paes leander, don't hurt 'em

The film is called Rajdhani Express and offers another example of HowNotToMakeAMovieTrailer (too much text flashing into the screen from a new corner each time mixed with almost every plot point minus a twist or two, served with one-liners designed to be bookmarks for the editor to cut). Jimmy Shergill is on the roster as is Gulshan Grover. Both have been known to be kind to smaller films (remember Grover in Souten: The Other Woman?). This film will likely be a smidgen bigger because it marks the début of tennis star Leander Paes.

"Having grown up on films like the "Lawrence Of Arabia", "Sound Of Music", etc, I am all for the old school of filmmaking. (director Ashok Kohli)

The full name was Rajdhani Express: Point Blank Justice. Now, as a token of respect for the eventual plight of all viewers, the full name was changed to Rajdhani Express: An Unsafe Journey. The full name now appears to be Rajdhani Express: In Search of Dignity

4 Passengers. The Elite. The Intellectual. The Consumerist. An Underdog (hint: Paes).

It is possible that the voice you hear for Paes is not his own (source). Another case of Celina Jaitley and Lisa Ray. Fret not. You're here for more than that. You're hear for the almost inevitable badness that the trailer promises. Prepare yourself by watching Ajay Jadeja's début in Khel: No Ordinary Game!!!.

He calls Leander Lee. His last name is Kohli. bahut lii!

If you're itching for a plot synopsis, try this. Meanwhile, ex-lawyer Ashok Kohli is already working on his next project, an adaptation of the Bard's The Taming of the Shrew.

aiyyaa: mainstream meets oddball

• Rani Mukerji goes down Vidya Balan lane and does her own Dirty Picture (with aplomb, gumption and enthusiasm)
• the first half works really well in setting up the oddball universe
• after the interval, SSH kicks in, unfortunately
• great showcase for Pune and Punekars (Sambhaji Bridge, Subodh Bhave, Satish Alekar)
• Hats off to Amitabh Bhattacharya for the lyrics (please, just listen to them really carefully)
• nice touch having the laavaNii backing dancers in savaa Daa.clar wield digital video cameras
• Finally a film that features a poster of Chashme Baddoor (in addition to introducing fandom for Farooque Sheikh and Deepti Naval and resurrecting the name Dhurandhar)
• A Bengali star plays a Maharashtrian girl who falls for a Tamilian played by a Malayali star (you can spot the accent when he speaks his lines in the second half) and gets her cue for Dreamum Wakeupum (this film's ooh la-la) from Silk Smitha dance with Chiranjeevi in a Telugu film called Goonda (you wonder why you've heard that name before? Surely, you've seen golii maar, the rip-off of Michael Jackson's Thriller): this is seriously twisted
• What's this obsession with the statutory warning about cigarette smoking? The opening has the English and Hindi warnings presented on the screen with Rani Mukerji reading them offscreen; this shows up again after the intermission; each time we see Meenakshi's chain-smoking (literally!) Dad, the statutory warning reappears at the bottom right of the screen: This is just as bad as those tickers marketing cigarettes in those videotapes from the Gulf in the 80s and 90s. Please, Mr. Ramadoss and ilk, stop it!.
• Sachin Kundalkar does really well expanding a story from ga.ndha into an oddball romantic comedy, but just needed some tighter editing and shuffling of sequences in the second half (ijjat paapaD, allthough quirky enough, just feels like a drag in its fuller form: it might have fared better intercut with another scene, waakaDaa could well have become the song for the closing credits)
• most awesome device that later goes unused: the voice of Vividh Bharati providing introduction to and commentary about the goings-on
• You can see Kashyap's universe growing in the references: John Abraham, Dev.D
• +1 for featuring The Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction, Volume 2. Make that +2.
• subtitle goof: Azharbhai Chawl for Azerbaijan
• which part of Tamil Nadu was Surya's mother from? I thought I spotted some Malayalam in her Tamil

why viacom?

dear mr kashyap, Weeks have gone by since Gangs of Wasseypur never hit the marquee in the US. Weeks have gone by since "rumours" that this was part of some innovative strategy for handling releases overseas. Weeks have gone by since Gangs of Wasseypur II failed to hit the marquee in the US. The official DVD of part I is now available at Amazon.com. Theatre rips and the like have already been making the rounds at Indian stores in the US. I resisted getting one, because I really wanted to watch these films in the theatre.

