Why another (Finnish) white girl watches Bollywood...

Katrina Kaif - whitest girl in Bollywood?

This post is basically a response and thoughts inspired by this brilliant post by Filmi Girl titled "Why a white girl watched Bollywood movies". Instead of simply answering the question by listing things she likes about Hindi cinema, FG takes it deeper and further and I love that - basically picking apart our status as foreign viewers to a cinema that draws from a cultural background we don't belong to, while also acknowledging Bollywood's current status of worldwide popularity.

Exoticism

Like Filmi Girl, I have to admit to early exoticism. When I first 'discovered' Hindi films (like Columbus 'discovered' the Americas - generally I am not this careful with implications of language but in this post, the topic requires it), they were many things to me but mostly they were "something different". They were colours and romance and melodrama, and told stories of a culture I'd never really looked into that deeply. But I like to think I got over that.

There are problems with exoticism, especially in the way it ties to Orientalism. I'm not too familiar with Orientalism but what I do know if it is that it's a Western-constructed view of the "Orient" as a place of mystique and spirituality as opposed to the "Western" rationality and secularity, of course setting aside the rational, scientific and non-spiritual pasts and realities of cultures that the West regards as the Orient (I believe Amartya Sen wrote about this in The Argumentative Indian). You see this kind of thing among some Western Bollywood fans, and I always want to believe it's a passing phase; this idea that Indian people are so much more spiritual and their exotic amazing religion(s) are so much better than our own drab sects of Christianity. I won't deny the importance of religion to an Indian Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian or Jain - but it's not like people from the so-called "West" don't carry crosses, say "oh god!" or say prayers at church. So how come doing a puja, wearing a turban or saying "inshallah" make people more spiritual?

I also really dislike elevating Indian culture to a weird, high status and alongside such beliefs, making a personal hierarchy of cultures in your head, usually placing your own at the bottom, disregarded as "boring". There's nothing wrong with respecting and being fascinated by another culture - many people make careers out of engaging in different cultures, translating cultural symbols or living and working in a culture that's not their own - but to see it as better than anything? It doesn't feel right. Your culture is what in part made you who you are. Your surroundings, your first language, your religion (or lack thereof), all of these things matter. I just feel sad for people who want to be Japanese because they enjoy Japanese culture, or desire to be South Asian because they love Bollywood. Nobody needs to feel proud of their own country in nationalistic fervor or think their culture is perfect, but at least recognize what made you who you are, instead of abandoning it in order to become a 'wannabe' of another culture.

Othering and Objectifying

Tough topic. I used to worry a lot, back when I was really Bollywood-crazed, whether I was fetishizing Indian people. Nowadays, the worry seems a little silly to me. I think a part of fetishizing a portion of people, like a certain race or ethnicity, is to not see the individuals in that group as individuals. To a guy who fetishizes (East-)Asian girls, every Asian girl is just that .. Asian. His ideas about what she might be like are not fueled by desire to get to know her personality or thoughts, but simple, often racist stereotypes about Asian women. I don't recognize this line of thinking in myself. In my experience, I am attracted to some people, and not to others. The only difference from pre-Bollywood me and current-me and our tastes in men is exposure - I couldn't name 3 hottest Indian guys in 2003 because I quite frankly hadn't been exposed to many ..or any for that matter.

I could write an essay on the increasing level of objectification of both males and females in pop culture all over the globe but I don't have the brainpower or the time right now. Let's just say I'm not fully embracing it, but sometimes I just sit back and go, "Yes, X looked great in this movie. And I loved it for that."

Cultural appropriation

I think my approach to this is a little different from Filmi Girl's, simply because she's from a culture whose symbols and language has become a global phenomenon. I on the other hand, am from a small country with a culture that's not too well-known internationally. You know, you go to any semi-industrialized country and ask them if they know where Coca-Cola is from, they'll probably know. You do the same for even the most global Finnish brand names and they might blink and then say "Japan?". So I understand culture as a sort of personal commodity, something one feels protective over. You don't want people to misunderstand or misrepresent your culture, steal something you feel is a part of it and claim it as as their own. You don't want people to watch a movie you've loved since childhood and go "This is weird!" or mock it.

(By the way, I'm not saying Americans can't feel this over their own culture, but in some ways, the way their popular culture is marketed worldwide and their movies watched, it's a very different business.)

I think the key word is respect. I don't include a disclaimer to each of my posts about how I claim ignorance on knowing Indian culture and how it is completely possible that being a member of the culture would radically change both my view and my understanding of a movie - but that's a part of why I usually emphasize how personal my views are on any topic. Even if I use terms like "worst movie ever", the subtext is "worst movie that I've seen so far, in my personal opinion" - I'm not stating a fact there. I never want to claim expertise over somebody else's culture because I'd never want anybody who isn't Finnish (or hasn't lived in Finland for a really long time, and gotten to know the land and its language and people) to claim expertise over my culture.

