Leading or Misleading?

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There are these characters we see all the time in movies - they aren't the protagonists, nor the second-level characters. They don't have more than ten or fifteen minutes of screen time, max.

A doctor who gives some important advice to the hero. "You know that is not how it works."
The old friend whom he bumps into, who says something that changes the course of the movie. "Remember the time when we..."
The girl in the shop who said something quite ordinary that reminded someone of something. "If I am sad, I would go to my most favourite place."

An important turning point in the story delivered by an insignificant character.

We know those people so well. I saw him in that movie too. The tough doctor. The smiling angel. The crazy friend. The girl who is sipping juice by the roadside. But I don't know her name. I remember her name in that movie, but not her real name.

Kate Winslet says in The Holiday, "You're supposed to be the leading lady of your own life, for god's sake!"

But are we?

Some of us are. We see them, we know it. Where do we fit in? Are we the heros, or are we the friends, or are we those nameless, insignificant characters who pave the way for the leading characters' successes?

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#JurassicWorld... #JustSayin

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House in India

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I was talking to another House M.D. follower recently. (Note that we're his followers and not fans. Calling us House's fans would be so wrong. We hate him! We are convinced he is a constant threat to mankind. We do not miss a single episode only so we can keep an eye on him. Who knows what he is up to? Someone should be watching him!)

We wondered what House or his team, during their investigation, would think if they were to sneak into one of our houses? (For the uninitiated, House M.D.'s team breaks into patients' houses to find clues to the mysterious illness that is causing their patients to seize, vomit blood or hallucinate. These are generally the initial symptoms which then, within hours, leads their kidneys and liver to shut down, and while the team comes up with intelligent-sounding medical terms - Sarcoidosis! Amyloidosis! Cushing's disease! Munchausen's syndrome! Wilson's disease! Lupus! - we bite our nails wondering what could be the clue that we're - I mean they're - missing, which was right before our eyes all along.)

So if Team House breaks into our house to investigate, what would happen?
The quick answer is, within minutes they would dash out the door and conclude that this patient can be discharged. For the simple reason, the environment she lives in is so contaminated that she cannot be alive. Diagnosis: we are treating a ghost. Ergo: Discharge.

Admirers of the "Genius with Side-effects" from this part of the world would agree that watching Dr.House in action is like watching a Science Fiction Mystery movie. With a touch of Fantasy to it.

Be that as it may, we just want to get admitted at the fictional PPTH, preferably with some unfathomable disease that will kill us within 24 hours, so that Dr House and his brilliant team can diagnose us.

I mean, for a start, look at the hospital and the facilities, the attention the patients (in general) get. The attitude of the doctors and nurses. The spacious rooms. The half-empty corridors. The beeping contraptions patients are connected to for constant monitoring. Alarm bell right next to the patient. Nurses running to aid at the slightest sound. That's what a hospital of hundred years into the future must look like. Hopefully, our great-grand children would watch House M.D and say, "What a futuristic show! They made this in the early twenty-first century!"

Four doctors would fuss over us. And they handle only one case at a time, which means, they are thinking about us all the time. They ask us personal questions and tell us that we are great people. (If we have done wrong, they would also report to the police, be warned.) We normally consider ourselves lucky if our hurriedly-examining-us-and-prescribing-meds-doctor remembers our name.

House got one thing right: Everybody lies. But I would challenge him to crack the kind of lies we can offer you. I dare you, my man!

House's team looks at the detailed medical history of the patient to form an initial diagnosis. For that, they enter the name of the patient into the computer and the computer tells him all about our history. (Are you laughing already, or are you going to stand there looking stupefied?)

Let me tell you the last time someone I know tried to track down a file here (three months ago. I am not talking about stone age). He was told by the hospital that they don't keep records beyond five years. To House's credit, there have been many cases where the history was not available, and yet he managed to crack the case.

The best thing is that Dr House's team has all the time in the world. They wheel the patients to their X-ray or surgery or check up. Nurses are just the colourful backdrop, sometimes for the team's entertainment. If we are not admitted as dying patients, the next best option would be to work there. We may not offer much medical wisdom, but we can bring him his coffee just way he likes. They have coffee machines there.

I am just wondering how many days (or hours) House would last if he were to come to India to work?

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The Kutners and others who are forced into suicide

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Lawrence Kutner is dead. Long live Lawrence Kutner.

Though it happened over five years ago in the U.S, the news reached India only last week.

Kutner alias Kal Penn, despite being very popular, had to leave the show House M.D. and the character had to be terminated. This resulted in his inexplicable suicide.

There have been several instances of character terminations across history. Two decades ago, there was a show that caught the fancy of the TV viewing Malayali population. When it was time to end the show, if I remember right, the lead character was thrown off to the river and was presumed (or declared?) dead. No one actually predicted the kind of misery it plunged people into - one was reminded of Sherlock Holmes' assumed death a century ago and his eventual resurrection. When the second season of that series had to begin thanks to popular demand (though they were not called 'seasons' at the time), the original actor could not rejoin and was replaced, with some explanation given to the 'altered' looks. (If I remember right, the explanation was plastic surgery. The new face was due to the surgery that was needed following the near-drowning-and-escaping incident, get it?) If the title character has to leave the show, what else can the creators do?

