Paifa vafool!

Yesterday we went to watch a movie. Which is news, under the circumstances. The missus was apprehensive of going into a movie hall. She's read somewhere that crowded air conditioned spaces are the ideal transfer points of H1N1. Thankfully nobody in the plex coughed, sneezed, or looked sick in any manner. Nobody was wearing a mask. Yours truly was the only person letting out an occasional cough and getting regarded with alarmed looks. I'm told young Ms. Ayushi is having a similar experience in school. These days their teachers are told to stay alert for probable cough and cold symptoms. And every morning at the assembly, under those observant eyes, our daughter feels a huge sneeze welling up inside her whenever she looks at the morning sun. She says the sun getting in her eyes makes her sneeze. I believe we are a family of nervous sneezers and coughers.

About what we chose to watch, I'm more than satisfied.

Kaminay is farp. Kaminay is ftark. (It even has a racy number called fatak, which, shock of shocks, is actually about Shahid Kapoor the goody NGO worker Guddu, extolling the virtue of safe sex with a bit of pomp and circumstance, inside a red light district. I'd never have guessed. But I get ahead of myself here....where was I? ) Yes. Kaminay has the the Vishal Bhardwaj stamp of quality. In extra bold letters too. The slight variation here is in the pace of events as they build up towards a climax. Were Mr. Bharadwaj playing cricket, this would be his debut in oneday matches. All them gangsters, the chase scenes, the arson and shootouts, this is territory often frequented by a fellow Tarrantino fan, Fanjay F. Gupta. But like they say, the proof of the effing is in the color of the baby's eyes. I'm quite sure if Guptaji were to make this film, a certain Mr. Dutt would be playing the kamina played here (with sublime panache', I must add) by Amol Gupte. And we all know how it would turn out, don't we? So there.

The triumph of scene and dialogue writing that was integral to Omkara and Maqbool takes Mr. Bharadwaj to new realms here. Unlike these earlier adaptations where the literary backbone demanded him to dispense the bard's famous monologues every once in a while, here he has more freedom over the original storyline (unless, that is to say, this is his take on The comedy of errorf. Just a thought). The result is spectacular. In Kaminay, Vishal uses the economy of words and subtle wordplay to perfection. It all starts to happen in the first 90 seconds of the film. When Charlie the lisper lays out the rules of the story and lets you know why he will call an f an f. That opening grabs one by the balls and fixes the attention squarely. From then on it's one rocking ride.

The gems of dialogue were discussed in great detail by Raja Sen on rediff. The only thing I might add is the one instance where the dialogue was left unsaid. In the early minutes of the film, Charlie says something like, "watt usse nahi lagti ki kaunsa rasta tum chunte ho. Balki watt usse lagti hai ki kaunsa rasta tum chhodte ho." Now I couldn't make much of it at the time (in any case, I have limited understanding of mumbaiyya language; in my opinion, agar CFL nahi jalaoge to bahut watt lag jayega). Not until towards the very end of the climax when Charlie decides to play proper and not pick up the two huge diamonds from a dead Tashi's hand, and gets shot at the back as a result. You are shown a tight close shot of the hand with diamonds and the dialogue is left unrepeated. Masterly!

Shahid Kapoor acts like he's the future of hindi cinema. Well, perhaps he is. He and Abhay Deol. But the refreshing surprises are in Ms Chopra's hurricane Marathi lines, the awesome ensemble cast of cameo players largely unseen in hindi screen (especially the bong brothers), and every character defined with nuances. From what one has seen in an otherwise drab year for Bollywood, surely this will be the one 2009 is going to be remembered by.

It was just a wedding in Feb


This is the woman once wooed by Leo. This is the woman that once famously said of her failed relationship with Ronaldo, "Men? who needs men? I have my dogs."


Last Thursday it seems, she finally wed her quarterback. And the bride as well as her dogs, were dressed by Dolce & Gabbana.

Why does that elicit a sigh?

Ah,well,well, well. Best wishes, gal.

