Hey folks, I am starting a quick review section. This is a single paragraph review of movies that I don't want to write a full review for. Not that they are good/bad in a specific way or that I cannot write. If you want me to write a full review, make a request and I shall do that. These quick reviews are not meant to be of a prescriptive nature.
The Many Cameos of Date Night (2010)
Starring two of television's funniest people, Date Night is dangerously poised as it creates expectations that are tough to match. Tina Fey and Steve Carell, pull it off surprisingly well. We all know that 30Rock creator/star Tina Fey knows to get big stars in her show all the time. The movie reminds us of that with the uncountable cameos. However, the similarity ends there. The story happens in one night. A boring couple with a tough and ordinary life go to the "city" from their Jersey home for a special date. Chaos. This is how the one-liner of the movie looked. There are a lot of genres overlapping in this movie, and it is entertaining overall. Some may find the comedy a little weak, given the heavyweights; but the movie smartly avoids that road of following a comic-spot with another. It sticks to the script and gives glimpses of many interesting characters who create a moment and leave you wanting for more. The ending, however, is a let-down from the rest of the movie. A special mention must be made to the cameos. Be it Wahlberg, Liotta, James Franco or Mila Kunis; they just steal the show. I give this film a regular comedy rating of 6.2 while it takes home a poor 4.4 rating on the Woody comedy scale due to its ending.
Timeline (2003)
This is not a new movie, based on the novel by Micheal Crichton that I watched the other day on TV. It had really young and unestablished Paul Walker, Michael Sheen and Gerard Butler in leading roles of a movie that deals with time as a fluid entity and history is something that we can participate in. Despite the over-simplification, the movie was entertaining in its re-narration of the 100 years war. The acting was good but the overall quality of the production was wanting. After Jurassic Park, maybe a more daring producer or a director with a greater vision could have helped the film. You can watch it once if you can really bite your teeth for the first twenty-five boring minutes where nothing happens, much like Jurassic Park. The movie gets an action/adventure rating of 6.4 for good story-telling and Gerard Butler and Michael Sheen but it cannot garner more than 4.4 points in my conception of Total-Cinema.
Mad City (1997)
I am always a big fan of hostage movies. Starting from the entire Bruce Willis series of hostage situations, to the more complex Misery style of hostage situations. But in this dangerously real hostage drama starring John Travolta and Dustin Hoffman, the human element was powerful but not overdone while the ironic reality was played at pace with the hostage storyline itself. Poignant moments make this movie a memorable affair; like when a network bigwig asks Hoffman's character to convince Travolta to surrender in the evening if possible, for their ratings need a boost. The movie really drives it home at the last moment when Hoffman really feels it, by saying, We killed him. The big leading cast of Dustin Hoffman and John Travolta and the basic hostage situation makes us expect much. At one point, inside the forty-minute mark, it threatens to fizzle out into a romantic tale of an overnight hero. But that is only a taste of things to come. This dark commentary about media and society in general shows how easy it is for us to bare our fangs when a person becomes an icon on television. We are like little children, that want to play with and kill the things that amuse us; not considering for a moment that the "thing" has life in it. At times over-dramatic, and definitely not the best movies of the respective main actors, this movie still has something to say and makes an impact for that reason. I give this movie a drama/thriller rating of 6.6 for excellent acting and a very-grounded in reality plot. It also gains on the Total-Cinema scale to take back a respectable 5.2.
22 July 2010
Art of the Popular - The Hari Movies
I am sorry that this particular post is not going to be accessible to all of you; in the sense, I am talking to a very specific audience who watch and enjoy the popular Tamil movies of the Action/Drama/Masala genre. I shall try to make it as global as possible, but some of the references, particularly the specific discussions of movies will go over the head of a non-Tamil audience. But here is the general idea behind this post; sometimes, we confuse art with what is highly coded and meeting a few parameters set by some dead people. (But) is that always art? If art is put in a straight-jacket saying that it can behave in only such and such manner, does it not create recopied vapidities that have nothing original to say? This discussion is as old as art itself and a lot of smart people have spoken a lot about it. I have nothing to add to this. However, I have something to confess.
When it comes to movies, I am a bit of a snob.
I usually do not indulge in "low" and "vulgar" movies, that have nothing to offer to me in either creative content or style. There have been a lot of movies I have stopped watching and deleted on the spot after the first twenty minutes, which are make or break for me. At times I have wondered if I am being too judgmental; for after all, these people put in that much effort and time into making a bad movie as they do in making a good movie. Now consider the Tamil movie scene; where there are directors who produce utterly unwatchable crap despite great expectations and at times, years into making the movie. They even have artistic pretensions. In this situation, there are a few directors who can finish a movie in under three months, tell a tried and tested story with five songs and four action sequences including a chase, two supporting character deaths and an ultimate twist where the hero comes out looking a million bucks. Surprisingly, despite the cliches, the punch-dialogues, the predictability, these movies work in a HUGE way. One such director, that I want to talk about here, is Hari.
Couple of nights ago, when I was not getting any sleep, but also was not ready for any serious movie watching, I played Singam. Into the first fifteen minutes, I was hooked. The tempo was not forced, the story-line, despite the cliches, was interesting. It was a cat-mouse tale repackaged in modern Tamil Nadu, where the key issue of whose "zone" it is, is played up in an excellent manner. Surya keeps screaming at the top of his voice most of the movie and Prakash Raj has not played the role even an inch away from his role in Ghilli and Anushka is so replacable in the movie. Still, it is an enjoyable two hours traffic. Not bad, I was telling myself. Then I just quickly recalled all the Hari movies (and later checked the net to get a complete list) and found out that of all the movies, I have not seen just two, and despite the masala-brand of film-making, I had enjoyed every one of his movies.
Thamizh was a film that looked like it belonged more to the 90s than in the 2000s, but it seems like we forgot that many people still liked the familiar 90s over the unsteady 2000s. Saamy proved that he was no one-trick-wonder. Vikram was repackaged as a masss-hero, despite the competition from Surya's talked about cop-film at the same time, Kaakha Kaakha. Though I like the latter film a LOT, I must admit that the Vikram-starrer would have spoken to a lot more people than KK. Arul was a forgettable rehash of Thamizh but Kovil showed that Simbu was more of a man than just his fingers. Aaru was Hari's first venture in Chennai and he looked unsure about the city where so many tales had to be told. The venture was not a big success, but Surya saw the potential in their combination and it would not be too long before they came back together with the highly-successful Vel. Iyya was a movie that sold itself too much before it came out; people realized why the story was written for Rajnikanth and why noone else could fill his shoes. However, good things were said about this film for its strong village core and commendable characterizations. Thamirabarani, gave Vishal a good break in the B, C centers with a simple village-feud tale. Singam gave a different cop-image for Surya from the tight-lipped KK version. I am sorry, I have not seen Seval. Now, that is a commendable degree of success for a director who works on a shoe-string budget and a really tight schedule. Why did I still pretend to be above watching Hari movies?
That got me thinking. Here is a guy that I would not want to get caught saying a good word about and who has probably made about five movies out of a single storyline, but has kept each variant very entertaining. I have friends, who might be reading this, who would instantly jump on an opportunity to piss on his work. I would just like to point out that some of their favorite "hollywood" directors who are so much superior in the craft of movies, hardly shift between genres in their illustrious careers. Something I always believed in, is proven true in Hari's work. That is why I am not ashamed to say that I am a Hari fan. He knows the pulse of the audience. Even those who come out of the theatre saying that there was nothing substantial in the film would accept that the audience Hari is targetting are not looking for something substantial. They are not in a specific center or a demograph. They are people, who are bored and want to laugh, be thrilled, get angry, guess and overall, be entertained, for a two hour traffic. He gives us all that. That is why, like Shakespeare, Hari, is a crowd-pleasing genius who will not worry so much about legacy but will end up having one.
When it comes to movies, I am a bit of a snob.
I usually do not indulge in "low" and "vulgar" movies, that have nothing to offer to me in either creative content or style. There have been a lot of movies I have stopped watching and deleted on the spot after the first twenty minutes, which are make or break for me. At times I have wondered if I am being too judgmental; for after all, these people put in that much effort and time into making a bad movie as they do in making a good movie. Now consider the Tamil movie scene; where there are directors who produce utterly unwatchable crap despite great expectations and at times, years into making the movie. They even have artistic pretensions. In this situation, there are a few directors who can finish a movie in under three months, tell a tried and tested story with five songs and four action sequences including a chase, two supporting character deaths and an ultimate twist where the hero comes out looking a million bucks. Surprisingly, despite the cliches, the punch-dialogues, the predictability, these movies work in a HUGE way. One such director, that I want to talk about here, is Hari.
Couple of nights ago, when I was not getting any sleep, but also was not ready for any serious movie watching, I played Singam. Into the first fifteen minutes, I was hooked. The tempo was not forced, the story-line, despite the cliches, was interesting. It was a cat-mouse tale repackaged in modern Tamil Nadu, where the key issue of whose "zone" it is, is played up in an excellent manner. Surya keeps screaming at the top of his voice most of the movie and Prakash Raj has not played the role even an inch away from his role in Ghilli and Anushka is so replacable in the movie. Still, it is an enjoyable two hours traffic. Not bad, I was telling myself. Then I just quickly recalled all the Hari movies (and later checked the net to get a complete list) and found out that of all the movies, I have not seen just two, and despite the masala-brand of film-making, I had enjoyed every one of his movies.
Thamizh was a film that looked like it belonged more to the 90s than in the 2000s, but it seems like we forgot that many people still liked the familiar 90s over the unsteady 2000s. Saamy proved that he was no one-trick-wonder. Vikram was repackaged as a masss-hero, despite the competition from Surya's talked about cop-film at the same time, Kaakha Kaakha. Though I like the latter film a LOT, I must admit that the Vikram-starrer would have spoken to a lot more people than KK. Arul was a forgettable rehash of Thamizh but Kovil showed that Simbu was more of a man than just his fingers. Aaru was Hari's first venture in Chennai and he looked unsure about the city where so many tales had to be told. The venture was not a big success, but Surya saw the potential in their combination and it would not be too long before they came back together with the highly-successful Vel. Iyya was a movie that sold itself too much before it came out; people realized why the story was written for Rajnikanth and why noone else could fill his shoes. However, good things were said about this film for its strong village core and commendable characterizations. Thamirabarani, gave Vishal a good break in the B, C centers with a simple village-feud tale. Singam gave a different cop-image for Surya from the tight-lipped KK version. I am sorry, I have not seen Seval. Now, that is a commendable degree of success for a director who works on a shoe-string budget and a really tight schedule. Why did I still pretend to be above watching Hari movies?
That got me thinking. Here is a guy that I would not want to get caught saying a good word about and who has probably made about five movies out of a single storyline, but has kept each variant very entertaining. I have friends, who might be reading this, who would instantly jump on an opportunity to piss on his work. I would just like to point out that some of their favorite "hollywood" directors who are so much superior in the craft of movies, hardly shift between genres in their illustrious careers. Something I always believed in, is proven true in Hari's work. That is why I am not ashamed to say that I am a Hari fan. He knows the pulse of the audience. Even those who come out of the theatre saying that there was nothing substantial in the film would accept that the audience Hari is targetting are not looking for something substantial. They are not in a specific center or a demograph. They are people, who are bored and want to laugh, be thrilled, get angry, guess and overall, be entertained, for a two hour traffic. He gives us all that. That is why, like Shakespeare, Hari, is a crowd-pleasing genius who will not worry so much about legacy but will end up having one.
19 July 2010
I guess this time I am really leaving...
Is not such a great or significant thing when there is no finality involved. You don't really leave; but just go visiting someplace else. A moment occurs in each person's life where there is a decision made. It might be big or small; but the theme remains the change if it has to make the intended effect. It is actually less of a decision and more of a reconciliation with the truth. A moment, when we realize that the place we are leaving will never be the same anymore. It is fleeting and ethereal as it is. But it will grow more distant and at times unrecognizable. With enough time; it will be just as much a stranger as is the next city.
This is what I wanted to share with the world out there. That; the city is only the people who make up the city. The city does not live. It does not breathe. It OPERATES. It operates according to terms set down by the people who are in it. It operates in a positive or a negative way to the individual based on the person's dynamics with the city. In short, without you, Chinna and Infant, Chennai will never be the same. There are so many people who are dear to me in this city; but there are so few who can define what the city is. And I leave a big chunk of myself, when I move to the next stop in the journey.
For those who know me; I am not the kind of guy who needs to fuss around about stuff. I look at life from the generalties and look out for exceptions. This ten day trip, can be looked at from what was different from the previous trips. This trip was special because... actually, there is no reason. NO single reason. Just that... There was an actual revisitation to the many moments I have lived here. Everything stood for something else. When I was dealing with my nephew or a brat at a birthday party, I was learning about parenting. When I got drenched in the rain outside a juice-bar, I was thinking about the so many days when we had ridden on bikes in the rain. Everything stood for something else; either in the past or the future. I hardly did half the things I had on my list to be done at Chennai, on both the practical, day to day front as well as the more whimsical and indulgent version.
I did a lot of things, mind you; but it is the things that did not happen make a list.
I did not go out for a Tamil Play.
I did not buy books.
I did not fix me new glasses.
I did not get a pair of crutches.
I did not smoke a final cigar.
I did not taste roast beef.
I did not play pool.
I did not visit the Library.
I did not visit my professors.
I did not meet many of my friends.
I did not attend the school reunion.
I did not even taste the Aavin Kulfi.
I did not walk in the beach.
I did not go to the beach everyday as I thought I would.
I did not see the sunrise.
I did not go down the IT corridor.
I did not have a drop of alcohol.
I did not see Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya/ or any Tamil/ Telugu movie.
I did not have the play reading.
I did not go to Sparky's or Anjappar's.Thinking of it, I did not go out for a single day of proper dinner with my friends.
But I feel so much more pumped up about this trip than the others where I had done all these things. Then Chinna's words come back to me; this trip was special because there was an effort to make it memorable. Most nights and days passed with a lot of residual conversations and plans that never materialized. But they were all great because of just that; residual conversations. There was a sense of all those moments we had shared as well as what was going to happen. Nostalgia is both the past and the future simultaneously. And then... Silence.
My bags are packed. Tomorrow, I will be back in Kolkata. Worrying about things happening and not happening. Things that will dictate the course of my life. And things, in general. Life will resume. I will go back to a routine. My holiday space is over. Everyday is setting in. But it is not the freedom I will miss. It is the people I spent it with.
Cheers Mr Bond and Back-Bent.
Bump; motta blimp.
This is what I wanted to share with the world out there. That; the city is only the people who make up the city. The city does not live. It does not breathe. It OPERATES. It operates according to terms set down by the people who are in it. It operates in a positive or a negative way to the individual based on the person's dynamics with the city. In short, without you, Chinna and Infant, Chennai will never be the same. There are so many people who are dear to me in this city; but there are so few who can define what the city is. And I leave a big chunk of myself, when I move to the next stop in the journey.
For those who know me; I am not the kind of guy who needs to fuss around about stuff. I look at life from the generalties and look out for exceptions. This ten day trip, can be looked at from what was different from the previous trips. This trip was special because... actually, there is no reason. NO single reason. Just that... There was an actual revisitation to the many moments I have lived here. Everything stood for something else. When I was dealing with my nephew or a brat at a birthday party, I was learning about parenting. When I got drenched in the rain outside a juice-bar, I was thinking about the so many days when we had ridden on bikes in the rain. Everything stood for something else; either in the past or the future. I hardly did half the things I had on my list to be done at Chennai, on both the practical, day to day front as well as the more whimsical and indulgent version.
