Saat din, Abhay ke saath - my week with Abhay.

I'm typically late to the party. Not too late, I always catch the tail-end of it. But I always find myself starting the "getting ready" routine only when I know most people are on their way to the location or already there. So that's when it comes to real life parties, but in other things, too. The cool things are typically in my periphery for a long time before I'm all, "wait, that thing everybody's talking about? I just caught on and they're right, it's awesome!". Of course, there are the exceptions, but let's ignore those, for the sake of a neat metaphor, shall we?

So Abhay Deol was one of those hip things I saw other people get into and sort of gush about and I was just like, "Oh, some guy Shweta is really into? I could investigate this but I have dishes to do."

I know, I suck.

But then I caught on enough to watch Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd (discussed here) and thought, yeah, okay, I kind of see it now. But you know, that movie had so many people, I didn't feel like I'd fully looked into this whole thing (I could call it a phenomenon but it's not like Abhay fangirlism is sweeping the nation? or is it? it should!).

That is, until, this week I watched four Abhay Deol movies. Studies? Life? Who cares! If my teachers ask, I'll tell them, I am a Dharmendra nepotist. If his nephew is doing movies, then dammit I am going to watch those movies. If my teachers ask, "Who is Dharmendra?", I'll tell them, "Tera baap!" ["Your dad!", only it sounds cooler in Hindi, naturally].

Dev.D (2009) I must preface with the following disclaimer; I haven't seen the previous Hindi film adaptations of the story but I know the story of Devdas itself. Anurag Kashyap's take has been praised for taking the old story to a brand new level, and indeed the film is awesome to watch. It flows smoothly, the visuals are great, the music is integrated seamlessly and all acting is top-notch; Abhay plays the lead role with just the right panache in the beginning and later, wrecklessness that spirals more and more out of control. Mahi Gill as Paro is a total find, and even though I didn't love Kalki Koechlin as Chanda, I thought she did a good job. The women are not helpless, and totally unapologetic about their sexuality; this was a great, rare feat in Hindi films.

I guess the only real flaw, if you can call it that, is the fact that the ending didn't make me a fan of the film. I never had a problem with the story of Devdas, my disinterest towards the other filmed adaptations came mainly from the fact I didn't like the director (Sanjay Leela Bhansali) or wasn't too interested in the main star (with the case of Dilip Kumar's Devdas). So I wasn't dying to see the story spun into something radically different. Some were, and those people loved this movie, and I can see why they would. But personally? It was like, not love, between me and the film.


Socha Na Tha (2004) was the first film by the now well-known Imtiaz Ali, and also Abhay's debut as I understand it. It's a fresh little love story, about Viren (Abhay) and Aditi (Ayesha Takia being adorable), who get matched for matrimony by their parents but decline the offer. As they meet, however, they discover they find it very easy to talk to one another and as the relationship between their families grows sour, they themselves become friends and naturally, then some more. The film is a little dated in terms of the overblown family affairs messiness, but the love story itself is very cute and well-written, with sharp dialogue. Ayesha Takia is just fantastic in this, and perfect counterpoint to Abhay's slightly clueless Viren.

The subtitles began lagging on the last third, which diminished a lot of my enjoyment of the film, but there's one particular scene where the couple has some incredible bickering that left me feeling great about the movie. Imtiaz Ali sure has a handle on dialogue; just like in JWM, the conversations between the two leads seemed natural, yet witty, funny and perfectly adorable.

Manorama Six Feet Under (2007) is a thriller directed by Navdeep Singh, telling the story of Satyaveer (Abhay) who abandoned his dreams of being a novelist after his first novel, Manorama, sold very few copies. He lives a dull existence in a desert town called Lakhot with his wife Nimi (Gul Panag), until a woman named Manorama comes to his door, and hires him as a private detective like the main character in his novel. This involves Satyaveer with a web of lies, cover-ups and murder.

I wouldn't call this film badly scripted in general, but sadly something just made the whole thing drag and feel dull like tumbleweeds somewhere in the middle. It starts off nicely, and picks up pace considerably once the pieces of the puzzle begin to form, but the middle part almost made me turn the movie off. Thankfully I stuck with it, and once again loved Raima Sen, who plays Manorama's flatmate Sheetal and Vinay Pathak, the policewallah who is also Satyaveer's brother-in-law. Gul Panag who shone in Dor is very effective here, and there's a brilliant chemistry between her and Abhay in this; it feels very ordinary but at the same time has those signs that despite the mundaness of the relationship, these two people do love each other deeply. Abhay is great, too. You can tell the character is filling a hole in his existence, by getting involved with something he knows he probably shouldn't, and even when he encounters setbacks, he's not likely to give up.

I liked it, especially for the acting, and the film noir likeliness, but the story really could've been tighter.

My favourite out of the Abhay Deol films I've seen thus far, though? Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! (2008) without a doubt. A black comedy about Lucky, a thief extraordinaire, whose greatest talent is his wit and his acting, the way he smoothly talks people out of their possessions, and gets away with it with the greatest of ease. It's just an incredibly well written, fun ride, that constantly had me chuckling. The cast of characters also includes Paresh Rawal in three roles (and Paresh Rawal, being the comic genius that he is, fantastically gives each character their own flair, so much so I almost forget he is playing all of them), Manu Rishi as Lucky's hapless sidekick (and apparently also the film's dialogue writer!) and Neetu Chandra as Sonal, Lucky's girlfriend. The acting was all around great, but naturally the film belongs to Abhay's comfortable demeanor, though I can't not mention Manjot Singh, who plays young Lucky with the vibrant humor that the older version of the character definitely downplays.

This film was really so ace that I am using the word 'ace' and finding it difficult to actually name something I didn't totally love. It's not too lengthy so the pace felt comfortable and it's jam-packed with moments I feel I need to rewatch to appreciate properly, some big ones (like when a cop wants to know who is Sunny) and some smaller ones (like the little conversation between Sonal and Lucky's older brother's wife, probably the only one between two women, but so thick with things unsaid it caught my attention). And like a cherry on top, there's a reference to Vinod Khanna. Film, you had my heart, right there and then.

It's a definite favourite for me. I love it when Hindi cinema does black comedy, especially when it's this damn good.

