Love or Something Like It

ROMANTIC COMEDIES ARE infectious. They get to you, stay there and turn you into an addict. It has happened with me. And now I’ve been turned into a RCA (Rom-Com Addict, silly). Most people, however, have a disregard for the rom-com genre. It’s shallow, unrealistic, pretentious and celebrates an ‘oh-so-perfect’ notion of life and love, they argue (as if I care!). Given a choice, I would any day prefer a rom-com than sit through some high brow art house stuff and pretend to ‘love’ the movie in the end. Rom-coms are girly stuff. Boys love action and sci-fi flicks, some of my friends believe. But would they have said such a thing had they watched Pretty Woman or When Harry Met Sally, I wonder.

Of the innumerable rom-coms that I’ve watched, here’s a list of half a dozen of them. These lesser-known films figure nowhere in the ‘10 best romantic comedies of all time’ or ‘20 rom-coms to watch before you die’ lists. They aren’t box office bumpers nor are critically acclaimed. But then as Sajid Khan says ‘damn the critics’, I extend my unflinching loyalty towards these superb six. I would love to watch them over and over again.

Love Actually (Dir: Richard Curtis)

‘I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, Love is all around me, and so the feeling grows’ — these opening lines of The Troggs’ classic hit quite sum up the mood and spirit of this uplifting love story. Set in London five weeks before Christmas, the spot on directorial debut of Curtis (he’s penned some of the most endearing romantic comedies — Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones’s Diary) follows the interrelated stories of a dozen or so individuals as they embark on the journey called love. Billy Mack, Joe, David, Natalie, Juliet, Peter, Mark, Jamie, Aurélia, Harry, Karen, Sam, Joanna, Sarah, Karl, John, Judy — the way they fall in and out of love, sometimes with the right person, sometimes with the wrong one, makes this ‘love British style’ rom-com irresistibly enchanting. Curtis’s deft screenplay laced with humour, wit, warmth, romance and most importantly a pitch-perfect ensemble cast (Rowan ‘Mr. Bean’ Atkinson in his miniscule role gives a glimpse about the acting prowess of the other major players) will ‘actually’ make you fall in love with the film. So much so that you might end up having a ‘sneaky feeling’ that love actually is all around!

Runaway Bride (Dir: Garry Marshall)

A wedding-phobic small-town girl who has a habit of leaving her grooms-to-be at the altar, a fired-from-job big-city journalist who after writing an offensive column about her now seeks ‘vindication’ and the quaint little town of Hale, Maryland — that’s what Runaway Bride is all about, and much more. On first viewing, the bride-on-the-run couldn’t steal my heart the way a certain Pretty Woman did years ago. Even the Marshall-Roberts-Gere troika didn’t seem to work too well. But then love doesn’t always happen at first sight, isn’t it? The enticing storyline, the Julia-Richard star romance, a first rate supporting cast, the small-town atmosphere, tongue-in-cheek humour, witty one liners — all these make Runaway Bride an amusing tale of love and fun. Wow moment: when Julia ‘Maggie’ Roberts, while proposing to Richard ‘Ike’ Gere, gets down on her knees and says some of the most romantic lines I’ve ever heard, “I guarantee that we’ll have tough times. And I guarantee that at some point one or both of us will want to get out. But I also guarantee that if I don’t ask you to be mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart, you’re the only one for me.”

A Lot Like Love (Dir: Nigel Cole)

Ashton Kutcher is no Billy Crystal. Amanda Peet isn’t Meg Ryan either. Nor is A Lot Like Love anywhere close to the cult classic When Harry Met Sally. But there’s something captivating about this rom-com that keeps me glued to the TV screen whenever it’s shown on Zee Studio (and that’s quite often). Two ‘poles apart’ individuals — Oliver and Emily — keep on coming together and drifting away over the course of seven years as their relationship evolves from lust to friendship to love, until they finally realise that they are, indeed, made for each other. Ashton Kutcher is dumb as ever (he’s the perfect choice for such dumbass roles these days, since he doesn’t need to act). But it is Amanda Peet who overshadowed Kutcher all the way and even made his histrionics look lovable. She exudes such a rare charm every time she comes on screen that you can’t help but get smitten by her. Thanks to a witty script, refreshing direction and Amanda-magic, the film stops short of degenerating into a run-of-the-mill bland love story.

