Slumdog: short music review

In my review of Slumdog Millionaire,  I made passing remarks about its music. Here is a little more detailed review:

1. O Saya: Interesting. Although too much of Euro junk mixed.
2. Riots: Give me Bombay theme any day. Forget haunting, this hardly even registers.
3. Mausam and Escape: Just when you enjoy the sitar (is it?), the Euro-junk kicks in. Has energy though, just like O Saya. As far as theme music goes, this is pretty much up there.
4. Paper Planes: Pure Euro Junk.
5. Paper Planes (DFA Remix): As if pure Euro-junk wasn’t enough, mixed with more pure Euro Junk.
6. Ringa Ringa: Choli ke peeche genre marketed to westerners by putting it on adrenaline.
7. Liquid Dance: Best of the lot. The mixing doesn’t seem to smother it into the same pulp like some others. Although that “heyyyy” cry once too many irritates. Would have been so much interesting with a little less screwing around with it. Still one of the best in the soundtrack
8. Latika’s theme: Serves the purpose. Pure utilitarian.
9. Aaj Ki Raat: No comments.
10. Millionaire: Forgettable
11. Gangsta Blues: This has “I can do this shit too” written all over it.
12. Dreams on fire: Soulless soul
13. Jai Ho: Has energy. Utilitarian. Bolly-music fruit-plate served on a with some European seasoning.

Final score? Well 2.5/5. That’s being generous. Especially considering Dev D music review is pending (go check that out instead!)

Slumdog …

More than a month back a friend, who lives in US for a while now, wrote me a mail:

“Have you watched Slumdog Millionaire?”

Just one line.

“Nope. Recommend?”

I asked.

“YES. YES. YES”, she replied.

That was that. The movie wasn’t released here, and I couldn’t find a decent torrent, so just filed it for a future viewing. Then more and more reviews started coming in. “Oh, what a score by Rahman”, “Oh, what a realistic movie”, “Eye opener”…

I was already losing interest (yes, after Black and Taren Zameen Par, I’ve started to grow weary of anything that’s both critically and popularly acclaimed). Then, of course, came the Golden Globes. And I knew that I had to watch it, before everyone started me asking that question.

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There is a scene in the movie, where Jamal, the protagonist, takes a mid-aged American tourist couple to the world’s largest “Dhobi Ghaat” (washline?). While he’s showing them around, his perennially misguided brother with the help of other kids from the basti close by, cleans up whatever he can of the tourist vehicle that’s parked unattended (with the Indian driver deciding to, curiously I must add — for what interest would he have in the dhobi ghaat? — leave it unattended there and take the tour with the couple and Jamal) – tires, wheel caps, even wheels …

When Jamal returns with the couple, the driver goes all mad and starts beating Jamal, a half man half boy (only the circumstances having made a half man out of him — his age is of a boy) black and blue. The American couple intervenes, kindly.

“You wanted to see real India, that’s what I was showing you”, Jamal mutters (something to that effect).

“And let me show you the real America”, the lady says, thrusting money into the boy’s pockets.

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If I were to write a summation of the movie, I could have hardly summed it better than that scene. Show the real India to the west, and walk away with international currency! Only, make sure you add a little Indian spices: spirit of India, colors of India, and cook it up well, and put in a happy ending.

Slumdog is well made. Acting is good. Editing is excellent. For that it’s worth a watch. But apart from that, it left me dry, just like the soundtrack. This stale khichadi served with fried kaju isn’t exactly my idea of an excellent dish.

Quarter of thousand, and soulless…

A ticket at Metro Adlabs: Rs 250

Number of people killed on screen: At least 250

Boredom: Priceless

There are some things money can’t buy. They come as a free gift.

The new bond flick is probably my second fastest viewing (in terms of watching a movie after it was released in India) of any film in recent history. It was unquestionably the most expensive (although I didn’t pay for the tickets). And that meant, getting out was out before the credits rolled was out of question. And so I sat and endured.

