and i wonder

How many different words have been used by those that name all the strip malls that inundate the American geography? I've seen pointes, places, plazas, villages and squares. I'm sure there are more I don't remember and more I haven't seen.

We all remember Sssshhh... (aka S4H3), don't we? One wonders if his appropriation of Jigar Muradabadi's couplet sabhii a.ndaaz-e-husn pyaare / ham magar saadagii ke maare for the song sapane is the only example of the Bollywood lyrical machinery lifting from this poet.

How many people noticed that Anu Malik was lifting his own stuff when he did the title song for Main Hoon Na? Try dha.Dakataa hai dil from Baazi.

Was I the only one who thought of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy's be-imaan mohabbat from Ek Aur Ek Gyarah (one of those rewarding songs that seems devoid of any of the SEL trademarks that seem to pepper most of their work these days) when A. R. Rahman's aziim-o-shaan from Jodhaa Akbar started playing?

Didn't anybody notice how Pritam smartly took the a.ntaraa of aage bhii jaane na tuu from Waqt, sped it up, added his trademark wall of synthesised bricks and tossed it out as the a.ntaraa for the Usha Uthup song All Night Long in Dhol?

Did you know that If you navigated to the 00:13:38 mark in your copy of Emmanuelle in Space, you can hear the beat loop that underscores maa.Ngataa hai kyaa in Rangeela?

Did you spot Jatin-Lalit reusing the melody of the a.ntaraa of aa.Nkho.n me.n kyaa in 1996's Khamoshi: The Musical two years later for the second interlude of jab kisii kii taraf dil in Pyar To Hona Hi Tha?

Don't you think it's just a coincidence that an earnest riff played by the string section the second interlude in Anu Malik's teraa cheharaa mujhe from Aapas Ki Baat finds a sibling in the opening of the a.ntaraas in Pritam's lamhaa lamhaa from Gangster?

stuck in the groove

terii aa.Nkhe.n bhuul bhulaiyaa (hare raam hare raam) from Bhool Bhulaiya was admittedly catchy and well-mixed. But it's also one of those sticky lingering artifacts of a music director's work that refuse to fade away as he/she moves to the next project. I can't shake off that feeling of hare vu as I listen to tuu hai merii soNiye from Kismat Konnection and bas ek ki.ng from Singh is Kinng -- that Neeraj Shridhar, who belted out the original song of devotion and skimpy damsels, shows up again on both tracks doesn't help matters.

It happened when Vishal-Shekhar moved on from Cash -- the rhythm track in Tashan's chhaliyaa owed something to naa puuchh. And when Raja Hasan's voice broke out on maarii tiitarii in De Taali, it was as if he had begun to sing taalii bajaawe (Tashan me.n) from Tashan.

If memory serves me right, A R Rahman's Taal leaked into one of Padayappa or Sangamam (all I remember is my reaction; alas, I wish I could be confident about the Tamil film).

This isn't meant to stray into territory covered by long discussions on the "signatures" of music directors or on how they reuse their tunes in part (an interlude in one song becomes the mukha.Daa of another; a motif on the background score evolves into a song for playing hide-and-tree) or whole (Hridaynath churned out a robust melody for Lata to sing both Ghalib's rone se aur and Lekin's suniyo jii). This is thus not the place to mention that kisakaa hai ye tumako i.ntezaar mai.n huu.N naa (Main Hoon Na) was born as dha.Dakataa hai dil in Baazi; this is not the time to note a little interlude on the flute in Abhay's koyal-sii milii tumako prefigures the title song of Kal Ho Naa Ho.

Rajesh Roshan found inspiration in When Johnny Comes Marching Home when he delivered na bole tum na mai.nne kuchh kahaa in Baaton Baaton Mein (Had you already watched Stalag 17 or Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, you'd have been wise on the lift; or perhaps it took the third edition in the Die Hard saga to jog your memory). Have you ever noticed how that tune shares a lot with the title whistle in A Fistful Of Dollars?

We end with offering a musical reason to remember and talk about skin flicks. Wild Orchid, one of the more famous works in the canon of Zalman King, boasts an interesting soundtrack, a song from which, Bird Boy features prominently in a scene as the camera follows Mickey O'Rourke and Carré Otis walking -- that melody showed up later to contribute to Nadeem Shravan's success with koii na koii chaahiye in Deewana; years later, Anand Raj Anand made jaane kyaa hogaa raamaa hay in Kaante). And if you want to hear that loop from maa.Ngataa hai kyaa from Rangeela, go watch Emmanuelle in Space.

ooh la la la ... raindrops keep falling on my head

whoa combo! rahman + gulzar + bappi

Bappi's in Travolta mode. His recent revival has comprised the usual song and dance (Mr Prime Minister, Topless, Jaya Prada's venture into hip-hop), the occasional background score (Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Mara) and, in a rather interesting turn, singing bambaii nagariyaa for Vishal-Shekhar in Taxi No 9211. And now in a rather interesting coup, Bappi has sung a song penned by Gulzar and set to music by A R Rahman for Mani Ratnam's next film Guru (a film that's poised to be more valued for all the casting trivia unless Mani Saar manages a creative coup). The song's supposed to embellish the opening credits. I wonder if it's only a coincidence that Bappi was the music director responsible for delectable howlers like Bad Girl for the Mithun-Sridevi powerhouse flick Guru several years ago. This gives B-mongers (where B, in this case, can also mean Bappi) a reason to await the soundtrack.

