Cinema is Forever!

Must Watch Before You Die #25: 'Cannibal Holocaust' (1980)

2012-02-17T00:23:00.006+05:30

Ruggero Deodato's 'Cannibal Holocaust' is the most disturbing film I have watched. It is several times more disgusting than 'Caligula', 'Irreversible', 'Baise Moi', 'Dogtooth', 'The Cook, the Thief, his Wife, and her Lover', 'I Stand Alone', the Saw series or the disturbing bests of David Lynch, David Cronenberg, or Lars Von Trier, including 'Antichrist'. And I know that recommending this movie as a must-watch might become a little controversial. But there are several reasons for me to do so. Please click here to understand my motive behind starting the 'Must Watch' section on this blog and you might get an idea of why I'm recommending this film over several other great ones.

I am not in a state-of-mind to coherently communicate everything I have in my head. So let me just jot them down, point-wise:

This is widely considered as the most controversial film ever made. The filmmaker was imprisoned and the film was banned in several countries.
This film started the 'Found Footage' genre, way back in 1980, though the genre became popular only with 'The Blair Witch Project' by the end of the 90s. From '[Rec]', to 'LSD' and 'Ragini MMS' - now several movies are using this concept.
I loved the structure of the film. I really wish I could make something like this, as far as the structure and style is concerned.
The blood and gore in this film is genuinely nauseating and I would have definitely puked if the scenes were longer. I also realized that as long as it is a part of our logical or emotional perception - and integral to the story or the moment, we are not necessarily nauseated. But when the scene is purely a sensory perception - stretching beyond the need of the story, it incites the feeling of nausea, as it happened to me on my first day in an Operation Theater. I believe this insight itself was an interesting learning from this film!
There are simulated but realistic scenes of brutal murders, cannibalism, and slashing of male and female genitalia. But the more controversial elements are the obviously real scenes of animal torture. So all animal lovers are going to hate me for recommending this movie. But I have an argument, and I'm not going to defend the cruelty for 'the sake of art'. I think it was a money-making gimmick. The film was a big success because of this controversy. My point is, if it is OK to kill an animal for food, what is so wrong in killing an animal for display and making money. (By the way, for the record: I am a vegetarian! And there is nothing religious or ethical about it.)
I deliberately chose this very repulsive poster for this blog post as I want to warn you at the same time as I recommend watching this movie. Do NOT watch it if you think this poster is too disgusting for you.
And if you decide to watch it, please go for the UNCUT version. Otherwise, the point is lost.
Bring on the moral brigade. I'm ready for their wrath.

Not Bad At All!

2012-02-14T21:03:00.003+05:30

I had no reason to believe that 'Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu' could be a good film. I hated the promos and the lead pair was hardly exciting for me. I wasn't surprised when Taran Adarsh praised this film, but was when I read favourable reviews from other critics as well. Add to this that rare occasion when a friend from college is visiting you and you are tired after roaming about the city all night and do not have the energy to do anything else in the next four hours before his train takes him back. So we decided to indulge in this gamble, and watched this film with low expectations and a little hope.

I was largely unaffected during the first hour of the film, despite some cool treatment by the director. I just felt that it was not as funny as the makers thought it was. But I liked the performance of the leading lady. However, post-interval, I suddenly got a feeling that things are going to improve remarkably and kind-of prophetically told my friend that the director is now going to tighten his grasp on us. We were soon involved in the film, and liked some of the scenes a lot.

The masterstroke was the end. [SPOILER AHEAD] The ambiguity with which the film ended was something I truly appreciated, and ironically it gave me a feeling of contentment unlike some of my fellow audience. I overheard one of them saying, as we exited the theater - "Ye kya baat huyi? Na idhar hi rahe, na udhar hi!" But thanks to the ending, a competent direction, and Kapoor's effortless performance, I was pleasantly surprised. The only thing that remains forgettable about this film, in my opinion, is its title. I don't think I'll remember it by its title in future, but I'll recall it as "the first film by Shakun Batra".

Movie-time at Macondo

2012-02-11T12:25:00.005+05:30

I’m the happiest person on earth these days. And I’m the saddest. The reason for both is a wonderful experience I’m having, and for a change, it has nothing to do with cinema. The name of that experience is “One Hundred Years of Solitude”, one of the most amazingly original piece of fiction, more infectious and influential than anything I have read. The author, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, is my latest God.

I have wanted to talk about him and this novel on this blog ever since I started reading it. But since I had restricted myself from discussing anything except cinema on this space, I could not. Then Marquez himself came to my rescue. The twelfth chapter of the book began with following lines and I instantly got the ‘excuse’ to share it here.

[The eleventh chapter ends with the first locomotive arriving in the isolated town of Macondo: “…the innocent yellow train that was to bring so many ambiguities and certainties, so many pleasant and unpleasant moments, so many changes, calamities, and feelings of nostalgia to Macondo.” Following is the opening passage of the twelfth chapter]

“Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo did not know where their amazement began. They stayed up all night looking at the pale electric bulbs fed by the plant that Aureliano Triste had brought back when the train made its second trip, and it took time and effort for them to grow accustomed to its obsessive toom-toom. They became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears of affliction had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many felt that they had been the victims of some new and showy gypsy business and they decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortune of imaginary beings.”

So cinema flopped, failed to impress the people of this magical land. I didn’t mind, just thanked Marques sa’ab for weaving it in his work about which book-reviewer William Kennedy writes: “the first piece of literature since the Book of Genesis that should be required reading for the entire human race… Mr. Garcia Marquez has done nothing less than to create in the reader a sense of all that is profound, meaningful, and meaningless in life.”

So after completing seventy per cent of it, I’m sad. Some of the most endearing characters are dying in solitude, and the novel is about to end. But I find myself agreeing entirely with the above-mentioned book-reviewer, and want my Mom to read this urgently, and am looking for a Hindi translation of the book for her. This is the funniest and the saddest story I have ever read. And I believe, anyone who ends up reading this book will find his way of looking at the world change forever – by being magically aware of its beauty and sordidness, merits and futility, all at the same time.

P.S. By the way, cinema did not perish from Macondo. Later in the novel there is mention of people spending time at the movie theatre. “Then she got dressed, went to the movie theater, and in the darkness of the seats she recognized her daughter. The upsetting feeling of certainty stopped her from seeing the man she was kissing, but she managed to hear his tremulous voice in the midst of the deafening shouts and laughter from the audience.”

(image courtesy: http://thegourmetdilettante.blogspot.in/)

'The Descendants' (2011)

2012-02-02T01:54:00.002+05:30

Days are extremely hectic, so I don't get to write on this space too often. Even my 'movie-count' has gone down - only a dozen movies in 2012 so far.

But I managed to watch Alexander Payne's 'The Descendants' (2011) at PVR Juhu this morning. I was kind-of surprised to see the fairer sex outnumbering the males in the audience, though it completely makes sense now. This is a film to watch with your loved ones (except kids for its "inappropriate language"). Please go for it.

And watch it on big screen. Good American Dramas rarely come to our cinemas.

Last Night at Juhu

2012-01-28T23:44:00.003+05:30

I had a conversation with the writer and the director of the latest release ‘Agneepath’. True to my nature, I did the most of talking. Following are the excerpts:

(As I came out of Chandan Theatre, with thousands of others, the Writer spotted me. He was coming out of the next-door PVR.)

The Writer: Hey Satyanshu! How did you like the film? I really want to know your reaction.

Me: Well… I’ll get to that later. But first I’ve some questions for you.

The Writer: Go on!

Me: You took a long time to justify why a young Vijay decides to make ‘revenge’ his life’s sole ambition, the entire story until we see the first glimpse of his grown-up self is about that, and I was pretty involved during that part. So I must say the film began well for me.

The Writer: Oh, thank you!

Me: Wait… hold on… I’m not complimenting you… Anyway, let me first ask you those questions. At the interval point I realized that Vijay had spent most of our film time plotting and acting against his father-figure Rauf Lala. Why did he do that? Was eliminating Lala the only way for Vijay to reach Kancha? I don’t believe that! We were prepared to watch him avenge his father’s death and here he was, busy needlessly, with Lala. The final clash with Lala was justified as Lala was ‘selling’ Vijay’s kid sister, but Lala did that to avenge the death of his son, and I would say he was justified in doing so. Don’t you think Vijay lost his focus for the most part of the film and his incoherence confused the audience?

The Writer: No one has been complaining that!

Me: Yeah, I agree. They are too confused to pin-point this major personality flaw in Vijay, the hero who confused his vengeance. And there are more questions… See. Vijay went to fight Kancha alone, right? With neither his army of eunuchs, nor with Om Puri’s police force, nor with the goons he had stolen from Rauf Lala. He went alone, almost empty handed, right? So why did he wait all these years? And, this brings me back to my first question, why did he work tirelessly to eliminate Lala? Was it because he could not find proper means of transport to go back to his village all these years? Why did he keep waiting? We would have cheered his incredible single-handed victory over Kancha anyway, didn’t he know that? Was he waiting to build enough muscles to be able to life the giant Kancha at the most vulnerable point of the duel? Or was he waiting for the film to approach its third hour of run time?

The Writer: Have you watched the original?

Me: I’ve watched ‘Scarface’.

The Writer: I’m talking about the original ‘Agneepath’. Have you watched it?

Me: No.

The Writer: Watch it. Then we will talk.

(Interrupted by the entry of the Director)

The Director: So, you didn’t like it?

Me: Well… I think it was OK. But I really liked your work as the director. It was you who managed to create an atmosphere that kept me involved. You took a weak script and unconvincing characters and made a powerful film. I would say all merits of the film (including the performances) are yours, and all demerits (including the performances) are the writer’s.

The Director: But I’m the writer as well.

Me: WHAT?

The Director: Don’t you see? You’ve been talking with me about the script for so long now!

Me: Oh, really??? Um… I don’t know… Sorry. Excuse me!

(And I quietly slip away.)

Must Watch Before You Die #24: 12 Angry Men (1957)

2012-01-22T23:12:00.004+05:30

I must confess that I'm not very sure about every movie I recommend here as a 'must watch', because my reasons for selecting one might not be sufficient to convince others. But at times I am absolutely confident about the choice, and Sidney Lumet's '12 Angry Men' is one of those movies. I watched it last night for the second time and was blown away by it yet again. As I recommend it here, I can't imagine there can be any one who would not like this film.

'12 Angry Men' is a must-watch because:

It is perhaps the finest example of the triumph of the script. The film has nothing to seduce you - visually, art-wise, not even attractive women or lovable kids. It just has a clear and captivating plot with some unforgettable characters. For all students of cinema this is one example of what good writing can achieve.
It proves that you do not need any resources to make a good film. If you have a good script, all you need is good performers. The way Lumet has used the limitations of space and time to his advantage is amazing. 90 minutes in one small dull room, in almost real time, and it still won't let you blink. For all young filmmakers wanting to make their first film, it is a great inspiration. It was Lumet's first and then he had an illustrious career with films like 'Dog Day Afternoon' and 'Network'. Today he is considered as one of the finest American filmmakers of all time.
It is one of the most violent films, despite having no moment of physical violence. Not a single slap, but it is still so powerful. It is also a great psychological study of human minds, and an effortless and sharp critique of the society we live in.
Most importantly, and like other Lumet films, it should be watched for its performances.

I'm so inspired by this film that this morning I started a shot-by-shot study of it. Hopefully, I'll finish it in the next 10 days. I don't know whether posting it here would be helpful for the readers of this blog, but we'll see. Presently, it is giving me immense satisfaction as a student of screen grammar.

Do watch it soon!

Gurudev Uvaacha #3

2012-01-09T19:42:00.003+05:30

Just read a fascinating Hitchcock interview conducted by Peter Bogdanovich. Following are some excerpts. Click here to read the complete interview.

You never watch your film with an audience. Don't you miss hearing them scream?

Hitchcock: No. I can hear them when I'm making the picture.

'Young and Innocent' (1937)

Hitchcock: When you are dealing with melodrama, you mustn't let the characters take themselves where they want to go. They must come where you want to go. So it's really an inverted process... You lay out your story and you put the characters in afterwards. That's why you don't get really good characterizations.

Wasn't 'Rebecca' (1940) the first film in which you experimented with a tracking camera as opposed to the use of montage?

Hitchcock: Only because we were going around a big house. I don't think it was really right, because after all, the eye must look at the character. It must not be conscious of a camera dollying unless... for a particular purpose.

How did you get the idea of the windmill sequence in 'Foreign Correspondent' (1940)??

Hitchcock: When I am given a locale... it's got to be used dramatically. We're in Holland. What have they got in Holland? Windmills? Tulips? If the picture had been in color, I would have worked in the shot I've always wanted to do and never have yet. The murder in a tulip field. Two figures. The assassin... comes up behind the girl. The shadow creeps up on her, she turns, screams. Immediately we pan down to the struggling feet, in the tulip bed. We dolly the camera in to one of the flowers, sounds of the struggle heard in the background. We go right to one petal -- it fills the screen -- and, splash! a drop of red blood comes over the petal. And that would be the end of the murder.

How did that long tracking shot for the famous balcony love scene in 'Notorious' (1946) develop?

Hitchcock: I felt that they should remain in an embrace and that we should join them... The whole idea was based on not breaking the romantic moment... The idea came to me many, many years ago when I was on a train going from Boulogne to Paris... The train goes slowly through a town called Ataples... There's a big, old, red brick factory, and to one end of the factory was this huge, high brick wall. There were two little figures at the bottom of the wall -- very small -- a boy and a girl. The boy was urinating against the wall, but the girl had a hold of his arm and she never let go. She'd look down at what he was doing, and then look around at the scenery, and down again to see how far he'd got on. And that was what gave me the idea. She couldn't let go. Romance must not be interrupted, even by urinating.

What was your main reason for making 'Dial M for Murder' (1954)?

Hitchcock: When your batteries run dry, when you are out creatively, and you have to go on... Take a comparatively successful play that requires no great creative effort on your part and make it. Keep your hand in, that's all... If you have to make a film -- as I was under contract to Warners at the time -- play safe. Go get a play and make an average movie -- photographs of people talking. It's ordinary craftsmanship.

Isn't 'Vertigo' (1958) about the conflict between illusion and reality?

Hitchcock: Oh, yes... The basic situation contained so much analogy to sex. Stewart's efforts to recreate the woman were, cinematically, exactly the same as though he were trying to undress the woman, instead of dressing her. He couldn't get the other woman out of his mind. Now, in the book, they didn't reveal that she was one and the same woman until the end of the story. I shocked Sam Taylor, who worked on it, when I said, "When Stewart comes upon this brunette girl, Sam, this is the time for us to blow the whole truth." He said, "Good God, why?" I told him, if we don't what is the rest of our story until we do reveal the truth... A man wants to make a girl over and then, at the very end, finds out it is the same woman. Maybe he kills her, or whatever. Here we are, back in our old situation: surprise or suspense. And we come to our old analogy of the bomb: you and I sit talking and there's a bomb in the room. We're having a very innocuous conversation about nothing. Boring. Doesn't mean a thing. Suddenly, boom! the bomb goes off and they're shocked -- for fifteen seconds. Now you change it. Play the same scene, insert the bomb, show that the bomb is placed there, establish that it's going to go off at one o'clock -- it's now a quarter of one, ten of one--show a clock on the wall, back to the same scene. Now our conversation becomes very vital, by its sheer nonsense. "Look under the table! You fool!" Now they're working for ten minutes, instead of being surprised for fifteen seconds.

In 'Psycho' (1960), aren't you really directing the audience more than the actors?

Hitchcock: Yes. It's using pure cinema to cause the audience to emote. It was done by visual means designed in every possible way for an audience. That's why the murder in the bathroom is so violent, because as the film proceeds, there is less violence. But that scene was in the minds of the audience so strongly that one didn't have to do much more... Can you imagine how the people in the front office would have cast the picture? They'd say, "Well, she gets killed off in the first reel, let's put anybody in there, and give Janet Leigh the second part with the love interest." Of course, this is idiot thinking. The whole point is to kill off the star, that is what makes it so unexpected. This was the basic reason for making the audience see it from the beginning. If they came in half-way through the picture, they would say, "When's Janet Leigh coming on?" You can't have blurred thinking in suspense.

Cinema 2011: Looking Back at my Cinema Experience of the Year

2012-01-01T03:39:00.003+05:30

It was the year when I finally watched ‘Gone with the Wind’, ‘Ben-Hur’, and ‘Once Upon a Time in America’ – movies that are definite milestones in the career of a movie-buff. Keeping up with 2009, and 2010, I watched close to 240 good films. But I will remember 2011 as the year that took this romance to new, complicated, levels. Studying cinema, writing screenplays, making short films, and most importantly – sharing perspectives and passion with young and fresh cinephiles, it seems to be the beginning of crazy times ahead. Also, for the first time I feel myself updated with the current happenings of International Cinema. As the critics are coming up with the lists of the bests of the year, I have heard of most and watched many.

Following are the highlights of the year:

• Finishing the filmography of Andrei Tarkovsky and the Coen Brothers, and also, barring one avoidable film each of, Stanley Kubrick and David Lynch: While Kubrick surely remains my favourite English-language filmmaker, and the Coen Brothers and David Lynch among the modern favourites, Tarkovsky has been the most difficult filmmaker to watch. It is easy to acknowledge him as a rare artist, but watching his movies is tough. I plan to study him further in 2012, and re-watch all seven of his feature films, hoping to appreciate him better.

• Scoring high with other masters: As on date I have watched 19 Hitchcock films, including all major ones. Other high scores are: Kurosawa’s 14, Bunuel’s 13, Bergman’s 12, Scorsese’s 12, Fellini’s 11, and Spielberg’s 11. Top it with Satyajit Ray’s 18. I now find myself more interested in their filmographies than individual films.

• Understanding the brilliance of Billy Wilder, Terrence Malick, Abbas Kiarostami, and Lars Von Trier: Earlier I had just watched one or two of their features. Today they are among my all-time favourites.

• New Discoveries: Most impressive have been Buster Keaton, David Cronenberg, the Dardenne Brothers, and Ang Lee. Also watched one-two films each of Fatih Akin, Mani Kaul, Werner Herzog, Jacques Tati, Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Pier Paolo Passolini, Emir Kusturica, and Roberto Rossellini. Need to watch more of them.

• Continuing with exploring the films of Roman Polanski, Michelangelo Antonioni, Bernardo Bertolucci, John Huston, Yasujiro Ozu, Kenji Mizoguchi, Woody Allen, and Ken Loach.

• Big Screen Re-watch: ‘Seven Samurai’, ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’, ‘Schindler’s List’, and ‘GoodFellas’.

• Studying ‘Citizen Kane’. Also, ‘Vertigo’, ‘Bicycle Thieves’, ‘Pather Panchali’, ‘Breathless’, and ‘Pulp Fiction’.

• The film book of the year was ‘Directing: Film Techniques and Aesthetics’ by Michael Rabiger.

2012 promises to be extremely hectic on the work front. I also want to devote more time to teaching. But watching and studying cinema will remain my first love. As the first day of the year storms in and the world is going mad with celebrations, I’m confused over one big problem: which movie to start the year with?

30 Big Lessons from a Short Film

2011-12-19T23:58:00.004+05:30

1. Making short films is the best way to learn film-making.

2. Unavailability of equipment, finance, or professional crew should never be an excuse for not making a film, esp. short. I had these inhibitions. No more.

3. Zero-budget does not necessarily mean zero-budget. A budget of 3-4K can also be considered zero if spent extremely judiciously.

4. Working with a child actor is fun. But it has its costs.

5. Working with more than one child actor is a pain, especially if they know each
other well. They treat the shoot like a holiday and have a blast, making your job impossible. Next time, cast children unknown to each other.

6. You are not the most stressed person on set. Possibly, it is the actor.

7. While scheduling the shoot it is not important to consider whether it is manageable by you. The bigger question is – is it manageable by the actors. Make sure they are comfortable and not over-worked. Their mental health is more important than your own.

8. An appropriate performance is only appropriate. You have to put in extra-effort (and I don’t know what it means) to extract something magical from your actors.

9. Do not be satisfied with the actor performing the way you expected. Inspire him/her to surprise you every time you take a shot. Or your film will be only as good as your narration of the script.

10. There are times when you let the actor improvise the way he/she wants. There are times when you follow the lines from the script verbatim. Making the right decision at the right time is the difference between an ordinary and a good film.

11. An actor improvises a line. You like it and shoot it. But make sure you have one good take of the line as written in the script as well. The improvisation may appear out-of-sync with the storytelling when you edit the scene. There was a reason why the writer spent such a long time writing those lines. Respect the written word.

12. Do not ‘Okay’ a take until you have seen the framing and the performance in a monitor. The LCD screen of the camera is deceptive, uselessly deceptive.

13. After the first day of shoot, you wonder whether you should continue making films.

14. The second day is always much better than the first.

15. If you are determined to learn and improve, by the end of the third or fourth day, you will see an obvious positive change.

16. Shooting is like a mad festival. It is stressful, but it is fun.

17. Murphy also functions invisibly. Even after a relatively smooth shoot, when you think you got what you wanted, he can surprise you at the editing table, when you realize you just do not have good takes to complete the film.

18. Like always, the only way to counter this invisible face of Murphy is – planning. Meticulous planning may not always work, but it will always be better than not planning.

19. The biggest merit of planning extensively is – it keeps you stress-free during the shoot, and that enables you to take vital on-the-spot calls.

20. After watching the rough cut, you feel how wrong your judgment during the shoot was.

21. Try not to be ashamed of making big manipulative changes during the edit. Editing is as much your storytelling tool as any other. To be honest, it is the first step where the script starts to lose its relevance. You may end up making a film different from your initial vision, but if it works, nothing else matters.

22. There is a massive difference between the rough cut and the final cut. Massive. Huge.

23. Good sound design can enhance the performances too, especially in the non-dialogue shots.

24. Imaginative use of background score can be your movie-saving tool.

25. Understatement is an art to be mastered. Inexperienced makers attempting understated drama may end up with something that looks superficial and barely affecting.

26. Over-reliance on the script may be as bad as ignoring it.

27. It is difficult to decide which of the two realizations is more painful – that your filming could not do justice to your writing, or that your writing was not good in the first place.

28. If you had planned well, you can still end up with a bad film. But you will be better placed to diagnose where you went wrong. All points above prove this.

29. The best way forward would be to plan the next short film, giving particular attention to address the specific problem areas you experienced and diagnosed.

30. Life as a film-maker is going to be full of insecurities and self-doubts. And this is something no level of planning or practice can prevent. Hence proved: despite trying to be an elaborate planner, a shrewd manager and a deft craftsman, filmmaker is ultimately an artist! ;)

Black Diamond Lady

2011-12-19T01:22:00.005+05:30

The December edition of Filmfare celebrates 60 years of its icons. From Ashok Kumar to Kareena Kapoor, the magazine has covered forty-eight icons from the history of Hindi cinema. I'd lost interest in the magazine after high-school, but I really liked this latest edition, especially the rare pics that it has assembled.

Each star is headlined with one line, some apt, some ridiculous. Following are the one-lines I liked, in alphabetical order:

Aishwarya Rai: It's a Wonderful Life...

Amitabh Bachchan: The Grandmaster

Ashok Kumar: The First Superstar

Balraj Sahni: The Thespian

Dharmendra: Man for All Reasons

Guru Dutt: Poet of Angst

Jaya Bachchan: Next-Door Darling

Jeetendra: Luck Supreme

Madhubala: India's Sweetheart

Meena Kumari: Tears, Idol Tears

Mumtaz: Spice Rack

Nargis: First Lady

Nutan: Acting Ace

Parveen Babi: Bohemian Rhapsody

Raj Kapoor: The Ringmaster

Rekha: Against all Odds

Rishi Kapoor: A Suitable Man

Salman Khan: Dark Knight

Sanjeev Kumar: World of His Own

Shashi Kapoor: Charm Grenade

Smita Patil: As Time Goes By...

Tabu: Far from the Madding Crowd

Zeenat Aman: And God Created Woman

The magazine is also conducting an online poll on the most iconic talents in the history of Hindi cinema (including music directors, lyricists, and the most iconic film). If you are interested, vote by visiting http://www.filmfare.com/icons/

Must Watch Before You Die #23: The Age of Innocence (1993)

2011-12-12T22:11:00.004+05:30

After a really long time, a love-story has affected me so deeply. Despite being set in the 19th century, amidst the superficial lives of the upper class New Yorkers, Martin Scorsese’s ‘The Age of Innocence’ is devoid of any hint of melodrama, and manages to strike a chord universally. I believe it will continue to do that forever. It is one of those non-Hindi films I can show to my Mom, and then discuss in detail, drawing parallels from the profoundly mature and moving stories of love and longing by Gulzar (Read ‘Andhi’, ‘Mausam’, ‘Ijazat’). And I’m confident that most people out there, who have loved, or loved and lost, will cry the tears that only welled up my eyes. (And that is a big cut-off as I hardly get sentimental watching love stories!)

The film is based on the Pulitzer Prize winning eponymous novel by Edith Wharton – the first female author to win the award. In one of the film’s many brilliant scenes, the narrator, aptly in a female voice, shares with us what the male protagonist thinks about her innocent wife: “He thought it was wonderful how such depths of feelings could coexist with such an absence of imagination.” Note the amazing insight it provides into the characters. The tender purity of this line echoes all through the 140-minute film and I believe it required a woman to write something as beautiful as this.

