Changing the Perception of Entertainment

Film: Inception
Cast: Leonardo Di Caprio, Marion Cotillard, Joseph Gordon-Lewitt, Ellen Page, Tom Hardy
Director: Christopher Nolan

Words are the cornerstones of human communication. Words define feelings, release emotions and convey thoughts. Words can sometimes be the definition of human intelligence. The history of words can very well be the history of the civilisation that begat them. Most words in languages we speak were created aeons ago. But there are also words that are coined everyday. We will discuss one of them.

A dear friend of mine saw a movie and declared that she had been satisfactorily mind-fucked. Smart-ass that I am, there was an immediate masochist retort. But then, I hadn’t seen Inception yet.

Inception is an idea. An idea that germinated in Christopher Nolan. One so personal he didn’t want his brother and regular co-writer, Jonathan, to share it. An idea so outrageous that you just cannot believe it. But one that’s compulsively addictive.

Within two minutes of the curtain raising, the main character has already declared that he can interfere with people’s dreams. Before that even sinks in you are dragged into a maze that never seems like unravelling. Like a video game with its many levels Inception takes you to dreams within dreams and then some more. And to keep track is not exactly the simplest thing in the world.

Which takes us back to our word. Inception is a total mindfuck. It messes with our dull minds. Dulled by years of manufactured movies, confected according to a formula that may have worked one time, served cold and bland like a Chicken Ham sandwich. It forces you to invest your 148 minutes in the Bank of Nolan and delivers a payday that dwarves the national lottery. It makes you think about the movie, while watching it and even afterwards. What a crime against popular cinema!

Do not look for deep messages and subtle nuances. Inception is entertainment. Period. Sure, it transcends what has been put out as entertainment. But to give it more credit is to take away credit away from the intentions of Christopher Nolan, who is a regular man of the masses. He just believes the masses have brains. And has been proving himself right, repeatedly.

The argument about what Inception is all about will rage for a while. I believe it is an elaborate con. Inception, in the movie, refers to placing an idea deep within someone’s subconscious in a way that it seems like an original thought for that person. Nolan is doing that with us. The first poster for the movie had the line: "the dream is real". I was not taken it. But did that lessen my enjoyment of the movie? Not a bit.

Placing the idea of the movie inside us, during the movie; making us agonise over it, while trying to keep pace; drawing us into a maze, after declaring it is a maze. Imagine the conceit of the man. Imagine the confidence of the man. Imagine his bloody grin when he sees we fell for it. And yet, we are grateful to him. That is the achievement called Inception.

It’s hard to believe that Leonardo Di Caprio was once a heartthrob. His roles show he wanted to sink that with Titanic. He may not possess Johnny Depp’s gift for the quirky, but he has enough ability to acquit himself quite creditably in whatever he chooses to do. But, unlike Depp, Leo makes you watch the movie, and not the histrionics. He inhabits the tortured soul that is Dom Cobb and makes you believe that even you would have made the choices Cobb makes, however wrong they may be. It is a powerful leading performance that never once feels so.

The supporting cast is a dream. (Sorry!) Marion Cotillard, arguably the most beautiful actress working in Hollywood now, simply excels. Hers is the role that, you will come out of the theatre saying, could be done by none other. Fanboy favourite Joseph Gordon-Lewitt abandons his indie cred to immerse himself in this massive studio undertaking. He makes himself at home. Plus he looks fabulous. Tom Hardy does not run away with the movie, as many expected. His is the steady, but not showy, performance. The lovely Ellen Page pretends to be the only ordinary person among the sea of stars. She succeeds.

We have an Indian presence that is not perfunctory. Dileep Rao has a meaty role and there’s nothing vegetarian about him. Where have you been all this while, my friend? Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy and Michael Caine hold up their ends with poise and confidence.

Inception is a visual extravaganza. It assaults your senses with such calculated precision that you see the extraordinary vision of a master aided by the best in the technical fields. Wally Pfister’s cinematography conveys grandeur in every frame. Hans Zimmer’s score is epic-sounding, but not very memorable to untrained ears. It serves the purpose but goes no further. The visual effects are many and varied. Believe me, once you see Paris in this movie, you never want to see it any other way.

As an action film Inception excels. The snow-bound fortress sequence is pure Bond, while the zero-gravity fight scene betters The Matrix. But these sequences never feel like set pieces. They are fluid and serve the larger purpose of all-round entertainment.

