First a background confession time: I am not a Chetan Bhagat fan; I read his first two novels but I found his writing style so abominably bland that it put me off forever. I reckon he is quite a hit with the youngsters; and that’s the audience the film wants to latch on to. That’s why his name is prominent on the posters, with the blurbs also proclaiming ‘from makers of Rang De Basanti’ a supposedly ‘cult film’ (though for sure, UTV has produced many more since then).

(I made a lame half-hearted attempt at seeking Three Mistakes of My Life, on which this film is based, at the Amazon Kindle stores a few weeks ago, but since it’s not seemingly not available there, I left it).

I am also not too well-versed with Abhishek Kapoor’s sole directorial venture: Rock On, having missed it in theaters, and watched it in fragments on TV (I saw its biggest chunk just today when it was aired on some channel; and found it a fake film in intent: a true blue Hindi melodrama masquerading as something seemingly ‘different’)

So coming back to Kai Po Che - with no overt interest in any of its makers, and not knowing the plotline or the characters, I had a key advantage of approaching it with an open mind. I was so clueless about the basic plot that I had no inkling as to whose ‘three mistakes’ the title refers to – though the film doesn’t really help to spell it out clearly.

(null)

The recent events in Mumbai are shattering. And closure of chemist shops at 6 p.m is another nail in the coffin.

Mumbai is dead. Sadly, no one is caring to revive it. Infra-structurally it was always a poor one, but it more than made up that paucity by a liveliness, an electrifying energy and yes its indomitable spirit – which was not only about displaying resilience in times of trouble. It was a live breathing, energetic, vibrant and pulsating city.

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With a tantalizing tagline ‘Office politics gets hotter’, Inkaar is a sensitive film that deals with ‘office sexual harrasment’ in a more complex manner than it did in Aitraaz (though, let me hasten to add, that film was very enjoyable in its own way).

First the caveat – this is not your usual drab office. The setting is an advertisement agency, hence there is a huge quotient of glamour, casualness & freedom. Most of us would rush through Mumbai’s cruel traffic to mark our e-attendance on time, or sulk over sales numbers doing a Manmohan Singh like deafening silence, here the characters have it rather easy where it comes to the core work. Ideas flow naturally – they even change an entire campaign overnight in a hotel room, clients get bagged with just a few witty lines & the National Creative Director doesn’t seem to be to worried about her staff supposedly pan-India delivering on time. In that, sadly, Sudhir Mishra has alienated a large section of his urban audience, which in any case were his audience! I doubt the film will even see through its opening week in single screens or small sections.

Now for the good parts.

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Hmm, good day to release the film. It’s a sure-shot doomsday for competition, because Chulbul Pandey is here not only to chew a new villain (Prakash Raj) but also to swallow all rivals (if there were any left, in the first place!). I know I am a wrong person to review Dabangg 2, because I am an unabashed and self-proclaimed big-time Salman Khan fan, and this film is made for us.

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Hmm, the chiffons have been packed; the Alps are missing; the heroines are brash; and the biggest change: the Lata Mangeshkar’s velvety vocals are frustratingly absent;  but what remains in Yash Chopra’s swan song is his biggest asset : a straight-from-the-heart, somewhat old-school but deeply honest story-telling!

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A few pointers & questions to Mr Ashwini Dhir & Mr. Ajay Devgn:

1. I like your sense of humour – the name itself said, "SOS", so cant blame you really – but how come you forgot to inject the same humour in the film?

2. Was it necessary for all dialogues to be spoken as some sermon in one high-pitched drone – this was a film, not Mahabharat right?

3. We, the audience, are not that dumb not to read the film’s name – you needn’t have peppered the word ‘Sardaar’ in every other dialogue!

4. Could you please give us whatever you intoxicated your editor with? At least, we can also sit through those painfully lengthy chase-and-action sequences.

5. Slow motion is an effect to enhance a scene. Beyond a point, it ceases to be!

6. I am not blaming your music directors (two of them!) – songs can be a speed-breaker only in something that has speed in the first place!

7. Please go and watch a few of Tanuja’s brilliant acted movie before wasting her in a half-baked half-loony matriarch’s role.

8. Camera angles have been bane of a certain Mr. Ram Gopal Verma. Did you not read the flak he received? Or did you take the phrase ‘over the top’ a bit too literally. It’s not a joke to see so many top angle shots!

9. Please do buy a dictionary and check the word ‘cohesion’ – it may give you some insights. I love commercial films ( Salman Khan, who makes a rather unnecessary guest appearance in this one, is a master in them) but this one irritates and bores to the core!