10 Items or Less (Dir: Brad Silberling)

This small independent film defies rom-com rules in many ways. It doesn’t preach ‘happily ever after’ nor does it have the saccharine sweetness and melodrama of love stories that at times make you feel diabetic. The lead players (Morgan Freeman and Paz Vega) are far from being conventional ‘teen heart-throb’ romantic leads, and the film doesn’t boast of magnificent locations or Hollywood glitz. 10 Items or Less isn’t a love story per se. There’s no hint of a traditional romantic affair between Freeman and Vega. But there are strong undercurrents of love, longing, friendship and passion running throughout. A movie star (Freeman), while researching for the role of a supermarket manager arrives at a small supermarket in a poor Latin neighbourhood. There he befriends the store cashier (Vega) and the initially mismatched pair ends up driving around Los Angeles. As the conversations open up, they begin to share and explore each other’s worlds. The refreshing narrative, witty humour, crackling chemistry between the leads (Vega’s Spanglish gives a déjà vu of Penélope Cruz) and smart direction make this film a rare cinematic experience.

Wimbledon (Dir: Richard Loncraine)

The critics called Wimbledon a ‘crowd-pleaser.’ Surely, it isn’t helluva great film. But what matters most is that the film has its heart at the right place. Its warmth, intimacy and good-heartedness strikes a chord with the viewers and you can’t help but like this mint-fresh sports rom-com. Washed-out tennis player Peter (Paul Bettany) whose rank has dropped to 119th in the world gets a wild card entry to his final Wimbledon tournament. There he falls for young, hot-shot American tennis pro Lizzie (Kirsten Dunst). As love grows between the two, Peter gets the inspiration and reason to win. But as Lizzie has given a new lease of life to Peter’s dying tennis career, he too must see her continue to win. Wimbledon has the charm, subtlety, wit and good humour of British rom-coms that rejuvenates the otherwise predictable storyline. Bettany’s good looks and ‘offbeat charm’ is a welcome departure from his negative acts (à la The Da Vinci Code) and establishes him as a lovable lead actor. Dunst is sparkling and makes the tennis matches all the more watchable.

Elizabethtown (Dir: Cameron Crowe)

Did Imtiaz Ali watch Elizabethtown while scripting Jab We Met? The similarities between the two movies can't be ignored. Shoe designer Drew (Orlando Bloom), fired from his job and dumped by his girlfriend, decides to commit suicide, when he is interrupted by a phone call informing him of the death of his father. So he postpones his suicide plan and leaves for Elizabethtown to bring back his father’s body. On the flight he meets a talkative, warm hearted flight attendant Claire (Kirsten Dunst) who changes his perspective of life, relationships and love (ring any bells?) and helps him discover the possibilities of his own destiny. Now a completely transformed person, Drew embarks on a journey in search of the girl who had brought his life back on track. Bloom gives an amazingly restrained performance, balancing between pensiveness and his desire to let go. Dunst is the ‘zing’ factor. She brightens up the screen every time she comes in and the magic lingers even after she’s off the screen. The road trip that Bloom sets out in the end elevates this bittersweet romantic comedy-cum-celebration of life-cum-road movie into something more poignant. And we realize, as the makers say, the best things in life happen when you least expect them.

A Horrifying Resolution

THIS NEW YEAR I made a resolution. It wasn’t any of those just-like-that promises I make in January every year, invariably botching them up by the end of the month. No ‘will exercise regularly’, ‘will stop eating carbs’, ‘will read more books and watch less porn’ vows this year, I thought. It was time to do something hatke.

I’ll watch a lot of horror films, I pledged (I can see that smirk on your face, but I’d rather ignore it) after much musing. For a movie buff like me this was a resolution I’d love to abide by throughout the year. And what proved to be the icing on the cake was the phrase ‘horror films’. Watching horror flicks in a dark empty room, getting goose bumps even at the slightest squeak of the door — voilà!

So I watched. Films after films — ranging from terrific to terrible. Some scared the hell out of me, others way too bland. Of them, here’s a quick look at the frightening five.

The Orphanage (Dir: Juan Antonio Bayona / Spanish)

Guillermo Del Toro opened the peephole, but it was Bayona who sucked me into the world of Spanish horror cinema, thanks to his spine-chilling horror thriller. The story revolves around Laura (Belén Rueda) who returns to her childhood home — an orphanage — with the plan of renovating the now-dilapidated house into a home for disabled children. But reaching there her son Simón starts making imaginary friends. Things turn worse when Simón mysteriously disappears one day. Determined to bring her son back, Laura now enters her son’s eerie world, unravelling haunting secrets of the past. No ghastly monsters, no digital tricks, the film convincingly creates a sinister atmosphere without descending to cheap horror. Watch out for the pre-climax scene where Laura initiates a game she used to play in her childhood in order to contact the ghost children. It’s bloody scary! The Orphanage is what a critic has rightly said, ‘a movie about children made very much for adults.’