I did a lot of things, mind you; but it is the things that did not happen make a list.
I did not go out for a Tamil Play.
I did not buy books.
I did not fix me new glasses.
I did not get a pair of crutches.
I did not smoke a final cigar.
I did not taste roast beef.
I did not play pool.
I did not visit the Library.
I did not visit my professors.
I did not meet many of my friends.
I did not attend the school reunion.
I did not even taste the Aavin Kulfi.
I did not walk in the beach.
I did not go to the beach everyday as I thought I would.
I did not see the sunrise.
I did not go down the IT corridor.
I did not have a drop of alcohol.
I did not see Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya/ or any Tamil/ Telugu movie.
I did not have the play reading.
I did not go to Sparky's or Anjappar's.Thinking of it, I did not go out for a single day of proper dinner with my friends.
But I feel so much more pumped up about this trip than the others where I had done all these things. Then Chinna's words come back to me; this trip was special because there was an effort to make it memorable. Most nights and days passed with a lot of residual conversations and plans that never materialized. But they were all great because of just that; residual conversations. There was a sense of all those moments we had shared as well as what was going to happen. Nostalgia is both the past and the future simultaneously. And then... Silence.
My bags are packed. Tomorrow, I will be back in Kolkata. Worrying about things happening and not happening. Things that will dictate the course of my life. And things, in general. Life will resume. I will go back to a routine. My holiday space is over. Everyday is setting in. But it is not the freedom I will miss. It is the people I spent it with.
Cheers Mr Bond and Back-Bent.
Bump; motta blimp.
12 July 2010
The Final Word
Give me freedom
Give me fire
Give me reason
Take me higher
And for the reason that I was naive enough to believe this to be the spirit of the FIFA Football World Cup 2010, I am a disappointed man today. 12th July 2010 (11th for those who chronologically "happen" after India), is a black day in all of Sports and Sporting events. Spain, the Champions from Euro 2008, the team with heavyweights like Casillas, Fabregas, Villa and Torres, the team who's dominance in possession of the football in the semi-finals sent home the Mighty Germans, became WORLD CHAMPIONS. As my friend painfully reminded me, history does not record HOW but just WHAT happened. For this reason, I want to pen this down, that Spain won the match and the championship; but they behaved not in the least like a champion side.
Today; Spain may have won the greatest prize in the football world; but the football world lost something - Honor.
There are not many occasions where one would usually consider using a sentence which has both "spaniards" and "cowards" in the same line; but when playing negative football for a good two hours is the only way of winning, the sentence forms itself. It was a big stage. People were nervy. The anxiety rushes out often as aggression. But the teams that made it to the very top of the best of the best in the footballing world, they are expected to know beyond pushing the next guy down to get possession of the ball.
Oranje; was a color that neutralized the Spanish advances and launched a few good attacks of their own during the course of the match. However, when one team gets showered with Yellow cards and free-kicks being awarded to the poorest actor swooning to the ground from the other team, one starts thinking. What about winning with dignity? After posing around with piss-poor on-field attitude the Spanish team managed every dirty trick in the book. However, one wonders how much of their attitude won the game for them; for the Hollanders despite holding fair-play as a virtue, managed to survive 118 minutes with their heads above the water. What a ridiculous moment it was, when the coach kept signaling demanding a penalty kick just as three of the Spanish players just fell faking consecutively. Incidentally, the man who scored the only and winning goal for Spain was someone who faked a fall just to promptly get up and push another player deliberately to the ground. He deserved a Red card for that. But he has become Spain's biggest hero.
Of course, there was Arjen Robben; on the other hand. He who knew that something had been set irrevocably on its path when he blinked and shot a moment too late. It must have been a sinking feeling to know that between him and Casillas, he would have won. That was the turning point of this match. Not the second such attempt where Puyol was dragging Robben by his waist to the ground and was not even awarded a free kick. Oh wait; Robben was awarded something immediately after - a Yellow Card.
The sheer number of Yellow Cards is an indicator of how surprisingly one-sided the tough-justice of the referee seems to be. While the Spainiards seem to be excellent negotiators talking their way out of offenses; any hint of dissent from the Dutch got them booked. And the unkindest cut of all, there was a red-card as well; again for an excellent piece of acting from a good Spanish actor. I was transported to 2006; where another Red Card brought about an abrupt unfair end to a great career that deserved a second World Title that year. Down to Ten-men, the Neds showed courage and it was no Dutch Courage; for one of the best plays where the Spaniards could not do anything about the passes in place for nearly a minute. They looked strong and seemed to suggest that if any team can come back from a man down and win the match; it was them. But history takes a different course; again.
My friend pointed out that I always have the problem of saying that some other team deserved the victory when they had lost. It was Kahn's Germany in 2002, Zizou's France in 2006 and Oranje in 2010. However, this year is different from the others. The Italian side that won the title last time was a champion side to boot with some of the best players in the world. They could have won the title any given day and nobody would have been surprised. I have a problem with the way France was deprived of an opportunity to have a level playing field; but Italians flexed their strength. But tonight's final is different for the best player on the field was someone who was constantly being hit, kicked, elbowed, crotched, pushed and shoved by different members from the other side. The better team looked down and cried; knowing that history would see them as a statistical anomaly and nothing more. That they would be the only team to have reached the finals thrice without winning even a single title. And that is what will become of them.
However, I saw something else happen too. When we started watching the match, there were three people out of the four in the group supporting the Spanish team and I was a sore Oranje thumb. By the end of the match, there were three who were supporting Holland and the fourth was apologetic for the way that Spain won. It is definitely not a freak incident. I am sure that there are a lot of fans across the globe who "turned" on the guys that they were told they should be supporting. And that is something that the generation that we belong to will remember, silently, of course; but it shall not be forgotten. Future will look back at this fact as a minor footnote. For I said, history only cares about things that did happen. And we will carry this tangible, organic, perishable information that greatness was denied to a team when they had deemed perfectly worthy of it. A few million fans richer, Holland will have to look at their strategies. The Spanish team, the world Champions, will have to look into their souls; if they have any.
I end this post here; hoping that four years down the line in Brazil; things are done in a different way. In a way where true sportsmanship and skill is meted out with its due reward and success.
Until then,
it is I, Hoping.
saravanan mani
Give me fire
Give me reason
Take me higher
And for the reason that I was naive enough to believe this to be the spirit of the FIFA Football World Cup 2010, I am a disappointed man today. 12th July 2010 (11th for those who chronologically "happen" after India), is a black day in all of Sports and Sporting events. Spain, the Champions from Euro 2008, the team with heavyweights like Casillas, Fabregas, Villa and Torres, the team who's dominance in possession of the football in the semi-finals sent home the Mighty Germans, became WORLD CHAMPIONS. As my friend painfully reminded me, history does not record HOW but just WHAT happened. For this reason, I want to pen this down, that Spain won the match and the championship; but they behaved not in the least like a champion side.
Today; Spain may have won the greatest prize in the football world; but the football world lost something - Honor.
There are not many occasions where one would usually consider using a sentence which has both "spaniards" and "cowards" in the same line; but when playing negative football for a good two hours is the only way of winning, the sentence forms itself. It was a big stage. People were nervy. The anxiety rushes out often as aggression. But the teams that made it to the very top of the best of the best in the footballing world, they are expected to know beyond pushing the next guy down to get possession of the ball.
Oranje; was a color that neutralized the Spanish advances and launched a few good attacks of their own during the course of the match. However, when one team gets showered with Yellow cards and free-kicks being awarded to the poorest actor swooning to the ground from the other team, one starts thinking. What about winning with dignity? After posing around with piss-poor on-field attitude the Spanish team managed every dirty trick in the book. However, one wonders how much of their attitude won the game for them; for the Hollanders despite holding fair-play as a virtue, managed to survive 118 minutes with their heads above the water. What a ridiculous moment it was, when the coach kept signaling demanding a penalty kick just as three of the Spanish players just fell faking consecutively. Incidentally, the man who scored the only and winning goal for Spain was someone who faked a fall just to promptly get up and push another player deliberately to the ground. He deserved a Red card for that. But he has become Spain's biggest hero.
Of course, there was Arjen Robben; on the other hand. He who knew that something had been set irrevocably on its path when he blinked and shot a moment too late. It must have been a sinking feeling to know that between him and Casillas, he would have won. That was the turning point of this match. Not the second such attempt where Puyol was dragging Robben by his waist to the ground and was not even awarded a free kick. Oh wait; Robben was awarded something immediately after - a Yellow Card.
The sheer number of Yellow Cards is an indicator of how surprisingly one-sided the tough-justice of the referee seems to be. While the Spainiards seem to be excellent negotiators talking their way out of offenses; any hint of dissent from the Dutch got them booked. And the unkindest cut of all, there was a red-card as well; again for an excellent piece of acting from a good Spanish actor. I was transported to 2006; where another Red Card brought about an abrupt unfair end to a great career that deserved a second World Title that year. Down to Ten-men, the Neds showed courage and it was no Dutch Courage; for one of the best plays where the Spaniards could not do anything about the passes in place for nearly a minute. They looked strong and seemed to suggest that if any team can come back from a man down and win the match; it was them. But history takes a different course; again.
My friend pointed out that I always have the problem of saying that some other team deserved the victory when they had lost. It was Kahn's Germany in 2002, Zizou's France in 2006 and Oranje in 2010. However, this year is different from the others. The Italian side that won the title last time was a champion side to boot with some of the best players in the world. They could have won the title any given day and nobody would have been surprised. I have a problem with the way France was deprived of an opportunity to have a level playing field; but Italians flexed their strength. But tonight's final is different for the best player on the field was someone who was constantly being hit, kicked, elbowed, crotched, pushed and shoved by different members from the other side. The better team looked down and cried; knowing that history would see them as a statistical anomaly and nothing more. That they would be the only team to have reached the finals thrice without winning even a single title. And that is what will become of them.
However, I saw something else happen too. When we started watching the match, there were three people out of the four in the group supporting the Spanish team and I was a sore Oranje thumb. By the end of the match, there were three who were supporting Holland and the fourth was apologetic for the way that Spain won. It is definitely not a freak incident. I am sure that there are a lot of fans across the globe who "turned" on the guys that they were told they should be supporting. And that is something that the generation that we belong to will remember, silently, of course; but it shall not be forgotten. Future will look back at this fact as a minor footnote. For I said, history only cares about things that did happen. And we will carry this tangible, organic, perishable information that greatness was denied to a team when they had deemed perfectly worthy of it. A few million fans richer, Holland will have to look at their strategies. The Spanish team, the world Champions, will have to look into their souls; if they have any.
I end this post here; hoping that four years down the line in Brazil; things are done in a different way. In a way where true sportsmanship and skill is meted out with its due reward and success.
Until then,
it is I, Hoping.
saravanan mani
09 July 2010
In Bruges
Every few years, there comes an actor who impresses us with his first and lands up in a series of movies, some of them good and some bad. But no matter how many good movies the actor is in, there is a saturation point where we just get bored with the actor. It happened to the very talented Mr Clive Owen recently. Jason Statham also fits the bill about a year ago. Colin Farell is not someone that I enjoy watching for this same reason. There was a stretch between late 2004 and early 2007 where every other major Hollywood movie featured him in a starring role. Most of the time, he got practically the same damn role in a different storyline. Despite the fact that I enjoyed a couple of his movies from that phase, I felt that the overdose of Colin Farell was going to kill his career. While others cheered as he moved from one big director to another, I waited for him to do the inevitable. Alexander was not the isolated flop of his career graph in that season. Suddenly, Colin Farell was not a part of major movie deals. We even got to see him on TV, as an Irish brawler in Scrubs. How hard, I was about to say, the mighty have fallen.
But wait, there is more. In 2009, a now-forgotten Colin Farell starred in a movie that does not involve a massive budget or visual effects. It can be billed as a comedy but that would create uncomfortable moments for both the viewers and the movie people. The movie would have been considered to appeal to such a niche audience that its production would have been treated as an artistic indulgence rather than a major Hollywood production. This movie, however, would make Colin Farell relevant again. Perhaps in his best role to date, Farell stars, nay, shines in the film-adaptation of Martin McDonagh's play, In Bruges.
In a day where movies are given awards based on "pull" and star value, one cannot help but be amazed at the deserving few that actually make it big in the scene. In Bruges deserves every award it has won. This movie is a defining moment in Dark Comedy, not only because of the intensity of the plot but also because of the excellent translation of the Pinter-esque Comedy of Menace without becoming too symbolic for the audience to appreciate. When a pregnant moment is heightened by the presence of a really pregnant woman, one cannot help but laugh; but it is not a happy laugh. It is a nervous, tentative, desperate laugh trying to make sense of the concept of Point of No Return.
In Bruges starts out as a clueless enough movie with two men arriving at an unknown town in Belgium. They await their orders. When a hit is wrongly executed by Farell, a chain of command snaps into place. A moment's mistake and the high cost of the same mistake makes up the second half of the movie. The most important thing that we learn from this movie, is the impossibility of either controlling the future as well as rewriting the past.
Last seen in Harry Potter as MadEye Moody, Brendon Gleeson steals the show with his near perfect performance. The two polarities of free-will (of what he wants to do) and discipline (to his master, Ralph Fiennes) are balanced in his single character. Brendon Gleeson as the veteran who understands the horror of Farell and is willing to save him at any cost is just as brilliant as the smooth and passionate Ralph Fiennes. Another actor from the Harry Potter continuity, Fiennes carries over a lot of the darkness from his more fantastical role.
The camera work is so fine, that it leaves an impression that the town must have been pretty for being captured thus. The music is not much to write home about. The editing and the writing is simply outstanding. Perhaps the quality of the movie is because the original play was written by the guy who directed it. Overall, I give In Bruges a regular total of 8.3 and on the Woody scale, it still scores a whopping 8.3
But wait, there is more. In 2009, a now-forgotten Colin Farell starred in a movie that does not involve a massive budget or visual effects. It can be billed as a comedy but that would create uncomfortable moments for both the viewers and the movie people. The movie would have been considered to appeal to such a niche audience that its production would have been treated as an artistic indulgence rather than a major Hollywood production. This movie, however, would make Colin Farell relevant again. Perhaps in his best role to date, Farell stars, nay, shines in the film-adaptation of Martin McDonagh's play, In Bruges.
In a day where movies are given awards based on "pull" and star value, one cannot help but be amazed at the deserving few that actually make it big in the scene. In Bruges deserves every award it has won. This movie is a defining moment in Dark Comedy, not only because of the intensity of the plot but also because of the excellent translation of the Pinter-esque Comedy of Menace without becoming too symbolic for the audience to appreciate. When a pregnant moment is heightened by the presence of a really pregnant woman, one cannot help but laugh; but it is not a happy laugh. It is a nervous, tentative, desperate laugh trying to make sense of the concept of Point of No Return.
In Bruges starts out as a clueless enough movie with two men arriving at an unknown town in Belgium. They await their orders. When a hit is wrongly executed by Farell, a chain of command snaps into place. A moment's mistake and the high cost of the same mistake makes up the second half of the movie. The most important thing that we learn from this movie, is the impossibility of either controlling the future as well as rewriting the past.
