Textual Overtones

Dear Vikram,
Yes, as you may have noticed, I have never called you Kenny. Because that’s what your closest, personal friends call you.

Though we ‘are’ friends, I am sure you appreciate I am paid to be a journalist and that’s what I do for a living.

So I, of course, only know you as Vikram. I have only met you when either of us have wanted to do a story on you or when we’ve needed something from each other officially – to attend one party or the other. I am thankful you were nice enough to come and watch my film and I hope you didn’t see that as a favour you were doing me. ☺

As you clarified then: “The best story anyone ever wrote on me was by you. So was the worst ever. But for that best story you wrote, you can write another 100 bad stories.”

Earlier in February, two things happened:
1.    Gautham mentioned Bheema as the film he hated in one of our columns in Cinema Plus. And before going on to say he hated it, he also said: “When a talented actor and successful director come together you expect something well thought out. I know they can come back and tell me the same thing about Pachakili Muthucharam but if you don’t like something, you don’t like it… That’s how it works, right? So let’s go for each other.” Little do you know that we pushed the story by a week to make sure it didn’t affect your film’s already dismal performance.
2.    The following week in the same column, we carried the interview I did with you before my interview with Gautham where you had mentioned ‘Vinnukkum Mannukkum’ as the movie you hated. (You obviously had a problem that the paper carried your films in the column for two consecutive weeks. You even accused me of misquoting you. You forget I have it on record and it wouldn’t take me much to upload your interview on my blog for everybody to compare what else you said and that what actually appeared was a toned down version. You have a tendency to deny things you say… like how you rubbished Krissh and then chickened out after it appeared wondering what Hrithik was going to tell you. Which is why I recorded the interview and told you it was not “off the record”)

Anyway, the same day this column appeared, you asked me to treat your whole other big interview on Bheema off the record. I thought you didn’t need the story any more. I had no clue that was supposed to be some sort of a punishment for me.

After all, you had asked us if we can do an interview with you to boost Bheema’s run after complaining  about the review we carried. Yes, though I may not agree to the reasons mentioned by our official reviewer, the truth is if I had done that review, I would’ve been far more critical of the film.

But when you asked me, I told you what worked for me and what didn’t.

I told you that the seed of the idea of Bheema was really good: the story of a second generation vigilante… what happens if a boy who grows up idolizing the vigilante takes law into his own hands in today’s context when the system is all powerful. I told you I liked the fact that your performance was restrained. It was a welcome relief after Anniyan and Maja. But I also told you I would have liked it if it were not as stylised in execution and it lacked a raw realistic feel that would’ve given it the grittiness of Ram Gopal Varma’s Satya.

I even mentioned in one of my columns that Bheema ended up looking like a throwback to Brokeback Mountain. It wasn’t just my opinion. The entire hall was in splits. If you had watched the film in a multiplex, you would’ve died of embarrassment. I understand the mass reacts differently and there lies your audience and market. So it didn’t matter what the urban audience thought about the film.

Since we were wearing our ‘friends’ hats, I had even taken care not to hurt your feelings and sandwiched my criticism between layers of praise, over the phone.

But you just cannot expect me, or any journalist friend of yours, to do that ON PRINT.

A critic is paid to give his honest opinion. If I, or our official reviewer, hadn’t done that, I can’t imagine you respecting us. From critics, we would become the people you think you can control. I hope you understand the term “free press”. Friendship or not, a newspaper has to do what it has to do in the best interest of its readers.

This specific case of you being mad at me for carrying Gautham’s and your own opinion in the column even more than three months after these incidents, losing your cool enough to utter four letter words at a recent party, does not show you in good light to the media or your film fraternity.

I told you were mixing business and personal. To which you said, “My films are personal to me. Anyone who doesn’t like my films can’t be my friend.” To which I told you, I am a journalist first.

That being the case, you said you don’t need to give me interviews if I were just a journalist and not your friend. True that. I have news for you. I am not paid by my organisation to get your interview. I am paid to write what is the best interest of our readers.

Now that we are no longer wearing our ‘friends’ hats, here are a few tips from a guy who still wishes you well. Also, the reason I am writing this on my blog and not on the paper is because I am writing this not as a journalist, I am writing this as a fan.

You are a great actor. Very few actors put in the kind of effort you do for films. You put on weight, lose weight, get excited, lose sleep and are even willing to go blind in your passion for cinema and quite literally, when you did Kaasi or a Sethu. We, your fans, loved you for that and showed our appreciation for you in even your commercial entertainers: Dhil, Saamy and Dhool.

What we have liked about you hasn’t changed. But what you have become has. In your own words, you said you can never do a Kasi again because there’s a huge market and the minute you sign a film, the market value of it and the expectations increase. And whether or not you charge less, people distributing the film and the system will promote it like a big film. And that “in this industry, you are only as good as your last film.” Learn from Mr. Kamal Hasan please.

