Red Salute Blogfest: Thalappavu.

I meant to post about this film on May 1st, to kick off Red Salute Blogfest, but got lazy - in fact, I've been so lazy I've still got plenty of films that I meant to review to actually see. Therefore I'm dedicating the first half of May to this thing, possibly even longer.

Thalappavu is a 2008 Malayalam drama about a real incident between a Kerala Naxalite (played by Prithviraj) and a police officer (Lal). In the 1970's, the police held a Naxalite in captivity and then arranged a 'fake encounter', essentially an extra-judicial killing, or simply put, murder. The officer who held the gun apparently knew the Naxalite (I think the officer later disclosed this at an interview). The film works in flashback, beginning from the shooting and telling, little by little, the story of these two men.

In the very few Malayalam films I've seen so far, I see a theme of flashback narratives emerging. A central device in how the story is told is constantly with-holding some information from the viewer - we find out answers to our questions, but we have to wait for them to emerge. The story here is at heart quite simple, but the narrative device keeps the audience hooked, and this really serves the film. At times, I may have struggled to follow a little - essentially, there are at least three time-lines we work in, and it can take a while to understand which one the film is at and at which point it switches. Still, it makes the film very interesting. I can't say I was ever bored, which might've happened, had the director taken a more conventional approach to telling his story.

As far as the portrayal of Naxalites go, it's very positive. Joseph (Prithviraj) is a sympathetic, smart individual, who's prone to violence but for a good cause. Contrast this with the police, who are cruel and exceptionally corrupt. The sole good cop is Raveendran Pillai, the cop who befriends Joseph, but even he can be talked into dirty deeds by the other police man. It strikes me as somewhat simplistic to portray the Naxalite in such a positive manner, but on the other hand, this man died because of a horrible, sad and undemocratic practise by the cops. Perhaps it's fitting that regardless of his crimes (which he wasn't found guilty of, because of this fake encounter) he gets a salute by the filmed version of his life.

I confess I don't know all that much about Kerala's vast Marxist history - I just know there is one, and that Marxist thinking seems fairly mainstream in the state's politics. What impact it has left on the state as a whole, I couldn't analyse. What it did made me think was the fact that the term "Naxalite" lumps in a rather vast amount of people. The 1970's Kerala Naxalites were probably different from West Bengal 1970's Naxalites, and the current crop of Naxalites is a vastly different group, as well, in terms of both composition, ideology and goals. I haven't seen enough films to know whether all of these groups are labelled more-or-less as heroes or as villains, or neither, but so far I have a sense that it's easier to portray them as anti-establishment/pro-people heroes, than as villains.

Still, I enjoyed Thalappavu, for it's clever narrative device and its lush cinematography. It didn't become an instant favourite, but I'll probably be rewatching it. Atul Kulkarni does a brilliant turn as the film's villain, Lal was very effective in his role and I didn't mind Prithviraj, either. I've watched two other Prithviraj films that I have to post about eventually, so I'll discuss him more as an actor in that post. Suffice to say at this point, he's not really a favourite of mine, which is a shame. I really wanted to like him, a lot, after the brilliance of Aiyyaa. Sadly, I've been left rather lukewarm, even based on what I think are labelled his better films. 

Trashy Sequels 2013: Race 2 and Murder 3.

I really could not tell you why I decided to watch Race 2. I'm not a film critic, I'm not getting paid to watch and write about it. I'm also not a fan of the 2008 original Race movie - in fact, I devoted my entire review of it to praising the fact that stupendously bad Hindi films are still being made, and that film being an indicator of just how bad it can get. Race 2 continues this proud tradition, but with all the updated sleekness that I assume a budget twice the size of the first Race film can afford.

Not that plot or characterization is of particular importance in this film, but let's recap a bit anyway. Saif Ali Khan is back as Ranveer, sans his Bipasha Basu as Soniya, though she makes a brief appearance in a flashback. His new rival/friend is John Abraham, an Indian mobster who loves nothing more than money. Deepika Padukone is his half-sister, developing feelings for Ranveer's smooth-talking ways (picture me rolling my eyes as I type this mess). Then there is John's girlfriend, played by Jacqueline Fernandez, who seems to know Ranveer from somewhere. Unfortunately RD, Anil Kapoor's unfunny cop character from the first film, is also back, this time with assistant Cherry, Ameesha Patel. 

The biggest problem with Race 2 is that it's actively annoying and insulting to one's intelligence and other senses. I don't think a couple of songs can be even called music - even if you're a fan of electronically altered singing voices, this amount of autotune renders every human effort into hopeless robotic noise that is not pleasurable to listen to, even in a club setting. There's some sleek action that is entirely too reliant on wire work, so much so that it stops being interesting in its defying of reality, and more just unbelievable and dragging on needlessly. In some ways, Saif is more of an uber-capable agent man in this than in last year's Agent Vinod, jumping from windows and from tops of buildings like he's Spiderman. 