The million-dollar question is how the film will fare against The Dark Knight. I have a definite answer. It trumps the earlier film in every way. One was an exploration of how much one could do in a genre that does not lend itself to serious filmmaking; the other is a master-class in transcending genres. Inception harks back to a time when movies were created, not assembly-lined. It takes entertainment to levels that are beyond the video game. Entertainment meant stoking the superficial senses. Inception fucks with your mind.

I dedicate this review to my friend. Here’s to the hope that we get our minds fucked again. Paraphrasing husbands everywhere, "We don’t get it often enough".

Alice, through Burton's Looking Glass

Film: Alice in Wonderland
Cast: Mia Wasikowska, Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Anne Hathaway,
Director: Tim Burton

Among other things, Alice in Wonderland is often described by conspiracy theorists as the ultimate drug trip. Lewis Carroll definitely was "off" with his head somewhere else! Tim Burton is known for his distinctive visual style and his ability to tell any story as a fable. When he announced his take on Alice, with alter ego Johnny Depp in tow, many a geek the world over wet his pants in delight.

This is a slightly older Alice. On her engagement day, Alice (Wasikowska) follows a White Rabbit (Michael Sheen) and falls down a hole. She changes sizes, meets assorted weirdos and has curious adventures, all the while convinced she is dreaming. But there is a twist in the tale. Something is not quite right with Wonderland. The evil Red Queen (Bonham Carter) is the ruler, having exiled her sister, the White Queen (Hathaway). The poor subjects find their heads being offed at rather short notice.

To sort out matters and slay the terrible creature, the Jabberwocky (the great Christopher Lee in his shortest role), a champion must rise, a champion called Alice, or so the prophecy goes. While most people, including Alice, are not convinced, one man refuses to believe otherwise. He is the Mad Hatter (Depp). The saga begins.

Johnny Depp has precious little to do but add to his list of weird roles. Anne Hathaway and Helena Bonham Carter are required to overact. The former falls flat, all flutter and floss The latter runs away with the movie, deadpanning to brilliant effect. Stephen Fry and Alan Rickman showcase their vocal talents as the Cheshire Cat and the Blue Caterpillar. Mia Wasikowska does have unusual looks, but her acting chops are not called to action here.

Alice is Burton at his most accessible – dazzling us with his visual imagery, while not bothering about subtexts or secondary meanings. The Burton of old may have gone AWOL, but the success of Alice may give him the freedom to return to his quirky roots.

All said and done, Alice in Wonderland should come with a warning. The heady mixture of Carroll and Burton may not awaken the grey cells, but it delights the eyes enough to make young minds reach out for those drugs!

Whatever Happened to the King of the Box Office?

Where is the Man?

Where did Big Willie disappear to? More importantly, why?

The 21st of December, 2008. Sounds a long time ago, right? That was day Seven Pounds released in the US . Almost one and a half years have passed and there is no concrete news of a Will Smith movie being shot. Which means, there won’t be a Will movie in 2010. That makes it over two calendar years without a Big Will movie. Something that hasn’t happened since our man acted in Bad Boys in 1995.

What is happening? Is the hot streak over? Has Smith joined the League of Was-Once Superstars Who Can’t Open a Movie Now? Has the magic gone? Is the Will Smith era well and truly behind us? The movielessness seems to show that.

Does it have its basis in any fact? Well, it has a basis in the general trend of the movie business. With megastar-starrers not starring well at the turnstiles, with downward-spiraling DVD sales pushing down profit margins, with studios trusting non-original content far more than anything.

Just like the studio system collapsed decades ago, the star system also collapsed recently. The signs were there for years, but with the recession the producers finally gathered courage to say it out aloud. Big names are still big names, but their box office clouts have drastically diminished. Stars no longer open a movie like they do. It’s applicable to all big movie stars. So, it should be applicable to Will Smith also.

Er, hold on to that. Three years ago, Newsweek, in a highly talked-about article (http://www.newsweek.com/id/35744), declare that Will Smith was Hollywood ’s most Powerful Actor. The word "Powerful’ was wisely used. They basically declared that only one man could guarantee an opening weekend and that was Smith. Three years have passed since that article. And three Will Smith movies came in – I am Legend, Hancock and Seven Pounds. Of this Seven Pounds was probably the only one that came after the recession (depending on when you think recession happened.). And Seven Pounds is the argument against Will.

Seven Pounds was a disappointment to Will-watchers. Note, I didn’t say Will-fans. Will-watchers. The guys following Will Smith’s career over the years. The guys who were waiting to see when the 100-million-dollar-man would fall. After eight consecutive movies that grossed over a 100 million dollars in the US domestic market, Seven Pounds bombed. And then the Kill Will daggers were out. Just like that. The fun part is, Seven Pounds didn’t bomb. Oh, no, not by a long shot. Unlike the other Will Smith blockbusters, Seven Pounds was made on a budget that was just a third of his usual movies. And it still grossed, in its worldwide run, three times its budget. What sort of a flop is that?