The Others (Dir: Alejandro Amenábar / English)

A horror masterpiece, The Others treads a rather difficult path between supernatural and psychological. Living in a darkened old country mansion with her two photosensitive children, Grace (Nicole Kidman) waits for her husband to return from war. Everything seems peaceful, until she hires three mysterious servants at the house. Soon strange events start occurring and Grace becomes convinced that her home is haunted. Grace begins to wonder if there’s something much more in the house that’s beyond the realm of human understanding. Relying entirely on psychological horror, the film gets creepier as it goes along and finally comes to what I call ‘the baap of twist-ending’ climax. It completely takes you by surprise, making you question who to believe and who to fear. Kudos to Amenábar for dissolving the boundaries between real and surreal.

A Tale of Two Sisters (Dir: Kim Ji-woon / Korean)

Asian horror films have a distinct charm of their own, often more horrifying than their western counterparts. From the very first frame they create a sense of dread and slowly build up tension, thereby luring the viewer into their dark and gruesome world. There’s always the fear of evil lurking behind, making its ‘presence’ felt even in the movement of the curtains, which is psychologically more disturbing, sinister and hair-raising than the western zombies and monsters. A Tale of Two Sisters is one such gem. Su-Mi, getting released from a mental institution, returns home with her timid sister Su-Yeong to stay with their emotionally-absent father and cruel stepmother. But once there, terrifying events start happening in the house. The plot is a complex one, but doesn’t get tedious even once, thanks to the taut screenplay. The riveting climax where the actual ‘monster’ is revealed comes across as a jolt, making you gasp for breath.

Audition (Dir: Takashi Miike / Japanese)

What if your dream date turns out to be your worst nightmare? Watch Audition and I bet you’ll give up dating altogether! Lonely widower Aoyama, encouraged by his son and a producer-friend, decides to hold a fake audition for a non-existent film in order to find himself a bride. He becomes fascinated by a sweet, charming young woman Asami who seems to be the perfect choice. But as Aoyama delves deeper into Asami’s world, we discover that there’s just something not right about his ‘dream girl’. Notorious for his depictions of graphic violence, Miike starts building up the tension right from the beginning, culminating in a blood-curdling finale that’s one of the scariest climaxes I’ve ever seen. He successfully shatters the stereotypical notion that horror films must contain supernatural elements. Like many other Asian Horrors, this one too explores the psychological facet of horror. A warning for those who haven’t watched Audition yet: if you are a faint-hearted, watch the film at your own risk. You’re sure to get goose bumps when you hear Asami saying, ‘Kiri, kiri, kiri, kiri, kiri...’

Dark Water (Dir: Walter Salles / English)

I was disappointed with Dark Water initially. The film, almost devoid of any ‘close-your-eyes-in-fear-and-scream’ moment, scored pretty low on my scare-meter. It just wasn’t that spooky. But on second thoughts I realised Dark Water goes much beyond than just a ‘horror film’ in the traditional sense of the term. It’s actually more of a drama set in a haunted house. Salles stresses as much on the fear, anguish and paranoia of the characters as he does on the horror quotient. Separated from her husband, Dahlia (Jennifer Connelly) move into a rundown apartment with her daughter Cecilia. Soon after, mysterious occurrences start taking place. There’s a constant drip of dark water from the ceiling of her daughter’s bedroom. There are noises coming from the apartment above hers, although it appears to be vacant. Cecilia makes an imaginary friend called Natasha. As Dahlia decides to investigate further dark secrets from the past are unravelled. Laced with brilliant performance by Connelly, the film turns out to be — as critics say — a ghost story with an emotionally haunting echo.

Waking Up from a 3-hour Sleep

IT SEEMED LIKE an eternity since I had entered the multiplex. Three hours into the film and my senses were almost numb. Suddenly a man snoozing beside me woke up. ‘The movie isn’t over yet? My God, I’ve been sleeping here for the past 3 hours and it’s still continuing! Aar para jachche na!’ said the man to his wife. The frustration in his voice touched my heart. After all, I too shared the same feeling! On my way back home I kept on thinking who my worst enemy is, so that I can avenge myself on him by sending him a free ticket for WHAT'S YOUR RAASHEE?

