Poochte hain wo ki Ghalib kaun hai… koi batlaye ki hum batlayein kya
December 15, 2015 1 Comment
Yesterday, I subjected myself to this movie. To survive, I tweeted throughout the movie. Rather than write a review and, in that process, hate myself again, I present to you – the storified tweets.
August 10, 2015 Leave a comment
A desolate Deepak is sitting with his friends. His friends are trying to console him. Deepak remembers Dushyant Kumar’s lines, his last conversastion with Shalu, and then screams – ee saala dard khatam kaahe nahi hota hai be. His friend says – chup ho ja be Deepak. Chup ho jao be… nahi to hum maar denge tumko, he stammers. And they all hold him close really hard. Deepak is crying hysterically. Another friend offers – abe tum humra bike lo be. Tum le ke jao… From Deepak’s silence, to his friends’ awkward cajoling, to the outburst, and to the friends again. His friends are in tears. But they are not crying. And they are crying – What. A. Scene. After a long time, I shed a tear drop during a movie scene. Not because the movie was gutwrenching. This particular scene was. It was so real that it hurt.
Masaan is so real that it hurts.
Deepak (Vicky Kaushal), a civil engineering final year student from a polytechnic college, finds his love in Shalu (Shweta Tripathy), a shayari lover, one who talks of Badr, Fazli and Ghalib. Shalu gifts him the lines from Dushyant Kumar – tu kisi rail si guzarti hai… Deepak gifts her an audio recording of their conversations along with a set of his favorite songs… gazab ka hai din dekho zara. Shalu is upper caste, whose entire family goes on annual pilgrimages like Badrinath, Kedarnath, and enjoys the food better if it is run by another Gupta ji – apne caste wale hain na, isliye. Deepak is a dom, who’s spent his entire life dealing with the dead bodies, crushing their skulls and wiping off the stench of their burning flesh from his face. Their love takes flight under the fear of the caste divide of a small town (Kashi), and finds closure on a boat ride at Allahabad.
Devi Pathak (Richa Chaddha) falls in love with Piyush at the coaching center where she teaches at. They decide to check into a hotel, only to be raided and harassed by cops shortly afterwards. Piyush commits suicide, and Devi and her father (Sanjay Mishra) finds themselves dealing with a ransom demand from the cop. Vidyadhar Pathak learns to deal with the financial and, more importantly, social setback of it, and Devi finds closure for something that her heart does not blame her for, through a railway job in the interim and a final ritual at the ghats of Allahabad.
The generational conflicts are everywhere, and so is the conflict between progressive and regressive thoughts. Vidyadhar finds her reconciliation with Devi after an initial outburst of anger. Devi closes the loop with Piyush’s parents, and then sends off Piyush in a touching moment, just as Deepak offers her “paani”. Devi wants to flee to Allahabad. Deepak wants to leave his masaan-ghat life behind. Most moments in Masaan exist without judgements. Exist like reality. Like the facebook friend request and the messages sent to Shalu before she accepts the friendship request. Or that balloon that floats through the air like a proclamation of love. Like Devi’s scroll through Piyush’s facebook photographs. Or the friends quipping – “Guptaji hain!” and reminding later on “wo upper caste hai. Jyada senti mat ho jaaana”. Like that carefully and painfully planned music player for Shalu. Like that guy in Devi’s office – seedhe pooch rahe hain. Degi kya? Or Deepak’s – wo last year strike ho gaya tha na, nahi to ab tak humara final ho chukka hota aur placement bhi. Like Sadhya ji’s – har college group mein ek intellectual gyaani type hota hai. Or Pathak ji’s “humko lag raha hai ki is mahine ho jayega”. Or Deepak’s father, in a moment of drunkenness, saying – “sab tu hi to hau”, and in that moment, summarizing the dreams and aspirations of many underprivileged who have pinned their hopes on their children’s education.
Interestingly, as the movie progresses, the concept of time is made irrelevant. When it ends, you have no idea how much time has gone by, but you can feel the amount of life that has gone by. That’s how time feels, right?
Perfect – Acting, Script, Dialogues, Cinematography,Editing and length!
Not too perfect – Ending – a little too good. I was glad that the movie was not a depressing end, but a positive fall forward. But a little too tied.
Gripe – the brother. It seemed to me that Neeraj Ghaywan (director) and Varun Grover (script) had some ideas about Deepak’s brother Sikander, but those ideas didn’t survive the editing table. Unfortunately, a conflict is shown for about a minute, and is not resolved any further. The only minute in the movie that didn’t seem to belong, as an after-thought.
Absolutely gorgeous – the soundtrack. There are three songs in the movie. Look at their placement and how much they achieve in the movie.
Overall – Go watch it. Please go and watch it. Did I say please only once? Please please go and watch it. Please.
And as a parting off thought – here are a few links –
“”Main jise odhtaa bichaata hun,
Vo ghazal aapko sunaata hun.
Ek jungal hai teri aankhon me,
Main jahaan raah bhool jaata hoon.
Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai,
Main kisi pul sa thartharaata hun.
Ek baazu ukhad gaya jub se,
aur zyaada wajan uthaata hun.”
The full version w/ annotations is here
“Ho chuki hai peer parbat si pighalni chahiye, is himalay se koi ganga nikalni chahiye”
The lines though I remember of him often – kaun kehta hai ki asmaan mein suraakh nahi ho sakta, ek pathar to tabiyat se uchaalo yaaro.