And now? Now I just eagerly await Aisha (however they choose to spell that title), with Abhay and Sonam Kapoor who look adorable in this first look. Apparently the film is a loose adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma, which is not my favourite Austen because I find Emma quite an annoying character throughout most of the story, but I really like Sonam and she's no eyesore, and Austen adaptations are always fun so .. yay!

And to those who are still late to the Abhay party? Consider this post your e-vite. A lot of us are already here and having a blast. The bar is serving Dimple cocktails but they are running out of Malibu so come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!

I'll be waiting for you. Come say hi when you get here!

Mini-reviews, part paanch.

Did you know "punch" was originally an Indian drink, and the word came from 'paanch', Hindi for five? It's true! Not to be confused with Punsch, the Swedish traditional liquor that goes by the name "punssi" in Finland, generally consumed during Shrove Tuesday, which was yesterday. I had a pulla and it was lovely.

Oh, right, mini-reviews. The idea of these is to cover many movies quickly without making a post about each of them. The previous ones are here. I might eventually review some of these at length but for now, small paragraphs will suffice! These are films I've seen ages ago, most way before I began this blog.


41. Boys (2003) - This Tamil film by Shankar is a celebration of youth, a spring-board for many a young star (or perhaps just Siddharth and Bharath). The A. R. Rahman soundtrack is modern and rocking. Too bad the movie's not great. It has some pretty nice comedy but overall it's just not up to standards set by later movies with some of the cast members, or films directed by Shankar. Still, for a Siddharth completist, it's a must-see.

42. Jodhaa Akbar (2008) - Originally reviewed here. Damn epic, glorious film. But maybe a little too epic, too glorious? The visuals are nice, the love story is wonderful and the chemistry between Aishwarya and Hrithik is certainly there, but I think it suffers from the typical Ashutosh Gowariker flaw of being overly long, and a little too packed. Nevertheless, this historical epic has it all, and the hottest sword-fight ever.

43. Don (1978) - Originally reviewed here. I like the original Don but it doesn't fall into any favourites categories. Then again, neither does the remake. It's basically just a lovely 70's classic, with a badass Zeenat performance (her character beats Priyanka in the remake any day of the week).

44. Hamesha (1997) - Ugh, almost don't want to write about this movie. So, Kajol and Saif are favourites and unfortunately this is the only film in which they are romantically paired with (Yeh Dillagi doesn't really count to me since it's clear she only loves Akshay's character in that film). It's this supposedly epic re-incarnation story that is just so horrifically 90's with the fashion and the melodrama and the mullet and it just.. Please do not watch it. Even if many people have actually enjoyed it and been like "What's wrong with you, it's great cheese!". I like cheese. But this cheese stinks.

45. Andaz Apna Apna (1994) - My favourite comedy in any language ever, reviewed here. It's also really loud and slapstick and not everybody's thing but what do I care? It is so my thing.

46. Lekin... (1990) - Slow-paced but rather interesting supernatural mystery type film from director Gulzar. I watched this because it had Vinod Khanna and Dimple Kapadia, and a brilliant dance sequence by Hema Malini, the best one I've ever seen her do. If you don't mind watching 90's Vinod, it's a good film to go for, though like most Gulzar films, it's pretty slow and has super-long song sequences. Only this director can make a poetic film about such a peculiar question as, "Do ghosts exist?".

47. Shaque (1976) - A Vinod-Shabana film I watched in sync with Carla, my review here and hers is here. It's a weird one, basically a lowkey drama film about a wife (Shabana) who suspects her husband (Vinod) has killed a man and the drifts this causes in their marriage. As a drama goes, it's pretty good, but at some point near the end the film takes a sudden left turn and goes all masala on us. It's really sad it's not a better film because if it was, it'd be the best sample of this pair's collaboration.

48. Gangster (2006) - Does anybody else feel weird talking about Shiney Ahuja after his trouble with the law regarding a rape charge? Ugh, anyway. Gangster's an okay film. I thought Kangana as the woman struggling with her love being a gangster was effective, but that's about it - I hate to be judgmental but this movie basically made sure I'll never watch another Emraan Hashmi film. The utterly ripped off soundtrack is unfortunately also very catchy. Pritam, how we hate you.

49. Patthar Aur Payal (1974) - This is basically an okay 70's masala I like perhaps a little too much for its actual quality; it's one of those films that has crystalized as special to me even though it's merely all right. Dharmendra plays a bandit reformed by the love of a good woman (Hema Malini). But naturally there's a villain (Vinod Khanna). There are some pretty nice songs, though. Here's my favourite.

50. Life in a Metro (2007) - Hey, doesn't this share a director with Gangster? This film has a cast of characters whose lives zigzag in the city of Mumbai. Again, it's an okay film with some stand-out performances (Irfan! Sharman Joshi! Konkona Sen Sharma!). Kangana again plays a deeply troubled young woman, which makes me wonder if she's being a little typecast.. The film has its good moments, which is why I could edit it down to the better storylines and cut out all the distracting songs, picturized badly on a bunch of guys who wander the streets aimlessly.

God of disinterest - Naan Kadavul.

I like to keep my Valentine Day's watching horribly dark and so thought-provoking my head is spinning, so I opted for Naan Kadavul, a 2009 Tamil film directed by Bala. Name sound familiar? I've talked about his filmography before. This one he won a National Award for and I can certainly see why. Naan Kadavul is an incredibly powerful cinematic experience, though one I never want to rewatch.

The film is titled "I am god" for its depiction of an Aghori ascetic Rudra (Arya) whose father abandoned him in Kasi, and later came to find him again, only to discover Rudra utterly emerged in the Aghori sect, distant and unable to form human connections. Regardless, his guru allows Rudra's father to take the ascetic back to their Tamil Nadu home, where the mother is understandably distraught at the sight of this creature. Slowly the movie shifts towards telling the story of a group of beggars with various disabilities, one of whom is a blind girl Hamsavalli (Pooja Umashankar). They beg outside the temple Rudra eventually takes residence in, wasting away his days smoking ganja.

The cast of characters being so underprivileged, begging for a ruthless boss, is quite hard to watch, but Bala's depiction of them never feels downright exploitative. These are characters with humor, with agency, with courage to challenge even the ones they ask money from.

The movie is full on Bala, with a constant sense of hopelessness hanging over the story-telling, but even with this, I wanted to see these characters, especially Hamsavalli come out on top. Somehow. I wasn't sure how. I wasn't sure why. But I wanted it to happen. Even though I knew full well it wouldn't.

