Delhi-6

One should not go to a film with the memories of the previous films by the same director even though the film posters advertise that point. Because, the expectations and the reality are grossly different. Rakaysh Omprakash Mehra (ROM from now on), continues to innovate, but does not maintain a continuous link with the viewer. Burdened by his successful past, and the desire to be "different", he creates moments of extreme intelligence and beauty--but they are just that--moments lost in the general overambitiousness of the film. To tell a story simply and with force is difficult. To tell multiple stories and then trying to tie up too many loose ends with sanctimony and sermonizing, is like tightrope walking--and ROM falls flat on his face in the last segments.

And yet, it began promisingly enough. Roshan(Abhisekh) volunteers to take his grandmother(Waheeda) back to her roots in Delhi, where she plans to live the last days of her life. The chaos, of the Chandni Chowk streets, the traffic, the inhabitants and the relatives and neighbours, the multifarious hues, smells and indiscipline are magnificently portrayed by the roving camera of Vinod Pradhan. The sudden deviations, the twists and turns of the narrow lanes are faithfully followed, and occasionally the camera shies upwards to the flying pigeons and the profiles of the Masjid and the Delhi skyline, as if it is a separate character in the film, the commentator, the observer and of course the recorder. The characters are quickly etched out.

 

Om Puri (Elder brother and less well off), and Pawan Malhotra(Younger brother and richer), build a brick wall between their houses, from where a brick is surreptitiously removed to allow gossiping between their wives!!!. Bittu(Sonam Kapoor) is  Om Puri's daughter, aspiring to do  something in life(how cliched...), like trying to be an Indian Idol star (what is there for a middle class girl to achieve fame?--is one of the B grade lines....). ..People of course have forgotten academics, perseverance, hard work etc. according to these accomplished dialogue writers!!!! The Masakali is permanently grounded and not allowed to fly, but does so after Roshan sends it aloft.

 

There is of course, the traditional Hindu Lala and the Islamic neighbour. People in this so called reality--fairyland, make achars on the roof, fervently follow the RamLila, and the bhajan singing, and the Namaaz, and are so so friendly---till of course a Kala Bandar invades their lives and all the misdemeanours are attributed to it--including rape and assault. The story then degenerates into a mandir--masjid issue, the saddhi and the maulabhi trade insults, the mobs are religiously divided and aggressive. What a simplistic explanation of communal violence!!!

 

Bittu refuses to get married and  Roshan falls for her.Roshan captures images on his mobile camera. But a fakir starts going around showing a mirror to everybody (their own images) and starts saying that there is a God in every heart. Abhisekh is beaten up by people from both sides.He is dying, but along comes Dad Amitabh in an absolutely silly and unnecessary dream netherworld sequence, following which and a few well directed cardiac thumps from a doctor, he survives and the typical Hindi film ending of love and togetherness  triumphing is picturised, possibly under commercial instructions. If a director starts by trying to be different and ends up treading the same beaten path, the disappointment is magnified.

 

There are too many cliches in the film. There are too many dialogues we have heard umpteen times in theatre and films. There are too many situations and symbols which are familiar. How much can you rely on the treatment of a film unless there is a meaty story to back it up? How much surprise can a camera and clever editing generate? How can you grapple with scenes, and make up and accents which are as unreal in a film which by its title and situation is trying to portray reality?

Abhisekh seems to have stepped out of his ad films. Sonam is a surprise and promising---but not outstanding. The support characters are a galaxy of the best in India. Rishi Kapoor, Prem Chopra,Waheeda Rehman, Tanvi Azmi, Supriya Pathak,Atul Kulkarni, Vijay Raaz have all done what they were supposed to do with efficiency and ease--but lacked time and space in the story to do any better.

A.R.Rahaman's music is good, but is wasted in the situations that they are placed, except the Mashakali and Dil Gira song. Yes, the New York--Delhi mixed visualisation  was a wonderfully aesthetic creation. I have a sneaking suspicion , that if he had the time, he would have probably changed certain aspects of the music and picturisation.