Surprised? Don’t be. I’m a big fan of Ashutosh Gowariker gharana of filmmaking. But unlike his previous ventures What’s Your Raashee? falls flat on its face. A new player in the genre, Gowariker tried to make a breezy rom-com, but the film turned out to be neither rom nor com.

Harman Baweja trying to find the ‘perfect bride’ from each of the 12 sun signs within 10 days made an interesting premise. Priyanka Chopra in 12 different avatars added to the interest. But Gowariker the writer fails miserably to captivate the viewers. The stories involving each of the girls get monotonous, tiresome and way too long. A majority of the 12 Priyanka Chopras turn out to be clichéd and sketchy. In giving too much importance to the initial girls, the latter ones are reduced to ‘blink-and-you-miss’ mannequins. There are too many loopholes in the screenplay to ignore. The climax is unconvincing and filmy. Even the funny one-liners look forced upon, and the romance is nowhere to be seen.

However, the villain of the piece emerges to be the editor — Ballu Saluja. I don’t have any problem with a 3.5 hour long film, provided the story is an absorbing one (sample: Jodhaa Akbar). But since that’s not the case with What’s Your Raashee?, the length of the film should have been trimmed down. Gowariker needs a new editor, immediately!

The saving grace in this bore-drama is Priyanka Chopra. The way she enacts the 12 girls is pure magic. I particularly liked the intense Cancerian, the downmarket and heavily Gujju-accented Aries, the bossy Libra, the Swades-hangover Virgo doctor and the innocent little Capricorn girl. Harman Baweja looks nice and acts well, but he couldn’t add any zing to Yogesh Patel. Unlike what many have said, I quite liked Sohail Sen’s music (of course, you can’t expect a Lagaan or Jodhaa Akbar from Sen). Jao na, Bikhri bikhri, Su chhe, Koi jaane na, Chehre jo dekhe hain — some of the songs stay with you even after you have left the theatre.

From a master storyteller like Gowariker I expected something more than this staid contemporary love story. Perhaps the man should better stick to his forte — Mughal family dramas. Experiments are not meant for everyone.

A few days after the What’s Your Raashee?-debacle, I went back to the same plex for yet another rom-com, Ayan Mukerji’s WAKE UP SID. Not another bore-flick, I prayed as I entered the theatre apprehensively. But boy, I got more than I asked for! No OTT Karan Johar melodrama (there were high chances of it since KJo is the producer of the film), no preachy messages — Wake Up Sid is a beautiful love story woven into refreshing coming-of-age tale.

The film is all about Sid, a lazy unmotivated slacker from Mumbai whose carefree world undergoes a series of changes after Aisha walks into his life. She acts as a catalyst in transforming Sid from an irresponsible boy to a responsible man. Coupled with this is a mint-fresh love story between two very different individuals which touches your heart deep within.

But then you might ask, what’s so new about it? Okay, I agree the story is predictable. Right from the beginning you know that Sid will, by the end, wake up to his responsibilities and he and Aisha will live happily ever after. But the difference lies in Ayan’s smart screenplay. The characters appear so realistic and endearing. Midway through the film my friend exclaimed, ‘Sid in the first half resembles me! It’s actually my life story dude!’ That’s exactly where the film succeeds. We can relate to it. There’s a Sid in all of us. We’ve all been in that phase where life is floating by and we are aimless. Kudos to Ayan for gifting us a slice of our own life.

The director once said that he’s a great fan of Farhan Akhtar. True, Wake Up Sid has moments that are inspired from Akhtar’s Dil Chahta Hain and Lakshya. But nevertheless, the film’s earthly flavour and its close-to-life essence make Wake Up Sid an engaging watch.

The lead players, Ranbir Kapoor and Konkona Sensharma, give stellar performances. Every time they come together they exude infectious warmth that gets on you, and you keep on longing for more of Sid and Aisha. It’s the duo’s chemistry that’s a high point of Wake Up Sid. I wonder, how Konkona manage to look so good with all her leading men (of all age groups), be it Rahul, Kunal, Irrfan or Ranbir! But there’s one thing that irked me. Aisha is born and brought up in Kolkata, why then she reads Tagore in English and talks to her mother in accented Bengali?