10. Your heroines (Sonakshi and Juhi) are like glittering sparkles – but you simply allowed them to sinfully fizzle out.

Regards,
Your Pained Viewer!

English Vinglish is a story of a woman’s journey to discover her deprived self-esteem, her own lost self, and mend her warped dignity, all of which have got buried beneath her daily chores & mundane household activities; here her lack of understanding English is used as a metaphor; in reality, it could have been anything. It is a good concept wrapped in a competent film, one I believe will appeal to the ladies audience.

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Oh My God (OMG)  is an interesting and thought-provoking film that raises an accusing finger at god-men, rituals and other religious paraphernalia. Shun them, not God, is what the film says. Don’t allow the ‘business of God’ to flourish: why waste milk over stone idols when it can be used to feed the hungry? Be God-loving, not God-fearing.

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I have enjoyed many Vikram Bhatt-horror films : Raaz, 1920, Haunted to name a few. But this one is very average, and certainly looks made hurriedly on a tight budget, and sadly with very few spooks.

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Ek Tha Tiger  is a smashing entertainer with slick production values, a smooth as butter narrative flow, stunning action, superb music, crystal shining cinematography & Salman Khan in a top form.

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Arguably, Ek Tha Tiger is this season’s most awaited film. Consequently, it’s music carries with it an unwarranted high expectations. Just how is a ‘blockbuster music’ supposed to sound? If one peeps into history, most popular music or music from bumper hits wasn’t ‘architected’ to hit the bull’s eye, it just happened in due course of time. Expectations add an unnecessary burden, and most times creators fail to live up to it – not because their deliveries are bad, but because by nature expectation is always a notch higher in some vagure netherworld that is undefinable.

The reviews I read on the internet all seemed to carry some sort of mental measuring scale trying to match that undefined mark with the result in hand. My review is about a bunch of song, the film be damned! In any case, film songs should fit the plot, but at the same time have a life of their own to live beyond the film. In this, I feel Ek Tha Tiger numbers do succeed. Whether they fit into the story or not, is something that can only be gauged once the film releases, but listening to the audio it piques the interest, and standalone they have a life of their own.

Though, I’d be honest to say that I approached it with my own set of expectations – the key composer Sohail Sen is a music director I have been keenly following having taken to his warm, instrument-based compositions (a break away from the cluttered similar sounding composers of today). I still vociferously & firmly assert that his Khelen Hum Jee Jaan Sey is a masterpiece worth its every note weighed in gold!

First things first, the number of songs – four originals, one theme music followed by bunch of remixes. The remixes are redundant, and I will leave them out. Four songs is pathetically low number and seriously gives away the discouraging fact that music was never meant to be the film’s mainstay. But then Yash Raj Films’ romantic blockbuster Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi had a similar number of songs hence a thriller (albeit a romantic one, whatever that means) was bound to have same or less. Thankfully, they kept it at same.

The four songs blend with the main filming locations : Cuba, Ireland, Middle East and of course our very own India.

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The glare of rich, easy and comfortable life that blurs the lines between morality and crime (while the protagonist’s lover looks on helplessly) has been an oft explored theme in Hindi cinema. Right from Shri 420 to Naam to Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman to Bas Itna Sa Khwab Hai, several Rajus have been blown away by the easy money tainted with blood, urged to mud mud ke na dekh to the middle class but tough and morally high life they have just disparagingly discarded. One more addition to such morally corrupted protagonist list is Kunal Kadam ( Kunal Kemmu, with his surname spelling changed, mind it!).

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Last year I travelled to Almaty in Kazhakistan, one of those break-away nations when USSR crumbled. It’s a quaint place, and I quite liked it; the flight to and fro (that too from Delhi) was anything but. While going they tortured us by being extremely stingy in serving water. On return, they upped the ante. We reached around midnight, exhausted, and sanguinely looking forward to crash into the bed before catching an early morning flight to Mumbai. In between, I had planned to slip away and visit parents; after all, it would be callous and criminal to be in Delhi and not visit them.

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Kahaani is a brilliantly directed, taut and tense thriller, with dollops of twists, and  loads of suspense,  leaving the audience forever guessing, and lots of surprise elements that will keep you riveted to your seats.

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Jodi Breakers seems to stem out from someone pointing out after watching Band Baaja Baraat (BBB) -’what if they specialized in breaking than making couples?’

Well, yes? Then? Then what?

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Sweet, short, slim and pretty much serene; though the film lacks a full-bodied story yet it makes it up with its inherent charm & easy-going affability, especially between the lead pair. Plus, it’s running time is just about right.