I got the feeling that I'd even watch each twice. Just like Kill Bill. I watched both parts twice. In the hall. Call me nuts. And I loved the soundtracks of both. Same here. Sneha Khanwalkar helmed what I think is the best, most original soundtrack of the year. I do not anticipate anyone mustering anything remotely close to this.

But alas. When movies like Paan Singh Tomar and Shanghai and your own That Girl in Yellow Boots (but neither Gulaal nor No Smoking) made it to the marquee here with ease, what stops something so much bigger? The machinery of releasing Indian films in the US seemed to have improved over the last few years instead of making obvious overtures to profit by importing mind-numbing product starring known names and stars of various candelas? Did Viacom want to release the two parts as a single unit (like Grindhouse) and test the limits of the patience of the fidgety Indian audience and the uninterested owners of weather-beaten theatres screening Indian flicks? I have no way of knowing. How long did Viacom plan to wait before sending prints (or packets of bits) over? After the last DVD bearing an illegal rip from a theatre has been sold? After the last torrent for these rips has been left without seeds online? I have no way of knowing.

What I know is that I am extremely disappointed. A few years ago, I'd envy my friends back home each time a smaller more interesting film hit the multiplexes (the saviours for such small films). Things seemed to be improving but now with this film, I wonder if we're heading back to those days.

If this is how Viacom 18 plans to treat their projects, I hope that you and other directors whose work I find interesting will find alternatives that will allow your films to reach a wider audience and generate more revenue so that you are not treated as financial risks. Even UTV (whose DVDs are unfortunately sullied with watermarks just like the rest of them) would do.

Thank you for your kind attention.

shanghai: whither progress

As the red-on-black end credits for Dibakar Banerjee's Shanghai started scrolling up in an otherwise empty theatre, that rare feeling of wanting to sit in for the next show kicked in. I also wasn't sitting through the end credits out of habit with an open eye for trivia and familiar names; I was also thinking about what I had seen.

I was thinking about all the attention to little details to embellish almost every scene. I was thinking about that ball bouncing into what should have been an otherwise serious hearing; I was thinking about the desperation in every pore and crease of Anant Jog's face. I was thinking about the chaos of protest, of impassioned mobs and of fervent futile idealism presented in the brightest hues. I was thinking about each song loaded with the sharpest lyrics in many months. I was thinking about the item song that fit so well in the narrative, that was interrupted (as it would have been in real life) by the appearance of a political biggie. I was thinking about Abhay Deol's accent and how it added the extra something to his poise and demeanour without standing out as an acting exercise. I was thinking about Emraan Hashmi turning a new corner and doing what might be his best work as the pornographer/video photographer with horrible teeth. I was thinking about how almost no character in the film really seemed truly white or truly black. You could understand the futility of those driven to ill deeds in the quest for something better than their wretched conditions. I could understand (and perhaps not stomach) the pragmatic path that some people had chosen. I also saw how justice could seem as rich as skimmed milk. I liked how the last time we see the hospital is introduced as a sound that makes sense later and then continues as a long shot tracking faces and ending with a tear.

This is a fine film worth every anna (or whatever the lowest meaningful denomination is today in inflated India) of your ticket's price. But this film is not going to entertain you in the least. You won't really enjoy the fervour of bhaarat maataa kii jay because it's after all a paean to dengue and malaria as well as to the Golden Bird of yore. You can't ogle at the lady sashaying and wiggling away in imported kamariyaa because the song is never allowed to stay long enough to titillate you. You don't have a 5-minute obligatory sad song running over a montage of sad people. You don't have jingoism making it easier for you to take sides. You just sit and squirm each time you laugh or smile, because you realise that it was no laughing matter at all.