Shankar, Ehsaan and Loy try hard to give a lilting score and they manage to do it as well, but it’s Amit Trivedi’s soulful Iktara that steals the show all along. What the trio couldn’t achieve with almost half a dozen songs, Trivedi did just that with a single blow. Thanks to Javed Akhtar for penning such wonderful lyrics, although he sounded a bit Gulzar-ish in the song!

Even if Wake Up Sid was a crap film, I would have loved to watch it again and again. Not because of Ranbir-Koko, but because it uses something to unite the lovers that’s closest to my heart — monsoon.

Chestnutted Love for the ‘Mango People’

I KNOW I’LL be damned forever for saying this, but Imtiaz Ali has lost his magic wand. However blasphemous it may sound like, Love Aaj Kal appeared to me as a soulless film. What was touted as the year’s best romantic comedy fell quite short of my expectations.

But wait! Aren’t we talking about a romantic film here? A soulless love story... does that make any sense? No, it doesn’t. And that’s precisely the irony with Love Aaj Kal. It has all the ingredients of a good romantic film, but it fails miserably in satisfying the most important criterion. Love Aaj Kal doesn’t make you fall hopelessly in love with it. Jab We Met did. Socha Na Tha did it too. So then what went wrong with Love Aaj Kal?

Imtiaz Ali is one of my favourite directors. He’s the man who redefined ‘love’ on Indian screen, stripping it of all the filminess we have endured over the years. Ali makes all his love stories look so believable — the plot, the situation, the characters, the way they behave, talk, react, fall in or fall out of love. Add to it a pinch of innocence and you can’t help but fall head over heels in love with them — be it Viren, Aditi, Aditya or Geet.

This confused me even more. Love Aaj Kal isn’t a crap film. Its Ali’s most ambitious and complex take on love till date, spanning two generations and three continents. But still there’s something that’s missing in the film. What is it? I don’t know. It may be the merging of the two love stories that was jarring at times. It may also be the post-interval portions that slipped into high-voltage melodrama, spoiling all the freshness Ali had built up so long. Or may be its the OTT depiction of Veer Singh's ‘pure love’ versus Jai's ‘practical love’ that was too preachy to handle.

Or is it Aditya and Geet whom I missed so badly that I tried in vain to find them in Jai and Meera in every frame of the movie?

I usually refrain from comparing one film with another. Every film is distinct in itself and there’s no point in making ‘oh-I-wish-Ghajini-was-as-good-as-Taare Zameen Par!’-type comments. But then when you have set a benchmark for yourself, you cannot afford to slump down! Imtiaz Ali did just that. He tried to make a smart, cool, fast-paced rom-com and so like all typical Hollywood rom-coms, Love Aaj Kal too boasts of some really witty one-liners, glossy shots, rich sets, loveable music and fine acting by its lead players. But somewhere in its swanky smartness it lost its innocence... its soul. Unlike Ali’s previous two films, Love Aaj Kal is more brain, less heart. Everything in the film looked too forced upon, the natural feeling of Jab We Met was surprisingly absent. You feel happy to see Jai and Meera getting reunited in the end, but forget it as soon as you step out of the theatre. They don’t linger in your memory like Aditya-Geet or Viren-Aditi.

Deepika was a revelation. With her vivacity, elegance and a smile that’s highly infectious, she was the perfect choice for Meera. However I missed Aditya. Saif tried too hard to bring back the Karan-effect of Hum Tum, but the déjà vu was too strong to ignore. Besides he looked pretty old as compared to Deepika (sorry, I couldn’t find any sugar-coated word). Giselle was stunning until she spoke (thankfully Ali had given her a handful of lines to deliver). Rishi and Neetu Kapoor were sweet as ever.

Imtiaz Ali once said that when he looks back today he finds a lot of loopholes in Jab We Met. He simply went with the flow while writing the script. I wish he had done just the same this time too. Some love stories aren’t meant to be logical.

Rediscovering My Lost Self

A FEW DAYS back I bought the DVD of Delhi-6. As most of my friends had already seen the movie I thought they would urge me to watch it asap. Surprisingly, most of them rebuked me for buying the DVD, calling the film as ‘utter disappointment’!

(If you are wondering why I’m writing a post on Delhi-6 four months after the film has released, well, my hectic schedule didn’t allow me the catch the film at the theatres. So I had to wait for the DVD release.)

