4. Dhoom 2: I remember reading somewhere that the most popular reason for making a sequel is that the first film made money. Unfortunately, in most cases, that's where reason bails out and the suits take over. Dhoom 2 is one such debacle, a perfect example of form replacing content.
And now Bhagam Bhag, a comic caper I had pinned much of my hopes on. Paresh Rawal, Akshay Kumar, Priyadarshan at the helm, Govinda making a comeback... it all sounded good on paper. I should've read the signs more carefully: when the makers decide to include a "rap number" featuring the heroes at the last moment, it is usually because they saw the rushes and realized that the rest of the movie was crap.
The movie basically involves a troupe of performers in London to do a show. The heroine bails out at the last moment, so they search for a replacement. The replacement turns out to have suicidal tendencies, and immolates herself one night. But then it turns out that she's not dead. And then... do you really want to hear the rest of this?
Now, I have no problems per se with the idea of a screwball plot that piles one contrivance on top of another. What I do have a problem with is this: the movie is simply not funny. I don't remember laughing even once. I chuckled a couple of times, but that's about it. Govinda appears desperate, trying to replace comic timing with perpetual annoyance. Paresh Rawal has precious little to do, and he does even less: as performances go, this one compares with Satish Shah playing a dead man in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron, but with none of the comic potential. Only Akshay Kumar looks moderately alive - he's the pick of a bad lot.
I guess the basic problem is this: the makers probably decided on the star cast first, and were so enamoured by the comic possibilities inherent in such a cast that they forgot to actually make the movie. Somebody's got to remind these idiots that they have to do something in order to be funny, they can't just exist and expect people to laugh.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
The best movie posters of 2006
Sam's Myth: TOP FIVE: 2006 Movie Posters
Not my pick, since this isn't a category I follow. But this is a good list, from what I can see.
Not my pick, since this isn't a category I follow. But this is a good list, from what I can see.
Freeze Frame #19: Pulp Fiction
The soul of Pulp Fiction lies in its dialogue - profane, literate, whimsical and incredibly well-delivered. In fact, the dialogue is so important to the movie, its characters are a lot more interested in what they're saying than who they're shooting (or being shot at by, for that matter). This is an extremely interesting choice, in my opinion. It has been my experience that most people with a loaded gun in the movies have nothing to say other than plot points. The chief pleasure of Pulp Fiction is in listening to its characters talk. What happens is besides the point.
The scene that encapsulates this particular value for me comes early in the film, when two hitmen named Jules and Vincent (played by Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta respectively) have a conversation on their way to a job. The topic is their boss Marsellus Wallace's wife Mia, whom Vincent is supposed to take out to dinner that evening. Jules tells him about one of their acquaintances whom Marsellus threw out a window because he caught him giving Mia a foot massage. They're right in the middle of an argument about whether or not a foot massage means anything - whether touching his wife's feet and sticking your tongue in her holiest of holies are in the same ballpark, to use Jules' words - when they reach the door of the apartment they're supposed to enter. Jules looks at his watch, figures they still have some time, and they go down the corridor to finish their discussion.
Think about this:
a) They have a fairly long conversation about something that has nothing to do with the job they're there to do. The purpose of the exchange is to set the scene for Vincent's date with Mia later that evening, but that would've been achieved by simply mentioning what Marsellus did; the argument thereafter served no real purpose.
b) There's nothing that happens in that apartment after they enter, that they couldn't have done earlier. They just took their time about it, so they could finish talking. I especially love what Jules says when their discussion is over: "Come on, let's get into character." Then they go into that apartment, play the hard men, and kill a few people.
Exactly how often does this happen in the movies?
The scene that encapsulates this particular value for me comes early in the film, when two hitmen named Jules and Vincent (played by Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta respectively) have a conversation on their way to a job. The topic is their boss Marsellus Wallace's wife Mia, whom Vincent is supposed to take out to dinner that evening. Jules tells him about one of their acquaintances whom Marsellus threw out a window because he caught him giving Mia a foot massage. They're right in the middle of an argument about whether or not a foot massage means anything - whether touching his wife's feet and sticking your tongue in her holiest of holies are in the same ballpark, to use Jules' words - when they reach the door of the apartment they're supposed to enter. Jules looks at his watch, figures they still have some time, and they go down the corridor to finish their discussion.