Ever since Anniyan… Be it Maja or Bheema, your films have become more about you and your superstardom, even if you are playing an ordinary henchman or a village bumpkin. You do not want to play an ordinary man again as an actor… Which you were in Sethu, Dhil, Saamy and even Dhool… you were up against odds larger than you but you fought them as a common man.  Today, you are feeding the star more than the appetite of the brilliant actor that you used to be and still are capable of being.

I’m not going to mention things you told me off the record here but we both know what you think of yourself. It is good to have self-esteem. But narcissism is an entirely different thing. It is symptomatic when you ask why your name has been mentioned after two other women stars in an interview. What have you become Vikram?

You are the same guy who pawned your wife’s jewels to organise previews for Sethu. You came up the hard way. You deserve to stay. Are you going to throw it all away being hot-headed and taking criticism so personally?

Your refusal to understand Gautham Menon’s point of view is not a good sign of what you have become. He tells me you aren’t in talking terms. Everybody knows about your spat. Nobody from the industry ever is going to dare to tell you the truth about what they think about your work or your film. They are going to tell you what you want to hear. And when you fall, they will laugh at your foolishness.

For all you know, they are just waiting for you to fall. You used to be the guy people liked. Today you are wearing his mask. Your actions speak louder than words. Every film of yours speaks volumes of how full you are becoming of yourself. Let the actor in you breathe. Let your characters become flawed, complex and ordinary again. We like to see a struggler reach glory in our films and in life. Today, you believe you are infallible and that you can do no wrong. Even if you really believe that, be thick-skinned and do it with conviction (like yours truly) so that in the end you have only yourself to blame.

Yes, we know you’ve made crores and enough to support the next seven generations but there’s something called as respect. Do you want your kids to respect you when they grow up and see your movies for what they really were? Are you going to be proud of Bheema? I doubt. They’re probably going to cringe at Daddy Dearest’s Brokeback Mountain attempt in Bheema. They are going to be teased in college for it. They are going to be reminded of how their father became India’s first gay icon as Rampwalk Remo, not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s one thing to do that intentionally and another to not know when you’re making a fool of yourself. Speaking of which, I hope you are not playing a superhero called Cock-Man in Kandasamy like the trailer indicates.

When friends tell you something, please listen. You don’t have to do something about it but at least pretend like you are listening or they will never ever tell you what they really think about you and your work. They have your best interests in mind. I still have nothing against you. Remember, I wrote the best story about you and the worst. You sure don’t want to lose an honest opinion. You don’t want to lose objectivity.

(Phor extra-reading plesar, read “tion” as “sun” and “f” sounds with “ph”)

In the backside of every Hindi “fillum,” there is a “pharmoola.”

Underwear Indian, bathroom western but business inside is about toilet paper and inspiration.
Pardon the Phlavour, but Hindi fillums out of Yash Raj are smelling like morning ablution. There’s always a sitting, a loud hearing and then, there is a release.

Tashan is like that wonly.

I knowing Tashan is tribute to pharmoola fillums of Ballywood. But by God, right intention but loses direction. Many nice situation but not holding attention. Reason: Déjà vu and John Woo ishtyle. We seen that, done that. We also having DVD player. We have slow motion button on remote control. Mastana (Naseeruddin Shah) in Bombay Boys ispeaking Englis like this also.

So what is new in Tashan? Introduction… Bindaas half-a-first scene (until the car goes off the cliff in cartoon effect) intercutting between Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Main and Highway to Hell, muchos nothing. By nothing, I talking about Kareena Kaboob in and as beach bums in neech bikini. Zero per cent fat, 80 per cent cleavage, 100 per cent mileage, no wastage of her footage. The bigger size the movie, the smaller size the costume.
Today children seeing what we earlier finding only in James Bonda movies. How things have changed far better or worse. Anil Kapoor was hairy-chested Lakhan in Ram Lakhan. Now Lakhan Singh in transparent vest hiding his shaved boobies in Tashan. In movies today, no matter hero or heroine, you need to wax chest more than eloquence.

To tell more about story in briefs… Saif Ali Khan after much talking to camera, forgets continuity of biker moochen, and tells us he got into the situation because he agreed to take Englis tution for Bhaiyyaji, not knowing that he was actually being used and double crossed by cheatercock bikini bitch. How? Because screenwriter-director mistakes Call Centre to be Telephone Exchange.

Finding this logic, Saif Ali Khan runs out of shooting set but camera follows. And, Bhaiyyaji calling Ganga Kinaare Waala.

Enter Akshay Kumar with double surname: Bachchan Pande as Ravan with shades, beating writer for corny dialoguebaazi. “Ramayan was written by Tulsidas. I only writing screenplay,” argues writer. Understanding? Yes, pharmoola of Hindi fillums was written by Salim-Javed. Vijay Krishna Acharya wonly recycling pharmoola, pleading innocence?

Bledy Nonsense.

