Labouring their life away... (Asha Jaoar Majhe, 2014)

Have you watched Singeetam Srinivasa Rao’s National Award winning 1987 film Pushpaka Vimana? In case you haven’t I suggest you do it pronto. It’s a sharp commentary on several social anomalies as well as human behaviour that is impeccably camouflaged as an uproarious comedy. Taking into account issues of unemployment, deceit, mistrust yet presenting the negatives with dark humour, the film is actually a reckoner of the real talent of actor Kamal Hassan. It’s hilarious yet thought-provoking.

A film sans any dialogue, the narrative uses facial expressions, body actions and a fabulous background score to tell the tale of a young graduate and his exploits. How he earns a freak chance to live a rich man’s life, tries to woo a young lady using the camouflage, evades a plot for heinous murder and eventually comes clean. Well, if not for anything, watch it for the thrills of a completely different genre of cinema. A category that captures a cine lover’s mind through deft story-telling using apt sound design and drama.

And, once you’d done so, add one more National Award-winning film to your watchlist. Aditya Vikram Sengupta’s 2014 creation, Asha Jaoar Majhe (Labour of Love), starring the immensely talented Ritwick Chakraborty and Basabdutta Chatterjee. It’s streaming on Amazon so you wouldn’t have to search high and low. It’s a short story so it won’t eat into your schedule as such. But watch it you must. Because, good cinema, something that’s few and far between in India must be taken into consideration and enjoyed. To ensure that the art showcased by the artist gets its due laurel…

The film though set in a very present Bengali milieu, could be a universal happening for any generation stuck under the clutches of depressing recession. The daily grind, the rigmarole could be placed perfectly in any set up. But what makes the story relatable to a Bengali is the Calcutta scape, the architecture, the conveyance and the canvas…

Forced to live a life they live because of the economic condition, the film chronicles a day of a nameless couple who work tirelessly to sustain themselves. Now, what could be so spectacularly different in this plot, you might think. Considering this is the life of most educated lower-middle class person who uses public transport to work after finishing the daily chores at home. There is nothing, absolutely nothing remarkable in his calendar to make things not drab. But then, that is exactly what the film strives to depict. The drab existence of a life that is listless, full of toil yet hardly devoid of turmoil. The seeming calm is superfluous. The rancour, loneliness and dejection are so ingrained in these lives that it almost is a vicious cycle…

What is the couple earning for? Money. Or the modes to live a decent, respectable life. But at what

cost? When they can’t enjoy each other’s company. The only time they meet amidst the woman’s day job in a bag factory and the husband’s night shift in a printing press, is when the husband gets back home in the morning. But then, minutes later, after the couple exchange an embrace and a smile, the wife is ready for her day of hustle. The man spends the rest of the day alone in the house, before he leaves for work. The wife returns to an empty home, spending the night on an empty bed. The communication is nil, barring the missed calls both give each other when it is time for them to wake each other up from slumber…

The constant question looming large is, “Is this a life?” Reality yes. A hard one. No wonder when they both meet for a fraction, the canvas shifts to a dreamy landscape where the couple finds few seconds of bliss. A world that probably they dream of but can never land in. Because they are stuck in this world where existence is a sheer struggle. Money is a necessity. Dreams and aspirations have already been sacrificed at its altar…

I won’t tell you more about the story because I want you to watch it… It could bore you because without the dialogues you’d really have to train your ears to catch the references of hope, of dejection, of burning out, of the rigmarole, of incompleteness, of struggle, of irony and of despair through the brilliant sound design. Even though there is squalor, this is a Calcutta we must familiarise with. Mahanagar Calcutta, where millions live a life of strife, struggle and crazy hard work. The decadence is depleting and hard reality hits you badly in the face… This is the vortex of recession that we are fast heading into…

