Sunday, March 6, 2011
Dreaming in Patiala House
There was a time when Hindi movies began with titles coming up in English, Hindi and Urdu, nowadays they are mostly meant to be read by people familiar with the English alphabet. But Patiala House goes back to the good old days, and that's not the only pleasant surprise it had in store for me. Nikhil Advani strikes back, and how! He makes a movie which while easy to dismiss as just another big budget mainstream Hindi film with songs and dances is a lot more than that. A movie has 'something' if it brings lumps in your throat, and controls your heartbeat and breathing easily. Among other things Patiala House reminds us that even life saving medicines come with expiry dates, after which they turn into poison, and this is especially true about various long-past-expiry-date "this is the propah way to live" systems that at best poison humanity at the grassroots level. Finally, when formula works, nothing can beat it, great dialogues, amazing Akshay, wow Anushka Sharma and awesome Rishi Kapoor backed by a uniformly excellent supporting cast. Patiala House made my Sunday.
The life and husbands of Susanna
It takes a lot to shake up my cinema jaded senses... Vishal Bhardawaj has been able to do that with every movie of his including Saat Khoon Maaf, few filmmakers, whether its Ashutosh Gowariker, Farhan Akthar or Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, who initially showed brilliance have continued to push the envelope like Mr. Bhardawaj. Though I felt '7 Khoon' got a little tired in the last 15 minutes or so but, what a movie! what a deliciously detailed, wonderfully bizarre movie!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Chitti Chitti Bang Bang
Ideally Robot should have been made in the 80s (at probably 1/100th of its present budget), with less songs and many more punchy dialogues and thumpier scenes. Then it would have been ideal stuff for some pleasantly nostalgic viewings on lazy Sunday afternoons in Set Max/Star Gold/Zee Cinema. Coming as it is, in 2010, it's fun (the first half sprightlier than the second which is frequently shot down by unwelcome songs) but could have used some quality creative imagination on the script level to produce several 'aha' moments, rather than bludgeon the viewers with the combined might of lucre and technology (abundance of resources at disposal tends to blunt creativity, read that somewhere and have over the years found many reasons to believe it) I have a feeling that director Shankar is the kumbh-ke-mele-mein-khoya-hua-bhai of Michael Bay. Yeah, yeah I did not enter the theater expecting subtle and classy cinema. But hey I did not even come across a satisfying number of hoot-worthy scenes like I did in Hindustani or Pokkiri (the frame-by-frame remake 'Wanted' had a wickeder atmosphere and hence methinks it was a definite improvement but that's another story).
Maybe its a cultural remove at work but the intentionally comic scenes in films from South usually turn me off, Robot is no exception (for that that matter the humor present in the Japanese films of Akira Kurosawa also make me cringe; call me racist if you will, which was what a reader called Mayank Shekhar after reading his less-than-enthusiastic review of this film in Hindustan Times). Coming back to those idle Sunday afternoons, if I have a choice between Nagarjuna's Meri Jung 'The One Man Army' and Robot, I would go for the former for my 'paisa vasool' entertainment.
Maybe its a cultural remove at work but the intentionally comic scenes in films from South usually turn me off, Robot is no exception (for that that matter the humor present in the Japanese films of Akira Kurosawa also make me cringe; call me racist if you will, which was what a reader called Mayank Shekhar after reading his less-than-enthusiastic review of this film in Hindustan Times). Coming back to those idle Sunday afternoons, if I have a choice between Nagarjuna's Meri Jung 'The One Man Army' and Robot, I would go for the former for my 'paisa vasool' entertainment.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Kites - The twain should ne'er had met...
Old Guard (Rakesh "Krrish" Roshan) meets new New Guard (Anurag "Metro" Basu) and we get a neither here, nor anywhere, "Kites". It seems they were writing the screenplay as they spotted various "beautifully framable locations".
Conclusions:
1. The twain should ne'er had met.
2. If you are in love with creating/seeing beautiful frames, become a painter/go to art exhibitions dammit!
3. Anurag Basu should stick to making his kind of movies.
4. Rakesh Roshan, an earlier favorite seems to have gone the Subhash Ghai way! Retirement time?
5. Hrithik Roshan should do something about himself because with his stock dancing style and limited vocal/facial expressions, he neither has the ammo to see through as an actor in the long run, or even as a choreographer. What a waste of an otherwise awesome personality!