However, after watching the film, I can’t help but contradict. I’m not a film critic. Nor do I understand the nitty-gritty of filmmaking. As a movie buff I can only differentiate between outstanding and appalling films. And that’s exactly why I wonder how my friends could discard a cinematic treat like Delhi-6!
Zarre zarre mein usika noor hain, jhank khud mein woh na tujhse door hain, ishq hain usse toh sabse ishq kar, is ibadat ka yehi dastoor hain... As the screen opened to a shot of Delhi skyline with these mellifluous words flowing in, I knew I didn’t make any mistake. A lot of people have said a lot of things about Delhi-6 — the film is too preachy, the story moves at a snail’s pace, the climax is frustrating, enough justice hasn’t been done to the characters, the kala bandar episode is too clichéd... blah, blah, blah. My request to all of them: please watch the film once again. Not through your eyes, but your heart. Feel. Don’t expect another Rang De Basanti, you’ll be disappointed. Go in with an open mind, you’ll come out a lot more enriched.

Honestly, Delhi-6 is one of the most thought-provoking films I’ve watched in a long time. Very rarely comes a film that’s so subtly metaphorical, and every frame of Delhi-6 is a proof to that, right from the kala bandar to Masakali. The way kala bandar has been translated into a representation of the inner demons within us or the interspersing of events of Ramayana in the story through the Ramleela play... man, a lot of thought must have gone in writing the screenplay! Remember the sequence when seeing his son lying unconscious on the floor, a brick from Jaigopal’s hand falls down on his father’s old transistor and suddenly the defunct transistor starts playing the song, Sajan re jhooth mat bolo...? Or the scene where Roshan, beaten up by everyone, lies on the street when his cellphone falls out and in the background starts the song, Darare darare hain maathe pe maula.... Or even the burning of the kala bandar mask with the Ravana effigy at the end. How ironically poetic! Kudos to Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra for coming up with such an awe-inspiring script.

Yeh shehar nahin, mehfil hain... that’s Delhi. Basti hain mastanon ki... galli hain deewanon ki... that’s Delhi. Despite the dingy lanes, shabby buildings, maddening crowd, hustle-bustle, chaos, there is something endearing about Purani Dilli that makes you fall in love with it, à la Roshan. It’s not ‘love at first sight’. It evolves with time, until one day you suddenly realize the place means a lot more to you than just being a postal code: Delhi-110006. And that’s exactly what the film conveys. Thanks to Mehra's deft craftsmanship, Delhi is never relegated to a mere prop in the film. On the contrary, it is the protagonist. All the other characters — be it Roshan, Bittu, Dadi, Madangopal, Jaigopal, Vimla, Rama Bua, Ali Baig, Mamdu, Gobar, Jalebi, Suresh, Ranvijay or Lala Bhairam — are the various facets of the city, personifying it’s countless emotions. Everyone has a story to tell, and all their stories run parallel to each other, strung together by a common thread — kala bandar.

The film is a visual treat for Delhites. Boy, the way Mehra and Binod Pradhan (DOP) have shown Delhi deserves a standing ovation! They have amazingly captured the true essence of the city. Mehra once said that Delhi-6 is his tribute to the place he spent his growing up years in. If that’s true, then this is probably the best gift Delhi could ever get from Bollywood, and I regret why Mehra didn’t spent his childhood in Kolkata!
A R Rahman has done it, once again. The music of Delhi-6 is undoubtedly one of his finest works, miles better than the overrated Slumdog Millionaire. There actually lies the magic of Rahman’s music. He creates new benchmarks with every new song he composes. Just when one would wonder how high Rahman can raise the bar, the man raises the bar even higher! Talking about the cast, everyone — Waheeda Rahman, Rishi Kapoor, Om Puri, Pavan Malhotra, Supriya Pathak, Divya Dutta, Atul Kulkarni, Deepak Dobriyal, Vijay Raaz, Aditi Rao Hydari — did a fabulous job. But it was Abhishek Bachchan and Sonam Kapoor who stole the show. The duo was simply outstanding! It’s not easy for an Indian actor to maintain a consistent American accent throughout the film, but Abhishek did it with élan. Sonam as Bittu was a revelation. It seems the roles were tailor-made for both of them.

The picturization of Dil gira dafatan was innovative. It’s wonderful to find a slice of Delhi on the streets of New York! The Rehna tu track was a pleasant surprise. What appeared as a run-of-the-mill romantic track actually turned out to be a beautiful dedication to Delhi (and you thought it was a love song featuring Abhishek-Sonam! Silly!). However, the ‘wow’ moment of the film is the Masakali song. Just before the intro music stops and Mohit Chauhan starts crooning, there’s a shot of the pigeon Masakali taking a stroll on the fountain, and as it flutters its wings a few drops of water falls around. Boy, what a matka! That too with so much poise and attitude! Wow!