wrong day basanti: scattered thoughts on Rang De Basanti

[april 02, 2006] (Spoilers exist -- in case there's some lucky soul out there who hasn't seen this film yet)

I refuse to evaluate Rang De Basanti by comparing it with other Bollywood releases, recent and not so recent. Such a comparison feels like a device employed to make every Bollywood release look good. Imagine subjecting someone to Sparsh: The Touch, Raat ke Saudagar, No Entry!, Garam Masala and Kisna and then screening this movie. It's a Pavlovian success. This also explains why producers continue to pelt us with trash hoping that we might find a particular relic of rubbish attractive enough.

I have no idea what thesis Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra puuraa naam had for this film. Mehra and Pandey had a wonderfully promising idea of presenting parallels between the militant spirit of revolutionaries like Bhagat Singh and a similar outburst among a handful of young Indians of today. The results are disappointing. Mehra is over-zealous with his advertising toolbox. The use of film blur and montages of wipes is irritating. Advertising instructs you in the art of brevity. It's all about saying the most in the least of time. Yet, Mehra seems to be revolting against his background. How else does one explain a film this long that could have clearly benefited from a loss of 60 minutes of audio-visual lard? The prevalence of exposition also underscores this film's aspirations to stay in the mainstream for rewards of ringing cash registers without venturing to make a statement of any interest. Did anyone count the number of times you saw "Coca Cola" in the frames?

The biggest crib from a lot of people, who weren't blinded by the "message" of doing something to fix your country, was the killing of the defence minister. I have to cast my vote here too. If ROM hadn't shown the actual killing, he might've snagged a shard of grace. Alternatively, he could've even devoted some more time to this crucial act. Instead he chooses to inundate the film's first half with a soggy assortment of mainstream cinema familiars: nothing really happens as far as the narrative goes, and ROM even tops it with full-length songs. It's a wonder people returned after the intermission. There could be several reasons for this: they didn't want to waste the large sum of money they just dropped at the box office; they were having a good time talking back to the screen and clearly had to go all the way (way to go!); they were watching it at home and skipped through the songs and the silly bits. So much time is devoted to shots and sequences featuring characters that are just slightly better etched than the dramatis personae of Abbas-Mustan flicks.

This can't be about "doing something about all that you see wrong around you"; this can't be a clarion call to the youth of today to bring about radical change. If it is, the film has failed miserably. The confusion in its vision is all over its running time to see: it tries hard to be a commercial mainstream Bollywood entertainer while also trying to juggle issues of corruption, a lost generation lacking purpose and concern for their land, love, friendship, and trying to pepper the mix by drawing a parallel between the present and the turbulent times that fuelled the militant responses of Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev and Rajguru.

The movie echoes Ratnam's Yuva and A R Rahman's soundtrack only amplifies the similarities -- Mehra uses most of the songs in the background (either on the soundtrack or as diegetic music) just as Ratnam did in Yuva. Some songs play longer than others, and only one, ruubaruu (in its first insert) manages to augment the tone of the goings-on on screen without making you fidget and wait till its done. That song is the sole creative saving grace of the film. If only Mehra had wound the film up shortly after Prasoon Joshi's apt lyrics in ruubaruu underscore the fulfillment that brings a smile on the faces of DJ, sukhii, siddhaarth and aslam. Instead, just like Shah Rukh Khan took his own damn time to die in Devdas, Mehra unwinds and meanders with a coda that offers nothing to match this priceless moment. On the contrary, he damages his case by piling on even more incredulities after having shocked the core of logic by presenting his version of Bumping off ministers for dummies.

The other merits of Rahman's contribution can only be evaluated outside the confines of this sorry waste of footage. The background score counterpoints events of the past with contemporary rock riffs; there are a lot of interesting melodies and fragments, and on he even scores a coup of sort with the songs. Prasoon Joshi's lyrics manage to make their way through further than most of the other Hindi excursions that Rahman has attempted. The choice of Chitra for the exuberant title song is a big mistake and the duet with Lata smacks more of a need to achieve a personal milestone ("I sang with Lata"). The song that I liked most on the soundtrack (ruubaruu) also became my favourite in the film thanks to the wonderful insert. If only the film had matched the complex highs of Rahman's work.

What I liked in the film were a handful of moments, too short to draw any attention:

* That short moment when DJ's grandfather (a wasted Lekh Tandon) returns home and shares a few words with him

* the sequence at the Golden Temple backed by a wondrously calming rendition of ek Omkaar. That sequence betrayed a confidence that the rest of this enterprise spent an eternity seeking in vain.

