I'm so embarrassed!

I've just been re-reading my posts (you know I'm procrastinating on some important stuff if I'm playing on the internet with my blog) and I've found several grammatical errors, including but not limited to incomplete senteces, incorrect word choice, and unclarified phrases.

I'm so sorry. I'm especially sorry that, now that I've found the errors, I'm just too damn lazy to go back and correct them.

Shall We Dance?, (1995)

No, it’s not the one you think it is. It does not star Richard Gere, Susan Sarandon, or J. Lo. It’s the predecessor to the American romantic comedy, only done much more, well, likeably. I mean, no offense to Hollywood, but the remake tried to substitute all the charm of the Japanese original with too much glitz and glamour to make it even remotely as enjoyable as this film.

The story’s not difficult to follow: workaholic Shohei (Koji Yakusho) is lured into a dance studio by the unhappy woman gazing out of the window nightly. Mai (Tamiyo Kusakari), an accomplished professional dancer, reluctantly teaches ballroom dancing (mostly to lecherous old men, which definitely contributes to her unhappiness). Although Shohei joins because of his curiosity about Mai, he stays because he loves to dance.

But dancing – well, there’s some problems with sticking around. For starters, his wife begins to suspect an affair; there’s also the general embarrassment to be suffered if his coworkers discover his hobby. But in Japanese culture, as the movie (and my flatmate) explain, it’s unusual to see physical contact in public. In fact, most married couples won’t even hold hands. Still, it seems a subculture has grown up around ballroom dancing, and characters young and old, and with all different levels of quirkiness, are drawn in.

It's a shame that the Hollywood version copied this film nearly frame for frame, only exaggerating as they go along. This film really depends on its “smallness” – facial expressions, a few lines of dialogue, a glance here or a gesture there – to move the story and develop its characters. And instead of teaching pop stars to dance the waltz, they took professional dancers and made them actors. I can’t comment so much on Tamiyo Kusakari’s acting skills (all I can say in Japanese is ramen and pikachu - oh, language barrier, you'll be the death of me), but her posture is ridiculously good.

There’s really nothing stellar about this film, but that’s why I like it so much. It’s about one man’s realizations, one dancer’s rediscovery, and everyone else’s support/acceptance. It’s not life and death material, and the filmmakers know it.

I really should look into lessons. Ballroom dancing movies are quickly developing into my new favorite sub-genre. If you’re like me, you’ll most likely enjoy Strictly Ballroom or Mad Hot Ballroom (I’ll pass on Dancing with the Stars: reality television can’t be good for your health).

Hey Ram, (2000)

Kamal Hassan takes a controversial topic and handles it in a controversial way - hence we have Hey Ram, the most powerful Bollywood movie I have seen yet. Never has a film been both so hard to watch, and so hard not to. Partition, Hindu-Muslim relations, Mohandas Gandhi and an explicit reenactment of his assassination - the film runs the gamut. Its focus is on humanity – even the Mahatma is portrayed as a real person who jokes and complains and everything.

The film contains a lot of graphic content, but nothing worse than what Hollywood spoon-feeds American viewers. There are two sex scenes, a dramatic rape, and violence – a lot of violence.

Primarily, though, Hey Ram follows the psychological journey of Saket Ram (as told in a series of flashbacks by his grandson). It opens with the archaeologist on a dig with his friend and coworker Amjad Khan (Shahrukh Khan); they are told that the site will now be in Pakistan, so they must go home.

Ram returns to Calcutta and his Bengali wife, Aparna (Rani Mukherjee), who he had married against his family’s wishes. In their brief scenes, it is apparent that Ram and Aparna are “very much in love” (read: very frisky). However, when Ram goes out to buy food later he saves a girl from a mob and returns home just in time to witness his wife’s brutal rape and murder (which is shown in a frighteningly realistic manner). This sets off Ram’s killer instinct and he goes on a killing spree, showing absolutely no mercy. The next day he is unable to come to grips with his actions, and joins a group of Hindu extremists, more out of a sense of despondency than anything else. He is influenced the most by leader Shriram Abhyanker (Atul Kulkarni – extra creepy), who redirects Ram’s hatred towards Mahatma Gandhi.

Six months later Ram remarries – Mythili (Vasundhra Das), a girl that his relatives chose for him. Mythili is young and lively, a sharp contrast to the hollow, emotionless shell that Ram has become. Somehow she kindles a little affection, but Ram only sleeps with her under the influence of drugs (in his hallucinations, her body becomes a large gun). Ram is still involved with the extremists, and when Abhyanker is paralyzed in a freak accident, it becomes solely Ram’s responsibility to assassinate Gandhi.