Last seen in Harry Potter as MadEye Moody, Brendon Gleeson steals the show with his near perfect performance. The two polarities of free-will (of what he wants to do) and discipline (to his master, Ralph Fiennes) are balanced in his single character. Brendon Gleeson as the veteran who understands the horror of Farell and is willing to save him at any cost is just as brilliant as the smooth and passionate Ralph Fiennes. Another actor from the Harry Potter continuity, Fiennes carries over a lot of the darkness from his more fantastical role.
The camera work is so fine, that it leaves an impression that the town must have been pretty for being captured thus. The music is not much to write home about. The editing and the writing is simply outstanding. Perhaps the quality of the movie is because the original play was written by the guy who directed it. Overall, I give In Bruges a regular total of 8.3 and on the Woody scale, it still scores a whopping 8.3
07 July 2010
The Semis'
Match 1: Netherlands vs Uruguay; Oranje won 3-2
This was too ordinary a match that I felt that staying up till midnight was not really worth it. If one has to achieve a certain quality for a the match Not even close to a WC Finals clash. It was more like a I-pass-the-ball-to-the-opposition-player game. There were a lot of fake falls trying to get fouls on both sides. There was a lot of rough-play and indecent behavior on field from both teams. I know that football is not essentially the gentleman's game and the passion should override everything else. But when passion comes across without flair, it looks grotesque. In other words, passion without flair is not passion at all. Their "aggression" was not backed up by a good game but poor shot-making. Both teams were immature and lacking in respect for both their opponents and the game itself. The longest period that the ball was in play continuously would not have been more than a couple of minutes at best. The Oranje did not look like Total Football; but more like Total Goofball. Every team has their best playmaker in #7. There was Raul Gonzalez, David Beckham, Louis Figo and recently, Bastian Schweinsteiger. However the Dutch #7, Kuyt is nothing but a rough-shodding, brawler who has little play-making ability and a major problem of being a jackass. Arjen Robben was the only one who shone in his good play; but even his sparks came in streaks. The best football in the match was played in the first goal of each team. Both were executed by the captains. Both from a prodigous distance. And both showing excellent control of the so-called disaster ball, Jabulani. However, the magic stopped there. After a racing start, the match was a damp affair. Though the team that I wanted to win succeeded, they were nowhere in the zone. No team deserved to win; but Uruguay blinked first.
Match 2: Spain vs Germany; The Red Devils won 1-0
Another match with lacklustre performances. Seriously, what is the jinx on the semis?? Interestingly, the quarters were a lot more thrilling, whether it was Argentina getting mauled or witnessing Oranje making us go More Oranjy or even Uruguay cheating their way up. This match was boring; not because the team I backed lost - but because they were on the field without a single idea of what was going on. At least half a dozen times, Spain could bring the ball into the Germans' goal-zone using the SAME FRIGGING PLAY!!! How hard is it to mark Villa or better, wise up and change the stupid/repetitive right wing cross to the center. Almost every German pass that looked good was followed up with a German pass that made one cringe. It was a bad day to be a German football fan; not because they lost poorly (which they actually did not - for there were a couple of decisions that went against them); but because they did not play to their potential. The speeed and precision that amazed everyone in the quarters against Argentina, was not there. They were happily losing their plot. Off color is a word that I am forced to use again; but ironically, the Germans were in Black and White. The Spaniards, to give where it is due, were good in parts. The sheer dominance in the ball-possession put a noose around the German team's neck which they themselves tightened by their poor playing. However, the Red Devils were not well-behaved at all. The Podolski-Aamos situation was a classic example for their foul-play. Deliberately stepping on another player's toes is bad enough; but trying to make an appeal for a foul of the other team; how low can you go? But nothing could make a fair excuse for the poor display by the entire German unit.
So overall, which was the better of the two matches for me? Though the pickings are slim; I go with the Spain-Germany match giving it a 2.75 stars out of five for a controlled and even gameplan by the Spaniards. The first Semi gets a barely passing 2.25 stars thanks to the two amazing goals in the first half of the match. Hopefully both the teams that made it to the finals will step up their games. Praying for an explosive final where Oranje and Red cut loose; I sign off!
This was too ordinary a match that I felt that staying up till midnight was not really worth it. If one has to achieve a certain quality for a the match Not even close to a WC Finals clash. It was more like a I-pass-the-ball-to-the-opposition-player game. There were a lot of fake falls trying to get fouls on both sides. There was a lot of rough-play and indecent behavior on field from both teams. I know that football is not essentially the gentleman's game and the passion should override everything else. But when passion comes across without flair, it looks grotesque. In other words, passion without flair is not passion at all. Their "aggression" was not backed up by a good game but poor shot-making. Both teams were immature and lacking in respect for both their opponents and the game itself. The longest period that the ball was in play continuously would not have been more than a couple of minutes at best. The Oranje did not look like Total Football; but more like Total Goofball. Every team has their best playmaker in #7. There was Raul Gonzalez, David Beckham, Louis Figo and recently, Bastian Schweinsteiger. However the Dutch #7, Kuyt is nothing but a rough-shodding, brawler who has little play-making ability and a major problem of being a jackass. Arjen Robben was the only one who shone in his good play; but even his sparks came in streaks. The best football in the match was played in the first goal of each team. Both were executed by the captains. Both from a prodigous distance. And both showing excellent control of the so-called disaster ball, Jabulani. However, the magic stopped there. After a racing start, the match was a damp affair. Though the team that I wanted to win succeeded, they were nowhere in the zone. No team deserved to win; but Uruguay blinked first.
Match 2: Spain vs Germany; The Red Devils won 1-0
Another match with lacklustre performances. Seriously, what is the jinx on the semis?? Interestingly, the quarters were a lot more thrilling, whether it was Argentina getting mauled or witnessing Oranje making us go More Oranjy or even Uruguay cheating their way up. This match was boring; not because the team I backed lost - but because they were on the field without a single idea of what was going on. At least half a dozen times, Spain could bring the ball into the Germans' goal-zone using the SAME FRIGGING PLAY!!! How hard is it to mark Villa or better, wise up and change the stupid/repetitive right wing cross to the center. Almost every German pass that looked good was followed up with a German pass that made one cringe. It was a bad day to be a German football fan; not because they lost poorly (which they actually did not - for there were a couple of decisions that went against them); but because they did not play to their potential. The speeed and precision that amazed everyone in the quarters against Argentina, was not there. They were happily losing their plot. Off color is a word that I am forced to use again; but ironically, the Germans were in Black and White. The Spaniards, to give where it is due, were good in parts. The sheer dominance in the ball-possession put a noose around the German team's neck which they themselves tightened by their poor playing. However, the Red Devils were not well-behaved at all. The Podolski-Aamos situation was a classic example for their foul-play. Deliberately stepping on another player's toes is bad enough; but trying to make an appeal for a foul of the other team; how low can you go? But nothing could make a fair excuse for the poor display by the entire German unit.
So overall, which was the better of the two matches for me? Though the pickings are slim; I go with the Spain-Germany match giving it a 2.75 stars out of five for a controlled and even gameplan by the Spaniards. The first Semi gets a barely passing 2.25 stars thanks to the two amazing goals in the first half of the match. Hopefully both the teams that made it to the finals will step up their games. Praying for an explosive final where Oranje and Red cut loose; I sign off!
06 July 2010
The Thomas Crown Affair
I have always liked heist movies. Or chase movies (when the term is not merely confined to fast automobiles). For some strange reason, like Woody Allen's movies, I think that there are not enough movies in this genre. Sometimes you wonder; if they make a movie with a strong plot and a semi-decent cast in this specific genre (like puzzle movies, adventure, epic movies), they would make great hits. But why do the producers in the Holly town think otherwise? I had to grow up a few years to figure out that these are not only risky ventures that a producer would rather not touch with a ten foot pole, but also that the quality in writing itself is so poor when it comes to big studios and such genres. The really good movies remain hidden in Independent film circuits. But once in a long time, the biggies come out with a real good number. Usually they are of the blockbuster variety with two bankable stars and a few breathtaking visuals. Rarely, do we find treats where the actors are trusted enough to be allowed to carry the film entirely on their shoulders - with just their sizzling chemistry and acting skills. One can count the movies which do that by hand, like The Sleuth starring Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine and The Man from Earth. One does not expect a movie of that nature out of a Bond actor, albeit Entrapment with Sean Connery and Catherina Zeta Jones gave the feel (with some techno effects). The Thomas Crown Affair, though a remake from a 60s movie of the same name, does just that.
This is a cat and mouse tale with a little differnce. The hunter knows who her prey is. The prey likes living on the edge. Both of them can end the game whenever they want to but find a compulsion to play it, just because it is more challenging, more intense and most of all, more fun that way. The storyline is simple but solid; that of a criminal who is off-limits and a ruthless investigator who knows no limits face off against a stolen painting. The twists and the turns of the plot do not feel forced and even the most predictable moments in the movie are elevated to a sparkling moment thanks to excellent acting and packaging of the script. At the very end of the film, a lot of questions remain unanswered and still manage to keep the audience impressed; because the story has long passed the mere framework of a puzzle movie as it has generated human interest. There are also poignant moments in the film when the director underlines the nature of what crime is and what is not crime; for some people, it is merely a way of expressing their non-conformity to a mundane society. While there are other people, who beat their ten year olds in their drunken stupor and kill their wives. Everyone has an urge to be a delinquent. Thomas Crown merely has the means to live his desire.
Pierce Brosnan is near-perfect in his portrayal of Thomas Crown. One feels like that he is being more of a Bond here than in any of his Bond films. Perhaps the Bond movies shaped him to be better suited for such roles or maybe it is just the fact that the suave, stylized man of taste image was not rushed and forced in this movie; it comes naturally to Brosnan. This is his best yet. In his Bond movies, he was like a boy trying to look like a man. But here, he holds his own against someone who threatens to replace the authority of his titular role with her powerful screen presence. Rene Russo is a treat to watch and no, my dear perverts, I am not saying this because she bares it all for a scene. Though it must be mentioned that the detailing and perfection in acting and aesthetic packaging is complete even in that short, impressive scene of lovemaking. A lot of people rubbish this scene when compared with the McQueen-Dunaway scene in the original. I would say that they are two different kinds of scenes, creating two different kinds of tension. Both work in their own way. The chemistry between Rene Russo and Brosnan is sizzling and makes us feel for them. The other actors are not so shabby themselves.
This movie uses technology to further the plot, a role for which technology should be used in movies at all. Crisp editing can make a good scene gorgeous. The climax of the movie where the second painting is stolen is just a gem in this consideration. The camera work was even all through the movie. The pictures themselves were chosen not to complicate things. However it was a little fun to identify the Monet which I had once studied for a class. The theme of Monet as the man who could see the same things differently each time, gives an added angle to the film and its primary players.
All this said and done, the thing I love most about the movie is its music. Both the original scores and the soundtracks were excellently chosen and placed; barring the Sting version of The Windmills of Your Mind. Please Sting, we love you; but that was just about the most ridiculous cover of a great song. The only flipside seems to be the over-emphasized dramatizations that tend to get a little too predictable at times; but again, we are watching a major Hollywood motion picture. So I give this movie a regular rating of 7.5, heist rating 8 and the verdict is; this is one of the movies that you want to catch as many repeats on TV as possible/buying a personal DVD copy is not a bad move.
This is a cat and mouse tale with a little differnce. The hunter knows who her prey is. The prey likes living on the edge. Both of them can end the game whenever they want to but find a compulsion to play it, just because it is more challenging, more intense and most of all, more fun that way. The storyline is simple but solid; that of a criminal who is off-limits and a ruthless investigator who knows no limits face off against a stolen painting. The twists and the turns of the plot do not feel forced and even the most predictable moments in the movie are elevated to a sparkling moment thanks to excellent acting and packaging of the script. At the very end of the film, a lot of questions remain unanswered and still manage to keep the audience impressed; because the story has long passed the mere framework of a puzzle movie as it has generated human interest. There are also poignant moments in the film when the director underlines the nature of what crime is and what is not crime; for some people, it is merely a way of expressing their non-conformity to a mundane society. While there are other people, who beat their ten year olds in their drunken stupor and kill their wives. Everyone has an urge to be a delinquent. Thomas Crown merely has the means to live his desire.
Pierce Brosnan is near-perfect in his portrayal of Thomas Crown. One feels like that he is being more of a Bond here than in any of his Bond films. Perhaps the Bond movies shaped him to be better suited for such roles or maybe it is just the fact that the suave, stylized man of taste image was not rushed and forced in this movie; it comes naturally to Brosnan. This is his best yet. In his Bond movies, he was like a boy trying to look like a man. But here, he holds his own against someone who threatens to replace the authority of his titular role with her powerful screen presence. Rene Russo is a treat to watch and no, my dear perverts, I am not saying this because she bares it all for a scene. Though it must be mentioned that the detailing and perfection in acting and aesthetic packaging is complete even in that short, impressive scene of lovemaking. A lot of people rubbish this scene when compared with the McQueen-Dunaway scene in the original. I would say that they are two different kinds of scenes, creating two different kinds of tension. Both work in their own way. The chemistry between Rene Russo and Brosnan is sizzling and makes us feel for them. The other actors are not so shabby themselves.
This movie uses technology to further the plot, a role for which technology should be used in movies at all. Crisp editing can make a good scene gorgeous. The climax of the movie where the second painting is stolen is just a gem in this consideration. The camera work was even all through the movie. The pictures themselves were chosen not to complicate things. However it was a little fun to identify the Monet which I had once studied for a class. The theme of Monet as the man who could see the same things differently each time, gives an added angle to the film and its primary players.
All this said and done, the thing I love most about the movie is its music. Both the original scores and the soundtracks were excellently chosen and placed; barring the Sting version of The Windmills of Your Mind. Please Sting, we love you; but that was just about the most ridiculous cover of a great song. The only flipside seems to be the over-emphasized dramatizations that tend to get a little too predictable at times; but again, we are watching a major Hollywood motion picture. So I give this movie a regular rating of 7.5, heist rating 8 and the verdict is; this is one of the movies that you want to catch as many repeats on TV as possible/buying a personal DVD copy is not a bad move.
Tudors season01
In a day where we are worried about the mythologies of Lost or Supernatural; here is a brave venture where we all know the story and the its implications. If history tells what happened, only the artist can capture how it happened. This story does that quite efficiently. Michael Hirst wrote this for Showtime about five years ago and after four seasons, the story came to a close. One decision by the creative makes this so much different from other films/TV programs of this genre; it is the focus on drama even at the cost of history. This is a genius move, I would say, for it grasps the fundamental purpose of history. History has no obligations except for being there. It is recorded from manuscripts, dates and names of people. However, the motivation behind history is beyond human understanding. Even documents where people are seen exposing their motives behind their actions have to be treated with caution; for every action is a performance. What gives that just because a person is dead, (s)he is speaking the truth?
The first thing that captivates the audience while watching this program is the music. The haunting quality of music chosen from contemporary styles lingers on as a character of its own. The importance of the performative in the court of Henry VIII is brought to attention with many of the significant actions developing over ballroom sequences. Perhaps the most poignant use of this feature is felt in the season finale, drawing a parallel between the fallen Wolsey and a farce at the court. The drama at "play" builds itself to moments, rather than forcing moments to appear because it is said so in history. The historical awareness balanced by her love for her husband, in Queen Catherine makes for an image that will not fade quickly.