Filmi Girl has a good point that Bollywood has hardly been a purely regional cinema, which is a fair point. On the other hand, it has to be noted how large a part these films play in Indian people's own identity sometimes, whether they live in India or are NRI, even whether they watch the films or are just living in the culture that watches those films. I recall reading a story of somebody who grew up in 1970's Bombay, and remembers quoting Sholay with his friends .. without having actually ever seen the movie. You can take Bollywood out of India, but you can't take India out of Bollywood.

I'm lucky enough not to have gotten hatemail from people who feel like I'm enroaching on their cultural turf in some way. More often people of South Asian descent are just curious; how did you get into Indian movies, do you know so-and-so actor/film? Or then they're weirded out ("But those films are crap!") or happy, or nonchalant.

So why does a white girl watch Bollywood? Hopefully not because it's exotic and Other, not because she wants to become Hindu or Indian, or learned "Namaste" from a yoga class but because it's interesting, and it's what she likes. And as she consumes this now increasingly global form of entertainment, she remains respectful of the culture it stemmed from, willing to admit ignorant mistakes she might make, and most importantly, interested to learn more.

And hopefully she will stop writing posts where she refers to herself in the third person, because voi hyvä Jumala ("oh good God!" in Finnish), that's just a show of bad writing acumen.

PS. University swallowed up my life. Post on Kanthasamy ...later!

Squee-filled first reactions on Kanthasamy.

squee
1. as noun: A noise primarily made by an over-excited fangirl, however it has spread rapidly and is now widely spread among the web community. ("Squee, I love Harry Potter!")
2. as a verb: To elicit aforementioned noises and to generally fangirl something. ("I need somebody to squee over this new trailer with.")

It's winter in Finland right now, which means picturesque views and brightness all over, but sadly it also means cold, dark mornings and slippery roads you have to careful to walk on. I had an exam today and walked home via the post office, picking up this order from Ayngaran, feeling kind of annoyed with winter already. I decided I'd watch Kanthasamy (or Kandasamy or Kanthasaamy or whatever spelling you prefer) for a post-exam pick me up, but I wasn't exactly confident whether it'd do the trick. In my heart of hearts I knew I was kind of hoping for an Anniyan 2, masalatastic big budget Vikram-starrer that would be insane, socially conscious, masalatastic with awesome music and all the works. But I was worried - it's not like anything really compares to Anniyan, which I've previously heralded as the most entertaining film ever and my friends liked it as well.

So I was purposefully lowering my expectations to meet the cold, icy ground below me. And to my great surprise, Kanthasamy actually delivers, more than I expected but also more than I could've thought to ask.

But because my brain is too fried right now from sheer love for the film, and because I don't have the time to screencap this monstrously long film (3 hours 17 minutes, yikes!), I'll just do bullet-points which I will attempt to keep as spoiler-free as possible.

1. Vikram looks amazing in this film. How blue are his eyes? Were those contacts? Am I bad fan for not knowing? Who the hell cares?

2. Shriya did great, playing a heroine that's not the typical coy, conservative Tamil heroine and gets quite a lot of time on screen, looks as gorgeous as ever, and I loved the way they kept the chemistry and dynamic between hers and Vikram's character interesting throughout the movie. It's very sexually charged, but doesn't feel sleazy because she's the sexually assertive character here -- rare fare in an Indian film! I enjoyed it a ton.

3. The songs. Oh lord. Excuse Me Mr Kanthasamy is my new favourite Tamil picturization, Vikram picturization etc etc etc. Amazingly shot, so much fun, awesomely catchy. Lovelovelove!

4. Actually the whole picture is beautifully shot but sometimes I did suspect the cinematographer being on drugs of some sort. The sheer editing pace is kind of nuts. Sometimes I love it, other times I just want the damn camera to settle down! And the filters and the effects. Well, whatever. It's a gorgeous movie, we'll leave it at that.

5. The plot. Er. Talk about complex. I mean, I understood everything but sometimes I stopped to enjoy Vi-- the scenery and was a tad confused. The forthcoming rewatches will tie the puzzle together, though, I assume. Let's just say there are a lot of players and how they all tie together is not as plain as you might think. The socially conscious message is as heavy-handed as you'd expect and as crowd-educating, too, but I liked it. Don't know much about the issue, so can't pick it apart from an economical/political standpoint, but, you know, it's there.

6. I liked how the climax was not at all what I expected. Liked it a ton, in fact.

7. The get-ups. Oh god. I died from laughter. And generally really really really liked the feathered rooster-like avatar I saw from the posters and initially thought I'd hate. Vikram is a genius when he acts like a bird. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence.

8. There's a couple of really epic fight scenes but generally the movie never descends into an adrenaline-packed gorefest. The plot is actually awesomely structured, because it keeps you on your seat - if not on the edge of it, then at least wanting to know what happens next. For a movie whose type most of us are familiar with, it manages to be predictable and yet have some moments of suspense. I have to give props, Susi Ganesan has done a tremendous job here.