Hindi cinema heroine has no common sense. Even if she cheatercock, she tell truth about next destination: phather’s last rites in Haridwar. Khiladi and Anari go on road trip again to cut back to bindaas first scene… setting stage for interval with girl in between triangle.

Everything is from the Ballywood book of pharmoola (From Don to Deewar to Kala Pathar to Ram Lakhan to Mr. India to Main Khiladi Tu Anadi) but underwear, look and pheel of the fillum is Hollywood. Like Jimmy saying, in our Hindi fillum, we have a song for everything.

All elements of pharmoola you will find in Tashan. But no soul, only villain who is asshole. Like all the fillums, villain has big den with water-stream running for motor-boat stunts and machine guns only for showing, strictly not for using during climax action. Also if they fire gun, they all must miss or what is the fun?

By God, Saif is uper-cool, Kareena sooper-hot, Anil what-not and Akshay all heart. Apart from these four, it is a wild bore. But the kitschy look, the dhinchak music, the naach-gaana, the Englis ka bajaana, Kareena’s trip to the cabana and the occasional line-marna (especially the proposal to bend like Beckham) makes Tashan an alternative in these times of starvation. Expect nothing. Get more.

Genre: Drama
Director: Ajay Devgan
Cast: Ajay Devgan, Kajol, Divya Dutta
Storyline: A couple’s ‘Happily Everafter’ is interrupted when Alzheimer’s condition strikes.
Bottomline: Sucker for sentimentality? Try this.

“You know something?”

That phrase is used to punishing levels in this near-meandering melodrama littered with borrowed jokes and stolen moments from ‘The Notebook,’ ‘A Beautiful Mind,’ ‘50 First Dates,’ among other films you can’t remember because memory fails you.

Yet it all works strangely and comes together quite effectively in the second half. Largely because, even if the world of his constructed reality is borrowed from a different sensibility, Devgan seems to have taken its occupants from the real world. His characters are as real as they get in mainstream films.

They come up with the most inane commonplace comments about each other, even SMS jokes and moral-of-the-story email forwards. They bond like normal people do. They don’t always speak intelligently. They are flawed. There are no side-kicks. They are capable of making even the hero the butt of all jokes. And, they are comfortable singing out of tune.

No, this is not realistic cinema by a long shot. It is every bit the quintessential melodramatic Bollywood film employing larger-than-life devices in the story-telling and jumping genres quite comfortably. Be it the light-hearted split-screens that show the little boy as the villain of the piece or the comic flashback sequences exaggerated to make you smile, the wide-angle point of views, jump cuts or even the ghostly dissolves…

There’s this scene where the camera (Aseem Bajaj’s cinematography) jerkily establishes the mental health facility like the Ramsay Brothers would introduce their bhooth bungalow. Devgan seems to suggest that the inmates are living ghosts, sending a shiver down your spine. That’s because this is a point-of-view film where the camera slips into the shoes of different characters to make its point.

“Are you sending your husband to the facility to make life easy for you or him?” the shrink had asked his patient’s wife much earlier in the film. Now, here he was bringing his own wife to the facility, trying to avoid eye contact with the woman he had counseled. He feels helpless, ashamed, guilty, vulnerable, heavy and even understanding and empathetic.

As an actor, he’s brilliant.

As a filmmaker, even better.

A fine example unfolds (again in the second half) when the doctor hands him his newborn and adds that he’s not sure if the mother would even recognise the baby.

There’s no melodramatic response or a background score to heighten the mood before the cut. The director does not forget that the man is a doctor himself. Just a moment of thought, which, in no time melts into baby-talk and he fondly greets his newborn with a “Hi baby.”

Also, but for the climax, the rest of the melodrama is contained and surprisingly restrained, restricted to metaphors and visual cues. Sample: the drama of rain washing away memory, doors and windows employed as transition to signify blackouts, the lizard about to swallow its prey inter-cut with impending danger or the colour white to represent memory (déjà vu Black and an Alzheimer’s-afflicted Amitabh Bachchan walking around in a white room?).

Devgan is a thinking storyteller with a flair for the ‘answers first, questions later’ narrative technique, breaking linearity to deal with predictability, to infuse pace into an indulgently told story. He has absolutely no problem with long monologues affecting pace. He sets it up for all his actors to unleash their histrionics, giving them ample scope to pour their hearts out.

Kajol revels in her role with an unforgettably electrifying performance to match Devgan’s career-best. The couple is likely to walk away with a few awards and is finely complemented by a solid support cast in Divya Dutta, Isha Sharwani (fully utilised to flaunt acrobatic flair, salsa and cleavage), Sumeet Raghavan and Karran Khanna.

Ashwini Dhir’s lines (the ‘Office Office’ guy who made ‘One, Two, Three’ and also wrote the forgettable Krazzy 4) help quite a bit to keep the balance between the light-hearted feel-good and the heavy-duty drama but the You-know-something’s take a toll on you, more so if you’re watching it for the second time.

