Once again democracy rules the roost. After much hue and cry the ‘cliff hanger’ over the release of ‘My Name Is Khan’ ended on an exultant note. The whole situation exemplifies the dictum:” personal is political. ”The pot-boiler sprung out from the actor and co-owner of Kolkata Knight Riders, Sharukh Khan’s reluctance to apologize for saying Pakistani Cricketers should have been picked for the Indian Premier League. Even though the Shiv Sena activists under the leadership of Bal Thackeray triumphed in stimulating a tremor down the spines of Mumbaikars, the public walked out valiantly in order to watch their favourite star’s block-buster. Theatre owners of Inox, Fun cinema and other multiplexes in Mumbai were dwindling in their decision whether to screen the film or not. Finally the whole array of events led to a climax with a cathartic effect. The tickets were auctioned on eBay for *1000[rs.6000] and sold out in five seconds at the Berlin International Film Festival.
Mr. Khan’s obduracy in clinging on to his stand amidst the controversy extracted much support from the film industry too. Earlier Karan Johar, the director of the film was also been criticized and made to apologize to Raj Thackeray[MNS]for using ‘Bombay’ instead of ‘Mumbai’ in one of his films. Thackeray even went to the extend of calling Sharukh Khan “a traitor”. The brothers’[MNS & Shiv Sena] effort to build up a political niche by blind folding the people through ‘fake tradition’ and ‘jingoism’ by problematising narrow issues finally defunct in a quagmire; in effect the backlash helped only to blacken the image of respective parties. The protest against this kind of parochial politics is the triumph of Republic and Democracy which cuts through the subterfuge to attain the desired end.
The political and public interference; say for instance the enthusiasm shown by the Maharashtra Home Minister R.R. Patil and other ministers to promote the screening of the film has been quite appreciative. It is not a question of screening the film which matters but the profound question of ‘rights’: the right to freedom; freedom of opinions and freedom to do anything that law abides. To curtail that right is to violate the Law and Constitution. Politics is not a child’s play and no party has the right to deny public freedom and opinion in a democratic set up like India through threats and violence
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
1. DREAM
Screen play, Editing, Direction:Kim Ki Duk
The film delves deep into the psyche of a young man called Jin.Fantacy and Realism are intertwined in such a manner that one forgets to draw a line between the two.Joe Odagiri,the smashing protagonist donnes his role perfectly well to suit the situation. The dream sequence of Jin materializes into real life situation for Ran. The mental and physical agony of a somnambulistic person is depicted perfectly well by the female protagonist. The unusual chemistry developed between them is also captured well within the frame; which questions the intricasies of human relationship. Cinematography is excellent.
2. BROKEN EMBRACES
Spain/2009/colour/127’/Spanish-English
Almodovar is a director who posses an unusual skill to employ ‘colour’ as device in his films. The right blend of colours provides not only a visual pleasure but also a wide range of implications. In his film “Volver” also he has employed such techniques. The narrative technique is quite different from the mainstream one. Its a kind of flashback which results in a question of identity crisis in a writer’s life. His life switch off between Henry Caine and Mateo Blanco.Shakespeare asked "what is in a name?" Ofcourse there is; the name as part of one's own identity which may be physical,or psychological, which provide deeper implications in life.The pseudonym applies to his literary work but the film he directs carries his real name.Its to forget his for love the heroine of his unreleased film, that he goes on with his psuedonym.Its romance at the same time a real life-like situation.
3.FISH CHILD
Direction,Screenplay: Lucia Pueuzo
The film is woven around a local myth of the story of ‘Fish child’. The lesbian lovers dream of living together in Paraguay and do all they can to attain their means. Though Keralites find it a bit difficult to acknowledge the same-sex love, the story touches the chord of our emotions. Guayi and Lala remind us of the two lovers in Kamala Das’ story. Director adopts a different technique in telling the story effectively.
4.ANTICHRIST
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Direction,Screenplay: Lars Von Trier
Though the film is musical in the beginning it takes a tragic turn after. The film is a subversion of the Biblical allusion and employs symbols and images. The guilty conscience of the woman that she has committed a sin leads to a series of events that culminates in the destruction of their life. The psychological trauma of the wife lands them in ‘Eden’ [a Biblical reference], to help her conquer her fears. Nature is a strong symbol in the film. Fear inhabits them both…The way in which the title ‘Antichrist’ is written makes a difference, the inverted cross .Its a misogynistic film mixed with cold violence and sex.