Some criticize this of reducing historical moments to personal and petty decisions; but that is where this series is so overwhelmingly real. As someone who cannot tolerate the obnoxious views of those who claim to know the "authentic" history, I welcome this method of story-telling. Let us face it, NOBODY from this generation can get even close to understanding what happened or how it happened in a different generation. The passages of time is so completely self-sustained that contemplating history with however much or little "facts" is equally speculative. Therefore, it comes as a breath of fresh air that instead of wooden characters who speak on behalf of history, these are living, breathing personalities that deal with their personal problems; for whom their actions becoming history is merely an afterthought. Not all are aware of their historical image (a point raised in the show more than just once) and those who are aware, are not always able to use their awareness to step outside their problems of reality. Many characters like the Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas Moore and the King Henry VIII himself, are willing to go to any extreme to create a specific image for history (in the story) which could be as equally real as any other "authentic" version; and it should be appreciated that the writer tries to hold a prism to the everyday reality behind historical tapestries. The inaccuracies have been criticized as well; but the writer has been given a job of entertaining people with a story, not a lesson in history and therefore that can be excused. What I do hold against their method of programming is their insistence of showing two pairs of breasts every week, almost simply to adhere to the "edgy" tag they have gained. I find it silly and forced; for it was edgier to see a moment where Wolsey prays to God without remorse in his voice and goes on to kill himself rather than to see a woman who is simultaneously flat-chested and with sagging boobs giving a fake orgasm.
The casting, it must be noted, is excellent. The pick of the actors is definitely Jonathan Rhys Myers as King Henry VIII. At times childish, at times cruel; Myers' portrayal is that of a tough lord who will go to any length to hold on to his powers. One feels at times that Anne Boleyn was just an excuse for the historical inevitable. One gets the feelingt that even without her, someone like Henry VIII would not have been content to having a cap on his powers. I have seen Myers in Matchpoint as a lucky fool and in August Rush as an impulsive Irishman. But here, as Henry VIII, he opens up so many avenues for himself as an excellent actor. Sam Neil as the Cardinal Wolsey is the other "big name" actor who lends dignity and intrigue to this power-hungry, machiavellian, but at times practically "right" elderly gentleman. The actor playing Anne Boleyn does it well enough to make us hate her. While the actor playing the Queen Catherine is grace personified. All the bits and peices actors do an adequate job; particularly the cowardly fierce trinity of Suffolk, Norfolk and Boleyn. The costumes and the lighting have always shown the actors in good light while the top-notch camera work and seamless editing gives the narrative a racing beat. Since a majority of the action happens in court, there is not much scope for the historical details but they serve an adequate backdrop. The computer-graphics generated castles look very poor though.
Overall, this is a must-watch for anyone who likes a serious political drama; even if one is not particularly historically inclined. On a scale of ten, I would give the writing 8 points; the production itself gets a healthy 7 points.
The first thing that captivates the audience while watching this program is the music. The haunting quality of music chosen from contemporary styles lingers on as a character of its own. The importance of the performative in the court of Henry VIII is brought to attention with many of the significant actions developing over ballroom sequences. Perhaps the most poignant use of this feature is felt in the season finale, drawing a parallel between the fallen Wolsey and a farce at the court. The drama at "play" builds itself to moments, rather than forcing moments to appear because it is said so in history. The historical awareness balanced by her love for her husband, in Queen Catherine makes for an image that will not fade quickly.
Some criticize this of reducing historical moments to personal and petty decisions; but that is where this series is so overwhelmingly real. As someone who cannot tolerate the obnoxious views of those who claim to know the "authentic" history, I welcome this method of story-telling. Let us face it, NOBODY from this generation can get even close to understanding what happened or how it happened in a different generation. The passages of time is so completely self-sustained that contemplating history with however much or little "facts" is equally speculative. Therefore, it comes as a breath of fresh air that instead of wooden characters who speak on behalf of history, these are living, breathing personalities that deal with their personal problems; for whom their actions becoming history is merely an afterthought. Not all are aware of their historical image (a point raised in the show more than just once) and those who are aware, are not always able to use their awareness to step outside their problems of reality. Many characters like the Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas Moore and the King Henry VIII himself, are willing to go to any extreme to create a specific image for history (in the story) which could be as equally real as any other "authentic" version; and it should be appreciated that the writer tries to hold a prism to the everyday reality behind historical tapestries. The inaccuracies have been criticized as well; but the writer has been given a job of entertaining people with a story, not a lesson in history and therefore that can be excused. What I do hold against their method of programming is their insistence of showing two pairs of breasts every week, almost simply to adhere to the "edgy" tag they have gained. I find it silly and forced; for it was edgier to see a moment where Wolsey prays to God without remorse in his voice and goes on to kill himself rather than to see a woman who is simultaneously flat-chested and with sagging boobs giving a fake orgasm.
The casting, it must be noted, is excellent. The pick of the actors is definitely Jonathan Rhys Myers as King Henry VIII. At times childish, at times cruel; Myers' portrayal is that of a tough lord who will go to any length to hold on to his powers. One feels at times that Anne Boleyn was just an excuse for the historical inevitable. One gets the feelingt that even without her, someone like Henry VIII would not have been content to having a cap on his powers. I have seen Myers in Matchpoint as a lucky fool and in August Rush as an impulsive Irishman. But here, as Henry VIII, he opens up so many avenues for himself as an excellent actor. Sam Neil as the Cardinal Wolsey is the other "big name" actor who lends dignity and intrigue to this power-hungry, machiavellian, but at times practically "right" elderly gentleman. The actor playing Anne Boleyn does it well enough to make us hate her. While the actor playing the Queen Catherine is grace personified. All the bits and peices actors do an adequate job; particularly the cowardly fierce trinity of Suffolk, Norfolk and Boleyn. The costumes and the lighting have always shown the actors in good light while the top-notch camera work and seamless editing gives the narrative a racing beat. Since a majority of the action happens in court, there is not much scope for the historical details but they serve an adequate backdrop. The computer-graphics generated castles look very poor though.
Overall, this is a must-watch for anyone who likes a serious political drama; even if one is not particularly historically inclined. On a scale of ten, I would give the writing 8 points; the production itself gets a healthy 7 points.
Dr Strangelove; or How I stopped worrying and started loving the bomb
When I heard a lot of people rating this as one of the, if not the best movie ever seen; I was wondering what was so special about it. But watching this movie was the most-shockingly real film experience I have had this year; and maybe all-time. More on that later. First off, I have always been a fan of Stanley Kubrik's craft. But I have always had a feeling that his movies had an unwatchable quality about them. Of course, it was intense viewing. But the best movies in the world are those which pass quickly like a bullet while subtly pervading your thought process for a long time. The Matrix movies did that (the first more than any other). Jurassic Park, for all its simple-minded conception, did that. Jaws did that. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind did that. Most of Woody Allen's film, do that. However, Kubrik's films are not known for this quality. Clockwork Orange was twisted as twisted can be. 2001: A Space Odessey is almost a prophetic film. Eyes Wide Shut is a meditation in perversion. However, all these movies take themselves too seriously for the viewer to have an unobstrusive sight of what is going on in the story. I like the fact that Kubrik can work on such a vast canvas while other "big name" directors are stuck with the same frigging theme for decades (*cough* James Cameroon *cough*). However, none of his movies made an effort to "connect" with the audience; except perhaps The Shining.
This was my opinion, until I saw Dr Strangelove. Please do not get put off by the most boring five minutes in all film history (exaggerating) just after an impressive start. The movie takes a little time to heat up. What follows is perhaps the darkest of black comedies as well as a realistic and possible tragedy of the infinite human capacity to screw things up. The disclaimer on the top of the film is from the US Air Force assuring that the events depicted in the movie cannot happen in real life (due to the precautions they have taken). If you can feel a nervous undertone to that voice, don't be surprised. For this is definitely the most dangerously "real" film not for no reason. Many things depicted here are, and I quote from another excellent Anti-War film, The Men Who Stare at Goats, More of this is true than what you might imagine. The polemic that the movie tries to set up is simple; there is, on the one hand, enough fire power to destory completely the entire planet and on the other hand, the access to this power in the hands of few men, who could be just as fragile or unstable as every other human being in the world. The threat of Purity of Essence has played itself over and over, so many times, that it is uncomfortable to think that nobody has ever done to change the equation of power balance.
The plot is way too simple. At the height of Cold War, an American general whose mental stability is questionable has launched unilaterally an attack on 34 strategic points of Russia. What follows is chaos as the President and other people in the war room literally bite their nails trying to crack the foolproof plan in activation. The idea of power and the corrupting influence of power is foregrounded in this movie; however the darker/deeper fact that even without this corruption, there EXISTS an infrastructure which is ready to attack and destroy completely another nation of the world. This brings us to the next big concept of the movie.
The Doomsday Device
The idea of the Doomsday Device is that it is a failsafe that would automatically kick in when a certain number of parameters are just right. Nobody can deactivate it. Nobody can control it. It's very existence is supposed to deter everyone from even thinking about war. This is the most ironic thing about the movie; that the best peace-keeping force in existence in the world, is a force that can destroy the world. Would it not be simpler to negotiate peace as an everyday process? As a mode of life? No. It would not work because it is too unrealistic to expect people to just mind their own business. And therein lies the most likeable experience of being told, how the human species is simply incapable of just letting things be.
The last thing I would like to bring to your attention is the name of the film. It is titled Dr Strangelove, after a German scientist who has changed his name after moving to America post WWII. Not the obvious choice, one would say. The scientist is unsuccessful in his attempts to repress his natural sense of loyalty towards his Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler. One can only wonder why that is... For the name of his lord has changed but the roles they play and the needs of their position have not changed. Beware, Kubrik seems to warn us, that you may be turned into this unfortunate creature called Strangelove...
This was my opinion, until I saw Dr Strangelove. Please do not get put off by the most boring five minutes in all film history (exaggerating) just after an impressive start. The movie takes a little time to heat up. What follows is perhaps the darkest of black comedies as well as a realistic and possible tragedy of the infinite human capacity to screw things up. The disclaimer on the top of the film is from the US Air Force assuring that the events depicted in the movie cannot happen in real life (due to the precautions they have taken). If you can feel a nervous undertone to that voice, don't be surprised. For this is definitely the most dangerously "real" film not for no reason. Many things depicted here are, and I quote from another excellent Anti-War film, The Men Who Stare at Goats, More of this is true than what you might imagine. The polemic that the movie tries to set up is simple; there is, on the one hand, enough fire power to destory completely the entire planet and on the other hand, the access to this power in the hands of few men, who could be just as fragile or unstable as every other human being in the world. The threat of Purity of Essence has played itself over and over, so many times, that it is uncomfortable to think that nobody has ever done to change the equation of power balance.
The plot is way too simple. At the height of Cold War, an American general whose mental stability is questionable has launched unilaterally an attack on 34 strategic points of Russia. What follows is chaos as the President and other people in the war room literally bite their nails trying to crack the foolproof plan in activation. The idea of power and the corrupting influence of power is foregrounded in this movie; however the darker/deeper fact that even without this corruption, there EXISTS an infrastructure which is ready to attack and destroy completely another nation of the world. This brings us to the next big concept of the movie.
The Doomsday Device
The idea of the Doomsday Device is that it is a failsafe that would automatically kick in when a certain number of parameters are just right. Nobody can deactivate it. Nobody can control it. It's very existence is supposed to deter everyone from even thinking about war. This is the most ironic thing about the movie; that the best peace-keeping force in existence in the world, is a force that can destroy the world. Would it not be simpler to negotiate peace as an everyday process? As a mode of life? No. It would not work because it is too unrealistic to expect people to just mind their own business. And therein lies the most likeable experience of being told, how the human species is simply incapable of just letting things be.
The last thing I would like to bring to your attention is the name of the film. It is titled Dr Strangelove, after a German scientist who has changed his name after moving to America post WWII. Not the obvious choice, one would say. The scientist is unsuccessful in his attempts to repress his natural sense of loyalty towards his Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler. One can only wonder why that is... For the name of his lord has changed but the roles they play and the needs of their position have not changed. Beware, Kubrik seems to warn us, that you may be turned into this unfortunate creature called Strangelove...
The Woody Review
Woody Allen, perhaps the greatest director to ever grace a hollywood project. There is little doubt that he is by far the best in terms of not just the quality of his movies but also in the consistency in which he gives those good movies. But the most overwhelming fact about him is the clip at which he generates his movies. Some say that Woody does not have much of variety and his films follow a predictable formula. Others accuse him of always playing "Woody" in all his movies. I do not so much disagree with these critics, but raise another question - if a predictable formula does not stop entertaining us over five decades, is it still alright to call it a "stale" type? A lot of people do not get Woody. They are like, Oh? Woody Allen? I have heard he is a great director. He directed Manhattan right? But fact remains that it takes little effort to become addicted to his movies. Even attempting to talk about his movies would be a disaster for me, as my column would run into volumes for each one that I enjoyed. But today, I am taking up the task of writing about not one, but TWENTY of Woody Allen movies for the 0nly reason that I have reached the mark of watching Twenty Woody movies. My best friend tells me that if I was a little funny, my writings would be dangerously close to Woody. Thank god I am boring. So without much further ado, here is the list of Woody Allen movies arranged from the poorest to the best (in his standards). It must be understood that not a single movie in this list was boring or dull for me. I did not even have to brush up my memory with a plot summary (except for one). But when I say a movie is on the poorer half of the list, it is purely based on how good the other movies were.
The list as follows; starting from the movie lowest on my list (and by no way should be considered to be my "least favorite" Woody film)...
20, Celebrity 1998; This is the only movie for which I had to go back to imdb to get the plot summary. It has its moments (for the brief portions where DiCaprio comes on making us wonder if it is still on storyline mode or real), but it is a major buzz kill for the amount of expectations it generates. The lead actor of the movie is poorly cast (a rare occurrence in a Woody movie), for he goes through the motions of being a Woody Allen look-alike. Though showing the trappings of celebrity-hood in a movie with celebrities in it is a tough ask, one expects Woody to have done a finer production with a more ironic take on things. This movie would have scored a 6.5 on a regular scale but on the Woody scale it comes in at a passing minimum of 4.5. It may also be considered as a Woody-wannabe-movie ironically made by Woody himself.
19, Vicky Christina Barcelona 2008 scores low on my scale because it comes across as didactic sermon against greed and lust when it could have been a dark portrait of ambition and talent. Even an attempt at capturing the "artist's" life would have been more interesting than having characters that are either too mundane to be of any interest or too over-the-top to be believed. The saving grace of the movie is Javier Bardem in his mysterious, yet grounded portrayal of the artist. Though some critics' minds may give in to temptation of giving a half-point extra for having seen half of Scarlett Johannson's booby; I unwaveringly give this movie a 6.7 (R) and 4.6(W). Except for the opening song, there is little that comes across as Woody-fresh.