But, you know something? For a film that isn’t too original, ‘U, Me Aur Hum’ has a lot of heart.

Genre: Comedy
Director: Jaideep Sen
Cast: Irrfan Khan, Arshad Warsi, Rajpal Yadav, Suresh Menon, Juhi Chawla, Diya Mirza
Storyline: Four mentally ill friends need to rescue their doctor who has been kidnapped.
Bottomline: Gives Hindi cinema a bad name.

Kakey Koshan: I’m, er… recently retired…
Borat: You are a retard?
Kakey Koshan:Er… yes…
Borat: Er… physical or mental?
Kakey Koshan: RETIRED! I don’t work anymore… Except Krissh films.
Borat still doesn’t get it.
Kakey Koshan: STOPPED WORKING!
Borat: [quietly across the table] Is very good you allow retard to, er…make movie-film. But it is not success, you will be execute.

Yes, certainly, there was a noble idea somewhere in between all that making fun of the mentally ill and questioning the sanity of modern day society.

But thanks to the way it plays out, you desperately start praying for a regulation under which producers of such films can be sued.

Dearest trouble-makers, this is the kind of film that you should claim for ban on some grounds or the other. Here are a few charges you can press:

a. Mental Agony, Nausea & Trauma: This one’s good enough for a lawsuit. Only that the judge may hold you in contempt for showing it to the court just to prove a point. Besides, you will have to be in court during the screening. A second watch could leave you brain dead.

b. Tall Claims: For all the promos that promise a comedy, the funniest joke in the film is where Arshad Warsi asks Irrfan to hold his injured middle finger up so that the breeze will soothe it (Mr.Bean there done that?) only to send the wrong signals to the biker dude. The second funniest attempt at humour is when an obsessive-compulsive cleanliness-freak Irrfan tries rubbing off Rakhi Sawant’s trash stamp at the end of her item. There is no third joke in the film.

c. Mental Illness is not a joke: Political incorrectness is better than pretentious political correctness. You want us to laugh at these guys all through out the film and then expect us to take their preaching seriously and hope we shed a tear for them.

d. The Fancy-Dress ‘Gandhi’ who turns to violence: Yes, this film actually shows a man dressed as Gandhi slapping a patriot who falls at his feet. When he shows his other cheek, he gets slapped again. Yes, we’re supposed to see the irony… a man dressed up as Gandhi does not understand ideals of Ahimsa. But when you make a clown like Rajpal Yadav monkey around that it looks like he’s almost going to disrobe the man’s dhoti in public view, the man’s actions seem extremely justified.

e. Obscenity: Nope, we are not talking about Rakhi Sawant’s costume (When has she worn clothes anyway?). It’s not even half as obscene as the marketing hype and budget for this no-brainer. SRK does better dancing in the ‘Panchvi Pass’ commercials and Hrithik’s much-hyped item is a 90 second extension of the original commercial appearing during end credits.

f. Defamation: Rajat Kapoor, Irrfan Khan and Arshad Warsi should sue for defamation. The only reason they could’ve done this film is out of pressure of high expectations we have from them. They can’t do anything worse than this next, can they?

g. Death threats: That ‘To be continued’ at the end of the film hinting at a sequel… you must be joking right?

Genre: Comedy
Director: Ashwini Dheer
Cast: Suniel Shetty, Tusshar Kapoor, Paresh Rawal, Upen Patel, Sameera Reddy, Esha Deol, Tanisha, Neetu Chandra
Storyline: Three guys with a common name show up in Pondicherry as confusion ensues.
Bottomline: Watch it drunk with your chaddi-buddies

Confession: One, Two, Three isn’t half as bad as people tell you it is.

Obviously, not many would like to admit they laughed at the drop of an undergarment.

Ashwini’s script is a factory of undergarment jokes tailor-made for mass appeal.

If you laughed out loud for the ‘Yeh To Bada Toing Hai’ ad campaign or ‘the Rupa ke Underwear aur Banian’ MTV gag, you are going to love this extra-large comedy of errors involving the underworld, an underwear seller and an employee under pressure.

Paresh Rawal revels in his role as the old-fashioned salesman on the threshold of change as his son wants to give the business a modern feel. Lakshminarayan 1 sizes up his customers with natural flair, never under-estimating their needs. While he’s actually supposed to meet Tamil-spouting lingerie designer (Esha Deol), thanks to the confusion of two other of his name-sakes staying in the hotel, Paresh Rawal hooks up with vintage car-seller Sameera, who likes to keep her advertising brief and effective.

Suniel Shetty is such a talented actor that at no point do you realise he’s trying to rip off Mr.Bean’s antics. Lakshminarayan 2 has a good thing going until humour by repetition takes its toll on you. This is easily one of his best roles till date. He has four lines including a joke in the movie. And he’s made to repeat that joke 40 times in the course of car-hunting for his boss, only to become hunted by the underworld being mistaken for Lakshminarayan 3.