9. I loved Vikram's performance so much I almost want to quote a non-me source for praise because while I am ridiculously biased, what for example Qalandari says about him in Kanthasamy, is just so spot on. If you don't mind spoilers, go read that review because his reviews are always suberbly written. But yes. I guess the fact I liked the bird costume tells you everything you need to know; a large part of why this film works is because Vikram's in it. He makes you buy into it, even when it gets goofy.

9.5. Did I mention how hot he is in this movie?

10. It's impossible not to compare this movie to Anniyan, so I'll get it out of the way. First, I love and adore both. Second, Anniyan is funnier. It's infused with Vivek's amazing comedy, whereas Kanthasamy only has Vadivelu's amusing but unbrilliant comedy track. Anniyan is also goofier, more extravagant, more unintentionally funny. Kanthasamy has those laughs as well, but it doesn't have Remo, and it is just a pinch less ridiculous. It has its own comedy, especially with the romantic track, and the comedy there is spicy - not exactly clever, but certainly funny enough for a ton of giggles. And the ending doesn't make one laugh as it does with Anniyan; it solicits a mere peaceful smile, just like it should.

11. Oh I'm sorry, did you think this would be a short post? My first reactions are lengthy, it would seem.

12. The depiction of Mexico (yes, they friggin' go to Mexico! Vikram speaks Spanish!) is kind of half-awesome, half-weird. I'm not sure if Mexico really has that western saloon cowboy hats type of scene, but the film doesn't go for any super-offensive stereotypes and actually shows regular people, regular scenery (and interesting scenery, not just luxurious sights of this and that tourist attraction like Indian films sometimes do), which is kind of lovely. I'm mostly in love with these scenes because of the plot at that point is really awesome.

13. I'm so glad I watched this film on Friday the 13th. Screencaps and proper review later this weekend, I assume, should I have time.

I really don't need any more Indian DVDs..

No really, I don't. I have piles of unwatched/unfinished films laying all around me in this apartment and I really ought to not buy any new ones. I just counted them and came up with 14. Oh god. One of these weekends I need to just sit my butt down and finish all the ones I began and never finished.

But I also bought some new ones this week. This post is pretty much just therapy; the first stage is admitting you have a problem.

I'm Veracious and I definitely have a problem.

And while, in the understanding company of the readership of this blog, this may not seem like a problem, and while I'm certainly lucky enough not to make an absolutely constant habit of buying Indian DVD's (it's sporadic, rather than regularly scheduled), this is still a problem.

Hoarding is a problem. And this week I've done some Southie hoarding. The above picture is from the latest Vikram starrer Kanthasamy which promises to be a standard masala, where every spice thrown into the mix is psychedelic. I'm as afraid as I am excited.

But this is Vikram, can you really blame me? (You probably should.)

And then the news came down the wire that my second favourite Tamil person of the male sort, Siddharth, just had his most recent Telugu flick come out on DVD.

Oy, I hate you. I love you.

I just don't know anymore. But my wallet does, as it hides deeper into my bag.

Sigh. I threw some extra DVD's onto the Tamil order so by the time both orders get here, I'll have 17 unwatched films in my possession. Always good to have something to watch, I suppose, but it is pretty ridiculous. I mean, what if I never run out? What if I go to my death, still having a backlog of 20-something Indian DVD's waiting for me? (Or microchips or whatever we'll be watching movies on by then!)

These are the things I fear.

So.. what are your DVD-buying weakspots? "Miniscule percentage off" offers? Nehaflix's 5 dollar DVD sales? CD sales? Just being on a website and having a credit card? Collector's syndrome ("well, I own all the other Siddhu Telugu movies, might as well also own this one..")? Share, share! Tell me I'm not alone.

With friends like these...

Disclaimer: This is a blog post in which I take a fairly simple movie and pick it apart to see why exactly I didn't like it as much as I wanted to or as others have. I know in doing so, I have to take a comedy film seriously. I don't care that I'm doing so. When a film entertains, it's not necessary to analyze why it does so. When it doesn't, it's not so easy to pinpoint why, and one has to dig in deeper. Everything I express here are my own personal views, and I'm in no way suggesting everybody who enjoyed it watched a different movie. Please don't read it if you don't think you'd enjoy reading such a post. And please, I beg of you, don't post a comment along the lines of "this is just a silly comedy, why are you taking it so seriously?". Oh and it's a rant and there will be SPOILERS.

I rewatched Dostana a few weeks back and have been itching to write about it ever since. I don't particularly enjoy facing uncomfortable truths about movies I really enjoyed on the first watch, but I feel like I have to. Essentially it's what Ajnabi stated in her review, the closer you look, the more problems there are.

Because while the film still has its charms (Abhishek occasionally, fantastic soundtrack/picturizations) and its funny moments, it just rubbed me the wrong way on the rewatch. And that really, really sucks.

