Bobby Jasoos, a mystery of modest charms.

 

 Ideally, a film about a private detective would marvel with its tightly plotted and well-scripted twists and turns. Bobby Jasoos is more focused on the detective herself, enthusiastic and smart and also a little foolish and inconsiderate, basically a nicely fleshed out female protagonist that not many actresses in Hindi cinema get to play in most of their films, but Vidya Balan seems to, in nearly every film of hers.

Bilkis Ahmed, the titular Bobby, is determined to become a private eye despite opposition from her father and derision from a more experienced detective, who laughs her out his office, time and time again. Unfazed by this, Bobby sets up her own shop, and not long after, a mysterious Aneez Khan (Kiran Kumar) hires her with a big paycheck to track down a girl with very few clues to identify her by.

The central case of the film unfolds at a nice pace, but perhaps more satisfying is just to watch Bobby in action, and all the side characters that help her or deter her. She's a fantastic, career-driven woman over 30, and that's just really refreshing, in many ways. You could argue the film should've aimed higher, delivered a more devastating twist, filled in those plot holes deftly, but I'm content with what it is; a Vidya-flavoured treat that surprises positively in some aspects, and is a bit of a letdown in others.

Bobby's love interest is the newcomer Ali Faizal's Tassavur, a popular TV journalist who is one of Bobby's initial clients, as he hires her to look into the backgrounds of girls his father wants him to marry, so that the match can be derailed and he can continue being a bachelor. From their initial scenes, you can tell Bobby is both annoyed and exhausted by this guy, but their continued chemistry is undeniable, whether they're bickering with one another or becoming partners in crime. Ali Faizal is a real find.

As delightful as the romance was, I didn't find myself in need of the other masala features, such as the many (unmemorable) songs the films has. Equally unimpressive is the bit of broad comedy the film takes a swing at by having Bobby in various disguises; a gimmick that doesn't quite work as well as the genuine situational comedy. It's really hard to criticise, though, that's how much of a treat the film really is. There are a number of other little things I could discuss as mildly disappointing facets, but again, they're so minor, I feel like I'm quibbling, or spoiling things about the film others should probably see for themselves.

So I'd without a doubt recommend it. In a year full of fun, interesting female roles, this is one of the most fun, and if you like the lead, you'll easily enjoy this one.

Rewatch magic: Paa & Mujhse Fraaandship Karoge.

When I first saw Paa, I was sure my extreme emotional reaction to it was a fluke. It wasn't a hyperbole to say I cried my eyes out throughout the movie, by the end letting out dry sobs because I had no tears left. It was so bizarre - this had never happened to me with any movie, and I had watched a fair bit of tear-jerkers in my time. So it had to be something other than the film, causing this reaction - maybe it was just my mood to cry my eyes out, and the movie gave me good impetus to do so without feeling silly for it. 

This is not to say anything against the film. It's a damn good one, and even if I was wary of the "gimmick" of having the son (Abhishek) play the father, and the father (Amitabh Bachchan) play the son, who suffers from progeria. Acting through prosthetic make-up is difficult for anybody, and Amitabh-ji was praised through the roof for this performance, and I wondered whether that was because of the performance, or his star power combined with the braveness of taking such a role.

Thankfully, the movie puts the story and its characters front and center, thus making sure you almost forget about the gimmick entirely. And even if the film is named 'father', the mother is the real highlight here - I feel like Paa was the first role where Vidya Balan was just staggeringly amazing, and I'm pretty sure I cried the hardest whenever her character cried. 

I went into my rewatch thinking that I probably wouldn't be so emotionally prodded by the movie, as I remembered crying at so many lines and so many scenes. This time, I thought, I'd know what was coming - surely that had to make it less emotionally impacting? 

Well, it did not. Not only did I cry my one paper tissue soggy, I was also so mesmerized by the film I couldn't just hit pause and go get another one. When the climactic scene arrives, even though I knew what was coming, even though I had seen it coming miles away, I was just completely broken. If my tear ducts had any moisture left, it was all let out by the end of the film. Again.