Kutner was a delightful doctor. His exit had to be phenomenal and shocking. He was jovial and optimistic and friendly and intelligent and pleasant that when he committed suicide, no one could explain why, even Dr.House, who was led to suspect foul play. The mysterious and sudden exit leaves an ache. No one would have minded (or believed) if he had just 'quit and moved to another city.' This way, Kutner became more special in death than when he was alive.

In another recent show, a popular character died in a plane crash. An entire episode was dedicated to commemorate his life and death that by the end of it, drowned in hot tears, we had forgotten that the man wasn't real.

Unimportant characters sometimes have to endure uncharacteristic exits, as do people who are fired from the show. The more loved they are, the more sensational their exits must be. One man died trying to save a woman. Break-up-and-walk-away is a common exit reason. A woman was made to walk out on her on-screen perfect marriage citing flimsy reasons and was never seen again. Another man, at the altar for his wedding, walked out for no reason - all the while, we were expecting the bride to get cold feet and run away. Some characters get fired from work, which usually happens at the end of a season. (Sometimes, who got fired is not revealed until the next season begins.) Another person was shot dead in a major shooting incident at the climax of one season. Other minors have bid farewell to their shows thanks to road accidents or with the help of electrocution. There have been several unceremonious exits too, with the viewers as well as the actors themselves wondering why they were never seen again.

In another show this week, one of the lead characters was "offered a dream job overseas, which she accepted". Yes, it was time for her to leave the show. She got three or four episodes of build up to the final exit.

Think of the creators' predicament: the longer the show runs, the more variety of reasons they have to come up with for each inevitable exit.

Here's to Kutner and all others who, through preferences of their own or otherwise, are forced to die in crashes or driven to suicide or fired or compelled to accept jobs overseas. Here's to all of us who watch and endure the trauma as though it were happening to us.

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Things Hollywood tells us about America

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(Forgive us, America. Hollywood is to blame.)

Men help with the dishes after dinner.
If you see trainloads of Indian women flocking to the US to get married, don't be surprised.

Hollywood explains why there are so many break-ups in the US of A, compared to India. The breakup tagline is: "We're in a relationship. We are supposed to be honest with each other."
Ha! No, I mean, HahahahaHAHAHA.

Broke people in America are better dressed (and better-off) than a well-dressed, average, employed Indian who considers himself well-off. (They look for jobs on the Internet using their laptops.)
It's the third world poverty thing.

Living with your parents is a crime.
Corollary: Parents, in general, are psychotic, abnormal, annoying torturers you should keep away from (and should be visited only on Thanksgiving and Christmas.)
To think, in Bollywood, men go out of their way to show how much they love their parents and take care of them. Tears start pouring out the moment they think of their Moms. 

Nice, romantic, sweet men, so madly in love with their women, pack their bags and leave the moment their girls break up with them. (There's another job waiting for them in a city far far away.)
Yeah, that sort of thing is common out here too, (only) on celluloid. Such weaklings.

Then it rains all of a sudden, drenching the guy / girl or both.
Bollywood too, Bollywood too. Same pinch.

We hear there is a lot of obesity over yonder but, by God, look at all the gorgeous men and women, where has obesity gone to? Oh yes, the comedian friend of the hero's could be it.
Observation: Newspapers can be very misleading.

India means 'curry' or 'Mumbai' or 'Gandhi'.
The Bangalorean Malayali is deeply offended that they do not know the bisi bele bhat. Or at least puttum kadalayum.

They drink (and seem to prefer) tap water. Eyes popping out. Did you say TAP water? 

Being a virgin is to be frowned upon. No comments. Wink, wink.

Says 'I'm good' (Says who, eh?) and 'I am not judging you' and 'not a big deal'. That's cool. 

They are paranoid about anything that doesn't look like them or talk like them.
Heh! Americans! But that attitude inspired one great Indian movie, My Name is Khan. So, we're good.

They can wear anything (or not wear anything) and still look great. Sigh.

Burgers and fries are their idea of a meal. So when they crave junk food, they go Indian?


They are The Inscrutable Americans, as one wise Indian once said.

I tremble to imagine what Bollywood would tell you about us...

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Apocalypse and Monsters

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And thus Godzilla saved the world.
Then it (he?) got up, ignored the crowd of bipeds who were firing at it until minutes ago, strolled into the sea and vanished. It has to lie low until the next alien menace visits earth, so that it can save us again. (I wonder what it eats. Must be seaweed.) The spectators - military, civilians and movie-goers - suddenly realise that this monster is their friend (though they were trying to nuke it) and watch it go, a grateful smile on their lips.
Clap, clap, clap.

Absolute B.S.

But what is this obsession with giant monsters destroying cities or aliens killing humans or the apocalypse?

Why do we enjoy watching the planet getting devastated and then some clever dude coming up with a plan to stop it with a single brave, brilliant, reckless act? And of finally saving Earth and its people?

For one thing (perhaps the most important), it's the effects. When Jurassic Park was released, I watched it in the big screen. The effects (sound, visual, everything - remember the glass of water vibrating when the T-Rex approaches?) were worth dying for. But that was years ago, and for us it was the first of its kind.

By now all possible kinds of creatures have grown larger than life and have attacked us. Also we have been visited by aliens of all shapes and types. They have destroyed all cities in America. (We are safe: like normal homo sapiens, they prefer America too. Which explains why the beasts that fought Godzilla went straight to SFO from Japan.)

