Back2Back: Review Corner

PK
Aamir Khan and Rajkumar Hirani? Well, ideal expectation is a cinematic swagger. The end product is almost perfect, but isn’t the Christmas cake with all cherries and pies though.
What made other Raju films strike a chord with audience (Munnabhai, Lage Raho, 3 Idiots) was them being very close to reality and yet deliver brutal syndromes with sublime affection. They were not cacophony but drew us to the edge of the seats with simplicity and morality of life. PK, amongst all cheers, derails on this benchmark. But does come out with extraordinary moments and a powerhouse performance to stay large.
An alien sans clothes, ethnicity, language and complicated human trilogies, creates questionable situations wherever he lands and flirts with trouble in a fascinating turmoil. Most despise him, few dare to look at him and couple of them adored him. And that’s how, Jaggu and Sanju fit this palpable ride with the most unusual inhabitant of their worlds. One is a nobody but tries to be human, the other has problem of her own and is fighting with self, hoping to see a redemption that would entice sensibilities within a small little world. PK is probably the perfect stimuli to their incomplete lives and brings them to a world of his that’s defined by simplicity and devoid of human subjugation. He makes few to shed tears, brings many to their knees and vows all with his dose of ‘battery recharge’.
Such scripts are usually driven by 2 factors: lead actors and the director. Surprisingly, the director here supersedes the editor by few notches and I term it as the kaput of this plot. Couple of characters were wasted (not usually a Rajkumar Hirani attribute) and few scenes are mirrored from his earlier classics. Music is hummable; Shaan’s Chaar Kadam keeps my foot and heart tapping. PK is shot well, not overwhelming but keeps it to the stature. Supporting acts play around well, Boman Irani and Saurabh Shukla do their seasoned acts efficiently. Anushka as the bubbly and emotional Jaggu is endearing in patches. But her look in PK is probably the reason she will be adored. SSR has a cameo, and sticks to his sleeves.
Aamir Khan towers above all. His body language, expressions of being in an unknown land, framing people about their reason of existence in a manner of an infant who has lots of questions for this world and sharing his moments with people who found joy in his cherubic anecdotes – I was completely floored. He has been evolving as an actor, and PK places him in a pedestal of some fabulous legends we have seen in the world of Cinema.
PK – Precariously King.

Haider
When it comes to great films, I expect to see conflict in interests and perception, insatiable urge to achieve glory amidst ruins and oscillating ways of human relationships.
When it comes to Vishal Bharadwaj films, I expect just one. Awesome-ness. And Haider, is a marvel in the zone of the wannabe.
No one toys with Shakespeare as much as VB has explored the genre, and a menacing plot with lust and deceit can never overcome the bludgeon of human intracacies. VB brings in all in this steaming saga of a la Hamlet in the heart of a land which is considered to be the mother of all graveyards – Kashmir.
Kashmir is a long standing battle that burns more everyday. More importantly, there are people who survive and make money when the flames are higher and harder. Haider is born in a stable of hatred and conviction, thus learning that they are the only kinds of people living in this world. The plot is his story, and the symposium is the apocalypse around Kashmir where humanity dies every hour.
I think to be drawn with comparisons with Hamlet itself would be a crime, as they are separated by centuries and withstood by generations. Yet, the context, logistics and monstrous intentions around the epic in both versions remain unhindered. The agonising lives of thousands, the betrayal of their own, the dwindling hopes of a nation splattered in the blood of innocents and a waging war that is fighting their own demons. Haider has his own tale in a web woven out of drastic proportions.
VB’s protagonist is guilt and best ally is hatred. The sibling then, has to be vengeance. All characters belittle each other’s conscience to battered glory, and blood galore.
An uncanny resemblance to an iconic Maqbool is quite inevitable. Though, Haider has it’s golden moments. The mother-son moments, his fathers narration of his desire to avenge the infidelity of his brother and the haunting background score – all distinguish fragments of Haider’s soul.
Kay Kay Menon is quite understated, and Irrfan Khan sizzles in his cameo. But the winner is the mother-son duo. Tabu sparkles in a performance where men are meant to be frontrunners. Truly, she remains one of the most underrated actress in tinsel town. Shahid Kapoor is brilliant as Haider. He whims, drools, broods and perspires in a pit of vicious urge and tyranny.
Haider isn’t the best of the trilogy, but still manages to delight with grit and gross reality.

Saturday Corner: Finding Fanny

Rustic characters, naive intentions, fake prejudices, 5 human beings treading a path of nullified emotions, desires and smallness. Finding Fanny isn’t your run of the mill, next door 2 and a half hour maroon. It’s celebrating human discoveries.

Set in the ever gorgeous Goa, FF renders the laziness of the island amongst few individuals who are basking in deterrent glory of their self devoid barriers. A widow with a cavalier attitude, a postman who unravels his love story after 46 years, a pretty young lady who loses her husband and desires minutes after her wedding, a painter who embodies lust over artistic colours, a young lad who searches for life after losing his girl to his best buddy. The best thing about each of them is their hidden fiascos of life. Or rather, the lack of it.