And because this is hardly an entertaining film, I fear that Dibakar Banerjee's brilliant adaptation of a Greek novel that already sired a classic in 1969 will find few takers. It will get the good notes from people who cannot influence the masses enough. It may survive with a recommendation or two from the few that may have ventured to the cinema halls and picked this instead of Ridley Scott's compelling Prometheus or that execrable piece of dung called Rowdy Rathore. But it will not change the inevitable results this weekend: Prabhu Deva's latest directorial venture will surely triumph. And India will continue to progress.

madagascar: lucky the third time in 3D

They walked in for a free preview screening of Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted on a nice bright Saturday morning. There were lots of kids in attendance, as expected. The usher welcoming everybody said "Disney" instead of "Dreamworks" (or did he?). As soon as the Dreamworks logo appeared, everybody in the theatre realised that this was the 3D version and not the 2D version (which was what the organisers of this preview had planned to screen).

Guess what was missing? 3D glasses. Oops. Scramble! Confusion. Voila! A box of 3D glasses is procured and packets are distributed in two flavours -- one for kids and the others for the grown-ups.

The lights go dim again and the logo appears. Oops. We still have a problem. The 3D on screen does not mix well with the 3D glasses and what you get is a mix of blurs, offset contours and general distraction. Screen off. Lights on.

They finally go and fix the projector (presumably this was 3D streaming out of a 2D lens). The third time is a charm and everybody sits back to enjoy a fun-filled romp in 3D. Dreamworks does a great job with the colours. There are a lot of good jokes and sequences and Frances McDormand makes a great splash as the villainess of the piece. Some of the jokes clearly work only for grown-ups: there are jokes that just expect you to know things that only a grown-up would; there are also jokes that challenge what kids should hear and see. Pixar manages a better balance in this matter. The crew of the first two films is back, but the penguins don't get to show off much. King Julien XIII gets more to do and his sub-plot offered the most fun of all the sub-plots.

If you're a fan of Clerk, there's a sequence that will look familiar (No, I am not kidding!). This is surely just a wishful coincidence. The makers of this film can hardly be expected to have seen Manoj Kumar's cult classic.

If you're an Indophile, stay for the end credits and watch a long roll for the Dreamworks crew from India.

lanka: good ideas don't go all the way

Lanka opens with a young doctor (Tia Bajpai) who, after treating a wife beaten up by her husband, goes berserk and treats the husband to a mixture of rants and punches. Evidently, she has done this before and is now forced to take a leave of absence to cool off. It's a very heavy-handed sequence delivered with camera setups, staging and dialogue that make you wince. These are the awkward trappings that often mar the product of low-budget films with good ideas and a crew with barely functional chops and not enough inspiration. Back at her house, this young doctor looks out at the city and, with a very stilted waxing inner voiceover starts the familiar journey into a flashback as she pens the story that forms the core of this film. You then see the first glimpse of Manoj Bajpayee, the villain of the piece and the reason you are crossing your fingers for this film.

Bajpayee's character Jaswant Sisodiya is the big powerful baddie in Bijnor, Uttar Pradesh. Our heroine Anju is here because her father is the Chief Medical Officer. Unfortunately Anju is also Sisodiya's keep and the family cannot escape thanks to constant guard by Sisodiya's men. All this sets the stage for a saviour -- our hero, chhoTe (Arjan Bajwa). Sisodiya dotes on chhoTe, because he is in debt to chhoTe's father, who cared for him and even went to fatal blows for him. chhoTe also happens to be rather hot-headed and this helps us with the obligatory fight sequences.

The fight sequences are not the only familiar element from mainstream cinema that you get. There's also the item song and the song to adorn the burgeoning of love (the lovely shiit lahar). Mercifully, except for the item song nobody else indulges in on-screen lip synching.