And when climactic changes (caused by man) bring about the end of the world, it would happen in the next thirty minutes.

Anything from outer space comes only to destroy us and steal our world.

Why are we attracted to those films, to the very idea? End of the world - does that sound enticing??

It's the fear, I am thinking. We have no clue what we would do in case beasts or aliens of this magnitude do appear. Or if the end of the world is in sight.
It's an acknowledgement of our vulnerability - we're just hanging there in the edge of space, a tiny blue speck at the mercy of the entire Universe, exposed to anyone who might have any designs on us.
It's our optimistic hallucination that humanity will unite and rise and hold hands to defeat these beasts. That nature will forgive us for our errors and let us live in harmony again. (That we will have learnt a lesson and will live in harmony at all.)
It's our fondness for happy endings, to see Earth intact and chasing the sun again.
It's our penchant for hero-worship, to see the President of the US fighting aliens in a fighter plane or a marine protecting the land by taking away the nuclear bomb even at the risk of his own life or a scientist who loves the Earth letting nature have its way.

That which terrifies us, excites us. Stimulates us. And then, bores us to death.

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9 Things I Learned from Movies This Week

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1. The hero's / heroine's parents always die when he/she is around ten years old, in a car accident. (The more elite ones get the luxury of a plane crash.) That's how we get the parents out of the way and invoke sentiments all at one shot. They don't die of any other reason, unless it is crucial to the story. You never hear of anyone dying of malaria or dengue fever.

2. Hollywood hunks like quiet, mature, brainy girls who have unbearably bubbly and hysterical friends. Desi heroes like unbelievably bubbly and talkative and gorgeous girls. Brains aren't a necessity. Foolishness and arrogance are pre-requisites.

3. Desi characters see ghosts of their dead parents/siblings/spouse, and they are startled when the ghosts vanish, because they think the vision is real. Hollywood folk shake their heads at the ghosts, smile and walk away, because they are clever enough to know it is only their own memory playing tricks.

4. Hollywood brides and grooms get cold feet before their wedding and threaten to call it off, at the last moment. In about fifty percent of the cases, the bride / groom changes her/his mind right before the ceremony (because, as we know so well, it's the wrong guy/girl). In Bollywood and surrounding regions, no one walks away right before a wedding (though they could be abducted from or forced into one). Desis aren't afraid of a mere wedding or the divorce rate in the country. They firmly believe in Happily Every After.

5. The heroine catches the bouquet. 'Nuff said.
(Luckily in India we do not have that delightful custom, else imagine what that would have added to Bollywood.)

6. The hero (who doesn't know yet that he is the hero, though the rest of us does) runs to confess his love to the girl, only to find her embracing her fiancé, and walks away, dejected. Little does he know that the girl's mind is not in it and she has been waiting for him to turn up. Earth has to revolve a little more before everything clears up.

7. This affliction is particularly common in Hollywood: the career-centric woman does not believe in true love, she is convinced it is some story cooked up by greeting card companies. Then this ruggedly handsome dude pops up in her radar, infuriating her, thwarting her peace of mind, plunging her deep into the chaos called... love. What can the distressed damsel do other than admit defeat?

8. The protagonist, who is suffering from an incurable disease, has to die. There is no treatment that saves his/her life at the end. (Imagine what a mess it would be if they are cured, when everyone else has prepared for their death?)

9. I watch too many movies on TV.

Who said movies aren't educational? 

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"And so it goes with God."

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Except for the fact that Irrfan, when he speaks these words, looks profoundly enigmatic and proud, like a man who has seen something we haven't, I have no clue what his words could mean. Even after watching the movie three times and reading the book once.

At the beginning of Life of Pi, there is a claim (by Francis aka Mamaji) that Pi Patel "has a story that will make you believe in God". The movie tries to project it in such a way that when Pi abandons all hope and surrenders to God, God, who was watching all the while, brings him to a strange island to restore his belief and provides him strength to continue. There is no such interpretation in the book.

Surely God, who sank the ship, killed his family and allowed the ship's crew to perish, did not save Pi alone just to prove that He exists? Or is it that, despite the sinking of the ship (an act in which He had no hand), despite Pi finding himself literally at sea, God was with him, giving him the strength to survive? Does it have something to do with Pi being a "practising Hindu, Muslim and Christian"? My takeaway from the story is Pi's inner strength, whether God-given or not. In the face of adversity he does not wither, he blooms (well, as much blooming as a raft at sea and a famished tiger would permit). Richard Parker, his alter ego or a fierce Bengal tiger, depending on which story you want to believe, keeps him alert and alive.

But for Mamaji's confusing statement, the story remains a wonderful watch/read. The first part in India, with little Pi naming himself, encountering God and meeting Richard Parker are all delightful. (Even more so in the book). The lifeboat, the tiger, the vegetarian boy and the raft in the middle of the ocean are spectacular in 3D.

The movie remains true to the novel for the most part. Very minimal (and essential) clipping has been done, as compared to other book adaptations. The dialogs are pretty much Yann Martel's own words. The character of Anandi, the dancer, has been introduced in the movie. In the novel, there is a strange incident when Pi loses his eyesight and hears the voice of a man - who has curiously lost his eyesight as well. A long conversation between the temporarily blinded people ensue, at the end of which the newcomer tries to kill Pi (and devour him, no doubt) but the starving Richard Parker kills him instead. By the time Pi recovers his eyesight, the man is beyond recognition.