While the two films are starkly dissimilar in execution, emotions, story line and method of approach, there is a telling similarity in the depression depicted. Unemployment and deceit rule in Pushpak

while the means to stay employed form the crux of Asha Jaoar Majhe… While the first approach is dark comedy and sarcasm, the second is subtle, real yet very straight… However, I’d give it to Anish John’s brilliant sound design in Sengupta’s film that elevates the experience notches above. This is the man who did magic in Trapped, starring Rajkumar Rao. And with every film I see that showcases his work, I become a bigger fan. I’ve known Anish ever since he was in school and I am so, so proud of him…

Several montages in the film are glaringly symptomatic of the rigmarole the couple is forced to go through. The pedalling of the cycle, the getting up and down the stairs and the loud groaning of the printing press that drowns every bit of the words spoken by the humans present in the frame. The water bubbles drying in the wok before the wife pours in the oil to start cooking is a telling sign of how the young couple’s life and dreams of spending time together is evaporating because of their daily struggle…

The film also however, shows mutual respect and love between the two. Both share household responsibilities. There is understanding and we see love, through the glances they exchange for a fleeting second. If only their love was able to conquer the abject strenuous circumstance they both find themselves in…

All Pomp and no Show... Padmaavat in my nutshell...

How many of you have watched Mirch Masala? A Ketan Mehta drama set against the arid Rann where the protagonist, Sonbai, becomes the subject of lust for the lecherous Subedar, who is essentially a Company appointed stooge. While he leaves no stone unturned to get his kill, the director makes the tale even more riveting showcasing why exactly the women of the village back Sonbai up, bolstered by their own sense of honour and pride. Eventually they fight back the villain in their own way, while the men of the village, who would rather have their women cloistered in their homes under the ghunghat than be forthcoming with their opinions, stand and watch.

The film is a stark depiction of the societal situation in the village, the patriarchal mindset and the state of women. Even if I do not delve on these, the film aught to be celebrated just for the superlative screenplay, mindblowing cinematography and of course the performances. Smita Patil oozes sex appeal that is rustic yet feisty, Naseeruddin Shah epitomises deviousness and Suresh Oberoi, though absolutely hateful, looks the authoritative man of the house to the tee.

Films cannot and should not be compared. Especially when the milieu in which they are made is different. But as I watched Padmaavat this evening I couldn’t help remembering the aforementioned film. Because even though the class depicted in the current one is monarchy, the topography and demography dealt with is somewhat similar to the former. There is a blaring reference to the mirchi throwing scene that is so lauded in the intellectual corridors of cinema. The villain’s urgency to get his catch is etched in the eyes of Ranveer Singh. But still Padmavat is no Mirch Masala. It didn’t stay with me.

Here’s why. Sanjay Leela Bhansali, known for his yen for larger-than-life canvases, miscast his male lead. With that diminutive frame Shahid Kapoor cannot pull off a Maharawal Ratan Singh. He is short, very short (and looks even more so beside the tall Deepika) and extremely lean. Rajput men are known for their height, broad shoulders and robust appearance. No matter how much the camera shines on his slick abs, those shoulders are not wide enough to do justice to the fabulous attire Rimple and Harpreet Narula gave him. He pales in comparison to the thumping personality and gait of Ranveer. I’m also wondering why he walks around with fairly one expression plastered on his face: BLANK. When he is romancing he’s blank, when he’s strategizing he’s blank and when he’s imprisoned, he’s blank. His character is unidimensional (why didn't he interact with his first wife in the entire length of the film?) What happened to the 'real' Shahid Kapoor. The actor who floored with his effortless act in Kaminey and his spellbinding art in Haider. Don’t tell me he only reserves his best for Vishal Bhardwaj…

I’m not much of a Deepika Padukone fan. Yes, she is pretty and that’s about it. She looks lovely but I kept thinking of the ethereal Aishwariya in Jodhaa Akbar. Her dialogue delivery is so stunted and jaded. Her chemistry with Shahid is bland and cold. This time somehow the director thought that the unibrow and the tears would salvage the situation. No, they don’t. I’d prefer an enigmatic Sonbai any day.