Think about this:
a) They have a fairly long conversation about something that has nothing to do with the job they're there to do. The purpose of the exchange is to set the scene for Vincent's date with Mia later that evening, but that would've been achieved by simply mentioning what Marsellus did; the argument thereafter served no real purpose.
b) There's nothing that happens in that apartment after they enter, that they couldn't have done earlier. They just took their time about it, so they could finish talking. I especially love what Jules says when their discussion is over: "Come on, let's get into character." Then they go into that apartment, play the hard men, and kill a few people.
Exactly how often does this happen in the movies?
Freeze Frame #18: The General
How many of you have seen a Buster Keaton movie? He's not as well-known as Charlie Chaplin, but his comedic talents are no less prodigious. He was also an amazingly courageous stunt man - not only did he do his own stunts - some of them quite amazing - he even used to be a stunt double for some of the other actors in his films. Knowing this fact makes it all the more impressive when you see his films. A stunt I was particularly impressed by is one in Steamboat Bill Jr. where he's standing before a house and the wall comes down on him, but he goes right through an open window on the wall. Roger Ebert mentions in his essay on Buster's films, that he didn't rehearse that scene because he trusted his crew and his planning and was confident it would go off well.
However, my iconic Buster Keaton moment, the one that immediately springs to mind every time his name is mentioned, is from The General. Buster has just been refused an opportunity to enlist as part of the Confederate army in the Civil War, since his skills as an engineer are considered far more valuable. His girlfriend, however, refuses to listen to his explanations, and declines to talk to him unless he is in uniform. Dejected, Buster goes back to the railway yard and sits on the crossbar of his engine, wishing he could solve this problem. Unbeknownst to him, his assistant has gotten into the cab of the engine and started it. The scene ends with the visual of Buster being carried along on the cross-bar, his thin frame carried up and down with its movements.
However, my iconic Buster Keaton moment, the one that immediately springs to mind every time his name is mentioned, is from The General. Buster has just been refused an opportunity to enlist as part of the Confederate army in the Civil War, since his skills as an engineer are considered far more valuable. His girlfriend, however, refuses to listen to his explanations, and declines to talk to him unless he is in uniform. Dejected, Buster goes back to the railway yard and sits on the crossbar of his engine, wishing he could solve this problem. Unbeknownst to him, his assistant has gotten into the cab of the engine and started it. The scene ends with the visual of Buster being carried along on the cross-bar, his thin frame carried up and down with its movements.
Freeze Frame #16 & #17: Iruvar
My favourite Mani Rathnam movie of all time. Yes, even more than Mouna Raagam, Nayakan or the movie I just raved about in an earlier post - Kannathil Muthamittal. I can't quite explain why.
Iruvar is the story of two men, both destined to shape the future of Tamil Nadu politics. One is an actor, the other a writer. They start out as friends, then become comrades in the political arena, then rivals, then just a couple of old men with a lot of baggage but not enough energy to carry it anymore.
Two larger than life protagonists, both played by great actors. A story whose broad outlines most Tamilians with a grasp of recent history can recognize. Little wonder that the women don't have too much to do. Yet, my two favourite scenes in the movie both involve the women.
1. Tabu plays Senthamarai, a school teacher in a village in Tamil Nadu who catches the eye of Thamizhselvam (Prakash Raj in the Karunanidhi role) when he is at a protest rally. He writes to her and asks her to come to him. And she does. He is a married man, and the concept of a divorce is not only alien to the culture of that time, but would also mean political suicide. She asks him, "Who am I here? What is my position?" And he replies, "My darling. My lover. My friend." He explains with his eyes what that list does not contain, and why it can never contain it. She processes this, ponders for a moment and smiles, eyes shining with unshed tears.
The next scene shows the couple on the floor on the bedroom after their coupling, while the lines Unnodu naan vaazhntha ovvoru maniththuliyum, maranappadukkaiyilum marakkathu kanmaniye (Every moment I have lived with you, I will never forget to my dying breath) are uttered in the background. It's a beautiful poem, very well rendered, quite poignant. But I think it would've been far less powerful, had it not been preceded by that sublime moment between Prakash Raj and Tabu.
