The Dirty Picture – A review
For the first time in life, I watched a film within the first week of its release. Given the state of films these days, I am actually thankful that this one was worth my time and money. Now, where do I start? If I must summarize this film in one sentence, it is total value for money. It tells the story it wants to fairly well, has no pretensions of being an intellectual film (which suits me just fine) and entertains you for the 2.5 hours it runs. Like every other film ever made anywhere, it has its share of ups and downs. So, here we go!
Storyboard
Despite the disclaimer in the beginning of the film, it is the story of Silk Smitha, the wildly-popular item girl of the 80s. The director stays faithful to reality, while still taking some liberties with the details. Even our heroine is called Silk. For those familiar with the film industry scene of the 80s, the characters are familiar. The film doesn’t make any claims of making you think, and stays a true commercial film. Personally, I see nothing wrong with that.
Screenplay
Several loose ends. Why did the mother shut the door in Silk’s face? What transpired between the day she left home and the day she came back? What relationship did she share with her mother before she ran away from home? The mother is seen quietly weeping at Silk’s funeral without any conflicting emotions. The mother’s character lacks the depth that would have contributed greatly to the story.
The director could have devoted more time to exploring the complex relationship between the director and Silk, rather than wasting time on a rather one-dimensional love affair with the superstar’s brother that seems to serves no purpose other than enrage the superstar. Even the character of Ramakant as the superstar’s writer-brother seems to lack depth. A little bit of attention to the men in Silk’s life would have elevated the film to a level higher than just entertaining.
Whose idea was it to include that hilarious dream song between the director and Silk? It is completely pointless to include a song at that point and trimming away the excess would have made a good film better.
Music
Acquiring the rights to the Tamil song “Nakka Mukka” makes all the difference to the soundtrack. From the very beginning, the song sets the mood for the story. Every song takes you back to the 80s when films were garish and loud. On the whole, for a movie set in the 80s, the music was apt.
Acting
This is Vidya Balan’s film through and through. She carries the film on her shoulders with a performance that is nothing short of outstanding. There is plenty of cleavage, plenty of intimate scenes and plenty of swear words. But somehow, you never feel any of it is vulgar. Maybe, as other reviewers have suggested, it is because she gives herself so completely to the role that it seems natural rather than pretentious or vulgar. Despite prancing around in short skirts and cleavage-revealing tops, Vidya Balan manages to look sexy rather than vulgar. The way her appearance changes over the course of the film is testimony to the amount of work she has put into this role. Personally, she is the last person I would have expected to carry off a role like this. But, true to her style, she comes up trumps.
Once again, Naseerudeen Shah reminds you exactly why he is a veteran actor. He suitably downplays his role to give Vidya Balan her space but still matches her performance in every scene they have together. The aging superstar look, the pencil-thin moustache, the attitude, the behavior, all are perfect. Someone tell me why we don’t see more of him in movies? I was surprised to notice that Emraan Hashmi can actually act. And Tusshar Kapoor as well. Maybe it’s true that a good actor is made by the director in whose hands he puts himself. With all-round good performances by everyone the acting is well above average.
The little things
Of course there are little things that rankle. Like the fact that the characters speak impeccable Hindi in a tiny Chennai potti-kadai. But this is a Hindi movie, so what did you expect? Also, the character of Nayla as the journalist is woefully underdeveloped. I kept expecting some sort of friendship/camaraderie to develop between Silk and Nayla and it never happened. She merely reports what we already know. We get the feeling that we did not really need that character. Just a bunch of magazine clippings with gossip stories or scathing criticism would do.
The final verdict
Must watch. Once in a theatre, and repeat watches on DVD. Just try buying the originals and not the pirated version. This film deserves that!
7am Arivu – A good concept screwed up!
I watched 7am Arivu last night. My evening started off on a rather annoying note with the massive queue at Fame Cinemas. I think it sort of set the tone for things to come. Before I talk of the movie, let me declare that this is the very last time I am watching a movie at a theatre other than Sathyam in Chennai.