So I keep wondering. What is it about this story that just gets to me? I don't feel like there's anything particularly personal about the story for me, so it's not like it reflects my own life in any way. I suspect some other fans of the film may feel the same way, but considering I'm not really the tear-jerker person, nor does this film get consistently mentioned among the best or most favourite films (hell, even I don't regularly list it as one), I'm kind of puzzled. The performances are all great, the musical cues certainly heighten those performances, and the soundtrack is wonderful, but I still don't know why this movie leaves such an impact on me. The only thing I know is that on my next rewatch, I'll know to prepare more tissues. 

Mujhse Fraaandship Karoge, on the other hand, remains the perfect rainy day romcom to watch. I wonder if Kunal Kohli feels that way, too - since I recently realized, being a little slow I guess, that Fraaandship is basically a modernized version of Mujhse Dosti Karoge. MDK, of course, and this has been admitted by Kohli himself, was kind of a dated movie even when it came out. It was a late 90's film for the early 00's, and though it has some redeeming features (that Antakshari song or the completely filmi and wonderful climax), it's not really one to remember much nowadays.

I wondered about the expiration date of Fraandship as I rewatched. Preity and Vishal fall in love via Facebook by impersonating their friends, and while social networking could be here to stay, youth culture does tend to change rather rapidly - what's cool one minute tends to not be so cool the next. Still, from the marketing perspective (ugh, yes, the kind of phrase I never wanted to type), it makes sense to give the youth films that portray characters who are also young, and hopefully in a way that's realistic but still idealized.

Another thing I picked up on was that the film was directed by a woman, Nupur Ashtana, which is sadly a rare thing world over. Good on Y-Films for finally getting some women directors in the fray as well (will mothership Yash Raj Films follow suit sometime in the future?).

I also thought about the message the film sends. As with any glossy romcoms, there is some focus on superficial traits, but what is notable in Fraaandship is how personality, chemistry and compatibility win out in the end. Preity and Vishal have instant chemistry online, but they continue to bicker with one another face-to-face. There is also no "make-over moment" - when Vishal sees Preity all dolled up for the club, he still doesn't seem all that interested. 

When Rahul and Mallika (the friends whose online identities our hero and heroine adopt) first meet, they don't seem to hit it off that well, even though they are both very attractive people. However, once they get to talking and discover they actually have some things in common, they become more interested in one another.

I know it's not much, but I'll take it as it's so much more likable and relatable than the films with paper-thin characterizations and so much emphasis on fashion and looking cool, hot, whatever. Of course films will always try to sell a very glamorous image, and that includes the superficial focus, but actors shouldn't just be moving clothes racks for the latest designer clothes. So for all its classic mainstream film traits, at least Fraaandship is putting a simple, yet agreeable message out there.

12 awesome random filmi pictures.

Nadira!



Any picture with both Vidya and Rani is a winner in my books.


Sonam looking gorgeous as per usual.



This picture of Dharmendra is just ... A++++




Who doesn't love the apples in Maine Pyar Kiya?



..or the lair in Parvarish?


Or this swishy skirt of Rani's from Bunty aur Babli?



Oldie stars eating away!



Siddharth as a baby!


Vinod Khanna living the life!



Production still from Kagaaz Ke Phool.



Aradhana to cap this post off.

Happy 12/12/12, guys!

The Catfight Myth, and about female friendship in general.

Why hasn't there been a female Dil Chahta Hai? An all-girls' version of Dostana?

For that matter, can you name two actresses who are friends within the Hindi film industry?

These are just some of the questions that popped into my head as result of watching the magnificent duo of Rani Mukherjii and Vidya Balan on an old episode of Koffee with Karan, the appallingly shallow chat show, where Karan Johar does the duplicitous tango by making it out like he's everybody's best friend, and then actively stirring up drama between anybody who will take the bait, and giggling gleefully when they do so. In the episode, both Rani and Vidya show excellent camaraderie while promoting their joint venture, No One Killed Jessica. They giggle, share inside jokes, and then talk about working on the film and being professionally influenced by one another.

Karan politely takes all in this and comes back with an observation that female friendship unravels "when the make-up comes off" (or goes on, I do not remember the exact wording), because at the end of the day, women just don't do friendship, and it all ends in catfights over men or popularity or fashion, right?