I haven’t seen Seven Pounds. But I have read about it, and nowhere does it even hint that it is going to be a blockbuster. It’s not even a happy scenario. But I have seen the Pursuit of Happyness and that was when I doffed my hat to the Will Smith effect. I fell asleep for a bit while watching Happyness. And I do not fall asleep watching movies on the big screen. Happyness may have been one of those rags-to-riches tales that make us feel good to be a part of the human race. But it was not a Disney movie. The pace was so slow that I am sure I was not the only one who dozed off. It was also a story about a minority (Black, not poor!). But made for the same budget as Seven Pounds, it grossed over six times that around the world. And there was only one explanation to it: Smith willed it there. Because he could. Period.

All of a sudden, Smith was the only man with the Midas Touch left in Hollywood . Comedy, Sci-fi, Animation, Romance, even Drama; he could take anything and cross the 100-million mark with ease. He did it again with the impressively special-effected (at least, until the zombies came) and with the critically-murdered Hancock. He was a man who could do know wrong in the box office. Then Seven Pounds came along. From the time it was released, the Net was rife with rumours that Will would hold back from his risk-taking movies (like the proposed Speilberg-film The Trial of Chicago 7) and fast-track Hancock 2 or Legend 2.

Unfortunately Will Smith did nothing to rectify the situation. He just chose to take a break. A long break. His IMDb page shows 28 projects in development. Including sequels to Independence Day, Men in Black, Bad Boys, Hancock, I, Robot and I am Legend. Has Will Smith fallen? "Aw, hell no!" Not on the basis of a movie that was still a decent hit. Not by a long shot. Which is why I hope to see a Will Smith movie in July 2011. One which is not a sequel. And one that is going to hit the ticket sales out of the park. Without any help from 3D/IMAX rates. Then all the naysayers will start talking about it being a fluke!

Bottom line is: There is one influential movie star still working in Hollywood and his name is not George Clooney, Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt. It was the case before the Newsweek report. It was the case for a few years after that. It still is the case, we just don’t have a proof in our hands.

“Don’t Make Yourself at Home”

Film: You, Me and Dupree
Cast: Owen Wilson, Matt Dillon, Kate Hudson
Director: Anthony and Joe Russo

We are the most hospitable nation on the planet, or so we like to think. But how long can our hospitality stretch? What if an uninvited guest comes to stay and doesn’t leave? How much can we adjust, even for our best friend?

Carl (Dillon) and Molly (Hudson) have just finished saying their wedding vows when Carl’s best friend Dupree (Wilson) gets kicked out of his job, house and car. They have to take him in and the marriage is off on the wrong note. Sure Dupree has a heart of gold, but he is also a bit too much, to say too little. "Make yourself at home" turn out to be the biggest mistake Carl ever said.

You, Me and Dupree has only a few flaws. In fact, I could find out only four: Ridiculous storyline, unimaginative screenplay, shoddy editing, non-existent direction. Owen Wilson has never been accused of being anything but over the top. He doesn’t disgrace his billing. Matt Dillon is there only for the money, and it shows. What Michael Douglas is doing in such a role is anyone’s guess. The only bright spot is the radiant Kate Hudson. Unfortunately she continues on her long list of bad career choices.

You, Me and Dupree is an acquaintance you neither want to visit nor invite unless you are desperate. Trust me, no one will find you inhospitable if you stay away.

Derailed is on Track, Unfortunately

Film: Derailed
Cast: Clive Owen, Jennifer Aniston, Vincent Cassel
Director: Mikael Håfström

I like Clive Owen. He has a raw intensity about him. His looks are edgy, unlike your average movie star. A slightly derailed persona, if there ever was one. From Owen you expect a performance, and a film, that is at least a bit out of the ordinary. Derailed, however, disappoints.

The story of a man who has a casual affair and pays for it bitterly when he is blackmailed repeatedly has been oft told. So if you are going to do it again, you need to have something new. Director Mikael Håfström does not have any.

Charles Shine (Owen) is a commercial executive. He has a normal (which means loveless) marriage. Charles commutes by train to work everyday. He has one of these chance encounters (which happen only in movies) with Lucinda (Aniston). The two hit off and soon it is time to consummate the affair. They choose a dingy little hotel. Our accidental lovers are interrupted in the act by a thug, LaRouche (Cassell), who assaults them and decamps with their money. Soon the blackmailing begins, and in no time it turns ugly.