It's a pity then that Bajpayee still does not get enough of his due from the script. We all know how this is going to end and we are just waiting for things to unfold before the flashback ends. Yet director Maqbool Khan does not take advantage of the film's running time to explore our primary characters, and Sisodiya in particular. We always tend to see Sisodiya in the context of other players. It is to Bajpayee's credit, however, that even in such scenes where his character is likely to be lost in broad strokes, we get hints that there's more to Sisodiya than the clichés would have you believe. We can see that he cares for chhoTe; we never see him behave like a violent thug exercising his power and yet his love for Anju has taken ugly proportions. It's an unhealthy possessiveness. The impassioned retort near the end of the film gives us a chance to see what makes Sisodiya tick, but unfortunately it's two hours too late. You only have to look at Ronit Roy in Udaan for an example of how to do such a "bad" character right. Someone like Vikramaditya Motwane is what Bajpayee needs and not the slumming in Inteqam, the exploitative mess of Jaago, the regressive drama of Swami or the futility of an enterprise like this.

snip-paste

Roger Ebert ends his review of The Raven with

The use of sensational effects may be a temptation for a director like James McTeigue, whose first feature, "V for Vendetta" (2005), was actually pretty good. They create a problem of proportion for a period film like this, where personality and atmosphere should create suspense; extreme violence is unnecessary, although I realize that at least some Friday-night moviegoers will be hoping for it and have only a vague notion of when 1849 might have been.

I quit the Friday Night Movie Club years ago. Morning shows and matinees are more rewarding. There's also a second-run theatre hereabouts that I can visit to get a regular fix of the experience of "going to the cinema" -- and it also helps me wash away the sterile experience of the mainstream chains.

genre ghosh

Sujoy Ghosh's pulpy compact thriller Kahaani makes up for all the leaps of faith in narrative and character with a confident engaging pace, great performances and a wonderful milieu. It is heartening to see more films that respect the importance of characters and locations. Not as ambitious as Home Delivery (really, I am not kidding; go watch that film again), this film pays what might be the first diegetic tribute to the late R. D. Burman: while Jhankaar Beats was all about fans of the Sultan of Song, this film takes advantage of being set in the city of Calcutta and drenches the background with one Pancham tune after another (tere binaa jiyaa jaaye naa from Ghar, tuu meraa kyaa laage from Oonche Log, lekar ham diiwaanaa dil from Hum Kisise Kum Nahin, jethe jethe pothe and the Bengali versions of aaj kii raat (Jagir), jiivan ke har mo.D pe, apane pyaar ke, jaan-e-jaa.N (Jawani Diwani)). Although this is a Vidya Balan vehicle (and deservedly so), Sujoy Ghosh gives us supporting characters, who as in Kaminey, are just as memorable (or perhaps more): Parambrata Chatterjee's Rana, Nawazuddin Siddiqui's Khan, the manager of the Mona Lisa Guest House, Ridhi Sen as Polut the little kid at the Mona Lisa Guest House (move over Shekhar Kapur; Sujoy Ghosh is here to join Vishal Bhardwaj and Gulzar as a director who works well with children) and, of course, Saswata Chatterjee as Bob Biswas, who, unsurprisingly, has developed a following of his own. This is the most realistic hired gun you will ever see in a long time. Aside from a few moments that felt false (the sequence about a person having two names seemed like an uncomfortable take instead of a scene that fit well) and some damage to character development by the ending, I must confess I had a good time right from Usha Uthup's voice for the misleading song on the opening credits to the role of the city in the narrative to the Chekhovian guns on display (if you pay very close attention). Way to Ghosh!

operation yellow boots

Anurag Kashyap does it again and this time around he's not the producer, but the director and one of the writers of the film. Having already been witness to one of the most unlikely places to hear a quote from Jim Morrison, we are not as surprised when, after she asks Chittiappa Gowda the gangster when she should come (to pay off the gangster in happy endings), the gangster, already oozing comic menace, goes if you come today, it's too early; if you come tomorrow, it's too late; you pick the time; tick tick tick tick tick tick; tick tick tick tick tick tick. This not only fits his character because he is a Kannadiga ganster, after all but ensures that those who have never been lucky to have heard (and seen) the cult favourite from Operation Diamond Racket get a chance to right the wrong. Priceless!

PS: Earlier in the scene, when we first see Chittiappa, he's watching the video of a film song (that sounded like a Kannada version of Ilayaraja's raajaa raajaathi from Agni Natchathiram) on the tube. Does anyone know which movie that was?

the guacamole of his own deception

Imagine, if you will, Jack Nicholson stepping out of Chinatown and Johnny Depp walking off the set of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and both of them getting into Seth Brundle's telepod. Rango seems quite like the result of the teleportation. I am thinking more of the chameleon and the poster, but the film owes a huge debt to Chinatown, among other films, and Nicholson was in it. The film also has a Hunter S. Thompson "cameo" and that's what Depp's film was all about. Even the poster seems to ring a trippy bell.