2. After he becomes the chief minister, on the way home, Selvam changes his mind midway and asks his driver to direct the car to Senthamarai's place. One of his aides calls up his house to inform his wife Maragatham (played by Revathy) of the change in plans. She is in the middle of some housework when the call comes. You don't hear what is said - you just see her face. She listens, her face falls for a moment, then with a resigned look, she goes back to her housework. Revathy has about 10 minutes of screen time in a three hour movie. Most of it is nondescript. But in that one moment, without a single line of dialogue, she captures the essence of her character.
Iruvar is the story of two men, both destined to shape the future of Tamil Nadu politics. One is an actor, the other a writer. They start out as friends, then become comrades in the political arena, then rivals, then just a couple of old men with a lot of baggage but not enough energy to carry it anymore.
Two larger than life protagonists, both played by great actors. A story whose broad outlines most Tamilians with a grasp of recent history can recognize. Little wonder that the women don't have too much to do. Yet, my two favourite scenes in the movie both involve the women.
1. Tabu plays Senthamarai, a school teacher in a village in Tamil Nadu who catches the eye of Thamizhselvam (Prakash Raj in the Karunanidhi role) when he is at a protest rally. He writes to her and asks her to come to him. And she does. He is a married man, and the concept of a divorce is not only alien to the culture of that time, but would also mean political suicide. She asks him, "Who am I here? What is my position?" And he replies, "My darling. My lover. My friend." He explains with his eyes what that list does not contain, and why it can never contain it. She processes this, ponders for a moment and smiles, eyes shining with unshed tears.
The next scene shows the couple on the floor on the bedroom after their coupling, while the lines Unnodu naan vaazhntha ovvoru maniththuliyum, maranappadukkaiyilum marakkathu kanmaniye (Every moment I have lived with you, I will never forget to my dying breath) are uttered in the background. It's a beautiful poem, very well rendered, quite poignant. But I think it would've been far less powerful, had it not been preceded by that sublime moment between Prakash Raj and Tabu.
2. After he becomes the chief minister, on the way home, Selvam changes his mind midway and asks his driver to direct the car to Senthamarai's place. One of his aides calls up his house to inform his wife Maragatham (played by Revathy) of the change in plans. She is in the middle of some housework when the call comes. You don't hear what is said - you just see her face. She listens, her face falls for a moment, then with a resigned look, she goes back to her housework. Revathy has about 10 minutes of screen time in a three hour movie. Most of it is nondescript. But in that one moment, without a single line of dialogue, she captures the essence of her character.
Freeze Frame #13, #14, #15: Kannathil Muthamittal
One of the recurring themes in Mani Rathnam's movies is that of an individual or a family caught in a social maelstrom. Kannathil Muthamittal is one such, depicting a little girl's search for her biological mother in civil war-ravaged Sri Lanka. For the most part, the movie is, I think, pitch perfect. It overdoes it right at the very end, and it's kind of a glaring flaw, but I'm inclined to forgive that - to paraphrase what Einstein once said t Wheeler, he has earned the right to be wrong occasionally.
Three scenes stand out in my opinion. The first is well-known and quite often mentioned by reviewers. The second is not often mentioned, I think. And the third is the big payoff.
1. There's a scene where a village is being evacuated before the Sri Lankan air force bombs the place. An amazing song - Vidai Kodu Engal Naade - plays in the background. (Amazing how A. R. Rehman picks an unconventional but absolutely perfect voice to render some of his songs - this one is by M. S. Viswanathan, and simply blows me away every time I hear it.) The standout moment involves the old temple priest in the village who refuses to leave the place he has lived in all his life. You see him standing there, defiantly ringing the temple bell as the bombs explode all around him. Poetic.
2. Right at the end, the girl Amudha finally gets her wish - she meets her biological mother Shyama. And she asks her, "Why did you leave me? Why did you never come to see me?"
Shyama had gone back to Sri Lanka soon after giving birth to her in Rameswaram over ten years ago, and joined the ranks of the LTTE. Her husband is dead, she has probably seen many of her comrades, friends and family members die during these years, and has trained herself to concentrate single-mindedly on her chosen purpose. This unexpected meeting with her child, and that question, leaves her sandbagged.
She pauses for a moment, and simply says "Tarunam appadi." (Loosely translated, "The circumstances were such.") It is a testament to Nandita Das' acting, and to Mani Rathnam's skill, that those two words are all we need.