And I also believe it required a master like Scorsese to translate it to cinema so effectively. Scorsese in my opinion is a film-maker who makes European Cinema set in America, and uses the best of Hollywood to form strong and unique authorial expressions. Not many film-makers have managed to achieve that incredibly impressive balance between art and commerce, niche and popular, substance and style, or form and content. So ‘The Age of Innocence’ is not only one of the most beautiful film you will see, its beauty goes beyond sets and costumes to the magical mix of inventiveness and classical film grammar. It is one of those films which you can enjoy watching on mute, as well as by just listening to the sound-track with your eyes closed. Of course, you would not prefer to close your eyes, especially because of the amazing performances by Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Winona Ryder. The intricately nuanced acting by them is one of the biggest achievements of the film, and perhaps the biggest reason to watch it all over again. ‘The Age of Innocence’ celebrates cinema’s unique confluence of all forms of expression and tops it all with a rare sensitivity. You have to watch it, soon.

Bolo, Dirty Dirty Dirty!

2011-12-04T23:24:00.004+05:30

This Friday afternoon, after buying the 55-rupee ticket for Rs100 at Gaiety from Abdul Bhai (name changed to protect identity), we had a short chat. He was glad. The movie had opened really well. Standing at the gate of the iconic theatre, as if he owns the premise, he was also aware of the 'House Full' status of Chandan Cinema at Juhu. "Vidya Balan has pulled it off amazingly, carrying the film on her shoulders!" - he beamed.

Vidya Balan - the casting choice that had shocked us all, has proved to be the only reason to watch the film, so much so that it's difficult to imagine some other actress playing this role. With possibly one of the most unforgettable female roles in Hindi Cinema, she has successfully obliterated my judgment of the film. It was quiet an emotional experience for me, because I was not just watching her act or perform, but also wondering what the actress would have gone through in order to do what she did. Thanks to the inconsistent writing of the film, I was able to detach and think and appreciate her so much more - reminding myself of her filmography and admiring her guts to do something as outrageously bold as this. The fact that I found her barely titillating or 'hot' helped me think of her as a woman rather than an object of desire - which could have hardly happened with some other actress. The film surely failed to do justice to her, but perhaps I didn't mind that. The 'hero' had overawed me, and that experience was more than what I had expected. Just one scene can summarize my opinion of the film - the pre-interval 'award function' scene. I would have hated that scene in the screenplay and no one in the world could have convinced me that it will work. Vidya Balan did, by making the scene memorable and by making the scene her own, and going well beyond it. She surely goes well beyond the picture as well.

Another interesting question is troubling me for the past two days, since I watched this film - how else could have the writer approached the character? The writing was truly one-dimensional and devoid of any depth that this fascinating character apparently promises. But then was there any other option? I may be wrong, but the character in real life must have been frankly superficial, kind of disillusioned, and must have gone through terrifying conflicts from within - trapped in the whirlpool that she created for instant 'success', going deep with every passing day, till the time she could not afford staying alive. To treat this character truthfully would have resulted in a dark and disturbing psychological drama, with the protagonist so flawed that we could have only pitied her. Instead, the writer decided to project her as an underdog, an optimistic dreamer, with smart and quick decision-making abilities, and charm and confidence. Under the garb of her 'bindaas' attitude, the writer managed to cover the disillusioned, superficial character she was, and made sure the audience rooted for her. Though I want to determine a better approach of writing this character, the choice made by the writer was perhaps the only way to make a commercial entertainer out of it. The black marketeers should thank him for the same reason for which the critics are being harsh in their reviews. It is, after all, for the makers (including the writer) to decide what they would like to hear - "More Dirty, Less Picture" from a critic, or "Haan bolo, Dirty Dirty Dirty!" from those swarming at the gates of single screen theatres, reaping the great opening the film has made.

Old Enough for School

2011-11-26T02:20:00.004+05:30

Three years ago I was living the most challenging phase of my life.

I had completed my MBBS, after flunking the Gynaecology paper once. But was not out of college, as I needed lakhs of rupees for breaking the bond of not serving in the army as a doctor. I had not started my Medical Internship and wasn’t planning to. People I hardly cared about were successfully instigating the people I cared about, and both groups regretfully believed I had gone hopelessly insane. The documentary film project, that I had got within one week of landing to this city, was stuck. I was living in a small one-room flat at Dahisar with my Mom and brother, though my little room at AFMC Boys Hostel was still under my name. That sequence of this life’s wonderful movie was full of unhealthy melodrama, albeit without any background score. Worst of all, I was waiting for it to get over, like a helpless protagonist, who can do nothing by himself, except keeping faith.

It was then that I chanced upon a blog by one of my juniors. And that made me think – should I start a blog of my own? Should I use this medium to stimulate my creativity and gain some motivation? A blog of my poems, or just random ramblings about things I see and observe. No, I argued. That would be making my egotistical nature ‘officially’ available for the world. If I start blogging, it should be something about others, rather than me. And then, like it has often happened, Cinema came to my rescue.

I wrote four small posts within the first three days of starting this blog, which I proudly named – ‘Cinema is Forever’. I didn’t know what it was going to lead to, just this – I would dedicatedly use this space to celebrate Cinema, without actively publicizing it.

That was 22nd of November, 2008. Today, three years later, this blog has become an essential part of my existence. I constantly try to come up with something every now and then, working hard to score low on egotism, opinionated views, uni-dimensional criticism, and trying my best not to show off – though I doubt if I always succeed! This blog has become a platform to vent out my ‘reading’ of the medium, and the joy of the same. During my hostel days in school and then at AFMC, for close to a decade, movies had been my most favourite topic of conversation, in the dormitories, at mess tables, in the dissection hall, the hospital wards, everywhere. This blog makes sure that the ritual continues – in a more formal way, perhaps, but with equal conviction and enthusiasm. But even more importantly, this blog, and its modest number of ‘followers’ and ‘page views’, inspire me to a continual study of Cinema and its numerous facets. On turning three, I suppose, this little blog is ready to go to school now!

This post, unlike most, is very personal and uninhibitedly egotistical. But on the occasion of the Third Anniversary of this blog, I allowed myself this indulgence. Many of my earlier posts appear amateurish to me today, and my struggle with the English language continues. But that is the fun of it – trying to do something passionately without the insecurity of being judged, and hoping to improve with time. I should have written this post a couple of days ago, but was busy shooting a short film. After the last day of shoot, I watched two movies at PVR – George Clooney’s ‘The Ides of March’ (2011) and a special screening of Martin Scorsese’s ‘GoodFellas’ (1990). There could not have been a better way to celebrate this anniversary. A post can always come later to share the experience and the unending love for the ‘most beautiful fraud on earth’.

Context and Subtext of ‘Sleepy John’

2011-11-19T00:25:00.002+05:30

Using songs with a great context is something Hindi cinema has traditionally been proud of. But this trend has been gradually disappearing. So, it was wonderful to watch ‘Kun Faaya Kun’ and ‘Hawaa Hawaa’ in ‘Rockstar’ – two songs, among others, to have been used with great contextual significance. However, it is ‘Hawaa Hawaa’ that impressed me the most – and the reason is that it went beyond the context into an intelligently communicated subtext. And this inspired me to write this post.

Spoiler Alert: Please do not read further if you have not watched ‘Rockstar’ and plan to.

When Janardan (Jordan) reaches Prague for a cross-cultural music show, he meets Heer – now married but not happily so. She is not well and seems to have lost interest in the ‘fun’ of life – a taste of which she had had in the dirty bylanes of Delhi where she had spent a few weeks with Jordan. Now, he inspires her again to do all that she wants to do. And they make a plan. What follows is a song, ‘Hawaa Hawaa’, with local street musicians, while a montage shows us Jordan and Heer visiting the forbidden places of pleasure – the cheapest of bars, striptease clubs, red-light areas and all, and the two enjoy that time with a childlike rebellion against the social norms. We are not supposed to approve of what they are doing, especially because Heer has not informed her husband or in-laws, but we do not complain either. These two are like innocent and harmless rebels, who only want to have some fun and do not care about the ‘norms’ of society. (This is also in tune with the theme of the movie, and the mid-point of Jordan’s relation with Heer, and thus works very well here).

However, I’m not sure how many of the audience paid attention to the lyrics of the above-mentioned song, which underlines this sequence with a great subtext. The song is based on ‘Sleepy John’ – a local folk legend of Czech culture. Click here to read the short story. And please hear that song paying attention to the wonderful words.

The lyrics have been adapted for the film. It tells the story of a queen who wears out twelve pairs of shoes every night. The king gets suspicious and tries to find out where she goes. It is discovered that every night she descends into hell and dances with devils, uninhibitedly, unashamedly. The king is shocked to hear this and prohibits the queen from leaving the palace. The queen replies by saying that she is not happy confined within these walls of gold. She wants to be free and is willing let go of all wealth for freedom. As she says this, the earth gives way to her and she descends into hell forever, to live with ‘bad people’. And then she dances freely ever after…

P.S. I only wish the intended subtext behind the film were as beautifully and convincingly portrayed as this song. I would have loved the film then.

Childhood Forever

2011-11-14T22:47:00.006+05:30

"Steven Spielberg's films tend to convey a certain "heaviness" with regard to adult life but joy and belief with regard to the children. He is at his most effective in his films that focus on childhood... and in films where the adults act like enthusiastic adolescents..."

Thus begins ‘Childhood Forever’ – the chapter on Steven Spielberg in the book ‘The Director’s Idea’ by Ken Dancyger. The point made by the author appears very interesting and valid to me. If I could summarize the discussion, it would be this:

• Choice of Stories: For Spielberg, plot is the most powerful narrative element, standing above and beyond character. He makes sure not to limit himself with a simple, logical progression of plot, but keeps thickening it, using it to challenge his protagonist, each step being more dangerous than the last. And thus he prefers genres like action adventures, thrillers, and war films.

• Choice of Characters: Generally, the protagonist is ‘ordinary’ and easy to identify with. His actions are elevated to heroic levels because of a powerful antagonist, who often tends to be cartoonish or one dimensional. Women characters have youthful spunkiness and looks compatible with their ordinary-looking male partners. Spielberg always works with children – expressive, energetic, curious, and always creative. These kids are never lonely or troubled with problems of life, but with the conflict of the story. Spielberg also always has at least one larger than life supporting character who provides the charisma lacking in the other adult main characters.

• Approach to the Medium of Cinema: Spielberg, like Hitchcock, is playful with the medium and his joy in filmmaking yields a special experience for his audience. The most obvious result of this is that Spielberg is the single most successful commercial filmmaker in film history.

• The Craft: His use of camera and edit is guided by a simple principle – keep the story clear, moving, and exciting. The narrative clarity is extremely important – what is happening at every moment, as is dramatic punctuation. He also makes sure that we ‘stay’ with his characters and never forget whose point-of-view we are experiencing at any moment.

• Favourite Element in his Films: Spielberg loves pure action. He always creates breathtaking sequences of chase – rendering every moment so clearly that we always know who is winning or losing at what point. He often defies logic to make such sequences more exciting – which also explains every other point mentioned above. His choice of stories and characters, and his perpetual joy to play with the wonderful medium lead to their glorious best in sequences like these.

‘Jurassic Park’ was the first Hollywood movie I saw as a kid. Till date, purely for its nostalgia value, it remains one of my favourite films. I do feel like a child when I think of that wonderland of dinosaurs. Watched Spielberg’s latest ‘The Adventures of Tintin’ this morning. I’m generally not keen on watching animation and/or 3D movies. This was both, and yet, I loved it. The facial expressions and body language of the characters were so genuine that my usual complain with the ‘fakeness’ of animation movies was taken care of. I had not consciously planned to watch it on Children’s Day. It just happened. That’s life’s screenplay for you!

The First Third of a Long and Blessed Journey

2011-11-14T01:33:00.003+05:30

Almost exactly a year ago, I had written a post celebrating my 250th movie from TSPDT's list of 1000 Greatest Movies of all time. A little while ago I finished watching 'Spartacus', my 334th movie from the list. I am glad to have finished one-third of this long and blessed journey of watching the greatest films.

'Spartacus' is also my twelfth and last Kubrick feature (not counting the 72-min long, least-seen 'Fear and Desire' that the director himself disowned later) and my 210th film this year (not counting the not-good ones).

Following are the last 10 movies that helped me reach the figure of 334. It features some of the biggest names, and thus looks good!

'Strangers on a Train' (1951) by Alfred Hitchcock
'El' (1952) by Luis Bunuel
'Kes' (1969) by Ken Loach
'The Last Temptation of Christ' (1988) by Martin Scorsese
'Jaws' (1975) by Steven Spielberg
'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre' (1948) by John Huston
'The Wrong Man' (1956) by Alfred Hitchcock
'The Bridge on the River Kwai' (1957) by David Lean
'Wild at Heart' (1990) by David Lynch
'Spartacus' (1960) by Stanley Kubrick

Looking forward to reaching the 400-mark. By this rate, it should happen about a year from now.

The Fundamental Need for Catharsis

2011-11-09T00:04:00.003+05:30

“… cinema’s preeminence is arguably due to its unparalleled power to make us see and feel from another’s point of view. Through the screen, we can temporarily become braver, funnier, stronger, angrier, more beautiful, more vulnerable, or more beset with danger and tragedy. A good movie sends us out energized and refreshed in spirit. This cathartic contact with the trials of the human spirit is a need as fundamental as eating, breathing, or making love. Art, of which the cinema is but the youngest form, nourishes our spirit by engaging us in surrogate emotional experience and implying underlying patterns.”

Just today I read this passage from a wonderful book I’m reading these days. It’s called ‘Directing: Film Techniques and Aesthetics’ and is written by Michael Rabiger. It’s a great book because it insists on and inspires to, over several chapters, find an authorial voice, a compassionate heart, and a storyteller’s knack. I’m already one-third into it, and the technical aspects of film-making are yet to begin. I’m looking forward to that as well, but one thing is certain – it’ll be these early chapters that I’ll keep revisiting, for years to come.

I was especially affected by the above-mentioned lines by the author. I had never thought of cinema in this way, though it makes so much sense now. It is as if you already knew something, but never realized you knew that until someone pointed it out to you. Thank you, Mr. Rabiger.

And I feel so lucky to have watched Nanni Moretti’s ‘The Son’s Room’ (2001) on the day that I read these lines. The movie is a warm and moving tale of a family trying to cope up with the loss of a loved one. Using a simplistic design, but some unforgettable characters, it does take you through a ‘surrogate emotional experience’ and you do end up ‘refreshed in spirit’. Movies like these are like a rare beautiful dinner with your loved ones, like one odd evening at a quiet beach, like writing a simple but personal poem after a long, long time – you don’t know how much you needed them, until you actually made time for such experiences. I would like to share these lines from the song 'By this River' by Brian Eno that features in this film. It is brilliant in the context of the film. Do watch it soon!

“Here we are stuck by this river,
You and I underneath a sky
That’s ever falling down, down, down,
Ever falling down…

"Through the day as if on an ocean,
Waiting here always failing to remember
Why we came, came, came,
I wonder why we came…

"You talk to me as if from a distance
And I reply with impressions chosen
From another time, time, time
From another time…”

One More, for the Poet

2011-11-08T22:20:00.004+05:30

This is going to be a long post. But I cannot help it. For the first time I’m writing a second post on the music of a film. And I had to, for the wonderful lyrics of ‘Rockstar’, because they are the latest elements to enrich the already beautiful world of mine. So let’s begin with a few lines from the album:

तुम लोगों की इस दुनिया में हर कदम पे है इंसान ग़लत...
मैं सही समझ के जो भी करूँ, तुम कहते हो ग़लत....
मैं ग़लत हूँ तो फिर कौन सही?
मर्ज़ी से जीने की भी मैं क्या तुम सब को अर्जी दूँ?
मतलब कि तुम सब का मुझपे मुझ से भी ज्यादा हक़ है?

With these words begins ‘Saadda Haq’ – a song that truly incorporates the essence of Rock music in a Hindi film song, perhaps for the first time. The words that follow always instigate and provogue a relatively calm person like me. I wonder what it can do to the restless bundles of youthful energy out there, for whom it might become the latest anthem. Here it continues…

इन कतारों में, या उधारों में, तुम मेरे जीने की आदत का क्यूँ घोंट रहे दम,
बेसलीका मैं, उस गली का मैं, ना जिस में हया, ना जिस में शरम...
मन बोले – रस्में जीने का हर्जाना, दुनिया दुश्मन, सब बेगाना, इन्हें आग लगाना,
मन बोले, मन बोले – मन से जीना या मर जाना.....

Still no set pattern, no obvious rhyme scheme, but so much of powerful poetry, and so true to the genre. And the best is to come…

ओ इको-फ्रेंडली, नेचर के रक्षक, मैं भी हूँ नेचर...
रेवाजों से, समाजों से क्यूँ तू काटे मुझे, क्यूँ बाँटे मुझे इस तरह?
क्यूँ सच का सबक सिखाए, जब सच सुन भी ना पाए?
सच कोई बोले तो तू नियम-क़ानून बताए!
तेरा डर, तेरा प्यार, तेरी वाह – तू ही रख!

Of course we have to credit the music director for composing such a popular song out of these lines, and the singer for expressing it so powerfully in his voice, but I find it amazing how Irshad Kamil, the brilliant lyricist of our time, has managed to express the inherent angst of a Rock number using a language that is not naturally capable of doing that. Writing something that is simple yet powerful, youthfully rebellious yet not unreasonable or ridiculous, popular yet profound – all of this in Hindi language for a film song is extremely difficult. It’s not a surprise that we do not have many such songs in our film history.

‘Rockstar’ has a strong voice in its songs. The above-mentioned song expresses a rebellion, loudly, uninhibitedly. And the following song uses the same character in a different situation, a passion-filled moment:

मेरी बेबसी का बयान है, बस चल रहा न इस घडी,
रस हसरत का निचोड़ दूँ, कस बाहों में आ तोड़ दूँ,
चाहूँ क्या जानूँ न, छीन लूँ, छोड़ दूँ, इस लम्हे क्या कर जाऊं?
इस लम्हे क्या कर दूँ मैं जो मुझे चैन मिले, आराम मिले?...
तुझे पहली बार मैं मिलता हूँ हर दफा...

And then, ironically, there is this song about the inability to express….

जो भी मैं कहना चाहूँ बर्बाद करें अलफ़ाज़ मेरे,
ओ या या, या या या, या या या......
कभी मुझे लगे कि जैसे सारा ही ये जहाँ है जादू, जो है भी और नहीं भी है,
ये फिजा, हवा, घटा, बहारें – मुझे करें इशारे ये,
कैसे कहूँ कहानी मैं इनकी?
जो भी मैं कहना चाहूँ बर्बाद करें अलफ़ाज़ मेरे,
ओ या या, या या या, या या या......

Whether it is the confused flight of a wanderer (रंग-बिरंगे वहमों में मैं उड़ता फिरूँ....) or the blessed togetherness of lovers (तुम हो पास मेरे, साथ मेरे तुम हो यूँ, जितना महसूस करूँ तुमको उतना ही पा भी लूँ...) the poet appears to have felt each of these different emotions and has expressed himself in the intimately personal way only poets can. There are also, a couple of fun songs, especially impressive being an adaptation of ‘Sleepy John’ – a folk legend of Czech culture. In this song the play of sounds is amazing and infectious – I wish to memorize it and keep singing aloud. And then, like almost all Rahman albums of these times, we have a voice of the Sufis….

रंगरेजा रंग मेरा तन मेरा मन, ले ले रंगाई चाहे तन चाहे मन....
सजरा सवेरा मेरे तन बरसे, कजरा अँधेरा तेरी जलती लौ,
कतरा मिला जो तेरे दर पर से, ओ मौला.....

जब कहीं पे कुछ नहीं भी नहीं था, वही था, वही था, वही था, वही था.....

हो मुझपे करम सरकार तेरा, अर्ज़ तुझे – कर दे मुझे मुझ से ही रिहा,
अब मुझे भी हो दीदार मेरा, कर दे मुझे मुझ से ही रिहा....

Hindi cinema is fast losing its glorious tradition of songs, and good ones have become so much rarer. But when an album like this comes, it suddenly changes our personal worlds – our homes start ‘sounding’ different. These songs carry in themselves the proud tradition of Hindi poetry and film lyrics, and supported with great modern music and a purposeful voice, they start breathing like lovable beings. Receiving them begins essentially with our initial superficial reaction to the music, and this time too, like many Rahman creations, it was full of confusion and dissatisfaction. But then the songs start growing, and finally one day you pay slightly more attention to the words – the day when the unsung poet rises – and his expression completes the experience. I am confident that the director, Imtiaz Ali, has had a big role to play in the success of this album. And it is immensely satisfying to see the super-talented Mohit Chauhan rising up to the opportunity to literally be the ‘voice’ of the album and confirming himself as one of the finest singers today. The music of ‘Rockstar’ has been a wonderful experience. I only hope the movie does not turn out to be ordinary – because that will spoil the pure experience of listening to its songs. A year ago I was in love with the music of ‘Guzaarish’ and after watching the movie I have hardly ever played those songs. I didn’t do it intentionally. Guess a not-so-good movie is still powerful enough to spoil things. Hoping ‘Rockstar’ is not one of them.

The Evolution of the Best

2011-11-08T14:04:00.002+05:30

These lines open the music album of one of the most eagerly awaited films of the year.

फिर से उड़ चला,

उड़ के छोड़ा है जहान नीचे,

मैं तुम्हारे अब हूँ हवाले हवा...
अब दूर-दूर लोग-बाग, मीलों दूर ये वादियाँ...
फिर धुआँ-धुआँ तन, हर बदली चली आती है छूने...
पर कोई बदली कभी कहीं कर दे तन गीला ये भी ना हो...

Beautiful poetry, but I hope you notice the lack of any structure or rhyme scheme in it – so much so that it hardly appears to be song. It is fluid, and relies more on its inspiring content and the magic of phonation. This summarizes my opinion on the brilliant sound-track of ‘Rockstar’. A R Rahman is not only ‘back with a bang’ and has reaffirmed that ‘he is the best’, but has improved upon himself, and has come up with something so surprisingly new, even from his standards. Please do not take these words to mean that I consider ‘Rockstar’ as the maestro’s best work. Let me make myself clearer.

There is something about great artists – whether they desire for it or not, they tend to go beyond their individual creations. Watching individual great movies is fun, but what I truly cherish is something from the filmography of a great filmmaker – and read it not only as the movie per se, but by understanding its place in the filmmaker’s career. So even a lesser film by Luis Bunuel is important because it helps us understand, or at least speculate, how it helped in the shaping up of the master’s career. Today when the Coen Brothers make a genre film like ‘True Grit’ (2010), we read it as their attempt to break free from their comfort zone. This is also the reason why I loved Darren Aronofsky’s ‘The Wrestler’ (2008), which disappointed some of my friends who worship his other works which are way more complex and philosophical.

So when Pandit Ravi Shankar plays a certain Raaga, our main interest is to observe ‘how’ he does it, ‘what more’ does he add to it. When the experts on cricket discuss the style of Sachin Tendulkar, the most fascinating thing for them is how he has managed to weave in subtle variations in his method and approach, something that has enhanced his longevity under all conditions and, most importantly, has enabled him to stay at the top for such a long time when other great batsmen have come, ruled and retired. That in my opinion is the evolution of the best – or perhaps, the evolution required to remain the best.

For the past half-a-decade or so, Rahman has surprised us with his attempts to go beyond his usually great work. A lot of such efforts did not please me initially – it took me some time to realize that he is more concerned about surprising and outdoing himself than impressing us. That took some time, and a couple of years went by without any phenomenal music album by him (the last great album by him in my opinion was ‘Delhi 6’). But now when he is back, with a director who has always had an ear for pleasant, yet surprisingly different music (listen to the songs of ‘Socha Na Tha’), a lyricist who is one of those rare poets in Hindi films today, and a film about music – Rahman has delivered one of the best works of his extraordinary career. Not only it has an amazing mix of genres, and the songs appear to be emoting – of love, rebellion, and spiritual enlightenment, the most striking feature for me is how confidently and successfully he is abandoning structure and composing songs which are fluid and complex, but still hummable and potentially popular. The music of ‘Rockstar’ reminds you so much of the magician we have loved for two decades now, but it also establishes him as a genius who refuses to settle down and whose quest for perfection continues. He has made me greedier, and I am looking forward to his next album now – ‘what more can he do’ has become my pleasant concern as a lover of his music.

The New Blockbuster

2011-11-01T10:44:00.007+05:30

Watched Steven Spielberg’s ‘Jaws’ (1975) only yesterday. Though I knew what to expect, and I love almost all major films made by him, it left me a little disappointed – there was this certain flavor of a ‘commercial’ movie that spoiled my experience. I must explain here that I love well-made commercial cinema. But when the elements to make a film popular are too apparent and on-the-face, I get a feeling of dishonesty. To add to that, ‘Jaws’, in my opinion, suffers from poor editing (ironically it grabbed an Oscar for that). The edit was spectacular and not true to the dramatic and emotional flow of the film. I could never feel for the characters, despite some gimmicks like the protagonist being slapped in public by the woman who lost her child to the shark. Rising tension, building up of suspense, which are so critical for horror-suspense genre was missing. Even a brilliantly created sequence like the one at the beach where Chief is the only person worried about the shark, and the above-mentioned boy is killed, has the feel of a very deliberate editing. May be I was expecting too much. May be I’m thinking too much. But somehow, I’m always put off by such films where one moment the hero is scared and fighting the villain with stylish valour, and the very next moment he shares a one-line joke and laughs like he has nothing to worry about. So after the climactic ordeal, when the two characters in ‘Jaws’ look at each other and start laughing, I’m sorry – that was just too much for me.

‘Jaws’ however is widely considered as one of the greatest films ever made. And when I read about it, I got something very interesting to share, especially relevant in the context of the most talked-about and widely debated movie playing in the theatres today, our very own ‘Ra. One’. The rest of my post is still about ‘Jaws’ but can be read with the perspective of ‘Ra. One’.