At the core, Dostana is the least genuine story of friendship in Bollywood perhaps ever. The screenwriter depicts it as the friendship of the century, but that's simply not the case. It's a story of two douchebags who want to bone a really hot girl, so they get close to her by continuing to build on a lie, and essentially mess up her life to selfishly win her for themselves, making her a prize to be won in a challenge between the two of them. When she finds out, she's understandably upset and eventually they win her back by sacrificing their masculinity by doing something that's maybe a bit gay. She accepts them as 'friends' again. End of movie.

None of this is what friendship is about. Friendship is about honesty - being able to express your thoughts and feelings openly to somebody. Friendship is about trust - trust that somebody is there for you when you need them, trust that they won't tell everybody what you told them behind your back. The movie seems to think it'll convince the audience that if you just say it's friendship enough, people will believe it really is friendship. I know Bollywood isn't a big fan of "show, not tell"-methods of storytelling, but in this particular case, that's not how things work. If I can't believe in something, it really doesn't matter how explicitly it's stated on-screen.

Another problem I have with Dostana is that for a "naughty" comedy, it mostly ends up feeling sleazy. It's not explicitly sleazy, it's not one of the B-films or C-films with graituitous french-kissing, lots of skin and verging on softcore (not that I've seen those films but I've run into clips of them on youtube). But it's sleazy enough to feel sleazy, to make one feel uncomfortable. One of my friends watched the movie with me during this rewatch, and she had this take on it, "It's like how Indians see Western people." As in, skimpily clad, sexually promiscuous, laying the innuendo on thick. I'm not sure if I agree with her interpretation, but it's one way to look at it, I guess. And look, I'm far from being a prude of some sort. I'm all for innuendo and sexuality explored in Indian films of all types. But style is important - make it funny and don't make it gross. I can think of some examples of this from American sitcoms but for an Indian example, Pyaar Ke Side Effects comes to mind.

I suppose I could write more about the manipulation on the second half but I think everybody's in agreement that was the movie's true lowest point. And I won't touch on gay stereotypes since as discussed recently on Filmi Girl's blog regarding Bollywood blackface and other examples, popular cinema thrives on stereotypes, some more offensive than others. Needless to say, both things bugged me, on top of the "friendship" and the sleaze.

Some of you will obviously be in strong disagreement, and that's fine. I'm not sure if I can argue my points more elaborately since I've sort of run out of steam while writing this rant, but if you have something to say besides "stop taking it so seriously!", by all means, say it.

Darna mana hai? Darna mushkil hai, yaar..

(With my barely existing Hindi skills the title of this post is supposed to say "Fear is forbidden? To fear is difficult, man..")

Last night was another NIF movie night. For those of you unaware, NIF is a term originating from the Bollywhat? forums, where it was decided that N(on-)I(ndian)F(ilm person) would refer to those who primarily consume non-Indian entertainment and aren't familiar or (yet) keen on Indian films in general. I have two friends who are still NIFs essentially but we've formed a habit of meeting up with me coming to their apartment, a handful of Indian movies in hand. Altogether we've matched tens of Indian films from my collection, and while some haven't been successes, I'm clearly doing something right; one of my friends bought Rang De Basanti for herself earlier this year.

There's also another, less clearly defined group of NIFs I'm semi-regularly showing Hindi films to; some friends from university. Attendance was high on the first meeting when we watched Lage Raho Munnabhai, but low on second meeting when only three guys made it. To cater to stereotypical "guy tastes", I didn't shove Hum Tum into my DVD player, but we instead watched Sholay, which was a tad too long for their attention span, but they liked it. So much can be said for that classic - it might be alien to those unfamiliar with Indian cinema, but dammit, it simply works!

But now I throw this to you? Since I do a lot of rewatching with my NIF buddies, even during the dry periods when I tend to not watch much new stuff myself, I tend to want to write about them, as I have in the past, but are they interesting for you all to read about? My blog is essentially for my own views, and it can be weird to read those of total strangers, but naturally during these rewatch posts I'll also shed light on how the rewatch changed my view on the film, or if it did at all.


So since it was so close to Halloween - though we Finns don't celebrate - I picked the only horror-esque/scary-ish Bollywood film I had in my collection (unless scary means really, really bad, in which case I have more than this one) and through the luck of a random draw, this became the film of the evening.

I suppose it deserves a mention as I discuss the RGV-produced Darna Mana Hai (Fear is forbidden, 2003), which I saw around three years back during my biggest "I must see everything Saif Ali Khan was in!"-phase, I bought it simply because Saif looked hot on the cover. To be specific, Ek Hasina Thi-esque. Yes, that hot. For that reason, I only really have screencaps of his and Boman's bit of the story.

