Kartikey Sehgal

Despite the presence of several journalists at the recently concluded Mumbai Film Festival (MAMI ) certain ‘disturbances’ have not been brought out well in the newspapers.
Since it is being talked about for its ‘seventy percent growth in delegate registration’, the behaviour of the delegates (more like a representative than a common movie watcher) must be brought out publically too.

For instance, Iranian director Saman Estereki came to the premiere of his film ‘Empty Chair’ with big and seemingly heavy bags on his shoulders. When the master of ceremonies (MC) of the screening–a woman who welcomed and introduced him to the audience—offered to help him with the luggage, he refused and spoke to the audience with all the luggage on him. He then raised his right leg to make a kicking gesture and we learned through an interpreter that he had been spoken to rudely and kicked out of accommodation from his hotel. Some audience offered to give him accommodation while some others discouraged and mocked him when he had difficulty conversing in the English language. “Thank you very much, we have come to see the movie now”, a man said loudly and others expressed their disapproval only in hushed tones.

At the premiere of the Japan-Taiwan film Torocco (Rail Truck), the producers were mocked by a section of the audience and nobody stopped them or asked them to behave. The MC, speaking in heavily accented English, made some judo actions to impress the audience and to draw some laughs.

The media has mentioned about the organisation of the festival; from the inability to screen the movies in the proper format to the delays in timings to the films being out of focus. The audience behaviour was equally abominable. Some members, including some film personalities, at times reserved an entire row of seats for their friends and colleagues who were expected to arrive during the screening of the film. “They appear more like gundas”, a festival-regular told me after she bagged one of the reserved seats since an actor’s friend didn’t turn up.  The theatre management employees did nothing to stop or discourage this practice and the audience seemed too meek to ask the actors to behave.

“I have paid 1000 to attend this festival”, an audience member shouted when a film director took time with his English language. Some others joined him and asked why the organisers don’t respect the delegates’ time. “The films have generally started on time and the speaker is not comfortable in English”, I remarked to an irked neighbour. “But why should our time suffer?”, he remarked. The film started after a seven minute delay and the irked member didn’t wait for the credits to roll up in the end.

As such there was no atmosphere of ‘serious’ cinema after the screenings of the films. Saman’s ‘Empty Chair’ was an exercise in metafiction in films that was noted at FIPRESCI (International Federation of Film Critics). What the audience got here was just the promise of a question answer round after the screening of the film. A few people I asked were happy to label the film as “interesting” or “tough”. As was the case in every film, the audience didn’t wait for the credits to roll up. Even the 1000 Rs member was missing.

If the organisation at FUN Cinemas can be marked for being clumsy, then the audience deserves an equal measure of blame for being discourteous to cinema; they complement one another perfectly.

“Indian culture is better than this”, Saman had noted well.

The premiere show of the Hindi movie ‘Dashavatar’ (Tamil: Dasavatharam) was among the better movie screenings I have attended. Atul Tiwari, who has penned the Hindi dialogues for the film, was polite and patient with the invitees and happy over the release of the movie. Some months back he had remarked that he was very eagerly waiting for the movie to reach across to the Hindi speaking audience.

The event was simple and solemn because limited people were invited for the screening. The media was given ample amount of time to ask questions to the actor Kamal Haasan and the director K S Ravikumar before the screening commenced. The Dashavatar team then welcomed the audience inside the theatre.

I was reminded of the premiere of the movie ‘Cash’ that was brimming with people. They shouted and hurled popcorn across the theatre and fought over the seats. They whistled at the girls on the screen and hollered at will.

The scene was repeated during the premiere of the movie ‘Victory’. The event was postponed by two hours and imported cheerleaders were made to perform ‘routines’ for the tired audience. The staff members of Cinemax were rude. After allowing people inside the theatre they asked them to relocate to the front seats to allow the “VIPs” to occupy the back seats.

Unlike the Dashavatar show where all invitees were equal, there were different levels of invitees at the Victory premiere. The ‘best’ of the lot were ushered into the ‘Red Lounge’ screen where all seats were cushioned.  The director and the actors went to this screen.

Lesser known celebrities occupied the regular screens with the non-cushioned seats. But they were awarded the back seats to differentiate them from the regular invitees. A popular critic requested the theatre staff to let him sit at a “good place” and managed with some pleading.

Dashavatar’s limited invitee scenario allowed people to approach and meet the movie team. This was a very different situation from the one I saw at the premiere of ‘Bride and Prejudice’ where the actors were armed with bodyguards to ward off hundreds of invitees. After the screening of the movie, I conversed and walked with actor Vivek Oberoi to avoid the screaming fans and make a quick exit. 

