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What's wrong with self-congratulation for godsakes? That's the word that's routinely thrown in with the Oscars. It's the time when big bad Hollywood gathers for an orgy of self-congratulation and you can detect a deprecatory undertone to it as if self were something not worth congratulating.

This year's Oscars were billed as the global Oscars. About time. It took close to two decades after globalization was pumped into cultural arteries of the world for the Oscars to become global. But the New York Times dispproves in an article titled "Old Line Hollywood takes back the night." And here was how the obligatory word got introduced :


Last year the industry was a bystander at its own party and was probably left to wonder how an event conceived for studio self-congratulation had been kidnapped by a bunch of people who couldn’t get a good table at Ivy if their lives depended on it.

See here, it's the big studios doing self-congratulation. As against the indies and globals. Talking about the directors award, the article throws in another obligatory saw: establishment.

It was less poignant than telling that these four men, Mr. Scorsese included, were onstage together, having become what they once assailed. They are the establishment, and they are not ready to cede the field to a moshed-up world of indies and global filmmakers.

Probably the irony was lost on New York Times, itself a big bad establishment of old line mainstream media barely hanging on in the age of internet and blogging.

I had always thought self-congratulation was the word liberals used to dismiss this archtype celebration of decadent capitalism but look here what National Review has to say about it:


Ellen DeGeneres’s opening monologue was, even by the watery standards of Oscar intro monologues, pretty weak. By making the theme “celebrating you” (as in celebrating the nominees), she pretty much openly admitted what I suggested in my article Friday—that the Oscars are little more than an opportunity for Hollywood’s power set to engage in a round of luxurious, public self-congratulation.

Dang, that self-congratulation again and this time from the conservative antithesis of NYT. The author depicts a grim and graphic portrayal of that self-congratulation in another larger article:

On Sunday night, Hollywood will roll out the red carpet and rev up their limousines for the 79th Annual Academy Awards. The four-hour long nationally televised ceremony gives us what is perhaps Tinseltown’s most honest depiction of itself — by which I mean the most glitzy, ditzy, and shamelessly shallow. At their core, the Oscars are a way for the movie industry to publicly congratulate itself for its brilliance and generosity — for really, who needs attention more than movie stars?

Thus, each and every year they lavish themselves with a night of $40,000 gift bags, super-stretch Humvees, and dresses that cost more than your home. They fill a stage with theme-park quality set-pieces and find a host who’ll tell corny jokes that flatter the industry’s top players into thinking they have a sense of humor about themselves. They trot out starlets barely old enough to have graduated from college wearing enough jewels to pay off the national debt. It’s as if someone gave a high-school dance committee a Trump-sized fortune, a network TV deal, and a massively inflated sense of self-importance and said, “Go all out!”

What self-congratulation ! If only Hollywood got rid of it and got serious, it would have come up with another kind of results, one that would make his cosnervative soul happy. Like this:

That’s why American Film Renaissance (AFR) intends to provide some balance. The group “was created to spearhead a revival of timeless American values in film and to serve as a forum for voices and ideas often marginalized or denigrated by the contemporary artistic community,” and today it releases its own movie poll. Not surprisingly, the results are somewhat different from both the critical mainstream and the awards-season standbys.

The Pursuit of Happyness, a serious but uplifting drama based on a true story about a down-on-his-luck salesman (Will Smith) who becomes a stock broker, took the top spot in two categories: Best Movie and Best Hero. Border War: The Battle Over Illegal Immigration, placed first in the Best Documentary category, and the raucous comedy Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhastan was voted Best Time at the Movies.

To each his own.

Isn't it time to recognise that these people want their own kind of show to happen otherwise it's all self-congratulation? Which probably it is.
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Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

The CIA is messing with my mind. I am sure that's why I watch and keep watching stupid movies even when I know what will be in them. Like Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind which I watched last week, having nothing better to do. The movie was so transparent I could see through its shenanigans even before the movie ended.