5.NYMPH
Direction,Screenplay: Pen-Ek-Ratanaruang
Film is quite contemporary and opens up a scope for ecocritical reading. The story radically subverts a myth using the sources of our contemporary angst: the technological divides , illicit affairs and ecological destruction. Nymph, which is a tree spirit, analogical to our mythical character say, Yakshi is a kind of trap. We can also read it through a different perspective, that it’s a return to nature; the identification of man with nature in spite of all the technological boom and innovations. though the firs sequence of the film kindle a strain of horror but fails miserably in its attempt .The film is also a bit lagging but the camera techniques seem to excel above all.
FILMS I DIDN’T LIKE
1. LAND OF SCARE CROWS
Korea/france/2008/Colour/90’/Korean
As per the review the film is about a transgender who becomes the cause for the destruction of a village. The film from beginning to the and still remains a riddle for me and most probably all who watched the film shared the same experience. Because of “par excellence” of the film the theatre became empty after the first half was over. The theme was good[according to the review] but it “failed to communicate” well. Shots seem to lack a continuum and the whole film was an utter flop.
2.NUCIGEN HOUSE
France-Romania-Chile/2008/colour/94’
Direction, Screnplay: Raul Ruiz
“The absurdit fairy tale freely based on Balzac story" says the review.It would have been better if it remained a story in book.Though the film bagged a series of awards internationally,the theatre was boowed down by the audience.The 'horror scenes' made us giggle and we "enjoyed
Monday, January 18, 2010
LETTERS FROM PAST
to a distant stranger...
hi...
The
train has just started moving. I procured my favourite seat with a cup of
coffee. The aroma of coffee took me back to warmth of memories…mamma’s
coffee…her warm hugs…my first love…waves…sea…rain…
The
hot wind matters no more neither do the scorching sun. Dreams devoured my
coffee or the coffee devoured my dreams. Still the bitter-sweetness remains,
clinging to the brim…afraid to shatter…yet unable to unite. The empty cup with
coffee stains cling on…unable to go off…unable to let it go…it was easy bUt “NO”.
The train is gathering momentum. Wind unleashed its power and Nature
overpowers…I lost my grip…and the cup was gone with wind instantly!!! Gone
forever…into wilderness. The transposed feeling of emptiness hammers in my
head…the feeling of getting lost…losing something, everything…the threat of
uncertainty?? bUt am not unhappy…am waiting …awaiting for another cup of
coffee…yet another…still another…to enjoy…to empty and to alienate.
Regards
N
PS:
This was the last letter to my distant stranger which I could never sent...
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Parallel Lines
"Mother" is "this"or "that",everyone said
But I never felt-
She never understood me
I never understood her.
A wide gap.............
Silence was better.Because
It could be an excuse,
It could be anything.
Unsaid is always better than
what is said.
I always wanted to be on my own.
But her shadow merged with mine
She wanted me to be in her line
But I had my own.
I remember the Maths teacher who taught:
"Parallel lines never coincide"
Will anyone disprove it?
But I never felt-
She never understood me
I never understood her.
A wide gap.............
Silence was better.Because
It could be an excuse,
It could be anything.
Unsaid is always better than
what is said.
I always wanted to be on my own.
But her shadow merged with mine
She wanted me to be in her line
But I had my own.
I remember the Maths teacher who taught:
"Parallel lines never coincide"
Will anyone disprove it?
BASICALLY YOU ARE ALL GIRLS!!!!!
It was raining cats and dogs.I had no way other than to take refuge in the waiting shed till she came back from the church graveyard.I cursed my memory which always betrayed me in taking an umbrella.She was my dear friend with whom I spend seven years of my residential school life.Our school was a microcosm where we lived in an entirely different world alienated from the usual school life;where we had to make ourselves fit for the fight outside the four boundaries of our campus.
She was an extraordinary sensible girl who tried to weave her net of life like a spider but was annoyed to find herself already in the intangible mesh of fate.The strict residential school life,even from the age of eleven taught us to follow the Darwinian principle in our life.Though hostel life was amusing at first,things were different after two-three years.