And a whole lot of other Dushyant Kumar poems
July 18, 2015 2 Comments
I think it has been forever that I got down to watch a movie on its release day. And that is not to say that I was so excited by the prospects of watching Bajrangi Bhaijaan on Day 1 that I broke the well-defined norms of parenthood. I went down to watch Baahubali (having heard people rave on and on about its scale and grandeur), and since there were no shows of Baahubali, or any other movie for that matter, I watched a significantly overpriced Bhaijaan. Overpriced has a definition here. Each ticket of PVR Gold Class was 800 bucks. Without any popcorn or cold-drink included in the ticket price. Why did I not turn back? Because I don’t do that. No, I don’t. And if I try to, the missus does not let me do that. Not when movie watching events with just the two of us have become so preciousssss.
Now, you know, I am a fan of Bhaisms. That mindless over the top drama with dialogues like “main dil mein aata hoon, samajh mein nahi” or “mujhpe ek ehsaan karna…”
The movie is about a mute girl from Pakistani who finds herself stranded in India, only to be rescued by Bajrangi Bhaijaan, urf Pavan Kumar Chaturvedi, a naïve lad from Pratapgarh, who lives in Delhi, but finds the girl in Kurukshetra. Bhaijaan promptly decides that it is his duty to take the girl back to Pakistan, against all odds, and help her unite with her parents.
Can you imagine the hand pump sized opportunities here? A Pakistan full of stereotypes, an army full of good for nothing soldiers, an occasional world-unifying-Muslim-with-a-heart-of-gold, and Bajrangi Bhaijaan going “Hulk Smash” on them? The number of grey haired preachy sermons being delivered to tikka and akshat wearing nincompoops?
It does not happen that way.
Read the rest of the review with the sarcasmometer aside.
The movie is fairly heart-warming. But for the last 15-20 minutes, its reasonably well-toned and not over the top. The kid-Bhaijaan equation is not full of melodrama. In fact, it’s lovably cute. In fact, it is this that makes the movie very very warm. It’s not a typical Salman movie. [Spoiler alert]: Salman does not bare it all this time. There is a total of 2 minutes of serious Salman kinda violence in the movie at the end of which one guy is found hanging by the electric wires of purani dilli, and a policeman in Chawra, Pakistan is seen nursing his neck and apologising for letting a jasoos escape. Few broken tables and a few broken glass doors. That’s all.
Salman tries to act this time, and not play Thalaivar. And for most of the movie, gets it right. By his sheer charm, not by his acting skills. There is something about his chemistry with Shahida (the kid, Harshaali). Their scenes together are almost perfect. Shahida, by the way, without a dialogue, is so awesomely perfect and cute in this movie that even before she is stranded in Pakistan, you start waiting for her to cheer for Pakistan Team. She is not just a cute prop. It is she who really elevates the movie to being a genuinely lovable movie. I can safely imagine quite a few tears being shed across the theatre, so heart-breaking her pain is in quite a few scenes. On second thoughts, it’s good that she does not have dialogues. Most adult script writers don’t get kiddy dialogues right. They make them either too cute or too preachy. Kareena Kapoor Khan is an unrequired prop in the movie. She provides enough support to the emotions of the movie, and her eyes still light up the best in the industry.
Nawazuddin Siddiqui. You were waiting to hear about him, right? I think Nawaz confessed in an interview somewhere that commercial movies help pay the bills better than the movies with great scripts and direction. Nawaz is spot on. He more or less always is, these days. He pulls off that “Eid mein Karachi se andruni mulkon ki” video copy. Interestingly, his character is named Chand Nawab (just as it was in the original video here). I was so hoping that they allow him to swear freely, but I guess censor board would not have liked it. In a way, he owns the screens when he is there. And he may just have the problem that Irrfan Khan had some time back. He overshadows the “superstars” too easily. The only place where he falters a bit is that last passionate appeal of his exhorting people to come support Bhaijaan. But by then, it’s all over.
The others in support – Rajesh Sharma, Sharat Saxena, Om Puri, etc. are extremely well cast and right on the money.
For a change, Salman decided to start off with a script this time. Or, maybe, Kabir Khan decided not to throw away the script in his excitement of having signed Salman for a movie which was getting an Eid release.
One of the biggest positives of the movie – it’s neither preachy nor pedantic. Mostly.
The movie has its flaws, the biggest of which is its ending, and the long standing gripe I have against the “need to conclude”. I don’t think there was a need for Shahida to get her speech. I don’t think it was important to have the army general drama about forcefully trying to prove Bajrangi a spy. I don’t think there was a need to apologetically convert a staunch Hindu Bajrangi and make him do an Allah hafiz slow-mo. More importantly, I don’t think there was a need to stretch the movie too long to accommodate all this.
The music is not much to write about. Bhar de jholi meri + Adnan Sami is the high point. Selfie le re will always be the song that you don’t confess to liking, but are bound to hear on every radio channel 15 times a day, just because it’s so popular and catchy.
Camerawork / DOP deserves some mention too. The opening shots, and some of the shots of Pakistan part of the movie (the corn truck scenes/ the sunsets, etc.) are beautifully shot. For some reason, the last shot of the movie, between the two borders, reminded me of Henna.
The movie runs much longer than I would have liked. But the charisma of Bhai is such that directors always think more is better.