‘Jaws’ was one of the first ‘high-concept’ films – that rely on a brief catchy premise powerful enough to inspire the making, and attract financing. ‘Snakes on a Plane’ – the name itself describes the film and its commercial potential. Such films rely on a fantastic idea – ‘what if we could clone dinosaurs?’ ( ‘Jurassic Park’), so much so that generally the character development suffers. This is not universally true (‘Inception’ is a high-concept film with well-developed characters), but generally, and with ‘Jaws’ I could exactly feel that.

However, the historical significance of ‘Jaws’ is much more than that. It is considered a landmark film for a very special reason. The term ‘blockbuster’ was initially used for films that performed exceptionally well at the box-office. With ‘Jaws’ a new definition came into being. Quoting from Wikipedia: “ …the usage of 'blockbuster' for films coalesced around Steven Spielberg's Jaws, and became perceived as something new: a cultural phenomenon, a fast-paced exciting entertainment, almost a genre. Audiences interacted with such films, talked about them afterwards, and went back to see them again just for the thrill.” This is interesting to me – ‘Blockbuster’ as a genre. When ‘Jaws’, made at only $9 million, grossed fifty times its budget at the box-office, it had set a new record, and kick-started the ‘summer blockbuster’ trend. Next summer it was ‘The Omen’ (1976), and then it was ‘Star Wars’ (1977) that forced studios to release a big movie during the summer months for instant revenue. This can easily be likened to the current trend in our country where big movies are released around Diwali, Id, and Christmas and make it big by cashing on the ‘festival blockbuster’ phenomenon.

‘Jaws’ is also an important film in the history of film distribution and marketing, as it was the first to successfully use the ‘wide release’ distribution pattern. Before this film, they relied on slow opening and word-of-mouth. Even a hugely successful film like ‘The Godfather’ had opened in only a handful of theatres. ‘Jaws’ changed that – it was released simultaneously on hundreds of screens, with a big nation-wide marketing campaign. It was the first film to extensively use TV for its promotion. Within the first weekend of its release, it had grossed an amount almost equal to its budget.

Cultural phenomenon, commercial landmark, father of the summer blockbuster, marking the beginning of a new business model – with these terms used to discuss this movie, we are forced to look at it from a different perspective. Its contribution to cinema, the costliest and riskiest form of human expression, is no less. Movies like this ensure at least one thing – the trend of going to movie theatres will continue. If such fantastic festival money-spinners are not made, and we limit ourselves to dramas, theatres will soon be obsolete and the audiences will choose to experience cinema sitting in their drawing rooms. I dread at that thought!

Gurudev Uvaacha #2

2011-10-30T22:25:00.002+05:30

“To create the Storyteller, you have to bring alive not only the telling, but also the tale—that is, you must give the narrative the integrity of a quirky human mind that sees, weighs, wonders, feels, and supposes while the story unfolds. Do this successfully, and your work will have the humor and intelligence of work with a human character. In the struggle for high-concept plotting, filmmaking’s factory processes often trample the humanity out of their work. Few films have the feeling of a human soul, but when they do, audiences universally respond. It takes a director with a clear, strong identity—one not overwhelmed by the people and the procedures.”

- Michael Rabiger in his wonderful book 'Directing - Film Techniques and Aesthetics'.

Mumbai 2011 Epilogue: That Low Feeling

2011-10-23T22:40:00.001+05:30

The last evening at MAMI always leaves me sad. This time I also felt guilty, of not being able to watch as many movies as I could. I could watch only 28. The factors were many: some technical problems with the screenings, the need to miss one movie in order to stand in the queue of another, missing the morning shows because of remaining awake all night, among others. But if I could sit through 35 movies during my first MAMI, when I had to travel every day for 3-4 hours and eat bad food, I don’t think any number of excuses can defend my low score.

The good thing, however, is that I am not saturated with movies unlike my first MAMI. And I can start my one movie a day routine soon. Also, I have started working immediately, and it feels as if a new professional year has started.

This time there were so many people I knew at MAMI. The number will only increase every subsequent year. So basically, when MAMI ends, you don’t only miss that madness and the movies, you also miss the company of those people, who for that one week share the biggest passion of your life. And hence the hormonal system of the body makes you feel low. The next day after the last most of us were feeling really bad. We needed something to cheer us up. And then some of my students started thinking of organizing a mini-fest at their place. I won’t be able to join them for that, but have selected the movies and prepared a schedule for them, including the ‘opening’ and ‘closing’ films. I hope they remain inspired and get caught in this vicious cycle of the craving for good cinema. The fest should continue, with or without the hormonal surges.

Mumbai 2011 Day #7: Not Satisfied with Myself

2011-10-23T22:22:00.003+05:30

I had high expectations from ‘Restless’, since it is a Gus Van Sant film. It’s always interesting to see him attempt different genres, and this time it was a warm and funny reflection on death. I especially liked the end of the movie.

‘Tomboy’ generated a huge applause from the audience. This is the kind of movie you instantly fall in love with. I also appreciated how an intense and difficult topic like this was treated so interestingly. This film festival was full of films featuring children, and ‘Tomboy’ featured some of the best.

My closing film was ‘Once Upon a Time in Anatolia’. I found it difficult, but it was obviously good. I mean, I could understand that it has something, but couldn’t determine that something. This and ‘Sleeping Sickness’ will be two movies I would like to watch again and read about in order to appreciate better.

My final score was 28 in seven days. I’m not at all satisfied with myself. And now I can only hope of bettering it the next year.

Mumbai 2011 Day #6: Healers and Healing

2011-10-19T23:48:00.003+05:30

Out of the three movies that I watched today, three intimately dealt with doctors and the medical profession. Needless to say, terms like 'Transient Ischaemic Attack' and 'Epidural Anaesthesia' do convey something to me despite my lost touch with medicine. So, i don't mind watching cinema featuring healers and healing!

'Best Intentions' (Romania, 2011) was a little demanding to begin with and inspired a major walkout by a good chunk of delegates. But by the time it ended, all of us could relate to the experience - how we react to a situation when a loved one is undergoing hospitalization and treatment, and how everyone around us tries to help with advice. All, doctors and well-wishers, of course have only 'best intentions' in mind!

'Sleeping Sickness' (Germany, 2011) was an extremely difficult film. It won the Best Director award at Berlin film festival this year. Apparently, it talked about a German doctor working in Cameroon for years, but I felt the movie had something more that we couldn't appreciate. At least the final act was baffling beyond words.

'Declaration of War' (France, 2011) was perhaps the most 'commercial' movie I saw during this fest. The story of a couple dealing with the ailment of their baby was treated in a surprisingly funny way, and their spirit was truly inspiring. The treatment of the film however was very 'Bollywoodish' (not in a bad sense). They even had one lip-synced romantic song!

I selected 'Savage' (Sweden, 2011) because of its title. The festival experience is never complete without one movie of brutal violence. And the climax of this movie, a story of four young adults driven by their animal instincts being forced to confirm with the society, did fulfill my desire - a shocking scene of two insane murders gave me the high I was looking for.

As a final note, I must share this beautiful feeling I have during most modern movies from World Cinema. For the first 15-20 minutes, not much sense can be made, but slowly, once you sit through the most difficult and demanding moments, a narrative emerges, organically, and then everything starts making sense. It happens sooner if you realize the 'motive' or the 'worldview' of the director early into the film, and then if you play it from the beginning every scene will make sense. It is this self-assured, purposeful though demanding, nature of these movies that always challenge and fascinate me as a viewer.

Mumbai 2011 Day #5: Magic Continues...

2011-10-19T01:30:00.005+05:30

Jahnu Barua's 'Aparoopa' (1982) has become my first Assamese film. Loved it. The Q&A with the director that followed, as my friend said, 'completed the experience'. As he recalled the making of his first film when he was just 26, his enthusiasm was infectious.

The Spanish film 'Even the Rain' (2010) evoked in me the strongest emotional reaction. One of the best 'films on films' you are going to watch.

Poetic and profound, 'Stories Only Exist When Remembered' (2011) was so inspiring for me. The first-time director Julia Murat was present and she answered our questions after the movie. I will always like to remember her as the calm, mature, and down-to-earth person as she is. Wishing her all the best for future - I'll eagerly await her movies.

Lars Von Trier's latest, 'Melancholia' (2011), left me stunned. I wasn't expecting something like that. I feel fortunate to have watched on big-screen this movie that, in the decades to come, will be considered so important!

Just two more days to go.... Already feeling sad. And my score: 21 movies in five days. Not very good...

Mumbai 2011 Day #4: Thanks, Cinema!

2011-10-18T02:45:00.003+05:30

When you watch several movies in one day, each from different part of the globe, the cultural perspective you gain is incredibly interesting. Without physically travelling, you get to know about people and places and practices that amaze you. This, at least for beginners, can be one of the greatest motivations to explore world cinema.

So a person like me, who has never traveled abroad, watches 'Death is my Profession' (2011, Iran), 'The Mountain' (2011, Norway), or 'The Mirror Never Lies' (2011, Indonesia), three different stories set in different socio-cultural spaces, he can not feel anything but fortunate. Each such experience only enhances our perspective of life and being alive.

So here is my perspective on my 'movie of the day'...

German master Wim Wenders' latest offering 'Pina' is a non-fiction film dedicated to the German dancer-performer Pina Bausch in 3D. Other dancers, who have worked with her or learnt from her, talk about Pina and her passion, and perform in her honour. This film was till date the most eagerly awaited film of the festival and there were people standing in the queue for hours before the late night repeat screening of the movie. Some of them had already watched it a few hours ago and waited for a re-watch. When my show ended, I was dying to watch it all over again...

For me it was not a documentary or a dance-movie, it was perhaps one of the most inspiring experiences of my life. I envied those talking about Pina, her proteges and colleagues, because I never had the fortune to spend any time with someone like her in my life. And I did dare to aspire for a fraction of her passion and hard work. Though I should be the worst dancer alive, the movie affected me on a more general level, at the level of a man's spiritual relationship with his life's passion. Please watch it as soon as you can. Some things might just change within and around you. Amen!

Mumbai 2011 Day #3: More About Children...

2011-10-17T02:03:00.004+05:30

Sleep deprivation and long days are making it difficult for me to write detailed blog posts about the movies. Plus I also have to evaluate the exam papers of my UC students. So I'd rather be brief here, reporting my 3rd day....

'Toast' (2010): A British drama about the boy who grew to become Nigel Slater, a popular food writer and journalist...

'The Monster's Dinner' (2011): A dark Turkish satire on the present and future of the humankind... (it was great to talk to the director after the film)

'First Time for Everything' (2011): A minimalistic Russian drama about a young boy's bonding with his Dad... (met the child actor later!)

'Yelling to the Sky' (2011): An independent American coming-of-age film about a girl of a white Irish father and a black mother...

13 movies in 3 days... good enough!

P.S. It is interesting to watch so many different movies dealing with the issue of problem child and their coming of age... This is one of the most universal topics for cinema...

Mumbai 2011 Day #2: The High I Could Die For...

2011-10-17T01:29:00.006+05:30

On the 2nd day, after watching five amazing movies, I already feel satisfied with this year's festival. Anything more will just be bonus...

'Omar Gatalato' (1977): An Algerian film, unforgettable for its documentary style, and its protagonist who looked straight from a Godard film ... and also for the scene where Mehboob Khan's 'Aan' is being screened - a French dubbed version for the Algerian crowd. But the songs - 'Aaj mere mann mein sakhi' and 'Dil mein chhupa ke pyaar ka' were in Hindi! The protagonist Omar loved Hindi film songs!!!

'Swayamvaram' (1973): Finally I watched my first Adoor Gopalkrishnan film, one more filmmaker apart from Ray and Ghatak who can match the world standards. This film also reminding me of 'Apur Sansar' - aesthetically it was as good as that; plus the story revolved around a newly-wed couple trying to survive in the city life, the hero wanted to be a writer, and the actress at times resembled Sharmila Tagore!

'Generation P' (2011): an in-competition Russian film. I won't be surprised if it wins! It is extremely entertaining, its 'trips' have some incredible surreal imagery, and it very interestingly shares with us the changes in the Russian commercial society after the disintegration of the USSR. One of the must-watch movies of the year!

British master Ken Loach's 'Kes' (1969): perhaps the best film of the festival. Counted among the greatest films ever made, it tells the poignant story of a problem child who, despite his troubles and weaknesses, develops some amazing talents. The child actor David Bradley's unforgettable role would be my favourite performance of the day. And I would recommend this movie as a Must Watch Before You Die. (#22)

However, for me, as for many others, the movie of the day was 'The Artist' (2011). It is one of the most loved films of this year and will definitely score well during the upcoming awards season. For its overwhelming celebration of cinema (a tribute to the Silent Era, to the Hollywood Star and Studio System, and tributes to various classics) it wins the honour of the day over 'Kes', though in the long run I think I'll consider 'Kes' a better movie. Movies like 'The Artist' are the best illustrations for the sentiments and the spirit of this blog, and my life. Please watch it as soon as you can!

Mumbai 2011 Day #1: Fine Start, Almost...

2011-10-14T23:49:00.003+05:30

About half a dozen strangely masked humans carry on with some incomprehensible ritualistic march, till a frankly naked woman walks down the hall. She reaches an intimidating crocodile, live and menacing, waiting for her in the corner of the room. The woman looks pretty sure of herself as she faces the crocodile that then opens its mouth. Without any hesitation the woman crawls into the crocodile's mouth, and MAMI 2011 begins.

Watched four movies today, all latest offerings from world cinema. 'The Turin Horse' could have been the fifth, if the technical problems with its projection could have been sorted. Going by what I saw, it could have been the movie of the day. Hopefully they will organize its screening tomorrow and then I'll feel better. At this moment, however, I'm not feeling contended, and it's only because I could not finish this movie.

But otherwise the movies were very good. This year's Camera d'or winner at Cannes - 'Las Acacias' that told the quietly moving story of a truck driver who is taking a woman and a baby from Paraguay to Buenos Aires, was loved unanimously by the audience. The director Pablo Giorgelli was glad to present his film for the Mumbai audience and we were pleased to attend his brief Q&A after the movie.

The German movie 'Die Ausbildung' ('The Education') told the story of a young boy training at a customer care center and the people around him. I liked it for how the movie gave a glimpse of the ruthless corporate culture through a simple story. At the same time 'Pather Panchali' was being screened in the next screen. Watching it on big screen again (had watched it for the first time at AFMC Med Cine festival) was a tempting proposition and I'm not sure whether I truly not regret my decision!

'Above us only Sky' reminded me partly of Kieslowski's 'Blue', because of the situation faced by the leading lady, but mainly of Antonioni's 'L'avventura'. The film begins with a story of relationships that suddenly turns into an inexplicable mystery-thriller. But eventually, the story neglects the 'mystery' altogether and culminates as a strange and unexpected love story. The reaction by the audience was lukewarm, especially near the baffling end of the movie, but I truly loved it. Sandra Huller, playing the protagonist, is my pick for the 'performance of the day'. And the movie too was perhaps the best among the four. Perhaps, because one strong contender was the French political drama - 'The Minister'.

Watching the scene mentioned in the beginning of the post I was stunned, and excited. The movie turned out to be completely different from its opening scene, but it left me so satisfied. It was so well written, so well executed. Modern world cinema at its powerful best - that is 'The Minister'.

Excited about tomorrow - going by the schedule, it can be the best day of the festival...

Mumbai 2011: Annual Ritual Begins...

2011-10-13T23:28:00.004+05:30

My delegate pass for MAMI Film Festival 2011 is lying beside me. It looks familiar now, as it is going to be my third installment of the great experience. Everything is put aside when this week begins sometime in October every year. Everyone associated with me knows that I can not be disturbed during this time. They may not factually remember that I managed to watch 34 movies in MAMI 2009 and 27 in MAMI 2010, but they now know that is is my binge time, the biggest celebration, an annual ritual....

Though the venue will be again new (MAMI keeps changing its main venue), there will be so many known faces - film buffs from Mumbai who know each other only through this annual festival. And every year more acquaintances join in. This year I hope some of my students will experience something like this for the first time, and some of them surely, will change for good.

The Opening Movie of the festival was screened this evening - Bennett Miller's 'Moneyball', starring Brad Pitt. As always, the entry was restricted to 'invitations only', and unlike last year I couldn't get any pass. Don't mind, though. This movie will surely be released in India sometime soon. And moreover, I have spent the evening trying to wrap up all pending work. Finally I'm set to experience another overdose of cinema - hope the seven hours I've spent in selecting the movies proves to be fruitful!

Baat Nikalegi Toh...

2011-10-10T12:33:00.003+05:30

“Waqt rehta nahin kahin tik kar, iski aadat bhi aadmi-si hai, Aaj phir aapki kami-si hai…”

These lines in your voice have suddenly acquired an altogether new meaning. Perhaps the news was so unexpected that I couldn’t handle it. Or may be I had taken you for granted – that you are always going to be with us. This happens with family, right?

You know you had something that made me feel I’m related to you – as if you were a dear Uncle I had never met, but always shared great love with. Perhaps it was the kindness in your voice, perhaps it was the gentle demeanour of your face. And I’m sure you made everyone feel the same. You belonged to everyone. And it was never difficult to fall in love with you.

And falling in love with you meant falling in love with your music. You have to take credit for initiating in us a love for Ghazals when we were just kids. You made it accessible for us during an age when we were not capable enough to appreciate the likes of Ghulam Ali Sa’ab and others. You took the Ghazal form to the common man, you made popular its use in cinema. You gave us that push at the right time to develop a liking for something that was apparently not ‘easy to appreciate’.

So this naturally led to more exploration of this genre from our end. Once we ‘learnt’ some more and discovered the very classical form of Ghazals there was a time when we formed a strong opinion about your music. Let me confess this, there were times when I remarked that your music is repetitive and it does not have range. Too blinded by my ‘sense’ of music, I was beginning to forget my ‘Uncle’ who had initiated me into it. Again, this happens with family. I was taking you for granted.

The 23rd of last month, on my way from Pune to Mumbai, I got a chance to listen to ‘Teri khushboo mein base khat’. It was not for the first time that I was hearing that song, but suddenly my perception of you changed. I realized what your music was about. Your music was not about the melody or the voice, but about the words. No other composer-singer has achieved this – to underplay the composition in order to render the poetry in the best possible way. You sang as if you were talking to us – sharing those words of wisdom, making, among others, Gulzar sa’ab’s thoughts reach us unadulterated. You were the dear teacher-friend who shared great poems with us and made us understand what they meant only by reciting patiently, correctly, aptly. Despite possessing one of the best voices that we ever heard, you never tried to overpower the words, to overwhelm us with your singing. And yet, you managed to develop a style of your own, inimitable, pure, genuine.

During the last few days my brother and I talked a lot about you. A couple of days ago the two of us were singing your ‘Kya khoya kya paaya jag mein’ on the footbridge over Goregaon station. Not once we thought that you’ll be gone so soon. Today I feel like a son who never paid enough attention to you, never thought of paying back, mainly because somehow this thought never came to me – that one day even you’ll be gone.

Just talked to Mom over phone, about you, about your music. And then played your music. Was feeling really bad until these lines left me thinking, as your songs have always done…

“Shehad jeene ka mila karta hai thoda-thoda, Jaane walon ke liye dil nahin thoda karte; Haath chhooten bhi toh rishte nahin chhoda karte….”

If life is an opportunity to defy death, you have surely succeeded.

Always yours.

The End of an Experience

2011-10-08T02:03:00.017+05:30

Over the last 3-4 months, I had the most fulfilling experience of my life. I was excited and apprehensive in the beginning, when I had started my ‘Understanding Cinema’ lectures at National College. Today I’m amazed to see the result – the way the students have responded. And it has nothing to do with whatever teaching-learning that happened during this time or with the short films they finally made. It is the way they reciprocated to my efforts that has elated and humbled me at the same time, with unprecedented passion, dedicated hard-work, and above all – tolerance, and humility. They are now prepared to embark on the wonderful journey of discovering the best of cinema. I wish them exciting and romantic times ahead as cinephiles.

On 26th September, which will remain an unforgettable day for me, the students screened their movies. (I will share the links of the best of those as soon as I can.) We also had a small award ceremony in the end where the best efforts were acknowledged. I could not afford buying trophies for them, so at the last minute came up with this idea. Following are the ‘awards’ that were handed out to the winners. This could not have been possible without the help of Mehar, one of my students, who designed these beautiful cards. I hope the winners liked what they got.

Wanted to share these on this blog since that evening. But two reasons kept me from doing that – one, I wanted to finish my discussion on ‘Citizen Kane’ and two, I wanted to live this beautiful emotional phase of my life before sharing it publically. Now I’m beginning to break free from the effect of the hormones, to resume the study of cinema. Hopefully, life will give me another chance to share it with a new bunch of enthusiasts. Successful films do inspire sequels, don’t they?

The Greatest Film Ever Made: Epilogue

2011-10-08T01:24:00.005+05:30

“Old age – it's the only disease, Mr. Thompson, that you don't look forward to being cured of.”

What makes someone or something great? Incredible talent, brilliant performance, innovations, influence, test of time – all of these contribute, but there is one more thing essential for that final stamp of ‘greatness’. It is the legend associated, the folklore, the paradoxes, the enigma. Whether it is the symbolism of Muhammad Ali’s fight against racial discrimination, or the tragedy of Guru Dutt – these socio-political, poetic-philosophical elements always contribute to the unanimous acceptance of something as ‘great’, and often these have nothing to do with the actual performance of the act.

So here is a story, true, unbelievable…

At the time when the Hollywood Studio System was at its powerful best, when studio executives held more power than the stars or the directors, a unique contract suddenly became the talk of the town. RKO, one of the major studios, had just offered someone to produce, direct, write, and act in two feature films, without any interference and with the privilege of the final cut – something even the most established directors could not dream of. This offer was made to a 25-year old young man and this led to phenomenal jealousy in the Hollywood community against him, whom the world later identified as Orson Welles.

Welles decided to base the first movie on the life of a newspaper tycoon – William R. Hearst, playing the lead role himself. The name of the character in the movie was Charles Foster Kane, but the Hearst connection could not be retained as a secret. Fearing a negative portrayal of himself, William Hearst attempted to buy and destroy all negatives of the film but couldn’t. He then attacked the movie through his newspaper, and threatened to retaliate against theatres that showed it. The industry was terrified. A group of studio bosses offered RKO money to burn the negative. But the studio refused.

‘Citizen Kane’ opened to extraordinary critical acclaim. And my last three posts on it, which are only a glimpse into its brilliance, should at least justify that. I still feel that the unprecedented praise by the American media had definitely something to do with the controversy surrounding its production and release.

However, the movie failed to recover its costs at the box-office. Despite several nominations, it could not win more than one Academy Award in a ceremony where it was booed and insulted. Eleven years later, in 1952, Sight and Sound magazine voted it as the 11th greatest movie of all time. A group of French critics, who were soon to kick-start the most influential film movement in world cinema, the New Wave, were praising the movie highly during the 50s, and it was revived in America in 1956. When Sight and Sound released their next list in 1962, ‘Citizen Kane’ was voted as the greatest film ever made. Since then it has retained that spot for each subsequent decade, and today it occupies the top position in almost all great movies list. The story, though, does not end here.

The film did an everlasting damage to the career of Welles. The industry had realized that this man will always place his artistic aspirations over the finances. RKO violated the same contract by taking his next film away from him and changing the ending. Welles went into a self-imposed exile in Europe for much of the rest of his career where he found a more sympathetic audience. He acted in others’ movies to raise funds for his own. Two years before he died, he accepted that he “made essentially a mistake in staying in movies”. In the end, his first movie also became a prophecy for his own life which ended lonely and unfortunately like that of his character – Charles F. Kane.

‘Citizen Kane’ in my opinion, is definitely one of the greatest American movies. It is a wonderful film text, rich, influential, enigmatic, and also, once you start understanding it, entertaining. It is a brilliant expression of an auteur, a purely original work, an aesthetic and technical watershed in cinema history. But is it greater than ‘The Godfather’, ‘Seven Samurai’, ‘8 ½’, ‘Bicycle Thieves’? I don’t know. I’m not qualified enough to comment. However, when filmmakers and scholars and critics all over the world vote it as the greatest, I better listen to them. They know the medium better than me, and they have no reason to lie! "Everyone will always owe him everything" – believes Godard about Orson Welles. And just for this reason, I also recommend this film as a must watch (#21). You can not die without watching ‘the greatest movie ever made’.

The Sound of 'Citizen Kane'

2011-10-07T00:10:00.006+05:30

“You never should've married a newspaperman, they're worse than sailors.”

Before making his first film, Orson Welles was already a name in theatre and radio, and was thus aware of the power of sound. While working on ‘Citizen Kane’ he employed all his experience to create the ‘right’ sound for the film. “If it sounds right, it’s gotta look right” – he believed. And the sound of this movie turned out to be a great achievement on its own. Here are a few examples of his innovations and imagination.

To complement his Deep Focus photography, he created ‘deep focus sound’ by carefully regulating his sound levels so that voices in the depth of the image sound farther away than voices in the foreground of the image. ‘Hear’ carefully the Colorado scene to appreciate that. Also note that in the shot that ends this scene, Kane’s sled becomes increasingly covered with snow, and the whistle of a train can be heard from a distance. It is so subtle you might miss it the first time around. But once you discover that, the image of the snow-covered sled becomes even more poignant.

Welles made his characters interrupt each other’s lines resulting in the overlapping of dialogue. He considered it more realistic than the tradition of characters not stepping on each other's sentences. Then there are scenes, like one between Kane and Susan in a tent, where apart from the characters talking, we can also hear the voices of characters around them who are not really seen (people outside the tent in this case). Welles also pioneered the J-cut, the technique of putting the audio ahead of the visual in scene transitions.