This really set me off, because it's a vicious narrative constantly told by the media surrounding the film industry. There's a tendency to pit actresses against each other for "the top spot", even on top of all the criticisms they can garner for their fashion sense, or movie choices or weight fluctuations (the last one is a rant for another day). There'll always be rumours of affairs and such, but the often faked stories of cat fights always push this idea that two actresses cannot, absolutely cannot, have a functional friendship - or even just a professional relationship, when working on a film together.

Of course, it'd be ridiculous to claim this was all media-made, but consider about the ease of stirring up controversy by just making up things. If somebody you know tells you a friend has said awful things about you, even once your friend says it's not true, the suspicion that they're lying to cover it up will remain in your head. Now consider if this is a friend you're not particularly close to, but have some links through mutual friends and work connections, and of course there's all this gossip around - maybe there are rumours that this friend has flirted with the person you're romantically involved with, or said even more horrible things about somebody you do consider a close friend.. The sheer level of mean-spirited cattiness in the film industry circles must be through the roof, so who do you trust, at the end of the day?

Rani is sometimes criticized as being too diplomatic in her answers. In Koffee with Karan, she refuses to align herself with this, that or the other. She's friends with Salman, Shahrukh and Aamir. She likes all the new up-and-comer actresses. In an industry so full of camps and alliances, you could argue she's being dishonest for the sake of continuing to get work, but could it be more than that? Maybe she's decided it's better not to play these media games, and say catty things about people you barely now, just to get a laugh out of a talk show host who loves his "film fraternity" gossip (note how it's "fraternity", not "sorority" or even the gender-neutral "community"). That it's more professional to say nice things about everybody, and keep any negativity you might have silent, because it is essentially a work environment - and there's nothing more poisonous to a work environment than idle gossip.

It's not like the men of Bollywood are immune to these sorts of bust-ups. In fact, you could argue that the media machine is often just as horrible about male friendship (or lack thereof). It is a business, and at the end of the day, people are competing against each other, despite any personal fondness towards one another. Still, I've always sensed that there is this general myth about actresses and friendship - that all of their friendships are fake, all the ladies are catty towards one another and fighting it out, over men or over films or over fame. Some of the stars play their own part in manufacturing these rivalries, because if you're not making headlines, you're not a star. How much have Kareena and Priyanka gained over their well-documented rivalry ..but you could also ask, how much have they lost?

It's a cycle; the idea that there is no female friendship among actresses perpetuates the idea that female friendship overall is a phony concept, and therefore why would you make films about it (or female-centric films overall), and even if such a film was being made, no two actresses would sign up to do it because they are always in such strong competition with one another, without any chance of friendship, or solidarity, or even just professional politeness. And of course, female-centric films do not fare well at the box office, or so the common belief goes, and thus a lot of top actresses are reluctant to sign up to do such films in the first place.

What gives? I hope for some people to be brave enough to break this cycle. Producers, directors, actresses themselves.. We've seen steps in the right direction, No One Killed Jessica being one example. Now let's race towards that direction.

30 Days of Film - Day 4.

4. A movie that makes you sad

I don't think there is a film that is more of a perfect tearjerker than Paa out there in the world. It completely caught me off-guard in how it tugged at every heart-string I had, and how strongly it made me buy into the premise that should've perhaps been a little too hard to swallow (mainly the gimmick-y idea that here was Amitabh Bachchan playing the son to his own son, Abhishek). But somehow the film pulls it off brilliantly. The plot is Hindi films' stock-in-trade of a family coming together after being separated, but the how's and why's of the story are just well-told and the performances lift the story into major tearjerker territory. 

Everything from the love story between Abhishek and Vidya Balan's characters to the father-son relationship just makes me weep. I was a complete mess after watching the film; so much so I haven't dared to rewatch it. I suppose it's a bit of a misnomer to say this is a film that makes me sad - sometimes you cry because something is touching, or precious, or beautiful, or finally happening. It's only part of the time that you in cry in Paa because it's making you sad. 

For truly, truly depressing cinema, I tend to go for Tamil director Bala's hopeless brand of cinema, but for a tearjerker, Paa is unbeatable for me.