Ram leaves his wife and family and goes to Delhi to wait for his chance. A couple of close calls and a lost weapon lead Ram to his old friend, Amjad (and by this point most viewers will probably have forgotten that Shahrukh was even in the film, it’s that engrossing). Amjad is a fervent admirer of Gandhi, and while trying to escape a riot the two spar about their disparate religious and political views. Amjad is the voice of reason, and only when Ram recognizes that Amjad is still his friend and brother does he begin to change his mind.

This film belongs to Kamal Hassan in every way – it was written, produced, directed by, and starring him (he’s even listed as a choreographer and playback singer). It’s plain to see how this actor is the consummate artist in this film. Although he takes creative liberties with history, he leaves enough ambiguity to let viewers come to their own conclusions. Shahrukh Khan nearly overpowers his own charisma to give his most understated, realistic performance to date. Rani Mukherjee excels in her small role. Hema Malini, Atul Kulkarni, Vasundhra Das and Om Puri also do well with the parts that they have. Naseeruddin Shah is absolutely unrecognizable as Gandhi – thanks to makeup and great acting, he actually becomes his character.

The most complaints about this movie focus on its violence. However, I feel that this film probably pales in comparison to the actual violence that occurred during this period. The special effects, although many were well-done, were a little self-indulgent; I felt that they dumb-downed the movie for most viewers. A third of the film is devoted to Ram’s love stories (both with his first wife and for his second), and while I feel that it is important to show how his love for Aparna and her rape and death forged Ram’s character, the second love story could have been greatly reduced. The film runs a little long even for a Bollywood movie, but gives one the sense that you can’t even blink for fear of missing something. There is probably very little to appeal to the masala-craving masses; a light-hearted, breezy entertainer it certainly is not. It was a task to watch; an emotionally overwhelming film that is the first movie in a very long time to move me to tears.

The Hero: Love Story of a Spy (2003); Soldier (1998); Dillagi (1999)

I’ve watched so many movies lately that I’ve decided to give you a special treat and bring you three reviews and once. I am proud to present: Sunny versus Bobby – Deol Smackdown 2005! Which Deol will come out on top?

Let’s start by examining The Hero: Love Story of a Spy (2003), starring the elder Deol brother. While this movie is essentially a Pakistan-bashing, violence-driven, incoherent waste of time, it is impossible to deny that it is entertaining.

While the movie does not need a plot, the producers decided to throw one in for kicks. Sunny Deol plays Major Arun Khanna, India’s top spy. Apparently, “spying” in India is synonymous with Halloween in the United States – the job consists of dressing up in costumes and makeup and doling out treats to villagers and tricks to baddies.

Sunny Deol as Jesus.

Sunny Deol as Prince Charles.

Sunny Deol as Alec Baldwin.

After successfully halting one of Amrish Puri’s evil plots, Khanna is sent to Kashmir to mimic an army officer. Enter irrepressibly cute shepherdess Reshma (Preity Zinta), who helps Khanna foil terrorist missions in the village. In return, Khanna pays for her education and buys her clothes and jewelry (can you say sugar daddy?). Eventually, it turns out that Reshma is exactly who Khanna needs to foil Amrish Puri’s next dastardly plot, and she is sent across the border to spy. Of course, the best laid plans go awry and Sunny eventually has to rescue Reshma from hordes of Pakistani soldiers, apparently using her ass to shielf himself from gunfire.

Soon after there’s a celebration and Khanna announces his engagement to Reshma and they sing and dance about it. Their happiness is short-lived, however, as terrorists attack the party. Khanna lives and returns to work as a spy, while Reshma washes up later in the movie. Khanna goes to Canada and, in order to continue foiling Amrish Puri’s plans, romances and marries Dr. Shaheen Zakaria (Priyanka Chopra), who in a “shocking” coincidence is also helping Reshma rehabilitate (really, is anyone even remotely surprised?). Because we, the viewers, know that Reshma and Khanna will end up together eventually, from the moment Shaheen and Khanna marry we know this isn’t going to end well for poor Priyanka Chopra. And it doesn’t – there’s a climactic shootout involving trains, mountains, helicopters, and more Canadians than you could shake a stick at.

Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming:

It's no pants o'clock!

Back to you in the studio.