Rudra's character is somebody who I couldn't quite figure out until I read a thing or two about the Aghori ascetics. Like most Bala main characters, he is essentially an outsider without his own choosing. He is completely removed from society in the traditional sense, and from human relationships; he has enveloped god and has become Kala Bhairava (fierce manifestation of Shiva). He is extreme in every manner imaginable, in his talk, in his stance, in his lifestyle. He acts not like how I'd imagine a god would, but certainly with the bravado of one. I'm glad the story shifts away from him because he's not at all relatable as a character, though he is fascinating.

What is God? Well, Rudra claims he is God, but he is also a very particular sort of God. What struck me as weirdly radical was the absolute lack of care he has for humans, or human suffering. He is detached from all this to the point of absurd, and since the film doesn't really doubt his deity (though characters in it do), one is left to ponder, is this what God is? Blind to the suffering of his worshippers?

Contrast this with the incredible human, vulnerable Hamsavalli, in a performance that surely was more award-worthy than Priyana in Fashion. Her story allows the viewers deeper into the lives of the beggars, and this really becomes the center of the story; it's rather unheard of that the most human characters in a film are this much in the margins of society. The cast of characters is nicely varied, and one particular stand-out is the "keeper" of the beggars, Murugan (Krishnamoorthy), who feels absolutely terrible about the job he has to do, and feels he is sinning every day by working for the dreadful man who makes these beggars beg for him. There is something really interesting about this life he's gotten himself into, half-befriended all these disabled beggars, half-contributing to their suffering.

The soundtrack is a hauntingly beautiful one by Ilayraja, and the film is also punctured by Tamil oldie songs popping up every now and then during the first half, which I thoroughly enjoyed even though it harkened back to one scene in Pithamagan a little too much.

I hesitate to call Bala's films realistic, because the word has so many meanings. Is realism what could happen in real life, or what does? I feel like that no matter what awful based-in-real-life things he rolls out for people to see, the undercurrent is always a little fantastical and melodramatic. At the same time, I can only really blame my own psyche for thinking that the more grim and horrible Bala's films become, the more grounded in reality they actually are.

If you're a fan of Bala's, like I am, you've probably seen this by now. It's a tough film to recommend, but it's also a tough film not to recommend. Definitely won't be everybody's cup of chai but I liked it a lot. It's rare to see film-making this potent, or stories of this kind, period.

And since I feel like I can never quite do justice when talking about films of this sort, some further reading for those interested: The Hindu review [spoilers for the film] - Qalandar's review [note: contains spoilers for another Bala film, Pithamagan]

*** Photo note: The first picture is a pre-shooting promo still. The latter two are more representative to what the film looks like. But I liked the first picture so much I had to post it anyway.

The easiest way to live to 90! The concept of Pran Years.

This meme will hopefully spread like wildfire around the internet because not only does it honor the lifework of Pran Krishnan Sikand, it's also a fantastic way to disguise your real age, should you want to do so. (Pran's birthday was recently so this is topical, too!)

Pran Years also puts out a challenge to all who consider themselves Pran fans. You can't really go all completist on a filmography that boasts nearly 300 titles ...but you can try!

So here's the math of Pran Years.

* Each year is as many Pran Years as the films he made that particular year. For a lack of a better source, IMDb will be our source for Pran filmography.

* If Pran didn't make any films that year, it counts as two Pran Years, because that year was still in during the lifetime of Pran.

* Should you wish to count your grandmother's Pran Years, and she was born before Pran (that is, before 1920), any year before Pran's birth counts as one Pran year.

So let's math it out!

Pran's last film appearance was in 2003 so between that and now there are 14 Pran Years (henceforth PY). I was born in 1987 so my PY count comes up to 69. My dad, however, is 251 PY-old. Even a millennium child would be 16 in PY!

Pointless? Silly? Yes! But also a lot of fun.

A much more difficult way to live up to 90 years old, by the way, is actually living to 90 years old, which Pran admirably has. May he live well beyond that.

Indian - a big film deserves a big review.

I suppose it's not totally impossible for a person who primarily taps into the Hindi side of Indian films to understand what the term, "a film by Shankar" truly means. After all, he has done Nayak: The Hero with Anil Kapoor and Rani Mukherji, and there are Hindi-dubbed versions of both Anniyan (relabeled Aparichit) and Indian (which translated to Hindustani) out there. But at least to my non-Indian sensibilities, his style is full-on Southie, and his broad-appeal films need to be digested in Tamil, as most of them were intended to.

I've talked about Anniyan before, and reviewed Sivaji: The Boss. Besides those, I've seen Nayak and Boys, and now I've also seen Indian, which is nothing short of essential Shankar, coupled with the acting legend Kamal Hassan and an A. R. Rahman soundtrack.


The plot of Indian is fairly simple in the beginning, but blows up to extremely epic proportions by the end of the film. Chandru (Kamal Hassan) does servant-type favors to a rich family in order to get a promotion in his public servant career. The daughter of the family Sapna (Urmila Matondkar) bosses him around haughtily, which doesn't sit well with his animal-loving girlfriend Aishwarya (Manisha Koirala). Meanwhile, a police detective Krishnaswamy (Nedumudi Venu) is tracking down a series of murders, where all victims are government employees and the killer appears to be an old man (also Kamal Hassan) who simply goes by the name Indian...


So, what is Shankar all about, then? First and foremost, at the core of most of his films are the societal ills that affect India as a country. I've often thought about these social message Southie masalas, that tackle pretty serious topics, like corruption, black money, etc. The films typically offer up one hero to preach at the crowds and scare the evil-doers into acting responsibly and morally. The message is; if we all stopped doing this, we wouldn't have this problem. Everybody needs to correct their own behavior, and if we all do so, the problem will cease to exist.

Simplistic but true. In both Indian and Anniyan, it takes more than a few bodies to get the message through, something that may not sit well with everybody. But I think I read somewhere that these messages of social change coupled with rather extreme violence are a sort of cathartic release for the audiences, who in their ordinary lives grow frustrated at the corruption or such issues. In real life there is no Vikram, Rajnikanth or Kamal Hassan hero figure to kill all the baddies, but to see the scenario takes away the anger built up in everyday life.