3. This one involves Simran. For years, her function in the movies was to look pretty, and she did that admirably. The sole blip on the radar was Vaali, and I felt even that performance was overrated. When I watched Kannathil Muthamittal for the first time, I noticed the performances of Keerthana, who plays Amudha, and Nandita Das, who has about 10 minutes of screen time and uses it exceptionally well.
The second time around, I concentrated on Simran. Hers is an interesting role: she plays Indira, Amudha's adoptive mother who, along with her husband, searches for her daughter's biological parent. She never really verbalizes it, but there's a feeling of insecurity that comes with that search. It comes out in little ways, like when she has little fights with her daughter. And watch how she winces almost imperceptibly every time her daughter mentions that they're in Sri Lanka to look for her "real mother". (That's why I've been using the word "biological" ad nauseam, by the way.)
Right at the end of the movie, when Shyama is walking away after the big meeting, Amudha turns and gives Indira a big kiss on the cheek. To the girl, it's probably just a way od saying thank you, for helping her find her mother. But to Indira, it means so much more, and you see her face light up.
When I watched the movie for the first time, this moment didn't do anything for me. But on the second viewing, I was concentrating on Indira, and Simran did such a great job of conveying the character's inner turmoil while staying mostly in the background, that the last kiss totally made my day.
I realized then that the movie was not about the girl, or about her search, or about the Sri Lankan conflict. All that is just the backdrop for Indira's story. And the title of the movie (translated to "she kissed me on the cheek") wasn't trivial - Mani was trying to tell you what he was trying to do, and what to look for.
Three scenes stand out in my opinion. The first is well-known and quite often mentioned by reviewers. The second is not often mentioned, I think. And the third is the big payoff.
1. There's a scene where a village is being evacuated before the Sri Lankan air force bombs the place. An amazing song - Vidai Kodu Engal Naade - plays in the background. (Amazing how A. R. Rehman picks an unconventional but absolutely perfect voice to render some of his songs - this one is by M. S. Viswanathan, and simply blows me away every time I hear it.) The standout moment involves the old temple priest in the village who refuses to leave the place he has lived in all his life. You see him standing there, defiantly ringing the temple bell as the bombs explode all around him. Poetic.
2. Right at the end, the girl Amudha finally gets her wish - she meets her biological mother Shyama. And she asks her, "Why did you leave me? Why did you never come to see me?"
Shyama had gone back to Sri Lanka soon after giving birth to her in Rameswaram over ten years ago, and joined the ranks of the LTTE. Her husband is dead, she has probably seen many of her comrades, friends and family members die during these years, and has trained herself to concentrate single-mindedly on her chosen purpose. This unexpected meeting with her child, and that question, leaves her sandbagged.
She pauses for a moment, and simply says "Tarunam appadi." (Loosely translated, "The circumstances were such.") It is a testament to Nandita Das' acting, and to Mani Rathnam's skill, that those two words are all we need.
3. This one involves Simran. For years, her function in the movies was to look pretty, and she did that admirably. The sole blip on the radar was Vaali, and I felt even that performance was overrated. When I watched Kannathil Muthamittal for the first time, I noticed the performances of Keerthana, who plays Amudha, and Nandita Das, who has about 10 minutes of screen time and uses it exceptionally well.
The second time around, I concentrated on Simran. Hers is an interesting role: she plays Indira, Amudha's adoptive mother who, along with her husband, searches for her daughter's biological parent. She never really verbalizes it, but there's a feeling of insecurity that comes with that search. It comes out in little ways, like when she has little fights with her daughter. And watch how she winces almost imperceptibly every time her daughter mentions that they're in Sri Lanka to look for her "real mother". (That's why I've been using the word "biological" ad nauseam, by the way.)
Right at the end of the movie, when Shyama is walking away after the big meeting, Amudha turns and gives Indira a big kiss on the cheek. To the girl, it's probably just a way od saying thank you, for helping her find her mother. But to Indira, it means so much more, and you see her face light up.
When I watched the movie for the first time, this moment didn't do anything for me. But on the second viewing, I was concentrating on Indira, and Simran did such a great job of conveying the character's inner turmoil while staying mostly in the background, that the last kiss totally made my day.
I realized then that the movie was not about the girl, or about her search, or about the Sri Lankan conflict. All that is just the backdrop for Indira's story. And the title of the movie (translated to "she kissed me on the cheek") wasn't trivial - Mani was trying to tell you what he was trying to do, and what to look for.
