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Tuesday, April 17, 2007

A new series

Somewhere on the sidebar of this blog lies a listing of categories. In a rare moment of lucidity, one grandly named it Method in Madness. And somewhere in it lies a dedicated category called Music. You see, once upon a time, I imagined I’d be doing a whole lot of music writing on this blog. No, not in a ‘Yay! I shall give Altaf Raja some competition!’ sort of way. (Although those who have heard the seventeen of us sing a harmonized chorus version of yaaron maine panga le liya will vouch for it being a perfectly viable career option for us.) But writing about music.

But alas, it did not happen. The silliness took precedence, the lunacy invaded the blog, and the poor music got pushed aside. It still sits at the top of the list though, looking imposing and all-important. Saala main to saahab ban gaya it sings, thinking of itself as a Dilip Kumar in Sagina (1974). But it is more like Dilip Kumar in Devdas (1955) — all talk and no action. Its only purpose is to taunt me from time to time — Music is your passion, you claim? How many posts? Thirteen? Pfffft. Passion, it seems. Snigger.

So one has decided that enough is enough. (Why do we always say that, by the way? Why can’t someone else be enough? Why should only enough be enough? I think everyone should be given a chance to be enough. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Mr Mukkavalli Sambasiva Rao. He will be enough from today on. Thank you.) So where was I? Ah yes. One has decided to start a new series.

What is it going to be about, you ask? I will pick a movie, any movie, and write about it. The focus will primarily be its music, but the movie will also get spoken about. I will not limit myself by composer, director, era or genre. Obscure movies, obscurer music, everything is welcome. Connoisseurs will find a Bandini (1963) and lovers of cheese will find a Dance Dance (1987). Or a Meera Ka Mohan (1992) even.

Oh and yes! I want you to recommend movies to write about. I hope that this series will help me (and you) discover music that we had forgotten about or never heard. Or never wanted to. Songs that fill you with déjà vu. Or soundtracks that we love to hate. But I also hope, that this series will result in discussion. Who is better? Kishore or Rafi? Should Lata stop singing? Is there a difference between inspiration and plagiarism? Is Pritam a suspect composer but an excellent arranger? In sansanikhez aur hairat-angez sawaalon ka answer, coming soon to a commentspace near you. And I’m counting on you all to make it happen. Yes, you. So stop lurking and start writing!

Finally, I will say this. Music, for me, is a matter of the heart. As it must be for a lot of you, I am sure. So while I will try to be unbiased and analytical, what I write will be subjective. It will be my opinion at the time of writing the post. It may change the next day, or it may not, but it is still just an opinion and not the gospel truth. So, if I step on your toes sometimes, it might be because you were trying to waltz while I was attempting to dhinkichiki. But it doesn’t mean that either of us doesn’t know how to dance.

Speaking of déjà vu, a little nonsense before I go —

Q: What do you call a feeling of déjà vu that also makes you very happy?
A: Déjà-woo-hoo!

Okie, now let’s talk music.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Don

(Caution: Loooong post. Plus potential spoilers ahead.)

Once upon a time, long long ago, when childhood was all about scraped knees and snot-covered handkerchiefs pinned to your chest, TV meant Doordarshan and a choice in what you watched was between On and Off .. in such difficult days of yore, there existed a loser, paradoxically named Jeet. Jeet Upendra. He had no talent to boast of except his pelvic thrusts, which were rumored to defy gravity. But this is not his story. (Although for those of you who are really interested, he went on to marry blink-and-you’ll-think-I’m-Parveen Babi starlet Deepshikha. And then got dumped by her. And got back together. And got dumped again. Must be fun being him, no?)

Around the same time, a fine gentleman named Hasan born to a Mr Jehangir across the border, became a singing sensation. He had bad hair and many years later became Altaf Raja’s singing idol. But this is not about him either.

Kipling said in The Ballad of East and West, not knowing that he’d be quoted in this unfortunate context —

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;

And one fateful Wednesday evening, that did happen. Jeet Upendra and his band of sideys burst onto screen shaking their booties while Hasan Jehangir’s hawa hawa ae hawa khushboo lutaa de bellowed in the background. And an entire generation of innocent Chitrahaar-watching children discovered Don 2. And were left with a Voldemort-sized scar on their childhood. But this is not their story either.

Then what is the darn post about, you ask? It is about the two Dons on both sides of Don 2. Yes, this is somewhat of a teetar ke do aage teetar, teetar ke do peeche teetar, aage teetar, peeche teetar, bolo kitne teetar scenario, but without an annoying Raj Kapoor. (I’ll get on a trip some other day about why I hate that slimy-looking lafanga who pretends to act all bhola-bhala. Oh, I guess I just did.)