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Leaving this space unattended was not intentional. It just happened. Perhaps, Facebook is to blame as it devours a bulk of my time; especially, I find posting quick and short film reviews, without much editing or thought, easier and convenient. Here, I’d labor over grammar and vocabulary and definitely a deeper thought process would be involved. Plus, most friends are there who read it immediately and give a quick comment.

However, past week or so I realized the downside. Leaving home unattended meant cyber-tramps barged in. Spam comments has shot up to an unbelievably high levels; the menace has reached a stage where I have to put my foot down, so here I am updating the site and hoping this will curb their barrage. Of course, the spam comments ranged from the hilarious to the fescennine but still I’d do without them.

Life’s been mostly routine, normal and hardly post-worthy. Or, and most likey that’s the correct reason, my life-vision has dimmed to not view it from that angle any longer. Picking up the thread from my last post, I settled comfortably into my new house. Err, much too comfortably, as my friend pointed out. Though I’d somewhat disagree. I have gone and seen (and rejected) a few houses (for buying purpose) but yes admittedly the effort has carried the same amount of urgency as it did at the beginning of this year. Which reminds me, 2011 is almost over. Strange, how time flies.

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Finally, I found a house – albeit, a rented one, for now! But before I could reach here I had to undergo my share of the proverbial baptism by fire!

My search for a decent house to purchase went up right up to mid-April, when panic set in. Time had run out -I had to vacate the previous one by the month-end, and I was nowhere close to selecting, leave alone starting the cumbersome paper-work. Before I left for Delhi for a short-trip, I zeroed-in on a nice rental accommodation. On return, I went to pay the advance when the owner dropped a devastating bomb on my well-laid plans: the society will not allow bachelors to stay there. As he spoke those horrifying words the ground shifted beneath my feet, my mouth dried and I felt uncomfortably nauseous. Sitting in the owner’s obnoxiously claustrophobic office, I stammered some well-meaning arguments which fell with impotent futility on his iron-hard demeanor. The only words echoing in my mind were my promises to my then-current owner made just that morning, about vacating the next weekend, and they played relentlessly like a tape in an infinite spool.

Stepping out into the oppressive Mumbai humidity, I turned to my property consultant. I was too frustrated to even get angry at him who should have checked all these details beforehand. On his part, he apologized profusely and frantically dialed his contacts and lined up a few more.

The next few hours felt like a movie hurtled into a frenzied pace, without making any sense or logic – driving from one house to another, tiresomely waiting in the courtyard for keys to arrive, viewing some that befit haunted movies sets than living-in, negotiating with prospective owners (as suddenly I discovered I had to adjust my budget upward). And all this without having eaten either breakfast or lunch or having even a drop of water. Like a parched and shriveled leaf thrown into a gargantuan whirlpool, by the end of that terrifying noon I felt beaten and bruised.

In all this, the sun hammered with its unforgiving fury and the humidity sucked out the last of my waning energies.

Whoa! It’s this blog’s seventh anniversary. Seven is considered an auspicious number:  Seven Wonders, seven pheras, seven music notes, seven seas & seven colors.  Let’s wish the number’s luck also rubs onto this site & it gets more prolific.

Happy Anniversary Random Expressions!

I am on a house-hunt. Again. Last week, my landlady dropped the bomb that they needed the house returned; and this, after their broker had lulled me into believing the lease will be renewed. Apparently, that’s not the case. This, when (after all my doubts) I had actually started to love my current pad. I requested for a three-month buffer, and immediately dialed my regular broker. He all but groaned though nevertheless promised to help; after all, that’s his business.

I saw the first batch yesterday and like the previous two times, returned frustrated, grumpy & cribbing. Yesterday’s search added one more word from Bombay’s unique property lexicon: ‘converted homes’ ; and though I realize property is an unlisted but potent religion, still, the word flummoxed me, till the time I saw one such ‘convert’ . It means slicing an already tiny 1BHK into further two frustratingly tinier bedrooms; usually, the kitchen area is the sacrificial lamb in this sacrament, reduced to a mere apology of a sliver. In the first such house, I marveled at a family staying in this constricted space – consisting of a father, a couple *and* a huge dog!

I decided ‘Converted houses’ are not my cup of poison and I strictly forbade the broker to show me anymore such hybrids. Likewise, I also struck off any one-hall-kitchen; in one such home, I gaped with amusement at the kitchen (with a sink and gas stove) on one corner and the bed on the other. I crave my coffee cup early morning but to stagger sleepily out of bed and immediately face the gas-stove is stretching convenience even beyond my lazy limit.

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