Both these songs are unique. One for its free style (sung by Mohit Chauhan) and the  Arabian  percussion, and the other for the voice of film singing debutant Ash King, the new star.

Masakali.mp3

Delhi 6  finally remains a stageplay which was filmed and exhibited in cinema halls. Its ultimate tragedy is that it tried but failed to become good cinema. Next time around ROM, stick to a simple gripping storyline, get a single scriptwriter,use a not so famous song composer, and say hell to commercial considerations and make a film..... Good films will generate money by themselves--but of course, you know that.. Please do not sermonise or pontificate. We, ordinary viewers are more intelligent than you think.

Dil Gira Dafatan.m...

Its worth a look--but not and never, a relook...

Slumdog Millionaire

The most difficult part of viewing this is separating the hype from the actual film. Every moment, you seem to be comparing what is actually happening on the screen with the numerous comments, interviews, prizes , awards and of course, THE Oscar nominations!!!

The film is being overshadowed by its publicity. The simple modern fairytale of a slumdweller and chaiwallah answering question after question on a televised quiz show and winning millions is cliched. Jamal Malik (the hero had to be a Muslim to show his backwardness) is played by Dev Patel who is as sophisticated as you can get with a Pom accent. He is a fine actor, but his casting was neither realistic nor appropriate.

Every question that he answers are somehow related to his past slum life. This is fine for the first few questions, but later becomes predictable and then extremely boring and contrived. The director had to bring in episodes like a boy Jamal, wading through a mound of shit (yes, shit!!!) to get an autograph of Amitabh Bacchan. While it brings on some horrified giggles and "Chee!! How dirty,,," incredulous exclamations, one cannot help thinking as to how this was a relook at the indomitable spirit of a rising India (the words of some of the self proclaimed, band wagon hoppers and publicists  )....

Worse was yet to come. The most significant actor in Hindi films nowadays is Irfan Khan. He was forced into a role of a policeman, not investigating a murder or robbery, but one who was curious to know how Jamal knew the answers in spite of his limited upbringing. To get this, he actually electrocutes the teenager and with Saurav Shukla(his sidekick), hits him repeatedly in a brutal torture. Irfan shows his total apathy for the role, and seems to heave a sigh of relief at the conclusion. It is really difficult to see an intelligent actor like him going anywhere near this role for bucks. He must have been paid in superbucks--but he will not recommend this film a few years down the line. He might ,just decide to hide his role....

The screenplay now follows Charles Dickens    ( British writers still suffer from this hangover, specially when writing about children). A convenient villain(Maman) surfaces who maims and blinds children so that they can beg and bring him money.Thank god, they did not bring in a single elephant or a snake charmer!!! The Western view of India has really gone a teeny weeny step forward!!!!

In between comes an elder brother Salim with a burn in his willy due to hot chillies. It is amazing how the slumdogs pick up the English language, and what is purported to be the mannerisms of a gangster (a la a thousand Hindi films..)

He takes the girl Jamal loves as his own, and subsequently transfers her to his boss (Mahesh Manjrekar). Jamal however keeps on looking for her and wants to run away with her (as in countless Hindi, Bengali, Tamil, Telegu etc. etc. ad nauseum). Freida Pinto is fresh and expressive but hey, we have seen all this many times.

The gangsters intervene, blood flows, brother dies covered in Indian banknotes (like a B grade Bollywood movie)--at which point I thought Danny Boyle had lost the purpose of the film. But he did give scope to Anil Kapoor. This man's English pronunciation is deplorable, but he did manage to convey the slyness and ego of the Host. One of the film's finest twists was when Anil Kapoor fed Jamal the wrong answer in the bathroom, but Jamal, in true survivor mode, rejected the answer and honed in on the correct one by elimination.

The film is salvaged only by some outstanding acting by the slum kids, cinematography(Anthony Dod Mantle) and music. A.R.Rahaman has done far superior work in at least half a dozen films.However, this time he had the backing of a hyperactive, hyperventilating international marketing blitz. All credit to him and his prizes. Though ,one could not understand why a Western Classical music opera was needed to convey a sense of awe among the slumdogs. Maybe it was just an expression of musical superiority.