Time flees away cunningly without even making others aware of the changes it make in one’s life.Like seasons change she was also changing.Transformation is somewhat terrible when it shake out the very basement of the self-made framework of presumptions and ideologies.She despised her warden who always chewed the same cud after each and every night roll call,“You know basically you are all girls” giving particular emphasis at the words “basically”and “girls”;as if it was all our fault that we were born as girls,after all she was also a woman.Hearing this we felt like dumping her into a large tumbler with boiling water in it.
It was the day when we were promoted to 9th standard.During those days it was compulsory for girls to wear “dupatta” from 9th standard onwards,for the study time during night at the school building.The echo of boys howling at very moment we entered wearing “dupatta”still reverberates in my ears and this was something she could’nt tolerate.,but I consoled her and told her to take it as a mere joke.But then,there ensued a sword play with words between my friend and one of the quarrelsome boys in our class who always found an impish pleasure in pasting the chewing gum especially in her bench.Unfortunately our warden was the duty-in- charge that day and she happened to hear her shouting at the top her voice against the boy.
After the usual night roll call ‘speech’ she was given a one hour extra ‘moralising class’ by our warden,who was not even ready to hear her arguments;but always insisted upon the fact that “basically you are all girls.”
Amidst the tough hostel life,it was her mother whom she really missed.She could never understand her mother completely and always felt that her mother completely and always felt that her mother had woven a hard shell around her which was really difficult for her to penetrate.Six hours of Parents Visiting day could’nt cement up the gap between them.But they loved each other and always wanted to say something which both could’nt tell.
Vacations were like a cool downpour in the scorching sun.She was always confused with her ‘home’and ‘hostel’.Was home her ‘hostel’or hostel her ‘home’?She felt herself like a migrating bird that always came back to spend a few days at a wonderful place.
She slept with her mother whenever her father went for night shifts and it was during such hours that she gave vent to all her emotions and thoughts.Her mother poured out her ideas about the coincidences in life,about the unconquerable Fate and about the other sides of life.Her mother always said that ‘to get a good life-partner was the same as to win a lottery.’Though she could’nt imbibe everything that her mother said,she never counter-questioned her.But time revealed all the mysteries and secrets behind her mother’s words.
It was during such a vacation that they saw an astologer who was employed in a jewelry shop for identifying one’s birth stones.After learning her birth sign he asked with surprise.”are you still living with your husband?”;for which her mother’s response was a rhrtoric smile.
She could’nt sleep that night.The astrologer’s words echoed in her ears,”its surprising that you are not divorced still.”Each word hit on her soul like a sharp sword and made deep cut wounds.Then she knew everything and realization burst upon her like a bombshell.It was all an adjustment between them.Her parents were two parallel lines living under the same roof with entirely different ideas and ideals,which she could never accept.Her mother never lost equilibrium and maintained the chord from breaking despite all the harsh realities just for the sake of her daughter.
She swithched on the light and took out the ring from the box.It was 12.30 at night.The ring which astrologer gave her mother whichn was ‘destined’ to diminish all the difficulties in her life.He also predicted that all her difficulties will come to a halt after the age of forty five. A mere stone influencing a person’s life was something indigestible for her.
Mazing motion of her stream of thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the harsh voice of her father followed by arguments which ended with her mother’s sobs.
She never dared to ask about the undercurrents in her mothre’s life which made her life a quagmire from where there was no escape unless and until all the ties were broken.
Few weeks later, one night she disclosed her first love affair[which she later told me was a mere infatuation] to her mother.A long silence ensued there after, which was broken by phone call.It brought the message of the death of her father in aroad accident and surprisingly it was a week after mother’s forty fifth birthday.
A cold hand brought me back to reality.It was she herself smilling with an umbrella in her hand.
She was an extraordinary sensible girl who tried to weave her net of life like a spider but was annoyed to find herself already in the intangible mesh of fate.The strict residential school life,even from the age of eleven taught us to follow the Darwinian principle in our life.Though hostel life was amusing at first,things were different after two-three years.
Time flees away cunningly without even making others aware of the changes it make in one’s life.Like seasons change she was also changing.Transformation is somewhat terrible when it shake out the very basement of the self-made framework of presumptions and ideologies.She despised her warden who always chewed the same cud after each and every night roll call,“You know basically you are all girls” giving particular emphasis at the words “basically”and “girls”;as if it was all our fault that we were born as girls,after all she was also a woman.Hearing this we felt like dumping her into a large tumbler with boiling water in it.
