Barfi Murphy Shmarfi

In the new Barfi song, they say Barfi's Amma wanted a baby like a Murphy Munna:

Who'd grow up to be this guy:

But instead, she got this:

Who grew up to be this guy:

Sad, very sad indeed.

Winning the comeback

Back in the early 90s, three actresses - Sridevi, Juhi Chawla and Madhuri Dixit were in a kind of tussle for the top that the Kareenas and Katrinas today can never dream of. There were other girls in the game, but none in the league of these three. Every new release from one of the three leading ladies would be a game changer. This was of course before Hum Aapke Hain Kaun happened to put a definitive end to the debate. A year later came Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, putting a new player in the game - Kajol. But by that time the Dixit was too big a force to be threatened by the dusky little girl.

Don’t get me wrong, fans of Raveena, Karishma, Urmila and other 90s girls. Many of them have done good films and memorable roles, but this was a time when the word ‘status’ would be routinely used in conjunction with Sridevi. Of course, stardom is never permanent, and for our heroines it is even more transient. By ’97, Madhuri’s fading career was temporarily redeemed by Dil To Paagal Hai before she wisely tiptoed out of the limelight to enjoy domestic bliss; Juhi Chawla was still a bankable name on the box office; but Sridevi, following the death of her mother and marriage to Boney Kapoor, went out with a bang that was Judaai. While Madhuri went on a hiatus, returning to do a Devdaas and later Aaja Nach Le, Juhi gracefully (whether voluntarily or not) slid into performance-oriented roles befitting her age, Sridevi went out like a star.

Now, two decades since the peak of their box-office wars, it is pleasant to see all three ladies still very much around, though in very different versions.

If some tabloids are to be believed, Madhuri Dixit is trying hard to convince everyone - and herself - that she is still Madhuri Dixit. The lady is reportedly demanding the same respect (and pay packages) as actresses who weren’t born when Tezaab was released. In her last movie Aaja Nach Le, she tried to do a slightly aged version of her most beloved screen self, even adding plot details to accommodate her real-life sojourn in the States, but audiences did not buy it. For reasons best known to herself and her family, she has decided to come back to India for good. You don’t need to read the papers to know that she’s back - you find her ubiquitous smile in departmental stores selling fabric softeners and dishwashers, on hoardings, on TV shows and commercials, using her acting chops and her expressive dancer’s face to sell toothpaste. Time will tell if all this whipped up frenzy can translate to box office returns when her Gulabi Gang and Dedh Ishqiya are eventually released, but speaking strictly for myself, I’m not holding my breath.

Juhi Chawla was always my most favourite. I always voted for her in all popularity polls that pitted her against the Dixit and the Devi (and there were many). When offers got reduced to a trickle, she took the odd film still coming her way and played her roles with élan. Along the way, she got to sink her teeth into meaty, gritty roles like the one in Teen Deewarein and the more recent I Am. Like Asha Parekh and Nanda before her, she has gradually been relegated to bhabhi roles in the majority of her projects. I don’t know if Juhi Chawla the star is satisfied with her place in the industry today, but as a loyal fan, I am more than satisfied to spot my favourite star breathing life and spunk into some otherwise forgettable movies.

And along came Sridevi. If a trailer can really tell you anything about a movie, English Vinglish is going to kick ass. Sri’s vulnerable South Indian housewife act seems to be spot on - the role rests equally on the star persona, her considerable (and mostly underused) acting ability and her real roots so that the character may come across as believable rather than grating. Whether the film lives up to its premise remains to be seen, but as far as comebacks go, Sridevi has played a masterstroke in her choice of a role.

I doubt any actress today can touch the level of stardom the three queens of the 90s enjoyed at the peak of their careers. In the years following their stardom however, they have each played a different game with differing results. Juhi made a smooth transition from star to actress, creating a new post-stardom brand that stands for a guaranteed good performance. Madhuri went out like a star and is trying to come back like one. What really sets Sridevi apart in this context is that she went out like a star and is coming back as an actress. I just can’t wait to watch her perform.

