Archive for the 'Entertainment' Category
02
Sep
09
My name is Shah Rukh Khan
03
Aug
09
SEX AAJ KAL
Movie Review : Love Aaj Kal
Stars: 2/5
Love Aaj Kal tries to be a cool, contemporary, cosmopolitan story meant for the so-called multiplex crowd ( those who are essentially tasteless, love over-eating on popcorns at unearthly hours, have assured jobs , wear 3/4ths and walk around as if the multiplex is their private baap-ka-ghar and are constantly fidgeting with SMS messages which lighten up like night-flies every 3.27 minutes ). Judging by the awkward response to some in-the-face sexually explicit digs made by Deepika Padukone to her middle-aged lover it is pretty obvious that this rather over-preachy and exaggerated love-tale has missed the point with it’s apparently niche audience. It has.
Firstly guys, let me tell you all movie critics ( not me, I go to see a Hindi film to enjoy principally it’s illogical absurdities) have gone over-board in giving this very sub-standard fare just too many stars and moons than it deserved. If a person is not talented enough to be a novelist, said Norman Mailer, not smart enough to be a lawyer , and his hands are too shaky to perform operations, he becomes a journalist. It is the residual remains from this lot who becomes a movie journalist. If you don’t believe me go read the reviews of one Taran Adarsh on www.BollywoodHungama.com who literally is the self-appointed marketing whiz for several productions ; his reviews appear before anyone else and his eulogies would even embarrass the producer himself. He does not merely write lengthy passages in pedestrian flattery of badly-made cinema but even predicts the box-office success of a film ( he gave Chake De just 2 stars and estimated it would be a colossal wash-out) . Anyway, I am sorry but I have started reviewing the movie critics themselves ( we shall do so at some other time) instead of Love Aaj Kal.
The film explores the dilemma of modern-day lovers; does sex have to necessarily lead to marriage etc etc ? Especially as several distractions with similar challenges are also groping around for quickie alternatives and are freely available at the drop of an underwear. The work-life thing only adds to the confusion and the heart-break. According to Imtiaz Ali , sex in 2009 is like an economic theory where demand = supply. If you want to fornicate, you will get some and more depending upon whether you are like Saif Ali Khan or Deepika Padukone. Good luck!
Since this is Bollywood, Imtiaz Ali ( whose Jab We Met was rather nice although it stood out in a year which saw mediocre woman-centric stories) must make sex take the back-seat and bring in the old world charm of the 1960s, where expressing lust was only for vagabonds and all you could do was to give each other coy looks , sidelong glances and sweet curd . No touchy-feely crap, no self-shooting on mobile/video voyeurism , no have-to-grab-you-on-first-date-pressures ; all that naughty stuff was only shaadi ke baad. Mercifully, although boringly predictable and an exact replica of DDLJ ( if you don’t know what that means , go watch an Akshay Kumar film as a punishment) at least this track is well-enacted. But the constant chatter between the age-old romantic ( Rishi Kapoor) and the insatiable Casanova gets pretty boring after a point. Too many words, no action.
What happens in the second – half post the “ break-up” party after both have found new soul or bed mates is unintentionally hilarious. Both their temporary appendages are treated like disposable adult diapers while the main couple dither and dance around like confused puppies chasing their own tails. The last 30 minutes is outrageously stupid despite the fact that Ali apparently thinks he is pushing the envelope. Instead he ends up pulverizing our senses.
Finally, true love triumphs over casual sex and live-in stuff. And everyone is all smiles.
Khan is good as a Sardar in love, but as the modern-day dude in ripped jeans and a roving eye he is just about as unbearable as Kareena Kapoor is in her interviews . Padukone is a leggy lass who shines in lighter moments but in the scenes demanding some serious tears and emotional churns she is like an ice-cream, sweet but cold. Dooriyan which is really a fabulous romantic number strangely enough comes in the beginning instead of where it ideally should have been, in the end. The chemistry between the lead pair lacks physics, biology and zoology.
As for Imtiaz Ali , at least he is different. Both his films have tried something new even if the novelty has not been the best experiment. There is always a third time.
