Give me back my shoe

Once, I was stuck in uptown Vegas without a cab and had to hitch my way back to the city. Unfortunately for me, the chap who offered me a ride was a pimp. For the 20 odd minutes that I spent in his 'bling' car, I dont think he finished a single sentence without mentioning his 'bunch' and how I should give him a call sometime.

I am often reminded of him this month, thanks to this hilarious news channel called CNN IBN. It is about time someone recognized IBN's efforts in the genres of comic humour and a weird kind of media prostitution. Lemme explain:  

In IBN speak, when terrorists attack Mumbai, you have to call it "India's 9/11" (dd/mm mismatch notwithstanding!)

When the Mumbai police arrests a father for raping his daughter, he has to be referred to as "India's Josef Fritz"

And when Janrail singh throws a shoe at Chidambaram......you guessed it - "Shoe-gate!!!!!!"

Am not sure if Nixon is gonna turn in his grave for that, but I definitely think this is unfair. Come on....after spending an insane amount on a flat screen TV and a Tata Sky package with 'news', the least I deserve is my own personal, national shoe incident! No?

Attack of the 'Adigaprasangi' Kids

Run for cover! They are everywhere - these perfectly normal looking 3-5 year olds, who have been spotted telling on their moms through a toy phone, offering life insurance advice to dads, washing tips to moms and switching on stadium lights to fool an apartment full of parents, among other things.

Phew! whatever happened to good old bikini-model style advertising? Does anybody hear me?

The spectacle spectacle!

'Hey Ram' is one of the finest films ever made in India. More than the beautifully layered script or the fantastic shots, what really hits you is the honesty of that script. The movie ends with the protagonist picking up Gandhi's glasses and sandals after he is shot, which his grandson gives to Tushar Gandhi in the last scene. A beautifully fictitious ending that is almost poetic. It was also not very far from reality.

In the 1930s, Gandhi gifted his glasses to an Indian army colonel. His 1910 Zenith watch went to his grand niece and his sandals were gifted to a British army officer in 1931, before the London talks. In the last 79 odd years, no Tom Dick Harry or Anne Susan Mary gave a rat's ass about the location of these memorabilia. 

Like all memorabilia do, they reached the hands of a collector who wanted to auction it (Except in this case, the guy - James Otis is a dickhead). News breaks out about the auction and all of a sudden, blood is boiling, people are disturbed, patriotism reaches feverish proportion and everybody wants the auction stopped. In what fuckin joy ? If not for the piece of news in BBC, would any of these self proclaimed patriotic psychos even know about the existence of these things? I dont think so. And pray tell what is so wrong with any of this being auctioned anyway? Its an auction - a place where people 'value' stuff. Far cry from the godforsaken museums back home.

And did I mention James Otis is a dickhead? The joker actually has the balls to go on record asking the Indian Government to serve its 'poor' people in return for his stupendous kindness in giving the stuff back for free. And the neurotic Indian news channels dont get it. They keep interviewing the jackass for his demented sound bytes.

Enter Mallya. The dude walks in, bids the bid, closes the lid on the damn thing and gets the PR that he righfully deserves.  What do the rest of them have to say now? The government is stumped - its completely ineffective and unimaginative effort has been exposed. Ambika soni is looking for a calm place to bury her head. And the know-it-all Mr. Ramachandra Guha is busy telling television stations that it is a shame that a liqor baron had to save the teetotalling 'Mahatma's' belongings. Fuck you.

All I have to say in the matter is this: Every buck that I have spent in this lifetime on countless kingfisher pints, is money well spent! Somebody pat me!! 

....and cheers to that ;)

the unsaid

Dileep was born a hindu. He converts to Islam, bags an academy award and says glory be to god.

Resul is a muslim. Talks about the significance of 'OM' in his acceptance speech and says on TV that his award is a 'Mahashivarathiri' gift to all malayalees.

Jai Ho, India ;)

Dog days

You know the feeling when you suppress something for an awfully long time and eventually let go? No am not talking about Ramalinga Raju, but my December and January. 4 intriguing films, an entire concert season and 3 weeks on Mumbai and Delhi roads meant there were tonnes to tell....but its amazing how awfully hard it is to get the internet, time and 'state of mind' - all in the same room, so you can write the hell out of it.  Nevertheless, its good to be back!

There is a scene in Slumdog, where the boys look through the key hole of the brothel room and see young Latika's torso twirling to a kathak movement,  illuminated by a thin light beam.  At that instant, it hit me that Boyle has crossed the rather thick line between 'a film on India' and 'an Indian film'.

Its amazing how a film with lines as cheesy as "I thought we will meet only at death", "I love you....so what?", "the slumdog barks", "is this heaven" and "my enemy's enemy is my friend" actually made it to so many festivals and awards (the red carpet has been rolled out at the kodak theatre as I write).  But when you really think about it, it is quite a smart film. 

'Subtitle' is among the worst things that ever happened to cinema (just behind George Clooney as Batman) and Danny gave it an interesting twist in Slumdog when he decided to have it beside the character and not at the bottom of the screen - its traditional home, where for decades it has been stealing viewers' eyeballs from beautiful frames. Its a small and stupid thing, but boy it worked.

'City of God', 'Amores Perros' and 'Malena' were in the native tongue. The characters did not have an accent and nobody found it odd in Latin America. They were landmarks in cinematic history, but more people would watch Slumdog Millionaire.

'Salaam Bombay' or 'City of Joy' would never make it to any list of popular films, though they are essentially the same DNA as slumdog. Only that Boyle decided to almost make it a series of music videos on arguably Rahman's most neo and experimental album till date. The opening police chase, the escape, the brilliantly shot train sequence....nice!

The rioters are on the other side of the railway platform and the kids are playing in the water. It is a shot from Jamal's POV as the boy plunges into the water and gets up. As he rises, the audio goes muffled like as though water went into the ears of the camera. Resul deserves a sound oscar just for those 15 seconds!

I saw another film on the underbelly of India last week, called 'Naan Kadavul' (That one needs a blog by itself). More morbid, more disturbing and even more honest. It had real people and not actors, but the tone was so mellowed down that it did not really get you out there. Whereas with SM, you could almost feel the heat and the dust. May be rightfully enough, they have just handed over the best cinematography oscar to it. Just that I cannot believe that an effort like Dark Knight would miss out....IMAX and all ;)

But the lasting image for me from the film, more than a month after seeing it is the frame of  Rubina Ali....dusty, sweaty and heavenly, under a sodium vapour lamp.