Oscar musings

For a woman who used to look so fresh and exquisitely beautiful, Kate Winslet looked deecidedly ugly tonight. What's with that hair? Or is it a hairpiece?

The guy Longinous Danny Boyle mentioned in his acceptance, the one who choreographed Jai Ho. Was it the same Longi who partnered Sweta Salve or somebody on Jhalak Dikhla Ja? Does anybody remember? That small fellow with a big smile? Come a long way, it seems.

Didn't know of Michael Crichton's death before today's ceremony. It was a shock seeing his photo among all those dead people.

The way Mickey Rourke of today looks never ceases to amaze me. What happened to the impish cool cat of 9 1/2 weeks? Poor fellow got worse for wear throughout the 80's and 90's. Apparently some botched up plastic surgery after a broken face in the ring. Bad Bad academy, you should have given the bloke something. Especially since Penn already had a statuette. I've got a thing for epic losers.

Is it for the awards season that so many big names time their releases for the letter part of the year? Isn't it surprising that Slumdog and Button and Frost/Nixon and Milk won so many nominations while for such a big movie, Dark Knight got so few?


I loved Jessica Biel on the red carpet. But then I love Jessica Biel. Period. But the way she carried a largeish bib/washcloth tucked in front pretending it was part of her gown tonight, priceless.

And oh yes, I did the customary Yayyys and high fives for AR. What did he say in Tam?

Ciao' for now. Be back for next year.

Pics source 1,2

Khaak-sar



I often enjoy watching films that no one else seem to bother with. Like these two films I caught lately. One, with great potential, competent cast, some sort of an improbable storyline that's the stuff of most great comedy, some witty one-liners and smart scenes here and there, but altogether a waste of effort. Another, the second from a line of awfully fucking disrespectful films that have come to define a genre. The genre which is neither ABCD nor American Pie. But first let's talk about Mallicka Sherawat.

Ooh, the way she turns at the door, makes a face and throws Khaak-sar at Kay Kay Menon ! Maybe Maan gaye Mughal-e-azam could be endured once just for that moment. And all that at the end of a spate of hilarity from good old Sanjay Chhel, where he does 'fun with Urdu', an oft-visited terrain in Bollywood, but still manages to turn out some originals. Consider this.

Kay Kay (to Pawan Malhotra) : Thode Mashruf hain bhai, kal baat karte hain.
Pawan : Mushroom kha rahela hai to kya hua re?

Kay Kay: Don bhai to bahut bade fan hain hamare mausiki ke
Mallicka: Kiski mausi? Aap ki mausi bhi singer hain? Meri mausi bhi gaati hain. Bhajan.

While Mallicka and Sanjay Chhel keep the show running, Paresh Rawal and Rahul Bose keep ruining it. About Paresh, we needn't elaborate. Nowadays he unfailingly gets into this loud bigger-than-the-script mode. So extremely annoying, everybody hates him for it. About Rahul, I think he is a misfit for this sort of a game. Not his forte. He's much better understated. His flaws with comic timing is exposed here every now and then.

In the end, it's Ms. Sherawat's film. Say what you will, but I can't help feeling sorry for her. She needed a hit at this point, and God knows she did all she could, and then some. But all her efforts lay wasted in a product put together in a hurry, a product running frequently out of funds by the looks of it, a sad mishmash in all hues of brilliance and shoddiness. Sigh!




When you are among the presence of the great Kumar Patel, you tell your sensibilities go see a man about a dog. Or some other animal.

In this, their second outing, Harold and Kumar are a much improved lot. They are no longer gawky undergrads posturing as adults. Now they've come of age. Now they aren't out of their depths even while smoking weed with Dubya. Then they have this conversation with the Prez.

-Dude, this is weed.
-That's Alabama Kush. That's only the finest.
-So you get high and then you put other people who smoke weed in jail? That's so hypocritical.
-Yeah? Well, let me ask you something, Kumar. You like giving hand jobs?
- No, sir.
- You like getting hand jobs?
- Yeah.
-All right. Well, that makes you a fucking hypocriticizer too. So shut the fuck up and smoke my weed.