The cinematography also is a bit restricting (Bhansali has mostly used dull grey tones, last seen in his Harry Potteresque Saawariya). While it might be a conscious decision to keep the mood dark and dreary in sync with the foreboding nature of the plot, I wanted my eyes to be blown over by the length and breadth of what I witnessed on the screen. Heavily borrowed from Troy (mainly the last duel and the thousand ships image), even the war scenes were abrupt, giving no room for panoramic action sequences. While the sound design is spot on, the want of horizontal frames makes the architecture look constricted. I missed the expanse of Hum Dil Chuke Sanam. I kept asking for explanations that would justify the decisions of the king and the queen. The plot demands that. Like when he says Rajputs honour dignity and the word given with their life, there should have been little instances and nuggets to bolster that. Small snippets that would balance the heavy words. Maybe then all the heavy breathing in the lengthy drama would not sound lofty. One needs to support the heart with the lungs, right?
While the film is a chain of actions and reactions, I'm still wondering why the royal priest was prying into the private chambers of the royal couple? The script doesn't account for that even for a second... 

There were redeeming factors though. The costumes by Rimple and Harpreet. This couple has come of age. I say this because I have seen their work over the years. While Deepika’s and Shahid’s costumes were opulent and colourful, just as royals should be wearing, they poured their heart out for Khilji’s look. Dark colours that reflect the depraved and barbaric soul of the Sultan. Layers that project his intriguing personality. I don’t think it could have been better done.

Ghoomar is absolutely fantastic. It is rhythmic, folksy and picturised stunningly. Apart from that one, I don’t think the music is even worth applauding with some songs being completely redundant.

Ranveer does what Shahid could, but would not. He pulls you in with his eyes. His barbarism,

diabolic nature is mirrored in his eyes. The deep dark recesses of his treacherous heart seeps out from his piercing gaze. It’s mesmerising how this lad has grown. Though some of his physical outbursts were exaggerated, I could feel the rush of his passion towards the denouement. His win came through treachery and deceit because he wanted it so badly and he justifies it to the king. His disturbing ambition is too palpable. Like in the scene where he waits out on the barren land all through the night for Padmavati to step out of the walled city of Chittor. When she doesn’t he firms up his resolve to get what his heart desires for. Ranveer was symptomatic of passion. Passion for the woman, passion for the win and the passion to project his art like never before.

And while I watched Ranveer trying to save the drab insipid saga singlehandedly, I kept wondering when and where exactly in his career did Sanjay Leela Bhansali loose the plot…

Sonar Kella (1974)

Summer holidays would usually be bifurcated into when my father would pore over ICSE

Examination answer scripts and later when we would pack our bags for a vacation after he had submitted the mark sheets. Baba was the senior Mathematics teacher in Don Bosco School in Calcutta as well as the co-chief examiner of the ICSE Boards. So, during the first half of the holidays the whole house would be stuffed with cardboard boxes of scripts that would eventually decide the fate of youngsters who scribbled their knowledge of numbers on them. Or so, as we were made to believe in those gullible years by every teacher in that non-digitised world of ours!
Satyajit Ray's Feluda flick, Sonar Kella takes me back to one humid morning during summer recess when my father announced, "Let's just quickly finish today's quota and in the afternoon we will watch Sonar Kella!" My eyes lit up. I quickly made him a cup of tea (I was 15 then) and got him his specs. He sat down, brandished his red pen over the scripts, and started deciding the 'fates' of the helpless children. Intermittently, he asked me to cross check the calculations so that there were no errors later in the tally sheet. Sharp at 12 noon, he wrapped up, we both finished our ablutions, gobbled our lunch and sat down to watch the film. For the 16th time. Ignoring my mother's high-pitched, "God! How many times more..."

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Let them tell their own story (Lakhon Mein Ek, a web series)

How many of you have heard of Biswa Kalyan Rath? Or watched him perform on stage or on

YouTube?