05
Jul
09
KAMBAKHT GAY ISHQ
From what I have heard Kambakhth Ishq( KI) is a dreadful scare, worse than encountering an anaconda in your nightmares, hunger-pangs making him cry in anguish as he watches your expanding waistlines. I have always believed that Akshay Kumar is India’s biggest non-actor, an Italian furniture import with a few hilarious cracks, and Kareena Kapoor, an over-inflated media creation, a bimbo on a limbo, pirouetting around with a cocky attitude, her only asset being her surname, a sub-size zero and a half torso, and a previously retired husband of someone, now single and happy to be her lap-puppy. Considering the fact that the supposedly atrocious film is about the battle of the sexes, it is perhaps a most suitable coincidence that the gay issue becomes the central topic of our times. I have been told that after watching the hideous KI, the gay movement is likely to get a huge momentum, as the opposite sexes have discovered that they have only one thing in common, their mutual contempt for each other. To sustain longevity, Pfizer would have to look at life beyond inventing the Viagra.
On a more serious note, I had never thought that the gay issue would become such a national obsession or movement so early; frankly, it is both gay and great news. The Indian media definitely deserves credit for it, albeit I foresee this issue also snowballing into a farcical TRP game , if not approached with due sensitivity. Hearing Union Law Minister Veerappa Moily talk on gays ( he looks flushed with awkwardness, and terribly ill at ease) is funnier than watching KI for sure. And yesterday there was this yoga guru Baba Ramdev giving the world the “cure” against homosexuality; pranayam, it seems. He is presumptuous enough to believe that they all have either serious sinusitis or blood pressure problems as well. Baba should first ensure a cure against celebrities and all sorts indulging in rape and violence against women and minor children in the private perimeters of their walls before commenting on the sexual preferences of others, not to mention the innumerable bearded men in saffron clothes posing as sadhus who molest innocent and hapless devotees in the name of god. That I believe is the ultimate in terms of a soul on sale at the altar of the Almighty.
I admit to being influenced greatly by two films on gays; Philadelphia ( Tom Hanks) and Milk. The first was deeply touching, and made a point, that love has nothing to do with the sexual positions adopted by the partners. Milk was an outstanding narration of the real-life story of Harvey Milk, who fought for gay rights and transformed lives of those who were treated as social deviants by a bigoted society. That same-sex marriages are a reality today is a manifestation of a world that understands that there is nothing god-ordained where matters of the sex are concerned.
Unknown to many of the antiquated warped old minds , obsolescent in their rigid beliefs, the gays are not fighting for their sexual gratification requirements alone, they are principally fighting for their right to love. The two are integral and inclusive, not divorced from each other. It is kambakhth ishq! Like the movie, we should leave them alone.
03
Jul
09
MJ
Hi, I have been all over the place, hence the delay in the blog update. But in the meantime a real incredible popstar is suddenly gone, at a young age of 50. Expectedly, all hell has broken loose, and in death Michael Jackson has suddenly found friends who just can’t help remembering how wonderful he was as they become ubiquitous features on chat shows, a plastic smile and unending nostalgia emanating from them. It is shockingly brazen! Out of the blue, MJs ex-wife has disclosed the paternity of the children, and tabloids are having a field day as even the autopsy report is leaked ( obviously for a price). CNN and FOX may have slept through the Iran turmoil, but now they are covering the movement of every single leaf and every passerby in a Lexus around MJs home. . And MJ has not even been buried yet.
I will write on the subject later, but isn’t the whole circus reaching the pits?
18
Jun
09
BILLU BILLIONAIRE
Movie Rating: 4/5
Billu barber ( Irfan Khan) lives in the charming country-side of Bubuda, virtually penniless and without much hair left to cut. The reason behind his collapsing business is a new rival outfit , the rural avatar of Bombay Blunt , a modern salon , with revolving chairs, green-colored gels, electric trimmers , foreign shampoos and a “hairdresser” ( now please don’t protest, guys), who wears clothes which are as glaring as his sunglasses.
Billu’s two kids are on the verge of being thrown out of school, as the straight as a ramrod principled and semi-stubborn Billu refuses to cut edges for survival. Things look bleaker for Billu and family than the dark overcast clouds on the village skyline suggests. But there is a silver lining round the corner . Or is it?