LOL dialogue - You have a dream, I have a dream, now both of us have a bigger dream.
Recommended watch for the 88% western critics who gave it a thumbs-up - Bunty aur Babli.
Conclusions:
1. The twain should ne'er had met.
2. If you are in love with creating/seeing beautiful frames, become a painter/go to art exhibitions dammit!
3. Anurag Basu should stick to making his kind of movies.
4. Rakesh Roshan, an earlier favorite seems to have gone the Subhash Ghai way! Retirement time?
5. Hrithik Roshan should do something about himself because with his stock dancing style and limited vocal/facial expressions, he neither has the ammo to see through as an actor in the long run, or even as a choreographer. What a waste of an otherwise awesome personality!
LOL dialogue - You have a dream, I have a dream, now both of us have a bigger dream.
Recommended watch for the 88% western critics who gave it a thumbs-up - Bunty aur Babli.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Amazing World Of Comics
Last week when I was going home after my fortnightly (weekly, when I am lucky) jaunts to college street, I was asked by a man sitting beside me in an auto-rickshaw,”You still read that stuff?” He had a smug, sneering look painted on his face, and pointed towards the bunch of superman and batman comics in my hand… somehow he missed Ray Bradbury’s “Golden Apples of the Sun”.
“Yes I do”. I shot back, countering his smugness with my best deadpan expression. We didn’t speak through the rest of the 15 minutes journey. But that encounter has visited my thoughts a few times over the last week. It amuses me. So many people associate comics with dumbed down entertainment meant for kiddos. The same people watch the mostly inane entertainment offered by the multiplexes and scores of television channels with relish. The more serious ones prefer to watch the distasteful black comedy presented by the news channels 24/7. Many of these people did read comic books as kids. Maybe they did not stay long enough. Because that’s the beauty of comics, the pleasure a regular issue of Batman can offer to a 10 year old would be quite different from that which is felt by a 30 year old.
Comics, like movies and television series are simply a tool for telling stories. They can be as intelligent or as dumb as the other two. The problem is that most people associate them with superheroes who wear their underwear outside. That’s true. But that’s just a part of the whole truth. One needs to read comics in order to pass a judgment. Though I am far from an expert on the topic, I have my reasons for respecting comics. I was hooked on to them before I knew how to read. My father’s collections of Tintin and Phantom comics were something I treasured, and initially tried to decipher by studying the frames, and making my own stories. Sometimes my uncle used to help me out by reading them out to me. Then I learnt to read them myself and there has been no looking back. I have covered a wide range of Indian and foreign comics from my initial heroes Superman, Phantom and Tintin to Chacha Chaudhary, Nagraj, Super Commando Dhruv to my current favorites, Batman, Wolverine, Captain Haddock and Phantom, again.
Comics have given me more than hundreds of hours of pleasure. They have given me the tag of a bibliophile; they instilled in me a reasonably good taste for the visual arts. And they initiated me into the world of books. They have given me my career. If not for them, I probably wouldn’t have been a writer.
And for those who believe that comics are dumb. Let them know that X-Men is actually about xenophobia and racism that has plagued the world since the dawn of mankind and it tackles the issue much more effectively than any moral science lesson. Spiderman is about standing by your ethics in a world which is increasingly ungrateful and insane, and Batman is about the futility and tragedy of aimless destruction. In other words, it is about terrorism. Check out “The Dark Knight”, which came out this year. It is one of the most explicit films about terrorism made till date. It centered on an enemy for whom destruction was an an end unto itself. Today terrorists are mauling the world, apparently for some cause, which does not convince us. But once they did have a cause. Bhagat Singh had a cause when he hurled that bomb. He was a terrorist for our erstwhile rulers. But he was driven by a cause worthy of great respect. However, over the years spectacular destruction has overshadowed any “cause”. When we think about the twin towers crashing to the earth, no cause comes to our mind. “The Dark Knight” Is a movie that has foreseen the times we are headed towards. The terror attacks at the Taj Hotel in Mumbai were quite like the Joker’s onslaughts on Gotham City. It had no purpose, other than creating death, destruction and chaos.
All comics are not necessarily dark and grim like the above. There are Tintin’s delightful adventures and of course good old Asterix. I never tire of rereading them. A good comic is as good as any other piece of artistic entertainment; it entertains and educates, and leaves the reader a little bit wiser.