It was the day when we were promoted to 9th standard.During those days it was compulsory for girls to wear “dupatta” from 9th standard onwards,for the study time during night at the school building.The echo of boys howling at very moment we entered wearing “dupatta”still reverberates in my ears and this was something she could’nt tolerate.,but I consoled her and told her to take it as a mere joke.But then,there ensued a sword play with words between my friend and one of the quarrelsome boys in our class who always found an impish pleasure in pasting the chewing gum especially in her bench.Unfortunately our warden was the duty-in- charge that day and she happened to hear her shouting at the top her voice against the boy.
After the usual night roll call ‘speech’ she was given a one hour extra ‘moralising class’ by our warden,who was not even ready to hear her arguments;but always insisted upon the fact that “basically you are all girls.”
Amidst the tough hostel life,it was her mother whom she really missed.She could never understand her mother completely and always felt that her mother completely and always felt that her mother had woven a hard shell around her which was really difficult for her to penetrate.Six hours of Parents Visiting day could’nt cement up the gap between them.But they loved each other and always wanted to say something which both could’nt tell.
Vacations were like a cool downpour in the scorching sun.She was always confused with her ‘home’and ‘hostel’.Was home her ‘hostel’or hostel her ‘home’?She felt herself like a migrating bird that always came back to spend a few days at a wonderful place.
She slept with her mother whenever her father went for night shifts and it was during such hours that she gave vent to all her emotions and thoughts.Her mother poured out her ideas about the coincidences in life,about the unconquerable Fate and about the other sides of life.Her mother always said that ‘to get a good life-partner was the same as to win a lottery.’Though she could’nt imbibe everything that her mother said,she never counter-questioned her.But time revealed all the mysteries and secrets behind her mother’s words.
It was during such a vacation that they saw an astologer who was employed in a jewelry shop for identifying one’s birth stones.After learning her birth sign he asked with surprise.”are you still living with your husband?”;for which her mother’s response was a rhrtoric smile.
She could’nt sleep that night.The astrologer’s words echoed in her ears,”its surprising that you are not divorced still.”Each word hit on her soul like a sharp sword and made deep cut wounds.Then she knew everything and realization burst upon her like a bombshell.It was all an adjustment between them.Her parents were two parallel lines living under the same roof with entirely different ideas and ideals,which she could never accept.Her mother never lost equilibrium and maintained the chord from breaking despite all the harsh realities just for the sake of her daughter.
She swithched on the light and took out the ring from the box.It was 12.30 at night.The ring which astrologer gave her mother whichn was ‘destined’ to diminish all the difficulties in her life.He also predicted that all her difficulties will come to a halt after the age of forty five. A mere stone influencing a person’s life was something indigestible for her.
Mazing motion of her stream of thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the harsh voice of her father followed by arguments which ended with her mother’s sobs.
She never dared to ask about the undercurrents in her mothre’s life which made her life a quagmire from where there was no escape unless and until all the ties were broken.
Few weeks later, one night she disclosed her first love affair[which she later told me was a mere infatuation] to her mother.A long silence ensued there after, which was broken by phone call.It brought the message of the death of her father in aroad accident and surprisingly it was a week after mother’s forty fifth birthday.
A cold hand brought me back to reality.It was she herself smilling with an umbrella in her hand.
AN INTROSPECTION INTO THE WORLD OF FILMS
AN INTROSPECTION INTO THE WORLD OF FILMS
Story telling as an art developed even from the time immemorial.When tradition gave way to technology,celluloid captured reality and fantacy into itself;and we cherish a kind of voyeuristic pleasure along with it.What is it that makes one glued to the chair for a stretch of two and a half hours?Even amidst this rat-race what is it that compels one to keep aside a full week for watching a couple of films?
Films are a kind of "displaced reality"which we tend to stamp out as "the other." We identifies,equates and alienate ourselves from the celluloidic experience.In a way its a medium for us to let loose all kinds of unresolved conflicts,unadmitted desires or traumatic past;a kind of deliberate escapism.
It has been a carnival of films for a full week.Life shot from various angles;a cocktail of myth,fantacy and reality.What make films different from literary texts is the sublimity of language.The human experience transposed beyond words.Ascenario in which flesh identifies flesh and emotions intertwines with experience.