This paranoia about CIA messing with minds has yielded plot points for many a feature film and novels now. The earliest novel I can remember is Shapes of Sleep by J.B.Priestley, the usual lib-trash. And there are a raft of movies from The Cell to Deja Vu and not too mention, Goodbye Lenin. Well, it's not just the CIA but the paranoia of the Brotherhood always starts and ends with CIA, so when we mention CIA you can also include capitalism, greedy corporations, police investigators and any other appurtenances except the Welfare Department.

The Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind tells the story of a man whose girlfriend has not only left him but also has erased every memory of his using a chipper technology which can erase selective memories. Feeling aggrieved, the man wants to erase his own memories. Surely a technology which can selectively erase memories should be a state of the art technology. But, the first thing you notice is that it is offered by an unknown company staffed by members you can count on your fingers and generally gives you the impression of being a garage start-up. Meaning, this sort of memory manipulation is di rigeur.

The man is told to collect every little thing that might remind him of his girlfriend and destroy those signs and then take a sleeping pill and sleep. During the sleep, the technicians will do their stuff and when the man wakes up, he won't remember his girlfirend any more, not even that he has requested the memory erasure. The technicians who do it are very irreverent about the job and even have sex while they are at it. The man is subliminally aware of their conversations and his subconscious decides to put up a fight and hide his memories where they will not look for them. Elsewhere, his girlfriend still dimly remembers the romance and as the erasing operation is doomed to failure, you know the lovebirds will be back together.

The man then is your typical garned variety liberal and the woman is his utopia. No matter how hard the explosion of corporate greed tries to erase the memories of the utopia from people's minds, our brothers will fight hard to keep the memories alive and once the memories are in tact, they can always get back, the tiffs don't matter. Do not give up the dream of the stateless utopia just yet. Keep dreaming.
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Dreamgirls: Not so dreamy

January 25th 2007 07:20

Dreamgirls is a broadway musical adapted to screen after more than twenty years and like all such adaptations, it came with a dismissive anxiety about whether musicals can be still trusted as viable movie vehicles. I like musicals and I constantly wonder at a culture which has forgotten to sing.After all, song is the first form of creative expression but that fact is given short shrift in the age of reality tv and docudramas. If a character breaks into a song in the middle of a dialogue, we get embarassed. We need more reality than that.

I like musicals in priniciple. That is why when Dreamgirls opened to rave reviews, I waited to watch it with patient excitement. I had read all the reviews , dutifully saw the Jennifer Holliday video, to be prepared to compare it with Jennifer Hudson's performance and educated myself on the history of motown and Supremes. But, the movie came as a definite disappointment.

The problems with the movie is its director Bill COndon who earlier adapted Chicago for the screen and helms a movie for the first time here. He is one hell of an inexperienced guy. He places stunning song sequences in awkward areas nearly killing them. The much talked about And I Am Telling you I am not going was set in the make-up room in the Broadway show, but here it is placed on the main stage making it very awkward for Jennifer Hudson to bring out the same emotion. The movie has potential for drama, heartbreak and redemption but none of it shines through the maudlin presentation. The director cuts from scene to scene before the emotional impact from any scene could be fully extracted. It becomes a particularly bad parody of a musical; a movie where there are only songs and whatever story there is, is rushed over. That's a tragedy because there is a good story to tell. Neither does it help matters that the political commentary that Condon forces into the movie is strident and feels contrived.

Jennifer Hudson can sing well, there's no doubt about it. When she sings, she and the auditorium comes alive. But, in acting department she is definitely a fish out of water. Beyonce Knowles looks stunningly pretty and acts well too. I thought Eddie Murphy was too overrated and Jamie Fox quite inadequate for somebody of his billing.
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Night at the Museum


Night at the Museum was billed as an old fashioned action comedy but when I went to watch the show, I found the matter was more involved than that. Ben Stiller plays this frequently out of job dad whose ex-wife thinks that their son cannot handle any more "disappointment." So, he takes up this job as a night watchman at the museum of natural history. The museum has three ageing watchmen who are being laid off. They give him a thick sheaf of instructions and leave him alone. But they forget to tell one thing. Everything comes alive in the museum at night and create a mayhem unless controlled rather niftily.