Exceptional vision has gone behind that scene. Makes you see why everybody loves America. By the way, if you haven't heard Micky Avalon's brand of genital-bragging rap yet, do click the above utube link. Awe inspiring, I should say. All in all, a coupla hours well spent. To hell with propriety.

Revisiting a dear cousin

No one pulls the wool over the eyes of a Gambini. Especially this one.

This piece of news. Somehow it doesn't make me too happy. Maybe because the film about to be remade is a great big personal favorite. Maybe because I'd wanted to make it in Bollywood when I grew up. Maybe because I just cannot look at Ravi Chopra without a certain amount of disdain. He of the B-films. (This is something I just noticed, but all Mr. Chopra's films now seem to start with a B, not unlike Ms. eKta K-apoor.)



But first things first. Do I have reservations against Govinda playing Joe Pesci's role? Let's see, in all of Joe's illustrated career, this will perhaps be rated as one of his two finest roles (the other of course, being Goodfellas). Can Chi-Chi be quite as good? (Will he look too old? C'mon, surely nobody can look older than Joe?) Well, I'm prepared to give him a proper go at it, with a proper director and all. I have faith in him, I do. Not in Mr. Chopra's sensibilities, I don't.

Up next. Is that Lara there playing Marisa Tomei's character, or Tabu? Either way, where is the role for the other? I can't conceive of one. Another sweet brainwave of Mr. Chopra? Look, we can't play much with Ms. Tomei's role here, can we? It was her winning the Academy on an outside chance for this role, remember?



Remember these immortal lines?

Vinny Gambini: What about these pants I got on? You think they're okay?
Mona Lisa Vito: Imagine you're a deer. You're prancing along. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the cool, clear water - BAM. A fuckin' bullet rips off part of your head. Your brains are lying on the ground in little bloody pieces. Now I ask ya, would you give a fuck what kind of pants the son-of-a-bitch who shot you was wearing?

Delicate delicate stuff, constructing this character. Doesn't make it any easier when you want to distribute footage between the lawyer's fiancee' and the defendant's girlfriend.Or is Tabu playing Judge Chamberlain Haller, by an wild stretch of imagination? That, would be fun to watch.

Apart from the lead actors, then, and every other peripheral detail, the film is about two Americas looking at each other with a lot of distrust and hostility. The southerner's attitude to the big city slickers who, as a matter of fact, are Italian-Americans, or worse, Jews, borders on xenophobia. And the City slickers? Their take on these hicks is best summed up by this line:

Vinny Gambini: Hey Stan, you're in Ala-Fuckin-Bama. You come from New York. You killed a good old boy. There is no way this is not going to trial.

Hard to be set into an Indian context, but then, you're reminded of our own north-south divide and you're reminded of Ek Duje Ke Liye and you say, OK, not that hard.

On another level, this is the story of the underdog winning against unsurmountable odds. Because he has truth on his side. Because of John 8.32."ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free". Whenever in my limited power of appreciation for works of art I've had doubts about the quality of something, I've asked myself this:

Does it bring a lump to my throat? Did I come back with a tear in my eyes?

Yes, it does. In more ways than one. And I'd always wanted this dear cousin to be revisited like that. With a tear of joy. Somehow, I find it hard to believe Mr. Chopra and team will be able to recreate that ethos.

The ever growing Salman Khan
If he kept saying no, how would he ever grow?

Until now, it must be me only, but the way Salman Khan is growing taller by the day is a phenomenon all of us must soon recognize and suitably marvel at.

1994 : Andaz Apna Apna ; Salman and Amir were the same pint size

2008 : Dus Ka Dum ; Presto! Salman is three inches taller. Now, you'll say Salman has pimped up hair and Amir has tonsured his head, so here's another :

2006 : Rang De Basanti premiere ; See, see?

1998 : Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai ; SRK looks marginally taller

2007 : KBC ; Salman towers over both SRK, and KAT, who I thought stood a head above both!

At the rate Salman is vertically reaching out, grabbing progressively taller girlfriends, and surpassing his co-actors in stature, I think I should post another picture in advance:


Watch this space.