In short – it’s a very decent, un-Salman movie which has done well to encash his stardom. I do have my doubts about it being a 150Cr movie though. And – “pehle pata karo ye Boo Ali kaun hai”
March 13, 2015 Leave a comment
There are many things that need to happen in the right amount for a movie like NH10 to work. And history suggests that Bollywood has a knack of screwing those many things many times over in many movies.
For instance, in a thriller, should the lead actors necessarily sing and dance around the trees? Or, in a rather dark movie, should the protagonist emerge as a larger than life person taking on some 20-goons at the same time? And beating all of them to an unrecognizable color (black/blue/white/gold)? Or, should a story that can be told in 90 minutes be told in 150+, so that the audience feels that they have got their money’s worth?
Thankfully, NH10 manages to avoid most of these pitfalls. It’s a superbly edited edge of the seat dark thriller, elevated a few notches solely by Anushka Sharma’s performance (despite her disconcertingly gone wrong lip job).
Running at an approx. 2 hours length (probably lesser), NH10 moves at a hectic pace almost all through. And not because there are too many characters and too many sub-plots (like Gnags of Wasseypur), but because, for a change, someone hired an editor who knew what editing should do to a movie.
Anushka Sharma hits this one out of the park. Make no mistake, it’s her movie. All the way. Right from having football field size cojones to put her movie in a script like this, to acting out of her Band-Baaja-Baraat-ki-saddi-dilli-wali-bubbly-kudi skin, this is her show. Meera (Anushka) is a better symbol for gender equality than Deepika Padukone’s or Twinkle Khanna’s open letters. Definitely more than Shobha De’s columns.
In a particular scene, a police inspector remarks that “ye shehar ek badhta hua bachcha hai, koodega to hai hi”. The disgust on Meera’s (Anushka) face speaks volumes about how much she has matured as an actor.
The transformation of Meera in the second half of the movie is somewhat heroic and filmy, maybe, but it isn’t a hyperbole of Salman-ian Radhey standards. Her methods, but for the one scene where she climbs the walls of a construction quarry, are more real than Vidya Balan’s last scene transformation in Kahanii. The climax seems a minute too longer and a conclusion too exaggerated, but is probably one of the most lucid and definitive conclusions I have seen in similar bollywood fare. Remember Mardaani? And how the end seemed a little too much? Even for a cop? This one doesn’t. If at all, I expect many women to want to learn driving (really well and not just a car), and working on. You know, it might come handy some day without things really having to become that bad. By the way, let’s be real here. Bollywood finds it natural to have a male actor kick 40 bad guys in a climax. How can you expect them to find credible endings for female protagonists?
Movie has a fantastic cast overall. Neil Bhoopalam is someone I have been wanting to see in a big role. Unfortunately, in this one, he looks and acts more like Rajkumar Yadav (heard he’s changed his name?). That is not bad, but that is not the Neil Bhoopalam I have come to expect from his theatre circuit performances. The villain dudes are pretty good. The cops, better. The creepy guy in Meera’s office – fits. They even have a Deepti Naval thrown in for artistic effects.
The background score is excellent. It helps maintain the tautness of the movie.
If you remember Manorama – Six Feet Under, you can see Navdeep Singh’s imprint all over again. The movie has that shadow almost all through the movie, and you’re almost always on the edge of your seat waiting for something to happen. There’s a point in the movie where Meera stops at a water tap and is splashing her face. It’s the middle of the night, and you spend almost the entire fifteen seconds wondering if something’s about to happen. I won’t throw too many spoilers like these your way.
The music is not meant to be consumed without the movie. And there isn’t much of a distraction. No song and dance sequences to take you off the main course. The mood – continuously sombre.
The movie has its share of flaws and generalizations. The good people (Meera and Arjun) are educated, drive a Fortuner, speak English, and go to swanky parties. Interestingly, they have a licensed gun. The bad people, however, are the rural folks/ honor killing kinds, drive around in a trademark Mahindra (Scorpio) vehicle, speak in colloquial Haryanvi, and watch Ramleela/Nautanki equivalents in their village for entertainment. Oh, and they kill with sickles and iron rods. Fifty Shades of Grey, not! Almost every thing is black and white. Much as the police inspector tries to explain to Meera, the obviousness of certain things is unmistakable.
Deepti Naval is a forced distortion in a movie of this genre. It’s a hat tip to our habit of trying to include every possible dimension. It would not have made any difference if Deepti Naval was replaced by an unknown person of any gender.
Some of the page 3 discussions early on in the movie seem forced. But they help establish the characters Meera and Arjun. And thankfully, not a lot of screen time is wasted on that. If I could, on hindsight, I would take out about 10 more minutes from the movie.
Overall, highly recommended movie for the week. Watch it to encourage more such movies. Watch it for Anushka.
(image courtesy – ibnlive and filmibeat)
October 14, 2014 1 Comment
Every now and then, I get these requests from agencies to promote some material on my website. Usually, as you can notice, I am averse to the idea of putting random stuff on my blog.
Last week, an agency sent out the links to some initial images, motion posters, trailers for Happy Ending (Illuminati Films’ and Eros International’s next – Directed by Raj & DK (?), starring Saif Ali Khan, Illeana D’Cruz, Govinda, Ranveer Shorey and Kalki Koechelin ). The reason I am posting it here – is not Saif or Illeana. Its Govinda!!!!!
I hope someone brings a bit of Govinda-ism back to the movies.
So, I am going to leave you with 4 things –
a) Trailer of Happy Ending
b) Motion Poster of Happy Ending
c) The 1st Poster of Happy Ending
Click to see full size
d) A priceless Govinda scene from Jodi No. 1 🙂
*******
[Update Oct 16, 2014]: Song released from the movie – Paaji Tussi Such A Pussycat.