I warned my friends, "This is not a scary movie. This is a freaky, hilarious movie." DMH has six separate ghost stories wrapped in a framework of a stereotypical slasher plot of a story; seven friends get stranded on a road in the middle of nowhere after their car breaks down. They make a bonfire and start sharing ghost stories to each other. Naturally a killer creeps in the forest around them.

The first story, starring Sohail Khan and Antara Mali, is actually a tiny bit creepy. The direction varies from story to story, sometimes rather radically. Salim-Sulaiman's music composition for the movie is appropriately freaky, but a little too much so - it just seems like they went a bit too crazy with it. Since the movie really isn't scary at all, creating jump scares with weird sound effects just comes off as goofy.

But while the first story might actually have some hope as to this being a scary movie, the second story shatters all such illusion. The story of Anil, a photographer spending a night in a remote hotel run by a peculiar character (Boman Irani), starts out with some tension but ends up just being hilarious in its exaggerated nature. Both actors do a fine job, don't get me wrong - I quite love them in this - but the story itself is just quite something else. You have to see it to believe it.

But here's a hint for you.

Around this story my friends began realizing this really was a movie to be enjoyed in a less serious manner. The story of Raghuvir Yadav as a teacher haunted by the fact a little girl does her homework is probably the weakest of all the stories, but the next story, with Shilpa Shetty and co-starring apples, saves the film by being a total riot (somewhat intentionally I would hope!).

Vivek Oberoi and Nana Patekar's story about a midnight hitchhiker probably delivers the best twist out of all the stories, and the last one starring Aftab Shivdasani getting weird powers from a god began to test our collective patience with the movie. The worst part? It wasn't over yet! Still tens of minutes to watch Sameera Reddy try to escape the hands of a demented killer in the middle of the forest. At least the other crappy actors they got to the framework story were out of the picture at that point (not really a spoiler, you figure so much out from the get go).

The film ends on another twist, naturally, and then we get credits along with some more badly mixed dance music. These factors made one of my friends announce, "This is probably the worst film I've ever seen. And that includes Twilight." I replied, "Oh come on, you can't possibly mean that!". She immediately backtracked, "Okay, maybe not. But out of the ones we've seen so far.."

It's true, Darna Mana Hai is quite possibly the most mediocre out of the films I've provided them with so far. But it has its charm, for the mini-stories, the goofy twists, the scary apples! And if the tag line of the film is, "jo darr gaya, woh mar gaya" (he who fears, dies) then shouldn't we just be glad there's no way in hell we're going to be scared during this film?

So that's my non-pick for the Halloween. Happy Halloween to all those who celebrate. Those who don't, enjoy the weekend!

Hema is pretty, Dharmendra is young and I am discontent: Tum Haseen Main Jawaan.

I know, this isn't fair. This shouldn't be possible to begin with. A cracky, goofy, comedic masala with Dharmendra, Hema and Pran and I don't like it?

What went wrong with me and Tum Haseen Main Jawaan? If only I knew! I suppose it's a mood thing. I watched this film in two bits and during both times I just wasn't feeling it. I wanted to see a fun Hema/Dharam masala but this wasn't hitting the right buttons, the ones their films such as Jugnu, Seeta Aur Geeta, hell even the not-that-amazing films like Patthar Aur Payal and Shafarat had done. The comedy felt like really tired slapstick, the chemistry between Dharam and Hema was merely okay, the songs worked but didn't excite.. Sigh.

The story is centered around a baby, who his villanous uncle (Pran) wants to kill in order to receive the inheritance of the baby's father. The baby's mother is forced to separate from her child, and her sister Anuradha (Hema Malini) takes the baby instead. Through a confused misplacement of the baby (because let's face it, babies get lost all the time!), the baby ends up on the boat of sailor Sunil (Dharmendra). Cue some incredibly long comedic hijinks that finally end when the boat arrives to shore and Sunil begins to take care of the baby. Anuradha finds him and becomes a nanny for the baby, without telling Sunil about her connection to the child.

This film really ought to be more entertaining than it ends up being. It takes an hour for our leads to meet, and none of the build up is worth it. Everything is so goofball it essentially becomes grating. And I like goofball comedy! So annoying.

Pran! Helen! All the classic ingredients are there!

Either this movie really was lame or then I need to go see a doctor.

Oh and speaking of lame comedy, there's a lot of scenes where Sunil's friend crossdresses. In true Some Like It Hot fashion, he meets a girl and then dresses up as a rich sailor (only the joke is, he's really a sailor!) and meets her on a beach. Oh and her boss falls in love with his crossdressing form. I liked the Some Like It Hot nod a lot but good god this actor was painfully unfunny. Give me the original any day of the week.

Oh, jodi, what do I do for you..

It's always a puzzle to me why I don't gel with certain movies. Sometimes it's as clear as the day; I don't need to pick apart my viewing experience of Tum Chor Main Sipahi to know that movie is garbage. Other times, it's a very specific problem with an otherwise okay film - Kal Ho Naa Ho I would like a lot if it wasn't for certain actions and motivations of the characters. And then there are films like this, which I might've liked, had I been on a different mood, had I watched it at a different time in my filmi-watching career.