Tusshar Kapoor (the third Lakshminarayan, the hit-man) finally realizes that the only way he can play a gangster is in a farce. Bagging his first killing contract, all he ends up knocking down are a couple of coconuts. Jitender Junior gets to romance Dharmendra Junior until the confusion gets compounded further… the kind of comedy Crazy Mohan and Kamal Hassan would’ve kicked butt with.

But Ashwini tries too hard and too many things. Somewhere between all this, for your viewing pleasure, there’s Tanisha who doesn’t seem to care two hoots about the length of her role or wardrobe and Upen Patel as her partner-in-crime… The crime being stealing the diamond and hiding it in a petrol tank… Moral of the story: Always choose clothes big enough to hide a stone.

Ridiculous? Wait until you hear Neetu Chandra and her team of cops talk in chaste Haryanvi in Pondicherry or the bad guy (called Papa… duh, the Indian Godfather) with a fixation for adding S to every word or the trained, jinxed bomb specialist or the rival Don obsessively compulsive about bad poetry…

In spite of that huge line-up of stars and ensemble, the film looks like it’s shot on a gee-string budget.

With the volume of jokes touching a new high, the quality doesn’t seem to matter. Even at a success rate of one is to ten, you have about 30-40 laughs in the film. Which is not bad at all if you just want to have a good time. There are a lot of moments where timing salvages the saddest of jokes and there are the silliest of lines delivered with great conviction… often reminding you about ‘Andaz Apna Apna,’ only that this is way more downmarket… So downmarket, that this is down there with ‘Kya Kool Hai Hum’ or ‘Dhamaal’.

Not that downmarket is a bad thing, David Dhawan used to rule that roost. But Ashwini clearly has more potential. If only he knew when to stop. And where.

Genre: Drama
Director: Rob Reiner
Cast: Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman
Storyline: Two cancer patients decide to cross off things from the to-do-before-you-kick-the-bucket list.
Bottomline: Watch it for these two good men

There are so many reasons to watch The Bucket List, even before you’ve heard from someone who’s seen the movie.

First, it’s by the same guy who directed When Harry Met Sally and A Few Good Men.

Second, Jack Nicholson. In what first seemed like a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest spin-off.

Third, that fine gentleman called Morgan Freeman, a striking contrast to Nicholson’s eccentricity and loud style of acting, perfectly complimenting his co-star.

But then, there’s also the big put-off. Why watch a movie where these two delightful old men are all set to kick the bucket? Terminally ill? Cancer?

Because, this is no serious fare.

It’s light-hearted to the point of being formulaic and in your face with the writers not even pretending to make it look random, sudden or spontaneous.

First, they drew up a list of things that are top favourites in almost everybody’s bucket-list: Skydiving, getting a tattoo, trashing beautiful sports cars, flying to the wonders of the world in your own jet…

Add a few ones that have the potential to squeeze sentimentality out. Like, help a total random stranger, kiss the most beautiful girl, witness something truly majestic, laugh till you cry…

Then, just find excuses to play them out, sandwiched with great conversation and scenes of bonding between these two phenomenally talented actors.

Yes, it’s predictable, it is manufactured feel-good, doctored drama and all that. But there are moments in the film that stay long after the curtains come down.

We live for moments like that.

Arvind got a message on his msn messenger supposedly from me.

The message was: My password is redunderwear and my credit card number is 9876 2353 2876 2223.

Twenty minutes later:

Arvind says: (3:26:49 AM)
dai did you message me?
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:26:57 AM)
nope
Arvind says: (3:27:14 AM)
something about redunderwear and a credit card number
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:27:27 AM)
thats my password
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:27:30 AM)
how did you know?
Arvind says: (3:27:51 AM)
well you messaged me in the middle of a meeting when everyone was staring at my screen
Arvind says: (3:27:52 AM)
lol
Arvind says: (3:28:00 AM)
anyway, I pretended it was spam!
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:28:02 AM)
oh! i didnt message you
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:28:10 AM)
must be spam
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:28:14 AM)
what was the number?
Arvind says: (3:28:24 AM)
I don’t have it now, it closed
Arvind says: (3:28:28 AM)
but it was you for sure
Arvind says: (3:28:40 AM)
you said your password was redunderwear and the credit card number was something
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:28:53 AM)
must be some virus
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:29:09 AM)
or one of those autogenerated mischief cookies
Arvind says: (3:29:16 AM)
not on a mac
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:29:33 AM)
hmmm, what time was this?
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:29:47 AM)
redunderwear is my password
Arvind says: (3:30:27 AM)
20 mins back
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:30:46 AM)
its 3.30 here in india now and there’s no one else here
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:30:53 AM)
3.30 a.m.
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:31:03 AM)
gotto be a spambot
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:31:09 AM)
that has found out my pwd
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:31:15 AM)
i hope it hasnt sent it to everyone
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:31:54 AM)
did it say anything else?
Arvind says: (3:33:10 AM)
i don’t know
Arvind says: (3:33:17 AM)
only the first message pops up on my screen
Arvind says: (3:33:26 AM)
after that I closed the program
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:34:11 AM)
hope people just did the same
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:34:17 AM)
dont want my credit card number at risk
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:34:28 AM)
how does it keep track of passwords and credit card numbers?
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:34:37 AM)
i think amazon isnt secure
Arvind says: (3:35:22 AM)
how is amazon involved?
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:35:38 AM)
been using my credit card on amazon quite a bit
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:35:41 AM)
over the last month
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:35:47 AM)
oh and once on rediff
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:35:52 AM)
and my books still havent come
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:35:58 AM)
must be rediff then
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:36:04 AM)
they had free shipping
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:36:17 AM)
and i found two Lost spin off novels
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:36:20 AM)
they are rare
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:36:24 AM)
so i ordered them
Arvind says: (3:36:33 AM)
ok
Arvind says: (3:36:48 AM)
Something fishy about the whole thing
Arvind says: (3:37:05 AM)
I’ve never heard of IM clients sending out messages on their own
Arvind says: (3:37:11 AM)
so, what IM software are you using
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:37:22 AM)
msn messenger
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:37:26 AM)
that i downloaded for mac
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:37:30 AM)
long ago
Arvind says: (3:37:39 AM)
hmm
Arvind says: (3:37:58 AM)
should be fine
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:38:09 AM)
hope so!
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:38:16 AM)
wokay me off to sleep now…
Arvind says: (3:38:19 AM)
alright
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:38:23 AM)
Have a great All Fool’s Day machchi!
Sudhish Kamath says: (3:38:24 AM)
Arvind says: (3:38:27 AM)
Sukumar also joined the cult of mac
Arvind says: (3:38:29 AM)
wotha
Arvind says: (3:38:38 AM)
should’ve known

If not for such cheap thrills, how would I get sleep on April 1?

Genre: Action
Director: S.T. Vendhan
Cast: Shaam, Sneha, Arun Pandian, Aravind Akash, Aditya
Storyline: A rich girl falls in love with her bearded bodyguard
Bottomline:  Capital Punishment

All you baby-faced heroes with chocolate-boy looks, learn from Shaam. Yes, you too Abbas. Here’s how you make the transition from lover boy to macho man.

First. Grow a beard. The Metrosexual look will not take you beyond the metro. Paruthiveeran would not have looked like a ‘veeran’ without facial hair. Chithiram Pesudhadi would’ve been incomplete without the ‘dhadi’. The beard helps in defining character – it instantly tells us the basics. One, he’s poor. He’s got no money to shave. Two, he’s hiding a sad story behind the beard. Also, keeping a beard may just fool and draw at least a small per cent of Vijaya T. Rajendherr fans out of mistaken identity.

Two. Talk less, smile even less. Let your hands do all the talking. Let’s say someone comes and asks you what time it is. If you tell him the time, you become an extra and he becomes the hero. So don’t reply. Give him one across the face. Next, the girl. In an action film, you don’t woo the girl. The girl should woo you. Never ever smile at her. This adds mystery to the two already established points of character-development. Even if she does not like you in the beginning, once she sees you beat up guys, she’ll get scared and learn to behave. First, she may hire you to protect her and later realise it’s probably cheaper to get your lifetime services.

Thirdly, it is very important, absolutely necessary to throw in a Superstar tribute. Make sure there are at least ten rows of extras dancing behind you. This usually gives dance masters ample scope to choreograph according to your limitations. Besides, the dance steps in the movies these days are so ridiculous that unless you have a hundred of them doing it at the same time, you can’t say: Come on. See, everyone’s doing it. It’s cool.

Fourth, the flashback. Throw in a 15-20 minute sequence where you are a 12th standard student. If you were Little Superstar or Chiyaan Vikram, you could’ve played the role yourself, knocking off some kilos. But since, you are not yet so blessed with that kind of versatility, you get some promising young actor to essay your past. (On a more serious note, this is the single most mature thing Shaam has done in the movie – not passed off as a standard 12 student). This sequence should involve a tragedy.

Fifth, the quintessential, most definitive trait of being a mass hero – the dandanaka – the traditional dead body dance. If you are an import from another city, here’s how you get a hold of the basics. A. Start with the face. Stick your tongue out and bite it. B. Pretend you’re flying a kite and pulling the thread. C. Wear a lungi or at least tie-up the two ends of the shirt instead of buttoning it and do the pelvic thrusts at 40 per minute, making lustful advances at the heroine.