Prediction: Chartbuster
October 10, 2014 5 Comments
How these things came about: so shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall’n on the inventors’ reads: all this can I
Truly deliver.
(Horatio, in Hamlet: Act 5, Scene 2)
Faiz Ahmed Faiz, imprisoned at Central Jail in Hyderabad (the one in Pakistan), wrote this in his book Dasht-e-Sabaa –
Maqaam faiz koi raah mein jaNchaa hi nahiN
Jo ko-e-yaar se nikle to su-e-daar chale
मुकाम फैज़ कोई राह में जँचा ही नहीं
जो कू -ए -यार से निकले तो सू -ए -दार चले
I didn’t care much for the stopovers on the way; So, I departed from the lanes of the beloved, towards the welcoming gallows
When you read Faiz, the revolutionary poet who was one of the pall bearers of progressive literature, often makes you think that his ghazals and nazms are romantic. Truth be told, they are one of the most definitive fusion of romance and revolution. One would never know for sure if gulon mein rang bhare was written as his yearning for his wife, or his yearning for freedom.
Somewhere, Dr. Meer is singing the same ghazal in an unidentifiably named prison MAMA2, and somewhere else in the movie, a young Haider/ Hamlet is expected to complete the couplet – chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale. And , roohdaar (Irrfan Khan – rooh= Ghost, daar = gallows/ house), the prison mate of Dr. Meer/ the ghost of King Hamlet, narrates the backstory.
Tell me now, why wouldn’t you fall in love with this movie?
The juxtaposition of scenes and characters is brilliant.
The movie begins with Dr. Meer (King Hamlet of Denmark) getting picked up by the army under AFSPA and disappearing after that, Ghazala/ Gertrude (Tabu) watching on as Zahoor prays while his band of extremists are taken out by the army and her house is blown up, a bearded hairy Haider/ Hamlet returning to find his father gone and his memories burnt to ashes, Arshia/ Ophelia (Shraddha) fighting for her independence while really being a stooge in a patriarchial society, General Parvez Lone/ Polonius (Lalit Parimu) playing the fine role of a suave strategist army man who would go any lengths to get his way, and finally, Khurram/ Claudius (Kay Kay), who is the slimy conniving uncle that he needs to be. The splitting of Horatio into two Salmans(Salman Khan wannabes) copying the dance steps of “mere rang mein rangne wali” is as brilliant a take as was the conversion of the three Macbethian witches into the two inspectors of Maqbool – “satta ke santulan ke liye aag ke liye paani ka bhay jaroori hai”.
And the final nail – Roohdaar, as the ghost of the dead King (Irrfan), whose puffed burnt eyes that are not able to sleep in the night.
Why would you not fall in love with this movie?
The acting is special. Even from Shahid Kapoor who everyone thinks will destroy his father’s rich legacy. Irrfan, Kay Kay, Tabu, Shraddha, Lalit Parimu and the others – they all just fit the piece.
The music, with the exception of ‘kabhi khul toh’, is intricately woven with the movie. A special standout mention for Bismil, So Jao and Jhelum. [on a separate note, purist as I am about ghazals, I think Arijit Singh has done a rather fine rendition of Gulon Mein]
The cinematography, coming from the man who gave us Ship of Thesus, brings the tragical beauty of Kashmir to life that few others have done.
The dialogues. Subhanallah. Almost poetic. Right from Chutzpah to Intequaam.
Editing – Again, with the exception of that one song, spot on. There are things left unsaid, unexplained. The audience is assumed to be smart enough to interpret or hypothesize. BTW, who was the man behind the mask? Does your heart go out for Dr. Meer who was supporting a terrorist? Oh wait, was that man a terrorist? Oh, but the army still did something horribly wrong, no? Wait, why are we discussing all this? Isn’t it about Haider’s search for his father and the revenge for what what was done to him? By his own brother? Was there a unrequited romance between Ghazala and Haider?
Who cares!! Enjoy the smartest movie of the year my friends! Movies like Haider, with the depth of screenplay, the finesse of dialogues, the detailing of characters, and beautiful visual storytelling, do not happen too often in Bollywood. That it’s a beautiful adaptation of Hamlet makes it more droolworthy*. That I was able to enjoy the movie so much despite me and the biwi having to take turns to play with Laddoo (who was exceptionally energetic all through the show only to drop off to sleep in the last 15 minutes of the movie) should stand testament to the brilliance of Haider.
[ *I never thought there could be another droolworthy adaptation of Hamlet after Hamlet-The Clown Prince.]
[Note: I don’t know which moron came up with the #BoycottHaider campaign. But then I don’t know why there is so much outrage on facebook and twitter about most inconsequential things either.]
April 18, 2014 Leave a comment
Rani’s (Kangna Ranaut) fiancée Vijay (Rajkumar Rao/ Yadav) dumps her on the eve of her wedding, he being a London dwelling engineer and she being a Rajori Garden types. Rani is crestfallen, having danced through her pre-wedding functions. She mopes for a night, and then decides to do the thing that she had always wanted to do. Go to Paris for her honeymoon. So what if the marriage did not work out. She has a ticket. And a desire.
Queen is all about Kangana. Her character, her personality, her dialogues, her foils. The movie has many perfectly placed set pieces, each acting their part out with aplomb, and making Kangana win over an audience that has hitherto found her largely devoid of talent.