Then there are the twists and the incredibly dumb dialogues we all know and dislike from the first movie. The twists once again make sure you don't really trust or care about any character. There is none of that feeling of betrayal when one character appears to be bad when you previously believed them to be a good guy. In the world of Race movies, it doesn't matter. They'll re-align themselves three times by the time the film is over, so you're better off just about following along and not caring too deeply.

It almost feels a bit silly to talk about performances in films like this, where the dialogues are an insult to whatever modicum of talent each actor on the cast has. I'm sure you've seen the best ones quoted on Twitter or in other reviews, but here's a sampling of the groanfest we've come to expect: "So hot .. I'm burning with envy." "Cherry, I don't have time to pop your cherry." "You're gonna be so dead and I'm gonna be so rich."

Ameesha Patel and Anil Kapoor's plotline is particularly painful since they have set out to ruin fruit as a healthy snack for everybody who enjoys an apple or a banana every now and then. Who thought this was a good idea? 

But perhaps the most horrible thing about Race 2 is that it's simply so goddamn boring. It aims to cater to the most base needs of the audience - some violence, some twists, some bare skin (of both sexes) - and fails entirely to actually entertain. It's not so bad it's good, or fun to watch to cackle at the horridness. It's just dull and irritating. 

Murder 3, in true Bhatt sequel fashion, seems to have nothing to do with the first two movies, other than the confused title. It is also a very trashy sequel, but manages to at the very least be interesting in its utter stupidity. There is just one twist here, and it's silly as all hell, but it's the type of twist that makes sure you want to see the conclusion to it, no matter how inane.

Vikram (Randeep Hooda on a bad hair day) is mourning over the disappearance of his girlfriend Roshni (Aditi Rao Hydari) by getting heavily drunk. The girl who works at the watering hole he visits, Nisha (newcomer Sara Loren), takes him home one night because he's not in shape to drive himself home, and the two eventually begin a relationship. There is something strange about Vikram's house, however, Nisha soon discovers, and what ever did happen to Roshni, anyway?

Randeep Hooda (who is on a seriously, seriously bad hair day, and I cannot emphasise enough how much this diminishes my enjoyment of the movie) has the odd talent of portraying guys who just seem off in a way, which lends the first half of the movie a strange atmosphere. It feels like every warning bell in Nisha's head should go off, but apparently this guy who lives alone in a house far away from the city, with a girlfriend who's mysteriously vanished into thin air, is just dreamy enough to have sex with (yes, there are sex scenes, in a film from the Bhatt house - I'm as shocked as you are!). Or maybe Nisha's character is written as pointlessly stupid, only possessing a brain when the script wants her to have one.  

The only shining moments for Randeep (on a continuous, very, very bad hair day) are the scenes where he gets to play drunk, as he does quite a good job of it. Sara Loren is merely okay - she opts for under-acting instead of over-acting, which fools you into thinking she's quite capable, but in reality all she has to do is this blank frown of horror at various noises. It's not great acting.

As such, the film belongs to Aditi Rao Hydari, who I really enjoyed in London Paris New York (even if I didn't love the film itself). Her acting can be over-the-top at times, and her character is written as not precisely the sharpest pen in the pencil case, but at least she tries to spin this ridiculousness into a believable direction, and somewhat manages it.

The post-interval twist creates quite an intriguing dramatic circumstance, that made me actually interested in how the film was going to end. It's completely unbelievable and silly, of course, but in a way that kept me hooked until the end, and a part of that was Aditi's better-than-the-film performance. There's another twist the film could've taken, but opts out of, which proves that ultimately films like these are just absolutely horrible to women, and to the female characters they portray. I almost want to discuss spoilers with regards to this film - where it could've gone, and where it opted to go. 

Still, the amazing thing about watching this film after sitting through Race 2, is that it seems like a masterpiece of thrilling cinematic story-telling in comparison. I realise it is not - it's a stupid thriller that spins a plot to allow for some "bold" and "daring" sex scenes to be in there, while remaking (officially - to give them credit) a Colombian thriller called The Hidden Face. It does not deconstruct love, the claim made by producer Mukesh Bhatt, as there isn't a tale of love told here - at least not believably enough to count. I'm not sure who I'd recommend this film to. Probably no one - it's a film, it exists, you can watch it, but I'm not entirely sure why you would. Aditi Rao Hydari is good but not that good, and there isn't enough Randeep Hooda goodness here to sate a fangirl of his. Maybe give the Colombian original a spin instead?

Red Salute Blogfest: Watch a film about Naxalites and blog about it in May!

Naxalites are hardline leftist, Maoist activists, terrorists or freedom fighters (depending on your point of view) fighting an insurgency against the Indian state. The movement began in West Bengal in the late 1960's but is currently mostly fought in the jungled areas of states of Jharkand and Chhattisgarh.

I've been fascinated by the cinematic representations of these Maoists ever since I first learned about them, and therefore sought out tons of movies that portray Naxalites. In some ways the Naxalites are a contentious topic; some see them as fighting for the rights of the underprivileged, such as the tribal (adivasi) people living in the areas where they're engaged in conflict, while others see them as taking advantage of these people in order to advance their own political agenda. To some they are just criminals and terrorists, to others they're concerned citizens, being angered enough to take up arms against the state. The truth may be a mixture of both of these points of view.