You wish Derailed would get derailed and do something out of the ordinary. But no, it follows the same monotonous track. Within half an hour you have already guessed the ending. The climax is too rushed and the holes in the plot are far too many. Håfström's direction follows predictable lines.

Clive Owen sleepwalks through a role that is clearly not meant for him. Jennifer Aniston is no great shakes as an actress and she doesn’t prove us wrong. Vincent Cassell, who was so good in Ocean’s Twelve, has tried his best for a character that is terribly underdeveloped.

Derailed is terribly ordinary. And that is as big an insult as I can thing off. If you are feeling thoroughly bored and couldn’t care how you spend your money, you could take a look. I wouldn’t.

Pheonix, Thy Name is Scorcese

Film: The Departed
Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg
Director: Martin Scorcese

Rats, rats everywhere
Not one to be found

Never in recent memory has this lowly rodent been the toast of a Hollywood movie. We are talking about two-legged variety. The snitch, the mole, whatever you may call it. And in The Departed, they rule the roost. And when the ship starts to sink, they have nowhere to desert but go down.

The Departed is a roller coaster ride through the mean streets of Boston where cops and criminals play a dangerous game of one-upmanship. This is an age where innocence was not lost, it never was there.

The raging bull lording over the gangs of Boston is Frank Costello (Nicholson). The good fellows in the police department hatch up an ingenious plan wherein they infiltrate Costello’s ranks with an undercover agent Costigan (DiCaprio). Unfortunately for them, Costello has also put his man Sullivan (Damon) in the police. In true pulp style they both fall for the same girl Madolyn (Vera Farmiga). Who becomes the bigger superstar?

Leonardo DiCaprio is Jack Dawson no more. The pretty boy can act and he has no better teacher. Matt Damon is a perfect foil. Mark Wahlberg has his best role yet, while Alec Baldwin is hilarious. The actor in Jack Nicholson is often overshadowed by the larger-than-life persona of Jack. Here for most part the actor makes his presence felt. However, Jack is always lurking around.

Martin Scorcese has risen from the ashes. He has left his quest for that elusive Oscar aside and gone back to doing what he does better than most -- crime drama. At the end of the year comes one of its most enjoyable films. Pulp it may be, but what pulp. Take a bow, Marty!

Perfectly Good Way to Ruin Your Day

Film: Date Movie

Cast: Allyson Hannigan, Adam Campbell, Tony Cox

Director: Aaron Seltzer

What is a date movie? It is one of those things you do with your girlfriend if your intentions are slightly less than honourable? Going together to attend a Celine Dion concert, browsing bookshops for Nora Roberts’ titles, shop hopping in Commercial Street, all of the things you wouldn’t be caught dead doing otherwise. But now you consider them as mere obstacles to be overcome to achieve your goal. Similar motion picture obstacles (usually the so-called chick flicks or extra-syrupy romances) constitute date movies.

Date Movie, however, is not a date movie; it is a spoof. A spoof is one of the less illustrious, but still quite entertaining, genres of films. If made well, they can be riotous like the Hot Shots and Naked Gun series. On the other hand they can also be tedious like the Scary Movie quartet.

We begin with Julia Jones (Hannigan) and her intimate diary. Julia works at her family’s Greek diner. Her father is Greek (he is also Jewish and Black), her mother is Indian, her sister is Japanese and Julia is blonde. She is also fat, which is a hindrance to her romantic aspirations. She meets a date doctor, Hitch (Cox), who helps her undergo an ugly duckling-like transformation. The new Julia meets the handsome Grant Funkyerdoder (Campbell). Sparks fly like fireflies. Soon it’s time to meet the Funkyerdoders.

Date Movie is disgusting. It is an attempt to elicit laughs by whatever means and it is a failed attempt before ten minutes are over. The script is shoddy, the dialogues pedestrian, the situations ridiculous in a negative way and the acting terrible. The humour is not fit for a toilet and the requisite toilet humour is below the septic tank. Director Aaron Seltzer cannot claim sole credit for this atrocity of a film. Everyone has a share of the blame. It is a team movie of the worst kind.

If you take your date to Date Movie, not only will you not be getting what you set out to, you will also be spending the next few days being extremely lonely. On the other hand if your date liked the movie, I suggest you search for greener pastures, unless you liked it too. In which case both you and I are better off with you not reading this.

