When you write a negative review, there is almost always backlash. Most of you who have read me before do thus realise I'm not the most popular man in Bollywoodland -- to say nothing of Rediff's messageboards -- and there are filmmakers who loathe me, having taken a review too personally.
Anyway, last week I wrote a column about Anurag Kashyap and his No Smoking, and while it was uncomplementary to the extreme, Anurag's a buddy and the only backlash that followed was much wildness and revelry on Saturday night.
Bear with me. The only reason I'm actually blogging about a night out, though, is because it's too good to let slip. And because I threatened Anurag that I would totally demolish his street-cred :D Yup, forward this to all your PassionForCinema.com friends, for sure.
Because, ladies and gents, thanks to loud music, alcohol and a very attractive ladyfriend, yours truly managed to conjure up the bizarre moment of (hold your breath) Anurag Kashyap dancing to the Saawariya theme song!
Muahahahahaha.Madness, such glorious madness.
Indeed, gasp.
I'm just sorry my cellphone battery gave way and I can't provide a fuzzy MMS to laugh over. Still, this is quite the revelation, don't you think? Now if only SLB danced to Phoonk De.
We've all worn white, flown dashboard tirangas and wished India -- and Saleem Sinai -- a Happy 60th.
It's just that the Bharatbala ads, those well-produced and seemingly endless black-and-white celebrity-stuffed variations of a slowed down Jana Gana Mana, are getting on my nerves. For all their noble intent and neat execution, I don't want to have to hop to my feet in attention while shuffling channels -- and AR Rahman, the man deservant of the maestro tag, is making an utter nincompoop of himself in them.
Why? Because the commercially-endorsed TV spots come complete with end credits, one of which reads: 'Music by AR Rahman.' Uh, what? Dude, Thiruda thiruda still rocks, but don't go around taking a music credit for the National Anthem, man. All you've done is get some sessions musicians together to play it, and that's all -- it doesn't make it *your* music.
What's next? Beethoven's Fifth, with music by Vishal-Shekhar?
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Equally, if not more, depressing was Amitabh Bachchan on one of the sensationalist news channels, waxing not-quite-so-eloquent about his favourite Indian movies of the last 60 years.
It started off okay, the legend talking up the magic of Mughal-E-Azam and rather endearing as he discussed cutting up blankets to make patchwork jackets like Shammi Kapoor in Junglee.
But then came Amitabhism, and suddenly the list turned into a roster of self-importance. The actor talked about everything from Saat Hindustani to Zanjeer to Anand to Amar Akbar Anthony to Sholay, with platitudes for his wife's work in Guddi. And while we unanimously agree that these are mega, fantastic films, blowing your own trumpet -- when we all constantly do it anyway -- is really pathetic form.
I would have liked to hear Amitabh talk about influences. Forget regional cinema, which would have been truly insightful, but it would have been nice to hear about forgotten gems or raves about Guru Dutt or Dilip Kumar, or even post-Bachchan films like DDLJ or Satya. Some mentions were indeed made of films like Lage Raho and Swades, but compared to the self-glorifying gushfests, these were two-line courtesy mentions.
Instead, Amitabh Bachchan ended his rishtey-mein-to-hum-Bollywood-ke-baap list with -- hold your breath -- Mani Ratnam's Guru. Yes, he talked on and on about how he was, as an actor, jealous of son Abhishek, and how it was Mani's best film.
It was enough to make you gag.
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60 years of India, and one would think you legends might stop short of shameless self-promotion for one weekend.
I'm not listening to Dil Se or watching The Great Gambler again till you two behave, hear?
And while we leaped aboard the bandwagon to create a super-exhaustive Spidey site, the film tragically turned out to be a dud. Still, do explore the Spider-site, it's fun and the wiki should keep you going.
As of now, onto absurdly funnier things. I can't wait for July:
An upmarket Bandra drinkery the other night saw some filmmakers launch the Indian Independent Filmmakers Worldwide, a coalition dedicated to furthering the cause of independent filmamking.
Ketan Mehta and Sudhir Mishra, apparently be hosting the event, had called on Oscar-winning costumier Bhanu Athaiya and Naseeruddin Shah to declare the IIFW open. Ketan talked about how there are as many definitions of the word independent as there are minds, stating that this was not to be a society of exclusion but rather one aiming to accept and include all sorts. Mishra, eloquent as ever, talked about reaching out to young filmmakers and offering them 'the benefit of our collective experience, for whatever it's worth.'
Naseer was amused at Sudhir describing him as 'the mascot of Indian independent cinema.' 'I would have thought I'd more likely have been called 'the traitor who left good cinema' or something,' Naseer chuckled, only half-joking. He then brought about a note of caution to the proceedings, saying that while the IIFW coalition had its heart in place, it was too premature to celebrate ('althought we'll all get drunk tonight') lest the movement dwarf the filmmakers within. 'That's what we did last time.'
Then it was time, as Shah indicated, for the directors to get plastered. But not before the thermocol. The IIFW logo is a pair of colourful palms, spreadeagled. So a big white sheet that formed the stage backdrop became recipient to coloured hands from filmmakers of all sizes. From Sudhir to Vishal Bhardwaj, from Anurag Kashyap to, well, thanks to Vaastu Shastra director Sourabh Usha Narang knowing my first short film airs on NDTV this Sunday, to yours truly. (My bright palm-prints took unlikely pride of place, rubbing thumbs with Naseer's.)