For the uninitiated, Rath is a stand-up comedian who broke into the scene when he and fellow comedian Kanan Gill presented the ‘viral’ Pretentious Movie Reviews on YouTube. He then hosted his own shows, cracked the audience up at his gigs and so on and so forth.

I, myself, was unknown to this name till yesterday. Because I am not into stand-up comedy and moreover, entertainment for me is much more than what becomes ‘viral’.

But, somewhere, while watching Rath’s video clips just now, I realised I need to stay abreast of these remarkably talented young fellows. Not only was he funny, but that voice, gait, confidence and language play were traits that I haven’t seen in many youngsters of late. His self-deprecating jokes were sharp and sarcastic and I know where they come from. As Bengalis, we almost always passed snide remarks at the Oriya clan, not realising that they can be talented as hell as well. My interactions with local weavers of Odisha changed my perspective completely. And now Rath.

Anyway. I got introduced to Rath through Lakhon Mein Ek, a web-series he produced for Amazon that stars Ritvik Sahore. While ad clips familiarised me with the series a while back, yesterday I finally watched it. At 12 in the night, I pushed myself to complete the series at one go. Because, it was unputdownable. Compelling, realistic and dark to a large extent, the series revealed that sharp and sarcastic side of Rath that he often passes off with a laugh on stage.

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Swami (1977)

As teenagers, we were brought up on a steady dose of classic Bengali literature. While Rabindranath

Tagore was a constant, my mother insisted we tick off a reading list comprising Sarat Chandra Chatterjee, Bibhutibhushan Banerjee and Manik Bandopadhyay. During the interim between my graduation and masters, I voraciously read titles by all these literary greats. While each one bore a fascinating style, I found Sarat Chandra's works very easy to relate to. And understand. He was an everyman's writer portraying the plight of women in the society of the then Bengal. Interesting stories that you we heard about from our grandmas found place in his works as well. Woman were a pivotal point in his stories and often the plot revolved around the female protagonist. The ideals, conflicts and emotional quotient was so easy to relate to.

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Shaque (1976)

I had watched Aruna Vikas's Shaque as a young teenager. Considering that I am blessed with a

remarkable memory, I didn't really forget the plot and the characters but when I watched it yesterday I realised that my reaction to the film had undergone quite some change. The first viewing was accompanied by my father's incessant appreciation of Utpal Dutt, who plays a unique role in the film. With his commentary I ended up believing that it is a perfect suspense thriller with able performances not only by Dutt but also by the protagonists Vinod Khanna and Shabana Azmi. Understandably this teenager's impression was a tad coloured.
This time the commentary was absent. Hence, I watched the film from top to toe and realised that while the plot is fantastic, the music is apt to build up the suspense, Utpal Dutt is cut out for the role of Maan Singh, it is Vinod Khanna and Shabana Azmi who fail to grasp my attention. Both are so inconsistent in the film, to the extent of

being disinterested. Vinod Khanna's acting skills I'm not too sure of, but I know Shabana can own the screen. Here she does not. Maybe that's why Shaque for me isn't the perfect suspense thriller...
Meena Joshi receives an curious letter from some Maan Singh, while her husband, Vinod Joshi is away for work. The letter alleges that Vinod had murdered Kale after stealing money from his office and put the blame on the innocent Subramanium. The author also alleges that the Joshis' sudden rise to riches was because of that stolen money and that Vinod is actually a scheming fellow who has planned the misdeed. Meena's halcyon world comes crashing down. While she refuses to believe what the letter says, she keeps questioning Vinod's sudden contact with so much money. Eventually Vinod finds out that Meena is suspecting him and though he tells her that he earned all the property through his dealings in the share market, Meena takes it all in with a pinch of salt.