“Yes I do”. I shot back, countering his smugness with my best deadpan expression. We didn’t speak through the rest of the 15 minutes journey. But that encounter has visited my thoughts a few times over the last week. It amuses me. So many people associate comics with dumbed down entertainment meant for kiddos. The same people watch the mostly inane entertainment offered by the multiplexes and scores of television channels with relish. The more serious ones prefer to watch the distasteful black comedy presented by the news channels 24/7. Many of these people did read comic books as kids. Maybe they did not stay long enough. Because that’s the beauty of comics, the pleasure a regular issue of Batman can offer to a 10 year old would be quite different from that which is felt by a 30 year old.
Comics, like movies and television series are simply a tool for telling stories. They can be as intelligent or as dumb as the other two. The problem is that most people associate them with superheroes who wear their underwear outside. That’s true. But that’s just a part of the whole truth. One needs to read comics in order to pass a judgment. Though I am far from an expert on the topic, I have my reasons for respecting comics. I was hooked on to them before I knew how to read. My father’s collections of Tintin and Phantom comics were something I treasured, and initially tried to decipher by studying the frames, and making my own stories. Sometimes my uncle used to help me out by reading them out to me. Then I learnt to read them myself and there has been no looking back. I have covered a wide range of Indian and foreign comics from my initial heroes Superman, Phantom and Tintin to Chacha Chaudhary, Nagraj, Super Commando Dhruv to my current favorites, Batman, Wolverine, Captain Haddock and Phantom, again.
Comics have given me more than hundreds of hours of pleasure. They have given me the tag of a bibliophile; they instilled in me a reasonably good taste for the visual arts. And they initiated me into the world of books. They have given me my career. If not for them, I probably wouldn’t have been a writer.
And for those who believe that comics are dumb. Let them know that X-Men is actually about xenophobia and racism that has plagued the world since the dawn of mankind and it tackles the issue much more effectively than any moral science lesson. Spiderman is about standing by your ethics in a world which is increasingly ungrateful and insane, and Batman is about the futility and tragedy of aimless destruction. In other words, it is about terrorism. Check out “The Dark Knight”, which came out this year. It is one of the most explicit films about terrorism made till date. It centered on an enemy for whom destruction was an an end unto itself. Today terrorists are mauling the world, apparently for some cause, which does not convince us. But once they did have a cause. Bhagat Singh had a cause when he hurled that bomb. He was a terrorist for our erstwhile rulers. But he was driven by a cause worthy of great respect. However, over the years spectacular destruction has overshadowed any “cause”. When we think about the twin towers crashing to the earth, no cause comes to our mind. “The Dark Knight” Is a movie that has foreseen the times we are headed towards. The terror attacks at the Taj Hotel in Mumbai were quite like the Joker’s onslaughts on Gotham City. It had no purpose, other than creating death, destruction and chaos.
All comics are not necessarily dark and grim like the above. There are Tintin’s delightful adventures and of course good old Asterix. I never tire of rereading them. A good comic is as good as any other piece of artistic entertainment; it entertains and educates, and leaves the reader a little bit wiser.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Suspend Your Disbelief!
The fag end of the year…
Two of the most hotly anticipated movies…
Two of the biggest stars of Hindi cinema…
Two men on the wrong side of forty, romancing girls young enough to be their daughters…
Two logic defying plots…
Two certified super hits…
Welcome to the world of blockbusters, Bombay ishtyle!
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Ghajini. Two of the most hotly anticipated movies of 2008, came a couple of weeks apart. Yours truly did not have much hope from both movies, going by the impression formed by their promos and whatever was known about their storylines, but somehow ended up watching both. And the movies fell mostly along the lines of my expectations.
I expected Rab Ne… to be typical diabetes inducing Yash Raj Films yawnfest. Well, it was saccharine sweet, it was boring, yes. And unlike a typical Yash Raj picture, it did not have memorable songs. But the departure that this movie made from the Yash Raj tradition, were in terms of its characters and setting, and that was what clinched the deal for me. Surinder Sahni, the character played by Shahrukh Khan reminded me of Amol Palekar in those wonderful films made by Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee when they were at their creative peak. Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was itself like a “primed up for NextGen” version of Choti Si Baat and to a lesser extent Golmaal. It was heartening to see characters wearing clothes worn by you and me. The protagonist commuting on a scooter like many of you dear readers might have seen your fathers and uncles do. The movie in fact had quite a few similarities with Choti Si Baat. Both had endearingly simple central characters who just couldn’t get around to winning their lady loves. Help for Amol Palekar came in the form of Ashok Kumar who promised to make playboys out of wimps, and for Shah Rukh Khan through his friend played by Vinay Pathak, who turns the world’s most boring government employee into a wannabe hunk (with a supremely garish dressing sense).