So that’s how Shaam turned into a mass hero Inba with director Vendhan’s insightful inputs. A mass hero does not have one villain – he has many. So there’s Arun Pandian (Malai da… Malai Ganesan goes the original punch-line) forced to play over the top, there’s the Chennai 28 boy Aravind Akash made to play pervert and there’s Billa’s Aditya as his evil brother and they all with their men, take turns to provide six fights while

Sneha is solely entrusted with the task of making the film look good, dancing to loop-based music (P.B. Balaji). Poor Rekha and Sulakshana make an earnest attempt like the rest of the cast but there’s only so much you can do in a mass-hero film. And we won’t even talk about the horror unleashed in the name of Kanja Karuppu’s ‘kaamedy’.

By all means, go for Inba. It’s the most inspiring piece of Tamil cinema. If this chap can make a movie, so can you.

Genre: Action
Director: Abbas-Mustan
Cast: Saif Ali Khan, Anil Kapoor, Akshaye Khanna, Bipasha Basu, Katrina Kaif, Sameera Reddy
Storyline: Two brothers try to outsmart each other
Bottomline: Run!

Curiosity, they say and it did, killed those who went for Race wondering how bad can it really get.

The power of good looking people can never be under-estimated.

Come on, with a cast like Katrina, Bipasha and Sameera, all for the price of a ticket, which guy would want to miss out on the drool fest. Or which girl would give a Saif Ali Khan film a pass?

Dhoom, Cash and now Race are all from the same stable – the pin-up movies where the idea is just to let these good looking people wear awesome clothes and later find excuses to get them to take it off. First let them jump into bed with one, and then mix and match, and invent reasons for them to swap partners. And hey, you get the storyline for Race.

It couldn’t have been written any other way. About 80 per cent of it was shot on the basis of who was available for shoot. Here are excerpts from the production notes.

Schedule 1:
Actors available: Saif Ali Khan, Akshaye Khanna, Bipasha Basu, Katrina Kaif.
There’s a delay in Abbas-Mustan arriving at the set and Bipasha who came first is getting restless. The spot boy calls Abbas Bhai.
Abbas: Shoot something with her. We are there in four hours.
Spotboy: But what do we shoot?
Mustan: Ask her to walk up and down the ramp. Tell her she’s playing a model. Tell the costume designer to give her shortest possible skirts.
Bipasha is thrilled.
By lunch, the director-duo arrives.
Saif: You are late. You haven’t told us what the script is yet. Half a day of our commitment is already over.
Akshaye: Saif and me are cool, we don’t have hang-ups. We’re like brothers but we still need to know what role we’re playing.
Abbas: Very good. You’re brothers in the film.
Mustan: You love each other very much.
Abbas: So much that you are willing to donate your girlfriend Bipasha to your younger brother.
Saif: What will I do if I donate Bipasha?
Mustan: You have Katrina, your secretary.
Akshaye and Saif both shake hands. What a brilliant start.

Schedule 2:
Actors available: Akshaye, Bipasha
Saif had to go out with Kareena. Akshaye waiting at the set, has had a few rounds after getting increasingly frustrated with the work ethic.
Akshaye: Hic! How are we supposed to shoot without my brother?
Abbas: We don’t need Saif today. It’s about how you plot against your brother.
Akshaye: But yesterday, you said we love each other.
Mustan: But he’s not your real brother. He’s soutela. He has all property. All you have is a bottle.
Abbas: Start shoot. Just keep drinking. Roll Camera.

Around lunch, Saif walks in.
Saif: What’s going on, you started shoot without me?
Mustan: Your brother’s an alcoholic and you just walk in and find out.

Schedule 3:
Actors available: Saif, Bipasha
Akshaye couldn’t make it because he was shooting for another film.
Knowing the directors are capable of shooting without him, Saif confronts them.
Saif: I want to know what is the script. What is my role.
Abbas: Yes, you just found out your brother is plotting against you.
Mustan: So you shift from Bipasha to Katrina. Let’s shoot song.

Schedule 4:
Actors available: Akshaye, Katrina.
Bipasha is tired of being overworked and decides to spend quality time with John. Akshaye reports to shoot to find only Katrina.
Akshaye: But isn’t Bipasha my girl?
Abbas: But your brother found out about you and Bipasha plotting.
Mustan: So we are going to pair you up with Katrina. Shoot song.
Akshaye: Great, I get both the women.
Akshaye couldn’t have been more happier.

Schedule 5:
Bipasha and Saif show up demanding an explanation for this betrayal.
Bipasha: Fuckers, Katrina is getting more songs than me. What am I doing in the film?
Abbas: Well, she has only songs, you have scenes.
Saif: Sorry I got wet in the rain, I don’t have the continuity costume.
Mustan: It’s okay, we are going to shoot a rain scene today.
Abbas: A hot lovemaking scene with the horses.
Bipasha: Cool, what should I do?
Mustan: You bite him and do your Jism thing all over again… It’s your movie.

Schedule 6:
Katrina: I’m walking out of this movie. I thought I had equal role and I am getting only songs?
So Abbas Mustan come up with a new plan.
Abbas: Change location. Insert flashback. We are going to say you and Saif got married in Cape Town.
Mustan: Tomorrow, we leave for Cape Town.
Katrina: So I get the guy??
Mustan: Which guy?
Katrina: Saif.
Mustan: Of course.
Katrina: But we shot a song with me and Akshaye.
Abbas: We will figure that out, don’t worry.