The efficient use of texture of voices is another remarkable achievement of this film. Susan’s voice is soft and warm when she first meets Kane, only to turn into high-pitched screams later. The palace of Xanadu appears even more alienating because of the reverberating echoes whenever Kane and Susan shout at each other from across the room. Also compare the might expressed through Kane’s voice during the political rally speech with the sterile flatness when he threatens Gettys.

Another brilliant innovation by Welles was the ‘Lightening Mix’. One sentence started by a person at the end of a scene is completed in the next and this new scene is at least a few years ahead in time. So, by using sound bridges, Welles devised an interesting way to signify passing of time. The best example is the Breakfast Montage where Kane and his first wife talk over the dining table and more than a decade of story time is compressed in two minutes of screen time. This scene amazes you every time you watch it.

The musical score of the film by Bernard Herrmann was also a landmark. Instead of the traditional practice of using non-stop music, Herrmann used musical cues lasting between five and fifteen seconds to bridge the action or suggest a different emotional response. This is superbly done in the Breakfast Montage. Also notice the score simulating the ticking of a clock during the bored life Susan and Kane are leading at Xanadu. Herrmann went on to become one of the prominent musicians for Hollywood, working in films like 'Vertigo', 'Psycho', and 'Taxi Driver'. But even he believes that he was at his best when he worked on this movie. If ‘Citizen Kane’ was a technical watershed, and it definitely was, its sound had as much to contribute as its cinematography.

The Cinematography of 'Citizen Kane'

2011-10-04T23:59:00.012+05:30

"There's only one person in the world to decide what I'll do. And that's me."

Film scholars and historians view ‘Citizen Kane’ as Welles' attempt to create a new style by studying various forms of movie making, and combining them all into one, though Welles himself denies that. He believes it was his ignorance that led him to those technical innovations, all of which were not essentially pioneered by this movie but eventually became inseparably associated with it. The director here does not indulge in taking stand on the Realism versus Expressionism debate, but rather uses the best of both schools in order to create his cinema. We will discuss this with respect to the cinematography of ‘Citizen Kane’.

Observe this snapshot from the scene at the Colorado home. It might be difficult to appreciate it here, but in this shot all characters are in focus – including the kid Kane playing outside (he may appear out of focus, but it’s actually snow). This kind of photography is called Deep Focus, where the depth of field is enhanced and a lot of things appear to be in focus together. How is this achieved technically – I don’t know. Some of my photographer friends can help me understand. But Deep Focus photography in cinema has now become synonymous with ‘Citizen Kane’. We read this technique as being ‘realist’ – since everything is in focus the audience can choose what to focus on without the director ‘directing’ their attention to something in particular.

The shot on the left is also an example of Deep Focus photography.

Any time Deep Focus was not possible, and I guess it has something to do with the availability of light (though I may be wrong), the makers employed other tricks to create the deep focus effect.

In this shot, Kane is in foreground and his friend Leland is at a considerable distance. Yet both appear to be in focus. This was achieved by shooting the two separately and then visually layering the films together using an optical printer.

However, notice that in this shot after Susan’s suicide attempt, the imposing bottle and glass in the foreground as well as the men entering the room are in focus, while Susan herself is out-of-focus. This was achieved using in-camera effects. The foreground was shot first, with the background dark. Then the background was lit, the foreground darkened, the film rewound, and the scene re-shot with the background action. Of course, this choice of focus enables a crisp storytelling where no dialogue is required to explain what happened. The unconscious woman in soft-focus definitely enhances our perception of her delirious state. And focusing on her husband, and our protagonist, makes sure that this remains as much his scene as it is of the wife.

And then we move to the most expressionistic camerawork that this movie employs. This extreme low-angle shot is so different from our perception of reality. More such bizarre angles and lenses were used at various points in the movie. Here the director is producing his own version of reality. Welles had to create ceilings over the sets and dig the floors to create trenches that could accommodate the camera. In those days, all of this was unheard of. Why does he do that? May be it was a stylistic choice, but here is how the famous French critic Bazin reads this shot: “the gaze upward seems to come out of the earth, while the ceilings, forbidding any escape within the décor, complete the fatality of this curse. Kane’s lust for power crushes us, but is itself crushed by the décor. Through the camera, we are capable in a way of perceiving Kane’s failure at the same time we experience his power.”

This is only a glimpse into the bag of tricks that this movie is. You can watch the film again and again just for its cinematography, the importance of which can be assessed by the way Welles credited his cinematographer. There is no separate title card for Welles as the director. He shares it with the cinematographer! I have never seen something like this elsewhere.

Must Watch Before You Die #20: Alien (1979)

2011-10-04T22:41:00.003+05:30

Alternative Horror is fast becoming one of my favourite sub-genres. I don’t know whether a term like this exists, but I kind of like it. I would define Alternative Horror as the sub-genre which horrifies us without confining to the conventions of the Horror genre. So the documentary ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ on the issue of global warming is Alternative Horror for me, as are cult-classics ‘Angel Heart’ and ‘Eraserhead’. Perhaps the reason behind my fascination for this sub-genre is my love for one film-maker who has managed to horrify us without ever resorting to the classical horror elements. Whether it is his psychological thriller ‘Repulsion’, the surreal masterpieces like ‘The Tenant’ or ‘The Ninth Gate’, the unforgettable ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, or even the War Drama ‘The Pianist’ – there is always a foreboding of something terrible in the movies of Roman Polanski. With bated breaths we watch the protagonists’ struggle to survive against a supremely powerful and often invisible antagonist. These movies affect human psyche in more ways than a classical horror movie would, movies that rely on ghosts (wandering ex-human spirits) haunting someone or something and their exorcism being the only satisfying resolution. Not to forget that Alternative Horror also works better when you revisit the movie, and are already aware of the thrills and surprises.

I just watched another movie that can be classified in this sub-genre. Ridley Scott’s sci-fi classic ‘Alien’ managed to involve me in a way many movies can not. Despite a long and tiring day, and it was late in the night that I started watching it, the movie did not allow me to blink. In fact during the final act, I was sitting up, leaning on my laptop screening, as if nothing else mattered to me but the survival of the female protagonist.

I always thought sci-fi is not my genre. And here I am, recommending this movie as a must-watch-before-you-die. But I realize that it is not its sci-fi elements that have impacted me, it is its inherent horror, and most interestingly its smart variation on the classic horror tale of a group of adventurers trapped in a haunted house awaiting their death or a miraculous escape. And yes, there is a cat too! Watch it NOW!

P.S. I have not spoiled your fun by sharing details from the movie. I promise you that.

The Screenplay of 'Citizen Kane'

2011-10-01T01:31:00.008+05:30

"You know, Mr. Bernstein, if I hadn't been very rich I might have been a really great man."

Statutory Warning: I am assuming that you have watched the movie before reading this. Please don't read further if you plan to and haven't.

Let's go through the narrative structure of 'Citizen Kane'. It begins with the death of the protagonist - Charles Foster Kane, followed by a loud 15-minute news film on his life, revealing to us almost every major landmark, almost all crests and troughs that came to him. At this point a group of journalists decide to find the relevance of the last word uttered by Kane. The word is 'Rosebud' and the journey that a journalist called Thompson undertakes to find its significance forms the body of the film. We hardly get to see Thompson's face, though we are constantly with him. And in the end we hardly come to know anything about 'Rosebud' - possibly the most famous MacGuffin, arguably the most talked about secret in the history of cinema.

The rest of the movie is a jig-saw puzzle, going back and forth in time, often repeating the same incidents with different perspectives. It is definitely not as twisted as '21 Grams' or 'Memento' or other such modern puzzles, but is definitely more mature in its narrative structure than most. Interestingly, unlike other 'time-twisted' films, it doesn't complicate matters just for the sake of it, nor does it rely on seducing you to solve it, rather it tries to prove the futility of such an exercise and revels in its inherent complication - the journey to explore the life of an enigmatic man. What puzzle can be more interesting to experience, more challenging to solve? And since the 15-minute short-film has already narrated to us his life, we are more interested in knowing 'why and how' rather than 'what'.

The film is told from the perspectives of multiple narrators. Like it would happen to all of us, after one dies, his life-story can only be constructed from others' memories of the person, and depends significantly on his relationship with them, and on their respective world-views. Furthermore, all narrators here - the news film, the memoirs of Kane's guardian, his old manager, his ageing friend who later turned against him, his alcoholic and depressed second wife, and the obviously greedy butler - are unreliable. Naturally, it makes us think - perhaps Kane was not as bad as he appears in the film. The eventual hint at the meaning of 'Rosebud' also creates an out-of-character image for him, thus establishing the limitation of the entire endeavour to try to understand a person through the perspectives of others. I believe that this helps us admire Kane better with repeated viewings, and an apparently anti-hero emerges to be someone we'll always want to know more about.

Go through the preceding three paragraphs again, one by one. You will agree that each has the promise for a truly fascinating and complex screenplay. Even today, to write something structurally and philosophically as complicated as this will be an arduous task. 'Citizen Kane' had it all organically woven into one, not to forget that most of these tools were unheard of back in those days.

However, the screenplay of this movie is not great only with respect to 'its time'. In my opinion, despite the various technical accomplishments of this film, it is its writing that remains its most timeless and unparalleled achievement. A screenplay as good as this will always end up as a memorable film, whether its translation on film employs the best of technique or not. If it can ever be considered a yardstick of cinematic excellence - the Oscar for Original Screenplay was the only win this movie could manage out of nine nominations. Even the worst of hostility towards it during that year's Academy Awards function could not prevent this to happen. Today, for all screenwriters, the script of 'Citizen Kane' remains the ultimate challenge, and inspiration, though ironically, no one can actually learn or teach to write something like this, a story which manages to impress and entertain without adhering to the classical screenwriting rules, and eventually mocking them with its sheer brilliance.

P.S. If you are interested in reading this screenplay, please send a request to s.satyanshu@gmail.com. I will mail it to you.

Modern Paisa-Wasool

2011-09-30T13:54:00.001+05:30

For me it is a rare feeling – to go into theatres and watch a Hindi movie that claims and emerges to be truly paisa-wasool. The films I like do not claim to do that, and those that claim fail to satisfy me. Recently it was ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’ that I truly enjoyed. And today after watching the first show of ‘Sahib, Biwi aur Gangster’ I feel the same.

Please do not infer that both of these movies are equally good. I’m not saying that. I’m just feeling happy, because it is these movies that restore my faith in Hindi commercial cinema. To survive in this industry, in this country, you need to be an entertainer. And if you manage to do that with anything that is even slightly different or personal or topical, anything that makes it different from the soon-to-be-expired formulae, in my opinion you have succeeded.

So, in my opinion ‘Sahib, Biwi aur Gangster’ succeeds. Watch it for its characters, even the smallest roles have ‘character’ in them. Watch it for its actors – it is difficult to choose the best. Watch it for its dialogue, most of which are very proudly filmy, but some subtly layered. I want to congratulate Tigmanshu Dhulia for the film he has made – the milieu is his territory and he walks through it with confidence and flair.

Do not raise your expectations after reading this post. It is a film worth the money you spend on the ticket. You may not enjoy it as much as I did, or you may even truly love it. But definitely, you will agree that we will stop complaining about the quality of our commercial entertainers if we have a movie like this every fortnight.

P.S. There were only six people for the 10.30 am show at Fun Republic. I desperately hope it increases with word of mouth. Spread the word, if you can.

Understanding Cinema Lecture: The Greatest Film Ever Made

2011-09-30T01:41:00.006+05:30

The biggest problem with ‘Citizen Kane’ is the baggage it comes with, the tag it has earned over the last seven decades, of being the greatest of all films. Our first experience of the movie is generally a useless exercise – trying to question, appreciate, and criticize at the same time different aspects of a movie that is bogged down by its reputation. In the end we are still not convinced about the reason behind its hype, our final reaction being – “Well, may be… I don’t know.”

If only we could watch it without the enormous expectations…

For the first time on this blog I’m going to discuss any one film in such detail, and it is merely a coincidence that the first such movie is going to be ‘Citizen Kane’. But somehow, I feel good about it. Starting with the best!

The posts to follow will focus on three aspects of the film:

- The Writing

- The Cinematography

- The Sound

An Epilogue will then conclude the discussion. I’m really looking forward to it…

Getting Cinemate: #13 Realism versus Expressionism

2011-09-29T22:23:00.002+05:30

You might believe that motion picture photography captures reality and hence it is honest and true and real. You also believe that as a filmmaker it is wrong to try to modify that reality. So, you will pay more attention to ‘what to show’ when you make your films rather than ‘how to show’. If you think like this, you are a ‘Realist’ filmmaker.

However, if you believe in using cinema as magic, and using your expression to alter reality to create a different reality, you are an ‘Expressionist’ filmmaker. ‘How to show’ gives you greater satisfaction than ‘what to show’.

If you are shifting focus in the running shot, you are directing the audience’s attention. This is Expressionistic. However, if everything in your shot is in focus and you leave it to the audience to focus on what they want, this is Realistic. The ‘unreal’ sets of a Sanjay Bhansali film can be defended by the concept of expressionism – it is the director’s wish to supersede reality with his own way of looking and showing. The complete lack of background score in various movies can be defended by the concept of realism – we do not have background score in real life!

It is difficult to find examples of films relying totally on either of the philosophies of filming. Generally, the best of cinema uses the best of both.

The Real Challenge

2011-09-11T13:33:00.004+05:30

For their ‘Understanding Cinema’ project, my students are busy making their short films. I have required from each group, apart from their films, a poster, a trailer, a PR news article, and a film review. My intention was to make them realize the importance of marketing in this form of ‘art’ and ‘communication’. And they have responded with excitement. They have gone ahead to find different ways to create a buzz for their movies.

It started with a group starting a gossip blog reporting the making of its film. Another group followed, by creating their protagonist’s blog, and thus having us interact with the character even before the movie was shot. This blog is particularly beautiful, though not as sensational as the previous one. But this kind of publicity goes well with the topic this group is working on, which is ‘Hindi Parallel Cinema’ – thus focusing on its target group of artsy audience. There is another group circulating their own version of Mumbai Mirror – with gossip articles added to the already spicy daily. I love their enthusiasm. Other groups are launching their production house logos, and I’m amazed to see the technical expertise they have at their age. But the group that has managed to impress me the most is the one exploring the topic of ‘French New Wave’. Instead of creating a blog, they have created a Facebook page, thus managing to reach, and more frequently so, a wider audience. Apart from this, they are already uploading Teasers on YouTube, which are very true to their topic and really interesting.

All this exercise is important in order to really ‘understand cinema’. The commerce of this expensive medium can not be ignored and the only way to survive in this business is by keeping the finances correct – you can even survive making truly bad movies if you have got your monies right. And because of the unpredictable nature of this trade, that is a real challenge.

Had a chat with Anurag Kashyap at a preview of his latest film. He has reduced this game to a simple arithmetic, and that makes sense. For a movie with the production budget of, say, two crores to break even at the box-office, around 4-5 lakh people should walk into the theatres. This should happen within the few weeks of the movie’s stay at the theatres, and includes the movie-going audience all across the country. The point is, considering the population of some of the major cities in this country, this number is hardly significant. Five lakh people from all over India is really nothing. But we still can not guarantee that they will come, willing to spend on a movie. There are two things we can interpret from this – the film business in India is yet to tap its fullest potential (consider this – only 2 to 3 crore Indians watched ‘3 Idiots’ in theatres), and the need is to devise a marketing strategy that manages to achieve the cut-off figure mentioned above (which will be around 50 lakh footfalls for a 20-crore movie). This latter issue will determine the success story of new cinema and new film-makers.

P.S. I think ‘That Girl in Yellow Boots’ is an important film, but I didn’t like it. Now, if 100 people don’t watch it because of my opinion mentioned here, I have caused a loss to the target figure of 5 lakhs. See, how difficult it is!

Venice in Andheri

2011-09-11T02:38:00.003+05:30

This year’s festival at Venice concludes today. Nobody invited me, and I can’t afford to attend on my own. So, I had my own little Venice Film Festival on my laptop. Watched three Golden Lion winners back-to-back (Golden Lion is the highest honour at Venice, the award for the Best Film) – ‘Goodbye, Children’ (1987), ‘Brokeback Mountain’ (2005), and ‘Lust, Caution’ (2007). Loved them all.

Including this year’s winner ‘Faust’, we have had fifty-five films to bag this honour in the history of the festival. I have watched fourteen out of them, and the list includes some of my very favourite films made by some of my very favourite makers. Kurosawa’s ‘Rashomon’ (1951), Ray’s ‘Aparajito’ (1957), Tarkovsky’s ‘Ivan’s Childhood’, Antonioni’s ‘Red Desert’ (1964), Bunuel’s ‘Belle de jour’ (1967), and Kieslowski’s ‘Three Colours: Blue’ (1993) feature in the list, as does Mira Nair’s ‘Monsoon Wedding’ (2001) and Aronofsky’s ‘The Wrestler’ (2008).

‘Ugetsu Monogatari’, ‘On the Waterfront’, ‘Sansho the Bailiff’, ‘La Strada’ and ‘Raise the Red Lantern’ are some movies that have won the Silver Lion for the Second Best Movie, as has ‘GoodFellas’ for Best Direction. This year it is Cai Shangjun for ‘People Mountain People Sea’ to have won this award.

At the festival, the highest acting honour is called the Volpi Cup. This year’s winners are Michael Fassbender for ‘Shame’ and Deanie Ip for ‘A Simple Life’. James Stewart, Toshiro Mifune, Juliette Binoche, Sean Penn, and Cate Blanchett are some of my favourites to have won that earlier. Sam Jaffe as the caper mastermind in the classic noir ‘The Asphalt Jungle’, and Laura Betti in the unforgettable ‘Teorema’ also won the prize in their respective years. These two movies were also a part of my own celebration of the festival. I’m waiting for the day when I’ll physically attend it at the Lido. Till then, I don’t mind doing it in my bed.

Gurudev Uvaacha #1

2011-09-05T22:07:00.004+05:30

On the occasion of Teachers' Day, I've decided to start a new feature on this blog. It is called 'Gurudev Uvaacha' or 'The Teacher Says'. This surely doesn't need any more explanation. So here we go...

“What the student movie director should be taught is as much of our whole culture as we are capable of synthesizing. Synthesizing, not specializing. To make a film for today’s world, we should strive to comprehend as much as possible of the human accomplishment in these last twenty thousand years.”

“Hold a mirror up to nature—that’s Shakespeare’s message to the actor. How much more does that apply, and how much more is it true, to the creator of a film? If you don’t know something about the nature to which you’re holding up your mirror, how limited your work must be! ….. A movie is a reflection of the entire culture of the man who makes it— his education, human knowledge, his breadth of understanding—all this is what informs a picture. . . . [The mechanics of making a film] can be taught over the weekend by any intelligent person. . . . The rest of it is what you have to bring to the machinery. . . . The angle at which you hold that mirror. What’s finally interesting is not the romantic tilt or spastic quirk at which you hold it—but what the mirror has to show back to you. . . . Which is determined by moral, aesthetic, and ideological orientation.”

- Orson Welles (1915-forever)

Understanding Cinema Lecture: ‘Pulp Fiction’

2011-09-01T00:14:00.002+05:30

In an essentially commercial film industry like Hollywood, or even ours, cinema has the tendency to be complacent, the tendency to identify successful formulas and limit itself to those. From a creative field, it changes itself to something churning out products as in a mass-production unit. And then we need movies that shock and stun, not only the audience and the sociologists, but the film industry, and redefine the possibilities of movies as a commercial venture. When we talk about such a movie, the first name that comes to mind is Quentin Tarantino’s ‘Pulp Fiction’ (1994).

Made at the modest budget of under $9 million, the movie grossed around $240 million worldwide, apart from acquiring a cult status and a worldwide fan-following. This achievement by a movie that broke several rules (read Commandments) of conventional cinema was shocking. And hence it could stir a revolution, apart from helping the indie movement, and went on to become possibly the most influential movie of the decade.

It is easy to understand why some people do not like the movie, as is obvious why some are absolutely crazy about it. In fact, there is a lot in this movie (drugs, violence, sex) that can be instantly popular among young filmmakers and audience. And though it is not inimitable, it is extremely difficult to create something as good as it. Because making something like ‘Pulp Fiction’ can not be taught or learnt in film-schools or through years of practice and making movies. You can only be a born Tarantino.

Ironically, when the script of this film was making rounds of the studios, one of the executives remarked that “This is the worst thing ever written.” Today, it is perhaps the most widely read script around the world. In fact, you can read ‘Pulp Fiction’ like a work of literature, you can listen to its dialogues without watching the pictures and still be entertained. The film has an infective ‘aural ambience’, apart from a stylized visual one.

How a cinema borrows from popular culture and then, if it is good and memorable enough, itself acquires an iconic status in that pop-culture is easily illustrated by this movie. There are numerous tributes to other movies, TV shows, and popular music, within the movie. And today, all those lines on ‘hamburgers’ and ‘foot massage’, and the mystery of what was inside the suitecase have become a part of popular consciousness.

One can go on talking about ‘Pulp Fiction’. But there is one thing I wanted to highlight. Despite all screenwriting rules that it breaks, it does not break the most vital rule – it is the characters (in conflict) that make a film. If you can create an orchestration of characters as colourful and memorable as these, you can go ahead and break all writing rules. All screenwriting gurus made a little change in their ‘dos and don’ts’ after the success of this movie – don’t do ‘this’ and don’t do ‘that’, unless you are Quentin Tarantino. Well, most of us are not.

P.S. For its innovative narrative structure, delicious dialogue, incredible characters, and unforgettable scenes ‘Pulp Fiction’ truly qualifies as a must-watch-before-you-die (#19).

Understanding Cinema Lecture: How to Divide Your Scene to Shots for Shooting

2011-08-30T23:23:00.002+05:30

Shots are the units that make a film. They are like sentences in prose: each unit conveying one complete idea. So, though I discourage the idea of visualizing the film in shots, especially at the writing stage, once the screenplay is ready, we have to finally go through this exercise, of dividing each scene into shots. And if there is one mantra that we should never forget, it is this: ‘Each shot should be significant, each cut should be significant.’ To achieve the most correct shot-division, the director needs to understand the screenplay and investigate on it. What appears so normal and obvious on screen is actually a matter of individual decisions taken out of hundreds of options. And the pain and the wisdom that go into this make a good film great.

We have to answer three basic questions to understand our scene:
- Whose scene is it? (Which characters’)
- What is the purpose of the scene? (Narrative and/or dramatic, expository, to create a mood, to shed more light on characters etc.)
- What are the Dramatic Blocks that constitute the scene? (Look below for details).

Every scene has an arc of its own, which is generally through the perception of the person whose scene it is (the answer to the first question). This arc exists because there is something to be achieved through the scene (the answer to the second question). If it is compared to a prose piece, a scene can be composed of one or more ‘paragraphs’. One idea is generally covered in one paragraph. The only way to get what idea is being conveyed in the scene is by finding the answer to the first two questions. And once we know that, we can divide the dramatic arc of the film into these visual paragraphs called Dramatic Blocks.

Each paragraph is composed of sentences. Similarly each Dramatic Block is composed of shots. But unlike prose, where a change of paragraph is easily communicated, we can not have visible ‘breaks’ in the action of the scene to make the audience understand the change from one dramatic block to the other. Hence we need to design the shots in a manner that ‘renders’ this information to the audience. This design is again driven from the answer to the three questions above, including the ‘idea’ being communicated through that particular dramatic block.

For example, the scene when ‘Bhuvan’ is introduced in ‘Lagaan’ is also when the antagonist – Capt. Russel is introduced, as is the seed for their rivalry. Remember how it is shot? The two facing each other, and a ‘shot-reverse shot’ pattern capturing the drama. However, in the next scene as we see Bhuvan and Gauri together, and the scene establishes their romantic relationship, we see them sitting together, thus establishing their ‘togetherness’ which does not have any real friction despite the conflicted love affair of theirs. If we do not understand the purpose of this scene, we might end up rendering it in shot-reverse shot pattern which suggests a conflict, each cut truly ‘separating’ the characters.

We thus realize that each shot carries a syntagmatic connotation (the connotative sense we comprehend by relating the shot/sentence to the shots/sentences preceding and succeeding it) and a paradigmatic connotation (the connotative sense we comprehend from the comparison of the shot/sentence with its unrealized companions – other potential shots/sentences). This is the basis of cinema – shots colliding with each other to create a narrative, tension, or mood.

So if your scene begins with ‘togetherness’ between characters, and then they start arguing to finally ‘separate’ psychologically, you can divide the dramatic arc into blocks – the first showing togetherness, the second showing rise of conflict, the third showing the climax of conflict, and the last establishing the separation. Once you identify that, you can divide your shot more meaningfully.

This is not something that can be covered in one article. Thanks to the wonderful book ‘Film Directing Fundamentals’ by Nicholas Proferes I have started to understand this concept. We can spend years trying to learn this, by reading the movies of Alfred Hitchcock and Billy Wilder, among others, who were the masters of film grammar. The topic might look intimidating, but with reasoning and practice, it can be learnt. I hope we as young filmmakers can incorporate some of this learning into our work, and understand the function of a shot better. Shots are important, eventually.

Must Watch Before You Die #18: A Woman Under the Influence (1974)

2011-08-28T01:41:00.003+05:30

Discovering a great filmmaker is always a pleasure. And it is so much more if that filmmaker is an auteur, and his expression personal. It seems you have just tasted a new cuisine, and reaffirms your belief that the discovery of cinema is an unending experience.