Fame has a crazy, and incredibly inefficient system. Like Sathyam, they let you book tickets online, which to their credit is a relatively hassle-free process. When you make a credit card purchase online, they allow you to print a booking confirmation with a booking id. You then need to take it to the theatre and collect your real ticket at the counter. At Fame National in Chennai, there is only one counter dedicated to Internet bookings. Yesterday, there were approximately 50 people in the queue for the movie when we arrived there at 9.40, a good 10 minutes before the show time. It took roughly 15 minutes for me to get my ticket, and I effectively missed a good 10 minutes of the film by the time I was in my seat. Why they cannot allow us to print our tickets as well is beyond my comprehension.This would just allow people who get e-tickets to go ahead without waiting, and make life a lot easier for everyone.
Ok…now that my rant about the stupid booking system is done with, on to the movie itself. 7am Arivu has a great concept, a decent story and an actor who can deliver. Yet, it fails on many counts. Let me take it on one by one.
Concept and storyboard
The concept is great. The idea of our own skills being used against us, of control through hypnotism, of genetic memory and genetic engineering…it’s all very nice. The storyboard is quite decent and sticks to its basic premise that the DNA holds the key to everything that we are, and what we are capable of doing. So far, so good.
Screenplay and direction
Terribly inconsistent screenplay, careless editing, and sometimes illogical happenings spoil it for us at the very first instance. Shruti Hasan is a PhD student in Genetic Engineering. Her best friend from school is a 3rd year Civil Engineering student? Why? Did she fail several times before she passed 10th std? Or does the director want us to believe that a 20-year old undergraduate student is capable of such advanced research? And what’s wrong with the heroine nearing 30 anyway? Another instance is when Surya and Shruti break into the professor’s house and Shruti starts up the professor’s computer. The director makes it look ridiculously easy to steal data from someone’s computer. A scientist doing DNA research and using an iMac doesn’t know how to password-protect his system? And is stupid enough to allow Chrome to same his passwords and not set a master password, especially when he has just received a confirmation of an account transfer of 300 crores rupees to his Swiss bank account? Give me a break!
And, why is the first part of the movie so incredibly boring and long? Why bring in Shruti Hasan as a love interest-cum-researcher, when the love story is not developed anyway? And why do have to insert songs at random intervals just for the sake of it? I wished I could hit the fast forward button sometimes. Just get on with the story guys!
Acting
Surya is his usual good-looking self. He delivers to the best of his abilities. Much as I like Surya, I must admit his histrionic abilities have their limitations. And this limit is good enough for 7am Arivu. On the whole, he is as good as he can be. But Shruti Hasan is a whole different matter. So much for genetic memory! Shruti doesn’t seem to have inherited even 1% of her father’s ability to either act or speak Tamil. At times, her American-accented Tamil gets too much to take. Her lecture on Tamil and it’s greatness, in that godawful accent of hers in the project presentation scene might have been laugh-worthy had the accent not been so jarring!
And finally!
The whole movie gets too preachy about the merits of traditional Indian knowledge at times. Reminding people of our past greatness is all ok, as long as we don’t forget where we are today, and what we need to do for a better future. Sometimes, we feel like the whole movie rides on past greatness, and not on anything present.
On the whole, amidst the lectures on the merits of vaasal theichufying and kolam pottufying, the director seems to forget his more fundamental task: making a film that is worth watching. My final verdict: it’s good enough to watch once, and bad enough to not want to see it ever again, even on TV.
And am back!
I have been missing for over a month now, and in my opinion, with good reason! This is probably the first real unforced blogging break I have taken in my 5-year old blogging career. That’s right. Five years is a long time, isn’t it? Since my break coincided with my bloggy birthday, I didn’t even blog on that day. October 16, five years ago, I was bitten by the blogging bug! I have a special relationship with my blog. I blog when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am frustrated, when I am angry. But very rarely do I blog when I really have nothing to complain about, brag about, crib about or rant about. Today, I am doing exactly that, perhaps for the first time in five years.
