Realism with a pinch of salt

I haven't seen Gangs of Wasseypur as of 10th July 2012 and, so this is by no measure a review of the film. I'm totally prepared to be thrilled or disappointed by the actual film when I eventually do watch it. What prompted this post rather, was this admittedly well-written, but slightly off-the-mark post that mostly revolves around Anurag Kashyap's latest. I have nothing for or against the writer or the many Hindi journalists he has quoted, but their strongest contention against GoW brings me to one of my pet peeves - the gist of the article seems to be that, contrary to what most positive reviews of the film in English language papers tell you, GoW is... wait for it... not the most authentic portrayal of a small town called Wasseypur in Dhanbad! The treachery! The next thing you'll tell me is that Sholay is not a realistic depiction of dacoits around the village of Ramgarh in Jharkhand... or Lagaan is an inaccurate description of Indian history! Perhaps there's an Italian mafia family somewhere fuming over the stereotyping of their clan in the Godfather movies. Did historians question the accuracy of Mughl-e-Azam? One of the journos quoted in the said article has helpfully pointed out that the film isn't even shot in Dhanbad - bad, bad Anurag Kashyap! Now that must be a real deal-breaker, because aren't Hindi films all about authentic locations?

Why is it that the most sincere cinematic endeavors have to bear the burden of authenticity when the Rohit Shettys and Sajid Khans run amok with their chosen brand of entertainment? Now I haven't been meticulously following every press release about GoW, but I don't think Anurag Kashyap ever claimed that he was making a documentary on the coal mafia. Let's try and use the good old "it's just entertainment" refrain here and look at the film in its own context, shall we? Or does one filmmaker's propensity for gritty dramas forbid him from doling out some old-fashioned entertainment?

Many good and bad films fall victim to this kind of half-baked criticism, based on a skewed idea of what realistic cinema means. One of my favorite examples is how this friend of mine, when I told him I'd enjoyed Honeymoon Travels, launched into a Perry Mason-like cross examination (bear in mind that this friend hadn't seen the film yet, but decided it was bad based on some friends' reviews).

Perry Mason: Okay tell me - in this lovely film that you so enjoyed, is there a sub-plot involving superheroes?
Eyewitness: Yes, there is. But...
Perry Mason: Is it true, that in this story about 8 couples on their honeymoon, one of the couples comprises a male and a female superhero?
Eyewitness: Yes, and that's the funny part. You see...
Perry Mason: Yes, I'll see but first tell me - in your opinion, is this realistic or logical?
Eyewitness: Of course it's not logical. That's what...
Perry Mason: Thank you. So you see your honor, witness admits that this film is unrealistic, illogical, and hence, garbage. Prosecution rests.

Okay, that's not how it really went but such was the drift of the conversation. Now  I was trying to come up with a semi-serious analysis of how much part realism should really play in our evaluation of cinema here, but I'll leave that to better critics than myself. For now, my point is just this: entertainment comes in all hues and colors. Just because some films don't come dressed in the traditional garbs of masala filmdom, they need not be held to entirely different criteria.

Two recent examples: Kahaani and Shanghai may claim to have a more authentic 'flavor' to them, but at the end of the day, they are both thrillers. In fact, the quasi-realistic backdrop in both cases works in that it makes the twists and turns of the story that much more relatable - one of the key revelations in Shanghai, for example, comes from a small-time photographer whose meticulous habit of backing up all his work on hard disk leads to the most important clue in the murder mystery. Shanghai touches upon a lot of subjects relevant in contemporary India, but if I start viewing it as a social film, it will fall apart for me because I might not be ideologically in agreement with it. Kahaani, thankfully steers clear of making any statement on terrorism and confines itself to a simple revenge drama draped in brilliant conceit. Call these films whatever you want, but at no point during Kahaani or Shanghai did I feel bored. If that's not entertainment, what is?

Fact: films by certain directors do receive a different kind of criticism because at times, those directors themselves try so hard to be 'different'. As a result, some potentially good films end up being so self-consciously devoid of anything remotely enjoyable, they are like the emperor parading down the street in all his naked glory. The humble viewers are left waiting for a child to hoot first, so we may politely join in. A good idea would be for some of our better filmmakers to stop sulking every time a pet project does not live up to its potential. Maybe the next time a little kid laughs at you, just smile, say oops, and pull a towel around... gosh, I could go on and on with this Emperor's New Clothes analogy :) 


Back to the point if I had one...