I just got introduced to the cinema of John Cassavetes. And then realized I have seen him act – in Polanski’s ‘Rosemary’s Baby’. On reading, I got to know that Cassavetes was one of the founders of independent cinema in Hollywood. He made small-budget films, investing the money he earned from acting in mainstream movies, casting his own family and friends. He also dared to bypass the distribution system by personally persuading the theatre-owners to release his films. And he made some extremely personal films, developing a unique style of his own. Needless to say, after reading all this I’m anyway biased for this filmmaker now. But even while watching his movie, before I had read about him, I could feel his voice rising through his work, powerful and personal – it was like watching an European film made in Hollywood. I was so deeply affected by it that I decided to recommend it here.

Insanity has been a favourite topic among filmmakers. Insane characters are definitely a hit among the actors. But films featuring them have to tread a difficult path. We can recount numerous films on psychosis that either get repulsively melodramatic or dark. The characters evoke pity and sympathy in us – emotions we do not cherish, we do not love to pity, we love to love and admire. We do not want to cry and cry, we want to smile and cry. Movies dealing with a subject like this always have the risk of falling into these danger areas. However, the biggest challenge for a movie with such ‘unusual’ characters is to make the audience embrace them as they are, and not empathize them from a distance. A good writer will always strive to attain that. A great director will maneuver his resources in order to achieve that.

Just a few weeks ago I had recommended ‘Breaking the Waves’ which is the story of an ‘unusual’ girl’s devoted love for her husband. ‘A Woman Under the Influence’ kept reminding me of that. But while ‘Breaking the Waves’ talks about love and faith, this movie is a critical observation of the human society, less spiritual, less sentimental.

Watch ‘A Woman Under the Influence’ to see a master director at work; it is one example of a ‘director’s film’. Despite the outstandingly powerful performances by the actors, including Mrs. Cassavetes – Gena Rowlands in the title role, you can see the director as their puppeteer, knowing when to pull his strings, and when to let them loose, allowing his brilliant actors the spontaneity and the space they truly deserve. Finally, the film should be watched for its point-of-view – of extrapolating the question of sanity and the lack of it to the mankind, which must have been the writer-director’s motive since the day he conceived of the film. His triumph is not in merely being able to convey his point, but to do that without resorting to sensationalism, melodrama, or pretensions. Films as finely balanced as this are rare, and timeless.

The Greatest Shorts

2011-08-21T23:02:00.005+05:30

My students are presently scripting their short films for the 'Understanding Cinema' project. I thought of using this opportunity to list some of greatest short films in the history of cinema. All movies mentioned here are 40 minutes or shorter in length, as per the Academy's definition of a Short Film. I have also searched for these movies on YouTube or elsewhere on the net, except for a couple of them that I could not find. Click on the movies to watch them. And share your comments.

Le Voyage Dans la Lune (1902) by Georges Melies
Un Chien Andalou (1928) and Land Without Bread (1932) by Luis Bunuel
Partie de Campagne (1936) by Jean Renoir
Rose Hobart (1936) by Joseph Cornell
Listen to Britain (1942) and A Diary for Timothy (1945) by Humphrey Jennings
Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) by Maya Deren
Un Chant d’amour (1950) by Jean Genet
Night and Fog (1955) by Alain Resnais
Les Maîtres fous (1955) by Jean Rouch
The Red Balloon (1956) by Albert Lamorisse
La Jetee (1962) by Chris Marker
Scorpio Rising (1964) by Kenneth Anger

It Has Happened Only Thrice

2011-08-21T00:31:00.001+05:30

What is common between ‘It Happened One Night’ (1934), ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ (1975) and ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ (1991)? These three films, despite being as different as movies can be, share a unique similarity. And that is more than they being ‘inspirations’ for, respectively, ‘Dil Hai Ki Maanta Nahin’, ‘Kyun Ki’ and ‘Sangharsh’.

Well, these are the only three films in the history of Academy Awards to have won the Big Five: awards for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Screenplay. I just watched ‘It Happened One Night’ and was tempted to share this trivia here.

‘It Happened One Night’ was directed by Frank Capra and written by Robert Riskin, based on a short story by Samuel Hopkins Adams. Clark Gable (the star of ‘Gone With the Wind’) and Claudette Colbert starred in this film that has been remade several times.

‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ was directed by Milos Forman. The screenplay by Laurence Hauben and Bo Goldman was based on the novel by Ken Kesey. Jack Nicholson and Louise Fletcher played the lead roles.

‘The Silence of the Lambs’ was directed by Jonathan Demme and written by Ted Tally based on the novel by Thomas Harris. Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins starred in this brilliant thriller.

P.S. Three Hindi films have similar achievement in the history of the Filmfare Awards. ‘Guide’ won awards for Best Film, Actor, Actress, Director, Story, and Dialogue (back then there was no award for Screenplay). ‘Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge’ won Best Film, Actor, Actress, Director, Screenplay, and Dialogue (but lost Best Story to ‘Rangeela’). And ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ won Best Film, Actor, Actress, Director, and Screenplay (but lost Best Story to ‘Zakhm’ and Best Dialogue to ‘Chinagate’).

Simple. Clear. Successful.

2011-08-17T22:45:00.006+05:30

I feel guilty for having watched 'I am Kalam' so late. Guilty, because now I do not have sufficient time to recommend it to all. Tomorrow would be the last day of its run in the theatres. And most will miss the chance of spending on a good Hindi movie, for a change.

Most Hindi movies are bad because they lack clarity of intent and execution. Nila Madhab Panda's 'I am Kalam' succeeds because it has its basics right. I would like to enumerate some points, that we already know but fail to consider while making our films, which are the reasons behind this little film's triumph:

Create interesting characters. Do not try to make the audience pity them, rather give them some dynamic qualities that the audience will admire.
Keep the story focused and moving, simply, without resorting to complications, but conflicts.
Understand the scope of your film and work within your canvas with complete trust on your story.
Do not preach, even if you have something meaningful to say. Try to keep things light and entertaining.
Cast correctly.
Camera angles and great shots do not necessarily make a good film. Aesthetic weakness can not ruin a film with a good script. Aesthetic brilliance can not save a film with a bad script.
Do not take yourself too seriously. Humility is a desirable quality in a filmmaker.
(And as Dr Kalam says) Never stop dreaming. If you believe in your film, you will be able to find the theatres despite the unfavourable mechanisms of this film industry.

Strongly recommended.

Must Watch Before You Die #17: The Phantom of Liberty (1974)

2011-08-14T23:16:00.002+05:30

Luis Bunuel is one of the founding fathers of surrealistic cinema. With 'Un chien andalou' (1929), possibly the most famous short-film in cinema history, he started a career that would mature into a prolific body of work over the next five decades and across continents. Bunuel is one essential chapter of cinema and many of his films would be considered must-watch.

I just watched my tenth Bunuel film, his second-last. And I'm yet again amazed by the humour he manages to create out of the most bizarre situations. 'The Phantom of Liberty' is one of the most absurd films you will ever see, and also one of the most unforgettable. I'm tempted to share one of the amazing episodes from the movie.

Parents of a girl are informed that their daughter has 'disappeared' from the class-room. When they reach the school, the headmistress takes them to the class-room and tries to explain the incredible accident. She claims that the girl entered the class, and never left, but is still nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, we see a girl rise from her seat and approach the mother - she is the 'missing' girl. The mother asks her to keep quiet as the headmistress talks about her 'disappearance'.

The parents then take the girl to the police station, to file a complaint. They introduce their daughter to the police officer and complain that she is nowhere to be found. The officer files a 'missing' complain and thanks them for bringing the daughter along as that would help them know how she looks like. The story moves ahead, involving other episodes and characters, and it takes some days for the girl to be found!

I might have spoiled some fun by sharing this episode here, but I could not resist the temptation. I hope reading this would make you realize how absurd this film is. Bizarre, and extremely entertaining, 'The Phantom of Liberty' is not to be missed.

Understanding Cinema Lecture: The First Modern Movie

2011-08-03T01:19:00.004+05:30

“Why did you show us this movie?” one of my students complained politely as I started my lecture. I was not surprised. It had taken me a lot of reading, two re-watches, and several years between them to figure out myself – what is so great about ‘Breathless’ (1960).

I have a parameter for identifying a great movie. If you enjoy a movie more while watching it for a second time, and even more during the third, it has to be a great movie. ‘Breathless’ sure is. However, it is important not to take it too seriously in order to enjoy it. I have not seen any movie made before 1960 that is as ‘modern’ as ‘Breathless’. In fact, if we make a shot-by-shot remake in Hindi today, it would still be too modern for Indian audience, more than half a century later! It also is one of the most influential movies in history. And the much talked about ‘jump cut’ is just one of the ‘influences’. What makes this movie important is its inherently rebellious nature, its voice against authority, a tendency that defined the decade of the 60s in the West. What makes this movie special is the philosophy that drives it, the philosophy of its maker and its characters.

Jean-Luc Godard was a vehement critic of the French cinema of the 50s. He believed in cinema as cinema, an art in its own right with its own language and aesthetics, without any narrative obligations. He also believed that the director should use his film as a medium for personal communication. So when he made this movie, his first, he selected a story that suited his philosophy. Like him, his characters are narcissistic rebels, revolting against all norms of the society, not caring much about life, and not giving too much of importance to death. Michel fancies himself as a gangster from American movies, with apparently only one real ambition – to stay fearless, and to live and die like a hero. Patricia roams around the streets without wearing a bra, makes not big deal about being pregnant as a result of her promiscuity, and is not sure whether she loves Michel. In fact, the director’s view of impossibility of love is evident through the (mis)communication between the lead pair. They indulge in meaningless conversations and confused actions, and the director makes sure we follow them closely, thus building a narrative that is extremely opposed to the classical form of storytelling. But the content and the philosophy of the movie remain in perfect sync.

As does the style. Godard’s innovations with the camera and editing and the actors’ improvisations add a youthful fearlessness to the movie. The biggest achievement for ‘Breathless’ is the way its philosophy, content, and style are interwoven to create one organic whole – a film that is proudly aware of its medium and makes sure the audience never forget that. It never pretends to be imitating life, the‘filmy’ background score surely helps. By keeping the audience at a distance the film celebrates itself, and communicates with them with surprising effectiveness. A huge commercial and critical success on its release, it was one of the first celebrated movies of the French New Wave. And its impact on cinema went on to be enormous. The same student, who complained in the beginning of the lecture, remarked rather profoundly – “this film is exactly like its protagonist.” And also like its maker, I would say. With ‘Breathless’ cinema finally establishes itself as the medium of the director, independent of studio-system, moral censoring, and most importantly all pre-conceived expectations.

P.S. It would be interesting to ask Godard how he feels about this movie today. How does he, who always defied authority, feel about his first rebellion’s rise to become an iconic authority? Is it really possible to achieve what one character in the movie considers to be his greatest ambition in life – “to be immortal, and then die”?

Understanding Cinema Lecture: The Legend of the Seven Samurai

2011-07-29T01:39:00.006+05:30

A few years ago when I watched ‘Seven Samurai’ for the first time, I could hardly appreciate its greatness. The poor print and watching it on my laptop did not help. Recently I revisited the movie on big screen. In all these years, it kept growing on me. I have watched more than 600 good movies since my first watch of ‘Seven Samurai’, and I have not watched anything close to it. In fact, in all of my cinema experience, despite its elements being borrowed by several other movies, I have not seen a movie that could match this Kurosawa classic in its achievement. Today, I can sit through its 210 minutes every time it is screened near me. Some movies are made of the stuff of legends.

‘Seven Samurai’ can easily be considered as great an achievement of cinema as it could possibly be. The very idea of something like this is intimidating, an action-adventure period epic set in a village, with a long running-time, huge ensemble of cast, big budget, and gigantic ambition. At its inception itself, it goes beyond most of the movies ever made. And then by crafting it with timeless storytelling devices without missing on its incredible artistic appeal, Akira Kurosawa ended up making an extremely entertaining film that could appeal to all, and thus exploring the medium of cinema to its fullest. It was the biggest blockbuster of Japanese cinema when it was released. However what makes it timeless is the strong socio-cultural context and a philosophical undertone, that gives the movie its exotic yet universal appeal. Close to six decades later, it remains one of the most influential films in the history of cinema. Cinema would have shaped itself differently, if this movie were not made.

A village in medieval Japan is oppressed by a group of merciless bandits. The helpless villagers decide to hire a group of Samurais to help them protect their next harvest. What follows next is ‘Seven Samurai’, one of the first action-adventure movies, featuring elements that were to become repeating motifs of the genre. The introduction of the action hero through a sub-plot totally unrelated to the movie is a celebrated style today; it started in this movie with the introduction of Kambei, the leader of the pack, played masterfully by the versatile Takashi Shimura. Building up of a team for an upcoming task is another celebrated plot element. It takes close to one hour for Kambei to get his Samurais together and head for the village. Then we witness the strategizing – how they plan to defend the village. The storyteller shares these wonderful details with us, using maps, showing the training of the villagers, and constantly teasing us with the sense of ‘something is going to happen soon’. This main narrative graph of the film is refreshingly intersected with some extremely involving sub-plots, interwoven elegantly with the central spine. The forbidden romance between the youngest Samurai and a village girl, the story of the peasant whose wife has been abducted by the bandits, the old woman who avenges the death of her son in a chilling scene, and the occasional hinting at the back-story of Kikuchiyo, played by another Kurosawa regular, Toshiro Mifune, add so much to this otherwise straight-forward story. These sub-plots, I suppose, appeal to you more when you watch the movie for the second time, like various other elements that keep coming up in the subsequent re-watches.

Universally loved and respected, ‘Seven Samurai’ is also one of the most watched movies. It is not surprising that Hollywood and Bollywood never cease to pay homage to it. ‘The Magnificent Seven’ and ‘Chinagate’ are the closest adaptations. But you will find ‘Seven Samurai’ in ‘Sholay’ and ‘Lagaan’, and ‘Guns of Navarone’ and ‘Dirty Dozen’. George Lucas admits to have been influenced by the Samurai epics of Kurosawa that inspired him to create ‘Star Wars’. As I write these words, the signature tune of the movie fills my ears and my mind, and I am looking forward to experience the movie again, with hundreds of people, in a darkened theatre, on the big screen – this is one movie that goes beyond celebrating the medium of cinema, it actually fulfills the invention of motion picture.

The Most Significant Hindi Film of the Last Decade

2011-07-29T01:39:00.004+05:30

The farewell dinner in Sydney. Rohit and Shalini will soon be leaving for their marriage. Akash is invited. Mahesh Uncle is present. And Rohit tries to taunt Akash by reminding him of their graduation party, and the punch that had resulted in the iconic black-eye. Akash retorts: “In fact, I think I was lucky. Because if Shalini were with me, and someone had flirted with her, I would have killed him.” Some giggle in the audience. “Crap!” – emits a girl in my row. And for me too, that heroic line does not work this time. Ten years ago, when I was seventeen, and had romanced girls only in my head, that line had given me goose-bumps. Something had changed. This line from Terry Gilliam’s ‘Twelve Monkeys’ probably explains it: “The movie never changes. It can't change. But every time you see it, it seems different because you're different.”

Last Sunday I watched ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ after close to six years, and for the first time on big screen. The occasion was the tenth anniversary of the movie and the screening was followed by a Q&A with Farhan Akhtar. I had always been disappointed with the Sangeet scene where Akash ‘proposes’ Shalini in front of a hundred people. This time, I was disappointed with almost the entire final act. The writer-director himself admitted that there were two things he would like to change, in retrospection, and both have to do with the final act. One, he said, would be to terminate the Akash-Shalini track in Sydney itself, and two, to eliminate the last shot in the epilogue in Goa where Siddharth notices Deepa and drifts towards her as Akash and Sameer join their wives. It was heartening to hear him speak, with his charismatic insouciance, and answer all sorts of questions candidly, without making big deal about the movie that changed the shape of Hindi cinema like not many.

Back then, I didn’t understand cinema much. But I was so affected by the movie – by its sound (movies without sync-sound started to put me off), lighting (“You can watch DCH just for the way it uses light and colours” was my favourite show-off remark in college), and editing. I was amazed to observe the effect of the shots lingering over the faces for just a few seconds longer, enhancing the performances, and creating a stillness that all of us could relate to, but could hardly ‘diagnose’. It is not a coincidence that DCH showcased the finest performances of all lead actors, that had as much to do with editing, as with the unforgettably written characters. Also, the use of jump-cuts and ultra fast-motion, though not innovations, changed the picturization of songs forever. By just being truly modern, and setting an aesthetic parameter, DCH defined the decade that followed, and in this sense contributed more to our cinema than ‘Lagaan’. For me, these two movies, releasing within 5-6 weeks, changed the perception of cinema forever.

I was thus excited to catch this movie this Sunday, to check how it affects me after surviving for all these years on the finest of world cinema. And I have no words to describe the experience. Nostalgia had indeed a major role to play, but the real triumph was of the movie itself, of watching it unfold magically on the big screen. It is long, it is extremely melodramatic, and it is rooted in the Hindi cinema tradition. But ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ supersedes the tradition and becomes something so entertaining and involving that should be continued to be treasured when it is no more ‘modern’. The dip in the final act is something we would blissfully ignore.

Understanding Cinema Lecture: 'Salaam Bombay!' and the Initiation of the UC Project

2011-07-24T03:59:00.004+05:30

It was really heartening to see the positive response to ‘Salaam Bombay!’(1988) among the students. I was a little confused after the relative ‘failure’ of ‘Pather Panchali’ and was reconsidering my selection of movies. Well, I don’t think I was wrong in selecting ‘Pather Panchali’, but perhaps could not time it well. I should have screened it later, at least after ‘Salaam Bombay!’

Through these two movies I have started explaining to the students the limitations of the classical narrative structure that was introduced to them through ‘Vertigo’. Sticking to the classical narrative definitely limits cinema and it is indeed necessary to defy these rules. However, I have also, and I will keep repeating this, stressed upon the importance of the classical narrative. It is very important to understand it completely, before denouncing it. And for all practical purposes, it is safe, and generally rewarding, to obey these rules.

I also briefly covered some cinematography topics, like camera equipments, and FPS. It was also interesting to note that the students are generally more interested in learning these film-making aspects, rather than understanding the ‘greatness’ of movies I screen. I would try to incorporate this observation into my future lectures.

The most exciting thing, however, is the initiation of the ‘Understanding Cinema Project.’ I am dividing the students into film-making teams, to be led by the Producers. After briefly explaining to them what a producer does (and he does not just put in the money!), I selected all producers I need from the volunteers. They will now select the directors they want to work with, and then divide the entire batch into their film-making units. There is still time before the topics are allotted and they start working on their scripts. Before that I want to make sure that each group consists of people who share good rapport among themselves. That, in my opinion, is the most important thing in a film-making unit, more important than the collective or individual talent.

Style versus Storytelling

2011-07-24T02:50:00.005+05:30

I just got introduced to the cinema of Mani Kaul. And though I have been searching for his movies for five years, I’m glad it happened now. Because only now I have started to understand cinema in a way that is required to react appropriately to such works. Though it’s not more than a beginning, I was glad I could react individually and independently, without being affected by others, including this great article on Kaul’s cinema.

Ever since I read the plot of the Rajasthani folk tale on which Amol Palekar’s ‘Paheli’ (2005) was based, I was excited. However, the movie left me disappointed and angry – I thought it was such a waste of a beautiful story. So then I was dying to watch ‘Duvidha’ (1973), the original movie on the eponymous story. I told myself – look at the titles. That alone explains the difference in approach. This story is not about a ‘puzzle’ but about a moral ‘dilemma’. Hence, I was sure ‘Duvidha’ would do justice to it.

Today, I watched ‘Duvidha’. And I’m disappointed again. Not that I did not like the movie, but it left so much to be desired. Simply speaking, it failed to explore into the moral dilemma I was so interested in. The husband of a newly wed bride leaves her three days after marriage for a business trip that would not bring him back for five years. A ghost, who is struck by the beauty of the woman, enters the house in the form of the husband, even managing to cheat his own father. But he discloses his identity to the woman and leaves it on her to accept him. Unfortunately, the director does not dwell on the woman’s dilemma, neither focuses on the psychological state of her mind when she agrees to and spends days and nights with the ghost. By using a style, that I would even call egotistical, he solves all conflicts before they emerge. This continues throughout the film – including the conflict that results from the ‘real’ husband’s premature return, and the climax where the ghost is punished. Such a wonderful plot, and such a waste of opportunity.

I am aware of the arguments that would come up in defense of the movie. The first would be – the director willingly and consciously decides to sacrifice storytelling to create a powerful personal expression. And the example of Jean-Luc Godard will feature in this argument. Firstly, I think the director is not, or should not be, bigger than the story. And if he wants to showcase a unique and personal style, he should choose the story accordingly. I have watched only seven of Godard’s films, so perhaps I’m not eligible to give a general comment, but none of his movies had a story unsuitable to his style. I never felt Godard is letting go of any wonderful opportunity. I love his playfulness, and I never mind his egotism. Finding the correct story to display your style is essential, as is to find the correct style for your story, which brings me to the second point.

The minimalism of Mani Kaul might be compared to Ozu or Bresson. However, the style adopted by these two masters is so suitable to the stories they decide to tell. The economy of expression is so in sync with the universe they operate in. Watching them I never feel that they are compromising on the strengths of their story. I can not help but wonder, what someone like a Jean-Pierre Jeunet would have done to this story – how incredible and memorable the resulting film would have been.

The third argument would be the aesthetic excellence of the maker which, and I might be offending many by saying this, I thought was seriously deficient. All these great filmmakers we are talking about had an impeccable craft. Their frames and their montages were very self-assured. I have seen Godard’s outrageous innovations, but generally none of them have weak aesthetics. Mani Kaul’s imagery and sound design could never convince me of his greatness. And the voice-overs further ruined the storytelling. One example would be this: As the villagers are taking the husband and the ghost to the king for a solution, the narrator says that the ghost was on his way to be captured by the shepherd. Till then we do not even know who this shepherd is, and we do not want the narrator to spoil the climax for us. I wonder how would someone defend errors like this. And if you think I’m stressing unnecessarily on the importance of classical storytelling and do not agree with my opinion on Kaul’s aesthetics, please read on.

I decided to watch another Mani Kaul movie just after ‘Duvidha’ because I did not want to form an opinion based on just one movie. I decided to spend more time trying to understand something that I might have missed in the first. So I sat for ‘Satah Se Uthta Aadmi’ (1980). It was such a difficult movie, and I was so hungry, that I repeatedly considered the option of leaving it mid-way. There was obviously no story, and the loosely connected episodes made no sense at all. But I persisted. I wanted to give the maker a fair chance.

And thank God I did that. As the movie approached its conclusion, everything started making sense to me. The movie was pure poetry – a long poem that uses abstractions to convey the world-view of the poet. The lack of coherence and the vague imagery was completely in sync with the content (or the story). And hence, I liked the movie more than the first one. I would like to insist, thus, that I’m not adamant about the classical structure of storytelling. I only believe that the story should dictate its style. However, even this movie left me unfulfilled as far as the aesthetics were concerned. Watch Tarkovsky’s ‘The Mirror’ (1975) – another film-poem and you would agree. If ‘Duvidha’ and ‘Satah Se Uthta Aadmi’ could only improve on their shots and edit, without changing the style, the mood, or anything else, these would have been much better movies. And the argument that I should not compare Mani Kaul with Andrei Tarkovsky is totally irrelevant. Because if you are calling him great with respect to Indian cinema, we have no argument at all.

Just two movies, and I’m convinced of Mani Kaul’s greatness. The sheer conviction to make such movies, in such a style, in our film-industry, during that period is enough to convince me of that. I would definitely watch more of him, and would love to accept later, if it happens, that I was too quick in forming an opinion about him. But my belief on two things just got strengthened today. The first is really unfortunate and harsh, that even the best of Hindi cinema stands nowhere compared to the best of the world. And the second, that the story, within or without a coherent narrative, is above the style of the film and more importantly, the filmmaker.

The Importance of Being Familiar

2011-07-23T02:22:00.004+05:30

This is the first scene (the overture) of Woody Allen’s Manhattan (1979). I have borrowed 'action' from the Ebert review, and the lines, obviously from the movie itself:

George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” plays over powerful black-and-white visions of Manhattan and its skyline, and the mighty bridges leaping out to it from the provinces. We go through its people and places as a voice, filled with uncertainty and hesitations, plays as a monologue.

"Chapter one. He adored New York City. He idolised it all out of proportion."

Uh, no. Make that "He romanticised it all out of proportion."

"To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin."

Uh... no. Let me start this over.

"Chapter one. He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle- bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street-smart guys who seemed to know all the angles."

Ah, corny. Too corny for a man of my taste. Let me... try and make it more profound.

"Chapter one. He adored New York City. To him, it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. The same lack of integrity to cause so many people to take the easy way out... was rapidly turning the town of his dreams..."

No, it's gonna be too preachy. I mean, face it, I wanna sell some books here.

"Chapter one. He adored New York City, although to him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. How hard it was to exist in a society desensitised by drugs, loud music, television, crime, garbage..."

Too angry. I don't wanna be angry.

"Chapter one. He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat."

I love this.

"New York was his town and it always would be."

We later realize that these lines were probably the protagonist’s random blabbering into his cassette recorder. Though we do not know that yet, these set him up for us. I was already laughing as this montage ended, hardly a few minutes into the movie. To all those who are yet to discover the cinema of Woody Allen, these lines would appear hardly humourous. But most of those who know him (both the writer-director and the character(s) he plays), will react as I did, and the ‘Woody’ humour will hook them into the movie at once. Moreover, going beyond what the protagonist in this movie feels or conveys, these lines communicate, to all those who are familiar with Allen’s cinema, the writer-director’s sentiment for New York.