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Alaap (1977)

For a film that's primarily focussing on the clash of principles between an indignant father and a self-respecting son, Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Alaap takes a winding route in building up the story. It's evenAbhimaan and Jurmana. In this film a good story is somewhere let down by the circuitous execution.

more strange because Mukherjee is at the helm of affairs here. But there is so much redundancy in the beginning before the actual plot unfolds, that you wonder whether this is the same director who knit solid tales like
Advocate Triloki Prasad is a widowed man who prides himself on the position he holds in society. He's rich, venerated and hence, doesn't mince words belittling the interest in music that his younger son, Alok, has. It's a very straight-jacketed thought process. If you have studied in college and earned degree, you give up all artistic pursuits and get down to brass tacks. A knack or a yen for the arts isn't really appreciated in Triloki Prasad's universe. He forces Alok to take serious interest in work, which entails going with Ashok, his elder brother, to the court and pick up the ropes in the industry of law.

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Jurmana (1979)

Very few directors could spin an engrossing tale like Hrishikesh Mukherjee. Especially with incidents  that on hindsight appear inconsequential. Like in Jurmana (1979), a juvenile challenge between two friends changes the course of lives for so many near them. It reveals character flaws, misunderstandings and ultimately you have to wait up and see what happens in the end. This is the mark of a great story teller, which Mukherjee undoubtedly was.

He also created the most unique characters for Amitabh Bachchan. I feel Bachchan got to toy with a veritable array of personas only in Mukherjee's films. Even in Jurmana, the actor gets to portray a challenging role. He puts his heart and soul into Inder and makes him easy to hate first and eventually fit for pardon. Grey to the hilt, Inder turns out way too interesting to neglect.
Inder Saxena (Amitabh Bachchan) is a rich businessman, disillusioned with women courtesy a cruel

act by the woman who he was once supposed to marry. Treating women like commodities, when Inder first notices Rama (Rakhee) in the quiet lanes of Pratapgarh, he only wants to bed her. Despite being warned by his childhood buddy Prashant (Vinod Mehra) that she is made of sterner stuff, he tries every trick up his sleeve to melt her heart. What Inder does not realise is that the girl actually falls in love with him never suspecting his lecherously odious intention.

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Bemisal (1982)

I was trekking to Gurgaon the other day from Noida, where I live. For the uninitiated, let me tell you,

that's like crossing two states!
The distance is a crawl, and a sapping one at that. Daily commuters from Noida to Gurgaon will relate to the grief I go through during such occasion arises. But, thank heavens for FM radio, which makes the journey a wee bit pleasant.
The moment I got into the car Lata Mangeshkar's Aeri pawan dhunde kise tera mann transformed me into a reverie. It's such a beautiful song. After enjoying the rendition, I quickly googled the song, traced the film and after reading the gist was piqued to watch it. All I can say is that I did not live to regret the decision.

Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Bemisal (1982) is an engaging drama of human relations bordering on greed and benevolence. But what I loved most was the character sketched for Amitabh Bachchan. While from afar he appears an affable, happy-go-lucky doctor, his personality is far more intriguing and charismatic than the others in the film. And it is laced with a deep sense of magnanimity influenced by the benevolence he was gifted with when times were far from favourable. His regard for those who helped him out never diminishes and his sense of duty is unparalleled. The crests and troughs of his journey is worth graphing. Dr Sudhir Roy's actions make the film so believable. Despite the tardy subplot of Ruby Dutt.
Dr Sudhir Roy, a child specialist, and Dr Prashant Chaturvedi (Vinod Mehra), a gynecologist, have been brought up by an advocate. Sudhir never ignores the fact that the rich advocate saved him from a deplorable life by adopting him and giving him a steady upbringing and education. For that he remains forever indebted. Hence, when it comes to abdicating the woman who he is attracted to for the sake of his foster brother, he doesn't waste a moment before making the sacrifice. Even though he can gauge that Kavita (Rakhee) might be more keen to marry him, he owns up his murky past to dissuade her. But more importantly he implores her to marry Prashant because that would make him happy.