Freeze Frame #12: Fiza
There's a reason why my choice for the best screen mom of all time is Jaya Bachchan in Fiza, and the reason is this scene. (Before you ask, no, I haven't seen Hazaar Chaurasi Ki Maa, so I can't comment on that one.)
Her son was lost years ago during some communal riots in the neighbourhood - he grows up to become a terrorist. His sister finds him and brings him back home, and it seems for a while that he has left that life behind him. His mom, who is learning to smile again after so many years, is reverting to her old playful self.
And then, he gets into a fight with some local goon who harasses his sister and goes to town on the guy. The incident also precipitates his revelation to his mother and sister about having joined a terrorist group again.
Watch Jaya Bachchan's eyes as she takes all this in. She dies soon after (by her own hand, if I remember correctly), but the actual time of death is in that scene. Watching the light go out of her eyes when she sees what her son has become is among the most haunting moments in this interesting yet flawed work.
ps: Soon after Jaya dies, there's a song picturized on Asha Sachdev who plays Jaya's flirty neighbour Ulfat. It goes Na leke jaao mere dost ka janaaza hai and is sung by Jaspinder Narula. A lot of the other songs in the movie became popular, but this is the real gem in that album.
Her son was lost years ago during some communal riots in the neighbourhood - he grows up to become a terrorist. His sister finds him and brings him back home, and it seems for a while that he has left that life behind him. His mom, who is learning to smile again after so many years, is reverting to her old playful self.
And then, he gets into a fight with some local goon who harasses his sister and goes to town on the guy. The incident also precipitates his revelation to his mother and sister about having joined a terrorist group again.
Watch Jaya Bachchan's eyes as she takes all this in. She dies soon after (by her own hand, if I remember correctly), but the actual time of death is in that scene. Watching the light go out of her eyes when she sees what her son has become is among the most haunting moments in this interesting yet flawed work.
ps: Soon after Jaya dies, there's a song picturized on Asha Sachdev who plays Jaya's flirty neighbour Ulfat. It goes Na leke jaao mere dost ka janaaza hai and is sung by Jaspinder Narula. A lot of the other songs in the movie became popular, but this is the real gem in that album.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Love Mugam
I was discussing Tamil and Telugu movies with my bro-in-law Goutham, and he told me that Siddharth is now one of the hottest properties in the Telugu film industry, thanks to two superhit movies where he plays the romantic lead (Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana and Bommarillu).
Goutham's way of describing it was: the guynow occupies the position Madhavan did in Tamil movies when Alai Paayudhe came out. He has the "love mugam" (literally "love face"). I'm not sure if I've heard a more succint, crazy-sounding, brilliant description of the chocolate hero stereotype, and I doubt I ever will.
Here's to you, Goutham: that little phrase of yours just made my day.
Goutham's way of describing it was: the guynow occupies the position Madhavan did in Tamil movies when Alai Paayudhe came out. He has the "love mugam" (literally "love face"). I'm not sure if I've heard a more succint, crazy-sounding, brilliant description of the chocolate hero stereotype, and I doubt I ever will.
Here's to you, Goutham: that little phrase of yours just made my day.
Baabul
Watched Baabul yesterday night. Ravi Chopra seems to have made his choice of genre clear - the family melodramas of the eighties, the type that Visu used to be well-known for. (For a brilliant rant on the subject, check out this piece by dingchak).
Now, while this may not be obvious from my earlier posts, or my general preferences for movies, I don't have anything against the genre per se. If it's done well, I'll watch it, and even enjoy it. While I wasn't completely sold on his previous venture Baghban, I thought it had a few good moments. The final speech by Amitabh was, I thought, quite well-delivered.
This one, on the other hand, is dead in the water. And I use the word dead in every imaginable sense. Nobody, and I mean nobody, displays even the tiniest hint of a spark throughout its running time. This is a story about how a widow's father-in-law is willing to forgo every relationship he has to get her remarried. Not a bad plot for this kind of movie. And many scenes are set up in a way that gives the actors ample room to go ballistic. And yet, nobody seems to take that chance. I like understated acting (see my earlier post on the subject), but there's a world of difference between understating and being a lawn ornament.