The first night predictably goes horribly wrong. But, Stiller has to come over and again to the action, because daddy can't risk another disappointment for his son. So, he decides to learn to manage the waxworks come to life.

The movie clearly follows the same premise and pattern seen in Zumanji and Zathura but unlike them ties up its loose ends rather comprehensively if a bit slowly at the end. What is old-fashioned about it is that it is an appeal for unity. Ancient Europeans, Romans and Mongols have all to get together with the cowboys. It doesn't lay out for what but in a movie that looks at longingly at Sacagawea and pokes fun amiably at Theodore Roosevelt and imagines their courtship and union, it could only be for one thing.
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Hero


What do you do when you find a beautiful work of art with a rotten message at its core? Should you try to be balanced and detach the art part of the thing from its message? Or be repelled even more to see such effort going into the promotion of indigestible pablum?

I faced the same dilemma when I saw Hero. First, of all I don't like Matrix type of wire stunts and I do not like the so-called martial arts movies where the guys are cartwheeling in thin air. Hero serves up both these things with a ballerina kind of pretentiousness. I was put off by the whole thing. Except it's written well and technically one of the best plots I've seen in movies.

There is a Chin Emperor of China, who is bent on unifying the fragmented China at any cost. This puts him at odds with the smaller feudalities particularly the Zhaos. Three deadly assassins have sworn to kill him and they nearly succeeded too. As a result, our king doesn't let anyone nearer than 100 feet of his person and leads a lonely life.

The movie starts when a small local warrior called Nameless is brought to the city because he has killed all the three warriors. The king is curious to know how this happened and with every tale the warrior is granted an audience with His Majesty that is much nearer. Nameless tells him three stories and reached within ten feet of the King. Till now, the movie is a yawn but it suddenly turns when the king comes with a riposte. He doesn't buy the tales of Nameless and gives his own alternative version. Nameless is impressed but the king makes some mistakes and he rectifies them in yet another retelling of what happened. This criss-crossing of narrative is a brilliant strategy and holds you attention like a charm.

It now transpires that Nameless actually wanted to kill the King and has mastered a skill whereby he can kill him within ten feet, To get to that proximity, he beseeches co-operation from the other three assassins. Two agree to help him, even become ready to die to buy the audience for Nameless. One disagrees and says that the king shouldn't be killed.

It is this defection that causes a lot of friction in the story. The assassin who doesn't want to kill the king writes a calligraphic syllable for Nameless. Our Land, it says. No matter how cruel the king is he shouldn't be killed because he's trying to unite China.

It's now become painfully clear that this is a well-mounted, beautifully made propaganda piece about Taiwan. It both wags a finger at wider world not to interfere in China's "internal problems" and fantasises about the breakaway rebels laying down their arms as well. The makers are not unaware of the cost of this unification. If Zhao has to be taken in the consolidated empire, rivers of blodd have to flow. And yet, that's necessary because it banishes the artifical boundaries of the world. The King doesn't want to stop at unifying just the six fragments of China; he wants to abolish the borders of the rest of the world too and achieve One world.

As for my original question, my choice is clear. No matter how beautiful the film, one cannot accept this blatant, bloodthirsty warning from the idealogical zealots.
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Some of the best adaptations of literary works have happened in India, whose Hindi language film industry is nicknamed as Bollywood. Bollywood routinely picks up movies and novels from around the world and copies them without credit and usually end up mangling them. But, sometimes, just sometimes, they get it and end up doing adapatations that are better than the orginals they are based on. I do not know why. Basically, Hollywood almost always ruins literary adaptations. There is probably something in the methods of Bollywood that suits these works. Anyway, here's my list of 5 outstanding Bollywood movies which were adapted from literary works, that should rank as the best anywhere in the world.

