Archive for the ‘Movie Reviews’ Category

I love old movies…


2009
12.08

And continuing with my new-found interest in old movies, I watched An American In Paris last week and I must say, the film is a complete carnival!

And not in a good way. It’s as if MGM (the studio) took all their best dancers, musicians, costumes and sets and poured them into this one production, and finally ended up with a garish extravaganza with an ill-conceived plot, half-baked characters and some very forgettable songs. In fact, the characters have been reduced to dancing machines, much like Hrithik Roshan in the Hometrade ads.

You can’t peel your eyes off the man’s anatomy, which has a mind of its own. But the product and the characters and the plots are all a blur. Leslie Caron is wasted, except for her exquisite ballet, which the movie greedily laps up at every instant. She is one of my favourite actresses, so impressive in The Glass Slipper, Lili and Gaby, and adorable at the ripe old age of 69 in Chocolat.

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Talking movies


2009
12.01

I recently met someone who loves talking movies; a regular guy who is neither a film-maker nor a critic, but appreciates films with a vengeance. It reminded me of the films I grew up with. So, on a whim I downloaded Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and chuckled at Dick Van Dyke’s shenanigans, for the 100th time.

But I realised two interesting things about the film, when watching it as an adult. This kiddie tale was penned by the creator of James Bond, Ian Fleming, and the screenplay was written by one of my favourite authors, whose work I read as an adult — Roald Dahl.

I was 10 years old when I saw it last. Yet, every scene played out in my mind’s eye, split seconds before it did on screen. Kind of like an echo. Sigh.

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Becoming Jane


2009
11.09

The Costa Coffee at Green Park sprung a couple of surprises. The fellow behind the counter who took the order communicated with his colleague rather efficiently, in sign language. As the latter prepared my takeaway, I walked towards another trooper who was whipping up a cappuccino. He motioned towards the sugar and the stirrer, his oriental features breaking into a smile. Then he communicated in sign language with the guy behind the counter, for the next order. It was a smooth operation, smoother than most in these parts.

On a different note, I watched Anne Hathaway sporting a somewhat awkward, somewhat quaint British accent in Becoming Jane. The movie gains momentum as it progresses. But all romantics be warned, the story ends on a rather heart wrenching note. Sigh.

What is most interesting though, are the similarities between the characters in Pride And Prejudice and Jane’s own life. Jane Austen’s mom is constantly fretting about her daughter’s marriage a la Elizabeth Bennet’s mom. On the other hand, Jane’s father is proud of his daughter’s literary prowess and agrees that she must marry for love, and not money or security, merely, a la Elizabeth Bennet’s father.

The wealthy Lady Gresham is a woman of means, pride and arrogance, as is the wealthy Lady Catherine De Burgh, a woman of means, pride and some arrogance. They say that Mr Darcy’s character was inspired by Jane’s real-life love interest. However, the former is a little uptight and wealthy, and the latter is a regular Don Juan who is poor as a church mouse.

Nevertheless, a heart wrenching, sweet film, about love and it’s complexities.

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Johnny Castle, dead. Sniff.


2009
09.15

In Class 8, I wanted to order a copy of Dirty Dancing from the local video library (VCR format!). My mother who paid the video tab did not approve; the title was suggestive, and not appropriate for a 13-year old. But to give her credit, she did not deny me the movie. She  screened it, first, by watching it herself!

Now, this could have worked against me. However, it passed muster because this particular copy was probably the most censored copy of DD in all of the Middle East!

So, I got to watch it, and till date it is one of my favourite films. When I mean ‘favourite’, I am talking about that category of films one can watch a million times.

I reviewed the Indian rip-off of Dirty Dancing titled Holiday, a very inferior, ill-conceived and shoddily made copy of its American prototype.

Today, I feel sad that Patrick Swayze is dead. I watched three of his films, Dirty Dancing, Ghost and City Of Joy, and loved him in every one of them, and it is not merely because I am a fan who digs brawny dudes who move like swans. He brought a certain sincerity and innocence that contrasted perfectly with his rugged looks, and gravelly baritone.