* lakshman paa.nDe (Atul Kulkarni) apologising to aslam (Kunal Kapoor)

In his first film Aks (the review: Sucks), Mehra took a competent thriller like Fallen, heaped a can of Hindu mythology onto it, seasoned it with some of the finest ham seen in the late twentieth century pantheon of Bollywood acting, and then assaulted our senses with his gourmet gunk. In this film, Mehra had more to be proud of: he had a script, a premise, an idea that had the potential of burgeoning into an interesting film that drew parallels between "similar" events in the past and the present and presented us with an ambiguity of intent, political climate and retrospective evaluation. What Mehra did with this almost qualifies him for a fate reserved for two corrupt individuals in Rang De Basanti. He ends up being as much to blame in the creative sense as they were in the administrative and moral sense.

A much more effective film was N Chandra's Ankush. That film was not a polished piece of Coca Cola advertising that Mehra's overlong flick tends to be –- it boasted strong heartfelt performances, dialogue that was effective without being clever or specious, and a simple narrative that focussed on the essentials without trying to pack an elephant into its suitcase.

RGV and ROM should've swapped titles. RGV could've called his remake of Ramesh Sippy's classic Rang De Basanti and ROM could've called his flick Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra ke Sholay. It seems to make more sense this way.

"Lose control!" (subtitled almost throughout as "loose") they screamed. ROM did. Sadly. But he's being rewarded in cash and kind. How unfair life is. Make a mediocre movie about people who bump off mediocre politicians and you get acclaim and profit.

Coda: I can see Mithun doing the ei saalaa! bit on ruubaruu, but that would've been too much fun ...

a quart of reels

And before he knew it, Saturday was upon him. He sat himself down on the couch and waited impatiently while the unskippable combination of federal warning/corporate logo/contents copyright/extras copyright screens had passed before the main menu for Once Upon a Time in the West came up. He had seen this film as well as the dollars trilogy quite a few times before. But this time, he had the benefit of a lot of reading and viewing about Sergio Leone and his style of filmmaking. The trademarks of this director's immensely rich sense of narrative style were obvious, as were his tendencies for excess and inconsistency. But right from the slow agonizing opening sequence to the last frame of a developing railway town, he agrees with every contention that this movie has an undeniable place in the list of greats. He smiled at the way Leone's directorial credit appeared: like the clapping block on a clapper board. He liked the use of silence in Cheyenne's theme on the soundtrack: (a) the abrupt stop as Cheyenne was dying, before a low whistle accompanies the thud of his body hitting the ground, and then the theme starts back up again (b) during the end credits before the frame fades to black. The special features on the DVD are rewarding sources of information (and it's nice to see what Sir Christopher Frayling, the author of Something to do with Death -- a biography that takes both its title and cover photograph from this epic -- looks like). It's nice to see how the massacre of Thakur Baldev Singh's family was inspired by the killing of the McBain family. It's nice to see and understand the importance of the presence of Monument Valley and also the influence of directors like Ford on Leone. And since Leone is clearly a post-modern director here, how would Tarantino be qualified given that Kill Bill Vol I and Kill Bill Vol II derived from movies like this (which already derived their content from other Westerns)? Touch of Evil represented a not-so-nostalgic coda to film noir. This movie is Leone's coda to the genre of the Western. It is imbued with the disdain and disillusionment that Ford faced in the last years of his career, and presented in his films like The Man who shot Liberty Valance. This is not to say that Leone's opus is pessimistic. Far from it. It conveys all the hope of the new (final?) frontier, but with a strict adherence to the harshness of hate, greed and death. And by using actors in parts that challenge their established persona and iconography ("good guy" Henry Fonda, Ford's good cop Woody Strode).

The problem with Taking Lives is the complete lack of any surprise or mystery. You will never really have a doubt about the true identity of Martin Asher, who has been "taking lives" -- killing people and assuming their identities and lives, because he cannot have a life of his own (thanks to his mother having showered all her affections on a now-deceased sibling). This is not to undermine the sincerity of Angelina Jolie playing a troubled FBI profiler with moody gusto. Ethan Hawke doesn't deliver all the goods. And Kiefer Sutherland's part suffers from the fact that we've seen him do parts like this before (the perceived suspect). There's definitely a section of the audience that will probably remember this film for the display of skin. There is no denying that it is a valid piece of trivia. But I really wish the film could transcend the oh-too-obvious similarities in mood to much more effective mood pieces like Se7en (what can you do? The serial killer genre is saturated). The score by Philip Glass is effective, as are some examples of the marriage of interesting camera angles and editing. And I must confess a macabre liking for the last time we see the head of Gene Rowlands (followed by a nice almost-vertigo-zoom moment for Angelina Jolie).It would seem, in the grand summation, that the denouement is not the purpose of the film. It seems most rewarding when you are in it for the journey. And it's a slickly made, decently executed journey. And yes, it's nice to see something that's officially set in Canada, instead of getting that place to pass off any any random American landscape.