So real shmeal, what we need to ask ourselves about most films - nay, any film - is, does it hold together? Sholay holds together; DDLJ for all the things it has been accused of over the last two decades, holds together as a dreamy romance. As long as GoW holds its story together, has me riveted to the screen for the 2+ hours I spend in that auditorium, I don't care if girls of Wasseypur actually walk and talk like Reema Sen. If we can handle Basanti, we can handle this. The very fact that this film has managed to confuse a segment of the media, however small, about its intent and purpose, means it has probably stuck a cord somewhere.

Meanwhile, you die-hard fans of realistic stuff, do please check out Supermen of Malegaon.

My favourite children’s films

The wonderful Memsaab has revived my interest in children’s films made in India, so here’s a little list of my own favourites, in no particular order. Recommendations are most welcome. Free DVDs of recommended movies are even more welcome.

Mind, some of these films might not be ‘children’s films’ in the strictest sense of the word; it’s more like a list of films you could enjoy with your kids - films that are intelligent enough to appeal to adults while simple and interesting enough for kids, and which they won’t feel embarrassed about when they grow up.

Kitaab (1977)

‘Mera Jahan’ song from Taare Zameen Par reminds me of this movie. A sensitive tale of a preteen boy who runs away from home - played to perfection by Master Raju, who by now had become a veteran of sorts, and Gulzaar, who remains the master of sensitive story-telling. The sweet-and-scary adventure of the runaway boy and the various people he meets on the way is intercut with his worried guardians’ search for him, and flashbacks of his life at home and in school.

What I love about this film is the way it portrays the sensitivity, imagination, angst and wickedness of growing children. The journey of young Raju is also a journey of growing up - the boy who crooned the whacky ‘VIP Underwear Baniyan’ song along with his friends in class is also capable of taking offence when a classmate passes a remark on his gorgeous elder sister, and shedding a tear of affection when he hears the familiar voice of a beggar singing in a passing train.

And the Dhanno song - don’t miss that.
(Updated: Detailed review on naachgaana.com here)

Chhota Chetan (1984)

Please try to get hold of the 80’s version, not the 1998 edition spiced up with bits of Urmila Matondkar and add-on Anu Malik songs. The original Malayali version is funny, adventurous, dark and engaging despite some annoying bits and pieces flying in your face to remind you that this was a 3D film. How Dilip Tahil ended up playing the drunken dad in this film, I will never figure out.

Ajooba (1991)

Peddled as an Arabian Nights like fantasy, this Indo-Russian production directed by Shashi Kapoor has magic, magicians, Sultans, animals, masked crusader, zany costumes, palaces, a naughty princess, shrinking heroes dancing in wine cups, robotic Shaitan, lost-and-found kids, dolphin foster moms, more animals, more magic and a lot more fun. If this needs any more selling, check out Memsaab’s lovely review.

Makdee (2002)

Vishal Bharadwaj’s masterful direction and superb performances by Shabana Azmi and Shweta Prasad to a script packed with very believable characters - even the witch seems very plausible in the context of the film - make for an exciting and scary tale. I loved Makrand Deshpande in this one, but most importantly, Shweta in a dual role really steals the show. For that matter, when was the last time we saw a kid pull off a dual role? (No, not Neetu Singh in Do Kaliyan.) Parts of the film are genuinely scary, and much of the second half is very sad, but the story never gets boring.

(Updated: Click here for Memsaab's review and here for Filmi Geek's. Also by the same blogger, a more Shabana-centred review here. There are too many good reviews out there, actually, but don't bother. Just go and watch the film.)

Mahek (2007)

I love this film for its cute little homage to To Kill a Mocking Bird (the novel, at least - yet to see the film), and its digs at what passes as children’s films in India - “hum umr mein chhote hain, aql mein nahin!” Direction by Pune’s own Kranti Kanade is straight from the heart, if a little rough around the edges. Still, the story of a 12-year-old girl trying to find herself is sweet and engaging, helped by a splendid guest appearance by Lalan Sarang as the no-nonsense Fairy Godmother. This film really deserves to be watched more. The titular role is played by Shreya Sharma, the girl from Vishal Bharadwaj’s The Blue Umbrella.

Updated:
Chamatkar (1992)


Again, children might not have been the originally intended audience for this film, but like most of Bollywood's attempts at comedy, little boys are girls are perhaps best disposed to appreciate its humor. I know this because I was 10 when my dad took me to watch Chamatkar, and I loved it. Also, while this was almost his first big screen outing* I was already a Shah Rukh Khan fan thanks to Circus, so liking the film was easy.