Kahaani: unraveling intrigue.

This post contains SPOILERS because to paraphrase Don - to discuss Kahaani without mentioning spoilers is not difficult, it's impossible. Please just go watch the film before reading, you won't regret it, as it's a tight, solid thriller. 

Goodness me, do they make good movies in Mumbai without sticking Vidya Balan in them? Does she get first pick for every character-driven film with an awesome female role?

One could hardly protest, if this was the case. 

I think the real joy in watching a film like Kahaani are threefold. First off, it's a brilliant depiction of Kolkata in a way that doesn't come off like a bureau of tourism paid for it, but still makes you want to visit the city and learn about its various facets, much like Vidya's character in this does. Previously I didn't think much of the city, but now I definitely want to visit it. 

Secondly, it is very likely to completely bamboozle its viewer in a way that is simply delightful. I would never claim to be the most perceptive or clever watcher when it comes to solving mysteries, but what this film does is that I'm sure even the most attentive viewer would be following the wrong things in the mystery. The simplest deception is often the most brilliant: when you're busy trying to piece together how the hell there are no records, no data, no sign of her husband, and how deep the corruption inside the Intelligence Bureau must go for the main perpetrator of the terrorist attack to go free, you fail to question that very starting point for the story. After all, it's just the starting point. 

Vidya's performance convinced me so much that even the times when I maybe noticed some hints here and there, and thought to myself, "Maybe she's not really pregnant, maybe she's lying about some things," I quickly brushed these suspicions away and focused on something else. There's also a lot here to think about, and ponder through. The different multiplicities, from Bengali nicknames to Bob Biswas' ordinary demeanor, and the parallel mysteries of the missing husband and the terrorist attack two years previous, as well as the constant Durga festival references, keep the viewer busy, but just might make sure you miss out on the most essential mystery of them all. Our heroine is so genuine, likable, determined and puzzled by her new surroundings that you're more likely to suspect everybody else, not her.

Maybe because of that unquestioning reliance on our main character, if there's one thing I wish the film had had more of, it's back story for her. How long was this all planned? Did she have background in her husband's line of work? Of course, not all questions need to be answered, far from it, but it's a thing I found myself thinking through after the film ended.

The performances are pretty much all solid. I doubt I'm the only viewer who really warmed to the Bengali actor Parabrattam Chatterjee. He conveniently reminded me that I've only seen one Bengali film - my continuing like of Tamil & Telugu films kind of makes me forget that regional, non-Hindi cinema doesn't just mean films of those two big industries, and there's much outside them I should probably explore.

Still gathering thoughts: sexuality & tragic stardom of The Dirty Picture.

Despite the perhaps all-too-academic sounding title, I simply wanted to write another post about The Dirty Picture for a very simple reason. I read bunch of reviews that looked at it critically, analysed it a bit and perhaps concluded it wasn't a film worth its hype, or even worth the price paid for a ticket. And even though I disagree with that assessment - I still love the film and anticipate rewatches! - I did agree with some points those reviews brought up. (This is not the first time this has happened, obviously. I can agree with a lot of things about my favourites which other people found fatal flaws.)

SPOILERS FROM HEREON.

The biggest question for me are the multiple conundrums the film throws at us and perhaps doesn't quite resolve. Silk's sexuality gets center stage, but Silk herself - or even deeper, Reshma, doesn't. Perhaps rightly so, you may think. Isn't her sexual agency what made her who she is? It's what carries her through. She uses it to her magnificent advantage, and perhaps best of all, does not let anybody victimise her for doing so. She's not a meek girl who a sleazy producer propositions in a typical casting couch cliché; she goes out there and does whatever she feels she needs to do, and things simply click in place.

However, this is not a survivor story - when she has her final down to end the supreme high she's been riding on, she still has agency, but doesn't pull herself back out. She perseveres through hatred, but not sadness.

People have commented a lot on the fact that all this story is framed through the words and perspective of the man who hates her, Abraham. This is, depending on your perspective, either an interesting choice or a lazy one. Lazy one, because it allows Silk to be displayed precisely for this sexual agency that Abraham, in almost an unabashedly misogynist manner, loathes. It provides the masala and the titillation for the masses without scratching deeper into the character that Vidya Balan so beautifully portrays.

