I've been lucky enough to realize many dreams in life, not literally but literary-ly (pun intended ;). Most of the stories that you will hear from me (in the future) are basically dreams that I've had and ergo have more pinches of magic realism than my 21st century real life will ever have.
I just finished watching the film Delhi 6, and even whilst inching closer to the climactic mish-mash I was contemplating this blog, which some of you would take as a lack of interest in the film, but it wasn't ... but let me go step by step.
First of all, I believe Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra and I are on a similar wavelengths since I am more than certain, his stories are dreams he has had, or his ciphered dream scenarios, and I appreciate such an approach to literature. However, the medium this story has been told through isn't quite so much the written word ... but moving images ... and instead of creating cinematic excellence, the famed director of Rang De Basanti has whipped up some kind of unrecognisable pastiche (hodge-podge - just to clarify what I mean).
I, however, happen to like such pastiches.
Dulled by the poor response the film received, I watched it with Zero expectations. From scene one on though, I was very pleasantly surprised. In for a fair amount of humour, I enjoyed the sometimes subtle and sometimes not so much references to the confused, atavistic culture that I've grown up in, the culture of the middle-class of Delhi-6 to Delhi-27 to Delhi - 35 and on and on ...
What I didn't enjoy though was the fact that I sounded like a Hyena because I wasn't laughing continuously. Laughter came in spells ... since it was intertwined with spells of grim reality parturition-ing Karuna Rasa ...
My second very concerning problem was with the music ... also a pastiche ... The Soundtrack mostly by Rahman is really good, keeping up with current trends of the peculiarly new and un-fermented music ... Kudos to that.
The problem begins when the film starts using music from Babel, Chocolat, and Cinema Paradiso (unsure about two and three) ... whichever films the tracks might be from, they are exquisitely recognizable ... and its very unsettling to suddenly hear them, struggling to compliment the rushes of this foreign land.
I fleetingly noticed the reactions prominent 'so-called' critics have had to this film. None of them have the balls to reject the film completely considering they are all still reeling from the intoxication caused by Rang De (not quite worthy of its place in the film world according to me) ... and also, because the film does send out some pretty sweet social messages.
To me however, this film was a dreamy, diet-flavoured experience. It had some moments of extreme likeability and some others that were almost ... repulsive.
If there is one thing that I would remember always about the film ... it would be, its new-found map of the world. A love stricken protagonist wakes up or arises from some somnambulist-ic state to find his two world merging together. He sees his familiar 'Lady Liberty' joining him in the Delhi-6 landscape he is still discovering. In the following song the idea continues with his two worlds merging and his life becoming a yummy sundae with new york in chandni chowk or chandni chowk in new york ... they even rhyme, don't they.
Agreed, the graphic visualization isn't very tasteful. Considering they were bouncing between Amreeca & Indeea, one could have made the concious choice of presenting a refined dream scenario ...
But may be, ROM had a reason for the choices he made ...
However, I don't think there can be any excuse for the split second angry monkey face ... and certain other tiny things.
And of course, the ending. *sigh* ... I think it was the ending of the film that made me forget about all its niceties ... just like Rang De
My best to Rakeysh Mehra ...
please don't forget to feed my fish at the bottom of the page. you just have to click on 'the aquarium' and drop their food.
4.3.09
1.3.09
Sweet November
At times I've felt I've a weakness as well as a flair for grief. If there is a love story I cherish, for most part it is bound to be a grievous one ...
To be honest, on any given day, sane or insane, if you ask me what my favourite love story is, the answer would probably be 'Jane Eyre' ... I've been reading 'Jane Eyre' since I first started laying hands on books of that calibre, probably around 12 years of age or so ... I cannot be sure, considered I am always the last to discover life and all that jazz, as compared to my peers.
I've read 'Jane Eyre' a number of times, about the same number as the age when I first read the book. I've read both abridged and non-abridged versions and been equally pacified reading the story each time I read it ...
In College I realized that the book was part of my curriculum in one of the three years and upon that realization I consciously or sub-consciously avoided going to the "Jane Eyre" lectures ... I did happen to go once ... and I faintly remember the professor preaching about some god-damned perception of Mr. Rochester's manic wife ... Never again did I go to those lectures ... I was happy with my understanding of the literature ... In fact, my understanding of it was acutely dear to me ... for some bizarre reason I felt completely and utterly yet incomprehensibly attached to the protagonist Jane, I felt a kinship to her ...
And this ... despite having never been in Love.
I still believe I have never been "in love" ... the closest I came to it, vanished even before I could label it as 'love' in my dressing drawer of incorrigibly shaped relationships.