Sniff.

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Kaminey Ki Jai


2009
08.15

I would definitely like to sit through Kaminey, all over again. This flick paces itself at the beginning, gains momentum and climaxes with a mighty crescendo. Most critics have discussed that the film is reminiscent of Tarantino’s style, and how old Bollywood wine of two brothers in arms, is edgily recast in a new bottle, and yada yada yada. The performances, music, dialogues were par excellence.

But what most people seemed to have missed – and this was instantly picked up by my pal Himi – are the subtle but electric homoerotic vibes between Charlie and Mikhail, right from the moment they commune with joy after discovering a cocaine-filled money-bags guitar, to grooving in a nightclub in psychedelic lighting, to Charlie breaking down in tears when Mikail is shot, to the finale when Charlie flirts with dropping guitar, drugs and potential money bags, into a raging fire, but finally succumbs only after spotting Mikhail’s corpse, stacked in the front seat of a jeep, but not before letting off a grief-stricken howl.

Maybe we are reading too much into this relationship. But then, maybe not. Bollywood tends to shout from the rooftops when making movies about gay people, and what you have is cliché, humour in bad taste, and brazen publicity stunts. But if our hunch is true, we must applaud the director on this subtle coup.

After a lousy morning of too much food, too little sleep and too much surfing, the film proved to be a great watch, and lifted my spirits, completely. Folks, you gotta watch it.

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Meryl Can’t Dance!


2009
08.12

I finally watched that terribly tacky musical called Mamma Mia! starring Meryl Streep in the lead role. The lady has won several Oscars, but dear lord, she cannot sing!

The worst song in the film, is most definitely Streep’s rendition of The Winner Takes It All; she wails like a banshee and gesticulates so wildly to long lost love (Peirce Brosnan), it’s almost embarrassing! At this point, I must say that Brosnan looks his usual drool-worthy self, but dear lord, he must not burst into song, either.

70s costumes were funky, not  frumpy. But here we have just frumpy. And the dancing…pure indulgence, as Simon Cowell might say, mercilessly.

Anna Seyfroid is a favourite and she’s brilliant in Big Love as a troubled Mormon girl who struggles with dad’s bigamist lifestyle, but in this film, the girly avatar just doesn’t fly.

The cast bursts into song at the drop of a hat, but even though I shall love Abba songs eternally, the music sequences in the film, besides being mostly terrible, seem very forced, unlike in ‘Across The Universe’, a musical trubute (and work of art) to the The Beatles.

Well, save for a song by Christine Baranski, who sings about being seduced by a younger dude as she is being seduced by a younger dude. She plays Streep’s fiesty middle-aged cougar friend, who has had four  hubbies and several plastic surgeries.

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Talibanisation Of ‘Gone With The Wind’


2009
08.11

I finally watched Gone With The Wind, once again after more than a decade. I spent many waking hours devouring the book during my school days, in the quiet confines of the one and only loo at our flat in Darsait (Oman).

Pop highly disapproved of my hogging precious loo time, to read those ‘novels’. Incidentally, the cousins from my generation in mom’s side of the family have a penchant for spending many hours reading in the loo and under the covers in torchlight at night, whilst everyone in the household is asleep.

So, we watched the movie once again, on a DVD by BIG entertainment (that Zee brand).

Well, guess what? All the most passionately charged scenes between Scarlett O’Hara (of the 16-inch waist) and Rhett Butler were edited out of the piece!

It reminded me of the one and only Oman TV, the lone channel available in Muscat during the 80s, before satellite television changed our lives. When the hero makes love to his leading lady, we would get to see a video grab/ photograph of flowers, usually roses.

And coming back to censorship in today’s era, damn you BIG.  Talibanisation of this classic is in bad taste.

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‘Love Aaj Kal’ is one tedious piece of work!