Pure speculation on my part, of course. I've always lived in one of the least corrupt countries in the world. Even if the corruption is exaggerated in this movie, corruption is a big problem and I can't even imagine what the realities must be like..


While the social message, coupled with home-state pride and tons of patriotism (Jai hind! Vande maatram! and so on), is at the core of the film, it is cushioned by masala elements. There are plenty of incredibly imaginative song picturizations (with all the picture manipulation you can imagine they had in 1996), comedy bits here and there, and the romance between Kamal and Manisha is pretty cute.

Even if Indian isn't as solid as some other Shankar films I've seen (Anniyan remains a heavily rewatched favourite), it brings on entertainment in staggering amounts. And the song picturizations are virtually undescribable, so much so I think most of my screencaps are taken from the songs because oh god, they're so fantastically Shankar. Visual, explosive, crazy, full of special effects.. Let's examine the first song, wherein Urmila and Kamal shake a leg together (Kamal may be just a man with a pudgy face to some of you but he's actually a classically trained dancer and is quite entertaining to watch).

We begin with painted faces and bodies. You know, as you would.

Moving onto futuristic black clothes. His cape! It sparkles!

Hawaii-inspired holiday clothes. I can't see the logic that connects this to sparkly cape but I concede because Shankar's cinematic logic is superior to my measly human one.

So then there are some costume changes and Kamal breathes fire. Have I mentioned how much I adore Shankar? This is one of those reasons why.

And of course, the denim costume changes and Urmila's shirt that has fluffy bits over her breasts. I couldn't come up with this stuff. Even on drugs.

Can you make sense of this? It's a total brainmeltdown. I think Shankar just burst through all existing dimensions with his use of CGI. Hot damn.

I love it, love it, love it. But I can't take any more and therefore moving onto another song!

Little penguins and Manisha! Cutest!

Koala kisses!

Non-koala koala kisses! There is something so ridiculously cute about the way this Australia-filmed picturization begins.

But eventually it gets a little strange. They're on an old-timey ship and...

Kamal is a cowboy and...

They're in Australia so naturally they dance in front of the Sydney Opera House.

I think that's enough song picturization screencaps, but I have to post one more. At one point the movie launches into a flashback sequence of the colonial period, which is shot in black&white. Until the point of independence, when we finally get colours and this song, with a glorious cavalcade of Indian costumes from different regions and time periods.

I don't really have that many complaints. It's a good film, maybe just a tad too declaring and harsh, with the hero just a little too full of patriotic zeal. I accept all of that as traits of a Shankar movie, but that doesn't mean I necessarily enjoy. The old make-up on Kamal Hassan and Sukanuya who portrays the wife of "Indian" (at least I think the actress is Sukanuya - if it's not, feel free to correct me) was fairly good but lacked wrinkles and was layed on so thick it made them look very stony-faced. Kamal Hassan's acting can be very expressive but in this character he could only really act with his body and eyes, and I felt the lack of facial expression really hurt the character's believablity and sympathy one should have towards him.

Overall, Indian is the quintessential Shankar films but one that I wouldn't recommend as anybody's first Shankar film. It's a little dated but doesn't fail to entertain.

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Another movie ticked off my Southie to-watch-list. Yay!

What I know, what I've learned, and what I've yet to find out.

I learned English as a second language, and it took a while for me to figure out that ignorant and the verb "ignore" didn't share meaning. You're ignorant if you don't know something, but that doesn't mean you ignore information out there. Or does it?

As a non-desi fan of Indian films I often have to admit ignorance on topics that the movies deal with. I've never been to India (yet!), I'm obviously not Indian and even though I know people of Indian descent, some who've lived there all their lives, I'm not a part of that culture. I'm an outsider to it. My information comes from books, news, discussions with people, and yes, even movies, but not any actual experiences.

Lately I've been thinking about this sort of cultural/historical/religious ignorance that I have as a non-Indian viewer, and how much I should make the effort to mend the gaps. I mean, I'm obviously beyond asking questions like, "Why do they touch their parents' feet?" or "Why does that bearded man wear a turban?", and I know a thing or two about history and religions and customs and the variety that is Indian culture. But when it comes to a country so complex, you can never know enough. Should I make more of an effort to find out, though?

I am avoiding using the pronoun "we" even though I feel like a lot of non-Indian fans of these films probably have moments when they feel the same. It's always weird to learn through movies. Not in the sense that you think whatever a movie portrays is reality, but to be inspired to find out what actually happened and what the movie did differently, or what circumstances made the movie as it is. I learnt about Tamil Nadu politics because Mani Ratnam made Iruvar. I learnt about the 90's riots through Black Friday. This kind of thing.

On the other hand, I know information rarely sinks in unless it has a framework to work into. It's very hard to take in new information unless you have existing information. I remember reading a big book on Indian culture and I honestly don't remember a thing about it, because when I read it, I had very little knowledge of India in general, and the framework to connect all of that new information wasn't there. I think when the active interest is there, whether it's built by interest in culture or interest in films or whatever, then you can build the framework, and little by little adding to it, whether it's information about cultural traditions, religion, different regions, language..

It goes without saying education in most "Western" countries does not spare many thoughts on the history of India, or Asia in general. I've never been a history buff, either, even though I got good grades in it. My interest was always in how people lived, not leaders and wars and dates. It took an interest in movies to figure out blindingly basic facts about the country; it's really quite embarrassing.

But still, you might point out, we don't learn the entire of French history to watch Amelie. We don't need to understand how the US Senate works to enjoy Star Wars. Sure, true enough. But I think it adds something, if only a lessened possibility of misunderstanding, or a sense of better understanding, or a more critical viewpoint, or whatever you like. I don't think we should stay wholly ignorant, even if the films are "just" entertainment. Because once you have that fledgling interest, it's easier to build on that than somebody who doesn't necessarily give a damn, but learns something just to learn it. They might remember those facts they've picked up, might even connect it to some other information they have, but it's different from somebody who not only wants to learn, but has a goal attached: better understanding, even if ultimate understanding always escapes us (because one can never really learn everything there is to know about a culture, any culture).

What do you guys think (whether you're desi or not)? Am I once again over-analyzing this? :)

Striker - disjointed thoughts on the film and online distribution.

(Since the film is so readily available for most of the readership of this blog, this review will contain spoilers.)