This month has gone by in a flash. I don’t even remember what exactly happened in this time, what with the wedding, the honeymoon, the house visits, and the second reception. Just when I was getting used to the idea of being married, I was back at work and drowning in an ocean of work! Sigh! A girl can’t even take a decent break and enjoy the first month of marriage! Such is life! The only thing I do remember of the last month is that there were rains, rains and more rains.
You see, I share a rather special relationship with the rains. The rain gods seem to want to participate in every event in my life. It rained when I was born. Oh, sorry! It poured buckets and the entire city was flooded the day I was born. Twenty nine years later, my mother still recounts the horror story to all and sundry. It rained on my first birthday as well apparently. Actually, it rains practically every birthday. A bit difficult to escape that seeing as I was born in October! More recently, the rains decided to grace the earth with their presence the day I left home for the first time to go to France. Again, it rained the day I joined my first (and current) job. I don’t remember a single landmark event in my life where rain was absent.
Being such a beloved child of the God of rain, any wonder then that it rained on my wedding day? The day dawned bright. Actually, my wedding happened when the day was just dawning. But, it seemed a bright and sunny day like any other. The wedding ceremony ended around 6 and we were spared some time to rest. The next thing we know is that the skies are darkening, 7 AM resembles night and that the skies have opened up and it’s pouring! Whatever happened suddenly? A lot of people called in to say they were stuck at home (or on the road in one case) because of the sudden and heavy downpour. Divine benediction maybe?
Anyway, after a self-imposed blogging break of over a month, I am back. As I have frequently promised in the past, I hope to be slightly more regular at blogging that in the past few months. Anyway, until then….ciao!
10 days to go…
…and I hardly feel like a bride. Don’t get me wrong…I am very happy to be one. It’s just that it seems like my wedding shopping will never end. Have I mentioned that I absolutely hate shopping? Well, I just began to hate it even more. So much so that I think I will send S for grocery shopping alone!! And, what’s with this wedding business? Nobody told me getting married would be so much work. Sure, I did bargain for a lot of work after marriage, but the very process seems too cumbersome to take! I think a colleague of mine got it right when he said, “Your weddings last 3 days just to ensure that you are so fed up of it that you will stay in the marriage! Who will dare attempt that a second time?” 😛
Each day is a comedy of errors in its own right. Two days ago, I gave the wedding invitation to a European colleague. After the mandatory congratulations and chit-chat, he said, “By European standards, marriage is the first step to divorce!” Arrey bhai! Shaadi to karne do pehle. Then I’ll think of the next step! 🙂 And then there is the time of the wedding. My darling mom (or mom-in-law, I have no idea!) decided that her daughter needed a lesson in sleeplessness and fixed the muhurtham for 4 AM. Now, before any of you start, I know that the Brahmamuhurtham is the most ausipicious time of the day and all that, but I happen to value my sleep, thank you very much!
Despite much argument, logical and illogical, mom stuck to her guns and shut me up with one sentence. “Oh stop it! You’re getting married once in a lifetime, if I am not mistaken! So stay awake one night and catch up on your beauty sleep later!” As for S, his biggest worry is that my father will oversleep and not be around to call him back from the Kasi Yatra. In fact, he wondered if all the drama was necessary so early in the morning. I keep telling him that after spending so much money on the wedding, my parents are unlikely to let him get away that easily! Dad on his part generously informed his son-in-law that the Trivandrum-Varanasi express stopped at Perambur around 3 AM, and that S still had a choice! Boys!! What am I going to do with the pair of them?
The biggest problem with having a 4 AM muhurtham is the sympathy I seem to be garnering from all quarters. Colleagues, having received my e-vite, have been calling to offer their deepest condolences for my lost sleep. Friends, who would otherwise have been present at the muhurtham call me to convey their sympathies and promise they will arrive in time for breakfast! Sigh! Such is life! I will probably be MIA for the next month. My blogging, already quite slow since May, has slowed down to unforgivable levels since I met S. Now, whether I must blame him or myself is open to question. I hope to be back with a bang end-October, with sporadic blogging and tweeting in-between, after settling down into blissful (?) matrimony! Until then, so long!