Rani Mukherjee basically has to look pretty, look happy, and then weep for the rest of the movie's running time. She's the one getting remarried, but she never seems totally sold on the idea. She comes across simply as a device to demonstrate the protagonist's nobility of character. While it is true that the plot revolves around the father-in-law, his entire struggle makes no sense if the person he seeks to help doesn't seem to want it.
This is a quieter, more dialed-down Amitabh than we're used to seeing. This itself is not a problem, had he managed to convey a certain degree of intensity. This is a man who has lost his only son, and now is possessed by a fierce desire to see his daughter-in-law happy again. The plot tells us that. But his eyes tell us nothing.
Salman basically just has to appear as a random romantic hero in the first half and die at the end of it. The only good thing I can say about his performance is that the cringeworthiness per unit screen time has gone down marginally from Baghban. Which isn't saying much, considering that he has more screen time in this movie.
Hema Malini, John Abraham and Om Puri basically just occupy space and do little or nothing of note. I can forgive John for not being capable of much more than that; I'll even forgive Hema for the same reason, sacriligeous as it might sound to some (she never impressed me as an actress). But what Om Puri is doing (or not doing) in this dreck is beyond my comprehension.
On the whole, this is one of the most sorry-ass excuses for a movie to come out in recent times. That it boasts such a star cast only makes it even more of a tragedy.
Now, while this may not be obvious from my earlier posts, or my general preferences for movies, I don't have anything against the genre per se. If it's done well, I'll watch it, and even enjoy it. While I wasn't completely sold on his previous venture Baghban, I thought it had a few good moments. The final speech by Amitabh was, I thought, quite well-delivered.
This one, on the other hand, is dead in the water. And I use the word dead in every imaginable sense. Nobody, and I mean nobody, displays even the tiniest hint of a spark throughout its running time. This is a story about how a widow's father-in-law is willing to forgo every relationship he has to get her remarried. Not a bad plot for this kind of movie. And many scenes are set up in a way that gives the actors ample room to go ballistic. And yet, nobody seems to take that chance. I like understated acting (see my earlier post on the subject), but there's a world of difference between understating and being a lawn ornament.
Rani Mukherjee basically has to look pretty, look happy, and then weep for the rest of the movie's running time. She's the one getting remarried, but she never seems totally sold on the idea. She comes across simply as a device to demonstrate the protagonist's nobility of character. While it is true that the plot revolves around the father-in-law, his entire struggle makes no sense if the person he seeks to help doesn't seem to want it.
This is a quieter, more dialed-down Amitabh than we're used to seeing. This itself is not a problem, had he managed to convey a certain degree of intensity. This is a man who has lost his only son, and now is possessed by a fierce desire to see his daughter-in-law happy again. The plot tells us that. But his eyes tell us nothing.
Salman basically just has to appear as a random romantic hero in the first half and die at the end of it. The only good thing I can say about his performance is that the cringeworthiness per unit screen time has gone down marginally from Baghban. Which isn't saying much, considering that he has more screen time in this movie.
Hema Malini, John Abraham and Om Puri basically just occupy space and do little or nothing of note. I can forgive John for not being capable of much more than that; I'll even forgive Hema for the same reason, sacriligeous as it might sound to some (she never impressed me as an actress). But what Om Puri is doing (or not doing) in this dreck is beyond my comprehension.
On the whole, this is one of the most sorry-ass excuses for a movie to come out in recent times. That it boasts such a star cast only makes it even more of a tragedy.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Freeze Frame #11: Almost Famous
Kate Hudson won a richly deserved Oscar nomination for her part as Penny Lane in this movie. Penny is a free spirit - a groupie to the rest of the world, a "band-aid" in her own mind. She in love with Russell Hammond, the lead guitarist of Stillwater. William Miller, the boy reporter who follows the band during its tour and the protagonist through whose eyes the story unfolds, has a crush on her. He sees that Russell does not love her, does not regard her as much else other than a convenient fuck-buddy while he's on the road.
Watch this crucial exchange between Penny and Will where it all comes to a head:
If that doesn't deserve an Oscar nomination, I don't know what does.
Watch this crucial exchange between Penny and Will where it all comes to a head:
Penny: Maybe it is love, as much as it can be, for somebody...Watch her face as she reacts to this piece of information. The tears that come unbidden, held back for a moment, the brave smile, and the response: What kind of beer?
William: Somebody who sold you to Humble Pie for fifty bucks and a case of beer! I was there! I was there!... Look- I'm sorry.