I figured I might as well not watch them on my own but make a blogfest out of it, so here's how it'll work:


1. Watch a film that portrays the Naxalites. 

I'll include a list of films in this post, with notes on the films I own and will be blogging about myself. There are quite a bit of these films, in various Indian languages so if Hindi films aren't your thing, you can watch a film in Bengali or Malayalam, for example. There might be films that I'm not aware of and therefore can't list here, so if you find a film that touches on the subject but isn't listed, feel free to watch it!


2. Blog about it during the first two weeks of May!

 You don't have to discuss the representation of the Naxalites in the film, it can just be a standard review like you would normally do. You may also review multiple films, films you've already seen, or about the topic more generally, or do whatever you normally do on your blog.


3. Link me to it, either by commenting here or tweeting @veraciously about it! 

I'll read it, and collect all the blog post links into a single post by the end of the whole shebang. I expect I'll probably make around 7-10 posts with my own film reviews.



The List (in completely random order, possibly incomplete)


Pratidwandi (Bengali) This film is probably the oldest film about Naxalite, coming out when the initial movement was still happening in West Bengal. It's directed by Satyajit Ray.  

Chakravyuh (Hindi)

Thalappavu (Malayalam)

Red Alert: The War Within (Hindi)

Chamku (Hindi)

Hazaroon Khwaishin Aisi (Hindi)

Ko (Tamil) Barely features Naxalites but it's a good film so it's worth a recommendation!

Hazaroon Chaurasi Ki Maa (Hindi)


Veerappa Nayaka (Kannada)

Laal Salaam (Hindi)

The Naxalites (Hindi)

Aranyakam (Malayalam)


Some of these may be difficult or even impossible to find! I've searched far and wide for the "The Naxalites", for example, and a DVD of Laal Salaam seems equally hard to get my hands on. Regardless, there are some very recent examples, such as Chakravyuh, Thalappavu (which is based on historical events) and Red Alert, which should be more widely available. A lot of these are also critical favourites (Hazaroon Chaurasi Ki Maa, for example), so should make for good viewing based on just that. I own the first 8 films from the list, and plan on reviewing them during the first weeks of May!

So join me, why don't you? 

Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola: pink buffalo politics.

There's no way around this fact: Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola is a strange film. However, its oddities are in the end rather scarce, so what you have is a fairly fun, thoroughly musical political satire, taking place in the fictional village of Mandola in Haryana, interspersed with moments that just trip up the viewer a little. It's a good film, but it's also the kind that I can imagine leaving some a bit puzzled, some a bit frustrated, and others overjoyed with what they just witnessed. 

The story is relevant to the modern political realities in India today; the farmers of Mandola are getting communist propaganda briefings from a person calling themselves only 'Mao', encouraging the peasants to rise against the drunkard landowner Mandola (Pankaj Kapur), who is being charmed by the cunning politician (Shabana Azmi) to set up a Special Economic Zone near the village. The servant Matru (Imran Khan) is supposed to keep Mandola away from booze, a task he fails at more than he succeeds, and meanwhile Mandola's daughter Bijlee (Anushka Sharma) lives a care-free existence, under nobody's rule. 

There's a lot to bite into here, and perhaps one central failing of the satire is that it allows itself some silly flourishes without delving too deep into some of the themes it could explore more. Mind you, this is India, and the Censor Board affects the way every story we get is told - it's hard to say what might've changed from the director's original vision. There is also the fact that Bhardwaj is typically at his best when adapting other people's material - from the Shakespeare adaptations to 7 Khoon Maaf, originally a novel. Kaminey was all his, but also played within a genre (underworld thriller) that Bhardwaj knows like he knows how to compose beautiful tunes for his wife Rekha Bhardwaj to sing. 

I find myself not being too sure what MKBKM is going for at times. There are portions of it that are clear-cut political satire and criticisms of modern Indian society, where the criminal politicians (who are a-plenty) take land away from poor farmers to start up big development projects that benefit mainly the already well-off classes. Then there is the depiction of Mandola's alcoholism - both comical and tragicomical at once, and about as gruesome a portrait as the anti-smoking campaign ads Indian films now seem to have tacked onto their beginnings. The pink buffalo is just one of the little oddities that the film throws into the mix, but its greater meaning is never quite clear.

Perhaps one problem is just the fact that Bhardwaj is not exactly at home in the comedy genre. There are funny moments in this film, just as a lot of his other films, but it's not exactly laugh-out-loud funny. Nor do I think it should be, but the fact it really seems to go for it, attempting to get those chuckles, kind of makes me wonder. I also don't know what to make of the African Zulu musician-dancers. Their first appearance has a definite reason from the script, and they pretty quickly align themselves with the plight of the villagers (perhaps signalling some sort of solidarity between their own conditions at home). They're never given a speaking part, or much of a character, so they stand as this strange reminder of one strand of plot - an excess of comedy, perhaps - that I personally didn't really know what to do with. I couldn't condemn it, but nor could I justify it entirely in my head.