The film runs high with numerous riffs on and references to films like Star Wars canon, Sergio Leone's westerns and Apocalypse Now and these references zip past your eyes and ears at a pace that respects your attention. The more you know about the movies it quotes from, the more you are likely to enjoy it, but even if you just walked in hoping to be entertained, you are not going to be disappointed.

Johnny Depp turns in a splendid performance behind the microphone and finds able support in the rest of the crew (which includes Alfred Molina, Bill Nighy, Ned Beatty, Isla Fisher, Harry Dean Stanton, Abigail Breslin and Ray Winstone). If you love Westerns, and especially the ones that Sergio Leone directed, you will find a lot to enjoy here. The narrative sticks to the familiar tale of a hero's journey (see also: A Bug's Life, Kung-fu Panda) mixed with the familiar trappings of a Western. The colours are bright and glorious, the animation detailed and the film itself is a marvel. Where else does one find Mariachi owls, Wagner on banjos, a bank that stores water and a rattlesnake with a gattling gun for a rattle? Gore Verbinski and ILM have made a fine film that really and truly holds its own in a genre that has been dominated by Pixar.

belly buddoor

While watching the extremely liberated and entertaining Delhi Belly a mild sense of déjà vu hit me.

• Three friends/roommates in Delhi
• a scooter that goes kaput at inopportune moments
• spoofs of pop culture
• getting accidentally involved in criminal goings-on

The answer: Chashm-e-Buddoor, Sai Paranjape's cult classic comedy from 1981.

I do not mean to suggest that the Abhinay Deo-helmed film is a rip-off or that Akshat Verma was taking a hint from Sanjay Gupta and running a DVD of Chashm-e-Buddoor endlessly while doodling out ideas for his script. I just found it interesting that two films I enjoyed had such common elements.

the roaring jeepbuster

Coming soon to theatres is Singham, the Bolly-remake of the Tamil blockbuster with Ajay Devgn (is this what they call dropped-A tuning?) stepping in for Suriya/Surya. The trailer featuring the title song has everything any lover of the opulent waste, the audacious stunts and fuming masculine grimaces of constipation that had been hallmarks of South Indian pulp cinema, usurped by Bollywood in a rage of remakes in the 80s and 90s and then left to thrive in the home base. taathaiyaa over to arrays of Dhols, colour-coordinated vigorous dancers, synchronised steps, a well-fed virile moustache (coconut oil, makkhan and lots of spirit gum). Watch kicked goons trip the loop fantastic as they defy the ordinary laws of Physics that work well in the IIT JEE, but not in the world of commercial cinema. Take a break to watch our hero fire a single shot at a jeep to send it flying (I kid you not!). The poster itself is quite cool, but I really like the teaser poster that was released some weeks before. That one just features a lion (Singham, duh!) with the letters of the title drawn out like a trim for its mane. The accompanying trailer offers more aerobics than the one with the title song. One only hopes that the obligatory romantic interludes are kept to a minimum, so that the lion's share of the film is devoted to conflict, confrontation and cracking jaws. It has just one curious oddity: it ends with the camera running in at a low angle to Devgn's face as he spits out his wheezy weak punchline: jis me.n hai dam to fakt baajiraao si.ngham. You see there's just a wee problem in how he pronounces fakt. फ़क्त is not how a Maharashtrian would pronounce it. There's no nuqtaa, which means it should be pha (try saying pa and ha at the same time and you'll get the idea) and not fa; and despite being written as फक्त, it's pronounced फक्तं (that's phakta for you). I wonder now if this was a weak attempt to toss a faux cuss word into the laps of the censor and then smile in all innocence.

By the way, does anyone know more about the name Shikre? I'm familiar with Shirke, but I don't think I've seen the name that Prakash Raj's character sports in the film. His name in the Tamil original referred to Murugan's vehicle of choice (the connection between that and a lion is left as an exercise to the reader).

