Sunday, May 1, 2011

HELPLESS IN HINTERLAND



Most films have some sort of an ending. By some sort I mean to say that a films ending can be predicted from its first frame, but the director and the writers employ different methods to not to give away what the ending is.
But Tanu Weds Manu spells out the entire story along with the ending in its title, it would be interesting if other filmmakers have done the same, giving us the opportunity to know the ending by the title we would never have walked up to the counter to buy a ticket.
People with nostalgia always have the upper hand when it comes to creation, here director Anand Rai employs the remembrance of classic Hindi film music as a non continuous theme. The protagonist Manu Sharma is seen hearing to Mohd Rafi songs craving to see the face of his lady love in the moon when his trusted side kick asks him as to how he keeps listening to songs of yore even after spending more than a decade in London. The music doesn’t stop there, even while playing antakshari in one of the pre wedding night games they sing the Hum Dono classic ‘abhi na jao chodkar’ in almost poetic concurrence if you don’t mind the real life voice of Kangana Ranaut, elsewhere the heroine remembers a steaming hot Sridevi number in similar circumstances.
The reasons I have always wondered for such personal choices have not always been a peep into the tastes of the director but a sort of sharing with the audience which also takes them back to their remembrances, whatever song or incident. Sometime during the course of such an experience we tend to migrate to our own life and forget screen happenings, this brings personal connection between the story teller and the listener; young boys and girls (or once boys and girls) might recall that old people often have the protagonists as young boys/girls to bring the audience into the story.
In the case of Tanu Weds Manu, this is hardly a problem because the movie is about Indian weddings, a theme visited and revisited over the decades. But it works, it has been sometime since I did watch a movie with a constant smile on my face and it reminded me of Mouna Ragam for a good part of the first half, the characterization of the lead being polar opposites and the supporting cast at their witty best.
Then the film somehow goes downhill, what started out as a brilliant first half with lines like “where do these people come from, these London returns” falls into the vicious circle of a love triangle ( see how cleverly I have used two shapes in one sentence, mother I am improving!) with the introduction of a gun clasping riotous gangster cum ex-lover Shiney Ahuja as Raja.
The lead characters then become helpless in their respective circles, Madhavan as Manu is unable to express his love, while Manu is helpless in forgoing her free spirit attitude towards life and the story becomes helplessly helpless. But apart from all this Tanu Weds Manu retains its core Indian urban and  suburban-ness, which is not something which is derived but something which comes naturally to the director and appends charm, that is why I think the movie is sweet and I am willing to see beyond the faults. So what if we know the ending?

Monday, March 28, 2011

Brand Ambassador Murali


Being the further of Hanuman Murali and friends
That Sunday was not going quite well, I could look up and the sun was everywhere, it meant two things. One obvious thing is summer and the other meant outdoor assignments.

This particular assignment had me tracking down the purchasing power of those in the city who frequented the jewel shops, it was no mean task. What began as a plain article involving statistics evolved into something 
which delved deep in the psychology of the people.

“Why did people buy gold in the first place?” I asked one of the small shop owners, he thought for a moment before saying “Because bhaiyya it is golden” he then laughed for quite a while, thinking very highly of his humor. I tried to keep up a smiling face, such things come with the job. Later I dropped the idea of a survey and thought of using the methods of iteration in arriving at the answer.
Moments later, I put down my pen and strolled down for coffee.
It was only during this time, that I received a call from Murali; he seemed cheerful than usual. The reason being he was filming again, he had finally landed himself an acting part and this time it was not for some mildly un-popular mythological television series but as a brand ambassador for a decent brand of cement.

 Starbright studios, which was not far from the Jazz office and I had pretty much given up on jewels and my legs naturally found my way there.
Meru Cement was not exactly well known, but people down south could identify themselves with the distinctive mountain logo and the sun orbiting it. As to how Murali was chosen as the brand ambassador is still unknown to 
me, but that doesn’t really matter.