This is perhaps sounding a bit too negative, considering how much I actually liked the film. It's filled with things small and big that I generally enjoy. Vishal Bhardwaj plays the tune of my heart, and so his music always underscores the mood of his films beautifully. The soundtrack is as strange as the film, but it's also wonderful, catchy and infectiously enjoyable. The acting is also all-around great. Pankaj Kapur's character Mandola is written to be a show-stealer, so it's no surprise he does just that, and crafts a strange relationship between him and Shabana Azmi's politician character Chaudhari Devi, who's amusing in her megalomaniac manipulative nature. I really fell in love with Anushka's rebel-finding-a-cause Bijlee, even though it doesn't seem like she gets that much scope in the story - it could just be that I like Anushka Sharma, period.

Imran Khan is one of those guys I've been perpetually lukewarm towards. I like him, I've just never had a reason to like him for than that faintly positive tolerance I have of him. Matru probably had the makings of a career-defining performance, but since Mandola ends up being the undeniable main character, Matru ends up playing second fiddle and so does Imran. He acts well, though, so much so that I finally began to warm up to him. Him and Anushka share fairly easy chemistry and their love story forms one of the best parts of the film.

How does Matru rate among Bhardwaj's excellent filmography? The lower half, for sure, but only because his other work is just so stellar. I'm loathe to use the word quirky, but that's what the film is - its quirkiness forms about half of its charm, but also contributes to a rather uneven narrative. I also have a feeling I may be pre-judging the film, as any political satire that plays with as many themes as the film should probably be viewed a few times before passing final judgment.

It could be that despite feeling a bit uneven, Matru is precisely the film it wants to be - with all those little oddities in there, all those comedy flourishes, and the portrayal of alcoholism just as goofy-serious as it's meant to be. If so, I feel like I need to digest this one a bit more. If not, and this is just Bhardwaj-sahib trying something new, and not really knowing what to do in the new genre, then perhaps we would do well to send him a good novel we'd like to see adapted. As ever, even Bhardwaj on a bad day is better than most other directors on a bad day. Ultimately, Matru is very much worth seeing.

Talaash: when is a slow reveal too slow?

Had it been released any other year, Talaash would've probably been the best film of the year. Lucky for us the audience, the year was 2012, which gave us another excellent Hindi mystery thriller, Kahaani. It's difficult not to talk about the two films in conjunction with one another, as they both involve an urban setting, a main character trying to piece together what seems like an unsolvable mystery, a plot twist and attempt to hood-wink the audience into not seeing that twist coming. They're also both films you're best knowing the most minimal amount of premise, going in.

So here's what I'll say about the plot - things you can piece together from the first trailers, which hit the internet about a year ago: a man drives off into the sea on an entire empty road, for no apparent reason. A police man (Aamir Khan) tries to piece together what happened, while growing distant from his wife (Rani Mukherjee) and running into the lady of the night, Rosie (Kareena Kapoor), who helps him try to solve the mystery.

I will try to discuss the film without revealing spoilers, but you're very sensitive to this sort of thing (I know I am!), you may want to stop reading now.

Talaash is a finely made movie with competent direction, littered with strong performances (from the heart-wrenching one from Rani Mukherjee to the crooked yet sympathetic character portrayed by Nawazuddin Siddiqui). It's definitely a step up from Reema Kagti's debut, Honeymoon Tavels Pvt Ltd, which was adorable but not too ambitious. As such, it's hard to phrase why the film doesn't really make it into my favourites. It's got so many things going for it, from the performances to the themes it portrays (which I cannot really discuss without going into spoilers), to the excellent cinematography. Going into it, I didn't know much, but I was expecting a lot - that's what tends to happen when three of one's favourites are shoved into the same film, with a promising premise. I'm not quite sure if the film delivered on all the things I really wanted it to.

I suppose one factor was the relatively slow pace of the middle third of the film. As a viewer, you're trying to put together the same mystery Aamir's Surjan is attempting to solve, but coming up with very little. I wasn't really at my sharpest when watching, so perhaps I could've seen the twist coming, had I concentrated a little more, but by the time the film got to its half-way mark, I found myself as frustrated as Surjan seemed to be. Things just weren't adding up in a satisfying manner, and the film began to feel a bit boring. I was fine with the twist, when it arrived - it seemed strangely fitting, and I didn't mind the aspect it added to the film. I figured it out, I suspect, exactly at the moment the director wanted me to figure it out, considerably before Surjan does, but not so early as to ruin the discovery.

So what I was left with was "just" a good film. When put up next to the crop of other good films, Talaash definitely stands out as a good film, but not so overwhelmingly strong that I'd say I loved it. I also wasn't so personally moved by as to call it a favourite. But worth seeing, especially if you like any of the three big stars in the main cast? Absolutely. 

Standards, reactions and film criticism.