Omkara based on Othello

No.5 OMKARA Vishal Bharadwaj's take on Othello is set in rural UP, where gun-toting gangsters fight with each other for turf control. Bharadwaj's adaptation is very close to the original, differing only in little plot details. Othello might look like a trite story today but this movie manages to convey the sense of fate and evil and tragedy by the end. Awesomely cast, Ajay Devgan is a revelation as Othello whereas Saif Ali Khan was more critically acclaimed for his Iago. Kareen Kapoor makes for a fine Desdemona.

N0. 4 SURAJ KA SATWAN GHODA The title means The Seventh Horse of the Sun, made on a low budget by Shyam Benegal, this movie is a based on a famous Hindi novel of the same name. It tells the story of a single afternoon when a young man relates to his peers stories of three women he had known before. Rajit Kapoor, introduced here, charmingly conveys the tale of a man who has succesfully developed a veneer of humour to mask underlying heartbreak.

Utsav based on Mricchakatika

NO.3 UTSAV. Girish Kannad's movie is based on an ancient Sanskrit play called Mricchakatika. But, Kannad fills his movie with so many extras and have them debate theory of aesthetics that this movie becomes a succesful example of making your adaptation say what the original never said. The movie is narrated by Vatsayana (the man who wrote Kamasutra), here a bumbly sexless man who frequents brothels to note down extravagant sexual acts. The brothel and the courtesan in it are exuberantly celebrated that this movie should put to shame any Moulin Rouge pretenders. The story tells of a courtesan Vasantasena's love for a poor, married brahmin boy called Charudatta. When the king's brother has his eye on Vasanthasena, the stage is set for a dramatic end. Classiest sex comedy ever.

No.2 CHITRALEKHA This Chetan Anand's classic is based on Anatole France's Thaias and is one movie which is perhaps much better than the original. France's story was set in Egypt and the times of nascent Christianity and Anand succesfully shifts it ot Budhist India. The story tells of a king who has fallen so much in love with a courtesan Chitralekha that he forgets all his kingly duties. Time for a monk to enter and confront the offending woman with her sin and duty to the kingdom. Meena Kumari who played the title role is perhaps the greatest tragidienne ever and elevates this drama to a level normally unseen in movies.

Pinjar based on Amrita Pritam's novel

N0.1 PINJAR. The title means Skeleton and this movie was based on Amrita Pritam's novel of the same time. Pritam, an anti-socialist is also the most well-known Punjabi writer. When this movie opened, the English language press in India quickly squelched it because it was made by a right-wing intellectual but this movie is filled with more humanism and sense of reconciliation than a liberal could have ever achieved. An Indian girl is abducted by a Muslim to settle the scores of a family feud, who quickly falls in love with her. Their tortured love story is set around the painful background of the partition of India when nearly 5 million people died. The movie has such a moral edge and raw beauty that I don't think it can ever be topped. An epic if there ever was one.
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The Departed

November 10th 2006 04:46
Blogging has been light this week. I am in one of those languorous moods when you pick a book and rustle the pages but not much happens.So,I cleared my table of all the books that I'd marked for reading and had half-read.They were weighing oppresively on me. Yep, to write a review here I pick up a book and read it from cover to cover. There were only two or there books which I had read much before I reviewed them here. I have a lot of backlog to cover, many books I had read already, wanted to review but couldn't. Probably, I''do start doing those.

The Departed, dir: Martin Scorcese


That said, let me write something about a movie I have seen this week, The Departed. I like watching movies but am no movie junkie. Which is a way of saying that I have seen but one Martin Scorcese movie before (Casino) and wasn't much impressed by it.

The Departed has got some very good reviews and great feeback from the public. Is it good? Definitely not a masterpiece but is much better than I expected. It's entertaining, to a
degree, if not for an overstretched climax and a poor romantic angle.