But what is it that's staring me in the face and I cannot see?

It was natural that, bereft and desperate as I was, in the throes of unremitting suffering, I should turn to God.

Nothing in the story reinforced or enhanced my faith, but nothing destroyed it either. Nothing answered my questions and doubts, and nothing made me decide either way.

And so it goes with God.

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Damsels in Distress

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Why are all the women in our movies projected as damsels in distress whereas the men get to be superheroes?

The poor heroine has to run away from goondas who chase her in the middle of the night (and she runs right into the arms of the hero who of course knew this was going to happen),
... she screams and pleads and cries all the time - except when she is unreasonably angry and shouting at the good-natured, funny, absolutely lovable hero who takes it all in his stride or gives a fitting reply (which all changes the moment she realises what a great, kind, incredibly wonderful guy he is),
... she is easily forced into marriage against her wish (until the hero comes to save her),
... she is bossy and foolish and loud and arrogant at first until the hero turns her into butter (after which she is totally wagging her tail for the rest of the movie),
... she makes foolish mistakes that no one in the world would make (until the hero gently and firmly and mockingly sets her right),
... if by mistake she is a policewoman, she is the most ruthless and unkind and unreasonable one (until of course... ah, you get the drift).

The hero is as super as Superman, as spidey (creepy??) as Spiderman, as bat... err, fantastic as Batman, as magical as Mandrake, as firm as the Phantom, and all that. He is kind to those who need his kindness, and he can survive the most impossible situations with his wit and cleverness and wisdom, beat the strongest villains, walk around effortlessly after getting shot a hundred times, perform all the tricks in the world, and - we're quite okay with it.

Whereas all the heroine can do is flop down and cry when someone says "BOO!". I wish someone would introduce her to Taekwondo and be done with it. Or at least teach her to outrun those overweight goondas. Because if the hero can be fantastic beyond all logic, why can't the heroine?

Very rarely in a few films, the heroine gets the upper hand, but she would inevitably have misunderstood the gentle, kind, well-meaning hero at first and would end up apologising profusely to him.

No wonder we have this feeling somewhere deep inside that women are weak cry-babies, who just want to run away from (and who can be easily made to run away from) trouble (though they can't even run away properly), whereas men are strong beings, who do not know what cowardice means, who always win no matter what the battle is, who are made of something other than flesh and bones. Moreover, when there is a big trouble, like the hero goes bankrupt or losses someone dear or is wrongly put in jail or something, he never tells his wife, because she would freak out (and possibly scream and howl the house down) and he doesn't want her to be upset. Isn't that noble or what? Puts a trifle more pressure on ordinary men to perform, don't you think?

Imagine a movie like Renaissance Man (and many others), in which the woman private says All Men are Dogs and actually gets away with it. No one bothers to knock some sense into her, no one takes it upon himself to snip off the tails of her arrogance, no one thinks it his duty to humiliate the woman until she wriggles on the floor and apologises for uttering those criminal words and promises never to utter another sound again.

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Mentor

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There was this Russian movie I watched about a million years ago. That was the time the Indo-Soviet collaboration was at a dizzying peak - remember the "Festival of the USSR in India"? Yes, those times. Those unreal, exciting times when cool Russians walked down the streets in small town Trivandrum amidst wide-eyed naatukar, and you got to enjoy their amazing (read, eye-bulging) performances every evening for a week or so as they travelled from city to city. Remember the breath-taking Swan Lake? Remember the graceful Cossack dances? I had never before seen such perfection and coordination in any dance form. Their magicians performed unbelievable tricks I thought no one else in the world knew. I dreamed of nothing else for months afterward. That was (I believe) the first time I got to watch real foreign movies (we never considered English movies as foreign) dubbed into English. Amazing times.

As I was saying. This Russian movie was titled "The Great Space Journey"* (unfortunately, I cannot find a proper mention of it anywhere on the Net, and I do not know its Russian title), in which a group of kids go on a space trip. There is only one adult with them, but he stays away from them and when they need urgent help, they find him reading a book. He says, go and solve your problems yourself. At least I guess that's what he said. (I knew English a little more than I knew Russian, if you know what I mean.) So the kids go on to solve their problems themselves.

The point is, even though the man did not really say anything to help them, he did help them. Maybe just the fact that he was behind those doors was enough to give them confidence. When he didn't seem worried, their fears vanished. Maybe when he said, solve it yourself, he was actually telling them, You can do it. Try once more.

Everybody needs a mentor, you know. Even if he does not call himself your mentor, you know when someone is. Even if he isn't with you every step of the way, if you know he is around, your confidence soars sky high. Even in his absence you feel his support, intentional or not.

Without a person like that, sometimes you stray too much off the path. You may find your way back to the highway and learn a few odd short-cuts along the way, but you also run the risk of losing faith in yourself and giving up. Just because you are alone, disoriented and confused. And lost. You ask yourself, Where in the world am I? What in the world have I got myself into? You need someone other than yourself to say "Keep going. Try once more." Those words make you feel that the highway is perhaps right across that turning half a kilometre away, just out of sight. Your mentor might know, you think, which he why he asks you to keep going. He knows I am close. You are aware that he doesn't know everything either, but you tell yourself, as long as he doesn't give up, I won't either.