I don't have a lot of thoughts on Striker and whatever I have is pretty disjointed and weird. I feel the need to mention the great revolution behind the YouTube release and how I hope smaller Indian films will continue to do this for the benefit of us foreign watchers. I'm not sure how much money the Indian film related blogosphere generates in terms of buzz that makes people go see films, but I'm sure it increases awareness of the film in general (possibly for the festival circuit?) and hey, at least us bloggers get to watch it around the same time and therefore chat about it without the usual DVD release delay.

I also wouldn't object to companies putting past hits on YouTube, like Rajshri have done, for example. The way I see, it'll probably decrease piracy. I mean, if your choices are buying HAHK, downloading it or watching the film on YouTube, surely the last one is the best option, as it's free, legal and not any hassle? If you really like it, you can and probably will buy the DVD.

So yes, it's a good way to catch new fans who otherwise wouldn't have run into your movie, and I'm hoping Rajshri's and Studio18's testing of this method has proven beneficial. I guess only time will in the case of Striker.

But onto discussing the film as a film; it's adequate. What a dreadful word to use about such an enormous effort, but there you have it. It's technically a well-made movie. The cinematography, the music, the lightning, the art design ... everything seems considered and skillfully done. The acting is solid all around. Late 80's and early 90's Mumbai/Bombay looks and feels just that.

The plot doesn't really drag, or anything, it's nicely engaging, though not necessarily on an emotional level. It's not too complex, but there are moments where it rushes ahead and I'm sitting there going, "Wait, what?". The way the carrom game ties into the plot is somewhat peculiar. The thing is, Striker's never a sports movie, or even a gambling movie, as much as it's a story of a kid dealing with underground hasslings (and the game is a part of that) and getting severely burnt by it. I understand it's based on a true story, but as a whole it seems to lack a clear narrative.

What makes the slight wobbliness of the story as a whole really come through is the last 15 minutes or so, which shows us Siddharth's character Surya suffer a couple of utter breakdowns, one of them which results in his raping who is to become his wife five minutes later, and later a breakdown results in him violently murdering the villain, which seems like an extreme and slightly out of character thing to do. Minai's review talked about the rape scene, and there's plenty of chatter about it elsewhere. Suffice to say I agree with a lot of others; it's a terrible scene that ruins a character, and it's pretty unnecessary considering the whole of the plot, too.

I guess the worst thing about Striker is that I'm really sort neither here nor there about it. I don't feel very angry or incredibly disappointed; neither am I full of love and anticipating a rewatch of it. As a Siddharth fan I am glad he did something different for once, and broke the daisy-chain of romantic hero characters he's been doing for a small eternity. I just hope his next serious role pick is a little better.

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(Unrelated, realized I can't use 00s tag for new movies anymore. So break out the weird-looking "10s" tag!)

Fashion and a bit about Madhur Bhandarkar in general.

Beware: lots of major spoilers in this review, and very, very, very ranting.


Fashion was just this exercise in annoyance. I really liked the film at first. It wasn't perfect, it was predictable, but it was fun to watch, fashion escapism with a bit of a real edge to it, and a cast of characters I wasn't emotionally attached to but didn't mind watching, either. Then the plot took some turns and I was still watching it keenly, just noticing that I preferred the storylines of Janet (Mugdha Godse) and Shonali (Kangana Raut) to that of Meghna (Priyanka Chopra), our main character with the dream of becoming a super model.

As Meghna makes her dream into reality, the predictable thing happens: her success goes to her head in a massive way, she becomes a relentless bitch, an annoying diva, who snaps at everybody, is mean to everybody, and doesn't even notice how her behavior affects those around her. Eventually she gets on the path of substance abuse, just like her predecessor super-model Shonali, and hits rock bottom.

This is where the film really goes off the rails. If Meghna is an unlikable character for me but the film has more to offer than her storyline, as it at first seemed to, I'm game, but eventually the film becomes all about Meghna and I'm expected to care about her, when she essentially ruined her life with her own choices and poor consideration. Add to that the blatant racism of the scene where she realizes she hit rock bottom after sleeping with a black guy. Because the fact your boss essentially gave you the boot, your friends more or less all deserted you, your alcoholism, and then taking drugs, that's not enough to make you realize you may have deeply messed up your life. No, it's a one night stand with a black guy. Oh the horror! (Not to mention the implication that she wouldn't have had sex with him if it hadn't been for the drugs. Gah, just typing this makes me angry.)

Then the film fuses the storylines of Shonali and Meghna and this is where I tune in again, but of course, Shonali's messed up life is disposed of to make way for Meghna's self-actualization, so that she can shine again or whatever the hell.

Beth had a lot of good points in her Fashion rant, and one of them was regarding that we never find out why Meghna wants to become a super-model. I'd add to that a flaw that makes Fashion a weird one; it can be seen as a shockingly realistic expose on the drugs, the sex, the casting couch, the corruption of the fashion world, but at the same time, Meghna's "salvation" can only come from her getting back on the runway, the one thing that essentially destroyed her. It also annoys me that everybody encourages her to do so - the world that she first desired, then burned herself in, is the one she needs to become complete in some kind of twisted way. Stardom as a model is what we see her accomplish, even though the whole point of the film was to hammer in the message that this world is cruel and Meghna didn't know how to handle it, and neither did Shonali. Except now, at the end of the film, she's fierce and she can handle it? But what did she learn, in the end? Don't do drugs? Don't sleep with black guys? God, the writing is supposedly thought-through but has all these glaring mistakes.

I know this genre Madhur Bhandarkar enjoys delving in - the genre that takes an idealist person who wants to achieve something big in a world most of us find interesting and glamorous and read about, and then shoves that person into that world, as they climb the social ladder that gets them there. The person goes through a transformation, and that transformation alienates them from their friends, family, their old comfortable ordinary life, essentially. But as glamorous and amazing as their new life is, they quickly see how shallow and awful and cruel and corrupt and full of bad people it is. It might also be stressful and all these other things that lead them to having an utter breakdown, and that breakdown makes them go back to their roots; where they began and then they discover that partner that dumped them, and those friends, and that family, and that knitting club and a big mug of tea every morning; the ordinary, comfortable life. Eventually the person goes onto do something else; something that makes them whole but keeps them away from the world they visited and now know to be bad. "Many cakes are pretty on the outside", goes a Finnish proverb, reminding us that appearances are indeed deceiving.