But where Choti Si Baat was a crisply edited, fast paced, and innovatively written romantic comedy which kept you glued to the screen in anticipation, Rab Ne… was let down by its writers. The movie has been well shot on wonderful sets and location. The director, Aditya Chopra started shooting the movie in May 2008, wrapped it within 50 days flat and released it in December. That’s quite an achievement considering the great looking and excellently performed end product. But another achievement tagged with the movie is that its screenplay was written in 20 days or so. Alas! That shows and may have proved to be its undoing.
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi starts off well, portraying the lives and conflicts of its lead characters through some excellent performances and gripping sequences. Anushka Sharma’s character, bludgeoned by tragedy, sitting on her marital bed and turning around to find two pillows is a powerful scene, followed by so many others – SRK taking a bath under a tap, SRK looking adoringly at the tiffin prepared by his wife. Things take a turn with the entry of the alter ego of Suri. Quite like Stanley Ipcis (Jim Carrey) in The Mask and like so many of us, Suri the outwardly sedate and sober soul, has a naughty spirit repressed within him, which he unleashes as Anushka’s dancing partner. Credibility goes to the winds as the lady fails to recognize her husband. However the writer/director cares to explain that it is ‘Rab’ who wants it that way. Fair enough. I am not complaining. I just want my movies to be entertaining, credibility be damned. But the entertainment fizzles out as Suri’s character takes backstage and his flamboyant version, the badly dressed, vulgar but cute, Raj assumes center stage. Not that the Raj character is responsible for the movie going downhill, I mean how many actors can you think of, who can carry inane lines like, “hum hain rahi pyar ke, phir milenge, chalte chalte” or wear the most atrocious tees and jeans with élan. It is the repetitive dance sequences and less of Suri’s character that does Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi in. I think if the script had more of Suri fumbling around to win his wife’s love and their relationship growing along the length of the film, “Rab Ne” may have been a classic.
Talking of classics brings to mind Christopher Nolan’s dizzyingly brilliant Memento. Unfortunately, A.R. Murugadoss only had the skills to rip-off the “15 minutes and memory kaput” element of the original’s plot. Ghajini stayed true to what I expected it to be, the promos reminded me of umpteen south Indian potboilers whose dubbed versions are regularly aired in cheap Hindi movie channels that do not have the money to buy better films.
When it comes to the so-called category of masala films, the self-styled Mr. Perfectionist, Aamir Khan has floundered more often than not. Even when we don’t take into account his Daulat Ki Jung and Mela days. Mangal Pandey – The Rising and Fanaa contributed to the stinking trash that came out when Mr. Khan tried to please the masses in the recent times. Add Ghajini to that dump. However, to be fair it’s not half as bad as the aforementioned films, courtesy it’s fast-paced, action packed plot. But then, that all there’s to Ghajini, and that’s not speaking a lot. I mean lead actors beating up baddies like the original Superman, the one from Krypton, is not a new concept. Bombay film industry grew out of it in the 80s, south Indian film industry still loves it. But the point is, it’s a juvenile and lazy substitute for devising well choreographed stunts, this in the days of the Bourne series and the Bond movies is unacceptable!