Onwards and upwards.

Cheating on the viewer; heroine switches in Pournami & Indra.

The last time I discussed the Chiranjeevi starrer Indra, I focused on what made it a quintessential Southie (in this case meaning Telugu/Tamil) mainstream masala flick. Pious, god-like heroes, colourful picturizations, handful of villains and a buckets of social justice - to name some of the ingredients. What I didn't talk about extensively is what annoyed me about the movie, as much as I liked it.

But now I will, because I happened to run into the same phenomenon in another Telugu movie I saw.

You see, Indra's first half features plenty of comedy hijinks that come from Sonali Bendre's character pursuing Chiranjeevi's. It's funny, it's cute, it makes you actually buy into Chiranjeevi as a romantic hero and all is fine in the universe.

But come second half and we find out that the other heroine, played by Arthi Agarwal, as evil as she might look, is not necessarily so. In fact, she is indeed a heroine -- the 2nd heroine! Who also loves Chiranjeevi!

For those of us coming off a steady diet of Bollywood films, where it's usually clear from the get go who's going to end up with who, or at least there's certainty that love triangles are solved for the best, Indra throws a total curveball. You've got two heroines, fighting over one hero and the hero isn't really showing any signs of romantic interest towards either.

When you watch the film, it's not like you're surprised; social justice, saving the world one village at a time, slaying one corrupt politician at a time, these things are what's important to our hero. Not the ladies he romances (or doesn't romance, as can it really be called that when his heart isn't really in it?). Look, I'm not saying he has to get with either heroine but surely he can love one woman as much as he loves social justice? No?

No?

Fine, Chiru, you're the Megastar, not me, and it is your film. So I'll move on to ...

Pournami, a Prabhu Deva direction that talks about love, dance, revenge, tradition and ..well, mostly just dance to be honest. Starring Prabhas, who is a new acquintance to me but who I definitely like as Shivakesama, who enters a little town to open a dance school. Co-starring is Charmme, who I also really enjoy watching, as the girl who is not very fond of him, but who falls in love with him despite herself (no surprises there).

Of course, now that I search for images of the film, all of them feature Trisha -- playing a character who only really features on the second half of the film. I went in blissfully unaware that the film's pairing was being promoted as Prabhas and Trisha, not Prabhas and Charmme.

I have smart readers, so you know where I'm going with this. I start watching the movie, slowly beginning the root for Charmme and Prabhas' characters to end up together and then the movie pulls the rug from beneath me. Then it's all Trisha, all the time, and to make matters worse, she's wooden and her character is more bland than a brown paper bag spiced with oatmeal. And of course it is shown that Prabhas' character in fact prefers her over the wonderfully lively Charmme. At least Chiru in Indra was nonchalant towards both!

You could ask, "But who the heck cares? The main story's about something else anyway!" and you'd have a point. But I care, because if we want to believe films are about stories, then those stories are about characters. And I have to be able to sink my teeth into those characters, feel as they feel, journey as they journey. When something like the heroine switch happens, it feels emotionally dishonest. You build up to something, and then you reveal the initial heroine was just a chess piece, or both the heroines are chess pieces for the plot and there's nothing to them, and that just gets on my nerves. A lot.

But I really do hate to rag on this movie because right up to Trisha's appearance, it was nailing everything for me. The songs, the dancing, Charmme's acting, Prabhas' acting, the comedy, the action.. Everything had me on board and I really enjoyed watching. Now, the movie doesn't completely lose momentum, and the finale is actually pretty incredible to watch, but these sort of major irks always make me question my liking of a movie.

But as I said before, this is one type of masala hero; the kind who doesn't have even one ounce of selfishness in him, so naturally he doesn't even have the mindframe to think selfishly when it comes to love.

And maybe it's just my individualist, Western viewpoint, because I really do understand where these sorts of heroes come from and I can enjoy them a lot on-screen despite the fact that the movies sometimes feature these things that annoy me. I understand why Indian audiences would welcome heroes who put the interests of the communities they live in ahead of their own personal desires, as well as love stories where mutual respect and admiration is more valuable than actual romantic love.

All the same, I can't help but (wistfully) think about some of the movies where the hero is oh-so-good, kicks unholy amounts of butt and really really likes the heroine. Like my favourite Tamil film Dhool (discussed here), where you have two heroines but you also know exactly who the hero likes better from the get-go.

I am not a bitter person, though, and will definitely watching more of both Chiranjeevi and Prabhas. Hit me with your recommendations - I know for Prabhas I was recommended a film called Chatrapathi, probably my next Telugu watch.

Shola-- no wait. Mera Gaon Mera Desh.

So remember this movie, with this really great scene where Dharmendra plays a former criminal who teaches a village belle how to shoot in a forest setting?