The Taj episode was hilarious, perhaps the only area that the film  speared its own expected majority viewers!!!!

But the ones who deserved the Oscars were the young Jamal and his Musketeers.(Ayush, Tanay, Azhar, Ashutosh, Rubina, Tanvi) Natural, uninhibited yet controlled and expressive---they created the best ethos of the film. Danny Boyle's success lay in these sections where his sensitivity took the upper hand. Unfortunately, his vision of creating a spoof of the Mumbai-as perceived-by West, took over and it was downhill the rest of the time.

The Editing was fast and frenetic, as if the Director was breathing down his neck and mumbling--"Go, Go GO... Otherwise the film is a goner!!!!"

Resul Pookutty (Sound mixer)and Glenn Fremantle. the Sound designer did a great job, blending street noises, dialogues and distance dialogues splendidly.

Finally, there is the traditional happy ending and dance in the Mumbai station and the distribution of invisible "Feel Good" lollipops all around.They call it the "Feel Good Movie of the Decade". I did not. I was feeling lousy because I was calculating how many great films could have been made with this money.

This film swept the BAFTAS?? It seems that recession has set in very severely on the Brits, so much so that it has destroyed their only redeeming feature--a sense of balance.

This film winning the Oscar? What a sacrilege!!! Rudderless, divorced most of the time from reality, predictable ,and messageless-- it evaporates like spirit exposed to air, quickly and without a residue.....

SlumDog Jai Ho.mp3

Sid--Fundamental 2

Afternoon saw the performances by the staff, prizes to SUPERB for each year, a refreshingly different 3rd year fairy story, a freewheeling 4th year on a farewell jig and a final medley by EVERYONE.

There was  the traditional changing of the guards, as the present core team handed over their badges to the new members.

Then in a fit of spontaneity, everyone got up on stage and twirled away!!!!

In between, there were the dance performances....

Under the evening stars, it was time for Swaratma. A Bangalore based band, its forte was Indian rock, where they delightfully blended violin and a dholak with traditional guitars and drums with raw and earthy Hindi/ deshwali lyrics. After a long tuning in process, they had everyone up on their feet in the amphitheatre.Their hit songs--Jaana kahan hai mujhe " and "Pyaasi" had the crowd joining in. Their strains lasted well after their performance was over.

All in all my hours flew by, like moving images through a car window.I realised how diffidence had hounded us, shyness had strung cobwebs between our fingers, and hesitation had let golden dreams go by like a silent breeze. Young people now are more open, frank, honest and confident. There is a rhythm in their steps, a firmness in their beliefs. Gibran was so right. They come from you ---but they are not you...

That is the way it is.......That is the way it should be......

Listen to this unusual Korean band whose music is unique, not of any genre, yet of every type--this is called Flower Children...

Flower Children.mp...

Fundamental 2009

It has been decades since I  attended a college festival.When we started AESCULAPIA at Medical College Kolkata in 1976, there were only a few such festivals around. Occasionally, I could see milling crowds of youngsters, sounds of music, banners, posters around the colleges. Sometimes, I even judged a few events. So, it was a new experience for me when I arrived in Pune for the last two days as a pure and simple viewer.

I had seen the wonderful website, and the opening animation bowled me over. I was really eager to see how the elephant would roll!!!

And it did, creating drama, passion, tension, smiles, whoops and laughter...

I missed the dance competition, but spent time looking at the exhibits. For a layperson, it was a wonderful lesson. The methodology of creation was new to me. Scientific creation, I could comprehend. There are laws and interpretation, experiments and derivatives, rules and exceptions.But that was in the laboratory, mathematical and engineering formulae,physiology and anatomy and pathology. We have dissected the brain, and the nerves and the interconnections---but I have never seen how one can derive science from vision and colour and placement and proportion. It should have been the other way around. Instead, ideas and concepts and thoughts have been transcreated into a viable scientific formula.