Moreover there is not a single well conceived character in Ghajini. We have the super successful hero, who has the world at his feet but falls for the poor beauty with a heart of gold. And later roams around the city like a mad dog killing people. No one recognizes him!!! An explanation is offered early on in the movie that he has recently returned from America and people don’t know him well. But c’mon man, we are talking about someone who is probably counted among the richest people in India, and is also a stunningly handsome bachelor. Anyway as I have explained earlier, I do not look out for logic in movies if they are entertaining enough. That’s the problem with Ghajini. It’s probably one of the most outdated ‘big’ movies I have seen in the last few years. Outdated in terms of its craft, writing, performance… you name it. The director does not reveal the heroine’s mischievous girl with a golden heart character. He bludgeons and drills that into the audiences’ mind. Same with Aamir Khan’s mad dog protagonist, who has to fume, groan and grunt so that the audience can understand his agony, such antics suited Dharmendra better and that too has been reduced to being fodder for the starved talent in various comedy shows on TV. And yes we are reminded every few minutes that the lead character is suffering from anteretrograde amnesia, which also results in a hilarious scene at the climax, where the protagonist goes through two diaries worth of knowledge transfer, gets to the baddy’s den, thrashes his goons into a mangled mass, pummels the arch villain and when he is at the edge of delivering his final blows, the writer/director remember that it’s time to make him start life with a clean slate! I guess, even Superman wouldn’t have managed to pack so much in 15 minutes. Overall the movie doesn’t have much to say, it has 3-4 types of sequences that are repeated throughout in various forms and that makes it tiring to watch. Better luck next time Mr. Khan! As for Mr. Murugadoss, since I have not seen any of his earlier movies, no comments! [Originally published in Passion for Cinema - http://passionforcinema.com/suspend-your-disbelief]
Two of the most hotly anticipated movies…
Two of the biggest stars of Hindi cinema…
Two men on the wrong side of forty, romancing girls young enough to be their daughters…
Two logic defying plots…
Two certified super hits…
Welcome to the world of blockbusters, Bombay ishtyle!
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Ghajini. Two of the most hotly anticipated movies of 2008, came a couple of weeks apart. Yours truly did not have much hope from both movies, going by the impression formed by their promos and whatever was known about their storylines, but somehow ended up watching both. And the movies fell mostly along the lines of my expectations.
I expected Rab Ne… to be typical diabetes inducing Yash Raj Films yawnfest. Well, it was saccharine sweet, it was boring, yes. And unlike a typical Yash Raj picture, it did not have memorable songs. But the departure that this movie made from the Yash Raj tradition, were in terms of its characters and setting, and that was what clinched the deal for me. Surinder Sahni, the character played by Shahrukh Khan reminded me of Amol Palekar in those wonderful films made by Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee when they were at their creative peak. Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was itself like a “primed up for NextGen” version of Choti Si Baat and to a lesser extent Golmaal. It was heartening to see characters wearing clothes worn by you and me. The protagonist commuting on a scooter like many of you dear readers might have seen your fathers and uncles do. The movie in fact had quite a few similarities with Choti Si Baat. Both had endearingly simple central characters who just couldn’t get around to winning their lady loves. Help for Amol Palekar came in the form of Ashok Kumar who promised to make playboys out of wimps, and for Shah Rukh Khan through his friend played by Vinay Pathak, who turns the world’s most boring government employee into a wannabe hunk (with a supremely garish dressing sense).
But where Choti Si Baat was a crisply edited, fast paced, and innovatively written romantic comedy which kept you glued to the screen in anticipation, Rab Ne… was let down by its writers. The movie has been well shot on wonderful sets and location. The director, Aditya Chopra started shooting the movie in May 2008, wrapped it within 50 days flat and released it in December. That’s quite an achievement considering the great looking and excellently performed end product. But another achievement tagged with the movie is that its screenplay was written in 20 days or so. Alas! That shows and may have proved to be its undoing.
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi starts off well, portraying the lives and conflicts of its lead characters through some excellent performances and gripping sequences. Anushka Sharma’s character, bludgeoned by tragedy, sitting on her marital bed and turning around to find two pillows is a powerful scene, followed by so many others – SRK taking a bath under a tap, SRK looking adoringly at the tiffin prepared by his wife. Things take a turn with the entry of the alter ego of Suri. Quite like Stanley Ipcis (Jim Carrey) in The Mask and like so many of us, Suri the outwardly sedate and sober soul, has a naughty spirit repressed within him, which he unleashes as Anushka’s dancing partner. Credibility goes to the winds as the lady fails to recognize her husband. However the writer/director cares to explain that it is ‘Rab’ who wants it that way. Fair enough. I am not complaining. I just want my movies to be entertaining, credibility be damned. But the entertainment fizzles out as Suri’s character takes backstage and his flamboyant version, the badly dressed, vulgar but cute, Raj assumes center stage. Not that the Raj character is responsible for the movie going downhill, I mean how many actors can you think of, who can carry inane lines like, “hum hain rahi pyar ke, phir milenge, chalte chalte” or wear the most atrocious tees and jeans with élan. It is the repetitive dance sequences and less of Suri’s character that does Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi in. I think if the script had more of Suri fumbling around to win his wife’s love and their relationship growing along the length of the film, “Rab Ne” may have been a classic.