And that movie had this pretty despicable villain played by a really good actor, called Mabbar Singh or Dabbar Singh or something to that effect? And a coin that played a key part in the decision making of the hero? And a fight towards the end that is a tables-turned version of a fight we saw earlier? And the scene where the villain has a gun and angrily questions his henchmen?

And of course the usual, cutesy harrasment of heroine for comedic scenes. And how can you not love the bit where the gypsie girl dances in front of the villain?

But if you know your 70's Hindi cinema, you know where I'm going with this. In fact, while it might appear to the modern viewer, working their way through the rich history of Bombay's cinema, that Mera Gaon Mera Desh has far too many similarities with the classic Sholay, release dates reveal that it was in fact Sholay that took influence from Mera Gaon. It's quite a funny thing, to watch this movie after Sholay and realize that the more popular and yes, the better film out of the two, is not just the one influencing others, but also has those clear influences of its own.

Vinod Khanna is indeed called Jabbar Singh, a dacoit-thakur who doesn't hesitate to put bullets into those who oppose him. Dharmendra on the other hand plays Ajit, a reformed criminal who moves into a village to work for a man who believes in giving people second chances. And Asha Parekh plays Anju, the village girl he falls in love with.

The movie handsomely begins with the following quote:

Yeah, Gandhi can be badass, too. Who says you can't learn from cinema?

It delivers everything you'd expect. Ajit may be an orphan disregarded by society as a lost cause, but the idyllic Rajasthan village and faith placed on him by a few really good people reforms him and makes him the people's hero, gathering the villagers to fight against the evil Jabbar Singh. There's plenty of songs, fights and sentimental speeches.

But mostly the film falls into the "just okay" category for me. I get a huge kick out of Dharmendra in just about anything but Asha Parekh as a heroine lacks that special something. The story certainly doesn't rise up to the level that Sholay does; it just isn't as good and appealling, I didn't find myself getting that emotionally invested in any of the characters. Of course, it does fall short of Sholay in star power as well as budget, probably, so it's not at all a fair comparison. If it stands alone, Mera Gaon is decent masala of its time.

That is, unless you're me and ...

.. absolutely ..

.. friggin' ..

.. adore ..

.. Vinod Khanna in this movie!

By no means is Jabbar as despicable or as legendary as Gabbar Singh. He is in a sense ruthless but he doesn't take the sick pleasure in killing and torturing people as Gabbar seems to. But the first scene he's in, where he tears a mother apart from her child and plainly shoots the child, sets the tone of the character. And while my biased adoration is, I'll admit, mostly superficial, Vinod does play the role with such intensity that it's not hard to see why this was the role that got him noticed.

In a sense, the movie belongs to its side stars -- alongside Vinod, we have Laxmi Chhaya, who steals the show as the gypsie girl Munnibai. She's a double agent of sorts, who eventually decides where her true loyalties lie and is responsible for most of the dance numbers in the film. On my first watch she was such a breath of fresh air after the blahsome Asha I almost wished she'd been the romantic interest in the film. The last song in the film is so memorable, very much due to her performance.

I was feeling very angry at the world today for whatever reason and screencapping and rewatching this movie totally did the trick. Mmm, bloody, evil Vinod. If I'm alone and crazy in this matter, I apologize for affecting you with my mental disorder. Really, I'm so sorry. I'll stop now.

..sorry! Okay, I'm done now. Promise.

.. I need help.

Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana - the one Siddharth film to rule them all.

Today I had the fortune of sitting down with some friends of mine and making them watch Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana, the Telugu super-hit from 2005. My friends have seen tens of Indian films by now, but I don't think any of the films they'd seen so far could have prepared them for what was coming: a wonderfully romantic, funny, visual, glorious masala film. I can't believe I haven't discussed it on this blog yet, so allow me to correct that now.

It's one that even some mostly-exclusively-Hindi-film-watching people have made the effort to seek out and watch, and I'm very glad about that. This film is just such a gem and very accessible to people who like Bollywood. NVNN (or NVNV as it's sometimes abbreviated) takes its influences from Bollywood classics, such as DDLJ or Maine Pyaar Kiya, after all.

So the story is what you can imagine, based on the influences; rich NRI boy Santosh (Siddharth) returns to India for a wedding of a childhood friend, whose best friend is Siri, a girl of good heart but modest wealth (Trisha). He's wild and flirty and gets on her nerves, but of course, they end up falling in love anyway. As beautiful and strong as their love is, it still faces the challenge of convincing her brother (Srihari) that the NRI boy is good enough for his precious younger sister.

Of course, it goes without saying that the above plot description is extremely "bare bones". There is, in fact, a great amount of detail woven into the otherwise stereotypical masala script. The reason why the brother feels discontent towards rich people, for example, is demonstrated in the beginning of the film. That's not to say everything is incredibly original, but something about the script is so thought-through that it works splendidly.