P.S. My starting point here is the year 93-94. Sridevi had already given some of her greatest hits before that time, so this kind of comparison may be fundamentally misplaced. She is also about 4 years older than the other two and entered the industry much younger. Even so, her box office mojo was anything but diminished by the 90's. Kajol at the peak of her career once said in an interview that there have been no stars since the days of Amitabh Bacchan and Sridevi.

How to make a 'hatke' love story

Make a list of all your favourite rom-com tropes:

• Hero-heroine meet cute: check
• Contrasting personalities: check
• A series of coincidences keep them bumping into each other: check
• One of the meetings involves a party or meeting full of whacky people gone bizarrely violent: twice check
• Neither of the two have a pair of parents intact: check
• One of the living parents objects to the match: check
• Said living parent is a loony wretch: check
• One amicable and understanding grandparent: check
• One amicable and understanding aunt: check
• One tragic backstory entailing familial responsibilities: check
• Hero helps heroine shoulder the said responsibility: check
• Hero has his special place to go when he is sad: check
• Hero-heroine almost kiss at the said special place: check
• Hero happens to strum the guitar pretty decently: check
• One friendly gesture misunderstood as invitation: check
• Disapproving mom humiliates girl: check
• One misunderstanding: check
• Hero-heroine pine and cry: check
• Friendly aunty talks sense into the girl: check
• Family attempts to fix up the guy with another girl: check
• Said girl has a boyfriend: check
• Emotional outburst and please-let-me-be-I'm-breaking-free-of-lifelong-shackles-and-it-feels-like-an-orgasm speech in front of the whole khandaan: check
• Attempt to go back to the girl gets botched up by interfering neighbours: check
• Touching confession/make-up speech: check
• Weddings: twice check

Now that you have used all the cliches that have only been used, like, in every romcom ever made anywhere, how do you make yours stand out? Oh, here's an idea: let's have a guy and girl from a 'different' community, say Parsi. Most Indians don't know that Parsis fall in love too, so that will be pretty entertaining. Now change some insignificant details about your guy and girl - how about the guy has an embarrassing job, a scooter with side-car, some gimmicky casting for the leading lady and oh, the guy and girl are about two decades older than those in most stories!

Never mind character development, thinking about how a blossoming romance between two 40+ people would differ in some fundamental ways than that between two teenagers. Never mind doing things differently because your lead pair is different. The guy can keep reminding the audience that he is 45. Never mind making your characters sane, believable and having them act their age. They're 45, they look 45, and your movie can be promoted on the strength that it is different, because look! THE LEAD PAIR IS 45 AND THEY ARE BOTH PARSI!

All the humor can be derived from the fact that these are two 45-year-old Parsis doing everything befitting a pair of 25-year-old Punjabis. If the audience still don't get the joke, lets have the leads strut their stuff dressed up like some of our most beloved on-screen romantic pairs.

Now sit back and enjoy the accolade.

In defense of the unkempt housewife

Note: This isn't a tirade against a single blog or a writer, but about the general condescending attitude we often have towards the Indian housewife. I use the term 'housewife' rather loosely, to cover so-called career women whose duties at home are not modified in consideration of their financial contribution or demanding schedules. Also, I am not one of those women - I've been fortunate enough to marry into the most supportive family that respects me for what I do, and counting my blessings only heightens the anguish I feel on behalf of the millions of women who aren't as lucky.

About a month ago, Firstpost did this sarcastic little piece on the ubiquitous sight of Indian women in shapeless nightgowns, sometimes simply referred to as 'gown' in all private and public places. It was all very funny, and we've all got some horror stories of women popping up in their most hideous cotton wear in the most inappropriate spaces. Then I read on, and followed the link to a blog that elevates the humble nightie to the status of a menace, and while I still agree it is inappropriate to flaunt your nightclothes in any place other than your bedroom, I wish the high and mighty of women's attire would at least spare those poor middle-class ladies who are just minding their own business.

And then some statements went right on to peck on my nerves: 

"...only those women who “never care about what others feel or see about them” wear them. Some even think that such women are “sheer lazy or perhaps don’t care types”."