I'll be honest: this is going to be one of those absolutely painfully self-indulgent posts about the nature of film criticism from somebody who doesn't even do this for a living. Does the world need another pensive post from a blogger about what they occasionally do to fill the hours of the day? Probably not. And yet, I am writing it.

Look at Rani Mukherji smiling. At least this post has that going for it.

The reason I'm writing about the subject is not even because an Indian film inspired it in me. Post-Oscars, I got the sudden inspiration to actually watch some nominated and awarded films (which I rarely do, as so few Oscar contenders interest me). One of the films I went to see was Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master, which I found, simply put, brilliant. The film has some excellent performances, a simple narrative that seems to hide a lot from the viewer, beautiful cinematography and interesting subtextual themes. It made me pause a bit, reflect on what I'd just seen, recall certain scenes and then try to piece together their significance as a whole. It's that kind of film, and some people will find it difficult to understand, frustrating even, and some fans of the film will dismiss these criticisms as people just not "getting it" or not taking the time to rewatch the film and allow it to sink in properly.

These discussions caused one film writer to ask: Should some films be taken more seriously than others?

My first reaction is to say no, but then to immediately say yes. Arguably, all films should be judged by their own standards - a comedy has to make you laugh, or it's not a very successful comedy, and a romantic film ideally has you rooting for the leads to get together. A documentary provides you with new information, or portrays old information in an interesting manner, and hopefully makes you think, to boot. On the other hand, all films will be judged by your own  standards as a viewer. The best thing a film critic can do is write about a film in such descriptive terms that you can take away two things from their writing: what their standards for this film were, and how that film met those standards. More simply put - whether they liked it, in relation to what kinds of films they typically like.

So if a film makes you to pause and reflect at length on what you just saw, perhaps even rewatch, it's only fair to that reaction that you do so. If a film goes down without much pondering, regardless of how you feel about it, I don't think it's strictly necessary to over-ponder a film that doesn't inspire such a thing naturally.

This is not necessarily a split between films from interesting, respected film makers who make thoughtful cinema, and potboiler mass-entertainment films. The problems come in when people's prejudices make it so - when a critic thinks an arthouse film is worth pondering over, but an action film could never be, even if it touches on interesting themes. But film criticism is a fairly simple sport, as all it really has to contain is a certain honesty about your own reactions when it comes to a particular film.

I like to think that I can analyse films as I see fit, regardless of whether they are "meant" to be taken seriously or not. I've discussed each Upendra-directed film I've seen like it was an academic thesis, with points and arguments and explanations - while realising that these are still films made for the masses in mind. I thought a lot about Laal Patthar, even though the film was not particularly deep or even nuanced. Once I vented about my frustrations regarding a Malayalam art film - I could see it was good, but it wasn't for me in terms of the story or the characters, and I didn't catch the significance of the director's choices, nor did I think I would upon a second viewing.

To me, it doesn't really matter if you "get" a film or not, what matters if whether you like it or not. I don't know if I understood The Master, but I knew I liked it a lot. I liked it as I as watching it, I liked the performances and found the characters fascinating, I liked the soundscape and the visuals, and I loved pondering my own interpretations of the film. That's my honest reaction - whether my take on the film is wrong or right, doesn't really factor into my enjoyment of the film as a film.

Road, Movie (2010, directed by Dev Benegal and starring Abhay Deol) comes to mind. This was a small film that I remember a lot of people reacting to in a pretty negative way, finding it beautifully shot, but ultimately rather pointless. I liked it fine, but it wasn't a passionate, enthusiastic sort of like, but the lukewarm type - I didn't feel like I'd wasted my time with with it, but neither did I walk away from it feeling like I'd witnessed something magnificent. At times I do feel like I need to rewatch it, but other times I don't really think there was that much there to miss out on, so perhaps my reaction to it would be the same as last time. I don't think anybody absolutely has to give a film another chance, if it fails to impress the first time. If a reaction is not intrigue or a desire to look into it deeper, then why force it?

It's the strange nature of film-watching. Films can have enormous personal significance, or inspire a person to do something they normally wouldn't have. Films can say things about nations and cultures and points in time, or they can say not much at all. I don't think there's a right way or a wrong way to react to cinema - perhaps Jism 2 really does provide some commentary on the sexual politics of modern India, or perhaps it's just a flick with tons of skin shown. What you see in it, is what's there for you.

I remember being called out on liking a certain, "trashy", entertainment-geared fare in Indian cinema but not the same thing, coming from Hollywood. I admit to this criticism, but I would also counter - isn't this what everybody does? You can't have the same standard to every film, unless that standard is your own enjoyment of a film. So Avatar didn't inspire much thrills in me, but Dabangg did. That's my truth - feel free to share yours. 

This old chestnut: SRK on Hollywood.

I was reading SRK's reflections (see that picture? Get it? I'm too clever, honestly) on the state of Hindi cinema and the discussions it brought out in people on GetFilmy's excellent post about it, and decided to make my own post, as I have a lot of thoughts on the topic. Here's a link to the Forbes article, but I wanted to give credit to GetFilmy for bringing it to my attention.