After the screening of Dashavatar, the audience clapped for the team that once again stood at the entrance to see off the audience. It was an equal affair. 

Actor Kamal Haasan with an admirer

“Snapshot of memories” or simply an awry screenplay? Nimesh Advani and Ipsita Bandyopadhyay think differently about the movie ‘Delhi-6‘.

“…there are so many characters and so many sub plots that I was confused where to look next…”

Nimesh Advani

Rating: ★☆☆☆ 

It’s very irritating when during a movie there is constant chattering from horny middle aged couples but its effect is reduced when the movie is Delhi-6. With an impressive and promising cast and direction by the popular Rakeysh OmPrakash Mehra, expectations are bound to be high. But after barely 20 minutes your desire to see some meaningful cinema starts fading away.

Abhishek Bacchan’s ‘Roshan’ comes to India with Daadi (grandmother) because she wants to die in her Mitti…sob sob. But Roshan gets extra baggage along with him in his fake American accent that should have been left behind (Watch out for him saying “Look Golden Deeerrrrr”). In Delhi he meets his typical family full of bhabhis, buas, and bachha party and two warring brothers (the reason for their quarrel is yet unknown…Still Researching). This movie is a journey of how Roshan finds his roots in Delhi and decides to settle here with the various caste issues and religious problems over a lot of snooker games with Rishi Kapoor. During his stay he meets Bittu (Sonam Kapoor) who is the female lead of the film but is hardly seen and, by the way, she also wants to become the next Indian Idol.

A lot of people want to do a lot of things in the movie; there are so many characters and so many sub plots that I was confused where to look next and in this Bhel-puri, as we may call it, the main issue of the KAALA BANDAR (Black monkey) is lost. There are many characters like the horny photographer, the roadside mithaiwala and the garbage woman but the director does not do justice to any of them. 

Not many people would be able to connect the ‘Ram Leela’ to the story of the film (whatever little there is). The screenplay of this film is disappointing and the sloppy editing does not help the cause either. For instance, Abhishek is seen spending more time with Rishi Kapoor than with his love Sonam  Kapoor and the whole romantic song ‘Rehna Tu’ is picturised on Abhishek and Rishi Kapoor during one of their snooker sessions. Amitabh Bacchan’s cameo in the end could have been avoided as it added little to the proceedings.

The only saving grace of the movie is the music by Oscar winner AR Rehman that is wasted on the film. The song ‘Masakali’ has become a chartbuster, not to forget ‘Genda Phool’ and many others but there are too many songs in the pre-interval period.

There are a few moments in the first half of the film that will keep the audience awake like the rumour regarding Kaala Bandar and people’s reaction on TV and the scene where the cow is giving birth in the middle of the road. Binod Pradhan’s cinematography is pleasant in the first half while we are discovering Delhi but soon the lack of a proper screenplay takes over the few positives.

All in all one starts finding the conversations of the horny middle aged couples more interesting than the movie!

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 ”Do we remember dreams/childhood memories clearly? But some events, images, sights, sounds, smells stand out.”

Ipsita Bandyopadhyay

Rating: ★★★☆ 

As in all forms of art, I repeat an oft-repeated argument: that there has to be freedom of form. I feel the audiences and the media in this country like only plot-based films and not thought based films. A repeated grouse against Delhi-6 (D6) is that it has no cohesive plot.

Is that even required? It’s a cliché perhaps derived from the fact that we love stories…and we are used to a clear message being derived out of a story. Just like my Math teacher in Class II, instead of clarifying the concept of addition taught me to recognize an addition problem in the exam by the presence of the word ‘altogether’. The result: a few years later, I actually forgot the difference between addition and subtraction till I was re-taught some basics.

The film is clearly in the form of vignettes- somewhat like a snapshot of memories from the writer’s past/ his experiences. Do we remember dreams/childhood memories clearly? But some events, images, sights, sounds, smells stand out. In this respect, providing context does nothing to add to the case of the film. D6 is a chapter in the life of Roshan Mehra. To my mind it didn’t matter whether he was a computer engineer or a college student before he came to India. He carried with him a sense of calm, composure and an unhurried manner. So why can’t we just assume that he was on a vacation? The soul of the film is something different- its message lies elsewhere.

I admire the director Raykesh OmPrakash Mehra’s (ROM) ability to translate feelings to visuals. If you watch his films carefully, you’ll feel connected to what he’s trying to depict. As though his thoughts have been translated by a secret code onto the screen and at that point, there’s a strong connect between the viewer and the writer. Pardon me a poor metaphor but somewhat like tuning fork and vibrating string in resonance during Henle’s experiment. I wish I had an example I could quote from the film to demonstrate this point. But I am sorry, it’s a feeling, very strong and resonating at the moment it hits you, but vanishes soon. This adds texture to a film, a certain je ne sais quoi (I know not what) very few works of art achieve- something you can read between the lines.