India’s reigning superstar Sahir Khan ( Shah Rukh Khan) comes to shoot his futuristic techno-razz at the picturesque location. The starry-eyed yokels go crazy, the town is engulfed in irrational frenzy, and everyone wants to touch and feel the magical Khan; even feed him and give him a tub bath. It is hilarious, authentic and damn real. Khan manfully survives the ridiculous obsession and literal hero-worshipping, but the poor barber doesn’t.
The village goes into a tipsy drunken state when rumor mongers insist that the modest Billu in fact knows the celebrated hero as they were supposedly childhood friends. Overnight, Billu becomes the cherished one amongst the country-bumpkins. Bubuda buzzes with Billu bhayankar ( deadly Billu). But does the reigning King Khan really know the impoverished hair-cutter?
Billu’s kids suddenly get free education in the private school, and his disintegrating shop gets charitable donations of the entire modern day barber sales and operations kit. But the star-struck villagers want their pound of the super-hero, and Billu must deliver at least a handshake, a meal or a speech with his famous friend. Even wife Bindiya ( Lara Dutta) is gradually sucked up in the changing saga of Billu’s transformed existence.
But Billu does not just fail to deliver, he cannot even contact Sahir Khan, enveloped on all sides by Z level security , and a personal staff which guards him as the jewel of India.
As the enraged cheated villagers turn their ire on Billu, he is left isolated. The whole world thinks he is a crafty cheat, even his kids think he is just a phony. So does the audience.
In the ending sequence of the film, some home-truths tumble out. The superstar Khan gives an inspirational talk to the school-children before leaving the village for tinsel-town , and therein reveals the humble origins of his beginning. And that of a friend who changed his life.
Billu Barber is a simple story of a stubborn good man , living by his principles and penury. And self-respect. As Billu, Irfan Khan is first-rate, and by the end, will want you to have a trim under his expressive, watchful eyes. Great stuff! Lara Dutta, as his caring better half, touches just the right chords, even managing the rustic dialect with ease. The usual assortment of Priyadarshan characters loom large like a kebab platter , impregnating the movie with humour, spice and colourful diversity.
Shah Rukh Khan dances with three sexy sirens, to bring in Gen Y to the theatres. The Love Mera Hit Hit with Deepika Padukone is like a red hot chilly peppers sizzler. And Khudaya Khair lingers on as does Priyanka Chopra with her long legs.
As for SRK, for a seasoned star to play himself, it is pure cheesecake. He is indeed a rock star. But when the two Khans meet in the end, Billu Barber assumes incredible proportions of fine acting . The barber in fact emerges a rich soul with just a rupee in his pocket.
In the age of Dev D , what we need is a Billu B ..
18
Jun
09
EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY
Movie Review: Slumdog Millionaire
Rating : 4.25
Who Wants To B A Millionaire? Perhaps most , but not Jamal, and therein lies the irony of Slumdog Millionaire. Jamal is on that quiz show only to locate his lost love, the bountiful Rs 20 million prize as meaningless to him as the inexplicable contempt with which his famous quiz –master host treats him. That is the triumph of the movie, and the human story behind it. The buzz, the fame, the cameras and the money for a boy who rises from desperate crumbs to graduate to being a tea-server in a BPO, hold no relevance. Nothing at all. He looks dazed and nonplussed by all the hullabaloo about his great win.
The fact that the protagonist and his brother are fortunate survivors from a riot-scarred Muslim family underscores the point that pain and agony, struggle and survival are not the prerogative of any one community; it cuts across religious and communal barriers. For those who saw the Mumbai riots of 1992 ( I did) , the truism of the devastation shows. As does the lives of those small faces telling us their hunger pangs as they sell the Mid-Day to us at Churchgate station. Have you ever wondered, where do they finally go to sleep? Who gives them a Crocin tablet when the viral fever rises? And do they ever drink filtered water? Just how does the occasional ten buck donation add up?
The growth of the two brothers into terribly contrasting characters, each rationalized by their circumstance and personality type is pure Salim-Javed ( Salim and Jamal??) and Bollywood masala. But where Danny Boyle scores is his ability to tell a story as is; not too much of overdone dialogues and a moral discourse , just the expression of anguish. Of loss. Of hope.
For Jamal, finding Latika is his only goal, and even as she becomes a gangster’s keep, he knows she must find her freedom. That one of the three musketeers must die is about redemption. And heroism. But it gives the tale a realistic poignant touch. In two hours we travel through the lives of three children, and leave numbed by their horrific experiences.