Kangana had a good debut with Gangster. However, after Gangster, things never really evolved, and even I had little hopes of seeing an evolving actress. That being said, she continues to be one of those that I find to be extremely beautiful in real life (not reel life). Ethereal almost. She had a good one with Krish 3, playing the vamp turned good one, making more of a presence than Priyanka. But her performance in Queen is something else.
Queen is, most likely, the performance of the year. She has taken a rather mundane role played by many actors and actresses over the years, and added layers of texture to it, either by design or by accident. The end result is an extremely happy movie that does not depend on Rani becoming a role model for anyone, but on making you live her life. The movie keeps you smiling, even in the somewhat tragic moments. Like when Rani’s grandmother is trying to give her advice after her fiancée has dumped her. Or, right after a street bum tries to snatch Rani’s purse and she fights tooth and nail to protect it, she narrates a pure-dilli style story to Lakshmi. Lisa Hayden as Lakshmi impresses, and so does Taka, the Japanese guy. Rani’s father, brother, mother are all excellent in their characterization.
The movie has some really amazingly detailed sequences. There is one where Rani wants to know what Heeng is called in Hindi, and tries to wake her mother up on a long distance call to figure it out. And in the Hungama ho gaya sequence, the way Rani puts the sweater back in her bag after waving it over her head is priceless.
Interestingly, Kangana is also credited with dialogue writing in the film.
Amit Trivedi has scored another winner with the music of Queen. While the promos seemed too keen on promoting London Thumakda and O Gujariya, the album is an out and out winner, whether it be the revisit of Hungama Ho Gaya or Raanjha or Taake Jhaanke. And Amit Trivedi is mastering that oft missing skill of blending the soundtrack of the movie seamlessly with the movie.
One must spare a thought for the salwar-suit that Rani is shown wearing in the pub. I hope it survived the shoot to be someday sold in an auction. Kyonki, with this movie, Hungama Ho Gaya!!!!
Go ahead. Enjoy it. On a DVD, or through the numerous TV reruns that will happen.
January 15, 2014 Leave a comment
Agar batman mar gaya to joker kya karega. Aata goondega?
Dedh Ishqiya is a delightful movie. Flows like water, grows like wine.
If you had a doubt that Babban and Khalu’s chemistry won’t be the same the second time over, worry not. The sparks still fly as you continue to marvel at the real undercurrents of their relationship. Naseer and Arshad continue to razzle dazzle you with the best bro-act. You don’t get to say this often- Ghaaghre Ka Pissu Babban stands taller this time, even though the movie belongs to the Nawab of Chandpur Khalujaan.
If you thought Mushtaq Bhai was funny only the first time, think again. He delivers one of the finer Batman moments of the movie right at the beginning
Instead of one, there are two ladies – but it’d be unfair to Vidya Balan to say that they score over her. I am an ardent Madhuri admirer, but Begum Para is only a shadow of the Madhuri of Mrityudand, Beta, and many more. Huma Qureshi almost sleepwalks through her role which doesn’t make her do anything beyond her Wasseypur shades. In her dancing moments, Madhuri continues to be the gold standard. In the Humri Atariya sequence, one cannot but notice the remarkable difference in the grace, style and expressions with which she dances, and Huma is almost an eyesore in that song. However, Vidya Balan, in the previous edition, had a level of evil and vixen-ness that is clearly missing from the leading ladies this time. That said, if the trailer of Gulaab Gang is anything to go by, I have a feeling we are getting closer to the Madhuri Dixit of yore.
The surprise package of the movie (not so much, really!) is Vijay Raj in the role of Jaan Bhai. I have never really written on how brilliant his comic timing can be. Remember Raghu Romeo. Better still, remember the only watchable parts of that horrible movie “Run” ? Vijay Raj is amazingly awesome as the local MLA/ suitor of Begum Para.
Moving on to the non-people parts of the movie – the star of the movie, like the last time, is the quality of screenplay and dialogues. The chemistry of Khalu and Babban would be only half as explosive if not for the dialogues. However, one most not forget the beautiful use of Urdu – the language of the nawabs. The ingredients – nafaasat, adab, tehzeeb aur salika – are all present in their glory, only to be immediately replaced by Khalu and Babban’s Bhopali Hindi with consummate ease. The English subtitles (forced upon me in Dhanbad, of all the places!) destroy the beauty of those dialogues. But if you can avoid getting burnt by the subtitles, Dedh Ishqiya has one of the best written dialogues in the recent times. . I am glad that they enlisted Bashir Badr as the writer for the Urdu ghazals/ nazms. Bulk of the poetry/ selection is exquisite.
Khalu to Babban: Zara lihaaf hi maang lo
One cannot but marvel at the mini salute to Ismat Chugtai’s Lihaaf towards the end, and the various mini allegories thrown every now and then. Noor Mohammad Italvi (Manoj Pahwa of Bhatia Saab fame) being one of them – kyonki humari ammi Sonia ji ki badi achi dost hain. Munira’s Kaagzi Begum reference, and Jaan Bhai’s quest to be a true nawab.