RIP rasika

Rasika Joshi passed away on Thursday, July 07, 2011 after a long battle against cancer, robbing us of a great actress. She was 39. I was unfortunate never to have caught any of her work on the stage and only had her stellar turns in the films that got made when RGV's Factory was at its most fecund: the daring role of the prison bully in Ek Hasina Thi, Vishnu Prasad's annoying mother in Gayab!. The maid in Vaastu Shastra seemed like a weak echo of characters she had already played, but, if the film was an indication, the Factory had begun to sport some warts. By the time she showed up as Mrs. Dave in Go, the Factory was sputtering and when she appeared as Shiva's mother in Johnny Gaddaar, Sriram Raghavan had moved out of the Factory. As she seemed to become a frequent fixture in Priyadarshan's films, RGV continued to try and get her, even if it was a blink-and-you-might-miss-her role, for his films (Darling, Ram Gopal Varma ki Aag) and even for his forthcoming Not a Love Story. From an acquaintance and a fan, Rasika, you will be missed.

the most bizarre case of lost and found

My first reaction when I read it was WHAT?. On a recent trip to the USA, Bollywood actor Rishi Kapoor decided to search for his former co-star and headliner of the yesteryears, Raj Kiran (surely you remember Arth, Karz, Hip Hip Hurray) and finally managed to find him ... in a mental institution in Atlanta. I don't know what to say or write. This is worse than the lonely fate of Tony Vaz.

the tome of my god

His name is Eli and he is on his way to the west in a post-apocalyptic world. He is played by Denzel Washington and that was not all that made me think of Will Smith (I Am Legend). The montage set to How can you mend a broken heart? took me back to the frivolous bit of bathing in I, Robot while Stevie Wonder's Superstition played on. But I do the the Hughes Brothers great injustice by reaching out for such comparisons. They didn't rub it in that Eli was so fitting a name for a man walking across the country with the Bible (hint: Psalms 22:2-3). They kept the tone of the film consistent without getting enamoured of the special effects (even though some of the heavy digital dressing of the skyscape was a bit too obvious). I had enjoyed the way the attack on the house was presented -- thanks to careful planning and obvious post-production -- as a seamless adventurous shot with the camera tracing arcs that never distracted me and kept me interested in the action. I liked how elements from the western (a lone man drifting through towns, people building communities and worlds for themselves and a character humming a tune by Ennio Morricone) were mixed into the film without making it an exercise in blending genres; the narrative never yielded to exposition in order to tell us more about how the world had ended up this way -- it remained first a drama, a tale of conflict between people and values and a story of a personal quest. I could forgive the obligatory product placement, because the brands

The Hughes Brothers also gave me a chance to see another wonderful performance by Denzel Washington. Interestingly enough, it was the ending of the film that sealed it. What was otherwise an (as always) earnest measured performance became a very careful honest subtle interpretation. I went back to the beginning and started watching scenes, listening to lines, watching the big fight scene (and realising how the inspiration for it also made sense) and admiring just how honest everybody had been to me. The quote from Johnny Cash (Live at Folsom Prison) which had elicited a mild chuckle now seemed to mean even more. I found myself adding more meaning to the way scenes had played out.

I also found myself thinking about the ideas that the film had explored, even though I was not too convinced that the film had handled them well. The film could not resist the temptation to remain, despite its ambition, something better for the average viewer than the mindless action flick. There was more restraint, but there were also the familiar lapses that irked (the gun with infinite ammunition, for example). Although I would still pick The Road for being a more compassionate, subtle, complex exploration of the human condition in a post-apocalyptic world, I enjoyed The Book of Eli for being so much better than I had expected it to be.

when wisecracks collide

I was watching Taken once again and there was a point in the film where Liam Neeson meets an old collaborator in France and utters one of many memorable lines I am retired, not dead.

Some time later, I was back to reading The Second Deadly Sin by Lawrence Sanders. Edward X. Delaney has struck a conversation with bartender Harry Schwartz, who has recognised him from when he was Chief of Precinct 251. As the content flows from page 12 to page 13, Schwartz has asked Delaney what he has been up to, since he is no longer with the force:

"This and that," [Delaney] said vaguely. "Trying to keep busy."
The bartender spread his hands wide.
"What else?" he said. "Just because you're retired don't mean you're dead. Right?"