In a way, I honestly believe that these comments have more to do with where Shahrukh Khan is at, than where Indian film is at right now. His films as of late have been successes, but they haven't been the kind of successes he probably hoped they'd be, and they certainly haven't punched through as films people would love to re-visit time and time again. His name brings people to the theater, but hardly anybody is going back for a second viewing, much less a third.

But, as more people flock to cinemas, Hollywood’s finesse will eventually win them over. India may make the most movies in the world, but “With all due respect, the production values are s***. Why will my kids watch that kind of crap when Hollywood offers something slicker?”

As far as arguments go, this is not precisely the strongest. Anecdotal evidence based on your kids? Look, dude, I get it. You're a self-made guy who made their career and fortunes through Hindi films, and now you see that your kids are growing up in a different world than you, so they'll prefer different things - and this is a new discovery for you, perhaps. But you just cannot extrapolate all that to include every child in India, every adult in India or every Indian abroad.

Here's what I've learned about Indian audiences and their love for Hollywood films - people like spectacle. People everywhere like spectacle. Finnish people will go see Avatar in huge numbers, as will Americans, as will Brits, Germans, Koreans and people all over the world. Spectacle is one of those things that no other format than film can provide quite like film, so of course flashy, big budget entertainers will draw in people, just for the novelty of it all.

Like GetFilmy pointed out, Bollywood is not suffering. Content is becoming better, genres are getting more diverse, we get tons of films breaking the 100 crore mark, which used to be a fanciful dream for producers, we have new stars and old stars having the kind of success they've never enjoyed before.

Even more importantly, films aren't just entertainment - entertainment forms a part of people's lived experience, and through that, shapes identities and in some ways, a national and cultural identity. This is why DDLJ spoke to NRI's, and people still listen to HAHK songs, or quote Sholay, or whatever have you. And because Indian films are intrinsically Indian, they will never cease to have that sort of significance in some people's lives. This is not to say that if you are an Indian person who prefers American or French or Iranian films to those of your own country, you're somehow less Indian - that's not what I mean at all (after all, I'm not less Finnish for not liking Finnish films much). It's just that to some people, this part of the culture is very important.

A bad Hindi film might not entertain anybody better just because they have a cultural connection to it, but I don't think people who are as passionate about their own films as Indian audiences can be will ever just abandon it because the visual special effects aren't as flashy as something Peter Jackson or Christopher Nolan can conjure up. That's pretty simplistic thinking on Shahrukh's part. Production value is not the only thing people go see in films - it's certainly what some people look for, perhaps even to the detriment of their own enjoyment of less flashy films (be it indie, arthouse, low budget).

They spend more on pop corn, samosas and fizzy drinks than on the tickets.

Newsflash - this has been the case in the West forever. Even before the advent of illegal digital downloads and all the things driving up ticket prices in North America and Europe. This also seems to mostly look at multiplexes. People see films in other sorts of film theatres as well, don't they?

I'm not a businesswoman, so I'm not one to criticize Shahrukh's moves in the business world - it's his company, he can run it as he likes. But I also think it's shortsighted of him to just think about visual effects, flashy spectacles and all this other stuff that Hollywood will probably make better than Hindi films do, most of the time, simply because of the fact that Hollywood has been doing this stuff for aeons. Indian films should push themselves technically, for sure, and I'm all for that - Eega was a good example. But no film would be anything without actually being good - good acting, good music, good stories. To say Hollywood is going to take over is based on almost no evidence at all - in fact, Hollywood is itself in crisis because its age-old business formula is losing in the world of online streaming and targeted marketing. Bollywood is going through changes as well, but it's not failing.

I don't mean to harp on the man's personal career graph too much, but I do strongly feel that had his latest film been his Dabangg or Three Idiots, he wouldn't be saying stuff like this. Come back to us, Shahrukh - make a damn good movie that rides on both the content (a good story, solid direction, great songs) and your star power. Jab Tak Hai Jaan probably should've been just that, but wasn't. Nevermind.

Come back to us.

22 Female Kottayam - a conversation starter.

22 Female Kottayam, a Malayalam revenge film from last year, is an unsettling watch. It takes explicitly admitted inspiration from other female revenge films of yesteryear, such as Kill Bill and Ek Hasina Thi, but pushes the concept a tiny bit further. 

As such, both the film and this spoilerous review have to be warned for discussion of rape, violence and sexual abuse. If you don't feel like you can stomach it, I won't be offended if you click away now.

Let's proceed. 

If I was just to talk about the film as a film, without taking into consideration all the things that affected my viewing of it - which I will shortly get to - I'd say this: Rima Kallingal does a splendid job as the lead, as do the other actors in the film. The narrative jumps, that seem to be quite common in modern Malayalam cinema, based on my little experience of it so far, work well and the pace never lets up. The cinematography is beautiful but grounded, and while I didn't feel that all the songs featured were necessary, they were enjoyable in the mix. 