I wandered out into the amphitheatre where the western music bands were vying for a prize. There was some splendid music, a bit staccato in parts, but a lot of skill and talent.

There was the occasional splendid guitar riffs, a memorable vocalist, classical drumming and an atmosphere made memorable by the rotating ,floating Fundamental logo on the brick walls of the buildings, under a moonlit sky ...

Next day, I attended the official ceremony in the auditorium, where Padmashri Sri S.B. Mujumdar after inauguratingthe proceedings, announced that SID had achieved the highest NAAC grade i.e. A. (NAAC has under its new criteria come up with CGPA score for institutions. )

Cumulative Letter Performance
Grade Point Grade Descriptor Interpretation of the Descriptor
Average(Range)
3.01 - 4.00 A Very Good High level of academic accomplishment
(Accredited) as expected of an institution
2.01 - 3.00 B Good Level of academic accomplishment above
(Accredited) the minimum level expected of an
institution
1.51 - 2.00 C Satisfactory Minimum level of academic
(Accredited) accomplishment expected of an
institution
< 1.50 D Unsatisfactory Level of academic accomplishment
(Not below the minimum level expected of an
Accredited) institution.
Note:
1. To declare an institution accredited as “Very Good”, the
institution should have a minimum CGPA of 3.01, and fall
in the CGPA range of 3.01-4.00;
2. To declare an institution accredited as “Good”, the institution
should have a minimum CGPA of 2.01, and fall in the CGPA
range of 2.01-3.00;
3. To declare an institution accredited as “Satisfactory”, the
institution should have a minimum CGPA of 1.51 and fall in
the CGPA range of 1.51-2.00;
4. Any institution that secures a CGPA of < 1.50 shall not be
accredited .

Following this there was a classical ,brief(COMPRESSED!!!) classical dance recital of the traditional Shakuntala story, set interestingly to western classical music.

This was followed by the Prize distribution ceremony, in which SID bagged most of the prizes.

All of this was made possible by the core team --and congratulations to them.

Tomorrow ,I will post more about the rest of the events and some exciting videos....

 

The Semmelweis Reflex

Most of us have either experienced or faced this reflex.

Ignaz  Semmelweis was an Austrian obstetrician, who in his role of obstetrician's assistant in Vienna General Hospital in 1838 discovered that the washing of hands before obstetrical examination could reduce the incidence of the deadly Puerperal fever. However this was in contradiction to the prevailing thinking of the cause of diseases which postulated that disease occurred due to bad blood or bad air or bad bowels!!!!

His findings were rejected and he was denied a deserved post in the hospital. Rebuffed , he moved to Budapest where after a long struggle, he attained a post of Professor of Obstetrics. However, his practice and findings continued to be ridiculed and rejected in Europe . Frustrated. he became obsessed with his theory, denouncing all and sundry who criticized him, by writing open letters and giving strident lectures.

He started losing his memory, behaved erratically, and  became a misfit in normal society. He was finally put in an asylum, severely beaten up by the guards, developed internal injuries and gangrene and died at the age of 49.

20 years later, Louis Pasteur proposed his "germ" theory of disease which conclusively proved that Semmelweis was right and well before his time.

Finally Society woke up to his worth. A modern health university was named after him,  and a 50 $ Austrian coin and stamp covers  was brought out in 2008 by the government.

 

But his reflex lives on as an initial outright rejection of any new ideas and practices which challenges the entrenched present thinking and actions.

How many times have we as parents labelled our children's work as childish and their questions undeserving of an answer?

How many times have we rejected suggestions for streamlining professional work because we were unwilling to change our current interpretations and actions?

How many times have we refused to even listen to the words and suggestions of people living in a different social strata, because we were always sure that we knew best.....

Hillary Clinton

Semmelweis  reflex is all over, in all fields. To counter it, we have to, like President Obama, change in all our spheres.....