The Secret of the Nagas – A review
Sometimes, we pick up a sequel due to the sheer force and charm of Book 1. And that sequel turns out to be far below the standards set by its prequel. This is exactly what happened when I picked up The Secret of the Nagas without a second thought. I was that impressed by The Immortals of Meluha. As I started reading, I realized that the book was not quite what I expected it to be.
This book is readable, engaging. I may even be charitable enough to call it interesting. But somehow, it falls terribly short of expectations. The first book had a story novel enough to hold my interest. I did not really mind the simple writing style or the absence of metaphors. It was, after all, written in the manner of a thriller. So, it was with great expectations that I bought the second book for the Shiva Trilogy. To be fair to the author, I didn’t really mind reading it. It took me roughly six hours to read. Although I finished it in two sittings, with a dinner break and a phone call in-between, I wouldn’t say I was riveted.
The most glaring problem with The Secret of the Nagas is the characterization. In Book 1, the author had painstakingly built each of the characters in the book. Each character came across as interesting and engaging. In Book 2, the author seems to have taken his characters for granted. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of effort to develop the characters. They seem strangely lacking in depth. I can only think of two reasons for this. Either that Amish has reached the true limit of his literary abilities with The Immortals of Meluha, or that he has become complacent with the success of Book 1 and hasn’t put in that much time and effort into the second.
This lack of depth is especially evident in the author’s portrayal of Ganesh. As a reader who is reasonably well-informed about Hindu mythology, I found the explanation given for Ganesh’s appearance entirely unconvincing. Also, his character seems woefully underdeveloped. There is so much material available on the story and character of Ganesh in Indian mythology that the author could have at least tried to build his character better. On the contrary, there is a certain laziness about the way the book is written that makes it mediocre, albeit engaging and interesting.
Another glaring example of lack of depth is the characterization of Kali as Sati’s twin. With jet black skin vis-à-vis Sati’s golden hue, an untamed mane vs. Sati’s beautiful tresses…every description of Kali seems to scream prejudice. I couldn’t help but notice that almost involuntary association of fair with the good and the beautiful (Sati) and of black with the ugly and the evil. After giving us a rather intriguing sneak into Kali’s character in Book 1, the author fails to build on it and ends up presenting to the reader a vague and sometimes confused portrayal of the Kali. Incidentally, the fact that Kali is worshipped in most parts of India as the destroyer of evil, but in the Secret of the Nagas, this fact seems to have been skipped entirely.
Daksha’s character sees the strangest evolution of all. For someone who swore by the Neelkanth all through Book 1, he seems strangely ambivalent to Shiva in Book 2. So ambivalent in fact, that he doesn’t think twice of storming out after shouting at Shiva on being confronted with the sins of his past. Wouldn’t a true believer in the legend at least be afraid of being cursed? Or apologetic? This turnaround is not too easy to digest.
Finally, the actual Secret of the Nagas is revealed only in the very last page of the book. For a book that is named after that much-feared clan, there doesn’t seem to be much weightage given to the Nagas. Instead, the book dwells extensively on the Chandravanshis and the Suryavanshis and every other conceivable people in the country. Also, as a South Indian, I had serious problems with the reference to SangamTamil as a country. For any South Indian, it is fairly evident that the very appellation is wrong. Sanga Tamil refers to the language and not a territory. Will Amish please take note that his readers extend to the South of the Vindhyas as well and try to avoid such basic errors?
In one line: Although The Secret of the Nagas is an engaging and entertaining book, it falls terribly short of the expectations built by The Immortals of Meluha. If the author wants his third book to remain on people’s must-read list and on the bookstores’ best-selling lists, he better get his act together and read his manuscript properly before sending it off to the press the next time!