Within / Without

Hope 2010 is going well for you so far.

Angry young woman that I am, the mention of Slumdog Millionaire gets my goat on most days. I think it’s a decent, engaging film, and have sat through it more than once. But the moment somebody feels that they know anything about Bollywood, Indian Cinema or India because they like the film, I get a little livid. Slums are a big part of Indian reality/ realty. Poverty exists. But so do many other things. By all means, make films, documentaries and the rest about slums, but a little something else isn’t bad?

Channel 4 and other channels annoy me a bit on this matter. Either they cover the absolute wealth of rich Indians who have 5000 guests for their weddings, or the blinding poverty of slums/ rural India. Yes, it’s a country of contrasts, and extremes makes for better television, but some people have found interesting ways of talking about India without launching into eye watering tales of grim childhoods.

Indian Winter on Channel 4 has this note

Channel 4 brings together the very best film, drama, features and factual programming in early 2010 in a season that celebrates India, exploring its rich culture, culinary traditions and the human stories that shape one of the world’s most diverse and captivating countries.

Of the six programmes, four are somehow or the other based on slums. And the one film is Om Shanti Om. Ugh.

Posted on January 6th, 2010 by Neha Viswanathan
Filed under: India, Media, UK | 13 Comments »

Meh. That’s my first reaction. I guess the ‘noise’ around the film was so high that expectations went higher still.

Yes, Paanch was a debut film for Anurag Kashyap. And I am a BIG BIG FAN of his now. But even as an early film, it feels a bit amateur. I’ve seen rave reviews about the plot, and the pace. I couldn’t really find a plot, and the pace was too slow for me.

Maybe in 2002, when I was a cheeky 20 years old this would have really affected me. But I knew junkies, groupies and wannabe stars. I knew the kids who refused to shower. Or dozed high on Led Zep. Hell, I was one of them. And I’ve seen a variety. Like the kinds that goes out looking like a ‘good boy’, and whips out a ‘bandana’ (all the bloody rage then) and strums a heavily out-dated metallica song. Yup. Seen them. Seen worse. But where did these chaps come from?

I don’t want background stories. When I saw Deathproof, I sank deep in the violence and evil, without wanting to know if the guy who went about killing women in cars had a bad childhood. No, I don’t want any of that. But it’s a film without a narrator. Surely, it doesn’t hurt to show the protagonist for a few minutes. Utterly alone. So you know him.

It’s an interesting concept, but without depth. Too linear. A bunch of guys in a ‘rock band’. One girl. Need money badly. To fuel drugs, life and everything illegal. A complete lack of respect for anything. And a great love to live in filth. And in that sense, it is interesting. The lack of morality, and the ability to sit in one place for two weeks without doing anything constructive. But the relationships between the people are hardly explored. There’s nothing about music as the context. Nothing about a sense of alienation that someone that young can experience.

Pity it was banned, because there isn’t much to ban. But if it had been released when it should have been, it would have splashed and made some loud noise. Especially of disapproval. And how quickly cinema can age. Even as it is timeless. How easily the norms for sexuality, boozing, and filthy young men shift. It’s not that things have changed all that much, but we’ve seen more of it on the screen now. It’s just not as special as before.

In 2002, I would have been dazzled. Now I was mildly bored and grateful that the director has evolved and given us some brilliant hours of cinema over the years. (Or was it 2003? One is never really sure!)

Watch it, if anything – be amazed at how bold the venture is given the context of the films around that time. We thought Dil Chahta Hai was bold. Heh.

Posted on December 17th, 2009 by Neha Viswanathan
Filed under: Music, Film and Art | 3 Comments »

I’ve been watching too many films. The unusual thing is that most of them have been good. I know it’s strange. But it’s a lucky streak.

Mary and Max is one of the sweetest films I’ve seen in a long time. Two brilliantly etched characters – living rather far from each other, and so different in every way. An age difference of about 36 years. Both lonely and introspective. With such dark humour and such compassion for both. Here’s a nice long meaty trailer.

Mary’s character is brilliant. At 8, she’s everything that a kid often is. Confused, miserable, happy, delighted by tiny things, lonely and chatty. And she grows up into something not quite that lovable. Yet, she’s wonderful in her own way, as you discover. Your empathy for her never strays because you’ve seen her as a young child.

Maybe that’s true for life in general. People I’ve known as children, I have more compassion for them. As though in my head, they remain helpless lumps of baby fat and stubby limbs.

Max is exactly the character who would exasperate you in real life because you have no idea why he behaves the way he does, you have no access to the way his mind works. Why he says what he does. His inability to relate to other people, or understand facial expressions. In the film though, you see him through his eyes, and hers. Like I said, brilliant film. Watch. ASAP.

One of the striking features of the film is that it’s based on Claymation – a sort of stop motion animation. It has a certain effect that ordinary animation doesn’t appear to have. For one thing, since there is so much depth in the frame, you stop thinking of them as ‘cartoon’ figures. And yet, their anguish and joy can be over the top as required.

On that note – anyone remember Pingu? The same Claymation stuff at work here. Here’s a bit of Pingu that was censored apparently.

Posted on November 25th, 2009 by Neha Viswanathan
Filed under: Music, Film and Art | 3 Comments »