Santosh at the beginning of the film is what some people would call annoying, what I call hilarious and what could be described as "kid on an extreme sugar high". He's hyperactive, playful, loud, and I suppose his shows of physical affection are meant to highlight the fact he's "westernized". Nevertheless, I loved him from the get go. The love story develops believably, there's mischief but also a lot of sweetness, as the two get to know each other.

The film's general tone might be over-the-top with the comedy on the first half, but I adore it, and I continue adoring it when it smooths over and we get the more somber but still entertaining second half. My friends scoffed a little at the idea that a love that blossomed in 15 days may be so strong as to endure the trials placed on it on the second half, but these are the kind of masala premises you have to buy into. If you do, you're rewarded with a great movie.

Ostrich pants - when I knew I would love this film like nothing else.

What helps make the story a great ride is the amazing way the film is shot. To everybody and anybody who is perhaps tired of seeing foreign (as in, non-Indian) locales in your Indian films, you need to watch Southie films! The loving way Venu Gopal (if I'm to believe the back of the DVD box) has shot the countryside of India is worth noting. The songs, the costumes, just pretty much all the visuals, are lovely.

Which brings us to...

The music. Seeing as how this film is directed by a man whose name is synonymous with dance, it's no wonder it feels like the whole movie is in a way choreographed, danced more than it is acted. What struck me about Siddharth as an actor in this movie, and why I became a fan, was the physicality of the role (and I know that sounds like a pretentious thing to say about a masala entertainer but hear me out). He's a great dancer, and that shows, when he plays the physical comedy scenes, the hyperactive energy Santosh has on the first half, but also the more serious determinence we see in the character on the first half. The choreographies in the film are so wonderful, as well, intricate and imaginative.

Rewatching NVNN really makes me want to see Wanted, Prabhu Deva's Hindi directional debut. This man is capable of good things, so much is clear, but I'm really psyched about seeing whether he infuses a more straight-forward action flick with a touch of choreography, as he did with NVNN and its masala format.

And once again let me remind you that Prakash Ra-- I mean, Prakash Dad is in this movie. And while I think his later Dad roles have been more exceptional, this one stands as a damned classic Prakash Dad performance. Everybody needs a dose of Prakash Dad every once in a while.

I know not everybody is going to love this movie but it's definitely a special one, for me personally, but as I understand it, also in the history of Telugu cinema. This film brought life to the industry, giving it new talent, new energy, new gloss. A breath of fresh air. I won't argue whether Tollywood needed that, I'll simply say that I'm happy this film exists. So very happy.

Pastiche of praise; Kaminey.

WARNING: I curse in this review. The title of the film gives me full license to, in my opinion. If you're offended by salty language, just don't read this one.

What do you say about a film as universally appreciated as Kaminey? How to phrase things you've read a million times in such a original, refreshing manner that your voice isn't lost in the sea of reviews?

Yes, I made the awful mistake of reading other people's reviews - tons of them - before writing my own. When you've read stuff penned by professionals and goddamn media scholars, why read whatever I have to say?

The problem isn't that my opinion isn't valuable, no, I would never lack the self-esteem to think that. As a blog writer, a certainty in my own views is absolutely essential. No, the problem only comes in when I realize that Kaminey was loved by me as it was by others, and there's nothing I can really add.

Vishal Bharadwaj is making some of the finest films to grace Indian screens this decade - and the upcoming ones, I'm sure of it. Shahid Kapoor, under his direction, has risen to new heights as an actor, carrying the personalities of two very distinct characters perfectly. Priyanka Chopra gave us a wonderfully complex, multifaceted female character. The newcomer character actors all shine.

The plot takes a while to get going but the storytelling is dense, with amazing eye to detail. While I thought the soundtrack was inferior to that of Omkara it is nevertheless worth mentioning. The black comedy is excellent, unexpectedly funny, and fits in well with the occasionally sternly dramatic thriller plot.

I want to rewatch this, again and again, to catch all the details, all the layers to the storytelling, I want to show this to my friends, those who love Bollywood and those who know nothing about it, because this film is just that damn good.

And because I've read a million reviews of this by now, I can honestly say this: fuck Tarantino. Vishal Bharadwaj is not India's Tarantino. I realize getting called that is by no means an insult, but I feel like in some ways, it is. Tarantino makes films with very little heart or purpose, other than to show he's watches a lot of films and he really, really likes them. Bharadwaj has more of an auteur's touch to his films. He doesn't simply get inspired and spin his inspirations into stories, tying them together with quotable dialogue. His films seem to have more heart than that.

(That's not to say Kaminey isn't, in some ways, a very Tarantino-esque film. Comparisons to the good Guy Ritchie films also make a lot of sense. But in the end, Bharadwaj can't be India's Tarantino, because Sriram Raghavan, bless his soul, is India's Tarantino. End of story.)

This might not be the best review I could've written for this film but you know, it might not be the last. I'll be revisiting this film for sure. Hopefully on this blog, as well.