So, as I was saying, the Farhan Akhtar remake of Don (1978), aka Don – The Chase Begins Again (2006), has finally been seen, and seeing as I have an opinion about everything, I have one on this too and I’m naturally going to share it with you. Oh and just FYI, in the rest of this post, the original Don is referred to as the original Don and the new Don will cleverly be called the new Don, to save everyone from further confusion and to show-off my keen teetar-referencing skills.

Now, since no review of Don is complete without throwing in the statutory — ‘I usually have my apprehensions about remakes, but I still decided to give Don a chance, because ..’ bit, let’s start with that. I usually have my apprehensions about remakes, but I (a) like what Farhan Akhtar has done so far (b) love the original Don (c) am a sucker for style and coolness (d) thought the music of the new Don captures the spirit of the original nicely, especially the signature toooooooo-teee-tooo-tooo-teee-tooo-tee-doo-dooo bit from the original’s background score.

When you attempt to remake a movie that almost everyone is fond of, you have a high likelihood of being looked at as ‘messing with a good thing’ and a low chance of being given credit for your efforts. To make things more difficult, this is the movie that starred Amitabh in his first ever ‘In and As’ role. And worst of all, most people know the story, even the folks who haven’t seen the original. The twists and plot points are all familiar. Given this, the odds of getting it wrong are fairly high.

But Farhan is smart. He knows he doesn’t have an Amitabh. So he makes sure he takes the most bankable actor around — Shahrukh. He adds generous gobs of thrills and chills, villains that make being bad look good, cool cars, stunning locales, more hunk value (A younger Arjun Rampal in place of the older, grouchier Pran), double the babe value (Priyanka is back to looking deliciously sultry, so much better than she did in Krrish) And finally, he smartly modifies the characterizations (giving Boman Irani a chance that Iftikhar never had) resulting in two very important twists — one around the intermission and one at the end. (Both of which I figured out pre-intermission, so major preen moment for me.)

And does it work? Yes it does, it surely does. The new Don is slick, fast and snazzy-looking, and entertains you for its two-and-a-half-hours. Sure, it has its weaknesses, but there’s never a dull moment, never a point when you check the time. (As someone who has suffered KANK, the not-looking-at-your-watch qualification is an important one.) Now one could say, that the pace of the script works because the original Don is in the back of your head, providing the needed cohesion. But it is to Farhan’s credit that he used that fact to his advantage rather than disadvantage.

Now, for some minor whines (no really, don’t be fooled by the length), since no review is complete without them.

  • I promised myself that I would not compare King Khan to the Big B. It is unfair, especially since SRK wasn’t attempting to be an Amitabh, in the first place. But I cannot resist — Amitabh’s Don had an aloofness, a certain coldness about him. An example — when Amitabh says to Helen (right before ye mera dil yaar ka deewana) — mujhe romantic baatein bore kartii hain, the disinterested look he gives her, conveys the I-have-no-use-for-women-except-for-sex sentiment, effectively. That same line on SRK sounds like a pompous dialogue and nothing else. I almost expect him to go — eyyy KKKamini .. the next instant. Perhaps his romantic image works against him. Or is it the metrosexual one? Either way, it just doesn’t click. Or perhaps, given that Shahrukh’s Don is different from the original (he’s more maniacal than Amitabh’s chilling Don, I think), those dialogues shouldn’t have been re-used.

  • I wish Farhan had left the ye meraa dil yaar ka deewaanaa remix on the soundtrack, without including it on screen, and instead did a new version, like with the main hoon Don number. (Which has some spirited singing by Shaan, and has the recurring fundoo Don theme music.) And while on the music of Don, I love the very 80s-ish aaj kii raat, which was dissed for being very Bappi-like. (Since when has that been a bad thing, people?) I also like its picturization, with the continuous-shot sequences, while the singing lines alternate between Isha and Priyanka.

  • Having included the remixed song, casting Kareena Kapoor as Kamini was a mistake, and her choreography, an even bigger one. She lacks the sensuality and grace of Helen in the original and turned a classic into something generic that the audience is likely to fast forward during home-viewing.