I wonder how it would have been received if it were the first work of the maker. I wonder how some filmographies become more important and memorable than the individual films. Most Masters are more than the sum of their individual movies.

Somebody asked me once, what is so great about ‘Annie Hall’ (1977). I could not answer him then. I can not answer him today. The only answer, probably, would be – watch more of Woody Allen. And then we will share a laugh together.

The Boy will Live

2011-07-17T23:29:00.003+05:30

I have watched all Harry Potter movies first-day-first-show, except the first two. We were in hostel when the first two movies were released and had to wait for vacations to catch them. But ever since ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’, till the latest edition – I have celebrated them all. Another memorable experience was accompanying my friend to the final book release in 2007. It was 5.30 am. And the only people awake were a few dozens of us, the fans of the series, united by a certain bond of togetherness, sharing the same excitement and spirit. My friend had then commented – “It is unlikely something like this will be repeated anytime soon.” I had a similar feeling as I watched the final movie of the series this Friday.

The setting at Fame, Andheri was similar to that of the Landmark store, in Pune four years ago. It is rare to find such a packed house on Friday mornings, even in Mumbai. As we waited to enter the theatre, I could feel the same bond, togetherness, and passion on all of our faces. Some were busy revising the previous seven episodes, some were clarifying the doubts in the minds of the ‘forgetful’ fans (including me). You could hear lines like – “So, three more horcruxes are to be found… or is it four??” It was such an emotionally charged scene, I felt sorry for all who can not appreciate this phenomenon, and dismiss the series without bothering to read the novels.

A phenomenon like this will not be repeated anytime soon because of some very important factors. The seven novels of Harry Potter were released over ten years. And fourteen years went by between the release of the first novel and the last film. Any one novel or a smaller series will not be able to have such a continuous craze over such a long period. It will require a long series of bestsellers to create a similar fan-following, finally concluding with the final novel or movie that will generate the maximum hype, excitement, and footfalls. For this to be repeated, someone will have to come up with something as popular, over a long series of connected novels, over more than a decade. Most likely, it will again be something that can be read by children and adults alike, and its most loyalist fans would be teenagers who grew to their late twenties as the series progressed. Within our lifetimes, something like this being repeated is not unlikely, but difficult.

However, the movie did not satisfy me. I’m anyway not a big fan of Harry Potter movies and believe that a big-budget TV series would do greater justice to the novels. But I had really liked the seventh movie (‘Deathly Hallows’, Part 1). It had a certain stillness to it, the stillness before the storm, and it appeared to be dwelling more on the characters we so love, than a quick unfolding of events. The latest movie left me unsatisfied. Perhaps it has to do with its inadequacies to fulfill our expectations, especially because the last novel of the series was an undoubted triumph. But perhaps it also has to do with the sentiments associated with it – we now know it is the definitive end of a series we desperately don’t want to end. Perhaps it was impossible for the makers to satisfy us anyway. In fact, I’m divided over the question whether we should have more of Harry Potter novels. My heart says yes, my brain says no. I’m torn. The only solace for me is perhaps to revisit the novels, and experience again the magical journey of the boy who lived!

The Three Masters from Japan

2011-07-17T22:22:00.003+05:30

Japanese Cinema, the only film-culture from Asia that has maintained its reputation across several decades, for me has now gone beyond Akira Kurosawa. Though the fourteen films of his that I have watched still remain my biggest window to the Land of the Rising Sun, it is the discovery of two other masters that is making my experience truly wholesome.

Kenji Mizoguchi, who made films between 1923-56, was the earliest of Japanese masters. Kurosawa revered him as his guru. The world discovered Mizoguchi only a few years before his death, through ‘Ugetsu Monogatari’(1953). In the same year, Yasujiro Ozu (filmography spanning 1927-62) made ‘Tokyo Story’. The movie went on to become one of the most universally loved of all time, rivaling ‘Seven Samurai’ in its reputation, if not its influence.

And there is a reason why Ozu, despite earning worldwide reverence, did not influence world cinema as much as Kurosawa, or to some extent, as Mizoguchi. Ozu’s cinema – both the content and style – is the most personal. I have watched only three films of his, but having read about them has made me realize that Ozu is also the most difficult to watch and appreciate among the three. His cinema is an acquired taste, and an extremely exotic one. You want to watch his films because of his unique style, so unique that it is inimitable. Ozu manages to impress despite his obsessively economical use of the medium, and despite breaking some of the most important rules of shot-taking, because of the sensitivity his stories portray. It is difficult, and dangerous, to be influenced much by Ozu. But there is one thing we can learn from his cinema, or from Mizoguchi’s, and it is there in this Roger Ebert statement about the two, that to enter their world is to find “a film language that seems to create the mood it considers; the story and its style of telling are of one piece”. That, in my opinion, is the greatest achievement a filmmaker can have.

Having watched only a few films of Mizoguchi and Ozu perhaps does not enable me to comment on their cinema in general. However, I can not help but indulge in a comparative study of their films with Kurosawa’s. If Kurosawa creates amazing epics, and Mizoguchi narrates moving fables, Ozu calms you with his poetry. Kurosawa’s canvas seems to be covering the country’s rich and magnificent history, Mizoguchi paints socio-cultural portraits, while Ozu takes you into domestic lives of simple people, into their families. They thus address issues accordingly. Kurosawa is a man’s filmmaker, displaying valour and vengeance, but he can not match the sensitivity of Mizoguchi who can definitely be considered a woman’s filmmaker, and of Ozu, who cares more about the extremes of age – the kids and the old.

There is an opinion that Kurosawa was lucky to have achieved the biggest international acclaim, that he was perhaps not as good as his other two compatriots. But I do not agree with that. I have watched some of the lesser films of Kurosawa and I agree that there were certain merits in Ozu and Mizoguchi that Kurosawa could not match. But considering the very best of their films, I have no doubt to admit that Akira Kurosawa is rightly the most famous Japanese filmmaker. That, however, should not take any credit away from the others. In fact, discovering Japanese cinema can never be complete until you discover Mizoguchi and Ozu – they have told incredibly beautiful stories and displayed unmatchable mastery of the craft. It will only be apt to take the names of the three masters in one breath, as is often done while discussing the cultural history of cinema.

P.S. I foresee a follow-up to this post sometime in future as I discover other greats from Japan – Mikio Naruse, Nagisa Oshima, Seijun Suzuki, or the big name in modern Japanese cinema – Takeshi Kitano. I have only watched one movie each of them, and hence could not include them in this discussion.

Must Watch Before You Die #16: Breaking the Waves (1996)

2011-07-17T22:11:00.004+05:30

Lars von Trier is one of the most controversial filmmakers we have today. Infamous for creating trouble at Cannes every time he visits the festival, he also believes that he is the greatest director on the planet. I find his arrogance amusing, and perfectly in sync with his cinema. One of the founders of Dogme 95 movement (would discuss it later), von Trier is the compulsive rebel, and a genius at doing what he does.

I have watched only four of the fourteen feature films he has made till date (the last being ‘Melancholia’ (2011) that I’m eagerly awaiting). But that has been sufficient to make me understand the voice of this filmmaker. It is outrageous, and shocking, but most importantly, it is still profound. He is not one of those who indulge in sex and violence just for the sake of it, though the degree to which he goes is still open to debate. Even his most vehement critics would agree that he very well knows how to wrap his sensational content with relevant philosophical subtext. Even his extremely disturbing ‘Antichrist’ (2009) has so much to convey, as is evident by this wonderful essay on the movie.

But with ‘Breaking the Waves’ von Trier has created an everlasting masterpiece. Less disturbing than his other works, easier to watch despite its 150 minute running time, this film is one of the most profound expressions of love and faith on cinema. It is not even reasonable to start the discussion on its craft and performances, which might go on and on. Two things to mention, though: Martin Scorsese and Roger Ebert consider ‘Breaking the Waves’ as one of the ten best films of its decade. And the camerawork and editing of this movie has just given me the cinematic expression I was looking for one of my own works. Spending hours into its study is going to be a fulfilling exercise.

And for all you film buffs out there, ‘Breaking the Waves’ is my proud recommendation as a must watch. It is brutal, and harsh, and it is beautiful.

The Woman and the Man from the Old South

2011-07-14T14:53:00.004+05:30

I have had a copy of ‘Gone with the Wind’ for close to four years, but never dared watching it. The only reason was its daunting four-hour running time. A couple of days ago, on my 30-hour train journey, I watched five films, the first being this Victor Fleming historical. I feel relieved – as if a long-pending job is over. And I feel fulfilled – an unforgettable cinematic epic is now a part of my consciousness.

Adjusted for inflation, ‘Gone with the Wind’ would be the highest grossing film in the history of cinema. It played in certain theatres for more than 3-4 years. It is certainly as magnificent as a movie can be. It is also one of those rare instances where the film is believed to have done justice to its literary source, though I must confess that I haven’t read the Margaret Mitchell novel. In fact, I’m not sure whether I would ever read it. And that brings me to the biggest sense of fulfillment on watching the film.

The real triumph of the story of ‘Gone with the Wind’ is its two main characters – Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler. Although she might very well have been the heroine of an immortal Shakespearean tragedy, a protagonist as flawed as Scarlett is rare in cinema. I don’t think I’m wrong to believe that she is the most selfish and conceited of all characters in the story. And thus she attracts, unintentionally so, Rhett Butler, the compulsive non-committal philanderer, believing in his own morality and giving a damn to the world. There is nothing conventionally likeable about the two except, may be, their good-looks. Apparently, it is difficult to understand how a story with primary characters as corrupt as these secured such an insane amount of funding to be made into a film during the era dominated by the conventional studio mind-set. But the monumental success and popularity of the film proves that the audience related to them. This time, they did not worship the hero and the heroine for being superhumans of great character, valour, or beauty, but they empathized with the lead pair for being what they were – opportunistic, and self-centered. The audience loved the unapologetic characters because they were everything a man-animal (or a woman-animal) would secretly like to be, and they expressed something the society does not let us express. In fact, this very reason makes Scarlett and Rhett immortal and evergreen; they are as valid today as they ever were. Any story, based anywhere in the world, with these two as the lead pair would always be fascinating and more true than others involving more idealistic or romantic characters. I do not know whether I will have the patience to read the epic in its original form, but thanks to cinema, I will never forget this story of the Old South, and the woman and the man I could so relate to – two of the most lovable anti-heroes we will ever see.

Understanding Cinema Lecture: Cinema as Art

2011-07-14T12:34:00.002+05:30

It is easy to understand the narrative function of film, of studying film as a medium of telling stories, a medium for entertainment. So much so, that soon after its invention, cinema easily, and obviously, helped in the evolution of a commercial industry, with its own rules and surprises. But the medium is not limited to money-making or storytelling, and there are two other important functions of film: one, as a medium of communication (where the filmmaker wants to convey a point-of-view through his film, e.g. political and propaganda films, films carrying a strong social or philosophical message, and so on); and two, as a medium of pure art, free from its obligations of telling a story or communicating a message.

However, since film is one medium born out of form and obvious sensory signals, unlike poetry or music that are more abstract, it is very difficult for film to let go of its narrative function completely. Even an incoherent montage of shots, when perceived by the observer, inspires him to try to understand its ‘meaning’ or ‘purpose’. Stanley Kubrick had famously proposed a marked departure from this when he said: “A film is - or should be - more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what's behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later.” Going by what the famous art critic Walter Pater believes: “All art aspires to the condition of music”, we definitely can observe such a trend in cinema over all the decades of its journey. But the biggest question would still be, whether cinema is a form of art.

Art critics were initially disapproving of cinema’s acceptance as art, and considered it a technological gimmick, a passing fancy. Surprisingly and ironically, Louis Lumiere, who is credited as one of the inventors of motion picture himself believed that “cinema is an invention without a future.” It took cinema some decades and several films to ascertain its position as a form of artistic expression. And the credit for that goes to some of the greatest filmmakers who dared to take cinema beyond the dimensions of commercial entertainment or political statement. One of those masters was Satyajit Ray, and his most famous film, also his first – ‘Pather Panchali’, is considered by many as cinema’s great achievement as pure art.

‘Pather Panchali’ is not an easy film to watch. It requires patience to be enjoyed. It requires multiple viewings to appreciate its effortless beauty. And it requires watching hundreds of other films to realize its unique purity and truthfulness. Roger Ebert says “[Pather Panchali] is like a prayer, affirming that this is what the cinema can be…” This huge compliment is a sharp contrast to the understated, underplayed brilliance of the film, reading which can help us understand cinema’s potential as a form of art.

A musician uses musical notes arranged to form a melody, often based on a certain rhythm to create his music. A poet uses words and syntax, a painter uses colours and canvas. A filmmaker has three basic tools for his expression: the shot and everything contained in it (and eventually all individual shots), the arrangement of shots or the montage, and the sound underlying and connecting the shots. There are sequences in ‘Pather Panchali’ where the narrative is totally forgotten, and the filmmaker uses these three tools in order to create a moody audio-visual segment. If we let go of our preconceived notions about cinema’s narrative purpose and lose ourselves in the sensory effect that is thus created, it can affect us like music does – we react intuitively and instinctively to a sensation that is vague (vague because it does not necessarily ‘mean’ or ‘communicate’ something) but powerful and even memorable. This again is difficult, because cinema is more ‘obvious’ than music and always ‘seems’ to be trying to mean or communicate. Also we can not close our eyes to ‘float’ in it as we do while experiencing, say, a Pink Floyd instrumental number. In fact, I had never experienced ‘Pather Panchali’ like this until recently. Films like these are an acquired taste. Only now, I hope, watching the movie will be easier and each subsequent experience even more magical. ‘The Song of the Little Road’ – which is the literal translation of the movie’s title, seems so much more appropriate, when we are willing to experience it like music – what Kubrick had aspired and Pater had asserted.

Must Watch Before You Die #15: Underground (1995)

2011-07-03T23:49:00.007+05:30

I just got introduced to the cinema of Emir Kusturica, and watched one of his best known works - 'Underground'. The less you know about this movie before watching, the more you'll enjoy it. And you'll enjoy it more with subsequent repeat viewings. There is no harm in sharing this much though - the film is about Yugoslavia, a country that once existed, and tracks its political journey across fifty years.

However, 'Underground' is not your typical war-movie. There is nothing typical about it. At 2hrs 40 minutes, it might appear slightly longer, especially in the first half. But once you sit through it, you'll never forget its characters and moments. Insane and absurd. Political and poetic. Entertaining, and how! This film is one supreme achievement of the medium of cinema.

P.S. I love this thing about foreign-language movies - the insight they provide about different lands and cultures. I hardly cared about Yugoslavia till now. Frankly, I didn't even know it did not exist any more!

Dirty Picture!

2011-07-02T22:11:00.004+05:30

There is something about Aamir Khan Productions that, despite all mixed news and not-so-positive gossip, makes its movies work. And interestingly, these movies work at different levels, fulfilling their respective aspirations. So while ‘Lagaan’ was an epic commercial, critical, and even international success, ‘Taare Zameen Par’ made money by manipulating the audience’s emotions, apart from making ‘dyslexia’ known to Indians as they had known malaria! ‘Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na’ was never meant to be a path-breaking film, just to be loved by the young crowd, and launch Imran Khan. And it successfully did both. ‘Peepli [Live]’ and ‘Dhobi Ghaat’ were small films with different sensibilities. Though their commercial performance should not be a benchmark to judge them, they still made more money than better ‘small’ films made outside this production house.

And then comes ‘Delhi Belly’.

It seems Aamir Khan has gained tremendous notoriety because of the way he promotes his films. This opinion against him is as natural as is the sentiment against powerful, capitalist institutions and nations. I don’t belong to that group of critics. But I think it is unfortunate that lately his movies are known more for their promotion campaigns than for the movies themselves. It is unfortunate, that on this date, the words ‘Delhi Belly’ denote expletives-ridden, uninhibited, adult content, rather than a good movie, which it definitely is. It will be unfortunate if the movie fails to get rid of this image, which is not untrue, but does absolutely no justice to the more wonderful aspects of it – the incredibly crafted screenplay, the perfect casting, the finely balanced performances, and the self-belief that when everything is correct, a film finds its audience. However, the worse thing that might follow if the movie does succeed is – the credit of its success being given to its ‘foul’ language and ‘adult’ sensibilities. I shiver with the fear that more movies will try to follow this, instead of realizing the true merits of the film, and we will be served with bad and truly degenerate stuff. ‘Delhi Belly’ will then be remembered for another bad reason – for setting the trend of ‘dirty’ cinema.

Watched the first day first show. After a long, long time, I saw the Hindi film audience laughing and smiling and excited as they left exit doors of the theatre. And yes, almost all of them were younger than me!

Understanding Cinema Lecture: Italian Neorealism and ‘Bicycle Thieves’ (1948)

2011-06-29T23:50:00.000+05:30

Italian cinema in the early 40s was dominated by ‘white telephone’ films – a derogatory term to describe bland mainstream stories of the affluent class. This and the best of Hollywood provided the escapism the Italian audience aspired for – especially in the situation of poverty and depression post the Second World War. As a reaction to this, and further forced by limited resources, some film-makers started making starkly different films. Roberto Rossellini, Luchino Visconti, and Vittorio De Sica were the prominent makers who gave birth to a movement that has been celebrated in cinema history by the name of Italian Neorealism.

These films were strongly and unashamedly political, set among the poor and the unemployed. Instead of taking the audience on a fancy ride, they exposed the bitter reality of the contemporary period. Mostly shot on real locations, using natural light, simplistic camerawork and editing, and most importantly employing non-professional actors in leading roles, these films, perhaps intentionally, tried to imitate newsreels rather than movies, and hence appeared so much more real. They attacked the Church, the government institutions, and often did not provide any solution to the plight of their characters. The impact of these films on world cinema was exceptional. The Americans, especially, were pleasantly surprised at the realistic acting, a sharp contrast to the Hollywood style of acting during the then Studio Age. Academy Awards and other international recognitions followed, though the power and people of Italy remained allergic to these ‘grim’ films that were ‘washing their dirty linen in public’. But the biggest achievement of Italian Neorealism was that it freed cinema from the restricting domains of studios, sets, and stars.

A young Bengali artist, and film-buff, watched De Sica’s ‘Bicycle Thieves’ (1948), and decided to turn into a film-maker. He knew that if he had a powerful story to tell, he can just go ahead and shoot it, using non-professional actors, and in real locations using natural light. The boy was Satyajit Ray and the film that resulted – ‘Pather Panchali’ (1955) – went on to become the most celebrated Indian film around the world. Satyajit Ray was just one of the filmmakers inspired by Neorealism – the aesthetic style of which is evident in films all across the globe, over all decades that followed. From Bimal Roy’s ‘Do Beegha Zameen’ (1953) to Majid Majidi’s ‘Children of Heaven’ (1997), Italian Neorealism continues to be reflected in some of the most loved films we have seen.

Coming back to ‘Bicycle Thieves’, also known as ‘The Bicycle Thief’, I must share my first experience of it three years ago. I knew it was historically important but had never expected its impact would be so powerful. The lump in the throat remained throughout its 90 minutes, but the biggest blow came in the end. After the devastating climax, as the film closed, I shut the laptop, and let my emotions flow. I wanted to go back in time, to that part of the world, and somehow help Ricci and Bruno – two of the most unforgettable characters in film consciousness. Knowing that it was not possible, I cried, uninhibitedly, inconsolably. This, I’m sure, is a reaction common to everyone who loves the film. And I believe it will evoke the same reaction in anyone who watches it now, or even fifty years later. For its universality of emotional impact and timelessness, ‘Bicycle Thieves’ is a definite must-watch-before-you-die.

Understanding Cinema Lecture: Hollywood Studio System and Alfred Hitchcock

2011-06-23T12:03:00.004+05:30

The two decades of the 30s and the 40s are considered the Golden Period of American Cinema. The year 1946, in fact, is till date the most profitable year for Hollywood. This was also the period of the Studio System – when a handful of filmmaking companies dominated the American film business. Close to 75% of the revenue was shared by the Big Five – MGM, Fox, RKO, Paramount, and Warner Bros. Then there were the Little Three – Columbia, Universal, and United Artists. Their oligopoly was based on some malpractices like ‘block booking’, and in order to ensure greater profits, studios adopted Vertical Integration (that is, the entire chain from film production, distribution, to exhibition, being controlled by respective studios). The much controversial contract system bound talent (stars, directors, etc.) to different studios and the studio executives controlled the films they made – directors were often not allowed in the post-production stage. Films were treated as commodities, produced through an assembly line, with respective studios specializing in specific genres. However, the most important and long-lasting contribution of the Studio System was how it helped in the aesthetic evolution of cinema by development of certain styles and conventions – the concept of continuity-editing, maintaining the sense of verisimilitude, closure-ending, etc.

By the 50s, though, this dominance had ended. Some legislations passed during this period brought an end to the malpractices and vertical integration. Stars began to seek greater independence from the studios. A rise in independent productions, import tariffs imposed on American films abroad, migration of Americans to sub-urbs, and rise of the TV were other important factors that cause this change. The Studios are still functional, and to some extent they still dominate film-business, but the scope for independent players and for artistic expression beyond the control of studio executives is much more.

One major contribution of the Studio era was the evolution of the Classical Narrative – the classical way of story-telling on film. The rules were simple – tell a story the audience wants to hear, and in an easy to comprehend way. The chronology of events should be linear, from beginning of the story to end, with the permissible use of flashbacks for specific elaboration or exposition. Everything should be connected in the thread of cause and effect. The characters should be believable and must have clearly-defined wants and functions. The protagonist should be likeable and motivated to achieve his/her want against all odds. In the end, there should be a closure that would fulfill the audience. I believe it was important for the evolution of this narrative to make cinema such an integral part of the popular culture it is. I would also like to add that the Classical Narrative can be understood better when compared to other alternative forms of narration, including some that totally defied the narrative approach.

The lecture on 20th June covered these topics. And it was followed by a discussion on the cinema of Alfred Hitchcock,‘Vertigo’ (1958) in particular. It was interesting to see how the students reacted to this movie. Some thought it was painfully slow and predictable, some thought otherwise, and defended its ‘slow’ pace. Most of them liked the film, some even loved it. However, the acting of James Stewart did not go down too well with the students. They thought it was hilariously theatrical. Perhaps I would have felt the same as a 19-year old. But I’m happy that they have been introduced to the cinema of Hitchcock so early. This is a discovery they will thoroughly enjoy. And they too will wait for those blink-and-you-miss cameos by the master, who stood tall amidst the dominating Studio System, one of those few filmmakers who exerted complete control over his film-expression, and rose to the status of a star himself.

Must Watch Before You Die #13: Paths of Glory (1957)

2011-06-16T22:30:00.002+05:30

My reaction on discovering the genius of Kubrick and subsequent attempts to share the merits of his craft have been embarrassingly inadequate, although, perhaps he is the only great filmmaker about whom I have talked objectively in one of my earlier posts. But I am not uncomfortable in sharing my incapability to describe what his cinema does to me. Somehow, when it comes to talking about him, my favourite English-language filmmaker, I am always lost for words.

There is this much I can say - if there is one filmmaker whose individual filmography is sufficient to represent the best of the achievements of cinema, it is Stanley Kubrick. In a previous post of mine I talk about dividing the great filmmakers into 'authors' and 'masters of genre'. But when it comes to Kubrick, all efforts to classify and label him appear futile. Discovering his cinema can be one of the most enriching experiences of your life.

It is only obvious that a lot of his films will qualify for the 'must watch before you die' recommendation. But as I have stated earlier, I'll let the list grow as I watch (or re-watch) movies, without getting into the endless exercise of looking for movies from my past. So for now, let me recommend 'Paths of Glory', that I watched just today. Brilliant. Devastating. Unforgettable. Go for it, as this Kubrick worship of mine continues...

Understanding Cinema: Intro Lecture

2011-06-16T22:16:00.004+05:30

Film semiologist Christian Metz had famously stated that cinema is difficult to explain because it is easy to understand. Last Monday I started taking lectures at National College. The paper is ‘Understanding Cinema’ for the Second Year in Bachelor in Mass Media. Going by Metz, seems the work for the students (understanding cinema) is easy, but I’m up to a difficult task (explaining cinema)! More importantly, it is going to be a challenge to make the subject simple and accessible for those 19-20 year-olds, to encourage them to look at cinema with a new perspective, without trying to turn them to film makers, critics, or film scholars.

I’m therefore forced to devise a method to make that possible. So here is what I am doing, though it might appear contradictory to my intention. I have divided the batch into groups – filmmakers (writers, directors, producers, editors etc.), film journalists (including reporters, critics, and gossip columnists), marketing and promotion experts, and above all, audience. The students have respectively opted for the roles they want to play. I’ll try to encourage them to look at the movies to be screened with their perspectives as these professionals, and then try to initiate a discussion among them that would result in covering of the important topics. The flip side is that this method relies a lot on the participation of the students. But I’ve always been an advocate of making education interesting and involving, and hope I won’t be disappointed.

In the first lecture I also tried to cover topics like: ‘Star System in Hindi Film Industry’, ‘Hindi Formula Films’, and ‘Modern Hollywood Cinema’. These topics are to be covered as per University guidelines, but I believe the students already know about these. So I just tried to give them an enhanced perspective on these issues. The real fun begins from the second week when we will actually start ‘reading films’. Today the students were screened the first movie of the semester – Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Vertigo’ (1958). Looking forward to the discussion on Monday.

For Trivia Freaks

2011-06-15T22:33:00.002+05:30

Two Hindi films, about 30 years apart. Both were shot in the same state of

India

.
The names of the lead pair are the same. Also, the name of the male lead appears in the title of the first film.
The lead actress of the first film played the role of the hero’s mother in the second.
Also the narrator of both films is the same.