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N

That Subhash Ghai has no talent as a filmmaker is evident. That he is on the verge of being a worthy successor to Dev Anand is undeniable. And the fact that his latest film Kisna: The Warrior Poet was compared to Yaadein shows that there are still some people in the audience who haven't switched their brains off. How does one begin to outline the demerits of a venture that is DOA? Vivek Oberoi almost betters his overtly-in-love-with-myself gig in Kyon!... Ho Gaya Na(dude, you have a long way to go before you can challenge Shah Rukh Khan). Subhash Ghai made the news for roping Ustad Rashid Khan in to sing a couple of songs on the soundtrack. If the way they were used in the film (or even arranged, to begin with) are any indication, Vishal's efforts with Sanjeev Abhyankar will continue to find no challenger for several years hence.

rahegii sadaa yahaa.N

Debutante Antonia Bernath grates like there is no tomorrow. And debutante Isha Sharvani does mostly nothing but dance in this film. Someone clearly handed her the wrong idea on how to make it big in Bollywood. What's the point of all those strange poses, all that rope mallakhaamb, and all those weird facial expressions? Ghai's posturing as an artistically sensitive filmmaker reeks thanks to this sample.

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N (piano/flute interplay)

And there's so much hamming in this film, it should have received a adults-only certificate for non-vegetarianism. Om Puri's medium rare hamming is a big big disappointment (and a blow for people who thought that he could do no wrong). Sushmita Sen's cameo is only another addition to the list of bland uninteresting characters. In her case, her part suffers from brevity. Most others, like the badly under-cooked villain Prince Raghuraj, suffer from unimaginative writing (or the complete lack thereof). To see Rajat Kapoor in this role mouthing dead parrot lines like "that's just the reassurance I wanted".

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N (plaintively bland keyboard arrangement)
The problem with sitting through this sorry affair is that in addition to nothing being any good, there's nothing that's any bad, in a manner of speaking. The bad stuff does not even pass the simplest litmus test for putridity. You can barely chuckle at predictably bad lines like "kisnaa, ##this politics##, matalab, hamaarii dostii, ##friendship## samaapt ?" or "jiivanalaal ##katherine## ko Dhuu.NDho waranaa tumhaaraa jiivan nahii.n rahegaa" or the Om Puri-mouthed inanity "for us, love is a love is a love is a love". Om Puri does get a bearable mouthful with "chamakatii taqadiir tumhaare saamane kha.Dii hai aur tuu us pe ba.nduuk taanakar kaale dhabbe lagaa riyaa hai .. aur vo bhii ardh\-na.ngaa?". To Vivek Oberoi belongs another competent earache: "zi.ndagii me.n kabhii ... kabhii\-kabhii ham ardh\-viraam ko puurN\-viraa samajhane lagate hai.n ... lekin vo puurN\-viraam nahii.n hotaa ... puurN\-viraam to sirph jiivan ke a.ntim saa.Ns ke saath hotaa hai".

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N (slow version)

Ghai was never someone who could present patriotism in an intelligent way, and this film has a couple of examples of people extolling the virtues of India with varying degrees of imbecility. And we also have some stupid exchanges like the following:

kisnaa: arre! ab to tum achchhii hi.ndii bhii bol letii ho
katherine: avashya
kisnaa: su.ndar
katherine: atii[sic] su.ndar (giggles)

Every Ghai film has been notorious for featuring Ghai indulging one of his many wannabe whims -- trying to equate himself to great directors and filmmakers. In particular, his desire to stick in a cameo (echoing Hitchcock, most famously). Almost all of them stick out as being self-indulgent (One would have to try really hard to make such a convincing argument against Hitchcock). I couldn't spot him in this film, but he appears prominently in the end, standing (at the left end of the screen) on the same ledge as the protagonists in the film, pointing to the right, where the words "a film by subhash ghai" (as if we had to be reminded!!!) appear. Ghai wrote, produced, edited and directed this reeking opus. And feels proudly shameless enough to announce it. I submit this to the JaDe project {what is the JaDe project?}

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N (nostalgic version)

All that exposition (Katherine's assumed name is Gangotri, Shankar (Yashpal Sharma) notes, for the benefit of the clueless in the audience, that Kisna has become truly like Lord Krishna after he kills his maternal uncle (Amrish Puri). Another pet itch of his falls off in this film too -- his penchant of giving his new heroines names that begin with an M (or choosing heroines who already had this taken care of). Didn't really work before. And it's probably just as well that he didn't do it this time. At least he has something he can blame the fate of this film on. After all, that stupid astrological excuse about his cameo in Yaadein wasn't very convincing. The subtitles (incompetent as ever) were probably written in Microsoft Word, because every new line is capitalized (a familiar annoyance).

ham hai.n is pal yahaa.N (pipe version)

The background score by A R Rahman seems to cog from James Cameron's TITANIC. And it seems to make a strange kind of sense -- this film uses a narrative structure (old woman goes into flashback mode to reveal the central story of ill-fated love with her younger self as one of the key players) just like that one. Alert listeners will recognize familiar phrases of raag kedaar at the Nawab's palace. And B-fashion connoisseurs will note the window shades (literally!) that Vivek Oberoi wears as part of his disguise there. And as I conclude, I can't shake off the fact that Farrukh Dhondy is listed as a fellow screenwriter...And, if you haven't already figured it out, my biggest grouse is the melody from A R Rahman that spreads like gangrene throughout the proceedings.