It's an age-old tale. And you know what? It's one I can enjoy. One of my favourite chicklit novels is Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger, which has a plotline essentially what I just described. Predictable, unoriginal? Yes. Satisfying read on a rainy day? Absolutely.

The problem with Fashion is that it doesn't do the twist where the breakdown is followed by self-actualization in the comfortable middle-class life Meghna used to have, with friends and whatnot. Meghna just freezes while time continues around her. She can't live if she's on that catwalk. But geez, that catwalk wasn't very good to her! And I never understood why she needed the catwalk for her self-actualization anyway.

The journey to a glamorous but rotten world can result in a fairly life-affirming story (in the sense that the viewer feels their own ordinary lives may be drab and they don't do Jimmy Choo photoshoots, but at the same time they've got a nice family, their job is less high pressure, they can eat big meals etc) while still being realistic and tackling some real issues, like casting couch, drug abuse etc. But Fashion is predictable without following the trope to its satisfying ending, and it also focuses on its least interesting character (I vastly preferred storylines of Shonali and Janet).

There was some good stuff in there, too; I seriously wasn't very annoyed until the coke-snorting and black-dude-morning-after scenes, but overall, the movie sort of undoes itself by the end. I just couldn't enjoy the ride anymore.

---

But about Madhur Bhandarkar some more. I've only seen Page 3 and now Fashion, and both of those stories had some similarities, in that they're exposés that reveal the underbellies of celebrity and fashion industry. These sort of stories are pretty old in American/European entertainment, I feel. We all grew up watching them, and learning that celebrity is a double-edged sword and all is not as great as it seems and people in places that focus on appearance are superficial up to a fault and all this sort of stuff. So it feels kind of dull to watch these stories in an Indian context. I don't follow gossip much. I don't want to rub elbows with celebrities. I mean, I wouldn't mind meeting a few stars, but I'm not focusing all my energy on such a goal because I know it probably wouldn't be worth it, struggling to get into that world.

It's tough to evaluate these stories, because of how old they feel to me, but how new they might be in an Indian context, to the audiences who might mostly have seen the dream factory stuff. Are these stories worth telling? It's not really up to me to decide, certainly, but I still feel like Bhandarkar could draw something new out of this formula. A lot of the disappointment just comes from the hype surrounding these movies, especially Page 3. I mean, it was okay. It didn't make any favourite lists for me, though.

Something I told Beth in chat, while processing my thoughts on P3 and Fashion, was that essentially I saw an old Hollywood story formula in Rock On, too. And yet, I loved that movie to bits and enjoyed its simplicity and purity. It felt like a new story was being told in the Indian context where rockbands do not reign supreme, and I could appreciate it, and felt it would be good if it were to increase awareness of the country's underground rock scene. Perhaps the difference between this formula and that of the exposé films was that Rock On brought on the positive vibes and celebrated a world while showing its rough edges (the dicky record label guy, the pressure to sell out). These exposés rarely do. So I guess in the end what makes me so unenthusiastic about them is not the "what", it's the "how".

---

I also keep thinking about how I'd written Meghna's ending. I might've kept the fashion world as a terms of self-actualization but changed the setting. Perhaps she writes an exposé on the world, and finds her true calling as an investigative journalist. Perhaps she goes into fashion design herself. Perhaps she begins coaching new models to put her posing skills and her experience into good use to make sure other models don't mess up like she did. One thing the film completely ignored about the world of modelling is the short career models have. You start at sixteen, you retire at 27. What then? You do what Meghna did and spend two of your work years messing up your life and then building it back up, your career's going to be over in a few years. Of course, there were plenty of other realism mess-ups but you know, if this film actually inspired some people to go into modeling, they're gonna learn about some actual realities of that world pretty soon. And that learning's going to be more harsh than Meghna's downfall.

A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away.

...Uday Chopra tweets about Star Wars.

Goodnight Twitter-chlorians...may the force be with you...

I am blown away by the sheer twit of that pun. (See what I did there?) No, wait --

...for those who didn't get it...Twitter-chlorians was a reference to midi-chlorians...ya I know most of u still may not get it

Dude, we got it. Second of all, midichlorians are microorganisms in all living things. So essentially you compared the almighty Twitterati to cell chemistry. WTF's that all about? I should have your imaginary French mother slap you for that! Non?

But if I was to take this line of thinking further than Uday is even capable of, he's basically suggesting that we're not living things as such, we're just a part of other living organisms, just like a ribosome or something. Ribosomes are important, but they can't, you know, speak, vote, tweet or go see Uday Chopra films in theaters. Or maybe, as midichlorians, what is important is the count of them - so what is important to Uday is not that people are interacting with each other on Twitter, but that they're following him and adding to his follower count.

I guess what I'm saying is follow Yoda, not Uday Chopra on Twitter.

@juniorbachchan "Young Jedi"!!!? I'm a Master Jedi...show some respect!!!

It's "Jedi master", not "master Jedi". Also, if Bollywood was a Jedi academy, you would be one of those foot-tall younglings, not Mace Windu sitting comfortably in the council. Let's be real here.

..I'm going to the planet Hoth in the Hoth System...it's freezing there

Now we know how the Imperial troops find out about the rebels staying in Hoth. I'm not usually a fan of revisionist history but Let's Blame Uday Chopra For Everything is my kind of theorizing.

Landing on the icy planet of Hoth...training young paduans today

PADAWANS. Pa-da-wans. And may the Force be with those poor padawans, to face such trials at a young age.

Morning all...thought for today..."Build your foundations with the stones thrown at you"...have an awesome day y'all

Uday's going to have some house, I can tell you that much. And I'm glad to have helped him out.

Kyyhkyläiset - the lovebirds. Maine Pyaar Kiya.