And then came the alcohol. The music began to blare, trying justifiably hard at driving away soundbyte-hunting tv cameras, and the open bar did the trick, getting filmmakers sloshed with tremendous rapidity. They needed it after a showreel that featured a bit too much Urmila Matondkar and Mangal, Mangal to qualify as representative of independent cinema. But well, blast the labels. Willing PYTs draped themselves around cutting-edge directors (you do realise there are always fringe benefits, yes?) as the item-number crowd mingled, cool as ice, with the arthouse set.
What does the IIFW promise? Or, at the very least, dream of? Narang suggests we not be as cynical, at least not while launching into the initiative. It does aim at fostering creative discussion and collaboration, and hopes to make upper-echelon filmmakers accessible to the digicam-weilding newbies. And I agree when he says its very necessary to promote a spirit of community within Bollywood directors -- much needed indeed.
True, it's a tall order. Especially for a coalition with oxymora prevalent in its very name. Not to mention fragile egos that demand heirarchy. For now, let us truly set skepticism aside and hoep that this federation -- that aims to support every Indian filmmaker and those of Indian origin abroad -- gets off the ground running.
Finally, the crowd begins to thin. Young, one-time directors grimace and open their eyes wide in a soberising attempt, to face the world outside. Others, still grooving to the rhythm of Shakira, who was in town a couple nights ago, get their Blackberrys out to make plans to elongate the night. The DJ plays the last song, the bartendes make the last round a little bit stronger, to fortify their clients -- for the road, as they say.
And in the background stands the wall-of-fame, the thermocol sheet with painted evidence of the night, with vividly coloured hands splashily printed across. Wise fingers who have been responsible for some of India's finest cinema; newer fingers still getting a grip, all fingers hoping to revolutionise cinema. And all meshed together in democratic anarchy, free of labels or heirarchy. It's admittedly quite a sight.
Let us hope the IIFW flies high, and does what it has ambitiously set out to. Else it's just a helluva hand job.
The Oscars always do this. A star's risen to superlative levels, so they must cut him down. Especially a good-looking star. It happened to Clooney last year, as all his Good Night, And Good Luck efforts merely resulted in an ill-deserved Supporting Actor win for Syriana.
This year, Leo's up for Best Actor. Not for The Departed, Scorsese's triumphant return, but for Blood Diamond.
Pardon my Clouseau-ese, but what the ^*(&^?
There's nothing special about Blood Diamond. It's a partially well-produced film that loses steam fatally in the second half -- merely being noble in theme doesn't allow you to be stereotypically exploitative and distastefully commercial. I'm not saying the film is really bad, I'm just saying I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. Just read a decent article on the diamond trade instead.
As for Leo, Blood really doesn't give him anything to do. An adventurer with an unspectacular accent, he glares angrily a couple of times, and cringeworthily meet his end, a la Jai from Sholay. Compared to his stellar work in The Departed, this nomination is a joke. Now that really is a fine job among a great cast. (Which reminds me, why isn't Damon getting any buzz at all from that film?)
Btw, an interesting profile lies here -- I wasn't aware that his first name is a result of him kicking inside his mother's stomach while she stood in front of a Da Vinci painting. Or that his dad was a comic-book dealer.
Also, Djimon Hounsou. Nobody disagrees that the man is a fine actor, evidenced in powerful work like Amistad, but Blood Diamond largely uses him for the look. Hounsou's haunted aboriginal look is compelling, but used here as a still-image to shock and push along the obvious storyline. Yes, the issue is huge. But outside of giving Hounsou ONE good and emotive scene, director Edward Zwick completely underuses him.
Of the actors in that film, if forced to pick, I'd probably go with Jennifer Connelly. (However, I did rewatch Requiem For A Dream a couple of months ago, so might just be fondly disposed towards the pretty actress.)
The surprising thing isn't people going on and on about Blood, it's them raving about the performances. Please, if you know just what made Leo's work in that challenging or special, write in.
You do realise they could have made Dhoom:2 for much less money, right? They coulda left out Abhishek, Uday and (while the Baywatch scene is priceless) Bipasha, skimped on hiring a director or a scriptwriter, and even used the same music as last time.
All that all-gloss film really needed were the clothes, and a good cinematographer focussing onlyexclusivelyintently on Hrithik Roshan.
Whoa. Talk about a scorching screen presence. Hrithik, in something more music video than film, is a sight to fiercely compelling it's hard to take eyes off him. Perfectly straight men are mesmerised by his effortless style, while women drool on at his perfectly sculpted abs. Superhero, indeed.
And it's his second mega-hit this year, both films scriptless and unashamedly, solely Hrithik-centric. Adlabs made the right call. This man for 3 years? 35 crore is nothing.
But is he a good actor? Arguably, he hasn't yet pushed himself. His films work best as sheer showcases, not actual movies. He relishes playing larger-than-life characters, and as a close friend recently committed, he wouldn't try anything remotely unsavoury.
"He wouldn't try being Langda Tyagi." Fair enough. But going by the catcalls in the theatre when he wetly dribbles a basketball, does he really need to?
Okay, so Grind House has been delayed. Again. And there might be casting issues, which is something I don't get: if Quentin Tarantino and Robert Sin City Rodriguez are going hog wild with a slasher-zombie film together, you cut your arm off to be in the film, even as a barely-visible corpse. Period.
RODRIGUEZ We're really great friends first and we just happen to make movies second. TARANTINO One of the things that's really nice about it is we're great audience members for each other's movies. RODRIGUEZ I almost just make movies now so I can see them at Quentin's house.
Rock on, bros.
Anyway, the film's now coming in 2007. All we have to drool over so far are some pretty neat images.
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But the one I really love is the one below, and while the April 2007 date is heartbreaking, this one proves it ought to be worth the wait:
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