Behind the Hype an Ordinary Movie

Film: The Da Vinci Code
Cast: Tom Hanks, Audrey Tautou, Ian McKellen, Paul Bettany
Director: Ron Howard

If one were to take a poll on what drives people forward, the front-runners may be money, religion and sex. The dark horse will be conspiracy theories. Don’t we love believing that we don’t know many a thing because someone somewhere is covering it up?

Dan Brown rode on his imagination and the so-called "biggest cover-up of all time" to make The Da Vinci Code one of popular publishing’s major milestones. When Tom Hanks and Ron Howard signed on, the silver screen version became the most awaited film of 2006. Then the Hollywood hype factory took over. The Catholic Church was in no mood to give any more publicity to the book or the film by asking for an outright ban. But many of its followers worldwide were not so smart. The controversy raged, the publicity got wider and the studio bigwigs rubbed their green hands in glee.

Here’s a cryptic summary. Robert Langdon (Hanks), a Harvard professor of Symbology is asked to help solve the strange clues found at a murder scene. Police officer Sophie (Tautou) warns him of a bigger conspiracy. The two hit the road, solving one crazy puzzle after other. Side players include the Catholic Church, the ancient organisation Priory of Sion, the secretive Opus Dei, the Holy Grail, the mortality of Jesus Christ, and, towering over them all, the genius of Leonardo da Vinci.

Tom Hanks looks and acts bored. Reluctant auditioner Audrey Tautou is still not convinced that she should be Sophie. The talent of Jean Reno and the looks of Paul Bettany are wasted. Ian McKellen is delightful, thank God for small mercies.
Ron Howard has tried to keep close to the book while keeping the cinematic needs in mind. Hans Zimmer’s music is apt.

At its Cannes premiere, the film was greeted with derisive hoots and catcalls. There were catcalls and whistles when I saw it on Friday, too. But these were more confused than derisive. Many people felt they were being part of some kind of cinematic history. The Da Vinci Code is nothing of the sort. It is just a Hollywood summer movie, a murder mystery. But the hint of conspiracy and the overpowering hype just makes people more curious. In a couple of weeks the hysteria would have died out. But, by then, the studio would have made enough money to make Angels and Demons. And they will take our money again. How is that for a conspiracy theory?

Adam Sandler Plugged

Film: Click
Cast: Adam Sandler, Christopher Walken, Kate Beckinsale, David Hasselhoff
Director: Frank Coraci

There is a popular misconception that when someone talks about having seen a satiating movie, he is talking about a porn flick. Not true. (At least, not all the time!) Any movie that has made you identify with its character has satiated you. What if the character is a loser? (As most of us are, when compared to on-screen heroes.) Then he gets a push that takes him to the next level. That ‘push’ is the crux of Click.

Architect Michael Newman (Sandler) has no time for his wife Donna (Beckinsale) and his kids because he has to be at the beck and call of his boss Jack (Hasselhoff). Once while searching for a universal remote to operate all the appliances at home, Michael comes across Morty (Walken), an eccentric inventor, who gives him one for free. Just one condition: He cannot return it back.

Michael finds out the remote is far more universal than he expected. It was a remote to life. It had several advantages. He could do a slow motion retake on the voluptuous jogger, reduce the volume of his dog’s barking, pause his boss and then slap him, fast forward foreplay and other boring stuff. There were also disadvantages, which he found to his dismay.

Like other Adam Sandler movies, Click, too, is packaged as a comedy. There are still attempts to poke fun at bodily functions, dirty humour and other Sandlerisms. Unfortunately, they are not funny. This is a sanitised Sandler. One who tries to appeal to a larger family audience, while keeping his fan base intact. He ends up alienating both. Kate Beckinsale has little to do but look nice. The part of Morty was so obviously written with Christopher Walken in mind, but even he can’t bring a spark to these proceedings.

Much has been written about Click having a surreal, philosophical side to it, with oodles of black humour. Balderdash! To make people believe in such an outrageous concept you need outrageous explanations. Click is nothing but run of the mill. As for the remote, it would be a handy toy to have around, without the disadvantages, of course.

About That Humble Pie...

Disappointing. That's my one-word for this year's Oscars. Disappointing not just because of my dismal showing with regards to the prediction sweepstakes, but also because of short supply in humour despite the high-profile hosts, thorough lack of continuity and coherence in the proceedings, dearth of Wow! and WTF moments, and, as I found today, Farrah Fawcett missing from the In Memoriam montages. Now that I re-read the above, disappointing seems too mild a word.