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A saga of ideals: Newton (2017)

I am not equipped enough to pen a critique on the dance of democracy depicted in Amit Masurkar's Newton. I agree that the sharpness and sarcasm is on point. The director has illustrated the truth with much ardour, albeit with a restraint that only veteran filmmakers showcase. The starkness of the plot, the realism is something that Masurkar should be lauded for. Absolutely riveting throughout, it's not for nothing that this effort is being applauded. As my heart lets out a silent cry of joy for the entire team of Newton, I can only wish and pray that this director's edge is never smudged. May he keep churning out such brilliance. For God knows, we need them.

But I do not want to deal with the politics in the film. The critics have done ample of that. I'll focus on human portraiture in the story. It was a rare study of the ideals constructing personalities. These beliefs are nurtured under certain circumstances, but events influence change. The film is a beautiful study of this balance of virtues and ideals and how they slowly transform with time and tide.

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Mrs Scooter (2015)

While all eyes are trained on Amit Masurkar's Newton and Rajkummar Rao today, I would like to draw your attention to Shiladitya Moulik's film called Mrs Scooter that stars Anjali Patil in the pivotal role. She is the girl who supports the stellar cast of Rao and Pankaj Tripathi in Newton as Malku. Ever since I've discovered her through Mrs Scooter, I cannot not be wonder-struck at her nuanced approach to acting. She is critically acclaimed and immensely talented. This lissome dusky beauty is not just about looks. Her craft has the punches.

I don't get why critics found Mrs. Scooter depressing and devoid of hope. I thought it was an uplifting and a subtle love story that though in some parts might seem far-fetched but it's effective. Two stories, that of the new bride, and the scooter, are placed in a linear fashion so that we start identifying both as two kegs in the same wheel of things. It's as if the inaminate object is determining the path that the bride's life will take.

Shot entirely in Aligarh, the films revolves around the life of a new bride who accompanies her husband to the house where he puts up as a tenant. The day he gets married he also buys a blue scooter, signifying that he is embarking on a new journey in his life. The scooter becomes an intrinsic part of the couple's life that is drawn with minute precision by the director. Even as they reach the house, the landlady greets them and wants to know every single detail about the bride. A nosey parker of sorts, she also cracks crude jokes about intimacy that the bride finds rather strange, considering the lady hardly knows her. The couple slip into their own room and the bride immediately gets busy cleaning up the mess that the husband had left the place in. The bride is instrumental in altering the vibe of the room from a bachelor pad to a cosy home and the two settle into blissful domesticity. The scooter is also a big part of their lives, almost like a third member intertwining its life with the owners.

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Chaar (2014)

I stumbled upon Sandip Ray's Chaar yesterday night while rummaging through Amazon Prime Movies and it didn't disappoint at all. Rather it uplifted my stressed nerves to a happy state and I went to sleep satiated. You see... I am having a rough time at work not because of the work load. The

volume I can manage. But when the powers-to-be are adamant about being irrational and difficult it's then that the going gets tough. Hence my seeking solace in cinema. After Malhar...

Chaar is a Bengali anthology film that brings together four crisp stories by three brilliant writers in the history of Bengali literature. When Sandip Ray started his cinematic journey, all eyes were trained on him to check whether he would be an able successor to his father, Satyajit Ray, the name that is synonymous with brilliance, elegance, technical prowess and magic in the film world. I don't want to delve too much into the maestro's craft here because this time the spotlight is taken by the son and with a brandish. With every film Sandip is getting there; he is subtle, sure and deft with his direction. His marvellous genes are showing their true colours. He is taking these little stories and making some gems out of them. I wonder how the film did when it released but last night it made me a happy person. Four short stories, presented in a no-nonsense format, supported by a wholesome cast, Chaar was quite a pleasant surprise that I unraveled by sheer chance...

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Silsila (1981)

Am I the only one who found Yash Chopra's 1981 romance, Silsila, absolutely forgettable? Must be.

For, everywhere I look and listen, there are such good things uttered about the film. It's attained this cult status amongst fans of romance. Then why did it not trigger the same emotion in me? Am I being too hard? Too difficult?