Talking of classics brings to mind Christopher Nolan’s dizzyingly brilliant Memento. Unfortunately, A.R. Murugadoss only had the skills to rip-off the “15 minutes and memory kaput” element of the original’s plot. Ghajini stayed true to what I expected it to be, the promos reminded me of umpteen south Indian potboilers whose dubbed versions are regularly aired in cheap Hindi movie channels that do not have the money to buy better films.
When it comes to the so-called category of masala films, the self-styled Mr. Perfectionist, Aamir Khan has floundered more often than not. Even when we don’t take into account his Daulat Ki Jung and Mela days. Mangal Pandey – The Rising and Fanaa contributed to the stinking trash that came out when Mr. Khan tried to please the masses in the recent times. Add Ghajini to that dump. However, to be fair it’s not half as bad as the aforementioned films, courtesy it’s fast-paced, action packed plot. But then, that all there’s to Ghajini, and that’s not speaking a lot. I mean lead actors beating up baddies like the original Superman, the one from Krypton, is not a new concept. Bombay film industry grew out of it in the 80s, south Indian film industry still loves it. But the point is, it’s a juvenile and lazy substitute for devising well choreographed stunts, this in the days of the Bourne series and the Bond movies is unacceptable!
Moreover there is not a single well conceived character in Ghajini. We have the super successful hero, who has the world at his feet but falls for the poor beauty with a heart of gold. And later roams around the city like a mad dog killing people. No one recognizes him!!! An explanation is offered early on in the movie that he has recently returned from America and people don’t know him well. But c’mon man, we are talking about someone who is probably counted among the richest people in India, and is also a stunningly handsome bachelor. Anyway as I have explained earlier, I do not look out for logic in movies if they are entertaining enough. That’s the problem with Ghajini. It’s probably one of the most outdated ‘big’ movies I have seen in the last few years. Outdated in terms of its craft, writing, performance… you name it. The director does not reveal the heroine’s mischievous girl with a golden heart character. He bludgeons and drills that into the audiences’ mind. Same with Aamir Khan’s mad dog protagonist, who has to fume, groan and grunt so that the audience can understand his agony, such antics suited Dharmendra better and that too has been reduced to being fodder for the starved talent in various comedy shows on TV. And yes we are reminded every few minutes that the lead character is suffering from anteretrograde amnesia, which also results in a hilarious scene at the climax, where the protagonist goes through two diaries worth of knowledge transfer, gets to the baddy’s den, thrashes his goons into a mangled mass, pummels the arch villain and when he is at the edge of delivering his final blows, the writer/director remember that it’s time to make him start life with a clean slate! I guess, even Superman wouldn’t have managed to pack so much in 15 minutes. Overall the movie doesn’t have much to say, it has 3-4 types of sequences that are repeated throughout in various forms and that makes it tiring to watch. Better luck next time Mr. Khan! As for Mr. Murugadoss, since I have not seen any of his earlier movies, no comments! [Originally published in Passion for Cinema - http://passionforcinema.com/suspend-your-disbelief]
Monday, September 22, 2008
“Bollywood”. Period. Comes of Age. Period.
“Bollywood is finally coming of age/ We are closing in on Hollywood very fast” - Nowadays I hear, or read, this statement or its variants uncomfortably often. Uncomfortable, because I have some objections. Firstly, why “Bollywood”? The term is at best an insult to the rich history of Hindi cinema, and I have not even included our great regional cinema which are derogatively referred to as Mollywood, Tollywood and God only knows how many other “****woods”. Hollywood is only ahead in terms of production values and that’s simply because they are loaded with the greenbacks. The Godfathers of Hollywood can’t even dream of achieving the production values that a regular Mumbai potboiler can achieve, at a beggarly fraction of the average Hollywood budget.