Your friends encourage you to keep going, too. But the difference is enormous when someone with authority, with experience, with knowledge, with confidence speaks up. Or doesn't.

You don't want him to point out the road to you. You don't want him to say, "Go North, cross the field, scale the fence." You can find your way, you can cut your own path. You can bear hardships and you can take disappointments and you can survive frustration. But sometimes you need a hand on your back, albeit for a second, to keep you from falling, a gentle touch that gives strength back to your body and courage back to your fraying nerves. He may read a book, or ignore you, or yell at you to leave him alone, but as long as he is around, you keep trudging.

You may never find the highway, but that's okay. As long as you don't give up and you "keep going", you may find a beautiful farmhouse and decide to settle down... or whatever that makes you happy.

Sometimes, all you need to get to the other side of the night is to hear someone - and not just anyone - advise you directly or otherwise to Keep going, try once more.

* Update: The movie's correct title is The Great Space Voyage, no wonder I did not find any mention anywhere. A friend found it for me.

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Thought for the week... Movies

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No matter how many alien or monster movies we make, no matter how well the filmi citizens of the world group together (across cultures and races and nations) in the name of humanity to fight the disgusting beasts,...
... if ever a real hostile alien lands on the planet, we would still be grossly unprepared and bewildered and scattered and unorganised.

No matter how well the hero cleans up corruption or mercilessly throws the corrupt officials in jail,...
... the truth is that out here, corruption would remain for decades to come and thrive where it always had.

No matter how much the good guy tries to maintain things right and fair and and open and honest, no matter how well he earns the respect of the filmi public,...
... in reality, his slightest lapses get magnified and his biggest achievements get underplayed.

No matter how adamantly the good cop keeps up after the underworld or spites his crooked superiors to  get his way - and survives intact,...
... in the real world, the bad guys flourish and the good guys vanish into oblivion.

No matter how well-liked and popular a good man is in movies, no matter how he appears not to have any foes in life just because he is good natured,...
... a real such person would find enemies all around him just because of his goodness of heart.

No matter how much we know the movies are not real,...
... we watch them to see good prevailing over evil because the sight gives us hope, inspires us to believe that good things do happen, and also influences us to perform small, unconscious acts of kindness.

Because movies do invoke emotions deeper and real, sentiments that are concealed somewhere unseen within ourselves, beneath a pile of BS.

When the comedian delivers funny dialogs, we laugh and make jokes of our own.
When the hero feels sad, we cry. We find our own miseries reflected in his.
When a Mother showers love on her baby, we remember our Mothers and we remember our children.
When the nasty old man thrashes the little boy, we burn with rage, because we have known or experienced cruelty in life.
When the judge sends the terrorist to jail, we feel a sense of fairness and justice and peace wash over us.
When the hero ignored by his wife goes looking for love elsewhere, we feel his action is justified.
When a child misbehaves to his friend, we cringe because we have once done the same.

And if someone says violence in films does not invoke violence in us, they are kidding themselves.

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Why we should respect film stars...!

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I have this newfound respect for filmstars.
Oh, I've always admired them. I thought their life was cool - notwithstanding the hectic schedules, travels, sleepless nights, holidays away from family and so on. I thought it was cool that they could portray different people in different movies, adorn different costumes, dance to the most beautiful songs, have themselves projected on to huge screens, and have people rave and chant their names. Not to speak of the big money.

As usual when you see the other side of the story, you find it strange that you hadn't seen it till now: wasn't it very obvious and glaring right into your face?

I have worked with snobs (and others) of all kinds; I have also worked with people I adored and admired. But the first kind takes precedence here, the second are still too revered to be mentioned among the filth. I have had to say Howdy, and smile at and joke with and pat the nastiest ones on the back (even when my intestines were squirming) because they were part of my team. I thought that was really tough. And now when I watch movies where two people have to feign love and friendship, look longingly into each other's eyes when they really don't have any affection between them, I realise that my joking and smiling and Howdy-ing were nothing at all.

That's why I say, these filmstars, their lives aren't easy at all. They deserve our admiration and respect, not (only) for their larger than life presence, but for what they do uncomplainingly for the sake of their job.

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Is Prithviraj on his way down?

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The title is controversial, I agree. You would say he never was on the top, to be sailing down. Or you could say, there is no question of him coming down soon - he is safe at the top. 

They say viewers, and opinions, make or break a star. Fret not, I am not his well-wisher or a fan. Nor am I a hater. However, I don't think I have given so much thought to any other actor in Malayalam cinema, nay, in any kind of cinema. That itself is worth noting. When we watch a movie, it is not the actor that we think of. If the acting is good, we don't notice the man or woman who plays the role. It is the character that captivates us, and stays in our mind. The actor comes afterwards.

There is no denying that Prithviraj has talent. These days it is tough to spot, but it exists nonetheless.

When I watched Nandanam way back when it was released, I knew him as 'Actor Sukumaran's son.' Though the role did not offer much versatility to the debutant, there were a couple of scenes where the subtle emotion that crossed his eyes made me think, "He could make it big one day." The character was flamboyant. The actor was sincere.

Classmates followed soon after. It is very rare to find a movie with a good storyline, picturization, songs and well-balanced acting. Everyone associated with the film did a great job, no one overdid anything. The characters blended well into the premise. No one stood out. Prithviraj placed one more feather in his cap.