Plus points? It’s sleek. The action is good (although senseless). Daniel Craig, after my initial reservations, impressed me with his murderous performance — as the Bond 2.0: the cold-blooded killer, who kills with relish, almost. And Olga Kurylenko is stunnig at times.

Well, what more do I ask from a Bond movie? Well fair question.

My comment as I walked out of the theater was: we should have watched part one first. I was only joking. Only later did I realize the joke was on me. And that might be the reason why I didn’t find the story. Yes. By the time credits rolled, and my conscience allowed me to get out, I was still searching for one.This could easily have been a Van Damme or Steven Segal movie.

It made me feel old again. Not just because the people I watched it with were much younger. It’s this unease about the bond 2.0 — the killer machine. I so missed Sean Connary’s superhuman and yet very human bond.

I think they mis-spelt the title.

PS: This Herald-Sun review is bang on target:

The James Bond of Quantum of Solace is tired, angry, paranoid and extremely stressed.

Didn’t I tell you? It’s Bond 2.0. A fitting tribute to our world 2.0.

Jaane Tu and an Altered Monologue

eik: This is asli entertainment man! Full2 paisa-wasool.

do: Hmmm.

eik: What? You didn’t like it?

do: I didn’t say that.

eik: So you liked it?

do: I didn’t say that either.

eik: Oh! Come on. do’t give me that shit. What’s your problem? Why can’t you enjoy a simple romantic comedy.

do: Well, it’s complicated.

eik: What’s bloody complicated about a simple movie? You either like it or you don’t. And either ways, it’s simple.

do: That’s the problem.

eik: Grrrr! Would you tell me what was your problem with the movie?

do: Let’s see. Where do I get started.

eik: Okay, you can act normal. You aren’t talking to a crowd. Start anywhere.

do: Let’s start at the end then. “please don’t go” … “I’m not going stupid”. I mean WTF! What happened to that film-making or whatever course in New York university or whatever?

eik: Dude! You’re splitting hairs.

do: No! No! That’s the whole point! All these twenty-somethings — all they’re interested in is parties, boy/girl-friends, and so on. This supposedly poor hero of ours is least worried about lack of job. No one wants to do anything other than “hanging out” with friends or girl/boy-friend.

eik: Dude, you’re getting old.

do: Wait! I’m getting there. You’d think only the young would be engrossed in such madness? But every parent in the movie seems worried about only one thing: will their dear child get “the one”. I mean surely at 21, you don’t see parents, pretty rich parents at that, worried about “too many proposals will come in, so why not get her engaged asap?” And surely, a single working mom would be worried more about her son getting a job, rather than what’s happening in his romantic life, no?

eik: Sigh! It’s a film. Could you stop reading it like a sociological treatise? What do you want them to show – these characters going for job interviews, their moms and dads worried about their future, and getting heat attacks? Would that please you?”

do: Shut up. And what’s this Rajput thing? Isn’t it enough that the guy is nice and all. Why does he have to hit somebody before he’s accepted as man? Isn’t this taking away his agency?”

eik: Oye, pseudo intellectual, I give up. There is no pleasing you. Why do I even bother!

do: Exactly.

Das Leben der Anderen

The lives of others. 1:20 AM, The End.

Lost for words. Do watch it.

Valu: Chronicles of life unfold(ed)

Post Shwaas, it looked like Marathi films were set for a long overdue resurgence. Much was made of it, in fact. Although I’ve missed quite a few of the films in that time, some which I watched didn’t impress me much. They still seemed playing a catch-up game (but I could be very wrong, because I haven’t watched many, I’ll reiterate). And just as I was beginning to wonder if it’s going to be a lull again, with filmmakers settling into a predictable format, Valu has restored my faith.

Punds wrote an excellent review here, which everyone should read, if they’re deciding on whether to watch the movie. He’s very thorough as usual. I’m just going to say one thing: watch Valu. Of course, I don’t know what a non-Marathi speaking person can take home from the movie, because there isn’t much “happening”. Much of the movie is in the dialogs. I think this film will be very hard to translate. I shudder to think of what the sub-titles are going to be!