While this movie is a blatant Paki-basher, it’s unabashed about it, unlike and of J.P. Dutta’s (Refugee, Border) work. This film is also one of the most expensive films India has ever produced, meaning there is no lack of eye candy (except maybe the hero department) whether in the scenery, the costumes, the dancing, or even the ridiculous spy stuff.
1998’s Soldier, like The Hero, stars another Deol and the same Preity Zinta. This mostly-amusing thriller is from Abbas-Mustan, the underwold-connected duo directors that also brought you similar ridiculous-but-still-enjoyable-movies such as Baadshah and Chori Chori Chupke Chupke. Soldier, like The Hero, also has an irrelevant plot as an excuse to show Bobby Deol cozying up to Zinta and shooting bad guys mercilessly. It also is sure to incorporate some of the greatest Bollywood clichés ever: orphan exacting revenge, over the top violence, Johnny Lever, boy annoying girl until she loves him, and not one, but two suffering mothers!

The movie opens with the important exposition – three corrupt army officers steal the guns and supplies they transport in order to sell them to the enemies, killing the good army officer who tries to stop them. They manage to pin the robbery on the dead guy, but his widow and son staunchly believe in his innocence. Thus the woman is sentenced to a life of suffering, whereas the son is destined to exact revenge for his father’s death. Of course, son is also destined to fall in love with daughter of bad guy (all of this goes without saying, really). A few car stunts, brutal murders, dogs with bad hairstyles and other assorted hijinks later, Bobby does, in fact, kill everybody except the mothers, Zinta, and, unfortunately, Johnny Lever.

This movie exceeds at two things I previously though were mutually exclusive in a film – excessive violence and excessive goofiness. Throw in a few danceable tunes and whammo! Bollywood entertainment, Abbas-Mustan style. Although I found The Hero ultimately more entertaining (because of its slicker cinematography, better comic relief, bigger doses of angst, etc.) Bobby Deol is easier on the eyes than his older brother (because of his slightly less gravity-defying hairstyle.

Look, it's got WINGS.

Of course, the real test of Deol versus Deol is Dillagi (1999), which stars both brothers and is also Sunny’s directorial debut. Not only is the plot borrowed from the Hollywood classic Sabrina, but many of the songs are blatant ripoffs of American riffs such as "Mony Mony" by Tommy James and the Shondells (later done by Billy Idol as well) and Jimmy Sommerville’s "Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You." Unfortunately, the DVD is only sparsely subtitled meaning that I had to rely on my recollection of Sabrina to determine what was going on and then I get distracted by plagiarism. Great.

For those of you who haven’t seen Sabrina, Dillagi, or Sabrina’s earlier Hindi remake Yeh Dillagi, the film is about two brothers – one is all work (Sunny as Ranvir) and one is all play (Bobby as Rocky). Of course, they both end up falling for the same girl (Urmila Matondkar as Shalini).

Although he agrees to a marriage with a girl from his village in Punjab, Ranvir sees Shalini at a stoplight and she intrigues him. Later he sees her sing and dance at a function and he proposes marriage to her family. At the same time, Shalini attends school with Rocky, and they hang out together (to plagiarize songs, I guess). Despite warnings from her cousins and classmates, Shalini falls for Rocky, who treats people like toys and important things like “love” like games. She tells this to Ranvir, who lets her go. When she makes her love known to Rocky, however, he flips the shit. Heartbroken, Shalini eventually starts to see Ranvir again, while Rocky slowly realizes his love for her. When Rocky learns there’s another man in Shalini’s life, he flips the shit again and vows to kill him. Too bad I can’t explain further, but at this point the subtitles decided they had better movies to translate and copped out completely. It all boils down to a climactic moment when Rocky finds Shalini at a restaurant with his brother and flips the shit again. Eventually somebody ends up at the hospital, one brother reneges on his love, and Preity Zinta shows up again to console the loser. Happy ending for all.

You'd be better off finding the Audrey Hepburn version. The subtitles are probably a lot more reliable, and "Mony Mony" hadn't even been written when it came out.

In the end, it is clear that Sunny has more talent than Bobby, but loses in the looks department. Quite frankly, I’d rather have a non-acting chunk of eye-candy than either of these hairstyle-challenged fellas any day. In the smackdown, I am the only clear loser, having spent nine hours watching them when there are so many pictures of Arjun Rampal on the internet in need of downloading.