You could argue about the need for the violent nudity in The General's Daughter. And I might be inclined to agree, except that I can appreciate an even stronger argument for it being there -- if only to provide a suitably unsettling counterpoint to the motivations of people involved in the narrative. The plot elements are familiar, and I thought of A Few Good Men. Didn't like that one much, probably because of the presence of Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, and the undeniable aura that is Jack Nicholson. This film works well on most counts. Some of the writing is exceptionally engaging -- my favourites would be the scenes involving James Woods and John Travolta. James Cromwell lends able support, but Madeline Stowe is relegated to being a sidekick. Loved the soundtrack. Nice shots of Savannah. And the names of army bases were familiar, thanks to my day job. From a movie-monger's POV, there's John Frankenheimer's sole appearance before the camera (as General Sonnenberg) to cherish (and all of it, save the last line, done in one take). There seemed to be an oblique reference to Lethal Weapon 3 in the "I'll show you mine, you show me yours" exchange about grotesque wounds. Then there's the Casablanca dig with "We'll always have Brussels". And then there's Nietzsche ("that which does not destroy me makes me stronger"). Trivia-mongers may recall its use to open Conan the Barbarian. Two things worried me, though. That bumper sticker which said "killing for recreation". And "there are three ways of doing things: the right way, the wrong way, and the army way". Personal peeves aside, this is a decent thriller, which only fails at the denouement -- things just drop into stinkville in a most pathetic exhibition of the domino effect.

Which brings us (assume a suitable segue) to a B-grader from the personal collection, Scared to Death. The USP of this flick, according to the packaging, is that everything is told through flashback by a corpse (and this came before Sunset Boulevard!!!). The real USP is more movie-trivia-monger-friendly. This was apparently the only colour film that Bela Lugosi starred in. If you want laughs you can take comfort in some of the loud hamming that people indulge in, and the extreme theatrics (complete with Lugosi's steady standard take on the role). And you can also note the "photographed in natural colour" tagline in the opening credits. And just in case you forgot the name of the film, the final line tells you all: "she was literally scared to death".

spinning independence, drawing lines and the stinging aquatic

On July 04, 2004, I found myself doing stuff I had never done before, had never ever planned to do. I was at Lenox Mall in the evening. I was listening to the Spin Doctors live. And I didn't even know they were the real deal until they said so. And then I was watching the fireworks. The smell of beer and overpriced junk food permeated the proceedings, and the crowds filled me with dread. But the brief display of light was a minor consolation. Synchronized[sic] with patriotic songs from different genres of popular music (e.g. Bruce Springsteen, Ray Charles -- in a timely manner), these blasts were fun to watch. What was really cool was how the explosions of colour unfurled down on you just like the inhabitants of the machine world in The Matrix: Revolutions.

Lakeer: Forbidden Lines marks the lacklustre insomnia-curing directorial début of dance director Ahmed Khan. If only he had remained the guy who came up with the cool moves of Rangeela. A R Rahman returns the favour with a soundtrack that competes with Tehzeeb for lifelessness, and other sub-standard Rahman fare for inanity. The opening credits are cool, but what ensues is a tale of love, rivalry that seems like a watered-down version of Mukul Anand's Mahasangram. And that one had much better songs from Anand-Milind. Ahmed Khan does not choreograph a single one of the sequences of wasted footage. Raj Zutshi sports an interesting look. Suniel Shetty continues to provide an example of the success of the poor man's Peter Principle. The background score rips off Nirvana's Smells like Teen Spirit for a basketball match. And a Sunny Deol stunt rips off John Woo's Hard Target, if only in spirit. And you are even rewarded for your patience with a subtitle that reads "are you angry? (reel 4)". Touché and stay away.

My first visit to the Fernbank Museum was marked by a long romp through the Walk through Time in Georgia exhibit. The realistic recreations of the geological variety of Georgia were cool, and I managed to catch most of The Genomic Revolution. Marking an interval between these two walks was my first IMAX experience: a movie called Dolphins, a rather superficial "aren't dolphins cute" narrative dominated by a voiceover by Pierce Brosnan (who probably did it for the $$$), and adaptations and fragments from Sting's songs. Which meant that instead of enjoying the cute goings-on seen elsewhere a million times, I was tagging each piece of music heard, and running through a chronology of Sting's music in my head. Damn!

kanduokondain kandukondain/wbh2

[previous knot in the 2004 Indian Film Festival in Atlanta thread]