Though almost all films dealt with a myriad of stories,the underlying theme remains the same:"nuances of human relationships."Let it be Kim Ki Duk's 'Dream';Von Trier's "Anti Christ'; Almadovar's 'Broken Embraces' or Christian Petzold's 'Jerichow'.But then what makes a film different?A mere stone transforms itself into a resplendant diamond when cut in the right angles.One should know where to strike and at what point of time.The most important aspect is the way in which we approach a story.
Now another question I have in mind is:"Is there something called 'good cinema' or 'bad cinema'?'Good' attain so-called "goodness" only because there are so-called "bad" ones.What makes one howl and hoot at some films?Films like 'Nucigen House' or 'Land of Scare Crows' are indeed films...![but may be beyond my comprehension level!].Why do certain films fail to communicate?
Penek's films has been a bit off the tangent and each of them were unique in its own ways.'Nymph' is aright mix of fantacy and reality;the film also excels in its technical innovation to set the right mood.
Other films like 'Water Lillies','Fish Child','A Vision','Shirin' etc rendered a visual feast to the audience.Among competition films,'The Absence' has been a traumatic experience...a wild mix of violence and melodrama.Turkish films 'There' strikes a different note.The film is an enquiry into the undercurrents in human relationships.'True noon','Fishing Platform','Masangeles','Road To Confluence' are other films in this section.
Now after watching all these films the question arises:"why do we watch films?"
Life is a mystery of relationships.A mystery which remains mysterious;refuses to reveal .Science fails to explain human relationships,bonds and uncertainties.So we search for it in Art,literary texts and of course, in films.It delves deep into the psyche of human beings and expose a maze of complexities.
Waiting for another IFFK;to fly off into a world of mystery and experience;to identify,to enjoy and to alienate.
Story telling as an art developed even from the time immemorial.When tradition gave way to technology,celluloid captured reality and fantacy into itself;and we cherish a kind of voyeuristic pleasure along with it.What is it that makes one glued to the chair for a stretch of two and a half hours?Even amidst this rat-race what is it that compels one to keep aside a full week for watching a couple of films?
Films are a kind of "displaced reality"which we tend to stamp out as "the other." We identifies,equates and alienate ourselves from the celluloidic experience.In a way its a medium for us to let loose all kinds of unresolved conflicts,unadmitted desires or traumatic past;a kind of deliberate escapism.
It has been a carnival of films for a full week.Life shot from various angles;a cocktail of myth,fantacy and reality.What make films different from literary texts is the sublimity of language.The human experience transposed beyond words.Ascenario in which flesh identifies flesh and emotions intertwines with experience.
Though almost all films dealt with a myriad of stories,the underlying theme remains the same:"nuances of human relationships."Let it be Kim Ki Duk's 'Dream';Von Trier's "Anti Christ'; Almadovar's 'Broken Embraces' or Christian Petzold's 'Jerichow'.But then what makes a film different?A mere stone transforms itself into a resplendant diamond when cut in the right angles.One should know where to strike and at what point of time.The most important aspect is the way in which we approach a story.
Now another question I have in mind is:"Is there something called 'good cinema' or 'bad cinema'?'Good' attain so-called "goodness" only because there are so-called "bad" ones.What makes one howl and hoot at some films?Films like 'Nucigen House' or 'Land of Scare Crows' are indeed films...![but may be beyond my comprehension level!].Why do certain films fail to communicate?
Penek's films has been a bit off the tangent and each of them were unique in its own ways.'Nymph' is aright mix of fantacy and reality;the film also excels in its technical innovation to set the right mood.
Other films like 'Water Lillies','Fish Child','A Vision','Shirin' etc rendered a visual feast to the audience.Among competition films,'The Absence' has been a traumatic experience...a wild mix of violence and melodrama.Turkish films 'There' strikes a different note.The film is an enquiry into the undercurrents in human relationships.'True noon','Fishing Platform','Masangeles','Road To Confluence' are other films in this section.
Now after watching all these films the question arises:"why do we watch films?"
Life is a mystery of relationships.A mystery which remains mysterious;refuses to reveal .Science fails to explain human relationships,bonds and uncertainties.So we search for it in Art,literary texts and of course, in films.It delves deep into the psyche of human beings and expose a maze of complexities.
Waiting for another IFFK;to fly off into a world of mystery and experience;to identify,to enjoy and to alienate.
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