I cannot recall many of his films after that, but I often felt that no new actor could portray the 'Angry Young Man' better than he. Comedy was not his forte, that belonged to his brother. It was perhaps a field he was yet to master. He could be forgiven.

Last year I happened to watch a song from the movie Anwar. Though it seemed to be popular at the time, I did not like it. Something about the snow, the romance, the smirk seemed too phoney. But I could not put my finger on the exact problem. It dawned on me much later - it was the Smirk that ruined it all. But I will come back to the Smirk later.

Then Urumi happened. Touted as the biggest hit of 2011, I did not hear many voices against it. When I posted my review of the film, a friend commented on Facebook that she had read somewhere, 'the arrogance is intentional. The character is arrogant and unyielding.' It seemed reasonable, but again, I was not satisfied with that argument. I have seen several arrogant characters - the good and the bad ones - played by other actors, in all kinds of cinema. I figured it out soon enough: The character was normal. The actor was arrogant. And it showed, through the skin of the man he portrayed on screen, drowning the character's own shades.

I would give Prithviraj a score of 98% for his looks, which could be the highest I would give a person considering only looks. Others who score higher in my scale have an endearing quality to them, something about their nature or attitude that attracts people to them. As I said, I haven't analysed any other actor as much as I do Prithviraj. I am not film-crazy. I may not remember who the director and producer are, or anything else related to a movie, except its name and the actors. For the very same reason, people who have watched most of his films may have a different opinion of him. Their analyses may bring out a totally different picture.

Now let me tell you about the Smirk. I have no idea when it began to appear. I only know I noticed it in the song from Anwar. I must have watched that song three or four times before deciding that I hated it. 

The Smirk often reminded me of something or someone. It gave me a sense of déjà vu. That I have seen that smile before. I could not exactly recollect who or what, for a long time. Then one day, it came to me while I was watching an animated movie with my son, in one of his cartoon channels - Lord Krishna, Lord Shiva or Lord Vishnu, I forget who, was saving the world from chaos and asuras. Voilà - the smile on the Lord's face after attaining victory, when all the people of the world bow to Him in gratitude - wasn't it quite similar to the condescending smile on Prithviraj's face? The animated Gods do not express fear, shock, anger. They always have a knowing smile. Prithviraj's omnipresent Smirk seemed to have erased all other emotions from his reel life. Even his romance does not have softness anymore. He could no longer portray the different shades that make up a character.

Can you spot The Smirk?! (Click to enlarge)

I should say that at one point I almost gave him up - I forgot the talent I had spotted in him long ago. I thought he never had any, and that his looks alone had rewarded him the youth icon status. Soon after Urumi, perhaps on the very next day, I happened to see Classmates again. The difference jumped out. Classmates was much before superstardom hit him. A few weeks ago, I watched Akale, another of his earlier films which did not provide scope for arrogance. He should watch his own old movies and learn a thing or two. He used to play the disturbed young man, convincing and precise, not a shade overdone. And without the Smirk.

There are other actors who started much before he did, and have not reached any closer to where Prithviraj is today. I see them making their presence felt through small roles in small movies, making mistakes, learning, taking small steps forward, falling, advancing. They may take a long time to reach where Prithviraj is, but they are persistent and diligent enough to attain those heights one day. When they do, they will have enough learning to stay there. Prithviraj seems to have got things too easy, and if he cannot hold on to them, he will have to risk losing them too soon.

Prithviraj has the skill to justify his presence at the top. He has the learning to hold on to it. He can be part of brilliant cinema, yes, he can indeed be a brilliant actor.
But only if he tries to go back to where he was before the Superstar title got to his head.
If not, he has to slide down till he hits rock bottom. Who knows what will happen if he does?

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To say I am disappointed...

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...would be an understatement.

Maybe it was the hype.
Maybe it was the 20-crore(?) budget.
Maybe it was the expectation generated by numerous favourable reviews by blogger friends. (I am yet to read an unfavourable one.)
Maybe it was the trailers that crossed my social networking paths months prior to release.
Maybe it was the fact that as we entered the theatre, KPAC Lalitha's voice over was already explaining the arrival of the Portuguese to the shores of Kerala and other incidents relevant to the movie. After all, first impressions should not be formed while bending double on full stomach and rushing to seats, for a 9PM show.

The beginning of Urumi was too quick for my likes. Within minutes of my sitting down, Prithviraj and Prabhu Deva were hurled into the sixteenth century. The story slipped down the stairs and splashed into the ancient ambala kulam. Given that the past itself takes about two hours (plus), I presume it would not have been possible to provide more fluff on the 'current' events.

Vidya Balan is a brilliant (though under-rated) actress (actor?), very capable of not over-doing her role. But the Devi appearance (and dance!) did not seem to add anything to the story. I looked around for Tabu in every frame after her cameo - I could not believe her performance was restricted to half a scene. The high-profile cast, no doubt, explains a large part of the 20-crore.

Were not some of the dresses, dances and dialogs borrowed from this century?

Most of the actors did justice to their characters and did what was expected of them. Prithviraj should (in the best interests of the audience) shed a few kilos especially in such (shirtless) roles. His body language reeked of arrogance instead of the tough, proud, dignified look that we are familiar with in other historical movies based on vengeance, patriotism and so forth. Someone could have advised him to tone down his attitude a bit - at least to endear him to the viewers. His talent is undisputed - no one else in the industry today can portray the 'angry young man' better than him. Wonder if it was his recent superstardom or the movie's budget that ruined it.