Murali was there, in the chair usually reserved for super stars. He was in his element, talking to people around him as to how the studio looked many many years back; he acknowledged my presence by the raise of an eyebrow.
The director was a tense man and I knew him, I befriended nervous men and women easily. The whole set up kind of inherited the nervousness of the director, who later told me that the shooting was a hush-hush job.

The scene was simple, Murali dressed as Hanuman is supposed to be holding the Meru Cement sack instead of the Sanjivini parvat, this according to the director would instill faith in the minds of the people, as they associated hanuman with strength. A quality much desired in cements.

There was also another minor actor, who usually played the extra marital lover in Tamil serials dressed to be viewed as an engineer, his words again were around strength and trust, if not for visuals the ad might have been mistaken for a life insurance campaign, the high point of the shooting was that I was offered special tea and was offered a place near Murali.

Murali in full costume looked very much like Hanuman or at least’s the public’s perception as to how Hanuman would have looked, I have known frame artists who have used him as a model in their works.
“I could be the next Mr. McDonalds, you know” he said with some pride. “That’s Ronald Mcdonald for you, Murali” I tried to correct him.
He waved his hand in irritation, “you journalists are so entangled in names and facts, and it doesn’t matter. You clearly knew whom I was referring to”
This is the same Murali who walked five furlongs to the Madras Star office in Mylapore and threatened them to issue an apology for misprinting his age as 42, he was only 41 during the event had happened and I clearly remember walking all those five furlongs with him. But I never said a word more, even if I had there was no chance that it could be heard.

It was an attack! It was utter chaos! It was the MMF!

I looked back in the general direction of the noise, atleast forty people were running towards the spot. Even the mental question as to where the bloody watchman was, was answered by the old man being carried by the crowd. He was mouthing ‘Ayyo, ayyo’

The MMF was formed exactly 12 days before, it stood for Murder Meru Force and it meant business. The Meru cement factory which had come up rather abruptly in a Madras suburb and had ruined a small stream in the area, the existence of such a stream came to the limelight only after this outbreak, few people had died.

The MMF, apart from the fact that it had a campy name plunged into action, by breaking down billboards and burning posters of the cement company, much to the displeasure of the investors and to the entertainment of those who watched the afternoon news. I belonged to the happy party and I immediately recognized the seriousness of the happenings around me. Murali was not quite sharp, but he seemed to have picked it up minutes later.
The crowd somehow made order, a small man in the front with the tens of his followers waiting for that one word which could instigate a minor battle which the crumbling studio was not prepared for, it was a battle even the most flourishing of studios would surely be un- prepared for.

An uneasy silence prevailed, if you still didn’t count the non periodical wails of the hurled down watchman, no one showed him any care.
If it had been the time of Jesus Christ, there would have been a possibility of some sort of negotiation, but it was the time of Mafia Wars. Someone who was afraid to lead the group, but couldn’t enough of the action shouted in Tamil, “Even after our warnings, you continue to shoot for Meru cement! Daaaiiiiiii!!!!”
Daaaiiiiii!!! Became the war cry, I didn’t move, I didn’t even think about it; when the speed of action around you is unimaginable the brain and the motor nerves go on a short holiday.
They weren’t after us, it was only the equipment that faced the brutality of the thirty three people and the old studio floor came to the ground. I didn’t even realize how ironical that statement sounded in my head.
By now some big names of the electronic media had arrived, they began transmitting headlines such as ‘Mob demolishes historic studio’ and a t-shirt clad lady newspaper was making almost the same amount of noise as the mob inside, meanwhile I looked for Murali.
He arose from the fallen asbestos, he was mouthing something I was sure, but couldn’t make out because of his mask. I whisked him away from all the happenings and took an auto back home.