The story, adapted from Hong Kong hit Internal Affairs, is about two policemen in Boston, Colin Sullivan and Billy Costigan. Colin has all the right connections, the right credentials and the right demeanour. Billy hails from a family with multiple criminal convictions and has worked his way up with

nothing but a great determination to escape his family's shadow. At an interview for Boston State Police, Colin gets an easy welcome and quickly grows into

one of its star performers. Billy, on the other hand, is given a rotten treatment and is told he can't be a cop.

This class difference is constantly accentuated throughout and provides for a unifying theme of the movie which has two major tracks. Colin in

actuality is a spy erected in the police by the mobster called Frank Costello. Billy, on the hand, is made an undercover cop and sent to infiltrate

Costello's gang, which he does because of his family connections. The movie alternates between these two who have to spy on the people whom they work for and

foil each other's plans. As their jobs become harder and harder, they have to question themselves why they are there at all. Also, Colin's girlfriend is Billy's shrink, which provides for another unnecessary layer of dual contrast between these two.

As long as the movie glides on the opposite sides of the same intrigue, it is interesting. It is when this duality disappears and the two strands become one, the movie becomes slow and meandering and comes to a lackadaisical halt.

The Departed is planted in Boston, a place washed with the experience of the Irish immgirants. The problem though, is that the Irish angst depicted here looks dated and the class difference theme has become obsolescent. The fact that the movie would have looked stylish in 1970s doesn't help matters at all. I think why it garnered so many glowing reviews is because it is a reasonable thriller which satisfies the need for bullet-pumped, slang- driven excitement without offending the critic's sensibilties: the two leads are not "heroic" and the movie doesn't have a "happy" ending.

Jack Nicholson's Costello is suitably kooky. Supporting actors Martin Sheen and Mark Wahlberg, are on the mark. Matt Damon acts like he is reading to a dictaphone and vera Fermiga is probably the worst romantic lead I've ever seen.

Leonardo Di Caprio in The Departed


But, there is one genuine surprise the movie offers: the performance of Leonardo Di Caprio who plays Billy Costigan. He's being portratyed as an able discipile of Mr.Scorceses but it is he who shoulders the movie, not the director. I hadn't expected that from Mr. Di Caprio nor had I expected that I, who is prone to take the stuff that happens on the screen without getting involved, would start to care for his Billy so much as to hope that he would come through the whole thing alive.



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Notes on Hollywood Sequels

August 28th 2006 03:37
One hour into Pirates of Carribean: Dead man’s Chest I wondered whether I walked into the wrong movie. Nothing that was happening was making sense to me. There were new characters and new plot lines all around which did not have even slightest connection to those I remembered from the first movie. Then, the narrative settled itself and I began to enjoy the movie. The same kind of bafflement would be felt I am sure if you had watched The Matrix Reloaded or the Chronicles of Van Riddick or Ocean Twelve.

I am not piling up random examples of movies which belong to different genres. What they have in common is a successful well-liked first movie and the second movie which invariably gets bad reviews. More than that, the structure of the second movie which tries to build a mythology around the first movie rather than continue with the adventure. The characters instead of having fun are now part of secret society of all their own, full of connections and relations which we never given even the slightest inkling; they look at us from their lofty heights of a mock mystique;they have a hierarchy and history; when they speak to each other, it is with meanings embedded from their past and future which were never shared with us.

Unlike other franchises like Superman or Spiderman which are based on an existing literature and therefore, have to be at least minimally faithful to their originals, these new franchises were all developed by Hollywood itself. The story does not move forward as in the second set; it moves in circles. What they betray is that current generation of myth-makers of Hollywood are fed on the college-bred theories of myth and fantasy. They might for the sake of business deign to design a first movie that follows the conventions of a thriller but once successful will spin, jack and entangle their narratives into a closed loop of speculative fiction which they try hard to emulate. And lose fans in the process.
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