An acquaintance summed the movie up before I went to watch: "16th century story and all that, with sufficient skin show for the 21st century audience."

What the movie did, however, was to add faces, colours and events to the sentence we learned by rote in childhood:  
Vasco da Gama landed at Kappad beach near Calicut in 1498.

I don't think the movie was worth losing my sleep on.

But then, it may have also been the small, old theatre, quite unequipped to handle modern-day big-budget movies of cinematographic excellence.

Or it may have been plain, old-fashioned, intolerant me.

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I hate Malayalam Movies...

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...  in which Malayalis don't speak like Malayalis.

In the recent past, I have come across a few youth-ish films in which youngsters talk like foreigners learning Malayalam. (At least the foreigners sound cute.) In reality, even in Bangalore, I don't hear so much Englishised Malayalam as that. Malayalis born and brought up outside Kerala may have this difficulty in twisting their tongues to the 'zhas' and 'Las' of Malayalam. When I look around, I see my son and children of my friends let go the perfect Malayalam that their parents taught them when they started speech. In this multi-cultural environment that they are growing up in, holding on to one language is very tough. The children are shifting to a mixed accent right before our eyes, and there is not much we can do about it, except insist they stick to the Mother-tongue at home.

But Kerala is a different story. Or isn't it? I don't remember coming across such atrocious accent in Kerala so far. Maybe it is cleverly evading me.

If the youth in Kerala really speak like that, I pity them.
If they don't, I still pity them, because many of them are going to watch these films and begin faking their accent.

Older posts:
Malayalam, a Unique Language

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First Day First Show: Karthik Calling Karthik

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A friend of mine, after enough coaxing and cajoling from me, has been kind enough to send me this review. Do read and leave your comments!


What will happen if someone with your voice calls you and claims that its you?

Karthik (Farhan Akhtar) is a real nice guy but a loner. His boss and colleagues don’t appreciate his work, and the girl he loves (Deepika Padukone, who is also his colleague) doesn't even know that he exists.

He has been working for a construction firm for the last four years, has to put up with his boss who refuses to accept his own mistakes and treats Karthik like a slave. Unable to bear the humiliation any further, Karthik decides to take the extreme step. Just when he is about to do it, he receives a phone call that changes his life.

The first half is fast-paced and keeps the viewer engaged. The second is slower and the ending, a bit sober.

Farhan Akhtar as Karthik and Deepika as Shonali act quite well. Deepika looks stunning and has considerably improved her acting from her last movie, "Love Aaj Kal."  The movie is all about Farhan and he is complemented well by the others.

The chemistry between Farhan and Deepika is good and there are quite a few cute scenes and well-written lines. The scene with their fingers moving on the table top is brilliant.






The songs by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy are good, though they remind you of some of their previous works. Hey Ya is already a hit and is shot superbly. The background score by Midival Punditz & Karsh Kale and the camera by Sanu Varghese are also good, although the camera work in the second half could have been better.

Considering this to be Vijay Lalwani's first movie, the end result is commendable.  
Karthik calling Karthik is a good watch, definitely a one-time watch.

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Pazhassi Raja

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Pazhassi Raja, the Movie, spanning 3 hours 15 minutes, is essentially a war movie, based on one of the first struggles of Indian Independence. Being based on history, it leaves very little or no scope for melodrama. And yet, or maybe hence, the sequence of events with amazing visual and audio effects make it a treat to watch.

Spoiler Alert: You probably would not want to read the following if you haven't watched the movie yet, though I am not giving away too much.

Some breathtaking scenes from Pazhassi Raja:

* The Introduction of Sharat Kumar (Edasseri Kunkan)

* The hanging of Thalackal Chanthu - Manoj K Jayan's moment of glory

* Neeli and her band of women fighters cheering Pazhassi Raja

* The last breath of Kaitheri Ambu (Suresh Krishna)

* The evacuation from the forest before the British soldiers arrive to capture Pazhassi Raja

* The last moments of Edasseri Kunkan - seeing the redcoats reflected in the water, and after

* The attack on the fort by Pazhassi's army

* The last shots on Pazhassi Raja

* The rare, yet present, subtle Mammootty moments

* Sharat Kumar



Other thoughts...

* Despite it being a patriotic movie, there was no surge of patriotism on watching it.

* Hollow-sounding words by the British Officer when Pazhassi lies dead.

* The Matrix-style flying sequences in combat could have been avoided.

* The exit of the British lady on seeing the gruesome hangings seemed a bit overdone.


Like it or not, it is a movie you would not want to miss.

Click here to read more thoughts on the movie shared by @arunthomaskb.

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Wake up, Sid!

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This is the movie I went to watch yesterday with my friends, after a long time. I would have enjoyed the evening even if the movie was the floppest of the year. But it wasn't. It is the kind of light-hearted fun movie with no deep, heartbreaking melodramatic scenes (thank God!).

By the way, in case you didn't know, despite what the title suggests, Wake Up, Sid! is a Hindi movie (with a spatter of Hindi dialogues and a lot of "Uh-mazing" and "Are you kidding?" stuff). Sid is Siddharth (my son's name, though I hope my son doesn't turn out to be like the Sid in the movie!) played by Ranbir Kapoor. Konkana Sen Sharma as the "New Girl in the City" is awesome - as always. What an uh-mazing actress. Quite impeccable performances by her and Anupam Kher (as Sid's Dad).