“It’s like they're not really bothered about their appearance, because I guess it’s not their priority… And I don’t see the purpose of the dupatta that they wear with the nightie though,” a friend quipped, while another said: “I feel like buying them some clothes… seriously.”

Really? You wanna buy some clothes for them? How awfully generous of you, it really warms the cockles of my heart, my dear gentleman. While at it, could you please also buy them washing machines, dishwashers, cars, and maybe more lucrative jobs for their husbands so the wives may hire some help and not have to single-handedly do all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, dropping kids to school in the wee hours of the morning? And these are not just the stay-at-home housewives.

While Indian culture has progressed enough to allow women the privilege to have jobs and careers, this privilege or freedom for most women just means having to slog 8 hours outside the home and 8 hours inside. So while they are supporting the husband by sharing the financial burden, in many households it is criminal to expect the husband to help out with the housework. A very good friend of mine who is a doctor married to a doctor (and her husband is one of the most supportive men I know), once remarked that she feels uncomfortable asking the husband to help out with the kids, because "that's not the way we're brought up".

My own experience with prospective life partners (back in the dark, dark days when I was past 25 and still single) ranged from amusing to frustrating, as man after unevolved man directly or indirectly hinted that after marriage, I'd be allowed to work, provided the furniture and curtains of the house don't become dusty, neglected victims of my monstrous ambitions. Of course I married the guy who'll eat cereal if I don't get time to fix breakfast.

Most women I know, don't have that choice. Whether they have jobs or not, many married women don't have a life, not at least in the way I know it. I rarely hear a lunchroom conversation where the husband, the in-laws, the kids, upcoming festivals and weddings, and near and distant relatives of all shapes and sizes don't pop up once - because even though many of us now live in nuclear families, life for many women still revolves around family and little else. Movies are functional entertainment only, and books are a luxury, not because they're expensive, but who has the time?

Indian men are among the most spoiled sub-species of the human race, and I know guys who literally will not get up and get their own glass of water. I once had an argument with a male colleague who never rinsed his coffee cup in office, which would make it easier for the maid to clean them. He gave some thought to the matter, and ultimately refused to change the habit. Very few men I know ever offer to take their own plate to the sink. I cannot imagine the plight of the woman who has to play Nirupa Roy to these lazy bums, lay out their breakfast and pack their lunch while they smoothen their hair and read the morning's paper, then run out with a basket at the sabziwallah's call, haggle over the price of bhindi, then rush in and scream at the older kid still in his/her pajamas, shake the younger one out of bed and brush his/her teeth, force feed them both and drag them to school on a two-wheeler. Once everybody else has left, she may finally take a shower (unless it's a traditional household where you can't enter the kitchen without a bath, in which case the wife has to get up before 6 to make it all possible) and dress for work. Oh yes, there is still work, where she might walk in on a conversation about how female employees are always tardy. I've not even introduced judgemental in-laws to the scene yet.

But apparently, tending to all these people is not enough, and now the same women must also answer to the aesthetic sense of the Maya Sarabhai's of the world. Never mind that Indian women are among the most anemic in the world. Never mind that many of the fat aunties you see buying vegetables in their nighties would happily trade their quality time at the grocer's for an hour of Yoga, if someone just let them. Sadly, the only me-time they'll get is at the monthly waxing trip to the neighborhood beautician, followed by someone clucking their tongue and commenting on how these modern women will bankrupt their husbands over their own vanity.

I do not endorse the family-before-myself mindset in Indian women, and wish they'd instead invest some time to teach their husbands and sons some manners. Now these same regressive values are reinforced through many of our TV shows. Yet, it is not difficult to see why these dumb shows strike a cord with their intended demographic - the women on screen are just nicely decorated versions of the average Indian housewife, who was never asked if she wants to slog her life in kitchen or if she'd rather work in an office and have her food laid on the table and her clothes cleaned and ironed for her. It must be nice to see those pretty ladies spell out the virtues of the ordinary woman. That's probably the only appreciation they'll ever get.

So yes, a lot of Indian women on the streets aren't very elegant dressers, nor do they have the most eclectic choice in entertainment. In fact, most have stopped caring about what anybody thinks of them. Wouldn't you, if you had their life?

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!