Go figure.

ritchie don't lose that number

In Sherlock Holmes, 221B and its occupants get a makeover from Guy Ritchie that upsets everything serious fans of Conan Doyle's most famous creation and Jeremy Brett's interpretation have held dear. If, in addition to all this, you don't care much for the talented Robert Downey Jr. you might want to spare yourself the experience and find another film to watch. Lovers of the Baker Street trivia of the irregular kind (such as YT) will find much to relish in the various references peppering this film. My favourite is the following:

holmes: The question is not if but how. The game's afoot.
watson: "Follow your spirit..."
holmes and watson: "And upon this charge, cry god for Harry, England and St. George!"

I will not insult your holmesian intelligence by trying to explain why I think that is cool.

Watson is less of the bumbling self of the books and stories and more like the Watson in The Doctor's Last Case by Stephen King. This makes the leading characters intellectual equals who are drastically different psychologically and sets the stage for the kind of sparring that embellishes a buddy/action film ideal for the season. Lord Blackwood is a great villain and there are some expected setpieces to justify your overpriced ticket and popcorn, but the CG is painfully obvious in the final crash and bang sequences.

I have to confess being more entertained than shocked at Robert Downey Jr's interpretation of Sherlock Holmes. Jeremy Brett's definitive portrayal in the TV series had reportedly taken a toll on the late actor (in a manner similar to what the Joker had done to Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight). I don't see that happening here. Where Brett's Holmes is intelligent, cold, dispassionate, obsessive and depressive, the Sherlock Holmes of 2009 is smart, socially gauche, witty and often sarcastic and yet cares for Watson, respects his intelligence and is also not lacking a soul (watch the eyes). I also liked the short voiceovers representing the mind of Sherlock Holmes as he describes his moves when dealing with goons or boxing opponents. And I loved The Rocky Road to Dublin (used in the boxing sequence and the end credits), which, sadly, was not included on the official soundtrack release. Thankfully, I found a version on a compilation of hits by The Dubliners, and I'm now temporarily swaying and laughing to Irish jigs.

The inevitable sequel is underway and perhaps the mystery of the uncredited voice of Dr. Moriarty will also be solved soon. If they get the CG right (or perhaps get less ambitious with the stunts), this might be a series worth watching. Unless you are a purist. May the dog be with you.

RIP pankaj advani

If you need evidence that Pankaj Advani was perhaps the best thing to happen to Bollywood in 2009, do yourself a favour and watch Sankat City. It is a wondrous mix of characters (consider for example, a small-time car thief who loves fish and can't stand killing or eating them or a loan shark who pronounces J as Z and has a fetish for dancing to Tamil songs with fat Madrasi girls), a zippy screenplay that mixes humour, violence, drama and surrealism and a great score by Ranjit Barot. Things tumble along like fervid dominoes until the intermission and the second half barely survives succumbing to SSH (Sagging Second Half), the congenital affliction of all Bollyflicks. Kay Kay Menon, Dilip Prabhawalkar and Anupam Kher, Virendra Saxena and ShriVallabh Vyas lead the performances. Any more footage devoted to Rimi Sen would have made it quite clear that the lass is no great shakes in the acting department. Chunkey Pandey manages to ham out of hand, but this mercifully remains compliant with the changing tone of the film -- at times darkly funny, at times strangely serious, at times morbid. One wonders how many such pearls were bouncing about in Pankaj Advani's imagination. He clammed up too early, depriving us of a fresh smart intellect and a promising cinematic voice.

बाबुराव सो गया

It all starts with the title. How does one creatively justify an ode to Bombay's gangster fact and the myth perpetuated by Bollywood that cops out with a title like Once Upon A Time In Mumbaai? The double i smacks of capitulation to astrological mores (should I be surprised given that Ekta "Balaji" Kapoor is the producer?). The choice of the new politically motivated, politically correct and logistically and sensibly offensive Mumbai instead of the more apt Bombay reeks of self-referential irony. A film celebrating our fascination with the underworld of Bombay has to yield to the pressures of a different clique of gangsters (referred to politely as politicians).