Today, I declare love and respect for another such ... ... Sweet November
I would like to believe that I have seen the film, every time its on television and every time I watch it, I can hear my heart breaking for the two lovers ...
A excellent story of love, its initial pangs, its full fervour, its pain, its untoward turns and in the end its remnants ...
A remake of the 1968 Sandy Dennis and Anthony Newley starer along with a hint of 'Love Story', the film was (according to me) unnecessarily thrashed as contrived and
" ... Manufactured as a Valentine Day's date movie, this anachronistic doomed affair will be dismissed by most critics and its only chance to survive is if its target audience of indiscriminating female teenagers would flock to see it; PG-13 rating should help, though basically it's a one-weekend movie. "
Whatever and However it might be for the critics and reviewers, who I believe are probably zombie-d and jaded from having seen TOO many films ... I couldn't resist falling in love with the story ...
I couldn't help but feel the pain when Nelson, Sara's Sweet November finds out that Sara is suffering from Cancer. Despite having been with Sara for solely the month of November he falls desperately in love with her and asks her to marry him ... only to find out about her grave illness ...
Sara has her reasons to have hidden the fact from him ...
In the time between finding out about Sara and deciding to pursue her regardless, Nelson thinks ... he thinks about her ... and as he stands thinking, at the beach with his back towards me ... I cannot but help bear witness to a glimpse of what it must be like to be absolutely in love.
In the end, when Sara sends him away standing atop a bridge, pleading for his memory of her to be beautiful and for him not to go through the pain ... of watching THE lover die ... I cannot put the pain in words ...
and when Nelson lifts the veil Sara has put on his eyes to eclipse her escape, and reveals his somewhat unnatural yet tear-y eyes ... *sigh*
... and today, I feel a special, incomprehensible, passionate and deep kinship to this story!
To be honest, on any given day, sane or insane, if you ask me what my favourite love story is, the answer would probably be 'Jane Eyre' ... I've been reading 'Jane Eyre' since I first started laying hands on books of that calibre, probably around 12 years of age or so ... I cannot be sure, considered I am always the last to discover life and all that jazz, as compared to my peers.
I've read 'Jane Eyre' a number of times, about the same number as the age when I first read the book. I've read both abridged and non-abridged versions and been equally pacified reading the story each time I read it ...
In College I realized that the book was part of my curriculum in one of the three years and upon that realization I consciously or sub-consciously avoided going to the "Jane Eyre" lectures ... I did happen to go once ... and I faintly remember the professor preaching about some god-damned perception of Mr. Rochester's manic wife ... Never again did I go to those lectures ... I was happy with my understanding of the literature ... In fact, my understanding of it was acutely dear to me ... for some bizarre reason I felt completely and utterly yet incomprehensibly attached to the protagonist Jane, I felt a kinship to her ...
And this ... despite having never been in Love.
I still believe I have never been "in love" ... the closest I came to it, vanished even before I could label it as 'love' in my dressing drawer of incorrigibly shaped relationships.
Today, I declare love and respect for another such ... ... Sweet November
I would like to believe that I have seen the film, every time its on television and every time I watch it, I can hear my heart breaking for the two lovers ...
A excellent story of love, its initial pangs, its full fervour, its pain, its untoward turns and in the end its remnants ...
A remake of the 1968 Sandy Dennis and Anthony Newley starer along with a hint of 'Love Story', the film was (according to me) unnecessarily thrashed as contrived and
" ... Manufactured as a Valentine Day's date movie, this anachronistic doomed affair will be dismissed by most critics and its only chance to survive is if its target audience of indiscriminating female teenagers would flock to see it; PG-13 rating should help, though basically it's a one-weekend movie. "
Whatever and However it might be for the critics and reviewers, who I believe are probably zombie-d and jaded from having seen TOO many films ... I couldn't resist falling in love with the story ...
I couldn't help but feel the pain when Nelson, Sara's Sweet November finds out that Sara is suffering from Cancer. Despite having been with Sara for solely the month of November he falls desperately in love with her and asks her to marry him ... only to find out about her grave illness ...
Sara has her reasons to have hidden the fact from him ...
In the time between finding out about Sara and deciding to pursue her regardless, Nelson thinks ... he thinks about her ... and as he stands thinking, at the beach with his back towards me ... I cannot but help bear witness to a glimpse of what it must be like to be absolutely in love.
In the end, when Sara sends him away standing atop a bridge, pleading for his memory of her to be beautiful and for him not to go through the pain ... of watching THE lover die ... I cannot put the pain in words ...
and when Nelson lifts the veil Sara has put on his eyes to eclipse her escape, and reveals his somewhat unnatural yet tear-y eyes ... *sigh*
... and today, I feel a special, incomprehensible, passionate and deep kinship to this story!
Sweet November
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