It took a British film-maker Sam Mendes to make the outstanding American Beauty, a look at suburban life in a modest middle-class home in America, torn apart by sheer vulnerabilities of daily grind and hidden complexities . Nobody grudged him the cinematic success. It won him Oscars, deservingly. Boyle paints an Indian story of spirit and spunk, of survival and strength. The slums are just a background. But they are real. And if you drive down Dharavi even today, the squalor and the stink, the muck and the Mercedes will still be there.
Where the film wins is in it’s universal appeal, which actually comes from the most basic human want; love. If you have found love even if you are in a doghouse , who wants to be a millionaire?
18
Jun
09
BOLLYWOOD’S UGLY NIGHT
Last night, one saw an unprecedented ugly spat between the so-called brotherhood of Bollywood fraternity on public display at the Star Screen Awards at MMRDA Grounds, Bandra. Frankly, the award show was rolling along fairly smoothly , with the hosts Sajid Khan ( Hey Baby) , Shreyas Talpade and Farah Khan ( choreographer and OSO director) doing their entertaining bit, with the standard scripted buffoonery and spontaneous digs at all and sundry. There were the usual impersonations of the Dostana homosexuality angle and the Fashion wardrobe malfunctions. In fact, it looked instinctive for most parts, and an engaging tongue-in-cheek affair, almost reminiscent of the hilarious Filmfare awards of last year hosted by Shah Rukh Khan and Saif Ali Khan, which was smart spoofiness at its sardonic best. At one point Sajid Khan even wondered aloud if Farah Khan was indeed a woman! The sister guffawed back-stage. Then suddenly Ashutosh Gowariker happened.
Gowariker’s modest commercial earner but critically acclaimed Jodhaa Akbar got the Best Film Award, and as the bulky director of Lagaan and Swades took center-stage , all verbal hell broke loose. Let me try and rephrase the conversation as close to what was probably uttered :
Gowariker: I am dismayed and disturbed by the ridiculous manner in which these award functions make fun of people like us who work in the industry. This is a solemn occasion to recognize talent and not to make jokes and poke fun. I look forward to these occasions and Sajid and Farah Khan are making a mockery of things.
Sajid ( interrupts): Ashu, this is an awards show, we have to entertain our live and TV audiences. This is fun, and we are only doing so in a lighter vein. See, everyone is laughing and enjoying themselves. I thought we are one big family.
Gowariker ( interrupts): What rubbish! We all work hard to make these films, only to be insulted by you guys? . Why were you hustling all when they were making their thank-you speeches, and then you jabber away to glory unrestrained? I wanted to hear the Marathi award winners make their small speeches too? .
Sajid ( interrupts): Ashu, we have instructions to keep the program going. We have to be brief, that is our mandate.
Gowariker: Shut up!
Sajid: Who are you to say shut up to me?
Gowariker: Shut up! I know this bit will be edited before it is aired on TV but you all are a shame and an embarrassment.
Sajid: We care for the only one true judge—- the audience. No one else can tell us what is right or wrong or to shut up.
Later, Amar Singh , Samajwadi Party MP who has a knack for landing up at all award shows with the Bachchan family, uses the platform to applaud Gowariker ‘s vocal outburst against the show hosts.
Sajid, Farah and Shreyas looked completely devastated and blown off by the vitriolic exchange as the entire junta and the Bollywood celebrities sat stunned at the nasty altercation. But Farah Khan added that she was not going to apologise for entertaining people the way they did as she had no hidden malice whatsoever.
In between, in the ultimate coup of sorts, India’s biggest ““state non-actor” Akshay Kumar received the popular award of Best Actor for Singh is Not King or something akin to that , which left him as stunned as the disbelieving audience. Then Kumar put on the biggest farce act seen since Mukri and Johny Walker in the 1960s movies ; in a somber voice he dedicated the award to———guess whom? Aamir Khan for Ghajini. Really? Such fake biraadri has never been seen before in India’s vicious ego-driven tinsel-town. Looking appropriately rehearsed, and with deliberate intent Kumar serenaded Aamir Khan throughout his affected speech even as he assiduously plugged his forthcoming Chandni Chowk into it as well. Very fishy stuff, and the Aamir Khan bit seemed hugely suspect. Then dramatically, he left the golden statue behind. That by itself looked like his best ” performance” to date.