Dedh Ishqiya’s music isn’t as big a chartbuster as Ishqiya’s music was. That does not mean it is not as soulful. Dil ka mizaaj ishqiya may not be an equal of dil to bacha hai ji, but stands tall as a beautiful ballad. The problem with it is that it’s too similar to the earlier one. What one misses is Mika’s ibn-e-batuta anchor, which Honey Singh fails to provide. Humri Atariya, Zabaan Jale Hai, and Jagaave Saari Raina are good parallels to the music of Ishqiya. Unfortunately Begum Akhtar’s Atariya is probably more touching than Rekha Bhardwaj’s. The music blends as effortlessly as any other good soundtrack you’d remember. The qawwali, which does seem out of place when you hear the audio compilation, also merges well with the movie.
The movie runs at a very even pace, and does not slow down anywhere. A copycat moment of sorts is towards the end, where an action sequence has a traditional “Wo Jo Hum Mein Tum Mein Qaraar Tha” by Begum Akhtar (written by Momin) playing in the background.
To sum it up, Dedh Ishqiya, is like Awadhi biryani. Cooked to perfection, each morsel exploding like a million flavors in your mouth.
January 5, 2014 Leave a comment
And the verdict is- it stays so. And hence, it should not be reviewed.
I saw it again. On big screen. In 3d. And it didn’t change a damn thing. Sholay is mindblowingly awesome fun. You know every scene, every dialogue, every twist and turn. You know the funny ones and the poignant ones. There are no surprises.
Yet, you long for the Jai-Radha romance once again. Yet, you laugh at Basanti’s yun ki once again. Yet again you fall in love with Gabbar. And Imam Saheb- itna sannata kyun hai bhai. The death of Ahmad still affects. And you still shed a secret tear when Jai dies. You still remember the susaad of veeru, and the haath-nahi-faansi-ka-fandaa-hai wala thakur. You are wont to concede that mehbooba mehbooba is one of the finest item numbers of all times. And Soorma Bhopali and angrejon ke jamaane ka jailor are the most important shortest comic acts of all times. Jaya might have delivered one of the finest silent scenes of all times. And Sambha probabkly is the most iconic sidekick of a villain ever. With just one dialogue in the movie! And you secretly (or vocally) mouth all the dialogues.
What can one say about this movie that hasnt been said before. I spent another 3hours+ trying to find flaws. I managed to find one.
The 3D wasn’t needed.
March 17, 2013 Leave a comment
There is a sequence in the movie where Guruji (Sanjay Mishra), a hawaldar, is auctioning the post of SHO Sadar Bazaar to several police inspectors. His condition, in addition to the bid, the person needs to have a clean image. And the inspector who wins has only got an eve-teasing case from Delhi University pending against him. Suitably lauded, he wins the post for 65Lakhs only. Aap sabhi bade afsaron ko hawaldar ka namaskaar”, that’s how he begins the auction.
The simplicity of the proceedings is the heart of Jolly LLB. Jolly LLB is a rather simple movie with a simple idea and a simple script. And simply put, it’s a simple and enjoyable movie.
The movie has its fair share of flaws. Amrita Rao would stand out as the primary. She is not needed. Due to her, there are three songs in the movie and they waste time. And they slow down the movie intolerably. The first half of the movie hence, is slow. You get thepoint of the struggling lawyer, the success of a PIL, a case too strong to hit the headlines, a judiciary so weak that the criminals walk scot free, and a very successful lawyer who’s methods are questionable but his success is not. The part that takes about an hour, could have been done in about 20-25 minutes. Especially because the movie does not mope about anything. It does not over-dramatize anything.
Second half of the movie is much better paced. And with a lot of oddities being there, Subhash Kapoor leaves it to one of the most talented character actors of the industry to seal the case. Saurabh Shukla as the Judge Tripathi. An absolutely brilliant performance that outshines the other two excellent performances from Arshad Warshi (Jolly/ Jagdish Tyagi) and Boman Irani (Rajpal). Towards the end, as he takes subtle control of his courtroom and his bellowing “baith jaiye tejpal sahab. Ye mera courtroom hai” contrast to the burping and conniving judge when he’s introduced, are a joy to behold. It was also softly pleasant to see Ramesh Deo on screen, the man I most remember as Anand and Babu Moshai’s friend.
The other two flaws – Arshad Warsi is good, but is good doing what he has done too many times. His acting/style is not very different from his last few roles. I wonder when he will do another Sehar kind of role. More understated and intense than his lathering blabbering self. The second – here you have a young lawyer who is struggling and unmarried and is dating a school teacher. And Arshad Warsi does not look young. Not in one frame of the movie.
But he compensates for it. Still. It’s a nice movie. Not awesome. But nice.
March 1, 2013 Leave a comment
More often than not, overhyping a movie tends to kill it for the viewers who watch a movie late. And in these times of high information consumption, much as you try, those facebook status updates, or blogger reviews, or media soundbytes do reveal more than you would care to know about a particular movie. KaiPoChe was at risk. It was overhyped.
And it did spoil a few things. But not a lot.
Kai Po Che, for me, is a good example of how right casting makes huge difference to a movie. One of my gripes with 3idiots would always be that barring Shrman Joshi, the other two did not really seem well cast. Kareen Kapoor even more so. However, almost an accident since the big stars did not want this movie, the entire cast of Kai Po Che is near perfect in their aura. It was difficult to not like the movie. Now the question is – did I walk in wanting to not like the movie? Yes. I hated the book– The Three Mistakes Of My Life by Chetan Bhagat. Of the many really average books he has written, I think 3 mistakes is the worst. So, I did not want to see such a bad book turn into a good movie. In some corner of my mind, I was hoping that this movie would be as big a disaster as Hello (which is based on “One Night AtThe Call Center”, the second worst book by CB).