This film has Naseeruddin Shah in one of those mainstream roles he does to earn his bread, played with good humor and a perpetual chuckle in his voice. It also has Urmila in one of her earliest leading roles, and a young Ashutosh Gowarikar playing baddie. Most importantly, it has a fun song where a gang of girls put garish make-up on a hapless Shah Rukh, a ghost of a gangster playing Jadoo-like magical guardian angel to nice guy, catfight between Urmila and Guddi Maruti, a street magic show, the most fun-packed fashion show ever, a fate-deciding cricket match with flying cricketers (Koi Mil Gaya has much to thank this movie for), and lots of crazy fun moments with your friendly invisible ghost. Even more importantly, it has Shammi Kapoor!

P.S.

Not bothered with detailed reviews of any of the films here, will add links to good online reviews if possible.

P.P.S.

Memsaab figures rather heavily in the links here, because much of my time these days is spent browsing her amazing blog. And those are some of the best reviews of any films anywhere, so don't mind.

* Shah Rukh Khan actually got three almost simultaneous releases that year - Chamatkar, Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman and Deewana, so there wasn't really one big screen debut for him.

Padhna manaa hai

(Another angry post, sorry. It's an issue that has affected me personally for pretty long, and I wish I could muster Ashish Shakya's kind of humor about it, but here it is, what I've wanted to say for all those years.)


A piece of paper circulated by the society secretary has been lying on the dining table for some days. It contains a list of rules and regulations for people living there on rent i.e. people like me and my husband. Not surprisingly, one of the rules states that no flats or row houses in the society may be rented out to students. Because students are not fit for living in a civilised housing society full of married people and families with kids. But wait, are none of those kids students themselves? Given that most of us have spent a good two decades of our lives as students, it’s a wonder our parents didn’t throw us out of their house long ago. Or didn’t get thrown out by the other peaceful residents of the society for keeping students in their house.


No wait, you say, when nice, genteel people refuse to have ‘students’ as their neighbours, they don’t mean the good little kids who have the decency to stay back and study in their own hometown. They mean those pesky little rascals from far-flung towns and states who travel all the way down to Pune, the glorious Educational Capital, to earn their degrees. Aha! The point emerges. So these boys and girls are denied the privilege of living in my exclusive neighbourhood not because they study. The subtext is, that you are not welcome in my neighbourhood because you don’t belong here. If you’re not from this state, this city, it proves beyond any doubt that you are a dirty, smoking, drinking, meat-eating, floor-littering, garbage-hoarding, never-bathing troublemaker. Keep your filthy, outer-state feet off my driveway; we had it washed last month!

Why I don't wear a sari on International Women's Day

When all my female colleagues were mutually planning to wear saris to office the day before International Women's Day, I politely refused to participate. The first time I did this - refused to drape a sari on Women's Day, 5 years ago - I drew some flak from my then colleagues, notably my best friend who alleged that I just loved being different for the heck of it. Any other time of the year, she pointed out, I don't mind turning up for work draped in the national garment, so why not today? I'm sure my present colleagues and new friends have the same question - so here are some of my reasons. (Note: some bits of it are not very pleasant. Do not click if you are easily offended.)

Ring out the old: some ads I never want to see again

1. Zomato.com
What's with all those thappads? Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know. Thankfully, the ads are about the New Year's Eve, and the happy bells of 2012 will indeed ring them out. Sadly, that cannot be said about some of the other ads that are robbing me of my happiness.

2. goibibo.com
Again some thappads? Really guys, is the entire Indian advertising industry so totally out of ideas?

3. Snapdeal
I don't know if I'm offended by the sheer racism of depicting Yamraj as a South Indian villain or simply by how dumb and unfunny the ad is. Maybe both. Notice how all the most annoying ads are about websites? Speaking of which...

4. bestylish.com
"There is a thin line between sexy and sleazy," says Vidya Balan, who can incidentally use that line as a skipping rope. The 'sexy footwear' ad on the other hand, is far, far away from that line - and you know on which side it is.

5. 'December! December!'
Some car, I don't even remember which. Apparently they have some good deals going on in December. Thankfully, only 3 more days of watching that little kid jumping about with joy.

6. Tata Sky - Muffin!
Pregnant women are NOT dumb, annoying, unreasonable, selfish, obsessive fiends. Anyone who thinks otherwise, meet me outside my office unarmed and alone and we'll settle this like gentlemen.