Does that mean Delhi-6 is flawless? Certainly not. But the heart of the film is so much in the right place that you don’t take the flaws to heart. Delhi-6 isn’t a Billu Barber or Kambakkht Ishq. It’s much more than mere entertainment. A soul-searching experience in the truest sense of the term. Watch Delhi-6. Rediscover yourself.

Golden Knight and a Severe Case of Myopia

WATCHING HINDI FILMS can be a gruelling exercise at times. Sitting through more than two hours of an out-an-out commercial Bollywood potboiler requires a great deal of patience, endurance, some strong headache pills and most importantly, a willing suspension of your disbelief!

However, having grown up watching loads of Hindi films (the good, bad and ugly); I thought I was naturally immune to the dizzying effect of Bollywood masala flicks.

I didn’t know I was wrong.

It happened just a few weeks back. I had got the DVD of Shahrukh Khan’s much-hyped recent offering: Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi. I knew it wasn’t an outstanding movie as the makers claimed it to be. Still expecting a decent watch, I thought of giving it a try. Little did I know that the consequences of my decision would turn out to be so fatal.

Fifteen minutes into the film and I started having those dizzy spells. I ignored. Another half an hour, and I was desperately looking for migraine pills! Nevertheless, I decided to watch the film till the end. By the time the torture... err... the film was over, I was almost in a state of coma! Losing control of my mind and senses, I vowed never to watch a film again without knowing about it in detail beforehand.

One of the major flaws of Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was that it lacked logic. Throughout the film I failed to understand how on earth a wife can be so dumb as to not recognize her husband if he shaves off his moustache, throws away his glasses and gets a new wardrobe! But then I suppose that's the disease which plagues almost every commercial Hindi film. We may have sensible films like Rang De Basanti, Taare Zameen Par, A Wednesday, Dev D, Firaaq, but for every Firaaq or Taare Zameen Par Bollywood churns out a dozen Singh is Kinng or Rab Ne Bana Di Jodis. Still we brag about the fact that Bollywood comes next only to Hollywood in terms of the number of films made every year (quantity is all that matters, quality can take a backseat) or even dare to think of sending these trashy masala flicks to the Oscars! So don’t be surprised if you find Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi being selected as India's official entry to the Oscars next year!

Sounds like a bad joke? Actually not. Remember Sooraj Barjatya’s emotional atyachar Hum Saath Saath Hain? Or Aditya Chopra’s three-hour-plus gurukul melodrama Mohabbatein? Both these films were considered by the Indian film selection committee as contenders for the Best Foreign Language film Oscar in 2000 (stop bulging your eyes, silly!). After much deliberation, Kamal Haasan’s Hey Ram got the ‘honour’. The film failed to make it even to the nomination stage. However, it would be wrong to say that the decision was a unanimous one. Some of the committee members preferred HSSH or Mohabbatein, since they felt these films represent Indian tradition and culture in a much better light! Think that’s ridiculous? Well, think again. I recently googled for the films that have, over the years, been sent to the Academy as India's official entries and what I found was mind-boggling. Saagar, Henna, Indian,... hold your breath... Jeans, Devdas, Paheli, Eklavya — all these films were selected as India's official contenders for the Oscar-race! Quite predictably (and thankfully), none of them could reach the Kodak Theatre.

India's tryst with the Oscars began in the 1950s. Since then we have managed to get nominated thrice — for Mother India (1956), Salaam Bombay! (1988) and Lagaan (2001) — without winning even once. Meanwhile nations like Japan, Hungary, and Netherlands have fetched 11, 8 and 7 nominations respectively. France has 34 nominations including 10 wins, while Italy has been nominated 27 times. Even a small nation like Bosnia-Herzegovina has managed to hit the bull's-eye (it clinched the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar for No Man's Land in 2001)! So why the world's most prolific film producing nation is virtually ignored at the world's most prestigious film awards?