The brother-sister duo of Sajid and Farah who were hopping around with great enthusiasm till the dramatic confrontation with Gowariker, were visibly shaken. The end was a huge anti-climax. In fact, the stars bolted out of sight even as the fire-crackers adorned the night sky.
My verdict: Farah Khan and Sajid do not just laugh at others, they laugh at themselves more. And that to me is a sign of people who have a sense of humour and are essentially well adjusted. Om Shanti Om was a reflection of that wild spirit. Even SRK laughed off that dog bit from Aamir Khan, which was in pathetic taste, I thought. In fact, he even takes jokes on his rumored sexuality with a cool indifferent stride.
Last night, Gowariker forgot that if Bollywood cannot learn to laugh at itself, it does not deserve to call itself an ” entertainment” industry yet. It is immature, hyper-sensitive , narcissistic, over-rated, and even its creative juices are perhaps just manufactured for public consumption, without any real convictions. In private ( and without taking away their professional expertise) , they are just small-time churlish sorts with a warped sense of self-importance ( who have been given exaggerated importance by the national media) , perversely ill-humored and lacking basic social graces .
Both Gowariker and Bollywood need to grow up. It will help if they watch a few Jim Carey films. Then imitate him in real life before plagiarizing it on the multiplex screen. That will be what a Momento!
18
Jun
09
ROAR OF THE BORE
Ghajani: Movie Review
Rating: I am still searching the bottom of the barrel
Three weeks after watching a tortured expression of a grim-faced Aamir Khan staring down at me with an intimidating stare from the billboards , all bulging triceps and tattoo marks all over, with loud proclamations of a monster hit with Rs 170 crores in the producers kitty, I ventured this week end to watch Ghajini with keen anticipation of wholesome entertainment. Three painful , excruciating hours later, I stepped out of the multiplex where even the wintry evening smog was welcome inhalation. It sure was a monstrous bore, a completely predictable dark film with an inane plot headed nowhere. In short, Ghajini is a technically polished , massively self-obsessed B-grade South Indian rasam masala –mix film, pretending to be a complex modern psychological thriller. What a gargantuan meltdown!
I am clueless to several irrational stupidities in the film;
- Since short-term memory loss happens to Aamir’s character every 15 minutes, how does he even know or remember the beginning of his whole mission? Shouldn’t then his start be on a completely new slate?
- How does he suddenly become a dangerous psychopath, with almost superhero strength? And pray, the tattoos on his body have no linkage to the movie? They are actually totally irrelevant to the script.
- How come no one has ever seen a single photo of the hot and happening telecom czar in a media infested world, when the man usually travels in a convoy of 4 Mercedes cars, has a huge private jet, a personal assistant running around with a wireless laptop, and publicly shops for strategic hoardings?
- The incongruous logic of keeping Aamir’s identity a secret becomes a yawning stretch, and lacks complete logic and common sense. It is beyond a point , an unbearable extension of one’s thinning patience.
- Who is this warped villain, who simultaneously runs a respectable pharma firm, is a day-light killer, donates charity money, runs a child prostitution racket, lives in a shady labrynth of lanes, and has six uncouth bodyguards resembling left-overs from the Lord of the Rings animals who are constantly armed with choppers, knives and sledgehammers. Whew! It is such pedestrian C-grade stuff, I could not believe I was watching the man from Lagaan, Taare Zameen Par and Rang De Basanti.
The film is a mindless orgy of senseless violence, meant to display that the 5ft 4 Aamir Khan can run like a crazed bull on a treadmill, make funny sounds when all tied up, and roar like a raging wild boar prior to being readied for a salami sandwich. It is pitiable cinema. Khan is a studied rehearsed actor , perhaps Ghajini is his way of redefining the phrase , a method in the madness. For Aamir, sadly this movie reflects that there is madness in his method as well. Asin over-acts to the point of exasperation, although in some scenes when she has restrained her facial muscle movements and over-done gesticulations, she is not as grating on your nerves. Jiah Khan is like screeching tyres on a slippery road, while Pradeep Rawat is as repugnant as cockroaches served as croutons in your cream tomato soup. AR Rahman’s music is surprisingly insipid.