Once you get past the title and start hoping to celebrate the look and vibe of the period that the posters have whetted your appetite for, you realise that Luthria and Co. couldn't get their act together. All the visual texture of the film is sadly lacking. The annoying modern device of the steadicam (shakycam, unsteadicam, seasickvision) is seasoned with some unexciting camera setups and embellished by very terrible editing. These are things you could have ignored while watching those 70s powerhouse flicks celebrating machismo and superb dialogue-writing from Salim-Javed had the lines been spoken by the modern equivalents of Amitabh Bachchan and Vinod Khanna. Alas, you have to make do with Ajay Devgan (or Devgn as he wishes to spell it now -- he's only one vowel shy of becoming Bollywood's Mxyzptlk) and Emraan Hashmi. While Devgn's sincerity prevents you from getting really upset with him trying his best to hold up a role that is unmistakably fashioned as a tribute to Amitabh Bachchan's ouevre (Deewar, Trishul, Kaala Patthar). Costumes can only help a man so much. Devgn just doesn't have the charisma to make Sultan Mirza as engaging as Vijay (a Mercedes Benz with a 786 number plate is a great way to pay tribute to history and pop culture, but doesn't match up to a बिल्ला). Devgn was far better as Malik in Company, which was a far better film if you were looking for a modern take on the Bombay underworld.

Even talking about Emraan Hashmi's presence in the film would be giving him more credence that he deserves. Nothing has changed really since he chewed cinema screens while screaming his lungs out under the pretence of acting in Footpath. You cheer each time he is beaten up and cringe every time he gets upset. Vivek Oberoi, in his début, fared far better in Company.

The women (Prachi Desai, Kangana Ranaut) remain human versions of low-fat salad dressing and make all those trite parts for heroines in the revenge flicks of the 70s and 80s seem better written and better developed.

And then you have the songs where Pritam delivers the goods for a saleable soundtrack but fails to choose arrangements and styles appropriate for the period. A remix of R. D. Burman's 70s hit duniyaa me.n is quite strange for a film that is set in the same time period. Why not just pepper the soundscape with songs of the time? Since each song is non-diegetic and only employs the familiar Bollywood tropes, this department delivers a complete dud.

The biggest gripe, perhaps, is that the sum of all this merits the use of an adjective last appropriately used in Chemistry classes when discussing helium, neon, argon, kryton, xenon and radon. It's as inert as they come. Luthria may have succeeded in creating the largest, most expensive cure for insomnia ever in Bollywood. The film almost makes Govind Nihalani's Party look like a summer action blockbuster in comparison.

Milan Luthria's filmography gives me the impression that he might be capable to delivering something interesting while never departing from the conventions of Bollywood. Unfortunately, the problem of delivering more promise than product plagues all his stuff that I have seen including Deewar: Let's Bring Our Heroes Home and Taxi No. 9211. There are rumours that a sequel is in the works with the focus moving from Haji Mastan and Varadarajan Mudaliar to Dawood Ibrahim. Don't hold your breath. Go watch Nayakan, Deewar and Company again instead.

are you watching closely?

5 plus 2 makes 7; plus 8 makes 15; plus 4 makes 19; plus 9 makes 28; plus 1 makes 29. 29 is a prime number! 2 plus 9 makes 11. 11 is also a prime number! 1 plus 1 makes 2. ALSO a prime number! Google is your friend. 528491 is a prime number as well. That gives us a prime within a prime within a prime.

One of my favourite stories in childhood was the Greek myth about the slaying of the Minotaur by Theseus and there was the girl who loved him and gave him the yarn so that he could trace his way back out of the labyrinth, out of the maze. And her name was ...!

Oh wait! She got an Oscar for playing the real-life singer whose song's playing throughout the film!

Those stairs. Oh! The pawn. Or was it a bishop? Chess! Bobby Fischer! Um, Robert Fischer ... Bobby Fischer.

He has the same name as that serial burglar who befriended the guy who followed strangers ... hmmm.

Excuse me while I pinch myself. I must be dreaming.