Voi väärin perustein tuomittu kahdeksankymmentäluku. Olihan sinullakin hetkesi. Kun ensimmäisen kerran kahlasin tämän klassisen melodramaattisen sokerihötön läpi, oli keskiyö ja viittä vaille syntymäpäiväni. Muistaakseni imeskelin piparminttukarkkeja ja kylvin Maine Pyaar Kiya:n (1989, suomeksi "Rakastuin..") juhlaisassa kasarimeiningissä aamukolmeen asti. Joskus hyviin synttäribileisiin tarvitaan vain itse sankari ja paidaton Salman Khan. [Oh the 80's, so mistakenly judged. You too had your moments. When I first waded through this classic, melodramatic sugarfluff, it was midnight and some minutes before my birthday. If I recall correctly, I was sucking on peppermint candy and bathing in the festive 80's happenings of Maine Pyaar Kiya (1989, trans: I fell in love..). Sometimes in order to have a great birthday bash all you need is the celebrant themself and a shirtless Salman Khan.]

Elokuva alkaa epäluontevasti suomennettavalla lauseella, "Jokainen rakastuu johonkuhun ... jotenkin ..." mutta on mietteen epämääräisyydestä huolimatta myönnettävä, että näinhän se on. Porukka rakastuu. Suman (Bhagyashree elämänsä roolissa, koska raukka ei oikein muuta tullut tehneeksi valkokankaalla) pääsee viettämään aikaa köyhän isänsä ystävän luona, ja eikös ystävysty itsekin perheen pojan Premin (nuori Salman Khan!) kanssa. Prem on tietty kaikkien yleisten sääntöjen mukaan siisti, moderni jätkä, ja Suman hieman perinteisemmin kasvatettu tyttö. Ken arvaa mitä tapahtuu seuraavaksi? [The film begins with a sentence very awkwardly translated into Finnish, but despite its vagueness, it's a true enough statement. People fall in love. Suman (Bhagyashree in the role of her life, since the poor thing didn't really get up to much more on the silver screen) gets to spend time with the friend of her poor father, and happens to befriend Prem (young Salman Khan!), the son of the family herself. Prem is of course, according to all conventions, a cool, modern dude, and Suman a little more traditionally raised girl. Who can guess what happens next?]

Ystävyydessä ei legendaarisen lausuman mukaan ole anteeksipyytelyä tai kiittelyä. Näin filosofisista pohdinnoista päästään tietty raiskaajapahiksen (Mohnish Behl) julmaan yleistykseen, etteivät tytöt ja pojat voi ikinä olla vain ystäviä keskenään, vaan jotain makuuhuonemenoa on pakko olla (ja miksi ketään kiinnostaa tän äijän näkemykset maailman asioista? se ampuu kyyhkysiä huvikseen ja raiskaa muijia bileissä! oikeesti, hei!). Premia ja Sumania nolottaa lievästi, koska eroottisin asia mitä he ovat tähän mennessä puuhailleet on jonkun voiteen levittäminen kipeälle nilkalle. Niinpä Prem päättää lähteä pois (tai jotain) ja Suman joutuu halailemaan kyyhkystä noin kuuden minuutin laulun verran. [In friendship, according to the legendary saying, there is no saying sorry or thank you. From these philosophical musings we come to the cruel generalization of the baddie-rapist (Mohnish Behl), that girls and boys can never be friends with one another, there's always something in the bedroom department (and why does anybody care what this guy thinks about matters of the world? he shoots pidgeons for fun and rapes girls at parties! really, now!). Prem and Suman are pretty embarrassed, because the most erotic thing they've done so far is spreading some cream on a hurt ankle. So Prem decides to go away (or something) and Suman has to embrace a pidgeon for one six minute long song.]

No ei nyt sentään. Kyyhkyskaveri tietty lähtee pois, vie kirjeen ja rakastetut löytävät hetkellisen onnen (2-3 laulun ajaksi), kunnes pahikset syyttävät Sumania onnenonkijaksi ja hänen on palattava isänsä luo. Isä tuntee itsensä häväistyksi (jaahas), Prem ilmestyy paikalle todistelemaan rakkauttaan, ja jo tunnin kuluttua elokuva loppuukin mukavasti. [Well, not really. Pidgeonbuddy naturally goes away, delivers the letter and the lovebirds find momentary happiness (for the duration of 2-3 songs), until the baddies accuse Suman of being a gold-digger and she has to return to her father. Father feels dishonored (righto), Prem appears to prove his love, and in an hour's time already the movie ends nicely.]

Voisin tiivistellä juonta enemmänkin mutta on painavampia asioita käsiteltävänä! Kuten... [I could sum up the plot some more but there are things of more imporance to go through. Such as...]

Paidaton Salman! (Aika helmi kollaasi tuolla seinällä. Sisustusprojekti!) [Shirtless Salman! (What a gem of a collage on that wall. Home deco project!]

Hikipannat! [Sweatbands!]

Pidän MPK:sta oikeasti tosi paljon. Se on ainoa Rajshri -elokuva, jossa perinteisiä perhearvoja ei tuomiteta aivoihin sähkövasaran avulla, vaan annetaan nuorten hahmojen rakkaustarinan voittaa puolelleen ja sitten revitään heitä melodramaattisesti erilleen juuri sopivasti. Suman on ehdottomasti perinteinen naishahmo, jolle siveys on kaikki kaikessa, ja vanhempien kunnioitus, uskonnollisuus ja muut tähän hahmotyyppiin kuuluvat piirteet ovat selkärangassa, ja pahikset ja hyvikset tunnistaa juuri näiden arvojen kautta. Pahis on länsimaalaistunut, joka juo ja polttaa ja on tuo itseään ilmiselvästi seksuaalisesti esiin. Hyvis, varsinkin naispuolinen sellainen, on seksuaalisesti pidättyväinen; he ovat äitejä ja siveitä tyttäriä. [I genuinely like MPK a lot. It's the only Rajshri movie where the traditional family values aren't delivered to your brain using an electric hammer, but the love story of the young characters wins you over and then the lovers are torn apart melodramatically, just the right amount. Suman is definitely a traditional type of female character, to whom chastity is everything and respecting elders, piety and other traits of this archetype are in her backbone, and bad guys and the good guys can be recognized clearly through these values. The baddie is westernized, who drinks and smokes and blatantly brings our their sexuality. The goody, especially female such, is sexually demure; they are mothers and chaste daughters.]