  • In the original Don, there’s this not-very-remembered scene when Amitabh prior to beating up Shetty, politely tells him — maaf karna bhai taklu, main jaantaa hoon ki shaam ko tum kisii se milnaa pasand nahiin karte ho, lekin main tumhaare sirf das minute lene aayaa hoon. Pehle paanch minute main tumhaari pitaayi karoonga, aur doosre paanch minute, tum mere sawaalon kaa jawaab doge. In the middle of action, this scene brings the chuckles. In the new Don the comedy just doesn’t feel right. The Chacha Chaudhary ka dimaag computer se bhi tez moment, the scenes before khaike paan banaraswaala and other such gags barely make you smile. Jokes that should have worked, simply don’t.

  • SRK is not good at double roles. Duplicate is the only other time he’s tried it and that was pretty bad as well. Here too, the difference between Vijay and Don is hardly discernable. Beyond the clothes and the token paan, they are the same person, same mannerisms, same brow-furrowing and all.

  • I understand that a movie shot in Malaysia, has to have at least one key scene filmed on the connecting skybridge of the Petronas Towers. Admittedly it is a cool-looking structure and I am not complaining about how many scenes it appears as a backdrop in. But how can someone walk across a precarious thing like that without stumbling and falling at least once? I mean c’mon people, I paid good money for my thrills! and I want my moment where Arjun Rampal dangles precariously, while a scared kid goes ‘Day-deeee!’ and screeches to glory. And I was denied my happiness. Bah.

And now, to wrap up this neverending post, some general observations and lessons in film-making, that one has gleaned from the movie —

  • Whenever a Russian character is mentioned in a Hindi movie, his name is Boris.

  • Nothing denotes a scene shift to India like a bullock cart. Some other movies indicate that a grubby street kid can also work well for the same purpose.

  • Reversing the order of characters in unencrypted passwords is what ‘computer experts’ get paid big bucks for. IT professionals across the world should rejoice at this pat on their back.

  • Chunkey Pandey has remarkably enough, managed to retain his stupidity from his mera dil totaa ban jaaye, kaise mitthhu mitthhu bole haaye days. As the bard would have said, if he’d been alive — Chunkey is not Chunkey which alters when it alteration finds.

So, bottomline — the new Don is slick, fun, timepass and cool. But the new Don cannot exist without the original. Which, being an acknowledged tribute, makes sense. I guess a truly balanced review of this movie would have to come from someone, who has never seen or heard of the original Don. Heh heh. Aise aadmi ko pakadna .. yes, say it with me folks .. mushkil hi nahin, namumkin hai!

(Yes peoples, we are alive and kicking on the blog once again. One shall stop being a lazy bum and start responding to comments. Random disappearances shall also (heh, hopefully) not happen. Apologies and all. And hope the length of this post makes up for our recent absence.)

Monday, October 30, 2006

In which NTR forgot his underpants

The concerns about my well-being have been pouring in. While I am hugely touched (no, not in the head, although that too, is true), I am also a wee bit confused. You see, the concern is not about why I vanished from my blog. (Although, to be fair, a few people noticed that too. Much thankoo for caring.) But instead it is about why I have taken to writing pointy posts. (Um, non-pointless?) Apparently going gaayab on my blog is not such a crisis but non-dysfunctional writing from me is a sure reason for alarm.

Of course, frantic citizens of the blogosphere are running amok with wild theories. (We’re a bit full of ourselves, you say?) Have the aliens returned? Has this blog been taken over by her good twin? Has she been listening to Daler Mehndi? Has she been watching too many repeats of NTR‘s Honda-man .. er .. Superman video in which he does PT exercises with Jayaprada, while he looks for his underpants? (Many thanks to Deitadi for introducing us to this gem.)

(The answers to the above questions, by the way are, no, nah, not over my dead body! and oooh yess!)

But worry not, my dear readers. However impossible it may seem, the Tin Man can have a heart, the Scarecrow can have a brain, the Lion can have courage and Dorothy will eventually get home. And seeing as it’s fall, she’ll be back with a ton of pictures for y’all. (Ooh, that rhymed!) Oh and some more gushy-mushy writing that’ll have you calling the paramedics. But until then, be the good readers that you are, say ‘neinn readddyyy’ in your best Jayaprada voice (Is she even a Reddy?) and sing with me —

Soooparrr-maaaannnn .. <la la laaaa laaaa laaaa> ..
Soooparrr-maaaannnn .. <la la laaaa laaaa laaaa> ..
Sooparrr-maann .. <laaa laaa> ..
Sooparrr-maann .. <laaa laaa> ..
Sooparrr-maann .. <laaa laaa> ..
Sooparrr-maann .. <laaa laaa> ..
chika chika bum bum chika jaa bum bum ..
chika chika bum bum chika jaa bum bum ..