Admittedly, I was one of the few people who turned up for the screening of Rajeev Menon's second directorial venture Kanduokondain Kandukondain without the intention of ogling at Aishwarya Rai. Ang Lee's adaptation has nothing to fear from this adaptation of Sense and Sensibility, which could be best described as a bad Hindi mainstream flick made in Tamil. Menon snags the on-screen services of Aishwarya Rai (to draw in the mainstream crowds), Tabu (to draw in the mainstream audiences who would like to think they are patrons of alternative cinema and acting), along with other resident stars and even Mammootty all the way from Kerala (although M's Tamil appearances are not rare). He then snags the lass with the face-splitting grin Pooja Batra and the language-independent-nonactor Dino Morea. And then he gets people to dub for Rai and Tabu (Revathy for Tabu, if I remember correctly). He enlists the assistance of A R Rahman and Vairamuthu (and pays them back with references -- video for Rahman, dialogue for Vairamuthu -- to them in the film). I didn't like ARR's tracks for the film when I had heard them for the first time (except for the Chitra/Yesudas duet in raag natakuranji), and Chitra's voice comes across as a tad too squeaky for comfort. The subtitles sucked on occasion (both by having mistakes like "a women" and by being generally outrageously funny). Although Menon must be credited for his efforts at translocating Austen's tale to the vernacular ambience of the South, he needs to be drawn and quartered for showering us with one unbearable irritating song sequitur after another ... complete with location switches to Egypt and Scotland. Some of the comic dialogue works, but one cannot deny the overarching preponderance of schmaltz and mush. Madame Rai continues to astound me at her ability to snag plum roles with nary a sign of acting prowess. Madame Tabu proves the fragility of her acting abilities as she swings between good and unbearable.

What was more interesting was that while a couple of us nearly died laughing and falling out of our seats in our own Mystery Science Theatre talk on the film peppered with NC-17 rated alternative interpretations, the audience (a good mix of Indians and non-Indians) moved swiftly from being astounded by the randomness of the songs and dances to getting into the spirit of things and laughing out loud at the goings on. The applause at the end of the film could have been interpreted in several different ways, but my stomach hurt so much.

What shocked me in the wake of this film was the review of the film in the latest issue of Creative Loafing. The review makes uncomfortable references to this as a Bollywood product. Clearly, the reviewer knoweth not the difference between Bollywood and Tollywood Kollywood (as it were). The film pokes fun at Bollywood's ludicrously over-the-top production values while deriving a great deal of visual pleasure from their toe-tapping excesses. Nope. The film continues to subscribe to the Bollywood excesses, and makes no conscious attempt at satire. And then it even gets the cast wrong: clubbing poor Abbas, Srividya and Shamili as one entity and Ajith and Mamootty as another. I'm no longer surprised about how the West gets Indian cinema wrong. Just as Hong Kong flicks have their own Americanised mythology, the West will continue to regard India as a producer of brain-dead, feelgood, unreal sad sacks of mush like this and celebrate the "exhuberance" and "opulence" of sick pieces of drivel like Bhansali's Devdas, or extoll the celebrations of Monsoon Wedding and Bollywood Hollywood and churn out their own carbon copies (which, like Moulin Rouge often turn out with superior production values) of their idea of a "Bollywood musical". A pity.

It was unfortunate that a projection failure interrupted the screening of Waisa Bhi Hota Hai on Saturday. And the "long version" as they called it was shorter than the version on DVD. This has to be the only desi flick where the subtitles were bolder and more obscene than the actual dialogue. Of course, those not in the know probably lapped all this up with nary a doubt. The "genericisation" problem of subtitles persisted as all references to Mahima Choudhary were replaced by references to an "actress". So be it. Couple of other interesting things of note were the photograph of Atal Bihari Vajpayee and L K Advani on the wall of Ganpat Godhi's living room, and that in one scene Gangutaaii's underlings are clad in desi ripoffs of popular American brands. Still love the flick. It's not perfect, it's not great, but it's definitely fun. [NOTE: the version of allaah ke ba.nde in the film differs from the one on the soundtrack -- it's a single-voice version with different recording embellishments. Moreover, Kailash Kher doesn't even strum the right chords all the time]

music reviews {previous in thread} {last rahman review}

A call from ARR enthusiast JR around the time I see ARR's latest release Kangalal Kaidhu Sei (which apparently means "enslaved by your eyes" -- but note, ich kann Tamil nicht!). Providence, I say. I agree about the really interesting part about Anaarkalii lying in the opening percussive riff and jaa jaa re apane ma.ndiravaa (in Bhiimapalaas: thanks, Sujeet). The rest of it is laid back lounge (barring some nice brass). Why ARR why? At least, to be fair, it's not a rocking aural assault (see also: Tehzeeb). I hear English on azhagiya cindrella, and I think Shankar, yuck and wait till the song gets over. Once again, the soundscape conquers (and I still think of Jeans and perhaps even Boys). Nice sax though. Not too involved. And I wonder if it is indeed the sax -- there's something strange about the sound. A waste of Hariharan. The little percussive pepper and some nice delicious bass turnarounds ... damn it! soundscape again ... are the things I take away from Ennuyir Thozhiyea. Unfortunately, the male scatting that opens theekuruvil didn't endear. Of The lilt continues in the rest of the song, but there's the ARR soundscape rearing its ugly head. But the scatting and the fast electronic runs probably ensure this song's place in Rahman history (although the Malayalam supertalk in jiyaa jale takes qualitative and temporal precedence). Aaha Thamizhamma has the appealing catchy floor hook rhythm and soundscape and features Mathangi (heard on Tehzeeb) and the despicable Blaaze, who provides a dyslexic interpretation of linguistic syllables and domesticated noises). {Rahmanonline page}