As recent events brought the topic of rape into a national conversation in India (and subsequently elsewhere, as people in other corners of the globe rushed to point out to people that rape was far from being just an Indian problem), I feel as if I have to discuss the film through the lens of its rape depiction. How we talk about rape matters, especially when the conversation quite often contains widely-perpetuated myths about this crime. 

The first myth is that rape only happens to lone women who are out late and get attacked by strangers. This is not the case in the film. Tessa is raped by somebody she knows, and trusts, though he is not a family member or a close friend. 

The actual depiction of the rape is uncomfortable and unsettling, putting the audience in the position of Tessa. As rape tends to be a gendered crime, with women more often than victims than perpetrators, it's obvious that it will hit home more for some viewers than others. Regardless, it's a punch in the gut - there is nothing sexualized, romanticized or sanitized about the scene. It's as ugly, painful and brutal as the crime is. 

The second rape myth is that rape is about sex. We see this unfortunate myth somewhat tied to the rape in 22FK - the rapist asks Tessa to have sex with him, with the clear indication that he is not taking 'no' for an answer. Later on, in her revenge, Tessa performs an act designed to remove virility from her boyfriend who schemed against her. Let's just make this clear: rape is about power and domination. It's about using your power to take advantage and abuse somebody else. Whatever sexual excitement the rapist feels during the act comes through this abuse of power, the use of somebody weaker than them against the victim's will. This was my biggest problem with the film. Since an impotent person can rape, as penetration doesn't have to happen through a sexual organ, the revenge Tessa takes on her ex-boyfriend is questionable. On the other hand, he betrayed her trust but didn't physically abuse her himself - though what he did was just as sickening, to be honest.

The third rape myth is that rape can be the fault of the victim. This is sadly probably the most common myth, seen perpetuated by people in the media and others in daily conversations about rape survivors (or victims), in the case of the Delhi bus gang rape and others. Discussions about the clothing and behaviour of the victim feed the myth, and are essentially ways of limiting women and their choices in life - don't go there, don't wear that, don't do this or you're "inviting" rape. The fault of every crime, however, is on the perpetrator. They make the decision to abuse somebody, they do the crime and therefore the fault is theirs and theirs only. Since rape is primarily about power, they will obviously take advantage of somebody who they see as weaker, and that person may be drunk or asleep or alone, but there isn't a single situation where having sex with somebody who doesn't want it (or who is not in the position to want it, such as being heavily intoxicated) is okay. It's always rape, and rape is a crime. Thankfully the film does not perpetuate this vicious myth, though I don't see how it could - the narrative of "she deserved it" has no place in a film that puts the agency of the heroine first.

However, as it stands, 22FK really made me ponder my general stance on female revenge films that deal with rape, and how my position has shifted over the years. Ek Hasina Thi definitely remains a favourite of mine, but in Sarika was not sexually abused, she was just taken advantage of in an extreme way. In EHT, the revenge is definitely cathartic and desired by the viewer. In Kill Bill  the crime is horrifying but not rape and the film's obvious inspiration, the Japanese film Lady Snowblood (Shurayukihime), has the heroine revenge the rape and murder of her mother, not herself. I guess the crux of the problem is that rape becomes a plot device that pushes the heroine to go to extreme lengths to get her revenge. This is why I Spit On Your Grave, the original of the genre of rape revenge films, has a very questionable position - there can be something cathartic about showing a rape survivor take revenge on her rapists, but it's also messed up that the female lead has to suffer through this horrible crime in order to get that agency in the film.

On the other hand, I feel that if you put your central female character through the amount of injustice that these films contain, it only makes sense to have them bring a world of pain onto those who have wronged her (while it's not the way I'd sort things out in real life, in the fictional world it makes thematic sense). This is why I wish Ishaqzaade had taken a drastically different turn on the second half. So I guess my position is that if you must portray these sorts of stories, then it's good that the female characters get to avenge whatever wrongs they've endured - much like many male characters get in other revenge tales. However, it would also be good if for once, the female character didn't personally have to suffer so much in order to play this part in a film - especially such a personal violation as rape.

22 Female Kottayam is a good film, but it's not one I'd easily recommend, or rewatch myself. It contains some good performances, a realistic portrayal of a heavy subject matter, and a somewhat cathartic conclusion in terms of the revenge, but I'm not sure it offers anything so new or in such a novel way that it would be a must-see for everybody. It definitely fits a certain genre, and there are films that aren't quite as unsettling or as partly problematic as this one. Therefore I have pretty ambivalent feelings about it - I'm glad I saw it, but I'm not sure I'd have missed out on a lot, had I not seen it. 

Charulata: the quiet craft.

The most stubborn person I know once told me I was the most stubborn person she knew. I'll admit to it - I am incredibly stubborn, particularly when it comes to the media I consume. I refuse to believe in the concept of classics being films you absolutely must watch, this idea that if you don't plough through them, you're uneducated as a viewer. I think classics are influential films, but that doesn't mean one has to sit through them just because they are classics - rather, I adamantly only watch films when I'm interested in them, regardless of their status or influence on later films. 