Voisi kuvitella, että näin ollen rakkauden lihallinen puoli loistaisi poissaolollaan, mutta tässä kohdin vähemmän hienovarainen symboliikka astuu kuvaan. Koko ajan Prem hiplaa Sumanin kasvoja jollain esineellä kuin Mughal-e-Azamissa ikään, oli esine sitten kukka tai jääpala. Toisella katselukerralla oikein yllätyin tästä elokuvan puolesta. [You would think that because of this, the carnal side of love would be non-existant but in this instance, not-so-subtle symbolism steps into frame. Most of the time Prem is feeling Suman's face up with some object like this is Mughal-e-Azam, whether the object in question is a flower or an ice cube. On the second viewing I was quite surprised by this aspect of the film.]

Hyvin mielenkiintoinen on myös kohta, jossa Suman omaksuu rakastuneen naisen identiteetin pukeutumalla sariin ja päästämällä pitkät kutrinsa avoimeksi hiusmassaksi. Se kuvaa yhtä lailla kasvamista tytöstä naiseksi kuin myös valmistautumista vaimon rooliin, joka on tietysti myös seksuaalinen. [The bit where Suman assumes the identity of a woman in love by wearing a sari and letting her hair loose into a mass of hair against her back, is also very interesting. It depicts growing up from a girl to a woman as well as preparing for the role of the wife, which is of course also sexual.]

Toisaalta saatan vain olla jonkinlaisessa häiriintyneessä hormonitilassa. Puolustukseni on sanottava, että kemia pääosien esittäjien välillä yksinkertaisesti toimii. Sinänsä vain hyvä, että elokuva jäi Bhagyashreen ja Salmanin ainoaksi yhteiseksi; harvinainen yhdistelmä jää ansaitusti legendaariseksi. [Of course this could just be me in some sort of disturbed hormonal state. In my defence I have to say that the chemistry between the leads simply works. It's actually kind of good that the movie was the only one they did together; the rare combination remains a deservedly legendary one.]

En kyllä voi edes teeskennellä, ettei koko elokuvan ajan ajatuksieni kaava mennyt jotenkin näin: nuori Salman! Salman nuorena! nuori! Salman! Salluuuu! nallekarhujen keskellä! tanssimassa suht kehnosti! nuori Salman! Salmaaaan! [I can't, however, pretend that the pattern of my thoughts during the whole movie wasn't something like this: young Salman! Salman as a young man! young! Salman! Salluuuu! among teddy bears! dancing somewhat badly! young Salman! Salmaaan!]

Mutta mitään pahaa ei voi sanoa Bhagyashreestä, päinvastoin. Sievä näyttelijätär, jolla on upea hymy, söpön pieni ääni. Hänellä olisi ollut täydellinen potentiaali tulla Juhi Chawlaksi Juhi Chawlan paikalle; näyttelijätär, joka valaisee valkokankaan pelkällä läsnäolollaan. [But nothing bad can be said about Bhagyashree, quite the opposite. Pretty actress, who has a gorgeous smile and a cutely small voice. She had the perfect potential to become the Juhi Chawla to replace Juhi Chawla; an actress who lights up the screen just by being on it.]

Musiikki on totta kai loistavaa, alkaen ensimmäisestä biisistä, joka mainostaa "ystävyyden vuodenaikaa" ja katolla tanssittavasta Final Countdown-kopiosta, unohtamatta antakshari-kohtausta, sekä "Dil deewana"-biisin kaikkia muotoja. Kaikki liikehdintä on aika kasaria, mutta osittain aivan täydellisellä tavalla. Aivan ikimuistoinen hetki on Salmanin tanssahtelu vakavana temppelin edessä, pyytämässä jumalalta jotain apua rakkauden puolustamiseen. Loistavaa. [The music is of course brilliant, starting from the first song that advertises the "season of friendship" and the roof top dance number that rips off Final Countdown, not to forget the antakshari-scene or all forms of Dil deewana. All the choreography is pretty 80's, but partly in a perfect way. One unforgettable moment is Salman's dancing seriously outside a temple, asking god for some help to defend his love. Brilliant.]

Joku mystinen hienous tässä elokuvassa on. Sinänsä koko teos on vanhasta puusta veistetty mutta samalla tulee selvästi tunne, että jotkut aineksista ovat oikeastaan muodostuneet kliseiksi vasta reilusti tämän elokuvan jälkeen. Kasarinaurettavuuskin on omalla tavallaan täydellistä viihdettä, nuoret näyttelijät toimivat pääosissa, musiikki on hyvää, vaatetuskaan ei oikeastaan ole niin kamalaa, eikä edes kolmen tunnin pituus puuduta niin paljon kuin mitä voisi olettaa. [This film has some mystic greatness to it. In a way the whole work is carved out of old wood but at the same time you get a distinct feeling that some of the ingredients have actually formed as cliches only after this film. The 80s cheese is in its own way perfect entertainment, the young actors work in the leads, the music is good, the fashion's not that bad, and even the 3 hour length isn't as numbing as one might think.]

Tietysti on ihan täysin makuasia, kiinnostaako paidattoman Salmanin uran alku, hattaramainen rakkaustarina melodramaattisilla höysteillä ja uppoaako katolla tuulikoneen kanssa pelehtiminen alkuunkaan. Omalla kohdallani on pakko vastata, että kyllä, kyllä, ja totta helvetissä. Ainakin tietyssä mielentilassa. [Of course it's entirely a matter of taste whether you're interested in the beginnings of shirtless Salman, the fluffy love story with melodramatic trimmings and whether fooling on the roof with a wind machine is your thing in the least. Myself I have to answer, yes yes and hell yes. At least when the mood strikes.]

PS.

Nuori Salman! [Young Salman!]


***

Woot, my first bilingual review. God this is all over the place, I'm glad most of you don't know Finnish. The translations are pretty hastily done because it's getting late and I just wanted to get this friggin' done. It's tough for me to review movies in Finnish, I noticed. My style is a little bit of this and that in Finnish, I can't quite work out whether I should write casual or more formal or tongue-in-cheek or more serious-like, and I can't quite work out my stylistic choices like I can in English. Goddammit. I suck at my own mother language.

Oh well. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks to everybody who voted on the poll. MPK won 50% of the votes, hence the pick.

Fun fact: "kyyhkyläiset" (trans: lovebirds) comes from the word "kyyhky" meaning pidgeon. Kabutar ja ja ja! :)

Another fun fact: I couldn't find an English trans to Finnish "syntymäpäiväsankari" (birthday hero, ie. whose birthday is celebrated). Hence why the end of the first paragraph is kinda awkward.