Chameli has Sandesh Sandesh Shandilya contribution to Anant Balani's unfinished flick now helmed by Sudhir Mishra. Sunidhi Chauhan's bhaage re man has a suspiciously Hollywoodian opening followed by a ARR-esque tune that reeks even more of a lift. Could be my imagination. Nice interplay of flutes in the first interlude. Sunidhi strikes her second vocal avataar in sajaNaa ve sajaNaa -- the Northy hook means I wait till the end of the song. jaane (where Udit joins Sunidhi) has a lot of sax, motown-esque moments and more of the "have I heard this elsewhere" vibe, in addition to being a pleasant listen. Sunidhi's back alone (in case you haven't already figured out, this is an all-Sunidhi album) with ye la.mbaa. Some nice female vocal overlays and the infectious urgency seen also in Jhankaar Beats. bhiigii hu_ii ko_ii shaam echoes a lot of something already heard but there's the sax and some electric guitar punctuating another gentle song, where Javed Ali joins Sunidhi. SajaNaa ve sajaNaa reappears (remix?). And we're back to Sunidhi with jaane kyo.n (which is essentially bhiigii hu_ii). Wonder if Raaga.com screwed up. And I hope the film doesn't dig this piece in to death. There's that nice Motown hook last heard on an old MJ record. And more sax. Rounding up the list is soul of chameli, performed on sax by Tala (who?).

Police Force: Anand Milind are back (were they ever gone? even briefly?). Sonu Nigam and Alka Yagnik do the tired street dhin-chak with raftaa raftaa. Abhijeet replaces Sonu in dil churaayaa, which sports the emerging-voice sample made famous in Gupt. And then we have pitchbend keyboard on a tinny rhythm track -- Govinda-esque sangeet (if you can even call it that!). This is essentially aa aa ii revisited. The vibe continues with Shreya Ghoshal doing aahii re maa_ii complete with aahs, invocations of the saiyaa.N, kalaa_ii, rajaa_ii, and u.ngalii, but redeemed with some funk feedback and phased guitar. Another Govinda-staple beat reappears on chehare me.n. So New Knee Gum joins Sadhana Sargam. The dhin-chak rears up in full blast with Vinod Rathod and Poornima's nainaa ku.Nwaarii, complete with quoting bholii suurat dil ke khoTe. Guess these guys thought they had a good thing going, because there's a short reprise almost immediately (referencing the "parrot of the heart"). Richa Sharma rounds things off with chuu.Diyaa.N. The song starts off with some strange male scatting overlaying a standard electro-slap rhythm. Would it be rocket science to figure out that Sameer was responsible for the elements that pass off as lyrics in these offerings?


If someone from Raaga.com is reading: Those ads for Sulekha Classifieds you sneak into my playlist are not amusing -- getting some southie expats doing Englishie ads is quite amusing, BUT NOT WHEN I'M LISTENING TO MUSIC. I understand the economic reasons, but could you at least warn us or something.

rahmanreview: ennaku 20 unakku 18 (Disclaimer/Caveat: I don't speak Tamil)

Azhahina Azhahi has the strange combo of Surjo Bhattacharya (the voice of Thakshak's dhiim taa) and Shreya Ghoshal. The song has an interesting musical opening (am I surprised, given ARR's capability to churn out good soundscapes?). The same for Santhipoma, Kama Kama (which betrays a strong Middle-Eastern bent and some more terrible lyrics from Blaaze). Oru Nanban starts off quite like Kaamosh raat, and then loses it as it descends into high-speed miasmic textures of sound. Yedo Yedo will probably end up as my pick, although I am not quite sure why. Asathura returns to the Middle-Eastern flavour for its opening, before becoming one of those Rahman standards I've heard more than enough of.

rahman favourites

A post guaranteed to crack a smile on JR's e-face. Here are a few old and new reasons to find A R Rahman's "engineered" music interesting.

* Roja, Pudhiya Mugham, Thiruda Thiruda, Duet, May Madham, Gentleman, Kaadhalan, Muthu, Iruvar, Minassara Kannavu, Rangeela, 1947:Earth, Taal, Vande Mataram, Bombay (the Tamil version, simply because the Hindi lyrics changed concepts and ideas and also because I don't like Remo's patented over-tired yaa-baa-Duu-Daa anymore), Alai Payuthe (the Hindi remake Saathiya was a disappointment in comparison, despite ARR's interesting experiment in North-Indian singing)

* Athisaya Thirumanam Anandha Thirumanam from Parthale Paravasam, simply for its switching beat cycles and RDBurman-esque use of myriad instruments.

* Kaamosh raat dhiim taa daa re, and buu.Ndo.n se baate.n from Thakshak. ra.ng de becomes horrifying when you see Tabu dance to an aging Asha's voice (or should that be Asha's aging voice?).