On the technical sides, the cinematography, as Punds has observed too, is top-notch. Never before, can I remember a Marathi film capturing the breathtaking landscapes of the rural Maharashtra so well. I was glad I watched it on the big screen. No songs to disturb the flow, either! And the background score is haunting to say the least.

But Valu’s greatest value is the way it has depicted the rural Marathi culture in confident brush strokes — painting the canvas one random square at a time. It reminded me of the great Marquez and his Chronicles of Death Foretold — the way the story unfolds, not through one narrator, but rather through multiple narrators, who’re probably as trustworthy as a sensationalist news anchor. In one scene in particular, the narrator’s voice says something, as something else happens — casting doubts on the veracity of the whole affair. It’s hard to trust anything, then on — it’s like the snapshot of the beginning of a folklore. Another similarity with “Chronicles” is the chronicler being part of the chronicles: the documentary man, who’s at the same time the noun and the verb. The chroniclers are a bunch of people who want a “documentary” to be done on them .

And delightful is the tone of the language, so close to the real dialects I’ve heard – including the English words that have filtered into even the rural vocabulary now, although their forms alien to the urban ear. I could hear people asking each other what did a particular character say, a few times. The multiplex “Marathi” audience is probably as away from this world as the national/Internationl audience.

Lastly, it can easilly be viewed as a simple, light-hearted comedy too — thus making it equally enjoyable to those who just want to have a good time without thinking about it. Valu is surely one of the best Marathi films I’ve seen for a while. If you understand Marathi, just go watch it.

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Another excellent review here.

Khoya Hua Chand

Sudhir Mishra’s Khoya Khoya Chand is another gem that’s lost to the dreaded anonymity of Bollywood. When I was a kid, I used to hear this phrase: “dabbyat gela” (lost into a box), about movies and believe that there is some big box where they throw these movies (and from where the Doordarshan fetches and plays them). Sigh, there really is a box, albeit metaphorical.

I wanted to watch KKC in theaters, too, just like No Smoking. But in two weeks it seemed to have vanished, staying true to its name. So I was left with having to watch it on a DVD. The film is an almost lyrical and yet hard-hitting portrayal of the Hindi film industry’s golden past.

If Farah Khan’s OSO was a tongue-in-cheek insider joke on the industry, KKC is a slightly frosted mirror, that might add it’s own anomalies, but still tells the story. KKC is a story of Nikhat (Soha Ali Khan), an aspiring actress who is spotted (and used) by a star actor Prem Kumar (Rajat Kapoor), and gives her her first real break. Enter Zaffar (Shiney Ahuja), a writer from UP, who is a man who lives on his own terms. The love story unfolds, and with that unfolds the story of an era — of dreams, back-stabbings, heartbreaks, using-and-being-used, and the indefatigable spirits that shine through. It’s the story of the troubled men and women who made that era special.

Like most movies, it’s not even close to perfect, but Khoya Khoya Chand is still a gem, for what it has tried to do. The direction is, of course, top-notch. The performances are a mixed bag, with Soha at once charming and disappointing (especially in her dialog delivery). Rajat Kapoor is competent, Shiney uninspiring yet measured for the most part, and Vinay Pathak a little underutilized. Sonya Jehan plays a cameo which wants you to see more of her, alas it’s a very short cameo.

The music is such a binder for this movie, with an excellent title track that sets up the love story, and Pakhi Re – Sonu Nigam’s haunting rendition, and couple of jazzy numbers… Hardly a song seems misplaced or lingering longer than needed.

This is by no means an easy movie to watch, because it doesn’t have a story to speak of. It’s the nuances that set it apart. It’s no surprise that it bombed on the box office. Still, I feel sad, for this is an accomplished work of art. My review is hardly convincing, yet, to those who enjoy intense cinema, this is a must watch.