Very good. Now, while on the delish topic of desi Supermans, here’s the classic from Dariya Dil (1988). (Greatbong readers will find themselves in familiar territory with this one.) Starring Govinda as Superman (check out the hip-n-happenin’ faded blue outfit and mismatched boots), Kimi Katkar as Spiderwoman (ooh, so many digs, so little time), a distraught couple and even more distraught goons who double up as ceiling fans.

There. Scare factor and cheesy costumes nicely in place. Now I just need to get into the spirit, put on my Spiderwoman costume, and exit with the traditional stomp-out-the-ants-in-the-grass-and-shake-shake- my-bum-while-I-wave-wave dance that Chichi and Kimi perfected. Oh yeah, that reminds me — happy Halloween, everyone. Boo!

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Jangal mein mangal

Are you single, feel like a Pringle, ready to mingle?
Or do you skulk in a corner like a wrinkle, wondering if you are Hangal?

A reader of ours remarked on his blog, that he is reaching the age where his hitting on women makes him, what I have referred to in the past as, the ‘lecherous A K Hangal type’. Since I have been made out to be some sort of expert on the matter of lascivious geriatric men, and I love being an expert on matters, especially those that I know nothing about, I decided to make a quick checklist for the denizens of the blogosphere. So, if you ever look in the mirror searching for the Hangal in you, this will help you find him.

  • Have you tried to get a refund on hair regeneration products recently?
  • Do you feel like the oldest person in any group you are with? Even when you meet up with your parents’ friends?
  • Have you addressed at least one person as arre betaa in a quivering voice, in the last week?
  • Are at least three of your friends married? Do at least two of them have kids? Does at least one of them have an annoying wife/husband who perpetually tries to set you up?
  • Are you lately, beginning sentences with a hamaare zamaane mein .. ?
  • Have you shrugged your shoulders and philosophized about the inevitable ignore/rejection by a girl with a — honii ko kaun taal saktaa hai?
  • When you asked a girl out, in the deathly and awkward silence that followed, did you find yourself muttering in your mind — itnaa sannaataa kyon hai, bhai?

Now this is obviously a checklist for men, so don’t start crying foul about a gender bias. He may be antediluvian, but Hangal is very much a man. A virile stud-types of his days, even if that was a long, reeeally looooong time ago. If you’re still having doubts, think of all those jawaan betiyaan who eventually became the bojh of his boodhe kandhe. They didn’t appear out of nowhere without Hangal indulging in some jangal mein mangal, did they? So there.

So, if you nodded yes to at least half the questions, chances are, when you got all nouveau-Bollywood, and trooped off to Goa for the weekend with two of your buddies, intending to have a Dil Chahta Hai (2001) moment, you more likely had a Shaukeen (1981) moment instead. Shaukeen, by the way, is a tender tale of three geriatrics who go to Goa, try to hit on Mithun’s girlfriend and have their butts kicked. (If they got their butts kicked, their tail will understandably be tender, no? Heh heh. I am so easily amused.) But really, it is a sweet and fun movie by Basu Chatterjee. Do watch it. Lovely music too, by R D Burman. Incidentally, today would have been Pancham’s 67th birthday, had he been alive. If only. Sigh.

Okay now, for the sake of giving this post some respectability, let us conclude with an interesting trivia question for you all. Hangal has been the oldest character in pretty much every movie that he has starred in. He’s the resident paidaaishi budhau for as long as Hindi movies have been around, almost. But but but! (No, not the jurassic ones that Mithun kicked.) There is a movie in which Hangal has a dad! Imagine that! An actual on-screen dad, who addresses Hangal as beta. Any guesses, which phillum? And who be the dad?

The correct guesser will get a free pair of dentures.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Photoblog : Baseraa

Baseraa
Baseraa
Somewhere around home
Boston, Massachusetts

Don’t you love it when you accidentally take a nice looking picture? Yep, this was one of those. Point, click and whee! And then, a not-so-sudden moment of realization happened that I haven’t posted a photoblog in some time, so here I am, making amends.

The title of this post is also a Gulzar-written movie from 1981 starring Rakhee, Rekha and Shashi Kapoor, with lovely music by Pancham. Do you remember a Chitrahaar/Chhayageet moment where a zombie-like Rakhee is walking around in a garden with Shashi and a little kiddo? The kid tugs at her pallu and nervously asks her — jahaan pe saveraa ho? and Rakhee replies nuh-uh and continues to sing in a very high-pitched Lata voice — jahaan pe baseraa ho, saveraa vahiin hai. Did that moment scare you enough to never watch a Rakhee movie again? Did it, did it? Yesh? Well, this is that movie.

Hope you like. The photo, I mean.