* Parts of Kannathil Muthamittal, Kaadhal Virus, Vandicholai Chinraasu, Karuthamma, Sangamam, Kandukondain Kandukondain, some of the creditable effort in The Legend of Bhagat Singh

* Kay Sera Sera from Pukar (some cool instruments there too) was a good reworking of kaadhal nayagaraa from En Swasa Kaatre (which also had the original Jumbalikaa). The other songs were interesting too (was it coincidence that one of the interludes for kisamat se tum hamako mile ho was the same as the key riff in Seal's Kiss from a Rose?), although seeing Lata sing her song on screen (which was a reworking of a Malay song ARR had done for a Bosnia Relief concert) was a little too dyspeptic.

* Lagaan would have been on my list a few months ago, but all its appeal is lost now, especially because Asha and Lata sound too tired to merit repeat playing, I hate Udit Narayan, and the songs seem too synthesized, despite all the attempts at staying close to sounding native and rural (this is not to discount ARR's hard work in the area, mind you, just personal reactions).

Although I had amassed a sizeable collection of ARR tapes back home, I'd have to go back (miles away), replay them and append to this rather predictable list. But, for the record, most of his mainstream stuff is beginning to suffer from the tab-completion syndrome. Hopefully, there are more songs coming up like Athisaya Thirumanam

* Then there's the interesting Andhi Maalai aka Fantasy (perhaps aka Vaishnavar).. {more}

B O Y S: The latest sample bushel from the Panchatan valley

Couldn't miss an opportunity to (a) review a new A R Rahman release (b) Beat JR to it. NOTE: My runtime Tamil comprehension capabilities are not even entry-level, so don't expect to hear/read anything about the work of Vaali, Kapilan and Pa Vijay. You might get to hear some nasty things about Blaaze.

This is BOYS, the recently-released soundtrack (read: songs-track) for the latest Shankar film (yeah, that dude who rocks with less-than-dumb movies initiating global cinema-hall migraines). {track listing and more info}

* Ale Ale is a good way to open an album -- although, it didn't shake me up as much as Urvashi had. The musical tapestry is rich and catchy. Once again, I have little to no idea what they are singing about (except that I am sure it's in keeping with the central theme[sic] of the film)

* Boom Boom has ARR getting another non-Tam singer (in this case, Adnan Sami, who lent his vocal might to ARR in Saathiya) to sing Tamil. The beat's predictable, but the Beatles/Lennon-esque descent into instrumental chaos at the end is a nice little dollop

* Dating is inane and irritating (especially the by-now-all-too-familiar tired rap overlay on a popsy sample-laden beat and some exhausted English lyrics)

* Please Sir (pron: Plees saar) is a song found only on the Sri Lanka and Singapore releases (perhaps this has already been rectified, much to the dismay of sensible listeners who were glad with one song less). The rhythm and beats programming is strongly reminiscent of Sandeep Chowta's work with the title song of Dum (btw, the less-heard version by Sonu Nigam (pron: So_new Knee_gum) is a laugh riot). More English including phrases lifted from Cecilia. For the most part, this song is a cappella, something made famous by Penn Masala.

* Secret of Success goes Saa Ree Gaa May Paa Dhaa Knee Say. Sure sure... average.

There are more songs on this album methinks, but I couldn't grab a listen. Guess I can leave that to JR. BTW, according to that last song, love is the secret of success. Next!

Something more about Blaaze (pron: Blaa-zay or blasé) bhai. He's this average-joe rapper called Rajesh Raman from Bombay (Mumbai, whatever). ARR signed him on for this soundtrack and then got him to sing a little piece of rap for Rajinikanth saar's Baba [last endured] That piece of rap (lyrics and more history ) made him famous[sic] (well it impressed Rajini saar, which doesn't take too much effort methinks). Sorry saar, me not too blown away.

kavi pres

Our current President APJ Abdul Kalam has also jumped onto the music bandwagon (a la Vajpayee). Music whizkid A R Rahman is the composer of choice (after all, since you're the President, you deserve the best, right?). The source material includes APJ's book Ignited Minds and his poem "Song of Youth" {lyrics} {news blip}.

Is Rahman a religious fanatic?: Apparently Rahman's mother had problems with her son's 'Hindu' preferences. This casts an ugly shadow of doubt on his secular credentials. And religious fundamentalism or its tolerance is hardly expected from the maker of the record-breaking album Vandemataram, in which he eulogized the nation singing Ma tujhe salam. Or was the salam guided more by market compulsions than real patriotism?

Extra cut discovered on Bollywood record

Fancy headline isn't it? Nothing ground-breaking. Just discovered that the soundtrack CD of A. R. Rahman's score for Subhash Ghai's confused Taal has an extra song titled "Kya Dekh Rahe Ho Tum". If you have heard it, you will agree with me that owners of the audio cassette were better off with the omission. As the Planet Bollywood review puts it There isn't much to write about this one.

Ten real Rahman classics: Sthithaprajna digs up 10 Rahman rarities overshadowed by his popular songs.

Songs in the Mani Ratnam mode: Rahman gives Kannatil Muthamittal a score that carries forward Mani Ratnam's style of consciously juxtaposing traditional and modern musical genres. {review}