Acting: (3/5)
Dialogs: 4/5
Scrips: 4/5
Direction: 4/5
Music: 4/5
Overall: 4/5

Jab We Yawned

Finally I watched one of the biggest hits of the season, Jab We Met, despite my reservations (more than two hours of the ever irritating Ms. Kapoor!). And by the end I wondered what made it a hit? I had loved Imtiaz Ali’s earlier movie, Ahista Ahista, which stayed true to its name, and was paced really slow. Still, it had a lot to take away from. I could empathize with the characters, and their struggles. The lead character of Abhay Deol was not a buttered up, huge hearted hero, but just a normal guy with a selfish streak, and the chemistry was good. It almost reminded me of Rajanigandha. JWM, on the other hand left me dry. The only saving grace was Shahid Kapoor’s effective underplay.

If Mr. Ali had told Kareena to do an underplay, it would have perfectly worked: the left over over-acting then would have been just about enough. Unfortunately Ali seems to have forgotten the “level” at which Kareena acts, and the over-the-top character goes so over the top that the chappar goes off. Thankfully I had read a couple of reviews which told me that the overacting just lasts about 2 hours, so I had something to look forward to.

The storyline seems like a remake of Ahista Ahista, with reshuffle and a little morphing. Common threads? Middle class naive girl running away from home to get married to her flame, a noble knight to save her when she’s in distress, the girl’s boyfriend ditching her (by accident or design), the girl gravitating towards the knight, the boyfriend coming back … even love changing the knight: who shades of complacency/dejection. I guess the bitter pill that Ali had to swallow after Ahista Ahista must have made him tell the story in a different way. It seems to have worked for most, however I am lamenting demise of another sensitive director.

All in all, it’s a thumbs-down. The movie is neither entertaining, nor does it have depth, and it hangs like a trishanku in a no man’s land. The cinematography and the like are definitely better, couple of songs are haunting (actually just one), but in most departments that matter, the movie is disappointing.

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Acting: (3/5: Minus Kareena of course)
Dialogs: 3/5
Scrips: 1/5
Direction: 2/5
Music: 2/5
Overall: 2/5

Na Ja, Bach Le

Look at this cast: Konkona Sen, Irfaan Khan, Raghuvir Yadav, Vinay Pathak. Now, try to remember the most uninspiring performances by each of them. Now try to imagine all these uninspiring performances in one film. Still, you’d be ill prepared to handle this “mummy returns” movie. That, in nutshell, is my review of Aja Nachle.

If you still haven’t watched the movie, stay away. If you still want to know more: the script is pretty lame, characters are pretty underdeveloped, music is uninspiring, the dialogs are worse. And to top it all up, dances are a big letdown: imagine, with Madhuri around! No I’ve never been a fan of her acting, but dance she can! Or could, if this latest effort is a sign of things to come.

The storyline is juvenile to say the least. A small town girl runs away with an American photographer after a breezy romance started by some mirchi-pakoras, and some desi-gobar. Her family leaves the town in disgrace. A few years later she’s back (properly divorced and with an annoying pre-teen daughter, and a brand new NRI outlook, complete with understanding of Indian culture and all) in search of her guru who’s died just in time, to save us all from a melodramatic reunion (about the only god’s grace in the whole movie – however we still have to bear with his parting shot, recorded on a film-reel and all), to find the dance and play theater facing a demolition order for building a shopping mall. Since in America, they don’t do such things, the lady is up in arms, with nothing but her arms and feet at her disposal. And what a battle it is. The local politician leader, a la bajrang dal character, is converted in a minute into a character in the play — a play that stands between the theater and the mall, thanks to a childish challenge taken up by the friendly neighborhood villain, the ever smiling, pizza-making son of the local ex-raja. Oh yes, then there is the old flame who’s re-charmed: err, to take part in the play (what did you think?). The good, as always triumphs over the evil, and they all live happily ever after, and so do you — after getting a peak at such an immense boredom, life seems a tad better.

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Acting: 2/5 (or 1 or 3, I don’t really care to quantify)
Dialogs: -5/5
Scrips: What?
Direction: Come again?
Music: 1/5
Overall: 1.5/5

No Smoking – Review and more

I wanted to catch No Smoking in the theaters, but I’m a lazy guy. By the time I actually checked out the papers for current movies, it was off the screens. Then last week I went to the DVD store to check out if Jhonny Gaddar’s DVD was out. It was, so just on an impulse I asked if No Smoking is out, and it was too. I guess, once it was out of theaters in a week or two, I should have expected that.