Homi Adajania strikes the right chords while he oscillates between the tangled lives and frivolous lives of the mean people he tries to broadcast in this conjugate tales. The beaches, the low lying yet ambitious sensibilities and the chemistry of malicious emotions take us through the rugged paths with immense flavour. His characters are not conventional, but they certainly are plucked straight from our unearthly lives. Its seldom that we realise such poignancy with ominous flair.

His casting is the brightest here. What else can we expect when 2 fine actors come together with 2 ravishing women and a young lad with loads to flaunt?

Naseer is at his usual whacky self, Pankaj Kapur is crookedly brilliant and Deepika Padukone makes our jaws drop as she blinks beautifully through the Goan ranches. Arjun Kapoor does well to creep in this ensemble drama with sumptuous humour. Dimple Kapadia, I must say, looks awful in her mommy act here. Not her performance though but she does need to become a tad slimmer to ensure we can say that sharing screen space is indeed a reality (no pun intended though!).

I loved this short, turbulent yet enjoyable journey to find fanny, and ourselves.

Lots, and coming in..

Has been a good and hectic time of pandora around with glitz and curiosity in equal measures.

No, not because of Germany’s triumph but for the vanquished ones. Have always been an admirer of Albiceleste since school days and those sentiments probably stick around. Not to mention, I played ‘pada’ football during much of my younger days and have some fond memories from those packet sized foul mouthed haute. Days of such ignorance and yet so blissful ! Loved the world cup though, some interesting matches with the seldom class that hovers around the big match players and the vital games. Though 1.30 IST hurt, but got through with little hiccups.

Went through some invigorating movies to laud myself. Bit of weaver stuff as my appetite for versatility keeps growing :).
Feeling about money and making money are 2 very different things in life, 2 such films played a frivolous penchant to my bickered thought process.
‘Wolf of Wall Street’ was a Scorsese chaos with a stunning collage of characters woven in dollars, drugs and pussy. It had a rawness about the protagonist, not to mention his incredible ability to persuade and destruct his instincts with an insatiable orgy towards the inimitable greed.
Oliver Stone’s Wall Street is more sober, yet punches in intrigue with oodles of human tussle that involves ego, deceit and vengeance through convulsive relationships. Yet again, greed is a component that emerges as a human parasite. Extinguished but never withers away to defy a comeback.
Though a Scorsese patriot, Stone’s Wall Street was more real in terms of pudding versus pie tussle.

Lot more happened, and I could just about remain reclusive as work treated me as its host with lot to unravel. And, continues, that is.

54 CW glories, the pinnacle at Lords and the nadir in Manchester, Djokovic’s Wimbledon triumph, Hockey India’s march till Australia put paid to the illuminating hopes.
My Blu-ray orders that never erodes away, Calcutta’s rain which defines intermittent oscillation through our mandate chores.
WWDC was more mellowed to replenish our expectations, iOS 8 means less as much as a device that would pour more that intends to carry 8 with aplomb.
Apple is all set to end my wait for a 5.5 iPhone, hopefully it transcends to a kettle of revolution that once made my 4 flaunt with incorrigible pride. It still remember my stores saying – ‘the days of iPhone 4 were an absolute chaos, and few around knew what an iPhone would do for them in the next few years’. Do I say more? Don’t think I have to.
I must say that Samsung Note 4 could tease the next iPhone (not as much as Google Glass did to re-imagine our tech tooth) but I would like to see an overhaul for the latter.

My in transit relationship with a voice over awaits in the next few weeks, and am waiting for an even quicker backlash. For now, if that gives you reason enough to sit through for my next.

Tale of four cities

Lawrence of Arabia
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056172/

A pedigree of class and indulgence, this Academy de noir was a spectacular voyage. More than half a decade later, it still ranks high amidst world heritage stuff. Gloriously shot, it captures the glitz of sand and vivacity of the deserts with enormous thirst. The lengthy golden traits, the exquisite sights of crawling camels under divine sunsets, the marauding Arab camps and the ever pretentious Whites in their game of philandering supremacy. The wit versus hoard through bilateral landscapes unfold in a fashion of a classic entrepreneur wielding his own fortunes. A hungry and a dramatic adventure, LoA reminds me of the vintage era that basked in sumptuous glory and plethora of elegance.

Iruvar
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119385/

Perhaps, Mani’s finest yet. The cinematic hordes within a gamut of political and devious velvets, it brings the sliver screen in a breathing grasp of the mammoth Gulliver. Though the tag line of ‘not a true story’ is almost a paradoxical hunch, the script is so evidently intense. Aided by brilliant performances and a powerhouse background score, this sweltering script often acknowledges applause and awe in the same planet. Though panned by critics for obvious reasons within the territorial hinges, this remains to be a gutsy product in the world of Tamil and Indian cinema.