Many people I spoke to including the film reviewer of India’s leading news channel felt the Hindu-Muslim jhagda in the film was too ‘over-the-top’. This puts me off. Here’s a guy who’s trying to show us a complex problem in its infancy, where it begins, in a simple manner that one should understand. But the audience seems to demand complexity. Throughout the communal tension, the audience is prompted to smile at the absurdity of it all. That’s precisely the point Mehra tries to make. How politics can drive neighbours to madness within a community where religious syncretism actually is such a integral part of life that intolerance seems forced; it obviously is by the media, politicians etc.

In any case, if the film tried to show this in any more serious a manner it would have been banned/ embroiled in controversy.

I must submit that the expectations from ROM post the director’s Rang De Basanti (RDB) are more than sky-high. D6 is nowhere close. The music is brilliant but terribly placed. Very valid points. You came out of RDB feeling something very deep within. In my opinion, a large portion of that credit went to the superb acting by the cast and strong characterization which is lacked sorely here. Abhishek and lead actress Sonam hugely disappoint in D6. That does take away from the soul of the film. But not from the thought Rakeysh has presented. 

Also much criticized is the ‘filmy’ ending. There is a strong argument for showing reality in cinema. Which is that, in real life, Abhishek would have died perhaps. But is there any argument for not showing hope? That violence between communities living together may end when neighbours realize their follies and look into the mirror so to speak. It’s a simplistic but valid solution to show.

An interview somewhere said that the director would have like another month to complete the film. He should have been given that.

Ranjana Dave

A concert hall is home to an audience that is as varied as chalk and cheese. In a Kafkaesque moment, one can imagine a supermarket alley with all types of people waving from their shelves.

Let’s look at some of the audience species.

I-shall-look-arty-and-get-away-with-murder: Dressing outlandishly is their signature style. They are sometimes found hoarding Colaba Causeway’s entire stock of phlegm-shaped beads. Other specimens are draped in saris tailor-made for their marriage ceremonies. They simper and tell you that the seat next to them is taken; usually for someone who always fails to turn up. Alas, we never realise that until the end, do we? They may also need lessons in switching off mobile phones or using the silent mode. But what truly makes one abandon all hope of reforming this section and resign oneself to the classic forehead-in-hand pose is: Trring! “I am in a programme…hello, hello, yes, I am in a programme, yes, yes, programme, I will call you after I get back home…it will take some time, don’t worry, I will call for sure.” Note that the decibel level of the conversation rises and falls with all the delicacy of a Mozart concerto. Unfortunately, at the wrong time, in the wrong place…

My-head-is-empty-so-it-makes-more-noise-when-moved: They nod with a startlingly high frequency capable of baffling owls. This is accompanied by a look that suggests ‘I have attained nirvana by watching you float on stage’. One often begins to wonder whether their necks possess a special spring mechanism. One also speculates the quantity of Moov they use up every night. If there are head braces that help rectify such a menace, one shall be pleased to donate some to the needy.

I-was-born-at-Picasso-Nagar: They are the ones who interject with untimely and innumerable ‘wah-kya-baat-hains’ when the singer enters a pivotal part of his alap or when the dancer even begins an exciting tihai. Their compatriots are also to be found at less exalted events like Bollywood concerts, rock shows and so on. Members of this cult hoot and scream with a dazed look on their faces, as if they have been hypnotised into ruining their vocal cords. The sounds are generally made when the singer touches a high note and goes out of tune or decides to abandon all pretence of singing and begins to scream.

Exalted-but-often-bewildered: Such people have attained great fame and are at the top of their game. When they enter a concert hall, it can often set fanatical organisers on fire. Without a sliver of regard to the happenings on stage, the front rows are torpedoed into a circus. Flashbulbs pop, but they are not aimed at the stage. People are rushing to a point away from the stage. One often wishes to delve into the minds of the artists on stage during these trying moments and analyse their thoughts. To give credit where it is due, the exalted individual in question rarely wishes that his arrival be turned into a tempestuous welcome.

The alien minion: The category that is underdressed, and hence, underestimated. Without a striking persona to get them past zealous guards of the reserved rows, they languish at the back, squinting hard in order to soak in details of Radha’s undying love for Krishna. They may be the ones who really connect with the art, but their simplicity alienates them from the milieu. Sadly, they are perceived as the ghatis.

It’s been centuries since Shakespeare proclaimed, “What’s in a name?” But some have always been duds at arithmetic and can’t extrapolate.