The idea-raising campaign

The other night I was trying to watch an abomination of a comedy called Mere Baap Pehle Aap. It made me somewhat sad and pensive. It made me wonder what happened to good old storytelling in Hindi films. What happened to originality of thought, and most importantly, whatever happened to the healthy Bollywood tradition of wholesome plagiarism? I look at the releases of this year, and they are a very sad bunch. The Mumbai Film Industry is having a bad day at office.

So here's something I thought of doing. Something close to my heart. Now, I may not have revealed it to a lot of people, but I've wanted to make movies all my life. Yes, I'd also wanted to meet Santa Claus, but those were really early days. The moviemaking wish has been a consistently strong one ever since I learnt to put my fingers together and frame a shot, which was pretty early too (I was all of 15 I think). As I grew older, I learned to appreciate that writing an original screenplay and directing it is too much hard work for anybody's good, unless you are Quentin Tarantino, who I knew I wasn't (Y'know, for a brief moment there, RGV thought he was, but then, everybody now knows the score.)

So here's what I'd do instead. I'd settle on playing the movie producer. My duties will include selecting an working title, an original story idea, deciding on the chaps to direct and play the characters and hopefully find finance for the party to begin. (this will be the tough part, but here I'm counting on my blaudience, whose number now threatens to touch double figures. But I brag, and digress...)

You can say my choice of story inspirations are shallow. To which I shall say, "Oh yes I'm Shallow Hal, what the fug is your problem? Who wants to watch DEEP anyway? "

Without further prelude, then, dear friends, we present the line-up of the first 5 ventures from Digdowndeep Productions. Don't get fooled by the frivolous tone. These are serious business proposals, worthy of top-dollar investments. These five original films have been long time favorites, and I'm ready to bet on their viability in an Indian adaptation. I'm sure there are countless other Hollywood and European films waiting to get inspired by. But these are, to my mind, like infant orphans screaming their hearts out begging to be adopted. We'll start at the shallow end of the pool, and gradually go deeper.

1. Ane Wala Pal (Next)



There's the thing about the future. Every time you look at, it changes. Because you looked at it. And that changes everything else.
This is a sci-fi, and not the 2050 sort. It seems the character played by John Abraham has the magical power to see two minutes ahead into the future. Into his own future. When he meets the Jiah Khan character, his abilities dramatically improve. a terrorist group gets involved in the story, and all all sorts of excitement ensue. For further details, visit imdb. To be directed by Abbas Tyrewala. (I'd have loved to rope in Shekhar kapur, but I want to finish it before 2050.) The film will be equally viable with Emraan Has me and Neha Uberoi, but it will have to bear the dubious Bhatt tag.

2. Achambit ( Bedazzled)



Fair? Who do you think you're talking to? I don't recall anybody ever accusing me of being fair before. I think I'm insulted.
A deal with the Devil. Going hilariously wrong. I don't believe anybody else in India can look and walk the role played by Liz Hurley other than Malaika Arora Khan. Casting her is 80% of the job done. The male lead will be up for grabs. My preference is Shahid Kapoor. Aftab Shivdasani would fit just as well, but lack the presence and the innocence. Sohail Khan will do the honors at the megaphone for two reasons. He' s had experience in supernatural comedy with the disastrous Hello Brother. And he might be comfortable in directing the devil, 'cause she's family. The love interest? Somebody giggly and stupid. Genelia if Shahid plays the lead.