The Lunchbox
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2350496/

Human relationships are probably the most intriguing of all, you can write and talk all day but the sensibilities continue to elude you.

This AK production mystifies the age old enigma with a touch of nostalgia and a heart of gold. The backdrop is the quintessential Mumbai dabbawalas who become the messengers of a strange interlock that wields in to a fountain of deceit and redemption. Extracting terrific performances from it’s lead actors (Irrfan Khan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui), it governs your senses through heart wrenching moments. It takes away less, but returns a galore of humane traces that guilds through kettle drops.

Jatishwar
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3365690/

Post Ritu da’s departure, I felt that a vacuum was fielding Bengali cinema that has survived generations through a fierce conjunction of story telling through poetry and literature. I can see an evolution, Jatishwar took my vibes seriously.

Sreejit’s baby, it has loads to garland upon. Manoeuvring between traditional folklore and contemporary compositions, it manages to stitch the legacy with it’s tame shadows. Though the characters have earlier references and script itself is no stunner, the treatment is quite engaging. For a musical, the scores and rendition could have been a notch higher but couple of soundtracks continue to sing around me. Performances stand out. Prasenjit delivers another scorcher (doesn’t surpass his Baishey Shrabon jigs though!) and Jishu gives a terrain performance. Some valuable actors have been wasted and the leading lady was a frown. Yet, I will take this one with the yolk and the egg for the class-o-vein.

Random, again.

Long time coming but good things usually a take a turn while the next is due within the ballet☺.

I probably have too many things under the platter but chose to exclaim while others decide amongst themselves.

Leaders on a prowl as the nation await yet another swagger from our elected blade. Not a great political aficionado but certainly want a nation with a better person to lead, crunch and mess as required (not necessary to be in the order prescribed!). Hear shouts and slogans; want them to speak with actions and whips (for a change). Like all, I wait to ponder.

IPL begins yet again, oops. Well, let’s talk something else now.

Past few weeks have been quite endangered, and relatively dull. Not sure why and how, as these sensibilities do not proclaim to be my pals often. Yet, lived them with a sitter of an attitude, and helped blessed connotations regain control. Grained, weather conditions, people change, culture changes, small battles with little gain, souring temperatures (in and out), gloated path ways and a light at the end of the tunnel. Truly, quite impressive, I must say.

Worth mentioning is the field day I had with my boys in a cricket field after hiatus. Battling sapping heat and handicapped self, it was fun to be crackling again with whims and crooks. I relived my younger days with prejudices of a known specie and was worth a million smiles.

A visit to Sikkim was meant to be a rocker and we didn’t disappoint ourselves. Rather, would have chosen to succumb to my premonitions and advertise the Sikkim sojourn in to helm the impact on a brighter paradigm. The week was a bygone with flourish and a great memorabilia.

Keep flushing the pages and I will be right back.

Nation’s Notion: Review – Midnight’ Children (A Deepa Mehta Film)

As a nation, we have transcended and befell before rising amidst tumultuous weathers. Freedom in 1947 is alright, but the transition was as beleaguered as the nation itself that was standing amongst perennial ruins. The sacrifices were largely destructive; the indelible impressions of such are still fighting the storms, till date.

Deepa Mehta dwells India from the darker blemishes to the brighter convoy. We, as a nation, have evolved – socially, economically, financially, and culturally. But we have never managed to rise above our inhibitions that remain to be a colossus out of pervasive root. Talking of roots, I am fond of them. But if they are a form of parasites living upon the bricks of incessant atrocities, I tend to shy away with discretion. Well, I probably, am dating back albeit numerous episodes but Midnight’s Children does have an anecdote of a marauding legacy.

It begins with the times of legions when women are morally and physically, living in captivation of human taboo. It’s more of a defining statement at a time when a nation lies embedded in its own tatters and is crawling its way out of debris to attain rejuvenation. We have always been a country with so much inside our cultures, and introspection reveals stunning facts; facts that are often so unacceptable but are immersed within and continue to wager around in inexplicable overtones. The hidden magic and their exponents of the wavered art are depicted with rustic beauty and roll over syndrome. It peddles around 2 gruesome partitions that tore the nation apart, and juggles between the immediate pre–post-independence that threw the nation in to a post traumatic celebration of freedom from known devils.

In accordance, the film is a reflection of our conjugated manifestations and the seeds that were sown amidst precarious monsters and selfish brilliance.

The performances are closely stitched with the script and sways between the eras of baffled poignancy. All play in with nuanced and restrained acts and held their own.

If freedom is what we celebrate each year, it remains unaccomplished. Yet.

Note: this has been lying in my archives for sometime now and I have been struggling to catch up with time, delayed but don’t think will disappoint my readers!!