But this choice can also be an interesting one, because this allows the viewer to question their own viewership. When Silk is framed through Abraham, it becomes clear that we're getting a version of her story, rather than her actual story. We, just like Abraham, merely sit in the audience of the film of Silk, rather than truly stepping into her shoes. We're the same audience Silk builds her success on, but at the same time the one who categorises her into the role of a vamp, so she cannot show she can do more. We don't need to be shown more, we're happy with the sexy song and dance, to have our base need for entertainment catered to.

I say we, but obviously I don't know what everybody else was thinking when they began to think through this film. I can't make this judgment about everybody. But I did start to have these thoughts, because this kind of stardom, this idealised, fragmented idea of what a star is like, is very important to Indian films. The film remains a masala, and I'm not trying to portray it as anything but - it doesn't blatantly hold up a mirror to its audience, but there are these things that rather make me wonder.

I've got this book on Marilyn Monroe, only it's not a book about Marilyn herself, or rather - it's precisely that. It's about the Marilyn created, the stories told of her, the reality that is constructed with bits and pieces of her myth, from her dyed blonde hair to her tragic suicide. We all know her story, and we all have a version of this story; we see her as a victim, or a queen, or a little girl who was just lost, or a woman exploited by men, or whatever. And there are stories similar to hers, and these kinds of iconic women with tragic endings tend to fascinate the culture at large. What happened? What went wrong? Why wasn't she the ideal that we saw on-screen, but just a human being who was sad? Or is that just another interpretation, desperately trying to reach some sort of conclusive truth where none can be found?

So you can see why the film makers wanted to tell this story, because it grips people, it fascinates people, and everybody wants to get at some sort of greater truth of it all. That's the nature of stardom, even when it's built on raw sexuality, the distance between the "real" person and the "star persona".

The question remains - could we get Silk's real story? Or would we be more satisfied with this version, because it creates the myth on our behalf - even through the imperfect lens of Abraham's character?

Masala, titillation, entertainment: The Dirty Picture.

I confess it took me about 20 minutes to figure out the kind of film that The Dirty Picture was trying to be. I think that despite seeing the colourful, glorious trailer, I was still expecting something a bit more grounded - the way that sound effects accented the dramatic moments felt a bit off at first. But pretty soon after something just clicked. There is depth to The Dirty Picture, but it's not the sort of depth an art film or a social film would try to infuse into this life of the sex symbol Silk, played by Vidya Balan. The depth comes from the fact that this is just a superbly written masala picture, but it doesn't try to be a message film or gritty social commentary. And that's a very, very good thing.


Why is it a good thing? Because I find it's more respectful to the character if you don't try to make a message film from her. There's something pretty great about the lack of moralism - at least in my eyes - in The Dirty Picture. While narrated by her biggest enemy, there isn't any kind of judgment on Silk for her choices, good or bad by the way that her story is told. I didn't feel invited to approve or disapprove of her all the time - there were nuances to her, as to the other characters. Any judgment comes from the people around her, but she faces all this with distinct defiance.

She is what she is, and she's defined by her choices, but also by the world around her. It's an interesting dichotomy, and one that everybody in the film portrays very well. For a masala, there are naturally villains and heroes - she is the heroine, definitely. But there are also shades to the characters.


Balan's brilliance is almost a given at this point. I've been so impressed and frankly just moved by her performances in films like Paa and No One Killed Jessica, so I always knew she'd excel here - she can portray Silk's fragile side, her self-confidence even when it goes to the point of arrogance and her exuberance. Perhaps the bigger surprises therefore are the other performances, like Tusshar Kapoor as the man who adores Silk, or Emraan Hashmi as the man who loathes her. Hashmi especially won me over - the journey his character takes is intriguing, and I had severe prejudice about him, having only seen him in Gangster, which was only not a very good film but also not a very good performance. (The fact he's spent half his career practically eating faces of female co-stars hasn't endeared me to him either. I'm fine with kissing but his films rarely seemed to feature good on-screen kisses.)