Let's begin with my predictions. It was Hurt Locker's year, not Avatar's. I backed the wrong horse. And that swap meant four misses (Best Picture, Editing, Sound Mixing and Sound Editing). What remained was Cinematography, Art Direction and Visual Effects. The docs and shorts netted me only one out of four (The Cove) and that was because it was the most in-news. Music By Prudence provided the Oscars with its mini 'Kanye moment', as they are calling it. Too bad no one realised it until after they read about it. Due to their relative anonymity these awards are usually based on chance. I lucked out last year, was out of luck this year.

The foreign film category surprised for the second year running. No White Ribbon, no Prophet, not even Ajami. But an Argentine film no one has heard of. I am sure quite a few people were playing Inky-Pinky-Ponky.

There were four absolute locks: Up for Animated Pic, Avatar for Visual Effects, Christoph and Monique for Supporting Roles. I got those right. Yeah, so did almost everybody else.

Michael Giacchino (Up), Ryan Bingham and T-Bone Burnett (A Crazy Heart) heard the music they wanted to. Zachary Quinto's natural facial contortions won Makeup for Star Trek, while The Young Victoria was the only one in any contention for Costume Design. Don't believe me? Check out the last five winners. The Duchess, Elizabeth: The Golden Age, Mary Antoinette, Memoirs of a Geisha, The Aviator.

Enough has been said about designer Sandy Powell's alleged arrogant speech. Rubbish by the cartload. Hers was the best acceptance speech of the night. She did say, "I already have two of these, but I am feeling greedy." You find that arrogant, not funny? Define funny. But her dedication was sharp, biting and truthful. "To the costume designers that don't do movies about dead monarchs or glittery musicals... don't get as recognised as they should, but work as hard." She ended with "this is for you, but I am going to take it home tonight." How arrogant.

The Dude went up as expected and delivered a funny, honest and disarming speech. Next contest, how many "man"s were there in that speech. Sandra Bullock won. Damn. But to her credit, she was hilarious yet poignant. Plus she had the guts to go and collect a Razzie just the previous night for All About Steve. She rocked. But I still would have polled Meryl Streep.

The Hurt Locker trumped Inglourious Basterds for Original Screenplay, as I said, but Precious came up over the air in the Adapted section. That was a surprise. By the time Katheryn Bigelow went up for Best Director it was sure The Hurt Locker would pick up the big one too.

None of the "it will be very different" that was promised materialised. Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin were not just not funny enough, they were not funny. The beginning monologue was done away with, but the duo-logue fell flat. As was the continuing Clooney looks. Neil Patrick Harris sang and I couldn't make out a word. The teen heartthrobs were mostly there, but kept messing their lines.

John Hughes is someone special. Especially so for many American teens in the eighties, whose angst he so truthfully depicted in his movies. Apparently. But giving him a separate section to commemorate his death was kind of like telling the others who are no more "you guys are not so special". The In Memoriam section missed out Farrah. And an Academy rep said it was intentional. Yeah right, how can you forget one of Charlie's Angels?

The Paranormal Activity footage of the hosts was unfunny. Ben Stiller was too strained. The horror montage made no sense. The introduction of the Best Picture nominees took double the time (I am a genius!). The dances for the nominated scores were pretty cool though.

Last year I liked the idea of five peers introducing the Acting nominees. This year all the intros were too flat, save Stanley Tucci's for Meryl Streep. One thing's it won't be there next year.

The networks say the viewership was best in five years. Wanna bet it's gonna come down next year? I never liked Billy Crystal that much. But he was the most comfortable one there. Will they get him back? What needs drastic improvement is the effort of the writers. If Ricky Gervais could fall at the Globes, not many have a chance. But as I always say, "Bring in Ryan Seacrest out of the red carpet and into the main hall."

But come what may I will be there in 2011. Something tells me I will fare far better. If you want to see me eat more of that humble pie, catch me in a year.

Betting on a Horse Called Oscar

Oscar prediction is a fun game. But it is also a game most people get wrong. Why? The answer is simple. People forget what they are doing. You are predicting who will take home the statue, not voting for who, you think, should win the award. Sorry, you are not that important. But you can transcend than un-importance by pretending to know how the majority of Academy members will vote, without ever seeing their ballots.

And you can do that. If only you don't let feelings come in the way. Academy voters (or the total count of votes) may throw up a surprise or two. But, on an average, they are anything but unpredictable. In this Internet Age, you just need to keep your eyes and ears open to read the signs. There are so many award shows that lead up to the little golden fella and they provide pointers, either to or away.