I haven’t watched Black Friday yet. I guess that was a good thing, because when I watched No Smoking, I had no expectations whatsoever of Anurag Kashyap. Sure a lot of people had praised Black Friday, but I tend to keep my mind clean of such praise/scathing. To the extent possible, that is.

Yesterday, finally, I picked up No Smoking DVD. I was alone at home, with nothing better to do (too tired to read, even), and decided to pick up the movie. No Smoking pulled me in right in the first few scenes. And two hours later, I was a satisfied man.

A few days back, I had checked out Kashyap’s post on PFC, and Khalid Mohamed’s review, and some more posts on PFC, castigating Khalid. I ended up satirizing the whole episode on my other blog, KandaBatata. Today, I realize Anurag’s angst, and angst of all those at PFC, who have been supporting him.

I can understand people not ‘getting‘ the movie. I can even understand reviewers not getting the movie. What I cannot understand is the thrashing, the venomous, spiteful dismissal of a work that is as audacious and undertaking as any in the recent past. I cannot think of anything that comes even close.

No, No Smoking isn’t the perfect movie. But then, which movie is perfect? What No Smoking is, is a very intelligent movie. Indulgent, but engrossing. It makes you think. While leafing through some online reviews of the movie, I caught names like Matrix, Memento. But Matrix is a very simple action movie with a little bit of metaphysical expropriation from some Vedic concepts (or its parallels), and a little bit of science fiction thrown in to complete a package. And Memento just had a clever twist in a very normal story played backwards. The film that comes to my mind (and some bloggers have mentioned Lynch, too), is David Lynch’s Mulholland Dr. Incidentally that film is on my top ten list. It’s brilliantly conceived, and there are so many layers, so many interpretations, so many meanings, and yet it’s not random. Watch it intently, and you’ll get it. Get enough of it, anyway, to make sense. And you’ll watch it again, and again, to get it all.

No Smoking, in contrast seems to have a central meaning that’s much more obvious. Sure, there will be many interpretations, but Anurag has left enough clues to drive home what he intended (and then has even spilled the beans in his posts). I cannot claim to have understood the whole movie. It’s definitely a movie to be watched couple of times if not more, going back and forth. Still, it wasn’t that hard to get. Not even for me who hasn’t watched much of European on independent cinema, or Korean or whatever cinema for that matter; who isn’t much versed in the vocabulary of film-making; who isn’t much of an avid movie-watcher (give me a book anyday). And that’s why I cannot really get the likes of Khalid Mohamad pissing all over the pages, and taking pleasure, like a kid taking pleasure in dismantling a meticulously created house of cards.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for criticism. But how many films even try to go where Kashyap has gone? Surely, in an industry where people make meaningless films day in day out, one, even if misplaced attempt (in his evaluation), isn’t going to harm the industry as a whole, or the sanity of the viewers, even? Why this vehemence:

“Too in-depth man, too in-depth, puffing, driving, the sex act, the sex act, fingers being chopped. Kcuf, kcuf.. what’s happening out here? You can’t make out, you don’t care, and you’re fed up of the affectations, the self-indulgence, and the fact that you even bothered to see this Dhumrapan Nishedh bandhi which tells you about Socrates, Plato and then goes Do be Do. I swear on Sinatra’s head. Hey, Kashy actually hears retro-music and wants us to know. Niiice.”

This is a review?

Or:

“Ayesha Takia has to stop looking plump.”

WTF? I mean WTF! This is seriously the nadir of mainstream media. This is rotten reviewing (and the fact that it gets through!). This is personal vendetta (and the fact that it gets through). This is absolute misuse of the vantage point (and the fact…). I mean I was never a fan of Khalid Mohamed, but there is harmless idiocy, and there is spite. Make no mistake about it, this isn’t idiocy.