18, A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy 1982 is exactly what it promises to be; a midsummer night's sex comedy that nobody should take seriously. What works for this movie is the magical/romantic element that one feels pervading right from the title itself; but the strange and complex romantic feelings towards different characters in the movie seems almost forced and at times boring. The Shakespearean counterpart with a similar title also has elements similar to this; but the play works in the fact that whatever "magic" is supposed to happen is left to the imagination of the Elizabethan audience, while the movie cuts a sorry figure on that front as well. When I say that this movie was the only Woody movie ever nominated for a Razzie, you get the picture. It gets a humble 6 on the regular list but thanks to its innovative style promising more developed content soon in this genre from Woody, it nudge it across the passing grade to 4.5; the only Woody that works is the establishment and then the taking-apart of stereotypes; something that Shakespeare enjoyed doing himself.
17, Manhattan Murder Mystery 1993 is another movie in the crime genre that I really enjoyed watching, but could not place amongst the best of Woody's films. As a tribute to a genre of 50s & 60s crime movie, this movie works, however, to consider it as a film that could come exclusively from Woody's table, it does not work so much. There is simply no question that Diane Keaton and Woody share their sizzling chemistry from an earlier age; but this movie falls short as a nostalgic trip where everything is supposed to remind us of something else. The Woody quality of treating something ordinary in an extraordinary way, is absent. For this reason, though scoring highly on the regular scale, with 6.8 points, the movie barely makes it to a 4.7 on the Woody scale. The Woody element in this movie is Woody himself. That hurts the expectations a little.
16, The Curse of the Jade Scorpion 2001, with the gorgeous Helen Hunt and a hilariously cast Woody Allen (as a private investigator for an insurance firm), one expects so much out of this movie. It has a good cast and situations that are over the top, hilarious. The underlying sexual/romantic tension between the lead couple overflowing in a competitive childish manner in the beginning is just cute. Unfortunately, it ends up working only as a typical romantic comedy. That is bad, because other "crime" genre movies are so well made by Woody, that just a hypnotist-villain feels too uninspired. This movie gets a higher grade on the regular scale with 7.2 but suffers on the Woody scale just reaching 4.6: Dan Aykroyd as the two-timing boss with the cliché of "I'm getting divorced next month" is brilliant in this film.
15, Cassandra's Dream 2007 is definitely the most intense viewing of all the movies in this list with performances that overwhelmingly real and riveting and a screenplay that does not allow for an inch's error. With almost perfect characterizations for both Farrell and McGreggor and a brilliant cameo from Tom Wilkinson (almost as good as the one from Michael Clayton), and the haunting title from the name of the boat, which serves as both the grounding and escaping element, this movie is near perfection in craft. However, it could have been Darren Aronofsky who was making this movie. One feels that Woody went too bleak and too personal for us to actually enjoy the movie. What remains one of the best films I have seen this year is also at the same time, one of the most tiresome watches ever. It was a bit of a drag just after the half-way point. So despite a credible 5.0 on the Woody scale, the movie slumps to this position because of a tame 6.4 on the regular scale. The two sequences where the brothers plot the murder remains one of the best bits of acting in Farrell's career (and though I hate to admit it, he has done enough good movies for that to be a remarkable feat).
14, Scoop 2006 is actually a heart-break for me. Scarlett Johansson AND Hugh Jackman in this entertaining thriller is a great watch. Woody has never played a part which fits him more than this - of course, he always plays himself, but this is the most ironic situation that a person like him can ACTUALLY be in and still make it all about the story and not about him. So much is working FOR Scoop, but why is it so low down the ladder? It is because, let us be honest, the central plot itself lacked conviction. It was predictable and ordinary. The resolution was tame and it did nothing to make either Jackman or Johansson better than what they were - which usually is the high-selling point for the actors to fiercely compete wanting to be in a Woody film. I give this movie a stunning 8 on the watchability front while I give it a decent 4.8 for a movie on the lower half of the table. I wish I can rate this movie any better than it is, but I will be fooling myself.
13, Everything you have always wanted to know about sex, (but were afraid to ask) 1972 is an interesting pick for me; as it was one of the earliest Woody movies I have seen and I remember it fondly. It is not exactly a bad watch and will capture your attention for its creative conception and execution. What does not work in this movie for me is its episodic nature where the segments are often absurd for the point of being absurd. While the story of the sperm is an excellent telling of an ordinary story by a vivid imagination; something like a giant boob chasing people across a field simply does not appeal to me. The movie presents a lot of moments but all make you feel that they would have been better if they had had back stories that would have fed into and built on the existing moments. This movie gets a strong 7.7 in regular but just 4.7 on the Woody scale. We feel that the Woody streak of genius has almost set in; and it is just a matter of time before he embarks on his great phases.
12, Bananas 1971 features here quite unfortunately, because it is an excellent satire and one of the best political satires in the English movie universe. However, it features low on the list particularly because the craft of Woody's cinema has not been perfected at the time of this movie's making. However, one feels that without making a movie like this, at this stage, he would not have been able to mature into a more complete film (interestingly on a similar theme); Sleeper (1973). Bananas works at many levels but one feels that it would have been a more effective play rather than a movie for its highly symbolic nature. I give it a decent 6.6 (R) and a 5.1 (W).
11, Casino Royale 1966 being on the lower half of the scale is no big surprise, given that Woody was not even credited for this one (being low on the hollywood totem pole back then). Some people do not even consider this as a Woody film for it was written probably under terrible pressure from both the studios and the man who cannot keep his talented nose out of others' business, Peter Sellers. But I still add this to the list for I feel that there are so many unmistakably Woody elements in this Bond film. I place this film on the wall between the bottom and the top half, for though it is one of the weakest Woody films, it is also pretty imaginative. One can only speculate and sigh at the direction in which the Bond franchise would have traveled in, if only a more Woody was allowed to write building on this movie. With an ordinary 6.3 (R) and a respectable 5 (W), this movie is a reminder that genius can find a way to shine no matter how dire the circumstances are.
10, Zelig 1983 features on the second half of the list for the innovative style and content of the movie. The theme of identity runs strongly through all Woody movies. Finding one's self, either at the psychiatrist's couch or from the four walls of the house or everyday objects that take up a symbolic value, Woody always shows how important it is for a person to know their place in the equation of the world. No other film of Woody explores this idea more than this, where a mockumentary tracks the events surrounding an amazing character, Zelig who BECOMES the people he is with. The movie goes beyond just narrating a tale of love, lost and found for it finds a Universal element gently suggesting that we are all Zeligs who are more than happy to simply adjust to the scenario when it is tough to hold on to our own identities. I watched this movie with my best bud so early in the morning, that I could not remember much of it; so I watched it again. And boy, am I glad that I watched it a second time and I must admit, I was impressed. It is this compelling quality that makes me rate this movie high, despite its limited entertainment per se. This is simultaneously a well-made film as well as an total Woody show. This movie scores a solid 5.5 on the Woody scale and a humble 6.4 on the regular. With that, we enter the top half of the list.
9, Small Time Crooks 2000 is an excellent example of how a crime/heist genre of movie can be narrated in such a wholesome Woody style. As opposed to some of its lower ranked counterparts (Scoop, Manhattan Murder Mystery and The curse of the Jade Scorpion), this movie focuses more on the characters than the heist plot itself. Woody seems to get a grasp over the idea that crime has been done to death; so the only way he can make a meaningful addition to the genre is to show the anti-crime; where his characters are fools who try the old idea of digging from a different joint to do the "bank-job" but ending up hitting on a different kind of a jackpot. Tracy Ullman in her quest for class is a, excuse the bad pun, class act. The age-old prejudice/conflict between new money and old money is beautifully portrayed without pissing off the members of the audience who really don't have ANY money. Hugh Grant as David is not the obvious choice but this movie (unlike Scoop) helps the actor to reach a different level. This is why people want to work with Woody. Jon Lovitz could have been used better, but he does shine in his Benny. The precarious nature of their company and the sweet-sincere nature of everyone who's a part of that organization is well written. But it is Carolyn Saxon as Mae who kills us with her dead-pan humor and deeply empathetic performance. The circle of life completes itself almost too well; but I am fine with balance when it is aware of its own impossibility. The movie gets a good 7.1 (R) added to a 5.2 (W). It still cracks me up whenever I think of Woody threatening Tracy that he might hit her.
8, Mighty Aphrodite 1995 stars the ever so lovable Mira Sorvino in another stereotype as the whore with a golden heart. This movie has Woody taking heads-on academics by writing a modern masterpiece in the Greek Tragedy style and still maintaining the movie as a Comedy. The chorus, the development of the plot, the climax and even the deus ex machina at the end of the movie are so well-positioned and refreshingly used, that one does not for a moment stop to think of them as elements that are out of place. There have been many who have successfully adapted Greek Tragedies to the Modern stage but this is the closest that one can re-create the Greek Tragedy. The reversal happens furthering the plot. However, one important element of Greek Tragedy called anagnorisis (critical discovery) is deliberately by-passed to give a sense of irony - which is Woody's strongest point. With really good actors and an entertaining, everyday plot, this movie gets a good 7.2 (R) and a 5.8 (W), particularly because I cannot help but be impressed repeatedly by the treatment of the tale.
7, Radio Days 1987 is a nostalgic trip to a world which I have had little direct encounter with. However, when I saw the movie, I was transported to my own early childhood where, despite radios being out of fashion, my parents made a habit of waking us up to the news, the odd song, the social feature and the message for the day. I would go through my routine in the morning listening half-asleep to those features and would hasten or slow-down depending on which part of the morning program I was at. Though this movie is extremely topical, pertaining to a single culture and a specific time, it still appealed to me for it triggered off elements from my own life. For that reason, I give this movie an ordinary 6.1 (R) but also a commendable 5.9 (W). Nobody can help but to burst out laughing when they see who the voice of Superman is, in the movie. That is the magic of the radio - it shows you nothing; but it takes you there.
6, Interiors 1979 is a gripping drama which is never dealt with directly. The idea of taste as a feature of high-life and the cultured life is explored brilliantly. When people dismiss Woody as a comedic director, this movie keeps coming back to me. Not only is the taste expressed by the art department so overpoweringly symbolic, but also the tone of the different characters and their distance from the core narrative is explained without ever looking at the problem. This movie also has a delusional character in all its major parts that makes it very life-like. I like this movie for being distinctly Woody Allen in a very different manner; for it retains much of his grasp of human emotions while doing away with the ironic self-awareness inside his characters. This actually heightens the tension in the movie, making it a direct and at times, a forceful venture to tackle. This movie gets a jump to a 6.5 (W) while retaining a lower general rating at 6.5 due to its overly subtle dramatic context.
5, Annie Hall 1977 is often mentioned as the most favorite Woody film by many. The reasons are fairly straight-forward. It is highly entertaining with a plot that almost everyone can relate to. The highlight of this movie, however, is the sheer volume of direct address. The movie takes meta-theatricality as a window through which characters can speak their minds out without compromising on the overall impact or appearing didactic. There are so many elements that this movie offers for directors across the globe to copy from (or to use their term, be "inspired" by) and many have done a decent job of copying. What makes this movie only so-so for me is that, as Woody admits, it does have a neatly-wrapped nature to it. It takes the easy way out more often than is interesting in the story; particularly, when moments like the psychiatrists' couches are highly amusing and engaging. Diane Keaton and Woody Allen do well together in the movie but Keaton gives an impression that she is too forcefully unrealistic compared to other movies (like the one mentioned later). Something just does not click in this movie for her; as she jumps from one stereotype to another. La dee daa. This movie gets a watchable 7.1 (R) and a good 6.7 (W). The finest moments in the film for me are when Alvie Singer goes out in the road talking to random strangers who give their advice on how to live his life.
4, The Purple Rose of Cairo 1985 is perhaps the most poignantly told love story in the Woody canon, as far as I have seen. Mia Farrow is ever so believable but it is Jeff Daniels that steals the screen with his performance. He shows how good an actor he is (and not just a chubby/funny uncle to the Bob Saget's strict father) so many years before the Squid and the Whale. What really makes me value this movie so much above the others is that despite portraying bleakly the sanction of the victim in Mia's character, who repeatedly allows herself to be sacrificed by people who are worse than her; a sense of magic is always kept ticking in the movie. The unrealistic, the imaginative and the improbable serves as a perfect foil to the dark, mundane yet troubling flippancy of human nature. The meta-theatricality of the film as well as its attention to the ritual repetition of an action is also mind-boggling. That every action changes into something else over a period of repetition, is demonstrated by the archeologist who is tired of playing his character and steps out of the silver screen. The "real" actor, however is so real that he cannot split the line between acting and reality even at the most important moments of his life; showing the indecision of human nature which cares little for others, when personal interests take over. Mia's choice is another indicator towards her self-willed sacrifice. Totally, this movie works because of so many layers of codification presented in such a smooth and enjoyable tale. I give this movie a solid 7.8 (R) and 7 (W). What a lovely treat this movie is! It often makes me to think of the movie within the movie, hoping that it gets made some day.
1, Sleeper 1973, is the only movie starring Woody in the top3. Surprising, I must say. Just as surprising as it would be for a LOT of people that I even added this film in the top3 (I should stop calling it that, for it is meant to be a three-way-tie for the #1), let alone the top half of the list. I am a strange man and I like strange things; but this is no odd pick if you have followed the style of this rating. Does this movie have a simple but strong basic storyline? Check. Does it show a sense of awareness that other film-makers cannot reach? Check. Does this have wave after wave of reversals and ironic comedy? Check. Does this movie talk to global audience without trappings of topicality? Check. Then why is it surprising that it features at the top of the list? This movie is relentless in its attack towards EVERYTHING that human society does. Surprisingly, Woody takes up the mask of the pessimist who is actually an Optimist at such an early venture - a recurrent motif that finds its way into his movies as late as '09. The idea of doing what makes you happy is featured explicitly in this film where Diane Keaton does her finest work as a Woody-Muse. No one can keep a straight face while watching the sex with a sphere scene and when Woody wakes up from his "sleeping". When the storyline is to look at dystopian future from a 70s point of view, one expects this movie to be extremely dated and reductionist. However, it is surprisingly fresh AND relevant even today. I get the feeling that this is how 1984 would have been if Orwell was high while writing it. This movie gets a whooping 8.6 (R) and 8 (W). I still double up laughing just thinking of Diane Keaton doing her Marlon Brando impression (the best I have seen to date).
1, Whatever Works! 2009 is not a single movie. It is like a snowball that has been gathering momentum for over forty years finally exploding into the existence. This movie is an excellent example of what a Woody film without Woody in the lead should be like. There is not even an iota's attempt on Larry David's part to BE Woody. Instead, he shows how good an actor he is; by carrying the ball when trusted with the solo lead in a Woody film. This is such a contrast to Celebrity's Ken Branagh. The movie has been dissed by some as an ego-massage that Woody treated himself to by making a young twenty something to fall in love with a near seventy year old. However, one who watches the movie with some involvement would see that it is not an exercise in self-indulgence but a rational demonstration of what could happen when a grumpy old man is willing to give life another chance. Just because you get out after a long time on a particular bus, it does not mean that you have to ultimately choose that bus as the journey companion for the rest of your life. The idea of reformation is also reminiscent of Annie Hall, and there are umpteen references to that movie indirectly and directly; but this movie seems more complete for it is made by the same man with a more seasoned world-view. This is the movie that Woody anticipates at the end of Annie Hall, where he sheepishly admits that it was his first play anyway. This love story is bound to shock and entertain anyone who watches it but at the heart of it, the philosophy of individual happiness that can be squeezed out of a cactus in a desert shines through. The movie gets a solid 9 (R) and a monumental 8.5 (W). Interesting enough, the constant re-evaluation of David's score for the girl at his home shows how frail the human mind is as well as how we all need a little attention from the cruel, unforgiving world.