Watched Mrinal Sen’s ‘Bhuvan Shome’ today. There were merits in the film, telling the story of Bhuvan Shome sahab’s redemption. He is a middle-aged Railway Officer, a strict disciplinarian and a lonely widower leading a monotonous life. One day as he goes hunting, an encounter with a young woman brings about a subtle but important transition in him. He no more wants people to be scared of him. I loved that this graph of the story was not on-the-face but I thought the film itself was slightly over-indulgent. Also, the style was clearly inspired by the French New Wave and hence I can not give the film any credit for originality. By Hindi film standards, yes, it must have been an innovation, and an important film.

However, I loved the young Suhasini Mulay – she was spontaneous, natural, and raw. She should have done more films and I think it is our loss that she didn’t, until recently.

Well, today is the 10^th Anniversary of the other film in question. I no more respect its makers as much as I did back then, but this film will remain special for me, and for Hindi cinema.

Must Watch Before You Die #12: Soy Cuba (1964)

2011-06-12T22:39:00.002+05:30

I recently watched three extremely political films of historic and cinematic importance. However, two of them left me pretty unaffected. They must have been great films, but for me they were difficult to appreciate. Not knowing their respective backdrops also left me wondering what they were exactly about, and it took me some reading to make myself acquainted with their content. But once I did, I found it interesting.

Two groups had led the anti-German struggle in Poland during the Second World War – the London-directed Home Army and the pro-Moscow People’s Army. As the German occupation comes to a sudden end in May, 1945, amidst a confused transition, the pro-Soviet faction takes control, resulting into the emergence of a Russian-backed Communist regime. The Home Army reacts to this and a state of civil war is created. Andrzej Wajda’s ‘Ashes and Diamonds’ (1958) is one day into the lives (and deaths) of characters from both parties – the Communist regime and the armed adversaries.

Jean Pierre-Melville’s ‘Army of Shadows’ (1969) tells an even more personal story of the French Resistance against the German occupation during the same war. The French government had surrendered on June, 1940 signing an armistice that provided for the German occupation of northern France. The struggle by some Frenchmen against this occupation came to be known as the Resistance, and soon the French government was helping the Germans suppress them with its own police and special forces. ‘Army of Shadows’ is a tragic insight into the difficult lives and dilemmas of these heroes of the Resistance.

Both these movies are highly acclaimed and celebrated over the years. And I can understand why, especially after reading about them. But perhaps it will take me some time, some years may be, to adequately appreciate them.

This, however, was not the case with ‘Soy Cuba’ (1964). Though clearly a propaganda film, and relying much more on form and style than the above-mentioned couple of films, this film by Mikheil Kalatozov will blow you away. I have never seen something like this. The film was not released after its completion and the world discovered it only three decades later. According to Martin Scorsese, the face of world cinema would have shaped differently if this film had got its due when it was made.

Following is the poem that opens the film along with a stunning imagery that makes it one of the best opening sequences in cinema:

I am Cuba.
Columbus landed here once.
He wrote in his diary,
“This is the most beautiful land
Human eyes have ever seen.”
Thank you, Mr. Columbus.
When you saw me for the first time,
I was singing and laughing,
I greeted the tufted sails,
I thought they brought me happiness.

I am Cuba.
My sugar was carried away in ships.
But my tears were left behind.
Sugar is a strange thing, Mr. Columbus.
So many tears go into it,
And still it's sweet.

It is poetic, and it is vitriolic. ‘Soy Cuba’ is as powerful as cinematic expression can get. I’m so glad that this film is now a part of my must-watch recommendation. You have to watch it before you die!

Philosopher’s Comedy, Warrior’s Tears

2011-06-03T13:42:00.005+05:30

Great filmmakers have often been, and arguably so, divided into two categories: the auteur (“author”) and the metteur en scene (“scene-setter”). To be classified as an "auteur", film critic Andrew Sarris argues, a director must accomplish three things: technical competence in technique, a personal visual style, and an interior meaning running through the various film “texts” made by him/her. I believe all such auteurs, through the body of their works, become genres by themselves. Fellini, Tarkovsky, Bergman, Kurosawa, and lately David Lynch, are not just filmmakers. They are authors, who write on celluloid with their distinctive styles; their movies collectively form ‘genres’, rich and influential, and inimitable. A greater achievement, perhaps, has been made by Alfred Hitchcock. He obviously qualifies as an auteur (going by Sarris’ criteria), but goes beyond by operating within the confines of the ‘suspense’ genre, and often setting rules for it. He relies on telling a story powerfully, without dwelling into intricate and esoteric artistry, profound philosophy, or surrealistic puzzles. And despite numerous well-made suspense films by other filmmakers, no one has been able to match the legendary stature and the popularity of the Master of the genre.

The second category is of the matteur en scene. They do have an aesthetic style detectable in their works, but they do not qualify as authors. I have tried to understand the basis of this classification. Perhaps this term is used for directors whose filmography lacks a thematic, philosophical, or artistic consistency, but they achieve great success by operating within the genre-system and often creating memorable works. So a John Ford film can be a great Western or a great Drama, but the words ‘John Ford’ do not refer to any particular ‘genre’. He might be a great director, but his work lacks an authorial signature. If my understanding is correct, despite a great body of work Steven Spielberg remains a ‘matteur en scene’, but Jim Jarmusch is an ‘auteur’.

This discussion is a reaction to two movies I watched recently – ‘Smiles of a Summer Night’ by Ingmar Bergman, and ‘I Live in Fear’ by Akira Kurosawa, two of the greatest auteurs, trying to do something they often don’t. The usually philosophical and dark Bergman presents a romantic comedy, and the creator of epic historical and Samurai stories, Kurosawa, narrates a modern, urban tale of a family torn by its patriarch’s phobia of the nuclear weapons. The former was very good, though its impact on me might not be as that of Bergman’s other works. But the latter was ordinary, suggesting yet again that perhaps Kurosawa can not match the effortless brilliance of his compatriots Kenji Mizoguchi and Yasujiro Ozu when it comes to telling extremely personal, sensitive stories involving families and women. Even ‘Ikiru’, which is perhaps Kurosawa’s best attempt at telling a personal and modern story, changes its course and becomes, albeit an excellent, social commentary on modern life and urban corruption.

These two movies make me think further – perhaps the ‘auteurs’ are at their best when they operate within the genres they have created for themselves. And this perhaps is the biggest argument against them. A Billy Wilder might not be an author, but has made some great comedies (‘The Apartment’, ‘Some Like it Hot’), and stays in supreme form while making a Noir like ‘Double Indemnity’. Perhaps not being much of an artist, but a master craftsman enables him to do great work in whatever genre he attempts. As I discover more great makers and movies, this discussion will continue. Watching a comedy by Hitchcock would be a great case study!

P.S. The views expressed in this article are ‘controversy-genic’. However, it must be insisted that the attempt here is not to compare and criticize the great filmmakers mentioned above, but to try to understand the mechanism behind their greatness.

Boxing with the Idiot

2011-05-23T00:22:00.000+05:30

Eva Green’s cinephile character in ‘The Dreamers’ proudly claims that she does not watch TV. ‘We are purists, the purest of the pure.’ That moment in this amazing film is what I could relate most to. I don’t have a TV set, I don’t want one. And I consciously stay away from the best of American TV – soaps that have a huge fan-following all around the world. I’m sure they must be well-made, and I would love them, but I’m afraid of being addicted. Reason – they will encroach into my movie-time!

Cinema, or at least the movie-watching trend in theatres, has never felt as threatened by anything as by the ‘Idiot Box’. In fact, various evolutionary milestones in the history of cinema were reactions to the advent of TV. For example, despite having produced successful colour blockbusters in the 30s, B&W movies continued to be made in Hollywood, so much so that 88% of those released in the year as late as 1947 were in B&W. Then came the TV, moving images brought home in a small box, gaining popularity in the 50s. In order to keep the audience interested, as many as 50% of the movies adopted colour. And when colour TV came in the 60s, it was the end of B&W era for cinema.

Another innovation made to counter the threat was the adoption of the Widescreen. The Aspect Ratio of 1.66:1 or more provided a visual experience that TV could not emulate. This not only led to dramatic changes in the cinema aesthetics: exploring the horizontal space, and using longer, uninterrupted shots as each frame was now wide enough to display a close up, a medium shot and a wide angle simultaneously, it also led to a natural proliferation of genres more suited to this format, like the Historical Epics and Westerns.

Hollywood also started experimenting with 3D as a ploy against the TV. The early attempts were flawed. However, the evolution continued and today 3D movies provide a strong attraction for the audience to come to the theatres. The idea is to provide them with something they do not usually experience, as is the idea behind the IMAX (Image Maximization) technology: to fill the field of human vision by producing an image as large as 20 metres high and 26 metres wide. OMNIMAX (or IMAX DOME) uses a fisheye lens for projecting a 165-degree image on a giant dome screen surrounding the viewer with high-fidelity sound, thus increasing the spectator's feeling of immersion.

These technological advances, however, continue to affect cinema in more ways than one. With improved CGI (Computer Generated Imagery) technology, the option of 3D, and a giant screen for projection, movie theatres are turning to amusement parks, with the preferred genres being Sci-Fi, Action-Adventure, and Fantasy. Drama, the most prominent film genre, is dying a slow death. Filmmaking was once a costly business. Today, with inexpensive but good-quality digital cameras around, anyone can shoot a Drama or a Comedy and upload it on the internet. In fact, the current American media is already showing such trends, where the genre of Drama is being limited to its widely popular soaps and serials. It will be interesting to see how, in the years to come, cinema responds to this. More technological innovations and increased focus on specific genres will be the oxygen for movie theatres. And perhaps the only way for Dramas, Comedies and Art-house/Experimental cinema to find its audience would be the way through the idiot box.

(A lot in this post comes from ‘Studying Film’, a book by Abrams, Bell, and Udris.)

P.S. On the insistence of a dear friend, I just finished watching Episode 1 of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’, something that seems to be tailor-made for me, because of its setting in a hospital and the characters being young doctors – things which have already become nostalgia-elements for me. Seems I have taken the first step towards exploring something I kept delaying till today. And the first thing that came to the mind of this “purest of the pure” on watching the first episode was to start the second!

Must Watch Before You Die #11: The Apartment (1960)

2011-05-21T22:29:00.004+05:30

There are films that transcend the ‘cinema as art or entertainment’ debate and end up as examples of supreme achievement of the medium. One of those immortal classics is Billy Wilder’s ‘The Apartment’. Its script is one of the best you are ever going to read, and reading which remains pleasurable whether you have watched the film or not. (Click here for the screenplay). And Wilder re-writes it impeccably on screen through his masterful use of the tools of the craft, and of art.

‘The Apartment’ is a must-watch because:

• Of its wonderful and memorable performances. Note how the actors make sure you empathize with their characters without being overtly dramatic, and at the same time keep things funny without trying too hard.

• Of its immortal dialogue.

• Of how the movie stays true to its genre – which I believe is its biggest achievement. It is handling the issues of forbidden and extra-marital sex, lonely but ambitious city life, and romance, without losing its fun feel. For the self-assured balance it maintains, this film will remain a text book for all filmmakers.

• Of its universality and ability to entertain at any given time, it will always have the widest reach to the audience.

This film was entirely copied in one of the stories of ‘Life in a Metro’. So I was aware of the graph its story. Despite this, and I can never forgive Anurag Basu for that, ‘The Apartment’ has made a huge, and I hope an everlasting, impact on me. I am also confident that the repeat viewings are going to be even better, effectwise, and otherwise-wise!

A River Ran Through It

2011-05-20T22:22:00.006+05:30

Until recently I thought Mumbai was a peninsula. It was a day of revelation when I realized it is actually an island – the Mumbai City and the Suburban Mumbai are actually surrounded by water from all sides and connected to the Indian mainland only through road and rail bridges. And today, another geographical truth hit me. There is a river running through Mumbai – it originates in Sanjay Gandhi National Park and after traveling 18 kilometers through the heart of Suburban Mumbai, it joins the Arabian Sea at Mahim Bay, near the now-famous Bandra-Worli Sea Link. I realized today that the filthy, stinking ‘naala’ that we cross while traveling on the local train between Mahim and Bandra is actually what has remained of the same river – Mithi – its name all but a misnomer today.

These recent discoveries about Mumbai are like discovering some essential truths about your beloved after being in the relationship for three years. And then you start looking at her, and at yourself, with a different and enhanced perspective.

So I’m thankful to a friend of mine who invited me for the screening of her documentary film on the Mithi River. ‘Making the Sewer a River Again: Why Mumbai Must Reclaim its Mithi’ is a small but hard-hitting film on the sad state of the river. Most of it is like a horror story, like most discussions involving man’s misadventures with nature. And you sit through it captivated and tensed, especially if you love nature, and more so, if you love Mumbai. But it ends with a hope, that if we work towards reclaiming the river, we can actually have an 18-kilometer long stretch of river-park corridor, with water fountains, pedestrian bridges, cycling-tracks, amusement centres, concert halls for performing arts, and even roadside shopping stalls. It can be one beautiful site of tourist attraction, like Venice, and a river will run through Mumbai again.

What can we do at this stage to help this ambitious initiative? It is simple. Just watch the film by clicking here. And forward the link to as many as you can. If you love Mumbai as much as I do, you’ll find this simple exercise extremely fulfilling.

European Art

2011-05-09T12:58:00.003+05:30

A mundane rural area scattered with ruined buildings is the site of a meteorite that landed on earth twenty years ago. The meteorite was never found, but it was rumored that the site had the potential to fulfill a person’s innermost desires. As the government has declared the area, or the Zone, out of bounds, a Stalker (guide) illegally leads his two clients to the forbidden place – a dangerous expedition where the three will approach the unknown to seek their deepest desires.

Consider this plot. And you would agree that it has the potential to become a gripping sci-fi mystery Hollywood thriller, full of unpredictable twists, visual effects, and action. But then you watch Andrei Tarkovsky’s ‘Stalker’ (1979), and find it completely different from your expectations. It is long (close to 165 minutes), slow (only 140 shots cover the entire film, many lasting more than four minutes), and demands extreme patience. Most of it is in sepia, devoid of colours, and there is hardly anything fantastic to watch, with no visual effects at all, except for some normal trickery in the celebrated closing shot of the film. Yet, it is one of the most acclaimed works of the Russian master. And I believe it is European Art Cinema at its best.

What Tarkovsky has achieved through his unique cinematic language is not a sci-fi thriller, but a poem in a sci-fi setting, not a roller-coaster ride through plot elements, but a study of the characters, going deep into their minds, and fears and obsessions, away from the materialistic scenario the plot promises to deliver. By consciously, and painfully so, staying away from the genre parameters, he has penned a novel on film, and has delivered one of the most personal and truly artistic movies ever made. I have always found Tarkovsky the most difficult filmmaker to watch, and did require more than one sitting to finish ‘Stalker’, but could watch it again as soon as it ended. The best of European cinema guarantee you this – that the movie experience will rise much above the promise made by the premise, genre conventions will be demolished under the powerful voice of the auteur, and the impact will last a lifetime, unlike the weekend Hollywood entertainer.

Following is the poem that ends the film. Read this and imagine how it can conclude a film that belongs to the sci-fi genre:

“I love your eyes, my darling friend,
Their play, so passionate and brightening,
When a sudden stare up you send,
And like a heaven-blown lightening,
It’d take in all from end to end.

“But there is more that I admire:
Your eyes when they’re downcast,
In bursts of love-inspired fire,
And through the eyelash goes fast,
A somber, dull, call of desire…”

P.S. Here is another plot:

Rome, 1938. A weak-willed Italian man, working for Mussollini, is ordered to assassinate his one-time professor in Paris. He takes his young and beautiful wife, whom he has just recently married, with him, for supposedly a honeymoon. But on reaching Paris, he discovers his professor has married a former love of his, and the two of them work together in their fight against the Fascists. Can our protagonist kill them both and fulfill his duty?

On the surface it appears like a regular political thriller. Watch Bernardo Bertolucci’s ‘The Conformist’ (1969) to discover how a piece of art, a visual masterpiece has been constructed from this. Nobody does it better than the Europeans.

Crowd-Sourcing and 'Source Code'

2011-05-06T21:16:00.005+05:30

Watched 'I Am'. I was not interested in the movie per se. But in what went behind its making. The director and his associates approached friends and the aam janta to contribute for the movie. 400 people from 45 different cities across the world made financial contributions. Though not a first, this film will remain a fine example of what resolve and relationships can do. For those involved, I believe, being able to make it possible would have been the matter of greater pride, over what they finally made. And even otherwise, the movie does work, because of its issues, stories and, as Rajeev Masand rightly puts - its 'inherent honesty'. I would not say it was a very good film, but definitely worth a watch. Even on a very critical note, I'll have to admit that each story in itself was so affecting that my attention to technical deficiencies gradually waned. And there was not much to complain about.

Also watched the sci-fi thriller 'Source Code' that according to Roger Ebert is the best movie of the year yet. I hope that is not true, though I liked it a lot. Two things that I felt about it - one, the same merits that make it a good film, are its limitations and keep it short of being great; and two, it is a fairy tale, after all... For debating with me on these points you'll have to watch the film. Do it. You will be entertained, for sure.

Must Watch Before You Die #10: '8 1/2' (1963)

2011-04-23T21:05:00.006+05:30

Most 'must-watch' films are great. Some are really unique in their intent, approach, and achievement. Almost all of them are unforgettable. And then there is '8 1/2'...

Many filmmakers are great. They defy the genres and develop their own cinematic expression. Some of them truly earn the reputation of artists. They dare and they do. And then there is Federico Fellini...

A film about the making of a film, and that film is the film itself. Aptly described as "a self-reflexive modernist art-film fairy tale" by Marilyn Fabe in the book 'Closely Watched Films', '8 1/2' is the best way cinema could celebrate itself... It is outrageous, and it is sheer magic.

"I thought my ideas were so clear. I wanted to make an honest film. No lies whatsoever. I thought I had something so simple to say. Something useful to everybody. A film that could help to bury forever all those dead things we carry within ourselves. Instead, I'm the one without the courage to bury anything at all. And now I'm utterly confused... I wonder why things turned out this way. When did I go wrong? I really have nothing to say, but I want to say it all the same."

Must Watch Before You Die #9: ‘Chicago’ (2002)

2011-04-18T09:12:00.002+05:30

I remember that evening, one of the many horrifying ones, during the fresher term of my AFMC life. The seniors were hell-bent on ‘orienting’ us during that period of six weeks. And twice each week, we could escape the post-dinner session with seniors – Tuesdays and Fridays – they were movie days. In the Open Air Theatre of our college, movies are still screened twice each week. But during the fresher term it was more than a movie theatre – it was the place where we could sit with dignity and relief, and smile. Even back then, movies were what relieved us from our everyday trauma. So, I remember that evening when ‘Chicago’ was screened, and I was anticipating something wonderful – it had won the Best Picture Oscar a few months ago. I remember being disappointed – nothing in the movie made sense to me. Back then, not many English movies made sense to me.

‘Sound of Music’ was perhaps the first Musical I really enjoyed. Three years into my college life, I had already discovered cinema. I wondered – why doesn’t Hollywood produce more movies with songs and dance – they did it so well! My review of that film was perhaps my first User Review on IMDB. I showed that movie to my mom. I kept watching the songs repeatedly. I downloaded the lyrics and sang along. I still do.

So later, after having loved ‘All That Jazz’ and ‘Sweeny Todd’ and ‘My Fair Lady’, I was looking forward to watch ‘Chicago’ again. This time, I was sure, it would be magical.

And magical it was. It has been close to one month now, since I watched this Rob Marshall film for the first time. And my brother and I keep revisiting it again and again. I watched a portion of it in altered sense of consciousness this Holi, and what a trip it was! But all this while I kept wondering – whether I should recommend it here as a Must-Watch. I really wanted to, but my mind cautioned me – recommending ‘Chicago’ would mean recommending a whole bunch of musicals. After all, the critic world-over rate many other musicals above it.

But when I found myself revisiting the movie compulsively, so much so that it started interfering with my writing; when I kept humming the songs for days altogether – even during the World Cup euphoria; when Renee Zellweger’s charm started chasing me even in my dreams, and I obsessed myself with the plans of making a Musical, how could I keep listening to the sterile logic of my dominant cerebral hemisphere? So here it is - my first recommendation in months – ‘Chicago,’ a movie that you will fall in love with. And I don’t care how many Musicals I end up recommending on this blog.

“I’m a star. And the audience loves me, and I love them. And they love me for loving them and I love them for loving me. And we love each other. And that’s ‘cause none of us got enough love in our childhoods.” – Roxie Hart in ‘Chicago’

Deserving Winner

2011-04-13T22:17:00.004+05:30

It has been really hectic all these days. There were so many things I wanted to write about, but just could not get the time. I wanted to write about a conversation I had with Kundan Shah a few weeks ago. I can summarize that as: “Do not cater to the audience. But respect them.” I wanted to write about Sudhir Mishra’s ‘Dharavi’ – that I managed to catch on big screen, and which is definitely one of the better Hindi films you will see. And I wanted to write about the best birthday gift I have received in a long time – a 9-movie collection, all Satyajit Ray films.

But yesterday was such an important day that I forced myself to find time and write these words. As mentioned in a previous post, I had been mentoring the making of a 3D film, a non-fiction visual poem on the town of Vrindavan. Yesterday was the award ceremony. Our film stood 3rd and won the Best Editing award. (The only other awards were Best Cinematography and Best Film). The winning team is going to have a trip to Hollywood and I was a little disappointed. But in the end, I think they were the deserving winners – ‘Goli Aatam’ – a Tamil film about a little girl who challenges a bunch of boys in a game of marbles.

But there is more news. The organizers have selected one film to be sent to Panasonic Japan. And that is ours. More than anything, we are proud of the movie we made, and are glad to be part of an experience we will never forget. Some of the readers of this blog contributed in the making. I must thank them for everything they did.

After the award function, I went to watch ‘The King’s Speech’. And despite my awareness about the movie’s subject, it moved me deeply. I was amazed by ‘Black Swan’ and dazzled by ‘Inception’. And I really appreciated ‘The Social Network’ and ‘True Grit’. But ‘The King’s Speech’ in my opinion really deserved the Best Picture Oscar. Cerebral entertainment is great, and a difficult thing to achieve. But being able to appeal to the heart is even more difficult. And more often than not, they do it by keeping things simple. Two winners – ‘The King’s Speech’ at the Oscars, and ‘Goli Aatam’ at Panasonic Dimensions, just reinforced that.

Here are the links for you to have a glimpse at the competition, and what we did there:

And here is a Triveni that closes the chapter for me, and opens others:

एक अवार्ड फंक्शन में हार मिली आज;
अभी चाँद तले मरीन ड्राइव पर बैठा हूँ।

और क्या-क्या देगा ये शहर मुझे - ये ख़याल है...

Just Another Obsession…

2011-03-16T02:24:00.003+05:30

People collect stamps, coins, and items of artistic importance. I collect movie ticket stubs. I was waiting for a long time to share this on this blog. A few days ago, the 100th stub entered my album (actually a card holder). Thought, this news must be celebrated in this space.

The collection contains remnants of various movies, good and bad, I have watched over a few years, and across cities like Pune, Noida, and Lucknow, but mainly Mumbai. Some are as old as the first-day-first-show of ‘Rang De Basanti’. But most of them date back to only a couple of years. 33 of them are first-day-first-shows. Also, I have watched as many as 36 of these movies alone. The festival passes of French classics ‘Pieerot le fou’, ‘Cleo de 5 a 7’ and ‘Jules et Jim’, and the ticket stub of ‘DDLJ’ at Maratha Mandir on my brother’s birthday are special. Also, there are four premiere/preview passes, including ‘Udaan’. But my proudest possession is ‘The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly’. It was the time when Hindi films were not released due to a conflict between producers-distributors-exhibitors. This Sergio Leone film, one of my favourites, was being screened at Sterling. The moment I read about it in the newspaper, I was on my way to the theatre. It was the most urgent decision I have ever taken to go for a movie. Most of the crowd in the theatre was older people, who must have cherished this movie way back in the 60s and 70s. My brother and I were the youngest, and the only ones to clap and whistle and scream as the movie unfolded on the big screen. This little stub in my album will always remind me of the joy I felt that day. Many more to come, hopefully.

Favourite Firangi

2011-03-09T18:39:00.002+05:30

If I have to choose one international filmmaker I have most closely followed, as I have done with a Vishal Bhardwaj or an Ashutosh Gowariker, it has be Darren Aronofsky. His cinema has always affected me, and several others of my generation, but more than that I’m fascinated by his personal journey as a filmmaker. I have watched all his feature films. And today I watched his latest – my first Aronofsky film on big screen. Here is an account of my discovery of him.

I was not particularly interested in watching ‘Requiem for a Dream’, although it was extremely popular in our hostel. I am generally turned off when a film is popular for its sensational content (it was a drug movie), or for the individual brilliance of its ‘shots’. And this film left everyone talking about both. So, I started watching it reluctantly. When it ended, it had changed my vision as a filmmaker. I remember making notes on the innovations that film brought on screen. But the impact was mainly at a deep psychological level. ‘Requiem’ is not a drug-film. It is a film about love and alienation, about dreams and obsessions, about the fragilities of human mind. And then I realized what the film called itself. Suddenly, it was a profound film before my eyes, and its maker – someone I had to follow.

‘Requiem’ is one of the most popular ‘rare’ films in boys’ hostels around the country. So, there were many fans, and we soon managed to find Aronofsky’s first film, ‘Pi’ (1998). After the film ended, I sat for 45 minutes, making notes on what it was about, and was glad to ‘interpret’ it in my own way. I don’t know how correct I was. But since then I realized the importance of independent cinema. Made on an initial budget of $60,000, with contributions from family and friends, the film became a huge critical success, and grossed 50 times its investment. This was Aronofsky’s first film. If I think of it today, arranging its equivalent of Rs 30 Lakhs does not seem much of a problem, getting an idea like ‘Pi’ does. The success of his first film led him to make the $4.5 million ‘Requiem’ in 2000.