If that doesn't deserve an Oscar nomination, I don't know what does.
Freeze Frame #9 & #10: Good Will Hunting
A movie with some very smart dialogue, delivered by actors who clearly relish the material. Standout examples include Will's monologue about why he shouldn't join the NSA, Sean's speech about regret, the scene in the bar when Will blows away a cocky Harvard student... the list goes on. However, my two favourite moments from the movie both involve no dialogue.
The first is a scene with Matt Damon who plays Will Hunting, and Stellan Skarsgard who plays Gerald Lambeau, a mathematics professor who takes Will under his wing. One of the movie's plotlines is about how Sean Maguire (Robin Williams), his shrink, and Gerald Lambeau, both try to play a father figure in his life, in their own ways. Gerald believes that Will has great potential which he must actualize, and pushes him in that direction. Sean believes that Will first needs to learn how to trust, open himself up to the possibility of both love and hurt, and learn to be happy. The more obvious side to take is that of the shrink, so the more obvious ploy would've been to make the professor some kind of impersonal, pushy jerk. But the movie smartly sidesteps that ploy, and the way it does that is to add a simple five second postscript to an otherwise ordinary scene.
Will and Gerald are working on a proof on the board. It's mostly silent - the communication is through equations on the board. After a particularly nifty piece of math, they both sit back, satisfied, and look at what they've accomplished on the blackboard. And while they do that, Gerald reaches out and ruffles Will's hair. To me, that simple gesture is what humanizes Gerald beyond all measure.
Aside: You have to understand: ever since I read To Kill a Mockingbird, ruffling someone's hair has been, for me, the de facto expression of one's affection. So, while I find it a very significant moment, it might not be so for others.
The other great moment comes right at the end. In a scene that comes shortly before it, Will tells Chuckie how he doesn't see why he shouldn't be a bricklayer all his life. Chuckie's response to that is beautifully put:
The first is a scene with Matt Damon who plays Will Hunting, and Stellan Skarsgard who plays Gerald Lambeau, a mathematics professor who takes Will under his wing. One of the movie's plotlines is about how Sean Maguire (Robin Williams), his shrink, and Gerald Lambeau, both try to play a father figure in his life, in their own ways. Gerald believes that Will has great potential which he must actualize, and pushes him in that direction. Sean believes that Will first needs to learn how to trust, open himself up to the possibility of both love and hurt, and learn to be happy. The more obvious side to take is that of the shrink, so the more obvious ploy would've been to make the professor some kind of impersonal, pushy jerk. But the movie smartly sidesteps that ploy, and the way it does that is to add a simple five second postscript to an otherwise ordinary scene.
Will and Gerald are working on a proof on the board. It's mostly silent - the communication is through equations on the board. After a particularly nifty piece of math, they both sit back, satisfied, and look at what they've accomplished on the blackboard. And while they do that, Gerald reaches out and ruffles Will's hair. To me, that simple gesture is what humanizes Gerald beyond all measure.
Aside: You have to understand: ever since I read To Kill a Mockingbird, ruffling someone's hair has been, for me, the de facto expression of one's affection. So, while I find it a very significant moment, it might not be so for others.
The other great moment comes right at the end. In a scene that comes shortly before it, Will tells Chuckie how he doesn't see why he shouldn't be a bricklayer all his life. Chuckie's response to that is beautifully put:
Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way. In twenty years, if you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house to watch the Patriots games, still workin' construction, I'll fuckin' kill you. That's not a threat. Now, that's a fact. I'll fuckin' kill you.A little later in the same scene, he says:
Every day I come by your house and I pick you up. And we go out. We have a few drinks, and a few laughs, and it's great. But you know what the best part of my day is? For about ten seconds, from when I pull up to the curb and when I get to your door, cause I think, maybe I'll get up there and I'll knock on the door and you won't be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. You just left. I don't know much, but I know that.It sets things up for the last scene, when Will finally gets his act together and goes off to California, and see if he could maybe win Skylar back. And Chuckie finds out about it the way he wanted to: he goes to Will's house one morning and knocks on the door, and he isn't there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. The camera just stays on Ben Affleck's face for a few seconds, as he processes this, realizes that his friend is gone, and celebrates and mourns it in equal measure. The movie gives these two people enough time together to build up to this moment; this is a fitting payoff, and well-earned.
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