1, Match Point 2005 is for me, the best movie Woody has ever made. It is a personal favorite; for it was the FIRST ever Woody Allen movie I watched. Where do I start why this movie is good? The casting is excellent. Jonathan Rhys Myers is one of this generation's most under-appreciated stars, who is exponentially talented in comparison with what is credited to him. Scarlett Johansson in her best movie role. This is the epitome of film-making where a dark, sinister story unfolds in the most uncontrollably real fashion. If you must know, Woody tells the entire story in the first 30 seconds or so of the film. What follows hits you at a gut level for it is not beyond possibility, despite the overwhelming sense of cosmic drama at play. The movie is every-bit an instant classic. So much of the tale is pulled together at its core, that even to say anything more than this would compromise the plot. So without further ado, I give this movie an insurmountable 9 on both the regular and the Woody scale. I must say that my perception of tennis underwent considerable change after watching this epic written on the success of luck over virtue. Back when I used to get Zee Studio relay, I used to catch glimpses of this movie whenever it was played.
A lot of people say that Woody is an intellectual director who is so complex that the regular crowd would not take a liking to him, as they like someone like, say Steve Martin. Some say, oh, Woody just trivializes some of the greatest ideas of human civilization into a farce where he takes nothing seriously, making him an escapist. So, what kind of a director is Woody Allen; what does he represent to me? For me, Woody is a Non-Conformist - which is such a tough thing to be. Having been in an industry for nearly five decades, Woody still finds enough cause to stick on to his philosophy which he explains as early as '73 even in a movie made in '09. Changing one's mind is easy. It is almost inevitable over a period of time. We grow embarrassed of our decisions in the past. We are always looking for what's new and what's next. There have been cases of many priests who have had faith-crisis over a period of time; not for any other reason but just because they have been priests for so long. Does it not take the highest courage and strength and sheer will-power to doggedly hang on to the same core value while constantly upgrading and evolving the self? That stubbornness, that determination to be aware of the nature of the world around him and the relationship between him and the world around, makes Woody the most memorable personalities, not just in film, for me.
In my simple words, here is the Woody idea for life in a few lines; A lot of different people have a lot of different ways to define the world as such and such. Classifications, naming things, ideas seem to be the favorite pastime of humans. Each declares that their idea is so superior to the rest of the ideas that they stop figuring their own place in the universe. Stop worrying about all that. Do whatever works for you. If you are happy and can make a few people around you happy, you have done well in your life.
Now, that is a philosophy to live for!
The list as follows; starting from the movie lowest on my list (and by no way should be considered to be my "least favorite" Woody film)...
20, Celebrity 1998; This is the only movie for which I had to go back to imdb to get the plot summary. It has its moments (for the brief portions where DiCaprio comes on making us wonder if it is still on storyline mode or real), but it is a major buzz kill for the amount of expectations it generates. The lead actor of the movie is poorly cast (a rare occurrence in a Woody movie), for he goes through the motions of being a Woody Allen look-alike. Though showing the trappings of celebrity-hood in a movie with celebrities in it is a tough ask, one expects Woody to have done a finer production with a more ironic take on things. This movie would have scored a 6.5 on a regular scale but on the Woody scale it comes in at a passing minimum of 4.5. It may also be considered as a Woody-wannabe-movie ironically made by Woody himself.
19, Vicky Christina Barcelona 2008 scores low on my scale because it comes across as didactic sermon against greed and lust when it could have been a dark portrait of ambition and talent. Even an attempt at capturing the "artist's" life would have been more interesting than having characters that are either too mundane to be of any interest or too over-the-top to be believed. The saving grace of the movie is Javier Bardem in his mysterious, yet grounded portrayal of the artist. Though some critics' minds may give in to temptation of giving a half-point extra for having seen half of Scarlett Johannson's booby; I unwaveringly give this movie a 6.7 (R) and 4.6(W). Except for the opening song, there is little that comes across as Woody-fresh.
18, A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy 1982 is exactly what it promises to be; a midsummer night's sex comedy that nobody should take seriously. What works for this movie is the magical/romantic element that one feels pervading right from the title itself; but the strange and complex romantic feelings towards different characters in the movie seems almost forced and at times boring. The Shakespearean counterpart with a similar title also has elements similar to this; but the play works in the fact that whatever "magic" is supposed to happen is left to the imagination of the Elizabethan audience, while the movie cuts a sorry figure on that front as well. When I say that this movie was the only Woody movie ever nominated for a Razzie, you get the picture. It gets a humble 6 on the regular list but thanks to its innovative style promising more developed content soon in this genre from Woody, it nudge it across the passing grade to 4.5; the only Woody that works is the establishment and then the taking-apart of stereotypes; something that Shakespeare enjoyed doing himself.
17, Manhattan Murder Mystery 1993 is another movie in the crime genre that I really enjoyed watching, but could not place amongst the best of Woody's films. As a tribute to a genre of 50s & 60s crime movie, this movie works, however, to consider it as a film that could come exclusively from Woody's table, it does not work so much. There is simply no question that Diane Keaton and Woody share their sizzling chemistry from an earlier age; but this movie falls short as a nostalgic trip where everything is supposed to remind us of something else. The Woody quality of treating something ordinary in an extraordinary way, is absent. For this reason, though scoring highly on the regular scale, with 6.8 points, the movie barely makes it to a 4.7 on the Woody scale. The Woody element in this movie is Woody himself. That hurts the expectations a little.
16, The Curse of the Jade Scorpion 2001, with the gorgeous Helen Hunt and a hilariously cast Woody Allen (as a private investigator for an insurance firm), one expects so much out of this movie. It has a good cast and situations that are over the top, hilarious. The underlying sexual/romantic tension between the lead couple overflowing in a competitive childish manner in the beginning is just cute. Unfortunately, it ends up working only as a typical romantic comedy. That is bad, because other "crime" genre movies are so well made by Woody, that just a hypnotist-villain feels too uninspired. This movie gets a higher grade on the regular scale with 7.2 but suffers on the Woody scale just reaching 4.6: Dan Aykroyd as the two-timing boss with the cliché of "I'm getting divorced next month" is brilliant in this film.
15, Cassandra's Dream 2007 is definitely the most intense viewing of all the movies in this list with performances that overwhelmingly real and riveting and a screenplay that does not allow for an inch's error. With almost perfect characterizations for both Farrell and McGreggor and a brilliant cameo from Tom Wilkinson (almost as good as the one from Michael Clayton), and the haunting title from the name of the boat, which serves as both the grounding and escaping element, this movie is near perfection in craft. However, it could have been Darren Aronofsky who was making this movie. One feels that Woody went too bleak and too personal for us to actually enjoy the movie. What remains one of the best films I have seen this year is also at the same time, one of the most tiresome watches ever. It was a bit of a drag just after the half-way point. So despite a credible 5.0 on the Woody scale, the movie slumps to this position because of a tame 6.4 on the regular scale. The two sequences where the brothers plot the murder remains one of the best bits of acting in Farrell's career (and though I hate to admit it, he has done enough good movies for that to be a remarkable feat).
14, Scoop 2006 is actually a heart-break for me. Scarlett Johansson AND Hugh Jackman in this entertaining thriller is a great watch. Woody has never played a part which fits him more than this - of course, he always plays himself, but this is the most ironic situation that a person like him can ACTUALLY be in and still make it all about the story and not about him. So much is working FOR Scoop, but why is it so low down the ladder? It is because, let us be honest, the central plot itself lacked conviction. It was predictable and ordinary. The resolution was tame and it did nothing to make either Jackman or Johansson better than what they were - which usually is the high-selling point for the actors to fiercely compete wanting to be in a Woody film. I give this movie a stunning 8 on the watchability front while I give it a decent 4.8 for a movie on the lower half of the table. I wish I can rate this movie any better than it is, but I will be fooling myself.
13, Everything you have always wanted to know about sex, (but were afraid to ask) 1972 is an interesting pick for me; as it was one of the earliest Woody movies I have seen and I remember it fondly. It is not exactly a bad watch and will capture your attention for its creative conception and execution. What does not work in this movie for me is its episodic nature where the segments are often absurd for the point of being absurd. While the story of the sperm is an excellent telling of an ordinary story by a vivid imagination; something like a giant boob chasing people across a field simply does not appeal to me. The movie presents a lot of moments but all make you feel that they would have been better if they had had back stories that would have fed into and built on the existing moments. This movie gets a strong 7.7 in regular but just 4.7 on the Woody scale. We feel that the Woody streak of genius has almost set in; and it is just a matter of time before he embarks on his great phases.
12, Bananas 1971 features here quite unfortunately, because it is an excellent satire and one of the best political satires in the English movie universe. However, it features low on the list particularly because the craft of Woody's cinema has not been perfected at the time of this movie's making. However, one feels that without making a movie like this, at this stage, he would not have been able to mature into a more complete film (interestingly on a similar theme); Sleeper (1973). Bananas works at many levels but one feels that it would have been a more effective play rather than a movie for its highly symbolic nature. I give it a decent 6.6 (R) and a 5.1 (W).
11, Casino Royale 1966 being on the lower half of the scale is no big surprise, given that Woody was not even credited for this one (being low on the hollywood totem pole back then). Some people do not even consider this as a Woody film for it was written probably under terrible pressure from both the studios and the man who cannot keep his talented nose out of others' business, Peter Sellers. But I still add this to the list for I feel that there are so many unmistakably Woody elements in this Bond film. I place this film on the wall between the bottom and the top half, for though it is one of the weakest Woody films, it is also pretty imaginative. One can only speculate and sigh at the direction in which the Bond franchise would have traveled in, if only a more Woody was allowed to write building on this movie. With an ordinary 6.3 (R) and a respectable 5 (W), this movie is a reminder that genius can find a way to shine no matter how dire the circumstances are.
10, Zelig 1983 features on the second half of the list for the innovative style and content of the movie. The theme of identity runs strongly through all Woody movies. Finding one's self, either at the psychiatrist's couch or from the four walls of the house or everyday objects that take up a symbolic value, Woody always shows how important it is for a person to know their place in the equation of the world. No other film of Woody explores this idea more than this, where a mockumentary tracks the events surrounding an amazing character, Zelig who BECOMES the people he is with. The movie goes beyond just narrating a tale of love, lost and found for it finds a Universal element gently suggesting that we are all Zeligs who are more than happy to simply adjust to the scenario when it is tough to hold on to our own identities. I watched this movie with my best bud so early in the morning, that I could not remember much of it; so I watched it again. And boy, am I glad that I watched it a second time and I must admit, I was impressed. It is this compelling quality that makes me rate this movie high, despite its limited entertainment per se. This is simultaneously a well-made film as well as an total Woody show. This movie scores a solid 5.5 on the Woody scale and a humble 6.4 on the regular. With that, we enter the top half of the list.
9, Small Time Crooks 2000 is an excellent example of how a crime/heist genre of movie can be narrated in such a wholesome Woody style. As opposed to some of its lower ranked counterparts (Scoop, Manhattan Murder Mystery and The curse of the Jade Scorpion), this movie focuses more on the characters than the heist plot itself. Woody seems to get a grasp over the idea that crime has been done to death; so the only way he can make a meaningful addition to the genre is to show the anti-crime; where his characters are fools who try the old idea of digging from a different joint to do the "bank-job" but ending up hitting on a different kind of a jackpot. Tracy Ullman in her quest for class is a, excuse the bad pun, class act. The age-old prejudice/conflict between new money and old money is beautifully portrayed without pissing off the members of the audience who really don't have ANY money. Hugh Grant as David is not the obvious choice but this movie (unlike Scoop) helps the actor to reach a different level. This is why people want to work with Woody. Jon Lovitz could have been used better, but he does shine in his Benny. The precarious nature of their company and the sweet-sincere nature of everyone who's a part of that organization is well written. But it is Carolyn Saxon as Mae who kills us with her dead-pan humor and deeply empathetic performance. The circle of life completes itself almost too well; but I am fine with balance when it is aware of its own impossibility. The movie gets a good 7.1 (R) added to a 5.2 (W). It still cracks me up whenever I think of Woody threatening Tracy that he might hit her.
8, Mighty Aphrodite 1995 stars the ever so lovable Mira Sorvino in another stereotype as the whore with a golden heart. This movie has Woody taking heads-on academics by writing a modern masterpiece in the Greek Tragedy style and still maintaining the movie as a Comedy. The chorus, the development of the plot, the climax and even the deus ex machina at the end of the movie are so well-positioned and refreshingly used, that one does not for a moment stop to think of them as elements that are out of place. There have been many who have successfully adapted Greek Tragedies to the Modern stage but this is the closest that one can re-create the Greek Tragedy. The reversal happens furthering the plot. However, one important element of Greek Tragedy called anagnorisis (critical discovery) is deliberately by-passed to give a sense of irony - which is Woody's strongest point. With really good actors and an entertaining, everyday plot, this movie gets a good 7.2 (R) and a 5.8 (W), particularly because I cannot help but be impressed repeatedly by the treatment of the tale.
7, Radio Days 1987 is a nostalgic trip to a world which I have had little direct encounter with. However, when I saw the movie, I was transported to my own early childhood where, despite radios being out of fashion, my parents made a habit of waking us up to the news, the odd song, the social feature and the message for the day. I would go through my routine in the morning listening half-asleep to those features and would hasten or slow-down depending on which part of the morning program I was at. Though this movie is extremely topical, pertaining to a single culture and a specific time, it still appealed to me for it triggered off elements from my own life. For that reason, I give this movie an ordinary 6.1 (R) but also a commendable 5.9 (W). Nobody can help but to burst out laughing when they see who the voice of Superman is, in the movie. That is the magic of the radio - it shows you nothing; but it takes you there.
6, Interiors 1979 is a gripping drama which is never dealt with directly. The idea of taste as a feature of high-life and the cultured life is explored brilliantly. When people dismiss Woody as a comedic director, this movie keeps coming back to me. Not only is the taste expressed by the art department so overpoweringly symbolic, but also the tone of the different characters and their distance from the core narrative is explained without ever looking at the problem. This movie also has a delusional character in all its major parts that makes it very life-like. I like this movie for being distinctly Woody Allen in a very different manner; for it retains much of his grasp of human emotions while doing away with the ironic self-awareness inside his characters. This actually heightens the tension in the movie, making it a direct and at times, a forceful venture to tackle. This movie gets a jump to a 6.5 (W) while retaining a lower general rating at 6.5 due to its overly subtle dramatic context.
5, Annie Hall 1977 is often mentioned as the most favorite Woody film by many. The reasons are fairly straight-forward. It is highly entertaining with a plot that almost everyone can relate to. The highlight of this movie, however, is the sheer volume of direct address. The movie takes meta-theatricality as a window through which characters can speak their minds out without compromising on the overall impact or appearing didactic. There are so many elements that this movie offers for directors across the globe to copy from (or to use their term, be "inspired" by) and many have done a decent job of copying. What makes this movie only so-so for me is that, as Woody admits, it does have a neatly-wrapped nature to it. It takes the easy way out more often than is interesting in the story; particularly, when moments like the psychiatrists' couches are highly amusing and engaging. Diane Keaton and Woody Allen do well together in the movie but Keaton gives an impression that she is too forcefully unrealistic compared to other movies (like the one mentioned later). Something just does not click in this movie for her; as she jumps from one stereotype to another. La dee daa. This movie gets a watchable 7.1 (R) and a good 6.7 (W). The finest moments in the film for me are when Alvie Singer goes out in the road talking to random strangers who give their advice on how to live his life.