We were waiting anxiously for his next film. Made after Aronofsky declined the offer to direct ‘Batman Begins’, ‘The Fountain’(2006), is a timeless love-story, incredibly shot, and featuring some great performances, but a commercial disaster. It was the most ambitious and indulgent Aronofsky film, $35 million went in its making. It was difficult to comprehend, and did not have the thrilling nature of his first two films. But for his worshippers like us, it was a big thing. He had upheld our trust in him. We thought of him as a cerebral, fearless filmmaker, and he had delivered more than expected.

So, we were disappointed when his next ‘The Wrestler’ (2008) arrived. It was a very good film. But it was not a Darren Aronofsky film, we thought. However, the trade didn’t mind and the film became his biggest commercial success, and was also critically acclaimed. It changed my perception of him. I thought, and perhaps rightly so, the filmmaker now wanted to surprise us, and more importantly, surprise himself. Thus he made a film no one would have thought he would make. And he proved that he can tell a simple story with as much finesse as his cerebral, surreal tales.

Cut to 2010. ‘Black Swan’ was in my list of ‘Dying to watch these fresh and upcoming films’ that you find on the sidebar of this blog for months. The world is already raving about it, so there is hardly anything that I can add. I would just say this – a filmmaker who can manage to blend the best of writing, drama, music, dance, and art into cinema is for me the truly complete filmmaker. After all, this is what cinema is all about, a confluence of the best forms of expressions. I had the downloaded version of ‘Black Swan’ on my laptop for a month but I waited for its theatrical release. And I’m so happy today. To be honest, one reason for that happiness is that the film gave us our original cerebral and psychological master back.

Melodrama

2011-02-12T22:27:00.002+05:30

While watching Pedro Almodovar's 'All About My Mother' (1999) today, I felt the need to find the definition of 'Melodrama'. Those who are familiar with the popular Hindi film tradition may feel they already know what the word means. But since, Hindi films hardly follow genre conventions, they might find it difficult to define. Hence the need to read what experts say. Following are excerpts from various sources:

The term melodrama refers to a dramatic work which exaggerates plot and characters in order to appeal to the emotions. [Wikipedia]

In film, the term 'melodrama' denotes a subgenre of the drama film which generally depends on stereotyped character development, interaction, and highly emotional themes. Melodramatic films tend to use plots that appeal to the heightened emotions of the audience, often dealing with "crises of human emotion, failed romance or friendship, strained familial situations, tragedy, illness, neuroses, or emotional and physical hardship". Film critics sometimes use the term "pejoratively to connote an unrealistic, pathos-filled, campy tale of romance or domestic situations with stereotypical characters (often including a central female character) that would directly appeal to feminine audiences."[Wikipedia, T. Dirks]

My observation is that the script of a melodrama relies mainly on coincidences, twists in the plot affecting the characters. The following statement by Sidney Lumet sums this up: "In a well-written drama, the story comes out of the characters. The characters in a well-written melodrama come out of the story."

'All About My Mother', in my opinion, is the perfect example of a Melodrama Film. And it is a successful one as well. I recommend this to everyone - at least it will easily illustrate what goes wrong when 'lesser' filmmakers try this difficult genre.

P.S. The film ends with a post-script:
"To Bette Davis, Gena Rowlands, Romy Schneider...
To all actresses who have played actresses...
To all women who act...
To men who act and become women...
To all the people who want to be mothers...
To my mother."

Also, you will enjoy the movie more if you have watched the classics 'All About Eve' and 'A Streetcar Named Desire'.

Another Dimension

2011-02-12T13:42:00.002+05:30

Some exciting things are happening. I am presently in Vrindavan, shooting a 3D documentary. The project came as a surprise; I wasn’t expecting to get into something like this anytime soon. But now I am enjoying it thoroughly.

It started with a workshop at Lonavla held between 29th January and 1st February. Panasonic is launching a 3D camera – AG-3DA1, and to create a market, and this far-sight is admirable, they decided to introduce this to the students of film schools around India. So teams from seven film schools signed up, and each was given a mentor from Mumbai film industry. I am one of the seven mentors and, I must admit, the least experienced of them all. All of us attended this 3D camera workshop. Our instructor was Barry Braverman from LA, a cinematographer and 3D expert.

It was a wonderful experience. Apart from the luxury of the scenic resort at Lonavla, it was the introduction to a new technology that we truly cherished. 3D opens the doors to an enhanced visual expression in cinema. This is something all of us already knew. What we didn’t know was the limitations of this technology. I won’t go into technical details, but let me just state this for you. You can not shoot close-ups in 3D – a hand counting notes, a gun being loaded, lips kissing – nothing. You can get a medium-close-up of faces, but have to make sure that no part of the face is outside the frame. That is, you can not cut the upper part of the head and the lower face in 3D, something that is often done in 2D cinematography. Also, it is extremely difficult to push in the camera forwards, with objects in the frame moving towards the camera, unless it is done extremely fast.

Apart from these general ‘contraindications’ of the 3D technology, there are more limitations imposed upon us by this user-friendly camera, which is otherwise good enough. It is a digital camera, making things less expensive, but it has all limitations of digital cinematography. It doesn’t have a wide-angle lens. We can not zoom in during the shot, at least not in every situation. And the worst of all – we can not change its FPS (Frames per Second), hence we can not shoot in slow or fast motion. (Please refer to ‘Getting Cinemate’ section of this blog to understand about FPS and Lens, if required).

Understanding the merits and demerits of technology is essential for every level of filmmaking. The writer of a 3D film can NOT write something like: “We look into her eyes, brimming with tears. She blinks, and a tear drop makes its way down her cheek. The drop falls on the dried-up rose petal nestled in the yellowed pages of her old diary.” It will be nearly impossible to visually interpret these lines. Interesting, uh?

I advised my team to make a non-fiction film, more of a visual poetry than a documentary. They, being from Delhi, suggested we capture Vrindavan. I am captivated by this place and hope the film my team makes is a truly beautiful experience, especially with the addition of ‘the new dimension’. By the way, it is tentatively titled: ‘Krishnamaya: God Lives with Them’.

W(n)ot a Film!

2011-01-23T20:40:00.005+05:30

“By any stretch of imagination, it can not be called a film” is what a friend of mine feels about ‘Dhobi Ghaat’. Aamir Khan, slowly gaining notoriety for the way he aggressively markets his films, has always maintained that this film would not appeal to the traditional Indian audience. There are people calling it boring, others praising it for its ‘freshness’. For me, it is neither. It is one of those numerous ‘hyperlinked’ films that world cinema has witnessed since ‘The Killing’ (1956) or even earlier, and what has been a fashionable trend among the movies of the last decade. By Hindi film standards, it is both fresh and slow, and even unaffecting. And this time I am not even ‘happy that a film like this got widespread release in India’. Being the wife of one of the most powerful men in the industry has done the trick. Kiran Rao has been fortunate in that sense, but that does not, in any way, mean that she is not talented.

The writer-director has made a film she can be proud of. It is not a great piece of cinema, but it is very well done. It is sure of its intent, and its content, or the apparent lack of it. It has its own way of affecting you, but as one leading film critic rightly wrote, it is an ‘acquired taste’. We can ‘acquire’ that taste only by watching films like these. And the presence of a superstar in this otherwise ‘small’ film will surely bring more people into the theatres. That is the only saving grace for the atrocious decision of casting Aamir Khan, who disappoints in his portrayal of the reclusive painter. Awkward with his English lines, he seems to be trying too hard, failing the character that, after a long time, suited him in all its dimensions. ‘Dhobi Ghaat’ proves once again that an actor ‘bigger’ than the character can never do justice to it. Correct casting is what Akira Kurosawa considered ‘the most important part of filmmaking besides writing’. I would like to add another exercise in the list, and that is ‘acting workshops and rehearsals’. I believe these are the reasons why Kriti Malhotra playing the girl in the videotapes is a delight to watch. And Prateik and Monica Dogra fit into their roles to near perfection.

I don’t expect the film to be widely loved. But I do hope that more and more people watch films like these. Because the coming generation of Hindi filmmakers is actually going to ‘stretch the imagination’ of the Indian audience, including the aforesaid friend of mine, and redefine what can be called cinema. ‘Dhobi Ghaat’ is a small step in that direction.

P.S. After watching the film, please try to answer this – why was it given an Adult certificate? As I type these words, small kids near my building are dancing to ‘Sheela’. It is some celebration down there, and they are lip-syncing to ‘Sheela ki jawani… I’m too sexy for you…’ whatever!

Must Watch Before You Die #8: 'Anatomy of a Murder' (1959)

2011-01-14T23:37:00.004+05:30

The first release of the year was a disappointment for me. I expected a lot from Rajkumar Gupta and his 'No One Killed Jessica'. The subject had the potential of a world-class film. But the best compliment it can generate is frankly 'good by Indian standards'. Still, there are reasons to be happy. The film is a certified hit. A decade ago, it was impossible to imagine a film like this could be made. Hindi cinema is changing, definitely.

But a lot needs to be done. A couple of days after 'Jessica', I watched a 2hr 40min courtroom trial drama. And I believe Otto Preminger's 'Anatomy of a Murder' is one of the best trial movies we will ever see.

The movie is a must watch for:

The unforgettable characters. The lady victim is promiscuity personified. We are not made to sympathize with her, but wonder at her state-of-mind. Her husband accused of the murder is a cool, composed armyman pleading not guilty on the grounds of insanity! And then we have the Judge and his sense of humour, the confident and suave prosecution lawyer, and our protagonist - the defense lawyer played by the ever-dependent James Stewart, who loves fishing possibly more than practicing law. Add to this the person whose murder we are dissecting. He is never seen, but you won't realize that.
The delightful and insightful detailing of the court proceedings and game of law. Based on a novel by a Supreme Court judge, it presents itself as a case, less sensationally projected as you would expect, but keeps you intrigued by its progression. You like chess? You like Test Cricket? You like cerebral entertainment? This is the movie for the weekend.

Why Awards Matter

2011-01-07T23:38:00.003+05:30

I am not a fan of the Oscars. But I still give a lot of importance to them. And, in my opinion, it is good to give just the right importance to everything. How to judge that is tricky, but worth a try.

There was a time when Filmfare awards meant a lot. I remember watching them for the first time with my brother and mom. I also remember complaining when Anand Bakhshi won the Best Lyrics Award for ‘Tujhe dekha toh ye jaana sanam’. My 11-year old self believed his ‘Ho gaya hai tujhko toh pyaar sajna’ was more deserving. Seven years later, I suffered my first heartbreak when the music of ‘Devdas’ lost to that of ‘Saathiya’. Filmfare lost its importance for me. But not its significance. I am not a fan of the Oscars. But then I am not a fan of any award given for cinematic excellence. Still, it is impossible for me to ignore them altogether.

An award should never be taken very seriously. The winner of the Best Film need not be the best film of the year. In fact, it need not even be the best among the nominees. The winning film is just the most popular first choice among the jury (with or without the audience vote). But the film that wins does manage to generate a reaction. The Academy nomination of ‘Lagaan’ had resulted in the release of that film in countries oblivious to Hindi cinema. I have friends from the US who have not watched many Indian films, but have watched ‘Lagaan’. This increased penetration of a film into untapped audiences is the greatest advantage of winning an award, especially a popular one. And this means a lot more to a small, off-beat film.

Some unavoidable circumstances had forced me to spend a month with my family at Patna. All work had to be paused. This also explains my silence on this blog for such a long time. This morning my brother and I got the news of ‘Udaan’ winning the Best Film and the Best Director awards, and two more, at Screen Awards. It was the morning we took our train to Mumbai, and this was the best news we could have shared with our parents while leaving. I am on the train at this moment and the news of these awards is truly the biggest inspiration for both of us. For the first time in more than two decades, an unconventional, ‘small’ film, that didn’t do well at the box-office, has been awarded the Best Film award at a popular award function in this country. Being a part of that film is special. But even more special is the hope that it has rekindled in me, that good cinema will eventually find its way to its audience.

Last night a friend of mine was talking with me about the fourteen nominations ‘Udaan’ got at the Screen Awards. The results were not out then. But just those nominations, he said, were enough for his financial banker colleagues to take a notice of this film that they had missed. They now want to grab the DVD. If nominations could do that, hope the wins cause a more widespread awareness for the film, something its limited publicity could not achieve. For films like these, at least, awards do matter a lot.

Cinema 2010: Looking Back at my Cinema Experience of the Year

2011-01-05T13:37:00.003+05:30

One of the best things about 2010 was my exploration of the cinema of Coen Brothers. Except ‘Intolerable Cruelty’ and their latest, ‘True Grit’, I have finished watching all of their films, some more than once. This, and finishing Kieslowski’s ‘Dekalog’ were the best achievements of the year. But there was a lot more.

Watched more than 200 movies in 2010, about 75 from the Greatest Movies list. It included some of the best English-language films like: ‘The Third Man’, ‘Blade Runner’, ‘Walkabout’, ‘Life of Brian’, ‘Network’, ‘The Exorcist’, ‘All About Eve’, ‘GoodFellas’, ‘Midnight Cowboy’, ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’, ‘Deliverance’, ‘Sex, Lies, and Videotape’, ‘Rumble Fish’, ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, ‘Traffic’, ‘Lolita’, and ‘The King of Comedy’. I was also fascinated by the two films of Wes Anderson that I saw: ‘Rushmore’ and ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’.

Also experienced some classics of World Cinema for the first time: ‘M’, ‘Battleship Potemkin’, ‘The Rules of the Game’, ‘The Cabinet of Dr Caliguri’, ‘Nosferatu’, ‘Shoeshine’, ‘The Man with the Movie Camera’, ‘Knife in the Water’, The Orphic Trilogy, ‘Rififi’, and ‘Raise the Red Lantern’.

But the most fulfilling experience was discovering greats like Luis Bunuel, Robert Bresson, Kenji Mizoguchi, and Abbas Kiarostami. I was also introduced to the cinema of Sam Peckinpah, Nagisa Oshima, Takeshi Kitano and Lars Von Trier.

Discovery of Shakti Samanta was the highlight of my Hindi cinema experience. And I also watched some of the best Hindi films for the first time, like Jewel Thief, Waqt, Shakti, and the hugely underrated ‘Disha’.

And to add to this, continued watching more of Fellini, Bergman, Hitchcock, Antonioni, Tarkovsky, Godard, Truffaut, and Ray.

The Film Book of the Year was Nicholas Proferes’ ‘Film Directing Fundamentals’. Earlier, I was pretty confused when every other person praised a film’s ‘amazing direction’. Thanks to this book, I have begun to understand what the job of a director is. The last section of the book discussed three films in detail: ‘Notorious’, ‘8 ½’, and ‘The Truman Show’. It was such a rewarding experience that I want to continue the exercise by studying more films and writing about them in detail. Starting with the one-hour films from the ‘Dekalog’ would be great. Only wish a day had more than 24 hours…

Once Upon a Time in India

2010-12-04T18:09:00.001+05:30

This is a true story.

In the year 2001, a seventeen-year old boy discovered cinema. He started understanding the difference between the crap that had dominated the popular cinema of his consciousness, the cream of the crap that had resulted in some blockbusters, and the rare cinema rooted in aesthetics of the craft. One important lesson was to understand how 'sound' matters in a movie, among many other big and small mantras he picked up from that textbook of a movie. The final and the most essential lesson was how passion, in fact lunacy, was essential for making a truly immortal film.

The movie that taught the young boy this, went on to win the hearts of people all over the globe. Today, it is considered as one of the landmark films of Hindi cinema. This boy, struck by the achievement and short-sighted by faith, had exclaimed among his movie-crazy friends: "In the next ten years, we are going to have at least five Academy nominations, and two wins!" More than nine years have passed. The boy is now 26. He is waiting no more. He has lost all hope. He has lost his faith.

'Satya' was the film that planted in me the seeds of film-making passion. But I started learning the art with 'Lagaan'. The first foreign-language films I watched were 'No Man's Land' and 'Amelie', because they were in competition with 'Lagaan', and thus I discovered world cinema. I used to follow every word that Gowariker said those days, and thus, following his inspiration, I discovered Guru Dutt, V. Shantaram, and Bimal Roy. The film was followed by a documentary on its making, titled 'Chale Chalo: The Lunacy of Film Making'. I went to watch that in a theatre, covering a long distance by bus, alone.

'Lagaan' had the tagline: Once Upon a Time in India. I never knew it meant something like this can only happen once!

To be fair to Ashutosh Gowariker, I do not expect him to re-create something as wonderful as 'Lagaan', or even 'Swades' for that matter. I accepted the flaws of 'Jodha Akbar' and the flaw called 'What's Your Rashi?' with a smile, understanding, as he says, why he made these movies. But this time, I am left disappointed, and angry. You taught me Sir, the importance of correct sound in cinema. Why then, is the sound (including the background score) of this latest film of yours so terribly done? Why have your characters lost themselves to stars, or incompetence of the cast, or your complacence? I remember you had promised this film would be shorter. By your standards, 2 hours 45 minutes is short. But when are you going to realize that each film should be completed within the time that best suits its purpose? I refuse to believe that your passion and your 'lunacy of film-making' remains the same. And that, Sir, is a crime, especially for you than anyone else.

This is a true story. Ashutosh Gowariker is no more among my favourite film-makers. Unfortunately, he has managed to instill an insecurity and fear in me. I am no more worried about my success in this industry. I am afraid of being destroyed post that success, by my own complacency and errors of judgment, and by the loss of the purity and passion I earned through cinema.

Heart of Gold

2010-11-26T18:34:00.003+05:30

Last evening, we were lucky to be at Metro Cinema. The occasion was the golden jubilee celebration of 'Sujata'(1960), one of the best films by Bimal Roy. It was a pretty warm and informal affair, and the focus was on the movie itself, something that is lost in the pomp of a 'loud celebration.' I had watched the film a few years ago, but to experience it on the big screen was a beautiful experience. I just feel lucky!

The most remarkable thing that I felt in the film, apart from the deeply moving story and great performances, was the display of cinema aesthetics at their best - the pure experience of the romance called film. Also, it would be apt to mention a sequence almost mid-way into the film when the story pauses, for a considerable time. It is night, and the characters are just there, sitting together, and then talking over phone. This sequence also involves more than one song, including the soulful 'Jalte Hain Jiske Liye'. Wished it to go on and on...

After the experience, my brother wants to make a film with Nutan! Sadly, that can not happen - we came into the world a bit too late. He also wants to make a B&W film. That can happen, with a gutsy producer backing us. But one thing that we can actually learn from these films is to work honestly, and to remember that we are not bigger than the films that we make. Good or bad, it is the film that stays long after the maker is no more. The romance shows if the maker experienced it himself. And those films live forever, beyond jubilees and celebrations...

Defining Its Maker

2010-11-20T15:54:00.003+05:30

Friday morning, a friend sends me a text: “Dude, are you going for ‘Guzaarish’. Do tell me whether I should watch it or not.” Half an hour later I was in the theatre. It was fifteen minutes past the scheduled time, and we were still waiting for the projectionist to start the film. Someone joked: “The print hasn’t reached yet. Bhansali is still working on the film.”

This is the problem with being Sanjay Leela Bhansali. The world knows about your painstaking ways of making a film, your obsession with attaining your ‘vision’, a virtue that is not common among Hindi filmmakers. The world knows you work hard, and many things that you do are really good. But you are still joked at. In fact, one thing that the world surely doesn’t know is what to expect from you. ‘Guzaarish’, in my opinion, is an answer to that.

I have always felt that ‘Saawariya’ was not as bad as it appeared, and the harsh reaction it generated. And was hoping, the director would make sure his next offering is decent. Now, that next film is out and the three reviews I have read are extremely favourable, lauding it as one of the best films in recent times. One regular reviewer of a popular daily has been replaced by some other ‘critic’, with the promise that the original reviewer will be ‘back next week’. It seems the media is trying to compensate for the harsh reactions three years ago.

Why, for instance, none of these reviewers have objected to the garish make-up and the distractingly generous cleavage-revealing look of the leading lady, who plays a nurse? Why, haven’t they written about the inconsistent writing, that goes awkwardly out-of-control with the first scene of the second half? Why, for god’s sake, have they ignored the fact that there is more than just ‘inspiration’ taken out of the Javier Bardem starrer ‘The Sea Inside’? One critic, after admitting that the film is also inspired from ‘Whose Life is it Anyway?’ and ‘Prestige’, goes to the extent of saying: “Just because you trace the source of the inspiration does it anyway demean SLB’s ‘Guzaarish’? It most certainly does not. The film is a masterpiece…”

A masterpiece! I confess it left me teary-eyed in a scene or two. Hrithik Roshan did look sincere, if not impeccable. The wants of most characters were well in place. And the film appeared to be making an earnest effort to inspire us with love and life. But a masterpiece?

Perhaps the critic is not wrong. My pillow-side pocket dictionary defines ‘masterpiece’ as ‘someone’s best work.’ The critic might be right because perhaps this is the best Bhansali can deliver. He is definitely not as bad as ‘Saawariya’ and he will perhaps never make a film better than ‘Guzaarish.’ It is not a terrible film. And SLB is not a terrible filmmaker. He is just an artist past his prime, caught within his own world of diminishing objectivity and ‘inspiration’. Correct me if I’m wrong, but ‘Guzaarish’ seems to be the precise definition of its filmmaker.

As for my reply to my friend, and my advice to you, here it is: “Nothing great. But you should watch it.”

P.S. Just before the film, watched the theatrical trailer of ‘No One Killed Jessica’. It left me stunned. Waiting eagerly for you, Mr. Gupta.

My First Quarter!

2010-11-16T12:22:00.003+05:30

‘The Man with a Movie Camera’ is the 200th movie I have watched this year (not counting the not-so-good ones). So, I’m happy.

But I’m particularly excited because it is the 250th movie I have completed from the 1000 Greatest Movies list I so obsessively follow. (You can find the list by clicking to the link provided at the right-hand column under the title “Top Movie Lists: Check Your Score”.

Here are the last ten movies that helped me reach the landmark:

‘The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums’ (1939, Ranked #254)
‘The Exorcist’ (1973, Ranked #185)
‘A Taste of Cherry’ (1997, Ranked #643)
‘Shoeshine’ (1946, Ranked #744)
‘MASH’ (1970, Ranked #573)
‘The Royal Tenenbaums’ (2001, Ranked #704)
‘All About Eve’ (1950, Ranked #70)
‘Back to the Future’ (1985, Ranked #361)
‘Rocky’ (1976, Ranked #459)
‘The Man with a Movie Camera’ (1929, Ranked #101)

What a movie to finish the quarter!

Time to celebrate! And to ‘eye’ the 300 figure mark!

The Return of the Musician

2010-11-14T23:49:00.006+05:30

Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s music is very much like his movies. Love it or hate it, but you can not deny that it is born out of arrogant conviction, that might be indulgent, but is intricate, imaginative, and interesting. His obsession with pure and classical art is apparent in the music he creates. It thus does not have an essentially popular appeal. But like his films, he doesn’t seem to be caring more about the audience than about his own creative energy, which is overtly saturated with melodramatic emotions. I consider him a flawed artist, but he is an artist anyway. That does not necessarily make him a good storyteller. But yes, that makes him a good musician. And that is the reason behind the difference between his music, that always works, and his movies.

I am not very fond of the music of his first film, but his collaborations with Ismail Durbar and Monty, ‘Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam’, ‘Devdas’, and ‘Saawariya’, apart from the only song from ‘Black’, have been phenomenal. During the past decade he has been the only filmmaker with such a consistent record of high-quality playback music. Personally, his music gives me the fulfillment that I expect from none. In fact, I wait for his music more eagerly than his movies.

I have to accept that the music of ‘Guzaarish’ does not match the standards of the three preceding movies. Just one ‘Daras Bina Nahi Chain’ from ‘Saawariya’ was better than all the ten tracks of this. Also, a major disappointment is the poetry, which has been deteriorating consistently with every movie of his. Bhansali is more interested in putting together ideas and words, rather than working within the conventions of lyric-writing. In fact, I joke that the lyrics have also been written by Bhansali himself. Interestingly, and perhaps suitably, the CD cover does not credit anyone for ‘lyrics’. It says: ‘Words by Turaz and Vibhu Puri.’ The lyrics are not bad, but very typical, at times outrageously so. It goes with our idea of Bhansali. But imagine what a wonder someone like Prasoon Joshi would have created on these tunes?

Ultimately, the best thing about Bhansali’s music is that it allows you a discussion on it, a long, never-ending discussion. You just need to find someone who understands the basics of music, and more importantly, loves these songs. My brother and I have been doing this for more than a decade now. During the first few hearings, all our energies are directed to ‘understand the structure’ of these free-flowing, apparently ‘formless’ songs. It is always a challenge to correctly hum the lines, in sur. The challenge that these songs provide you as a singer is the single most fascinating aspect of this music. I would love to sit with someone who could just correctly hum these lines: “Bas itni si tumse guzaarish hai… Ye jo baarish hai, us mein teri baahon mein mar jaaoon… Bas itni si, chhoti-si, ek khwahish hai…”

In this era of instant chartbuster music, here is one musician whose music, in spite of being an integral part of the films, is independent of them. ‘Saawariya’, the movie, came and failed, but its music still gives us the high that we have stopped expecting from Hindi film music. I am not expecting much from the movie releasing this Friday, being more than happy with the magic its music has created. Bravo, maestro! En core!