2009
08.05

Saif Ali Khan overacts and Deepika Padukone hams her way through most of the film. But the new girl who essays the role of Harleen, brings some relief to this never ending, insipid journey parading as a new-age relationship.

Initially, we thought she was model Diana Penty aka her flawless complexion. But we discovered from the credits that her name is Giselle Monteiro. I told my pal Bips, that Giz must be a country cousin of mine from Loutolim, a very pretty little village in Goa, the home of several Monteiros.

But it turns out that she is a Brazilian model, playing a Punjabi village girl! But then Brazil and Goa are fellow Portuguese colonies. Kudos to the director for keeping her background top secret before the film. The rest of the film…not so much.

Having said that the premise isn’t so bad: love in today’s era versus love in the days of yore. But the treatment of the former is very…ummm…clinical…making the two protagonists seem robotic in the way their emotions and reactions, pan out. In a nutshell, love in today’s era is commitment-phobic, and young people have trouble expressing their true feelings, which is somewhat true, I suppose. But unfortunately, the exploration in the film is reduced to a series of clichés.

Chic clothes and fancy locales, don’t lend the plot any soul, though the films has a few moments that seem real.

Saif makes one heck of a sexy Sardar, and the older love story is endearing. But I’d say, watch this one on DVD, if you feel the need to watch it at all.

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Remembering MJ


2009
06.28

Post a long day of mindless travel (because we never made it to two of the destinations on the itinerary), I ended up in a cosy little lounge bar called Moet’s in Defence Colony, Delhi. The food was yum (lamb shanks, Lebanese kebabs ‘n’ more tenderloin lamb), the mojito did not have obscene amounts of sugar, and the ambience was the kind that allows you to hear yourself think.

The DJ was spinning his tracks in a corner. We reminisced about MJ, and how we felt that DJs ought to be spinning tracks by the king, and bingo, a track from Dangerous started playing. The timing was surreal. We reminisced some more, and eventually got the cheque. We paid up. And as we got up to leave, the DJ moved on to Hotel California. The timing was surreal.

On a different note, I recommend Moet’s to all lounge lovers. It’s better than Zenzi’s and Shiro’s, and lightyears ahead of Capitol, a disco at The Ashok Hotel. And yes, every placed I have ever partied it in Las Vegas as compared to Elevate. By the way, I also recommend ‘The Hangover’. It’s both funny and clever (thought sometimes borderline gross). The humour isn’t slapstick, which was a relief.

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Pub trek


2009
06.07
Star Trek

The new Star Trek proved to be a thrilling, entertaining watch. Zachary Quinto who plays Spock , is edgy and a bit of an unconventional dreamboat. His love interest in the film, turns into putty, every time he experiences an emotion like pain or anger. Initially, Captain Kirk tries to seduce her, but eventually the player doesn’t get the girl. Get the hint, people?

A crucial guest appearance of the man who plays the original Spock and who is now in his 80s, cast as an older version of himself in the film, was a stroke of genius, and no doubt has made Star Trek junkies absolutely thrilled.

My favourite scenes in the film are the creation of black holes in the universe. Visually, it’s breathtaking and overwhelming a sight to behold, watching an entire planet crumbling into nothingness in a matter of seconds (though the implications are tragic, because entire civilizations are also being destroyed in seconds). Imagine watching the effect in 3D.

Delhi has a Hard Rock Cafe, finally. And by virtue of being able to listen to some rock music, a welcome break from Hard Kaur, makes me give it some brownie points.  There’s no entry fee. But the bartenders looks overworked and it’s hard for even a hot looking gal to get their attention. Sigh.

But there’s a little nondescript place called The Living Room, a little hole in the wall, that’s been converted into a no-frills, yet, casually stylish pub-lounge-disco. The dance floor area has a shiny disco ball suspended from the ceiling, the stairs leading up to pub are painted a bright hue and lined with candles. The crowd is Boho, though my pal Al smirked that when the lights come on he saw hobo, not boho!

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