Ranbir Kapoor repeats his very own, stereotyped, spoilt-brat role (quite similar to the one in Bachhna Ae Haseeno), who has some solid sense knocked into his head by the very level-headed and pragmatic lead lady, his love for whom he discovers by the end of the movie. In Bachhna Ae Haseeno, in a taxi climax in Australia, in Wake Up Sid!, in the Monsoons in Mumbai. Ranbir is better off performing comic scenes or behaving like an idiot, and an absolute disaster when trying to be depressed or romantic.

Konkana, as Aisha Bannerjee, who has just got a job as assistant to the Editor-in-Chief of Mumbai Beat (and whose job is to clean the E-i-C's desk 'creatively'), and Sid, who just flunked his graduation exams and thus got kicked out of his home, are thrown together by circumstances. However, (yes! there is always a 'However') it seemed too far-fetched to believe that in two months, Aisha the Aspiring Writer and Sid the Amateur Photographer, get their article and photograph (respectively) published in the subsequent edition of Mumbai Beat. (Believable for the very ambitious and talented Aisha, perhaps, but not for a loser like Sid!) Whereas some of us here creep and crawl and beg and plead and pray to get our books to the bookstores! Oh, well.

My own little Sidharth (who is 'Munnu' to me) had joined us in the first half of the movie before I let him out during the intermission to his waiting Dad, surmised the whole thing in two words at the start of the film, when Sid is seen drawing the Simpsons cartoon character in a paper while pretending to concentrate in his studies: "Cartoon Network."

Update: My friend tells me that my review does not seem complete, as I have not added a recommendation to it. So here is my recommendation. Watch. With your friends. Without trying to dissect every scene. Enjoy.

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The Guide - the Book, the Movie

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The Guide, the book (1958) by R K Narayan, and Guide, the film(1965) were both released before my birth, so it was perhaps inevitable that I saw the movie even before I heard of the book. In fact, at my first viewing, I did not know it was the adaptation of a book. I perhaps did not even completely follow the story, I loved the film for its songs. Ah, the songs of Guide! The hair on the back of my neck stands in reverence even as I think about them. The lyrics are mind-blowing, and even if you don't understand them, you would enjoy the melodious voices of S D Burman, Lata, Rafi and Kishore.

Anyway, I finally got around to reading the book now only - 50 years after it was first published. I believe the film has done as much justice to the book as possible (though it made the film rather too long to contain all the events of the story). True that some of the flaws of the characters in the book were straightened in the film. The heroes of a book can be defective, but not so of a movie. That part being sorted out, the only difference I could note was in the ending. The book never mentions whether it rained after all and ended the drought, or Raju survived his 12-day fasting. However in the film, it rains, and Raju dies.

The best part about reading R K Narayan's stories (Malgudi Days, Swami and Friends, and so forth) is that the characters are quite ordinary people. There is nothing "larger than life" about them. They make mistakes that you or I could make, they sometimes fail to see life flow alongside them, and plunge into its depths, swallow a great deal of water and emerge gasping and breathless. So does Raju flow with the tide, be overwhelmed by his emotions for Rosie that he lets go of his life, his Mother and every principle he lived by, finally finds himself in jail. On emerging from the jail, he is again led downstream by the current towards a small village, where he finds himself being hailed as a saint who could work wonders and bring them rain in the severe drought of the year.

Through his thoughts, we too wonder about Life, what we do with it and where it leads us.

At every mention of Raju or Rosie, in every page of the book, I saw Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman. Dev Anand, whom someone once called the "Gregory Peck of Indian cinema", more popularly known as the "Evergreen Dev Anand".


Beautiful book, beautiful film.

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Ice Age3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs

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Ice Age has come of age. Sid's herd is no longer the slow-moving, big set of bachelors they were when they restored the human baby to his Father in 2002. Manny is ready to become a father, Sid is the self-proclaimed foster-mother to three little dinosaur babies, Diego has tired of the absence of challenges in life and leaves the herd in search of adventure. The return of the Dinosaur Mother in search of her babies serves to bring the herd back together, as she carries away Sid with her to the world of the Dinosaurs, because after all, Sid is the "sticky, gluey stuff that keeps the herd together". Life picks up pace and everything happens in a Whooosh followed by a Whooosh, and the herd goes through enough adventure to make Diego want to stay back with the family.

Scrat's misadventures with his nut and his new mate become exceedingly dull and repetitive that one would want to cry, "Somebody give him an acorn, and teach him to keep it!"
Some of the jokes were not really meant for children.

The herd has become bigger, with the arrival of Ellie Junior, who they name Peaches, and a non-resident member from the Dinosaur world, the whacky weasel called Buck.

As always, I was left wondering if the movie was completely man-made? Is it possible that there is a world still covered with ice and inhabited by mammoths somewhere, that a set of men are secretly filming? How else can one explain the perfect animation and life-like animals?

The occasional ripples of laughter from the audience and the "awwww" when Peaches first arrives perhaps meant that everyone enjoyed themselves thoroughly, though more than one little baby started crying every time the dinosaur roared.


I see another adventure in store for lil Peaches and her Father, and Uncles Diego and Sid, in the form of Ice Age 4.

Now Showing. Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs.
Running to full house for the third week in cinemas across Bangalore.

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