It was because of this stubborn attitude that I didn't watch a single Satyajit Ray film until I wanted to. At heart, I am a populist - I will watch something loud and outrageous before I'll watch anything quiet and contemplative, even though I respect the latter style of film-making enormously. But luckily things took a turn when Beth began obsessing over old Bengali films. I got curious, and from that curiosity an honest interest was born.

So I watched Charulata, the 1964 Satyajit Ray film based on a novel of another Bengali cultural giant, Rabindra Tagore.  

The film's international title, "The Lonely Wife" pretty much captures the plot. Charu (Madhabi Mukherjee) is the wife of busy newspaper man Bhupati (Shaileen Mukherjee) who submerges herself in the world of Bengali novels. Bhupati arranges his cousin Amal (Soumitra Chatterjee) to live with them and keep Charu company, and get her to foster her talents in writing. 

Amal and Charu's relationship develops in a very subtle manner, and Ray's style gives a lot of potent, metaphorical visual themes, like the cage-like bars on the windows. As a very irregular viewer of this type of cinema, I appreciated the fact the film felt very accessible - I did not need to read three brick-heavy books on Bengal society, history or gender relations to catch what was happening on the screen. It was all clearly there for me to view and interpret. 

The performances were all-around solid. Madhabi Mukherjee carries the film with ease - we watch Charu figure herself out and understand her own emotions just in time to realise there isn't a way to go back. Soumitra Chatterjee was good as well, but there is slightly less to say about his character, really. Amal arrives practically bouncing with infectious energy, but leaves almost on a mysterious note - I wondered whether I actually knew the character, or his inner workings at all. 

I could draw a parallel between my own stubborn nature and that of Charu - she too seems to do what she wants precisely how and when she wants to - but that might be a little too forced. The film didn't make my favourites, but it made sure I'll be checking out more of Ray and more old Bengali cinema.

Regardless, if you're like me and looking for a film to begin your journey into Ray's filmography or the Bengali cinema in general, this is a good place to start. It's gorgeous to watch as it is a thoughtfully crafted piece of cinema. 

Mini-reviews, part 10.

Once upon a time in the land of lazy blogging, long long ago, I drew up a list of every Indian film I'd watched up until that point (the overall sum came just under 200 those days), randomized it and started posting "mini reviews", short reviews on what I thought of each film, in batches of ten.

This is the tenth installment in the series. Enjoy!

91. Johny Mera Naam (1970) - I watched this Vijay Anand thriller quite early in my Hema loving days, and I don't quite recall what my problems with it were, to be honest. Perhaps it's that I'm just not that in love with Dev Anand as an actor, but I do recall enjoying the cute songs and Hema of course. Time for a rewatch? Possibly.


92. Singh Is Kinng (2008) - Remember when Akshay was the box office king? This was then. I enjoyed it, being down with a cold while watching and all, because as inane as SIK, there was something about the Akki-Kat jodi and I still think fondly of the hilarious climax scene (I won't spoil it, but it's action-packed, it's romantic, and it's just fun).

93. Jhumroo (1961) - My CD of Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi had the soundtrack of Jhumroo as well, so I had to watch it after falling in love with the songs. It was okay, but Chalti and Half-ticket are definitely the more recommendable Madhubala-Kishore comedies of their time.

94. Indra (2002) - My first taste of Chiranjeevi, the king of Telugu cinema. I was not in love, but neither did I dislike the film. It's a perfectly passable, fun Southie masala. I blogged about it at length here.

95. Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India (2001) - Wonderful memorable classic. Makes cricket seem interesting even if you know nothing about it. I love it, though I always forget how much, until I rewatch it again.

96. Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (1958) - Charming oldie comedy where Ashok Kumar inforces a "no girls allowed" rule to a car repair shop, Kishore Kumar goofily breaks this rule by cavorting with the stunning Madhubala, and many memorable tunes are sung. Gem!

97. Lage Raho Munna Bhai (2006) - Gandhigiri for the new generation; feel-good classic with the second outing of Sanjay Dutt as the nation's most beloved goonda. Get well soon, corrupt politicians and the like. If you missed this one, watch it, watch it now.

98. Lal Patthar (1971) - Hema Malini's own favourite out of all of her roles. I found it interesting, but loathed the treatment of Raj Kumaar's character and all that he is forgiven for. I blogged about it at length here.

99. Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003) - I used to like this film a lot, as it was cute and my introduction to  Saif Ali Khan. Nowadays, well.. not so much.

 100. Love Ke Liye Kuch Bhi Karega (2001) - This is the little comedy that could. Fardeen Khan, Aftab Shivdasani, Sonali Bendre, Twinkle Khanna and Saif Ali Khan star in this slightly off-beat situational comedy that rather won me over when I first watched it in the middle of my worst Saif enthusiasm. Check it out if you're curious but be warned, I'm not entirely sure how well it holds up. I do recall Johnny Lever being exceptionally good in this, and actually funny!