3. Gattu Parmeswar (Bruce Almighty)



Hood: Okay Cool, man, the day a monkey comes out of my butt is the day you'll get your sorry.
Bruce: What a coincidence, because that's TODAY.
Man is unhappy with God. God meets him and hands over his reign. Just to show where it pinches. Who do I want to play Jim Carrey? Let's see, Govinda did a first rate job in Kiyunki main Jhooth Nahin Bolta (Liar, Liar), but the Chi-Chi of today won't look credible. Akshaye Khanna does decent comedy, I'll only have to get him a decent hairpiece. The only other choice is Akshay Kumar. While he has the gift of timing, he may not be adequate in the motormouth blabbering department. Then again, there's Arshad Warsi. Looks to me the most suitable.
For Jennifer Aniston's role, I would take Ayesha Takia without hesitation. But we need somebody with a smaller rack. For that one scene, remember? Well then, Aarti Chhabria it is. Competent and underrated.
Amitabh as God? Of course that would be the most unimaginative choice. We'll try Nana patekar instead. he even looks a lot like Morgan Freeman.
And no other director for me please. Has to be David Dhawan.

4. Machhli Jal Ki Rani Hai ( Like a Fish out of water)

It's different. They don't make films more different than this. A heist for, of all things, a rare tropical fish. Cynical plotters. A femme fatale. Bloodbath. The meek inherits the earth. Bible couldn't have been more profound.
Important thing here is to choose our femme fatale. I'd leave the spot open for Monica Bellucci's character. It'll be a toss-up between Kajol And Sush. Kajol, a tad easy on eye make-up. Sush, with a bit of a makeover, to look her actual age. Whoever has the dates. Needless to say it'll be the role of a lifetime for both.
I'm not too choosy about the hoods. One of them should be Naseruddin Shah. And the meek fish expert, the protagonist? Rajpal Yadav, anyone? Remember Main Meri Patni aur Woh?
Nobody in Mumbai can make it better than Sanjay F. Gupta. Let's not look any further.











5. Kahan Ho Malik? ( O brother, where art thou?)



They have a plan, but not a clue.

Three jailbreak fugitives. A stashed away treasure. A fast-paced road movie. American deep south in the '30s. Backdrop of racial strife, religion and an upcoming election in backstate Mississippi. A plethora of colorful characters. I don't know how my Odyssey will be Indianised. But I do want to get this movie made in Mumbai.
We'll have to think on the lines of the freedom struggle and Hindu-Muslim riots. And at the same time, make a classy, fast, light-hearted and fun film. Tough ask. We might go to Vidhu Vinod Chopra and ask him to take charge. He should also bring on board his immensely talented director Rajkumar Hirani. Vidhu did a great job with 1942, he should be able to replicate it here. Or we can approach Vishal Varadwaj. Since he's been so good with Shakespeare, Homer for him should be home turf.
I don't care much who play the characters. I only want Saif to play George Clooney's role. Suave and rakish at the same time, Saif can.
Who will provide Soggy Bottom Boys' Music? Who will sing "Man of Constant sorrow?" Well, the issue will be settled at leisure.

That, then, will be my gift to Bollywood this summer. Anyone wishes to make such gifts is most welcome. We are about to start a campaign to raise the maximum number of story ideas. If you are reading this, if you're into films and Bollywood, and if you keep a blog (too many ifs?), you must also think of doing a tag. In fact I can readily think of three people, Amrita, Arnab and Ramsu who'll easily make a more handsome contribution to our campaign.

Till kingdom come

The modernists said, " Style is king" ( These were people who also said green is the new fuschia, thereby proving they must never be taken seriously.)
The purists said, "Content is king." ( They were believers of the maxim " God gave you eyes. Plagiarise.")
Proponents of free market said, "Consumer is the king"(and then made a career of royally duping him)
Wiki acknowledges that Simon Pulsifier is the king.
Post US-Open, there's widespread belief that Tiger Woods is the new king (of pain)
Knowledgeable beer lovers would still call Gambrinus their king.



Well it appears that none of them was the real deal. Because come the 8th of August, only Singh is.

Our very own Pritam-da ,who is auditioning for the role of the fattest apostle in the upcoming Monty Python flick called Monty Python and the last supper (hence the tonsorial abstinence and and all that bread and wine he's been soaking up), is all hurt and dejection these days. He is saying, "What variety of a dog needs two g's? And who now are the new RDB? More than one of them, it seems? I mean, I worship Pancham-da and all, and although his tunes are are so oft-heard they're hard to lift, I'm working on it. In the meantime, these RDB chaps and their Dogg come along and steal a number from right under my..er..nose? What sort of a dog-eat-dog business is this?"
(The assorted animals have actually done some groundbreaking work, I think. They've put together, for the first time in the history of music, a lullaby laced with hip-hop sounds.)