4, The Purple Rose of Cairo 1985 is perhaps the most poignantly told love story in the Woody canon, as far as I have seen. Mia Farrow is ever so believable but it is Jeff Daniels that steals the screen with his performance. He shows how good an actor he is (and not just a chubby/funny uncle to the Bob Saget's strict father) so many years before the Squid and the Whale. What really makes me value this movie so much above the others is that despite portraying bleakly the sanction of the victim in Mia's character, who repeatedly allows herself to be sacrificed by people who are worse than her; a sense of magic is always kept ticking in the movie. The unrealistic, the imaginative and the improbable serves as a perfect foil to the dark, mundane yet troubling flippancy of human nature. The meta-theatricality of the film as well as its attention to the ritual repetition of an action is also mind-boggling. That every action changes into something else over a period of repetition, is demonstrated by the archeologist who is tired of playing his character and steps out of the silver screen. The "real" actor, however is so real that he cannot split the line between acting and reality even at the most important moments of his life; showing the indecision of human nature which cares little for others, when personal interests take over. Mia's choice is another indicator towards her self-willed sacrifice. Totally, this movie works because of so many layers of codification presented in such a smooth and enjoyable tale. I give this movie a solid 7.8 (R) and 7 (W). What a lovely treat this movie is! It often makes me to think of the movie within the movie, hoping that it gets made some day.
1, Sleeper 1973, is the only movie starring Woody in the top3. Surprising, I must say. Just as surprising as it would be for a LOT of people that I even added this film in the top3 (I should stop calling it that, for it is meant to be a three-way-tie for the #1), let alone the top half of the list. I am a strange man and I like strange things; but this is no odd pick if you have followed the style of this rating. Does this movie have a simple but strong basic storyline? Check. Does it show a sense of awareness that other film-makers cannot reach? Check. Does this have wave after wave of reversals and ironic comedy? Check. Does this movie talk to global audience without trappings of topicality? Check. Then why is it surprising that it features at the top of the list? This movie is relentless in its attack towards EVERYTHING that human society does. Surprisingly, Woody takes up the mask of the pessimist who is actually an Optimist at such an early venture - a recurrent motif that finds its way into his movies as late as '09. The idea of doing what makes you happy is featured explicitly in this film where Diane Keaton does her finest work as a Woody-Muse. No one can keep a straight face while watching the sex with a sphere scene and when Woody wakes up from his "sleeping". When the storyline is to look at dystopian future from a 70s point of view, one expects this movie to be extremely dated and reductionist. However, it is surprisingly fresh AND relevant even today. I get the feeling that this is how 1984 would have been if Orwell was high while writing it. This movie gets a whooping 8.6 (R) and 8 (W). I still double up laughing just thinking of Diane Keaton doing her Marlon Brando impression (the best I have seen to date).
1, Whatever Works! 2009 is not a single movie. It is like a snowball that has been gathering momentum for over forty years finally exploding into the existence. This movie is an excellent example of what a Woody film without Woody in the lead should be like. There is not even an iota's attempt on Larry David's part to BE Woody. Instead, he shows how good an actor he is; by carrying the ball when trusted with the solo lead in a Woody film. This is such a contrast to Celebrity's Ken Branagh. The movie has been dissed by some as an ego-massage that Woody treated himself to by making a young twenty something to fall in love with a near seventy year old. However, one who watches the movie with some involvement would see that it is not an exercise in self-indulgence but a rational demonstration of what could happen when a grumpy old man is willing to give life another chance. Just because you get out after a long time on a particular bus, it does not mean that you have to ultimately choose that bus as the journey companion for the rest of your life. The idea of reformation is also reminiscent of Annie Hall, and there are umpteen references to that movie indirectly and directly; but this movie seems more complete for it is made by the same man with a more seasoned world-view. This is the movie that Woody anticipates at the end of Annie Hall, where he sheepishly admits that it was his first play anyway. This love story is bound to shock and entertain anyone who watches it but at the heart of it, the philosophy of individual happiness that can be squeezed out of a cactus in a desert shines through. The movie gets a solid 9 (R) and a monumental 8.5 (W). Interesting enough, the constant re-evaluation of David's score for the girl at his home shows how frail the human mind is as well as how we all need a little attention from the cruel, unforgiving world.
1, Match Point 2005 is for me, the best movie Woody has ever made. It is a personal favorite; for it was the FIRST ever Woody Allen movie I watched. Where do I start why this movie is good? The casting is excellent. Jonathan Rhys Myers is one of this generation's most under-appreciated stars, who is exponentially talented in comparison with what is credited to him. Scarlett Johansson in her best movie role. This is the epitome of film-making where a dark, sinister story unfolds in the most uncontrollably real fashion. If you must know, Woody tells the entire story in the first 30 seconds or so of the film. What follows hits you at a gut level for it is not beyond possibility, despite the overwhelming sense of cosmic drama at play. The movie is every-bit an instant classic. So much of the tale is pulled together at its core, that even to say anything more than this would compromise the plot. So without further ado, I give this movie an insurmountable 9 on both the regular and the Woody scale. I must say that my perception of tennis underwent considerable change after watching this epic written on the success of luck over virtue. Back when I used to get Zee Studio relay, I used to catch glimpses of this movie whenever it was played.
A lot of people say that Woody is an intellectual director who is so complex that the regular crowd would not take a liking to him, as they like someone like, say Steve Martin. Some say, oh, Woody just trivializes some of the greatest ideas of human civilization into a farce where he takes nothing seriously, making him an escapist. So, what kind of a director is Woody Allen; what does he represent to me? For me, Woody is a Non-Conformist - which is such a tough thing to be. Having been in an industry for nearly five decades, Woody still finds enough cause to stick on to his philosophy which he explains as early as '73 even in a movie made in '09. Changing one's mind is easy. It is almost inevitable over a period of time. We grow embarrassed of our decisions in the past. We are always looking for what's new and what's next. There have been cases of many priests who have had faith-crisis over a period of time; not for any other reason but just because they have been priests for so long. Does it not take the highest courage and strength and sheer will-power to doggedly hang on to the same core value while constantly upgrading and evolving the self? That stubbornness, that determination to be aware of the nature of the world around him and the relationship between him and the world around, makes Woody the most memorable personalities, not just in film, for me.
In my simple words, here is the Woody idea for life in a few lines; A lot of different people have a lot of different ways to define the world as such and such. Classifications, naming things, ideas seem to be the favorite pastime of humans. Each declares that their idea is so superior to the rest of the ideas that they stop figuring their own place in the universe. Stop worrying about all that. Do whatever works for you. If you are happy and can make a few people around you happy, you have done well in your life.
Now, that is a philosophy to live for!
Whose history does the sad goddess sing about?
In the poem Colonial Girl’s School, Olive Senior writes about how her school, in Jamaica taught her the language of Shakespeare and declensions in Latin but “Told us nothing about ourselves, There was nothing about us at all.” A land ruled by another race is distinctly different from its past. There are erasures and continuity is compromised in this subordinated life. However their products still have deep-rooted connection to what can be called home; like the Lhamo, for instance. The Tibetan opera is a form that has found strength in its identity as a displaced art. Not long ago, it was an unchanging tradition that was passed down over centuries in the strictest discipline. It has, however, now found new strength by drawing attention to itself as a rootless tradition. Lhamo has transformed itself into a window to the historic and cultural past of the Tibetan people. The form itself is quite different from the Peking Opera not only in its style but also due to its highly Classical (Sanskrit) structure. It also gives a much more important position to women due its origins which trace the first performers as women (the word Lhamo which means Goddess, comes from a phrase that they look like dancing Goddesses). The significance of this art form was so high in Tibetan culture, that when his Holiness, Dalai Lama came to India in 1959, one of the first institutions he established was the Tibetan Institute of Performance Arts. It was under his efforts that there has been a recent attempt to revive the Shoton festival, to encourage Lhamo performances. Traditionally, this festival was held for a week at Norbolinga, in Tibet, the summer palace of his Holiness with performances by the four district troupes of Tibet. In India, the troupes come from different settlements across the country, though the main performances are from TIPA itself.
As encouraging as it sounds, we must pay attention to the deteriorating interest in the Lhamo. The length of the plays (they are originally seven hours long) too discourages many from taking an active interest in it. Even though modern versions are brought down to the usual two-hour traffic, the apathy towards Lhamo continues. With stylized dance moves and high-pitched singing, it has taken up a ceremonious role in the society as opposed to its traditional role as an entertainment for the masses. Some say that the reason behind this lack of interest is due to the lack of quality Lhamo. Students these days are more interested in training themselves in dance and music and the Lhamo becomes a routine feature of their annual activities. Since it is easy for a good musician or a good dancer to get cast in chief parts of Lhamo, specially trained actors have become a rarity in this craft.
If one digs deeper considering the attrition as a symptom rather than a cause in itself, we can see that the chief reason is that despite its captivating ritual-nature, the Lhamo falls short due to its limited canon. Outside the dozen or so traditional works inspired from Sanskrit, there have been a few original plays written for performance. Most of them are invariably weak as the new plots are framed in the same structure with similar characters, as well as borrowing heavily from dance sequences from traditional plays. Most importantly, no songs are originally written but used from the traditional repertoire. This presents with very little scope for innovation and driven many students away from the theatrical side of things. Interestingly, a form which has survived and thrived without any formal structure has fallen on hard times despite organized support in the form of TIPA. What could be the reason?
The answer is a little anti-climactic for its obvious nature. It is the structure that has changed the fortunes of the Lhamo. Well, the structure that has been brought upon by the displacement. What was once a tradition that was home-grown in each district with its own regional flavor, was now a composite cultured in a forced environment of the Institute. The voice of the oppressed never finds the same pitch if it is silenced once, for there has been a change. This change in the state of life has sadly never been addressed by TIPA. Instead of forming a powerful that could speak aloud bravely of the tragic tale of their homeland, TIPA has manufactured the perfect Cultural-Historical sample piece which makes no effort to developing into an organic, contemporary form. Rather than focusing on turning the Lhamo into a vehicle for the future which focuses on contemporary problems of this displaced society, it has become a mere spectacle which commands little attention even from its own people. As a people who were forced to find homes in an alien land, the Tibetan public could not make a connection with the folk tales whose meaning have only an ironic value today. Disconnect, however, does not occur in isolation.
Since it is easier to ignore that which is politically uncomfortable, the refugee becomes the biggest blot on the clean chit of diplomacy. How can we get investors from China when those who fled the country are treated with dignity within the boundaries of our nation? We change our stand. The unconditional welcome to the fleeing thousands is cast outside the discourse of politics. We give them shelter, like we give shelter to dogs in the rain. But we really do not care much about the politics of why they are here. We do not want to find out. What drove them? Oh, Lhasa is a very cold place; so they wanted to move somewhere warmer. It is easier to believe that. So continues our hand-wringing, apologetic explanations of the embarrassment that our guests have become. India is a nation without a middle class. The top five percent of the nation controls its majority resources. When the picture of India needs some shining, all the remaining 95% is brushed under the carpet. Minorities, tribal peoples, refugees; they are the same. They are the collective shame of a nation which is fast trying to be developed nation. How do we do that? We will them into a collective non-existence. We change our past. They are there but we pretend they are not; like cockroaches.
Indians have an obsession with history. Like any other country in the world, we have books on history in school, compulsorily read till class ten. But unlike any other country in the world, our history books are dialogues of a total, singular Indian identity with the rest of the world. We are so involved in our pasts that we have developed an ingenious system of filtering, which selects which history is non-offensive to a certain national character we are supposed to accept and be proud of. The event which has had the highest impact on the modern Indian nation is not liberalization as the World-Indian-Citizens would like one to believe, but the Emergency. And still, it is reduced to a paragraph with three lines in it, mentioning the start of it, the end date and what its constitutional position is. Nobody is willing to tackle the emergency in its own terms. Once we are willing to assume a purpose and a position, there is nothing that we are not willing to compromise to achieve it. Education is always the first victim to this sense of purpose. So has it been the case in a place like TIPA.
The students are selected, almost at random, when they are as young as seven or eight years of age. They are isolated and trained in an academy which also gives them a regular school education. However, the question of choice is totally eliminated. This might have produced great actors in the past where children are simply hypothecated to performance groups. It does not, however, work in a world where they have been displaced from what was once their home. They are not just performers but are loaded with the double responsibility of representing their nation-in-exile as well as being artistes. This is where we realize that a specific system of education has hurt them enough for many students to not want to pursue the course they are supposed to follow. It is tragic, particularly when a form which could be a protest in its sheer performance, becomes an archaic, out-dated and inaccessible element in the minds of the people who are supposed to take it forward.
What could be done? For all the good work TIPA has done in the past years, it has also secluded itself from the rest of the town and townsfolk. To re-integrate itself with its people is the only way to allay any hostility towards “the tourist-like attitude of the people from TIPA”. Any sense of resistance must first come from within. For this very reason, the Lhamo needs to not only find new tales to tell but also find new music and expression to give life to those new tales. The double consciousness of being an individual as well as a refugee must not be compromised in following a system of art. In essence, a shift from an eclectic towards the popular will create new avenues for this otherwise captivating art form.
And from this, a form will spring forth, which can reach its audience while demonstrating contemporary concerns. Children would learn from songs, about the past and their futures for statistics can explain only so much. For not just what we learn, but the way we learn it has a role to play in what we retain and what we let go.
As encouraging as it sounds, we must pay attention to the deteriorating interest in the Lhamo. The length of the plays (they are originally seven hours long) too discourages many from taking an active interest in it. Even though modern versions are brought down to the usual two-hour traffic, the apathy towards Lhamo continues. With stylized dance moves and high-pitched singing, it has taken up a ceremonious role in the society as opposed to its traditional role as an entertainment for the masses. Some say that the reason behind this lack of interest is due to the lack of quality Lhamo. Students these days are more interested in training themselves in dance and music and the Lhamo becomes a routine feature of their annual activities. Since it is easy for a good musician or a good dancer to get cast in chief parts of Lhamo, specially trained actors have become a rarity in this craft.
If one digs deeper considering the attrition as a symptom rather than a cause in itself, we can see that the chief reason is that despite its captivating ritual-nature, the Lhamo falls short due to its limited canon. Outside the dozen or so traditional works inspired from Sanskrit, there have been a few original plays written for performance. Most of them are invariably weak as the new plots are framed in the same structure with similar characters, as well as borrowing heavily from dance sequences from traditional plays. Most importantly, no songs are originally written but used from the traditional repertoire. This presents with very little scope for innovation and driven many students away from the theatrical side of things. Interestingly, a form which has survived and thrived without any formal structure has fallen on hard times despite organized support in the form of TIPA. What could be the reason?