Bachke Rehna Re Baba, (2005)

A woman's sexuality is a powerful thing. I learned this when, wearing the right combination of short skirt and tall boots, I caused a fender-bender in Manhattan. Of course, whether a woman uses her powers for good or for awesome is up to her. However, Bachke Rehna Re Baba is unusual because it showcases two awesomely sexy actresses playing two awesomely sexy women, all of whom seem to use their powers to create a genuinely awful movie.

For starters, the film stars two of the most attractive women in Bollywood - the evergreen Rekha and the "bold" Mallika Sherawat. It's difficult to decide who comes off worse in this film. While Rekha's acting skills are superb and she manages to look sexy even in the most colorblind, frumpy outfits, the role is utterly banal. Mallika has more of a chance to excel and expose, but manages only to do the latter. It's sad to see that she has such a pretty face, and yet uses her body as her most valuable asset (because, unfortunately, her acting skills aren't doing much for her).

The film follows an aunt-neice con-artist team, Rukhmini (Rekha) and Padmini (Mallika). Rekha traps rich old men in marriage, while Padmini seduces them into adultery, just in time for Rukhmini to catch them. Sound familiar? It's the same old story of Heartbreakers (2001). Of course, Padmini would rather split, but Rukhmini persuades her to do one last con - trapping an NRI in Mauritius. Paresh Rawal, Satish Shah, and newcomer Karan Khanna, nephew of Vinod and cousin of Akshay and Rahul.

The film has too many loose ends that are never resolved. In once scene, Rukhmini says that the money they con goes to settling her father's debt, a debt which is never explained or even mentioned again. Also, supposedly Rukhmini and Padmini were originally intended to be mother and daughter, but changed to aunt and niece. I think they filmed some important scenes before this was changed, which makes for an uneven ride.

The only positive part of this film is its title song, an enjoyably danceable tract. Rekha takes to the microphone for one number ("Eiffel Tower"), which proves to be the most annoying part of the entire movie.

My primary concern is this: Why did Rekha, an evergreen icon of Bollywood, do this film? In an industry where Amitabh Bachchan is earning acclaim playing a variety of roles, and where Govinda and Anil Kapoor still play heroes, why is an attractive, fifty-one-year-old actress with so much acting skill and star power in a role like this? She's just as capable of playing a sign-language teacher or doctor or orphanage director or something at least mildly intelligent and interesting. (BTW, Govinda is three years younger than Rekha, and Anil Kapoor is four years younger).

Categorize this one under "painful to watch."

Dinosaur vs. Elephant; Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony vs. Jenny Lewis

Yesterday was interesting in that I went to not one, but two concerts, both being incredibly different. Two very different live performances of two very different types of music makes for one awesomely awesome Saturday.

Firstly, saw a matinee performance by the New York Philharmonic. Although Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony was the headliner, I found myself captivated by the preceding sextet by Francis Poulenc. Although defined by the woodwinds and held together by the piano, the French horn was, I felt, the strongest instrument. Of course, I've always been partial to brass, being a euphonium kind of girl myself. But the French horn - how warm it sounded! How buttery! It was delicious. Woodwinds turn me off - they're far too cold for me. The horn was the sunlight to their silvery slivers of sound.

You might have realized that I envision sound in quite a different way. The same thing happened in a different way after the intermission. Tchaikovsky's fifth is supposed to be something about faith, written during a short time while the composer had retreated to the countryside. But nothing said "nature" to me, nor "fate"; during the entire piece I was imagining an epic fifty-minute battle between a dinosaur and an elephant. The elephant won. He had guns.

After a scrumptious vegan dinner at Zen Palate, I headed to Irving Plaza to see Jenny Lewis perform with the Watson Twins. She was preceded by Whispertown 2000 (which was cool but the lead seemed either really really wasted or really really nervous) and Jonathan Rice (who would have been good if he had sounded less like Jonathan Mayer and more like something original). Jenny Lewis, of course, was awesome, mixing it up with some upbeat tunes and a few real downers. Being the headliner, I thought she would play a longer set, but she did do a considerable encore. Jenny's music is something along the lines of soulful gospel/country/pop, with a voice that can send chills up your spine. You may be familiar with her without knowing it - she's the lead singer of Rilo Kiley, and that's her singing along with Ben Gibbard in the Postal Service's "We Will Become Silhouettes."

Irving Plaza, by the by, is an awesome venue. I just wish I weren't damn short.

Finally!

Oh, how lovely to have a blog of my very own. I expect to transfer all of my livejournal posts here forthwith.