And this is all the trash I'm exposed to without watching a single Hindi entertainment, movie or music channel. My mom was right. Television is bad for your brain. Man, do I miss Lalitaji!

Tu Tithe Mee - old people are not all tragic characters

Warning: This is going to be a rambling post, and incidentally it is not about Baghban. So you may skip directly to the fourth paragraph and lose out on nothing.

Whenever I hear someone talk about what a sweet, sad and touching film Baghban is, and how it makes parents reflect on their sad, imminent future, it makes me realise how little we Indians demand of our movies. Give us a kind old couple with golden hearts, a bunch of selfish kids who relentlessly mistreat them, a motley bunch of friends who help the old couple pull things together, and watch us wet our hankies. Like in many things, my dislike for Baghban stems not so much from the film itself - I think Hema Malini was looking gorgeous, and the improbability of having a teenaged granddaughter within 40 years of marriage (hastily explained in the opening scenes as a result of both Amitabh and his oldest son having married very early - what the heck?) or a man claiming to have worked 40 years in a bank which was established less than ten years before the film was made - these are all goofs that we have long forgiven Hindi cinema for.

My bias against the film comes from the fact that the story is so time-worn - I’ve seen half-a-dozen films in the Doordarshan days with similar sad tales of old people - two of them had a 40-something Rajesh Khanna play much older characters. Now there is nothing wrong in re-adapting an old plot with a new look. The thing is, Baghban adds nothing to the story by way of interpretation. The sons and daughters are all like one big, insensitive monolith. The two happy-family songs in the family at the beginning and the sudden turn-around in all the characters as soon as they learn that their old father is broke after retirement, has all the depth of a Madhur Bhandarkar film. In real life, when old parents move in with their sons and bahus after many years of both couples living independently, there always are domestic problems, conflicting lifestyles and a difficult phase of adjustment. This does not happen because either the parents or the children are bad people, but because they are different. But again, Baghban is not a psychological study, it is a Hindi film with an emotional story. And there comes the main source of my prejudice - just a few years before Baghban, there came a Marathi film called Tu Tithe Mee, whose traces are all too evident in the later Hindi film. And Tu Tithe Mee is such a gem.

Yun hota to kya hota: An alternate history - Part I

Before 10^th Century CE: Indian sub-continent is in the grip of Dark Ages, with the influencial Brahmin class holding sway over the ruling Kshatriyas and exploiting the working class people. Ancient mythological texts like Vedas, Puranas, and the epics Ramayana and Mahabharata are accessible only to Sanskrit reading Brahmins, and the common man relies solely on their interpretation for all religious and spiritual guidance, as well as more practical decisions in private and public life.

Trade relations with Europe in the West, China in the North, and the Aztec and Mayan traders from the Far East keep the economy healthy, but the poor peasants living at the bottom of social hierarchy have no share in the general prosperity.

The first jolt to the status quo came with the conquest of Arabia by African tribes around 8^th Century CE. The hostile new regime practically blocked the trade of precious fur, leather and Mediterranian herbs that had been thriving through the land route between Europe and Asia. Winters in the Rajputana deserts and Gangetic plains were unbearable without European fur.

It was however the conquest of Kabul towards the end of 9th Century that marked a new epoch in the Indian history.

Kabul had been the seat of ancient Buddhist learning since many centuries now. Scholars and monks well-versed in the original Indian Vedic texts, history, philosophy of the ancient saints as well as the teachings of Gautam Buddha, had thrived and prospered in this cultural hub. They ran schools and universities which through the centuries had nurtured Chinese scholars, Muslim poets and philosophers, and Indian princes. The reputation of these universities and the cosmopolitan mix of students they attracted, had given Kabul its unique identity as a cultural melting pot and a very prosperous international city.

Now, with Kabul under the grip of the hedonistic African tribes, the rich foreign students stopped pouring into the city. Consequently, the universities started crumbling and the Buddhist scholars began considering the lavish offers from Indian royal families that had long been trying to lull these masters to tutor their clans.

The return of the Buddhist scholars brought about an intellectual and cultural revolution in the decadent Indian society. These masters, rejecting the existing social hierarchy, set up educational Gurukuls in the midst of the most populous cities. These Gurukuls were open to anyone who wished to learn and was able to either pay or serve the school. Education became gradually more accessible to the masses. Sons of peasants began questioning the hitherto uncontested authority of temple Brahmins.

The Indian Renaissance had begun.