Sushant Singh Rajput as Ishan, the obsessed cricket fan, is excellent. His angst, and the futility of his existence (for what else is it, if you’re a failed fanatic who can demolish even the things you really loves in a moment of frenzy), and his silent apologies – he works well to deliver the central character. There is a certain amount of energy, almost Shahrukh-ish (the early career). Rajkumar Yadav as the bumbling young man, who, for a non-gujju, is the quintessential gujju – the obsession with money matters, the persistence, the brilliant understanding of pennies, and a can-go-to-any-length-kinda-friend. Unsure in the company of Vidya (Amrita Puri), and the enterprising one – Govind is the perfect shadow in the movie. He keeps it real. Vidya is a perfect balance of caring and cunning naughtiness, and has a refreshing screen presence. She was pretty good in aisha too.
But the standout performance for me was Amit Sadh as Omi. In a way, his is the only character that evolves over the movie. The others carry their personality through the movie. Omi, however, graduates from being someone who almost follows anything that Ishan says, to an unsure and reluctant politician, to an enraged fanatic, to a scarred for life young man well beyond his years. His body language, expressions, dialogue delivery, and intensity evolve from frame to frame. Excellent performance!
Credit must be given to Abhishek Kapoor, and whoever else is the dialogue writer of the movie. The screen play does not deviate much from the movie, though the level of detailing is quite good. Despite the enormity of the events, their handling (which is praiseworthy given the quiet and peripheral handling of Gujarat riots and Godhara) never deviates from the core story of friendship.
Music by Amit Trivedi is excellent as usual. At the end of it, Manjha is the song that stays with you for very long. Swanand Kirkire’s lyrics add their magic to the notes.
Barring occasional pace issues, the movie is an extremely enjoyable watch. And watching Harbhajan take wickets was like an encounter with an alternate universe.
Can surely be watched and enjoyed. A 4-star kinda movie.
February 24, 2013 2 Comments
Written by Rafael Nadal with John Carlin .
The book is a phenomenal piece of insight into how the mind of Rafael Nadal, one of the most brilliant athletes to play the game of Tennis, works. The single minded focus with which he pursues the strategy, and the ability to execute what is often discussed in the war room on the field, that’s what makes Rafa special. Some may find it obtuse, but I have a feeling that one of these days, if Rahul Dravid were to expose the inner workings of his mind as candidly as Rafael Nadal does (has done), we would see how similar these two might be.
The book is written in two voices – one of Rafa himself, as he goes through “the final” against Federer – the first Wimbledon victory. The second is of the editor/author John Carlin. The chapters alternate with Rafa’s voice getting you as close to being inside Rafa’s mind as is possible (from the vantage point of the wimbledon final), and a third party narrative of how Rafa became what he is. The fans of Rafael Nadal may worship the book, while the non-fans would enjoy only about 30% of it.
Rafa’s narrative (half the book) is erratic and at the same time, so ruthlessly honest that you get a ringside view of the match, his mindset, his preparation, and his work ethics. The section has no literary value, no profoundness in the form of overbearing statements that every pack of jokers will claim to be their trump card. It’s a simpleton’s explanation of (probably) his biggest triumph, the victory of doggedness and mental strength over sublime talent.
Carlin’s narrative, on the other hand, is bland. It touches on several key aspects of Nadal’s career, but the focus on his relationship with his uncle Toni, the closely knit Nadal family, and his relationship with the world around him are barely scratched. The book steers away from almost all controversies, has nothing negative to say about anyone really. What one finds at the end of it is a warrior competitive to his core, who’s polished his swordsmanship talent by being in the arena for hours and days. And a gentleman. However, despite being bland and full of cliches, this is the part that reveals Nadal, the person, better than Nadal, the athlete compared to the other section..
If you don’t enjoy the sport, the chances are that you won’t like the book. It’s not a Mein Kampf, or My experiments with truth, which have a meaning for everyone. Rafa- An Autobiography, written halfway through Rafael Nadal’s career, is an enjoyable read, but not a great work of philosophy, as most awesome biographies/ autobiographies have the potential to be.
February 21, 2013 Leave a comment
My middle name is Constipated
Vivek Oberoi has invented the expression that Neil Nitin Mukesh is adopting. The one of constipated anger. We will see large volumes of it in Zilla Ghaziabad, but for now, JKLS has him playing the role of a constipated bhai who takes dumps quite frequently. The comic relief is not bad at all!
The short description of the movie is – Girl has tough time in big city. Girl moves into a flat next to bhai. Hence, the rented status – Bhadotri. Bhai has an acquired status – Padosi. Padosi is a nice guy, and comically continues to help Bhadotri – with the frequent “just joking re…. sense of humourous”. One thing leads to another, and bhai and bhabhi get together. Some complications and twists thrown in here and there, and you have JKLS. Girl has a back story with her Baapu’s expectations. Bhai has side story with Big Bhai’s promises, Altaf bhai played by Zakir. Most likely, someone wrote a lot of funny mumbaiyaa dialogues and one liners, and then created a set of scenes around them. ‘That’, finally, led to a movie.
Not a dream sequence, this one!