But in this, I positively loved him, and I thought the chemistry between him and Vidya was practically through the roof. I would not mind seeing them in another film together, and I hope I'm not the only one.


As with any good masala, the songs were a delight, and the cinematography beautiful. I've not read a whole lot of response to this film, but when people name this the best film of last year, I think I'd be strongly inclined to agree. I saw a fair amount of last year's batch of pictures, and considering my enjoyment, and how likely I am to rewatch something, it's pretty clear that Dirty was perhaps the best picture of them all.

London times - No One Killed Jessica & just a smidgeon of Dhobi Ghat.

So I visited London a short while ago. As usual, this meant visiting the Ayngaran Video shop in Colliers Wood (which still has friendly staff and amazing deals! I cannot recommend it enough). I'll try to watch all the films I bought uncharacteristically fast and not let the DVD's lie around waiting for me to get to them, so expect a lot of Tamil goodness in this blog soon! But what was also great about visiting London was what is a rare treat for me - Bollywood in an actual movie theatre.

Unlike last time I visited the UK (last year May), I had better luck with what was running while I was over there. Sure there was Yamla Pagla Deewana or whatever the hell that film is called, which I very decidedly gave a miss in favour of No One Killed Jessica - a film I was curious about and had heard good things about, though hadn't actually read any reviews, professional or non.

I had a feeling I would like it and I certainly did. Now, being as out of the loop as I have in the past, uhh, I don't know, year or so?, it's hard to tell what the consensus on the film is in the world of Bollywood. When I later on met Daddy's Girl she told me that the reviews for the film hadn't been all that, which surprised me - I'd only seen praise, from Bolly-fanatics and not-so-much alike. I guess it just depends where you look.

NOKJ, for those unfamiliar, is a story that mixes fact and fiction about the death of Jessica Lal, who was shot in a crowded bar full of people but whose killer still went unconvicted for a long time (hence the title). The film's story focuses on two main characters, Jessica's sister Sabrina (Vidya Balan) and Meera (Rani Mukherji), a tough-as-nails journalist who at first ignores the case, believing it not to be worth her time, but eventually ends up working passionately to expose the authorities' mishandling of the case.

That's probably giving a way too much, to be honest. I went in not knowing anything and came out loving it. It was just a well-made movie, and a fantastic example of how a female character-driven film can work just as well as something hero-focused. Vidya Balan shone in the role, so much so I could feel the pain that her character felt, and found myself welling up constantly. I later wondered if I'd ever cried so much at a film. Then I realised I had, of course, wept myself silly at Paa (with also Vidya in it ..coincidence?). And Rani was also great, even if her character's sharp, bitchy edge could've been written a little less over-the-top. I am also just so happy she is doing these alternative types of roles, as opposed to the usual YRF fare. Mind you, I am one of the few who love her even in those fluff pieces, but she's a better actress than to limit herself to roles of that kind, and the self-assured, independent and career-minded Meera was just one of those performances that isn't going to be easily forgotten.

It's a film that tugs at the heart-strings in a massive way, has that lovely against-authority-power-to-the-people Rang De Basanti type of edge to boot and yeah, really enjoyed it. I hope this is a sign of things to come for 2011. Maybe if we get a ton of films as good as this one, I'll jump more actively on the Bollywood-train, because I've just been watching it go by for a really long while now (though I've always kept rewatching old favourites and suchlike).

Unfortunately, when I meant to go see Dhobi Ghat with Ros, luck was not on our side! First all of the trains in her direction were cancelled so she was late, then we went to the wrong screen, then we find the right screen and sit down to watch around 15 minutes of the film, only to have the projector break down so bad we get our tickets refunded. And this was basically my last day so I couldn't go see the film the next day. Based on what I saw, the film certainly looked interesting - Prateik (Babbar)'s looked like a promising performance, and we were just getting to the part where Aamir Khan's character starts figuring out what the tapes left at his new apartment were about. I enjoyed the low-key feel of the film and ...yeah, it was disappointing as hell, even as I got my money back from the £10.70 film tickets. I guess I'll wait for DVD?

Siiiiigh.