The second part of the statement that makes me uncomfortable is about Hindi cinema pushing the envelope, becoming more intelligent and all that. To those people who hold such opinions, I would like to say that please skip the 70s, 80s and 90s and go back, you will find cinema that was much farther ahead than the most cutting edge stuff that Bombay comes out with nowadays. And no, I’m not talking about high brow, dull, or sleep inducing stuff. I am referring to white knuckle thrillers, vertigo inducing mysteries, stomach bursting comedies and larger than life melodramas. These were movies which were not “inspired” by some substandard Hollywood product. These were original stuff produced by brains that grew upon the power of raw imagination. Minds that had not been paralyzed by information overload, multitasking, dumb television serials and dumber news channels. These were the minds of B.R. Chopra, Raj Kapoor, Mehboob Khan, Guru Dutt, Bimal Roy, K. Asif, Hrishikesh Muherjee, the Anand brothers (Chetan, Dev and Vijay) and many more. They produced stuff which retains their razor’s edge even forty, fifty, sixty years after their release. Those were the times when people got to see great stuff with much more regularity than we get to see a Lagaan, a Dil Chahta Hai, a Black Friday, a Khosla Ka Ghosla or a Mithya. They had stuff like Awara, Shree 420, Madhumati, Kanoon, Ittefaq, Do Beegha Zameen, Johar Mehmood in Goa/Hong Kong, Pyaasa, Kaagaz Ke Phool, Jewel Thief, etc. coming every few months.
But then came the seventies and the angry young Big B, and somehow everything changed. Probably gargantuan hits like Sholay convinced producers and directors that they only had to hire Amitabh Bachchan and the money would come rolling in. Probably the memories of the struggles of Independence had already started dying out… It is said that great works of art have been produced during times of oppression. Probably we had started getting used to the benefits of Independence, started taking it for granted, become complacent and lost our edge somewhere. Probably that’s only partially true, probably we are not proud enough of our country, our heritage, which would have made us find and tell interesting stories… It’s only the Indians who hold Indian film awards in foreign countries… Oh! How we salivate for their attention. It’s only in Hindi cinema where stories are more often than not set in foreign countries, or need excuses in the form of songs to go there. The Chinese tell stories of China, the Iranians tell stories of Iran, and their cinema has long surpassed Hindi cinema in terms of global renown. I don’t want to appear overtly nationalistic, but if we really want to push the envelope and win global respect, then its time that we forget “Bollywood” and tell stories of India and Indians.
The second part of the statement that makes me uncomfortable is about Hindi cinema pushing the envelope, becoming more intelligent and all that. To those people who hold such opinions, I would like to say that please skip the 70s, 80s and 90s and go back, you will find cinema that was much farther ahead than the most cutting edge stuff that Bombay comes out with nowadays. And no, I’m not talking about high brow, dull, or sleep inducing stuff. I am referring to white knuckle thrillers, vertigo inducing mysteries, stomach bursting comedies and larger than life melodramas. These were movies which were not “inspired” by some substandard Hollywood product. These were original stuff produced by brains that grew upon the power of raw imagination. Minds that had not been paralyzed by information overload, multitasking, dumb television serials and dumber news channels. These were the minds of B.R. Chopra, Raj Kapoor, Mehboob Khan, Guru Dutt, Bimal Roy, K. Asif, Hrishikesh Muherjee, the Anand brothers (Chetan, Dev and Vijay) and many more. They produced stuff which retains their razor’s edge even forty, fifty, sixty years after their release. Those were the times when people got to see great stuff with much more regularity than we get to see a Lagaan, a Dil Chahta Hai, a Black Friday, a Khosla Ka Ghosla or a Mithya. They had stuff like Awara, Shree 420, Madhumati, Kanoon, Ittefaq, Do Beegha Zameen, Johar Mehmood in Goa/Hong Kong, Pyaasa, Kaagaz Ke Phool, Jewel Thief, etc. coming every few months.
But then came the seventies and the angry young Big B, and somehow everything changed. Probably gargantuan hits like Sholay convinced producers and directors that they only had to hire Amitabh Bachchan and the money would come rolling in. Probably the memories of the struggles of Independence had already started dying out… It is said that great works of art have been produced during times of oppression. Probably we had started getting used to the benefits of Independence, started taking it for granted, become complacent and lost our edge somewhere. Probably that’s only partially true, probably we are not proud enough of our country, our heritage, which would have made us find and tell interesting stories… It’s only the Indians who hold Indian film awards in foreign countries… Oh! How we salivate for their attention. It’s only in Hindi cinema where stories are more often than not set in foreign countries, or need excuses in the form of songs to go there. The Chinese tell stories of China, the Iranians tell stories of Iran, and their cinema has long surpassed Hindi cinema in terms of global renown. I don’t want to appear overtly nationalistic, but if we really want to push the envelope and win global respect, then its time that we forget “Bollywood” and tell stories of India and Indians.
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