The Academicians (as opposed to academicians) are in the show business, which translates to glamour with a capital G. They allow themselves to be manipulated by the manifold media, who are themselves manipulated by the studio spinners, who in turn are manipulated by their own delusions about how much they can achieve. I haven't been able to complete a full circle there. And I can't. There is a missing link. And that is the fun in predicting. Not everything goes according to plan.

Last year I got 21 correct out of 24. I kid you not. I would have gotten 22, but some subconscious Mallu-ness prevented me from siding with a fellow Mallu. I don't anticipate an encore this year, but I still back myself. After all, if I got a doughnut every time I got one right that my fellow players didn't, I would have been the envy of Homer Simpson. Without any further ado, I present my predictions. Be sure to hold it against me if I fail miserably.

The Best Foreign Language Film is a toss-up between The White Ribbon and A Prophet. I am as much of a racist as the next guy, but that is more the white vs brown variety. Semitism or anti-Semitism doesn't affect me. But it is a fact that most Hollywood studios were set up and are still being run by Jews. And big shots in the different fields are Jews. Their way of proclaiming their heritage is by ensuring the Holocaust subjects never go out of fashion. And that is the reason I go along with The White Ribbon.

Burma VJ and The Cove are perfect outlets for the holier-than-thouness of the mostly American Academy. The Cove benefits from more publicity and it gets my vote for Best Documentary, Feature. "The untold story about wild rabbits that lived between the Berlin Walls." This premise itself (Królik po berlinsku) should win an Oscar. But I don't think the patriotic Academy can ignore anything titled China's Unnatural Disaster: The Tears of Sichuan Province. That's a lock for Best Documentary, Short Subject.

In the Best Short Film, Animated category the new Wallace and Gromit is making the rounds. And familiarity counts for something in the lesser-known categories. But I'm instead going with French Toast. Just gut. Can't explain. Likewise, I believe the Indian summer will continue to this year with a statue for Kavi in Best Short Film, Live Action.

This is Avatar's year, make no mistake about it. We will discuss the big awards later. First let's clean up the technical awards. Beginning with Visual Effects, going on to Sound Mixing and Sound Editing and also sweeping up Editing, Art Direction and Cinematography. That's right, folks. I'm ignoring Hurt Locker's decibel-related claims and going native with the Na'vi.

Now that the major part of the elephant is out of the room, let's concentrate on the others stuff. Most of the "sweeps" usually pick up the gong for Original Music Score, also. This time, however, Michael Giacchino seems to be winning everything for Up. I will go with the flow. And there won't be anything tired about "The Weary Kind" (Crazy Heart) as it will pick up the Original Song Oscar.

Costume Design and Makeup rarely go hand in hand on Oscar night. But this time I'm sticking with the constant in both categories: The Young Victoria. Doesn't hurt that I'm bluntly partial towards Ms. Blunt! Heath Ledger's swansong will go home empty handed. (After all Ledger, Depp, Law and Farrell essentially wore the same costume! I know, I'm cruel.) And how can Star Trek get any makeup prices? No one would dare put any on the lovely Zoe and Zachary Quinto looks like a Vulcan anyway.

Writing is what distinguishes us from the writers. Up in the Air will win its only award for Best Adapted Screenplay. And that will not make it any less fine a movie than it is. The Original Screenplay is a two-horse race, but the 'Basterd' Tarantino will be second-best to Hurt Locker and Mark Boal.

We now come to the showmen and women. Christoph Waltz and Monique would be the only nominees in the Supporting categories who would have made a speech. Remember Forest Whitaker in Last King of Scotland. It's that kind of a lead that they have over the rest of also-rans.

And here are the Leading categories. Morgan Freeman playing Nelson Mandela. A no-brainer, right? And in a Clint Eastwood film? Why are there other nominees? But somehow, Invictus never struck a chord. As a result Jeff Bridges will get his due for his overall coolness over the years. All of us Dudes will abide by that. The best Actress is where I go, in many eyes, from predicting to hoping. Sandra Bullock would have blindsided a lot of people, but I still think she hasn't got the bollocks to beat Our Lady of Accents in Julie and Julia. Meryl Steep will prevail. Or I hope so.

The King of All Worlds in a recent interview uttered something that was nothing short of blasphemy. He said Kathryn Bigelow should win the Best Director and Avatar should win Best Picture. There goes Avatar's chances, everyone said. However, don't think it is that far-fetched. In fact, I believe that is exactly how it will unfold. And everyone will be happy. Just watch and see.

I will be back after the awards are announced on Sunday night. We'll then discuss how much humble pie I should eat. In the meantime, Happy Predicting, Folks. And then let's all, as Mr 12,775 Warren Beatty himself famously said, watch them congratulate themselves.