The fault lies within us — let’s state that very clearly without scapegoating anyone. Today Hindi films may compete with Hollywood in terms of technical wizardry or financial opulence, but when it comes to content, we still lag miles behind. By and large, Bollywood has failed to produce films of international quality. Apart from a handful, most Hindi films are not at par with the international standard. Infantile concepts, done-to-death storylines, stereotypical characters, shoddy treatment, hackneyed song-and-dance sequences — problems with mainstream commercial Hindi films are countless. So every time we fail to achieve the golden statuette we invariably come up with the same apologetic words: ‘It’s after all an Indian film!’ That’s utter bullshit! Can’t we simply be honest in admitting our flaws, at least for once?

There’s fallacy in the selection procedure as well. With a panel consisting of mostly incompetent (and obscure) judges and their myopic attitude, it isn’t surprising that mediocrity — and not cinematic excellence — would get prominence in choosing films. As a result most of the films selected by the panel over the years have been unflinchingly clichéd and Bollywoodish. Their argument: we should send films that represent our culture to the Western audience, and who else can epitomize it better than Bollywood! It seems the judges have little or absolutely no idea of what might appeal to the international audience. The reality is: India’s song-and-dance narrative is largely seen as an exotic kitsch by the West. It might be three-hour-wholesome entertainment for us, but not a memorable cinematic experience. That’s why a Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi would have been a better choice than Paheli, because that's the kind of film Oscar judges and the viewers worldwide can better identify with.

However, for some strange reasons, mainstream Hindi films have always found patronage from the selection committee. Regional cinema and offbeat films still remain ugly ducklings and given the step-motherly treatment towards them, they will continue to remain so. I don’t intend to be parochial, but there is no reason to believe that Bengali, Marathi, Tamil, Malayalam or Kannada films are inferior to their Hindi counterpart. Regional cinema may not be as flourishing and pompous as Bollywood, still when it comes to craft, storytelling and treatment, they can be deserving competitors for the golden knight.

Unfortunately, that's a utopian dream! Indian cinema has gradually become synonymous with Bollywood, thanks to the judges' not-so-blissful ignorance. The consequence: whenever we think of sending a film to the Oscars, we can not look beyond the run-of-the-mill star-studded Bollywood stuff — this is what diagnose a perfect case of myopia. Those living on the fringes continues to be unrecognized, alien to the mainstream. Satyajit Ray, whom the Academy conferred with the Lifetime Achievement award, never managed to get a film-specific Oscar nomination, except for once (for Shatranj Ke Khiladi). His Pather Panchali won 11 international awards, but no Oscar. Jalsaghar, Gupi Gayne Bagha Bayne, Mahanagar, Seemabaddha, Devi, Charulata, Nayak, Agantuk — none of these films were considered by the committee as worthy enough for the Oscars (and Kurosawa said that not to have seen Ray’s cinema means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon!). Ritwik Ghatak, Mrinal Sen, Buddhadev Dasgupta, Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Girish Kasaravalli, G Aravindan, Shaji N Karun — we are well acquainted with their kind of cinema. Their films have won accolades and plaudits in numerous film festivals and award ceremonies all over the world. The critics too have raved about their work. But how many of their films have been selected for the Oscars? None (no prizes for guessing)! Ajantrik, Meghe Dhaka Tara, Bhuvan Shome, Akaler Sandhane, Tahader Katha, Swayamvaram, Mukha Mukham, Ghattashraddha, Tabarna Kathe, Piravi — the selectors have remained amnesiac to these highly-acclaimed films that have re-defined Indian cinema, making way for Saagar, Indian, Devdas or Eklavya to reign.

The dizzying spells are coming back.

Then comes politicking, an inescapable menace on the film selection board. Since the country’s various filmmaking centres are represented, everyone wants their kind of film to get selected. Naturally, lobbying and power politics become inevitable. The result is that the best film doesn’t always make it, rather the one with the most clout does (and you wondered why films like Henna, Jeans or Eklavya got selected in the past!).

It’s time we get a reality check (honourable selectors, wake up please!). Making our Bollywood superstars prance around trees lip-syncing some forgettable songs doesn’t guarantee an Oscar. The Academy recognizes cinematic fineness. It won’t award a film that doesn’t understand its craft. That’s precisely the reason why Indian films have never fitted the Oscar bill. The Oscars may not be the most authentic accolade in the world of cinema, nor are they benchmark for cinematic brilliance. But then one can not completely overlook their importance either. An Oscar-winning film garners a lot of respect and attraction from the audience worldwide. So the crying need of the hour is, effective reforms in the selection procedure for nominating India’s official entry. Unless our filmmakers take the selection process more seriously, India will continue its losing streak. And the golden knight, like Godot, will never come.

Image courtesy: Sourish Mitra