The answer is a little anti-climactic for its obvious nature. It is the structure that has changed the fortunes of the Lhamo. Well, the structure that has been brought upon by the displacement. What was once a tradition that was home-grown in each district with its own regional flavor, was now a composite cultured in a forced environment of the Institute. The voice of the oppressed never finds the same pitch if it is silenced once, for there has been a change. This change in the state of life has sadly never been addressed by TIPA. Instead of forming a powerful that could speak aloud bravely of the tragic tale of their homeland, TIPA has manufactured the perfect Cultural-Historical sample piece which makes no effort to developing into an organic, contemporary form. Rather than focusing on turning the Lhamo into a vehicle for the future which focuses on contemporary problems of this displaced society, it has become a mere spectacle which commands little attention even from its own people. As a people who were forced to find homes in an alien land, the Tibetan public could not make a connection with the folk tales whose meaning have only an ironic value today. Disconnect, however, does not occur in isolation.
Since it is easier to ignore that which is politically uncomfortable, the refugee becomes the biggest blot on the clean chit of diplomacy. How can we get investors from China when those who fled the country are treated with dignity within the boundaries of our nation? We change our stand. The unconditional welcome to the fleeing thousands is cast outside the discourse of politics. We give them shelter, like we give shelter to dogs in the rain. But we really do not care much about the politics of why they are here. We do not want to find out. What drove them? Oh, Lhasa is a very cold place; so they wanted to move somewhere warmer. It is easier to believe that. So continues our hand-wringing, apologetic explanations of the embarrassment that our guests have become. India is a nation without a middle class. The top five percent of the nation controls its majority resources. When the picture of India needs some shining, all the remaining 95% is brushed under the carpet. Minorities, tribal peoples, refugees; they are the same. They are the collective shame of a nation which is fast trying to be developed nation. How do we do that? We will them into a collective non-existence. We change our past. They are there but we pretend they are not; like cockroaches.
Indians have an obsession with history. Like any other country in the world, we have books on history in school, compulsorily read till class ten. But unlike any other country in the world, our history books are dialogues of a total, singular Indian identity with the rest of the world. We are so involved in our pasts that we have developed an ingenious system of filtering, which selects which history is non-offensive to a certain national character we are supposed to accept and be proud of. The event which has had the highest impact on the modern Indian nation is not liberalization as the World-Indian-Citizens would like one to believe, but the Emergency. And still, it is reduced to a paragraph with three lines in it, mentioning the start of it, the end date and what its constitutional position is. Nobody is willing to tackle the emergency in its own terms. Once we are willing to assume a purpose and a position, there is nothing that we are not willing to compromise to achieve it. Education is always the first victim to this sense of purpose. So has it been the case in a place like TIPA.
The students are selected, almost at random, when they are as young as seven or eight years of age. They are isolated and trained in an academy which also gives them a regular school education. However, the question of choice is totally eliminated. This might have produced great actors in the past where children are simply hypothecated to performance groups. It does not, however, work in a world where they have been displaced from what was once their home. They are not just performers but are loaded with the double responsibility of representing their nation-in-exile as well as being artistes. This is where we realize that a specific system of education has hurt them enough for many students to not want to pursue the course they are supposed to follow. It is tragic, particularly when a form which could be a protest in its sheer performance, becomes an archaic, out-dated and inaccessible element in the minds of the people who are supposed to take it forward.
What could be done? For all the good work TIPA has done in the past years, it has also secluded itself from the rest of the town and townsfolk. To re-integrate itself with its people is the only way to allay any hostility towards “the tourist-like attitude of the people from TIPA”. Any sense of resistance must first come from within. For this very reason, the Lhamo needs to not only find new tales to tell but also find new music and expression to give life to those new tales. The double consciousness of being an individual as well as a refugee must not be compromised in following a system of art. In essence, a shift from an eclectic towards the popular will create new avenues for this otherwise captivating art form.
And from this, a form will spring forth, which can reach its audience while demonstrating contemporary concerns. Children would learn from songs, about the past and their futures for statistics can explain only so much. For not just what we learn, but the way we learn it has a role to play in what we retain and what we let go.
05 July 2010
An Enemy in My State of Being
Bharat Bandh
Bandh - to close/stop/nullify.
"Is this how you raise a protest? By coercing people?" "Anyone who says that a protest is raised in any other way, is a liar - a big fat one."
Enough has been said. But nothing happens.
My head is hung low and my hand raised high; I am a slave in this soverign, socialist, secular, democratic, republic of India.
Visuals of a man slapping another into submission when he tries getting into a train. We don't slap back. Andheri, one of the most crowded railway stations in the world, is empty. Today is not a Monday. As the French call it, we like "faire le point" - to make an extension. It's Monday; a convenient day to call a bandh. We have three days of a weekend instead of two. What is the price of this convenience? Shame. We don't give a fuck. We are happy being slaves.
Practically, who bears the brunt of this grand gesture? Who pays the price tomorrow for the vegetables and meat rotting in the godowns today? Who has to meet impossible deadlines at work? Who has to lose a job? Who has to lose his life? Not you - that pretend that standing on top a train and posing for cameras is protest. I have to. My father, my mother, my neighbors, my friends. We pay twice the amount of things because of your tyranny.
If this state, which has so vocally called everything to stand-still, really cares for its people that it wants the prices of feul to come down; why does it not bear a loss and take a cut on taxes from its share of the price? Which one of these spineless snails came out to say, we shall work one day extra without a pay, for the govt has cut ten rupees from the overall fuel prices in India. Then too, petrol was still two rupees dearer in Kolkata than any other city. Madras, which has to bear additional transportation costs for fuel still stood at 42, when I shelled out 44 here in the City of Joy. What right does this hypocritical government have to "enforce" an illegal bandh?
You want a bandh. I will tell you how to really get that done. If your problem is with the Lawmakers, Block them in a room; without allowing the margin space to get up and stretch their hands. Twelve hours; refuse use of toilet or access to food and medicines. You want to hurt someone, try starting from the top. You motherfuckers will not dare to. Just like the cry for rebellion will always start and end with gutting of the police constable who has no reason to think he is an "Other"; this so-called excercise on democracy will piss on only those who will open their mouths wide and smile. Mark my words, one of these days, someone is going to do something about this. One random day, one of these people who are so happy to call a bandh as a right to protest will be protested against. Twelve-hours/twenty four, it doesn't matter. They will be shamed when they faint from hunger and collapse in the middle of an unforgiving crowd of self-respecting individuals. Shitting themselves to their real disgusting selves; they will never recover the respect that they pretend they command.
78 BEST buses have been reported to have been damaged in Mumbai. Reported. How many others, we do not know. Throwing stones at a bus is not protest. It is violence against public property. Why should I abstain from throwing a bigger stone back at he who cast the first stone? He has broken the law. Why should I be a better citizen? Why should I stop with stones; what about bullets? Why can I not just set fire to him as he sets fire to the bus that has been bought with the money that my father could have used to buy our household any comfort that we would have enjoyed; but rather paid as taxes.? You break a law and I break your bone. Protest that. I will break your bone again. This is not tyranny. This is a need for justice. If you choose to live under a system, you have to accept its laws. If you want to change them, you have to do that in its own terms. Take to the streets and make a circus; that is because you are not qualified to know any better. Do you not have your best friends in the media to give a full day ego massage to your misdemeanors? The next time you lie down on a railway track, the train will run over you and make you into a faceless pulp that is useless for anything except feeding vultures. At least, those vultures wait until one is dead. You bastards; you eat my liver when I am taking a nap.
My head hung low and hand raised high; I am a slave. Because I do nothing about it.
03 July 2010
The football Note
Initially, with every other person doing their World Cup 2010 column/running diary/report, I wanted to keep away from it. But when I was delighted with the news of Italy biting the dust in the group stages, I was lured towards the dark-side. However, it was not until Argentina had went down four-nil against Germany, that I was finally pushed to write this. Keeping my word, this is not going to be a full-blown WC10 column, but a little story of how I encountered football in my life and why I think it is the greatest game every played. (well, apart from tennis, because it kicks ass and golf; because it is the official greatest game ever played - disney even made a movie based on it).
But before that, lemme quickly give my views on WC10 heading into the last week of the WCfinals. First off, it was no surprise Italy got their ass handed to them on a plate; because not only was their game-plan without a finish but also I believe in Divine Retribution for what Materazzi did. No matter what; bottomline is, Zidane will always be remembered as the guy who won the French their '98 WC. Materazzi would be just the guy who Zizou planted on the grass. In the teams that I liked, France and England both looked off-color. One man cannot win a match. Blaming Rooney is absurd. Or Domenech. And let's face it, blaming the ball is going to take them only so far. That many South American teams looked good makes me happy but I was happiest for Japan and Ghana; for the former looked good until the last minute it went under and Ghana had a great run with an equal balance of luck and talent. Brazil's knockout does nothing to me; I am neither disappointed, nor happy. Their entire team did very little for me this time. They looked like a champion side in 2002. But after that, they were never in the zone carrying too much baggage of both expectations and unncessary stars. The Germans have proved so many wrong; I always like their team - but not as much as the one that went into the finals of 2002 - that team, I worshipped. Tonight, in black and gold, they looked like a champion side and it felt great for another personal (KKR related) reasons. Usually, I back two teams for each WC; a big name and an absolute outsider. Senegal/South Korea were my picks which made me proud. At times, my picks like England let me down. However, this time, Ghana crashed in the round of 16s but Netherlands are looking good. Scratch what I said about one man not winning a match; Arjen Robben is looking like a god out there. More Oranje!
Now, after that not so short note about World-Cup football, let me quickly trace my fascination with the football. The year was 1994. I don't remember why, but I was at my grandma's place that couple of weeks. Perhaps a vacation or something (it WAS the month of June but I don't know; back then we went there almost every weekend). My grandfather was a worker in the Eveready company and he worked in shifts. The World Cup 94 was happening in the US of A; and my grandfather would walk in quietly and switch on the TV. I would get up and he would make facial expressions that warned me to go back to sleep. I was eight years old. I pretended to go to sleep but stay up and watch those matches with him. All I knew back then was that the guys wearing yellow and blue were the good guys. To show off that I shared a secret with my grandfather that he knew nothing about, I would rant off names of footballers to my brother. Bebeto, Romario, Baggio, Pele, Maradona. And one more German guy whose name I understood not. The Brazillians lifted the World cup for a record fourth time. Ever since, I started being fond of that sport where twenty two men ran after a single ball.
Over the years, I always wanted a football and one of my family friends gifted one to me and my brother. Back then, I had to go for evening walks to practice my walking. I hated it like anything because it came in the way of anything that I wanted to do. The one thing that did spice things up for me was playing with the football while walking. I made reluctant opponents out of my father and my mother and my grandfather was the most enthusiastic and the one who gave me inside info of how to play the game. As a kid, he had gone to St. Paul's school where he played both hockey and football. All those stories amazed me and influenced me to be partial to be this great game. The 1998 World Cup did not make me very happy because this time I was following the matches on my own. I tried to get completely behind Brazil like my grandfather. But I lost interest when he said that it looked like the Brazillians took a dive for money.
Four more years had passed when the world cup came to this side of the world. By this time, I was more aware about world football happenings thanks to my friends at school who religiously played some game with the football (I would not call the game they played football due to their reluctance to run and their single-minded strategy of mobbing behind the ball. We once lost famously 17 to nothing. Good times!). I followed the English premier league and was not the only one in my class to be taken over by the Beckhamania. The first Asian hosts, South Korea and Japan impressed the world with their great opening ceremonies. Though I favored the English team, I liked the fairy-tales written by Park Ji Sung and Papa Bouppa Diop for SKorea and Senegal respectively. One man altered my perception of the game totally. The greatest goal-keeper I have ever seen at play at any level. Oliver Kahn. Having concede just three goals in the entire WCFinals, (two in the championship match), he was the winner of the Lev Yashin award that year, he is also the only goal-keeper to have won the Golden Ball. He also inspired me to write one of my most favorite short-stories. New stars were made in Ballack, Klose and Schweinsteiger. But Brazil was fated to lift their fifth.
By the time the 2006 World Cup took place in Germany, my interests in sports had shifted to another excellent game (about which I will write at length some other day) called Tennis. But I did sparingly follow that one. A hero proved why he was the most valuable player in the world almost a decade after his first rise to prominence. He never apologized and for that reason he remains, tied with Kahn, as my most favorite footballer of all time. He also showed how effective a head-butt can be in a real-life scenario.
That brings us to this World Cup! This one is still underway. But I have seen very little exceptional football. I must admit that I ahve not seen all the matches this season; however, there seems too little happening. So let us wait for the final week to surprise us. We have the big six matches to wonder about. Yesterday, when Brazil got knocked out, I read in the papers that half of Kolkata was in tears. Today, when Argentina got their behinds kicked, I expected the rest of the city to be gloomy. But surprise, surprise; there was a long bout of fireworks. I figured it out a little later; only one thing is possible. That was the Brazil supporters expressing their joy.
Like little Tim said, God bless us everyone.
01 July 2010
End of An Era
It's the monsoons again. My third one here. The strange thing with every passing year is that, as we grow up, time seems to rush past us. Remember the year 1998? I don't. Not most of it. Just one thing stands out more than the others; waiting for it to get over. The whole year. Why? Because 1999 was such a cool number. The year 1999 was spent anticipating the change which happened once in thousand years. That's something that 30 generations of people before and after me would not be able to do; to change the first number in the four-digit year. Wating to traverse those tweleve months seemed like the slowest journey one could make. What about the other things done in that year? Memory, like a photo album, captures moments with its tales wrapped underneath. I could recover a special moment from that age if I really tried. But those which stand untarnished and at the top of my mind are those from the recent past. For the want of a better bracketing, let me say, the past two years.
There are two kinds of memory. Not in the physio-psychological manner but in the everyday sense of things. Memories we long for and memories we wish to avoid. Most times, our minds make one of the other; through a process of selection. That is why we should be wary of thinking that everything from the good times was great and everything that sucked was horrible. We select our memories. We choose a few and reject the others; to make our versions of ourselves consistent. That is how much we love ourselves.
Masters' in English is done and how much have I learnt and how much have I given back to the world? Questions I cannot answer. The direction in which I am set to travel becomes clearer. Things change and they remain the same. One can only keep walking. I think I have and I will. But when I look out the window and see the freshly drenched leaves showing multiple shades of green thanks to the muted light from the sun; I realize that it has all truly rolled to a stop. Two July 1sts ago, I stepped into the Department of English, Jadavpur University as a fresher. Two years have passed exactly and now, I am back where it all started; a professional/academic ground-zero. The possibilities are endless. Now, the next step beckons.
There are two kinds of memory. Not in the physio-psychological manner but in the everyday sense of things. Memories we long for and memories we wish to avoid. Most times, our minds make one of the other; through a process of selection. That is why we should be wary of thinking that everything from the good times was great and everything that sucked was horrible. We select our memories. We choose a few and reject the others; to make our versions of ourselves consistent. That is how much we love ourselves.
Masters' in English is done and how much have I learnt and how much have I given back to the world? Questions I cannot answer. The direction in which I am set to travel becomes clearer. Things change and they remain the same. One can only keep walking. I think I have and I will. But when I look out the window and see the freshly drenched leaves showing multiple shades of green thanks to the muted light from the sun; I realize that it has all truly rolled to a stop. Two July 1sts ago, I stepped into the Department of English, Jadavpur University as a fresher. Two years have passed exactly and now, I am back where it all started; a professional/academic ground-zero. The possibilities are endless. Now, the next step beckons.
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