So the fun begins to sizzle. And while we're on the subject, I'd love to put in a word sideways about Katrina Kaif the living doll. The way, with every passing day, she's starting to look more and more like a creature of flesh and blood, is making me develop a tender crush on her. Though I must also admit, that when it comes to leggy supermodels my heart is still in the right place. It is in safe hands, so to speak, with Giselle. Like Sir Paul would sing, Giselle, ma belle, those are words which go together well.....

Under duress to go watch Jane tu etc. on the July 4 opening. Wifey's still got a thing for those boy-girl stories. Let's see.

Update: I made a mistake, the video above actually shows the title composed by Pritam-da and not that bunch!

White=Beauty?



Yes. I can't help talking about this ad. But maybe that's the whole idea behind the campaign. To make people like you and me mad and hate it so much the marketers have already created awareness for their product. I mean, till recently, they used their fresh faces and new discoveries to sell to the fairness obsession. Think fair and lovely and their models. Now Lever has gone and upped the ante and hired two-and-a-quarter of the country's hottest stars ( Neha Dhupia, stand up and be counted) to "act" in a "film" doing the same fairness routine. Yuck! I mean, the blood boils, the mind boggles, and words fail me. If you want more sickening info, check out here.

One thing is certain. I can never forgive Saif for doing this stuff. I mean, I thought he was way too classy and all....well, forget it.

IMHO, the worse thing than celebrities endorsing whiskey is ...... celebrities endorsing fairness concoctions!

KK Is Paris?

Had anyone read this earlier post? Now it seems, Kareena Kapoor is out to vindicate my earlier observation and openly demonstrating her "Paris"ian intentions. Pic courtesy Tashan album inlays. Listening to the music of Tashan.
The title song is quite interesting and a completely new kind of sound for some yrf production. Chhaliyan and Falak Tak are predictable. Dil Haara, like so many other Sukhwinder Singh hits, forceful and involving. Rest of the tracks might take a little longer to grow on one's ears.
What's your take?

Easily this morning's most interesting news. Pity for the Khan. BTW, I think Salman is getting completely favorable media coverage these days. Everybody says he's fine. Including Madame Tussauds. Me, I always thought he was fine. I love the way he never emotes. He's developed a really cool method of thumbing his nose at high drama on screen. Most women always loved him anyways. It's lately that the menfolk have been converted. Guess it's got to do with his holding down a relationship with a bomb of a GF long enough. He should, however go a little easy on promoting his films on TV music shows. Doesn't seem to suit his style. That's so SRK.

I love Fergie. She'll forever be on my list of the sexiest women on earth. She had herself opined in an interview that her greatest asset is her really flat abs. Well, one tends to disagree. But with this number she's added her singing and songwriting abilities to her long list of assets.
And while we're dwelling on it, there's something I'd always wanted to know but was too afraid to ask. Namely, what the heck does black eyed peas mean?

Is Bebo trying to look like Paris? Now, we all know she's shedding everything there is between her skin and her bones (and fast) just to look right for the bikini scene she's going to shoot for Tashan. You can read about it here. If my humble opinion counts for anything, she now sports a drawn face, sunken eyes, cheekbones that can slay, lifeless skin that makes her look ten years older for her age and is in general looking like she is preparing for a remake of The Witches of Eastwick. Or Death Becomes Her, if you will. Oops, there I go again. Courting mayhem from her fans.
Please refer to these pics. Courtesey wallpapers.com and santabanta.
Like we all know once again, Paris was gifted with this anorexic bone structure. And Bebo, with the genes from the khate peete Kapoor Khandaan. There's not much fun in dragging on this lame comparison anyway. One only wonders whether going the Paris way, our dear Bebo will end up in jail, which is of course, way better than ending up on the coroner's table, judging by the way she's started to look.