Anyway, I realise I really need to get on a move on with this blog! Expect a thinky (extremely!) analytical post on Chak De India which is based on an essay I wrote. I still haven't done my Filmi Year 2010 post because .. I feel like I really have not seen all the best films of 2010.

So let me throw this one out to you.. I've seen Striker, Housefull and ..uhh, really, self, is that it? I guess it is. I will DEFINITELY be checking out Dabangg, Baava and possibly Tere Bin Laden, Band Baaja Barat. In fact, I should go look all of those up on Nehaflix for my next Bolly-DVD order.

But anyway - what were your favourites of 2010? What would you recommend I see? (Knowing my tastes, as hopefully the regular readers do, if just a little.)

Paa - where even the skeptic in me goes, "Wow."

I had a lot of prejudice regarding Paa, for a lot of the obvious reasons. Amitabh Bachchan's acting skills are so praised that there seem to be no new height for things to be said about them to be reached. If everything he does is the best thing ever (aside from Aag) according to people then nothing he does is the best because there's nowhere for him to go. So there was a real sense of people appreciating him because he was taking this leap and because he was AB, not because
the performance was actually worth praising.

And of course, the gimmick of a father playing a son to his own son, and portraying a child with a genetic defect that allows some believability to that, it all just seemed like too much. I was really uncertain whether this movie was a victim of overhype, whether I'd find anything likable in it, just whether it'd work.

And then I saw it.

And it worked. It really worked.

Ramsu's review convinced me to put aside my prejudice and give this film a try, and I am so glad I did. It's been a while since I've been this affected by a movie. I was just so broken by every emotional cue the film gave me, constantly getting misty-eyed, and utterly in pieces during the final scenes. It was kind of ridiculous, but I also loved it. Sometimes a tear-jerker is just what I needed, and because bullshit family drama ala K3G does nothing to my tear-ducts, films like Paa are in high demand.

Vidya Balan broke me the most. There's just something so believable and captivating about her performance. She simply excels at playing these sort of very grounded characters, and of course she looked absolutely amazing. Abhishek wasn't far behind, though.

And then there's Amitabh. I could critisize certain visual aspects of Auro that don't necessarily make for the most realistic portrayal of somebody with Progeria, and the fact a tall man is tough to shrink down in size. And I could also talk about how the character has a bit of "noble sick person" syndrome happening. But you know what? I don't really care. I just bought it, and that's the chief victory of this performance.

The cinematography and editing were top notch, and even if there was a somewhat unnecessary side plot, it's safe to say I really enjoyed the emotional rollercoaster ride of Paa. Sometimes I guess I should believe the hype.

So tell me, Guru...

The first time I saw Mani Ratnam's Guru, I was put off by the idolization the main character receives in the movie. He's a businessman making profit any means necessary, disregarding laws and regulations, and yet this corruptness is being redeemed. Some people shared my problem; others were fine with the message, and it seemed, so was the Indian public, whose consensus is usually shown at the box office. People on Bollywhat's discussion of the film pointed out how this really is admirable to the Indian people - knowing how bureaucracy and other regulations limit a person's possibilities to succeed and make money, Guru's ingenuity is not condemnable but admirable. These sort of opinions opened by my eyes to look at the film a little differently. Still, I remained unimpressed.

I liked the songs, though, so I bought the DVD and just today, after over a year, sat down to rewatch it.

Unsurprisingly the story failed to engage me to watch the film all the way through. I guess it's just simply not Mani's best, though I certainly like some things about it. Abhishek's performance is undoubtedly a strong one, and the songs are lovely.

Aishwarya is rarely this lively and convincing in a role, which I guess just proves she needs a good director to pull a performance out of her. The love story within the film is down to earth and portrays two people who love and support one another, simple as that.

But even with those factors, my favourite thing about the film is hands down the graituitous love story line between Vidya Balan's and Madhavan's characters. It's not crucial to the plot in any way - Vidya's character, the disabled Meenu, doesn't really exist for any other reason than to give Guru more human, sympathetic flavor (as she and him are friends throughout the years). Madhavan's Shyam Saxena is a young journalist looking to reveal Guru's business frauds to the great public and therefore an important character, but there's no real reason why he ends up developing a bond to Meenu.