Then there are bloggers who tout like experts calling this film demented and what not! Raised over a spoon-fed pulp of overcooked apple (with strawberry syrup as topping), it’s not totally surprising that these self-proclaimed media-readers will side with the establishment. After all that’s where they want to go, for all the talk of blogging as alternative media. It’s okay not to understand, but please for god’s sake don’t nip in bud experimental cinema that’s ahead of its time, at least in Indian context, just because you don’t understand it.

A prominent blogger in the Indian blah-go-sphere has this to say about No Smoking:

“… yes, it’s a “hatke” film but the problem here is that it is so “hatke” that audience (if any left) ka dimaag satak jayega..” (No Smoking – Injurious to Head)

So it’s okay to be hatke, but just enough hatke for every lazy layperson can understand it while munching on his/her caramel flavored popcorn. Will this all-too-powerful audience ever move a head muscle? Or are they going to be perennially happy watching ‘butts’ and supremely original stories love stories?

And like KM, there is the unnecessary jibe at Takia’s figure:

“Ayesha Takia – Someone please enroll her at the nearest gym”

WTF? I mean, WTF? Yes, I’d love to see her shed a few kilos, but surely she isn’t in this line for her figure. Knowing her potential, post Dor, this has been an easy role for her, but what’s utterly lost on most reviewers is the deliberate “unreal” acting in her role as the secretary. Enough, I’m not going to explain the movie.

No Smoking is a big milestone for Indian cinema, because it has broken the “start-middle-end” monopoly of our scripts. Sure, “Waisa Bhi Hota Hai – Part II” tried similar things, but it didn’t have half the thematic brilliance of No Smoking. It doesn’t make the audience think, beyond maybe exercising a few muscles trying to keep the different threads in mind, but not where it counts: it doesn’t make the viewer think about the larger issues. Not since the demise of the so called parallel cinema have we seen anything close to this. It’s the first metaphorical cinema in a long long time. Least we could do, is be sympathetic to it. For all the emergence of “new cinema”, if people don’t understand this movie, the future is bleak.

Ironically, Anurag Kashyap, who said in one of his blogs that “to be Howard Roark you have to first kill your family”, has made an apocalyptic film, about himself! I just hope, that he’ll have enough perseverance to swallow this bitter pill and move on. Because, if he trusts himself, I think one of these days, we’ll get one of the finest films ever made on Indian screen from this man (the only other contender, albeit strong one, on resume, is Vishal Bharadwaj). I just hope, he’ll survive till then. I’m even ready to pray to a God I don’t believe in. Anurag, hang in there. We need you.

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Plot-Theme integration: 4/5
Direction: 4.5/5
Music: 5/5 (Vishal, you rock!)
Acting: 4/5 (John Abraham: 4/5, whatever anyone says)
Vision: 5/5
Dialogs: 4.5/5
Entertainment: 5/5 (intelligent entertainment, that is)
On the whole: 4/5Some reviews that I found useful:

• http://padmajathakorereviews.blogspot.com/2007/10/no-smoking_29.html
• http://philip9876.wordpress.com/2007/11/06/no-smoking-review
• http://withoutgivingthemovieaway.com/main/reviews/review-no-smoking/
• http://full2faltu.wordpress.com/2007/10/26/no-smoking-2007/
• http://jaiarjun.blogspot.com/2007/10/anurag-kashyaps-no-smoking-and-tarsem.html

Watch it, and judge for yourself. Don’t let the media-savants tell you what’s Good cinema and what’s not. At most you’ll blow up 80 bucks and two hours.

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Spoilers and random thoughts ahead (will add to this space):On PFC, someone asked: “For eg. How does the ” eunuch throwing coins at John as he awaits a signal” fit in ?”It’s very interesting, when K says he hasn’t got change, the eunuch says he has it and throws it at him saying “kaam aayega”. In the end, K never uses that change (remember 1 rupee cash payment he never did?). Is the change common sense/symbol for conformism? Is the change surrender of the ego? Afterall K never pays a single penny by his volition. He never “chooses” to leave smoking, he just thinks about it. Those who have paid the “bills”, or the change, are exempt from the final wash (out). Of course, that’s my interpretation, but that’s the beauty of this film.