The plotline is wafer thin, but the acting and quips keep it together. Naseer, Zakir, Vivek Oberoi are the ones that keep things fun. Though, watching Naseer play a buffon rival gangsta/cop Alex Pandian (which by the way is a 2013 Tamil movie’s name as well). Alex Pandian’s fascination with bollywood is intentionally funny though, unlike the bulk of the movie. Neha Sharma, the bhadotri, does her bit by wearing fine and few clothes in a small time locality, living next to a supposed bhai, thereby creating unintentional hilarity. Surprisingly, she does not create any sense of awkwardness in the locality, or in the minds of a really conservative father who’s scared of sending her daughter to a big city, lives about 4 hours away from Mumbai, in a coastal city and pool-based-properties. Alibagh, you think? Main kya tere ko alibagh se aayela lagta hai?
Some of the dialogues are hilarious – the Umrao Jaan reference while beating up a guy, the dig on Indian jails – when JB mentions that he graduated from IJU – Indian Jail University, because udhar bahut type ke English binglish bolne wale log aate, is a witty one. The movie has a Hotel Decent equivalent of Night Lovers as well.
The flow of sequences has no bearing whatsoever to whatever narrative storytelling might be all about, assuming the Director read the script, assuming there was a script, assuming script matters. Most set-piece scenarios are ludicrous. Thankfully, the movie ends while your patience with the chewing gum may still not be exhausted. Couple of songs are decent, though with sub-zero relevance to the movie.
The high point is Vivek Oberoi, which itself serves as a warning for a movie, usually. But honestly, he is quite decent. As decent as a constipated man can be a not so well ventilated room. The lady looks pretty. And is just about better than being a complete washout in the acting department. She is somewhat better than a fashion street top that fades on the first wash.
Short of it all – watch it on TV. You may actually like it.
This one was a 2 on 5 for me.
February 21, 2013 Leave a comment
David ke do aage David. David ke do peeche David. Aage David. Peeche David. Bolo kitne David. 3 David! Correct. As you all know, David has 3 Davids.. And as you an guess, they do have a linkage somewhere. Otherwise, it’d be a lame idea to make a movie named David, right?
Davidar? Gower? Fincher? Schwimmer? No. Just David.
Make it 30 minutes shorter, cut down Monica Dogra’s and Lara Dutta’s presence, and tighten a few scenes. That’s all that David needs to be transmogrified into “Great Cinema”.
At the beginning of the movie, all three Davids are at the cusp of a life changing action. A scene that we see at least thrice in the movie.
The first David is a perennially constipated Neil Nitin Mukesh. Since it is expected that he, having lost his father, would be a grumpy young man, his constipation is a disguised strength actually. Like that tweezer trick of Joey Tribbiani (FRIENDS). The second David (Vikram Virmani) is a hippie, who is so genuinely nice and all that you start wondering what exactly can go wrong with such a nice guy who doesn’t even have a girlfriend. The third David is a loony Chiyan Vikram. His (lack of) hindi skills don’t hurt him because of three reasons – he is a Christian (since independence, we have given Indian Christians the responsibility of speaking Hindi like leftover Brits would), he is in Goa (so speaking native hindi would be very unoriginal, a fact that is not applicable to the other born and brought up in London desi David), and he is, in reality, a Tamil speaking superstar who was last seen in Ravana (after Ravana, one can forgive anyone anything).
Previous commentary withstanding, the third David track is the most interesting, with Saurabh Shukla adding a zing to the proceedings. Tabu waltzes in and out of this act and is brilliant in her role. Vikram himself is not bad at all. The supposed weak link of the story, Isha Sharvani, playes a deaf and mute character, looks ethereally beautiful, and has but a few expressions to take care of. The lady that plays Vikram’s mother is another piece of brilliant furniture in this large well lit room. The lighthouse symphony is a beautiful composition. AND, the constant ear trick is funny, a trait of the seafaring fishermen, I believe.
The first track, shot completely in black and white is reasonably tight. Though one wonders why Milind Soman is there to waste screen time. And Monica Dogra flirts and bites, but with little effect, and lots of boredom. Rekha Bhardwaj’s O Laal Meri filmed on Sarika is a nice touch, especially with the merging into the rock version. This is also the track where everyone seems to be wearing black or white, despite the shots being done in Black and White. Ah. Those were the days. Why waste on color when it has to be colorless.
The second track, the hippie track is the most disconnected track from the movie. If my opinions were counted for, I’d have asked Bejoy Saar to take it out, and focus on the other two. Nothing against Virmani though. Maybe, he was required for continuity, but I’d have figured out something else. But then, why waste 5-10 minutes on Lara Dutta and general sop. Moreover, since with the exception of the second track itself, the timelines don’t really have an impact on the proceedings. the 2011 story of Goan David could have happened in 1999 or 1973 as well. I hope I got the years right. I was too bored to remember such details by the end of the movie.
Bejoy Nambiar has got his casting quite right, I must say. Except Monica Dogra. Actually, her existence in the movie is not quite unjustified, but the length of her role is. In a movie of Davids, she is the real David turning everyone else into Goliath.
The detailing is quite nice too. Like, the David2 getting pager based messages. Or, people talking about the cost of bullets in 1973.
Soundtrack is praiseworthy . Very different, and very versatile, which is explained by the fact that there were 15 composers involved.
David, however, should have been cut down brutally by a good editor. Anurag Kashyap has been missed on this venture. I have been told that the Tamil version has only two stories. I think something like that should have been done for the Hindi version too. The end is quite well done. And Vikram’s Satku Santa is an idea that I’d love to take up some day. So much for secret Santa.
The movie is experimental, and well conceived. But not that well executed. And given the flavor of the season, executions should come easy, right?
Rating – 2 on 5.
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