Till that day some ideas which may have changed the world we live in, will be cruelly decimated  at the wayside. All of us have to ensure that these numbers get smaller and smaller.......

As usual, Anjan says it all!!!!

Chawlo Bodlai.mp3

 

Puri 3--On to Konarak

We visited the temple of Lord Jagannath the next day with a lot of expectation and a feeling of tranquillity. That was rudely shattered by the Pandas at the temple premises. Most of them are actually con artistes masquerading as religious assistants. With glib talk, force, persuasion often reaching imposition, and promises of bad luck to gullible ladies, specially the uneducated--they fleece money like any local goonda or thug. Their sole aim is to get money for themselves. I saw no signs of prayer or meditation--only a mad rush to thrust some flowers or trinkets(supposedly holy) into unsuspecting hands, and then demand and grab money in the name of the gods.

Hindu religion in these places leave nothing for the original concepts of prayers, introspection, meditation and faith--and it is slowly sinking under the trappings of rituals ,mindless utterances of mantras, and the highhandedness of some priests who are forming a mafia inside these holy places of prayer and devotion. I am a Hindu, and am pained by the desecration of this magnificent , erudite and tolerant religion by some who practise it inside the temples. We did ultimately get a person who managed to impart the true meaning of the prayers and its necessity and restored peace and contentment to our ruffled minds--but he was hopelessly outnumbered by his opposite counterparts. But then, I suppose all religions face this problem.

Having paid more than Rs 1000 for bhog cooked by priests who hold their breaths  while cooking and where everything is hand made, we made our way back to the hotel.

The next day we went to Konarak via the Chakratirtha road and the National Highway 260. It was a marvellous drive beside the sea coast and a wildlife sanctuary.

 

The road wound this way and that, and there were surprises at almost every bend. We stopped a while 3 kms ahead of Konarak and made our way through some Akanda plants--and then on topping a crest we saw a deserted , almost virgin beach stretching away for miles.... Naturally it is a coveted place for picnickers, couples and the indefatigable fishermen.

We entered the premises of the Sun Temple and found it in semi-ruins thanks to the environmental assault and the periodic cyclones and floods. Though a massive restoration project is on, the originals are damaged. Yet in areas the completed figures still represent the prowesses of the courtesans, as well as paying homage to the Sun God. The chariot wheels are still intact and the lion crouching on top of the elephant still reminds us of the King Narasimharaja who had the vision to build this unique edifice.

Works of architecture, religion, philosophy, science, and art in its various forms are strewn throughout my country in all corners and from all ages---- and I am so glad that I was born an Indian and I stay in India.

Puri 2

Next morning, Pluto and I went for a walk. At 6 am in the morning, there was quite a crowd on the beach, all of them in a mistaken hope that the early morning breeze would clean out their pollution laded lungs. As usual, overcome by the surroundings, most of the pot bellied Bengalis and Marwaris did a few hop,skip and jumps also. Pluto looked up astonished, pausing in his permanent pursuit of interesting smells. A watery sun, previously obscured by the morning haze , suddenly spread a swathe of golden ripples across the sea, enough to cause a local fishseller to look up away from her customers, and the religious minded to dip their feet in the cold foam of the incessant waves and fold their hands in silent prayers.

We all then decided to explore the Mohana, where the tributaries flow into the sea. This part of the beach is quite deserted except for the fishermen. One end of their long blue nets are taken far out to sea by the boats, while the other end stays on the land. This net is slowly then dragged in and the fishes are beaten into the net by the men who thrash the water and shout and splash vigorously. It's hard backbreaking effort and requires coordinated strength.

The fishermen start working from sunrise and continue till sundown, day after day, bringing their lunchboxes to the beach every day.....

Meanwhile the tourists are warming up, as the new rides and riders get ready....

Large crowds gather to see the catches which are increasing hour by hour.

Mainly mackerel, sardines, pomfrets, bholabhetki are caught and specially sold at Rs. 20--Rs 50/Kg.

Our appetites are whetted!!!!!

In the next post ,I will detail our Konarak excusion.