Within / Without

I went in, desperately wanting to like My Name Is Khan. I came out with a sense of relief. That the film was over, and that I could go home and drown my brain in the mental equivalent of a mouthwash.

The first half of this film was sweet, moving. It’s got these random breezy moments that make you sit back a bit and take it all in. Usually when SRK is in any film, they give him a name that is easily forgotten or is so vague that you constantly think of the character as SRK’s role. But here – the protagonist Rizvan Khan is a bit bigger than SRK. Which is welcome. No arms-stretched-in-Chipko-Andolan poses in song sequences.

Kajol is alright, just that she comes across as so LOUD when she’s trying to play the ’sweet woman’. It’s only when her role has shades of anger and despair that you actually enjoy her on screen. The supporting cast is really great in parts, and you don’t really miss SRK on the scene when they are around.

All this said, the second half is tedious. Not because it is political. This is a story that could have been told differently, without making supermen of mortals, and without caricaturing every white, black and brown person on the planet. (Cue: Black overweight women love to hug, insist on feeding you and are full of maternal instincts. White man very bad and seemingly incapable of seeing through propaganda.)

There are some particularly cringeworthy moments. (I shall never be able to listen to Saare Jahan Se Accha again without feeling like I should be banging my head on a hard surface.) I found myself shrinking in my seat as I cringed further at some other points. Like SRK wading into a hurricane hit area.

But more than cringeworthy, the worst crime a film can commit is that of being boring. I was bored to death in the last one hour. I knew exactly where the story was going, even though I hadn’t read any spoilers. But even predictable stories can be fascinating. And this one wasn’t. Every scene in the last hour becomes one cheesy bit after another.

Here was a story, which could have been a compelling one. Essentially you take the element of pragmatism out of a person, and make him respond to his urges in the most literal sense. This could have been a journey across the US, a road trip almost (this is beginning to sound like Borat now) – which it does try to be in some parts and revealing parts of the US usually left unexplored in Bollywood. Instead, you try and make a hero out of SRK, because the idea that you deviate from the usual formula is a bit much.

Here’s the complicated bit. A lot of us want to support the film because of the giant mess around it. Though watching NDTV’s coverage, I feel like nothing else is happening in the country, except the release of the film. I don’t like the film, but even average/ bad/ somewhat alright films have the right to be shown, and get their audience.

Posted on February 12th, 2010 by Neha Viswanathan
Filed under: Music, Film and Art | 7 Comments »

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 »