And yet, there it is. An utterly perfect, swoonworthy little tale of romance amidst this otherwise pretty straight-forward dramatic biopic. It's in touch with realities, too, of course, but still rather sweetly so.

What about the moral message, then? To be honest, I don't know. It is what it is, I guess. If the system is rotten, should we obey the system's rules? On the other hand, neither the film or its hero is looking for things to change - as things are, so they will be, and the thing to do is to try to make the best of it. Even if that means going against the rules.

I just know this; despite the film's credits, it's far from being one of my favourites. Maybe the story of an Indian entrepeneur isn't something to interest me despite impressive cast & crew. Perhaps it's just something lacking in the script or the way the story develops.

And here's another thought that occurred to me while watching: maybe we just expect too much from Mani Ratnam these days. It seems like he's the resident Good Director around, and any project with him usually gets most Hindi film fans salivating at the promise of another great Mani Ratnam film. And while the man has undoubtedly been responsible for a lot of really good films in the past, I suppose it doesn't really help when everybody's expecting a new Dil Se or a new Iruvar at the least. Next time, let's remind ourselves of Guru and Yuva before seeing Mani-ji's next venture, okay? (I know I will.)

Who's your daddy. Eklavya: the Royal Guard.

Eklavya is the film made famous not by its quality, its cast or its box office success (or even lack thereof) but rather the fact that India sent it to the Oscars and then retrieved it, after a scandal of the decision panel being biased (namely, one or two of the judges being involved in the making of the film itself). Some Indian film makers commented on the scandal and on the film, and the director Vidhu Vinod Chopra threw a public hissyfit, not doing himself or his film a favor - most people I saw commenting on the polemic didn't side with VVC.

But let's talk about the movie. I followed the promotion of it pre-release, being excited for the return of the Parineeta jodi Saif-Vidya, as well as Boman Irani, Amitabh, Sanjay Dutt and Sharmila Tagore in a special appearance. The film was delayed several times (never a good sign) and on my first watch of it, I was immensely disappointed. The story of Eklavya (Amitabh Bachchan), a guard of the royal court of Devigarh, in a world where the traditionalist views no longer seem to matter, and Harshwardhan (Saif Ali Khan), the prince seeing both the tradition and beyond it, seemed somehow empty. What could've been a wonderfully complex tale gets squeezed into just under two hours, and the one song number only seems distracting. There is enormous potential in the cast of talented actors, the interesting set-up and amazing pictures - the cinematography of the film remains memorable. But even so, I was left feeling frustrated. It's simply not as good as it could be, or even as good as it should be.

A year goes by and eventually I bought the DVD, because I'm superficial and will purchase any movie where Saif Ali Khan looks this good in. In the back of my head I also knew I'd have to rewatch it one day and give it the benefit of the doubt. Rewatches often shape my views on films a lot - for better or for worse.

The second time around I understood the core of the story better. VVC is not an amazing director, and the family melodrama that he sinks into the plot of Eklavya is similar to the other film I've seen by him, Mission Kashmir. In many ways this film tries to be a Hollywoodian Hindi movie, but sticks its roots firmly in the filmi traditions of familial bonds, in such a way that it just feels cliché. On my second viewing, I was more accepting of this fact, but even after I've come to terms with the fact, the film is somehow less than the sum of its parts. The imagery is gorgeous, some of the performances are great (Saif, biased as I may be saying this, gives his character some interesting depth, Sanjay Dutt as a lower caste cop has only a few scenes but is very effective in them, Boman Irani delivers and I once again adored Raima Sen) and certain scenes really stand out in their execution (a certain dark scene, the narration during the credits, the final confrontation).

All in all, I wish this film had a better script - one that gave screen time to the backstory and all the different characters, their motivations and thoughts. It's basically a Bollywood story with a Hollywood script, and this is why both need to play on their own yards for now. The longwindedness of Indian cinema, the jumps in time and place, the song numbers that take place in the plane of imagination, all of these lend to the storytelling of a good Hindi film. When you take away all of that, what's left isn't a good film - at best its a summary of a good film, which is exactly what Eklavya feels like.