If you have already seen the film, which I guess most have by reading the box-office numbers, I am sure it is thanks to the huge hype which Mr Khan relentlessly heaped on us a few days after the Mumbai 26/11 attacks. If you have not seen it, thank your lucky stars and avoid it as you would a common cold. As for buying the DVD of Ghajini, I would not recommend it at all. Imagine having to also see the deleted scenes of this exaggerated nonsense that is nothing but a huge monumental massacre of your sensibilities. And Aamir Khan now also giving you dirty looks from the personal confines of your own dear glass shelf.
18
Jun
09
WHAT WOMEN WANT?
RAB NE BANA DI JODI
Movie Review:
Rating: 4
“What do women really want?”
A confused, dapper-local Casanova with torn-washed jeans who wears glares even in Amritsari dusk , Shah Rukh Khan asks this of his dancing queen Anushkha Sharma. She turns philosophical and says that a woman wants a man to love her more than anything else in the world.
If Rab Ne has a sequel ( they should try that considering “Suri” is now becoming a cult figure) , hopefully they will find an answer to that age-old question that foxed even the great master Sigmund Freud himself.
Shah Rukh plays a bumbling fumbling customer service clerk in a public sector undertaking servicing phone calls. Surinder “Suri” Sahni is madly in love with his monotonous job, and answers his customers with remarkable enthusiasm which would give our 20 something /BPO types an inferiority complex. Tragedy is , that his heart beats wildly for his new bride married to him in typical Bollywood- formula circumstances. The father of the bride has a sudden heart-attack following the bridegroom’s accident; a double jeopardy. The modern-thinking young Miss Millie acquiesces to her father’s last wishes and marries the bespectacled, awkward looking, thoroughly smitten Suri.
Sharma though tell him point-blank that they will have a platonic relationship , and you do not blame her when you look at Suri’s contrasting concave shape to her more proportioned one. But Suri is in luck and in love but having never even touched a woman before, he is as confused and befuddled as a dog trying to comprehend Shakespeare. . With a little help from a spiked , orange-haired salon keeper Bobby Khosla ( Vinay Pathak in a brilliant cameo) with a dress sense more boisterous than his manners , Suri transforms into wannabe dancer so that he can become more hero like for his disillusioned wife, match her step by step, and win a dance reality show with her. And hopefully also her heart. Of course, Suri does so in a contrasting appearance, tight jeans that almost squeeze out his oranges, a skin-hugging Ulhasnagar produced Ed Hardy tees, and a macho walk with large pendulum swings left to right and back.
One of the coolest scenes in the movie is when Anushka gets into a verbal warfare with a grumpy rival, and SRK attempts to make peace, looking shell-shocked as the bitch word is uttered with insouciant comfort by his unsuspecting wife. The movie has some simple charming moments; SRK’s chat with his own mannequin, the sheer delight of receiving the packed tiffin, stuffing up on chicken biryani after a gol-gappa competition, and sharing his emotional graph with his best buddy, who is busy giving him cupid tricks.
Haule Haule and Dance pe Chance are well choreographed, and linger long. The parody of yesteryear heroes is average fare, and the title song is passable. The end credits are worth a delayed exit.
SRK carries the film with his usual hallmark style —-great body language, subtle expressions, and romantic eyes. He switches roles with effortless ease, making both the avatars become endearing . Anushka Sharma is a scene-stealer shining scene after scene with a pleasant presence in front of the camera for a first timer. And she does not let SRKs charm subdue her own chutzpah. It’s a top notch debut. Pathak is so good you want him to cut your receding hairline.
The movie has some silly flaws, but this is entertaining cinema , not a social commentary on marriage readjustments. Rab Ne is a simple story, simply told. I don’t think Aditya Chopra was attempting a master-piece. But Sharma and SRK through a vibrant yet understated chemistry tell us all that to make a jodi, you don’t need words. Just simple demonstrations of it. Some thoughtful action. Tender caring. And maybe even some dance.
So what does a woman really want? May be a man will have to become a woman to answer that foxy question. Because the truth is that sometimes women themselves do not know the answer. Suri does try though. Really hard. And with heartfelt sincerity. And for that alone, you must watch Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi.
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