Schedule 7:
Akshaye and Saif finally make it to the same schedule.
Saif: What’s the scene?
Abbas: The same scene from Baazigar, you are talking when one of you pushes the other.
Bipasha walks in.
Bipasha: So what do I do?
Mustan: You push Saif. Because you plotted against Saif with Akshaye.
Saif: So I die in the movie?
Abbas: Arrey, it’s only interval, we’ll bring you back.
Akshaye: I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m just going to drink some more and watch yesterday’s rushes.
As he’s sitting and watching rushes of Saif-Bipasha lovemaking scene.
Akshaye: What has the world come to. My brother doing my wife.
Abbas-Mustan hear this.
Abbas: What a brilliant line. We have to use this in the movie.
Mustan: Audience will clap.
Akshaye: As long as you know what’s going on.

And just as they sat to tie up all the loose ends, the producer tells them Anil Kapoor and Sameera have given dates for the film too.

Schedule 8:
Anil Kapoor walks in with his breakfast basket from the hotel with Sameera.
Abbas: This is brilliant. Like Karamchand. You keep eating fruits through out the movie.
Mustan: You solve this mystery.
Sameera: And what do I do?
Abbas: You are going to play someone who does not understand what’s happening and keep asking silly questions.
Anil Kapoor: If you don’t mind Sameera, hold my banana, I have to take a leak.
Mustan: Wah! Kya dialogue hai Sir. Roll Camera.

After eight schedules of shoot, Abbas-Mustan went back to the table and sat with the Editor and cinematographer and brainstormed for the next 30 minutes on what are the other scenes they needed to shoot.

Race was written in that 30 minutes.

Genre: Thriller
Director: Tony Gilroy
Cast: George Clooney, Tom Wilkinson, Tilda Swinton, Sydney Pollack
Storyline: A lawyer designated to clean up the mess for his firm’s hi-profile clients finds himself in a moral dilemma.
Bottomline: The thinking man’s thriller

You simply must watch it twice to completely savour and revel in its brilliance.

It’s impossible to believe this is Tony Gilroy’s directorial debut until you find out he’s the same chap who wrote screenplays for The Devil’s Advocate and the Bourne trilogy.

The most awesome thing – and also the most dangerous thing – about a writer-director is that he’s not going to throw away those elaborate lines he’s written all that easily.
Tony’s touch lies in making it all fit into the storytelling, with a fair bit of indulgence of course, right from the opening sequence.

I begin with the writing because that’s what you notice even before they show you the guys the film is about. Tony isn’t interested in telling you the story. He is excited about letting you discover the story.

The blatant indirectness of the narrative, the unabashed verbosity of writing, combined with understated performances (the end credit sequence even beats the subtlety of Will Smith’s final ‘Happyness’) and sublime editing (Tony employing his brother John at the desk) make Michael Clayton the film for the discerning movie buff.

There’s an opening voiceover conversation between Michael (Clooney) and his colleague (Wilkinson) that sets the tone for the film. One with the revelation of an epiphany manifested through insane profundity. Then, there’s a string of things that happen one night establishing the basics (the who, the what, the where and the when of the story) and suddenly Boom – an explosion, all within the first five minutes of the film. The rest of the 110 minutes, of course, is about the why-it-happened and the how-it-resolves.

But don’t let that put you off. Though it seems complex, Michael Clayton is essentially the simple good versus evil tale. Only that here the good, the bad and the crazy all seem to do basically the same thing: take their respective sides in a law-suit.

There’s a rich corporate under the scanner, a meticulous law firm protecting its interest, a senior fixer who has just had a moment of epiphany and his broke buddy torn between his friendship and loyalty to the firm. They are all in the business of fixing things and cleaning up the mess with alarmingly clinical precision, until they’ve all met their match.

So yes, it is a talking-talking movie with very few scenes of action used effectively and briefly for maximum impact. Hence, most of the storytelling rests on the director and his bunch of actors.

The casting is a masterstroke. Clooney walks away with one of his finest underplayed characters ever, deserving every bit of the Oscar nomination. Spontaneous, charming, suave, smooth, intelligent, troubled and his face says it all.

Tom Wilkinson is indescribably mind-blowing with his flawless delivery as a troubled, tormented soul of corporate machinery. Too bad he missed out on the statuette despite the consolatory Academy nomination.

Tilda Swinton probably has all of 15 minutes of screen-time scattered through the film. And the fact that she won an Oscar speaks volumes for her performance. And, Sydney Pollack and… Okay, you get the picture.

Very rarely, maybe once or twice a year, we get a film with half a dozen Oscar nominations playing in town. A film that actually challenges your thinking. Don’t even think. Just go for it.