The late evening news had a different story to tell, some wise reporter had shot some footage of Murali coming out of the story, the news channel now had the headline “Mysterious Monkey Man behind studio attack” and what followed was a blurred video of a visually shaken man in full costume and the head was circled using red markers to highlight the same.
I immediately called the media office and explained to them the truth and was part of the changing news, the screen now said “Mystery monkey-man Identity revealed.” Disillusioned, I kept the receiver down. Murali while rubbing his wounds “you people never get anything right”

He was right,partially.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

STARDUST MEMORIES#4


Harry Brown begins with effective scenes showing the mundane life of a retired marine who is in the twilight of his life, his routine includes playing chess and meeting up with another old man in a local pub. But all this is threatened when Harry Brown decides to clean his neigbourhood of the hoods and drug mafia. Michael Caine plays the ageing veteran, the film is definitely a treat to Caine fans; the movie falls into the vigilante genre and has been compared to Gran Torino. Emily Mortimer abandons her chirpiness in playing a serious detective. I liked it.

Jude Law and Gwyneth Paltrow undertake a long and winding adventure in search of an evil doctor who predictably tries to destroy the whole world. Interestingly in Kevin Conran’s Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, the scheming doctor Totenkopf is played by Sir Laurence Olivier some 14 years after his death. The whole film is a tribute to the adventure genre and the films of yore, the tone resembling the forties science fiction films and an example of the west’s fixation with everything Tibet (Snowy mountains, secret passes and monasteries with silent monks and cloud covered air bases). And before I forget Angelina Jolie drops in (literally) sometime before the end,

As it is, the concept of a sequel is a very stressful one, imagine if the film you are to continue is the Silence of the Lambs; no ordinary task. Ridley Scott’s Hannibal takes of ten years after Silence…with Antony Hopkins returning to his famed role of Hannibal Lecter. Looking at Hannibal as a standalone film, it scores high points in an entertainment audit, what I personally thought was that Demme’s Silence was more about Clarice Starling than the man-eating classics teaching psychologist. Lesser the Lecter, the better. Julianne Moore creditably fills the large void left by Jodie Foster and unearths a different Starling, interesting thriller but lacks the greatness.


Thursday, February 24, 2011

STARDUST MEMORIES #3


If I say that the past week was filled with madness, I would not be exaggerating. I do not know if this was planned or anything, consecutive releases in Tamil have been about insanity and both movies represent the psychological ramifications of insanity.
In Nadunisi Naygal, Veera plays a sexually abused kid who later transforms into a sexual predator, killing women by the whim. We never really get to understand how this transformation takes place, but it can be argued that madness knows no reason.
In Gautam Vasudev Menon’s latest offering where he sincerely tries to go beyond accustomed film-making by letting debutantes play lead characters and in the absence of music, the theme which may make people in the seats close their eyes and draw up their legs is not something new to this cinema, but still we flinch.
Nadunisi Naygal follows regular psycho drama, close up of killer; that wry smile, pauses between words and killer taking pride in his killings. I thought the lead actor was irritating, I lost the movie from then on and added to this fact that I had no one to root for, no lover of the troubled; no stoic policeman absolutely nobody. He film is in other words the case file of the sexual predator which was only so-so( so-so can be used whenever I am at loss of words).The 'poetic' voice over by the lead makes the movie more contrived and lacking in suspense.
Nadunisi Naygal makes Yuddham Sei look like a masterpiece, what I mean to say is the my respect for the Mysskin film went up by considerable blocks and there is no need for me to mention that the film(YS) has a standing on its own right.
Madness is quite different in the other side of the world, in ‘The Killer inside Me’ Casey Affleck plays a tormented deputy Sherriff in small town America, the movie adapted from writer Jim Thomson’s novel of the same name deals with sexual perversion coupled with Sadomasochism, but that’s not all the movies goes further in interpolating the psyche of Lou Ford (Casey Affleck) about what is sane and insane, the movie makes an interesting watch with Jessica Alba, Kate Hudson and Simon Baker playing supporting roles. The Killer inside may not be suitable for certain viewers, parental guidance is advised.

I am personally apprehensive at the story of the madman, it’s not that their story should be left untold; it’s only that I would prefer something lighter. Judgment reserved.