Fact is, while watching this lengthy soppy saga of a man's dithering and indiscretion, I only felt three things. The music by Shiv Kumar Sharma and Hari Prasad Chaurasia is beautiful. It has that pleasant simplicity that makes it timeless. The costume designer did a darn good job with the women's wear. Jaya Bachchan and Rekha wear the most stunning saris. Being a sari lover, I could feel the dribble in my mouth as the heroines sashayed in those six yards. Thirdly, I felt really bad for Jaya Bachchan. Not because she is treated badly by Father Fate. But because she seemed disinterested in the film, mouthing dialogues in a very non-committal way. She's projected as a helpless woman who has to depend on the men in her life no matter how wrong they have been to her. I see her spark up in one scene where she implores her husband to rethink his decision. But that's about it. Frankly, I want much, much more from an actor of Jaya's calibre. I feel let down by the role etched for her.

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Poorna -- Courage Has no Limits (2017)

My best friend's husband just quit his job. Disgruntled with the work ethos and favoritism at his workplace (one of Delhi's oldest five-star hotels), he couldn't take it any more. The good part is that in about two months he'll be joining an airlines company in a senior position and he's looking forward to it (so are we; he's promised us a big treat!)
Two days back, we were talking about work conditions in corporate offices and he challenged the elitist mentality that private companies project; the red tape culture that is in no way different from government offices. He was unable to eat the tasteless mash that is doled out day-in and day-out in their office canteen and despite complaints the system is unchanged. Just to avoid further confusion he has religiously paid up his canteen fees lest the higher authorities raise a hue and cry over why this 'saab' has all the problem when the others are satisfied! That's how it is everywhere I guess. The degrees vary.

This conversation reminded me of a scene from Rahul Bose's Poorna--Courage Has No Limits

(2017), an earnest masterpiece chronicling a teenager's hopes, struggles and determination. In one of the scenes Dr Praveen Kumar, the secretary of the State Social Welfare Residential Educational Institutions Society visits the school where Poorna is a student for a check.He is a simple man with no airs and amiably expresses his wish to eat lunch with the students. The principal is skeptical but he is in no position to prevent the secretary. When the food is served the principal wriggles out saying he is on a fast. One morsel is enough for Kumar to know the true picture. He looks at the students around who are silently eating whatever has been served, pauses to clear his mouth and gives a cold stare to the principal. The message is quite clear. What makes them serve this unpalatable trash to these poor students? Just because they are poor they are being treated with utter disdain. And this, despite the funds distributed regularly to the organisation. Yet again, through this brilliant scene, we get a glimpse of the corruption rampant in our country. It has permeated to every level possible.

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Kabhi Kabhie (1976)

I'm mentally prepared to be trolled, derided and umm... maybe ostracized even. But I need to say what I need to say. Kabhi Kabhie is Yash Chopra's most overrated film ever. Period. 

Brickbats... bring it on...

The other morning I got into an interesting conversation with a

neighbour. After the sundry exchanges about child tantrums, daily chores and the usual agonies of life in Modi's India, I quickly asked her whether she loves romances of the Yash Chopra kind. She started with a gushing take on Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge and how it was her go-to film even a few years back. On correcting that the film was actually not Yash but his son's Aditya's directorial debut and perhaps his only watchable film, she revealed that it might not be as appealing today as it was earlier. Why? Because, as she put it, "Times were different then. We were different. I cannot relate to it anymore." This was my chance, my ticket to launch a tirade against a film over which I wasted three hours the previous night. Now why I did not abandon it midway? You see. I don't give up that easily. I'm a movie freak. 

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Dance, dance...(Dirty Dancing)

Everyone loves the underdog story. How a nondescript personality comes to the forefront and

snatches the glare from front rankers. Emile Ardolino's Dirty Dancing is one such instance. Apparently this 1987 low-budget romantic drama wasn't expected to run more than a week at the theatre, but strangely it went on to become a massive sleeper hit and was also the first film to sell more than a million copies on home video! However, if you watch this Patrick Swayze-Jennifer Grey movie today, this mammoth success will hardly come off as uncalled for. It's a film tailor-made to reap in the moolah. It's smart, simple, sexy, freewheeling, passionate, has a social message and yes... it has Patrick Wayne Swayze, the smooth smouldering dancer!

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Dangerous liaison (Fatal Attraction, 1987)

What depths can a woman plunge to for love? I say depths because Alex Forest does not rise in love.

Or should I call it obsession? She plummets into the most obnoxious and deplorable levels of behaviour in order to get the due attention from the man she starts believing she has a right to. These are all her beliefs. On any given day, a mind with a rational thinking capacity would not like to give any benefit of doubt. But then as they say, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. And in Alex's case, like a psychotic woman scorned!

Adrian Lyne's psychological thriller, Fatal Attraction, the second most highest grossing film of 1987, has an undercurrent of eeriness from scene one itself. There is that constant hangover of danger lurking in the corner. A sense of foreboding, an air of premonition clouds every frame. Even the camera angles and the tints used suggest that things will soon turn awry in Dan Gallaghar's life. Dan (Michael Douglas is tailor-made for these roles) is a happily-married and successful attorney living in New York. His wife, Beth (Anne Archer) is a quintessential home-maker, taking care of the family. She's the loving and doting wife and mother who would not care to challenge her husband's fidelity. The equation is pretty safe and comfortable between Dan and Beth. They have a cute six-year-old girl, Beth. But nothing can be taken for granted...

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Triangle A (Amar Akbar Anthony)

I am not too fond of Manmohan Desai films. Neither do I like Amitabh Bachchan in them. Oh yes! I really don't. The films are loud, hardly have good music, except for a feet-tapping song or two in passing and Amitabh was so in-your-face in them. The other day, I got rebuked by a dear friend for ridiculing the 'Mirror scene' in Amar Akbar Anthony which I'm told that no one else but Amitabh could have pulled off. May be. But I did not find it funny at all! And, I don't like him in these 'dhishoom dhishoom' films. I'd much rather watch him as the egoistic husband in Abhimaan, a scheming jaggery-seller in Saudagar, or the revenging husband in Ajnabi. Those are my kind of films. And I certainly like Amitabh in them.

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Songs that have stayed (Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hai)

Yes, yes, yes. My sincere apologies for keeping you all waiting. Those of you who thought I've abandoned this space, well, think again! For, I'm too much a movie-lover to give up this blog of mine. It's taken me time, a lot of time indeed, to come back to it, but here I am, once again. Yes, Malhar's fine. He's now turning three, is as hyperactive as an Energizer Bunny, and extremely (that's an understatement) naughty. And work is very hectic as well! But again, here I am...

Padmini Kolhapuri is a powerhouse of talent. Her energy was palpable in all the films starring her as a child actress so when you see a film where she makes her debut as the heroine, the expectations are obviously huge. Mine were too. I must say I am extremely fond of this bubbly, photogenic actor who has an effortless charm about her. No role is too tough for her. Being in the industry from a very young age, she makes the characters look like a cakewalk. So, when I saw her in Nasir Husain's 1981 romance Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hai, I was waiting for some real fire-cracking in the scenes she set foot with yummylicious Rishi Kapoor. But I was left waiting for more...

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A courtesan's tale (Ghungroo)

There are many good things about Ram Sethi's 1983 drama, Ghungroo, as well a few bad. Lets start with the good, because it's not quite recommended to start off with negatives.

The film, a drama set against the backdrop of a royal family, is well-scripted. The editing is quite taut, till the editor looses steam mid-way. The actors do their job quite well. One song seriously stands out for its strength and emotional quotient (I actually thought I saw Malhar's nanny wipe her tears during Tohfa kubul hain sung by Asha Bhonsle). And yes, Ranjeet is slicingly devious without being OTT.

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