Casanova, Castrated

Film: Casanova
Cast: Heath Ledger, Sienna Miller, Jeremy Irons, Oliver Platt, Lena Olin
Director: Lasse Hallstrom

When a city theatre had a special screening of Casanova on International Women’s Day, I found it strange that no one raised a voice against it. After all, this was arguably the most chauvinistic of male characters ever, and such a film apparently would be against everything Women’s Day stood for. Then I saw the film.

We are transported to 16th century Venice where that most famous seducer of women, Casanova (Ledger), is on the loose. And where do we find him in action first? A nunnery, no less. He flees after official Inquisitors of the Church arrive to arrest him for immorality and heresy. Casanova ends up in the University where a debate is happening and meets Francesca Bruni (Miller), and it’s love at first sight for him.

Francesca is a woman with progressive ideas that would cause a ripple even in this century, so it can be assumed how out of place she was then. At the same time she was about to obey her dead father’s wishes and marry a rich merchant, Paprizzio (Platt), a man she had never met, to save her family from falling deeper into debt. It is at this juncture that Casanova enters the picture to play a game of mistaken identities. At the same time the Catholic Church’s most famous Inquisitor, Bishop Pucci (Irons), arrives in Venice to arrest Casanova and restore moral values.

Casanova the man could have been an impotent barber for all we care. But for Casanova the legend, restricting himself to one woman was as much an anathema as God is to an atheist. And if you want to tarnish that image by portraying him as a monogamist, you better have the license of an extremely good story behind you. Jeffrey Hatcher and Kimberly Sini do not have. As a result their script seems more suited for pre-pubescent girls than an adult audience.

Heath Ledger is very likeable, even though he doesn’t have that naughtiness one might expect. I want to see more of Sienna Miller. She has very earthy looks and can act a bit. Veterans Oliver Platt and Lena Olin revel in their roles. The surprise package is Jeremy Irons who is a delight with his outrageous costumes and great comic timing.

Lasse Hallstrom has given us a picture that is good to look at. The sets are wonderful, and so are the costumes. This could have been a rarity, a good period comedy. But the script goes from bad to worse and ends in a rotten climax. After seeing Casanova one thing became clear. With its hackneyed plot and mind-numbing climax this film is an insult not just to women but even men. No wonder there were no voices on Women’s Day. Why give more publicity when none is due?

Love and Longing on Brokeback Mountain

Film: Brokeback Mountain
Cast: Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Anne Hathaway,
Director: Ang Lee

"What a waste of good testosterone!" was how a female friend retorted when I told her, long ago, that Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal were acting as gay cowboys in an Ang Lee film. She was not alone. Disbelief was the most common reaction when Lee brought out his movie. You do not mess around with ‘cowboyhood’. That is the epitome of masculinity, the Mount Everest as far as maleness goes.

After the colossal disaster that was Hulk, Ang Lee needed to redeem himself. He found the perfect vehicle in a short story by Annie Proulx about two young cowboys who have an affair while tending sheep on Brokeback Mountain and how that turned to a deeper love and a longing that affected their lives for the next 20 years. Novelist Larry McMurtry and his writing partner Diana Ossana adapted the story beautifully, Gustavo Santaolalla composed a lilting score and Lee was on his way.

Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal have turned in really fine performances as the two lovers. In roles that asked for an extraordinary amount of maturity, the twosome have stood up and asked to be counted. The only minor flaw is that the makeup department couldn’t effectively show Ledger as an older man. He has too boyish a face to convince us he has a grownup daughter. Anne Hathaway says goodbye to her sweet princess image and Michelle Williams is a class apart as a troubled wife. The support cast is one of the best assembled in recent times, in terms of performances, not names.

Brokeback Mountain is a very well-made film. Lee begins slowly, letting us soak in the characters. The lack of pace is compensated by some awesome cinematography. We indulge in some spectacular shots of the two cowboys tending hundreds of sheep on the slopes of a beautiful mountain. The two carry out their seemingly innocuous tasks day after day. But you can feel it that this is an explosion ready to go off at the slightest provocation. And when it happens you marvel at the sensitivity of the director. Even the uneasy sniggers of the idiots behind cannot distract you.

Ang Lee has managed to get the best out of everyone of his cast and crew. Be it Roberta Maxwell who plays Jake’s mother and is on screen for not more than five minutes or be it the art and set departments who never let us feel we were watching a period piece, each one has gelled with the other to create as less flawed a motion picture as it gets in present-day Hollywood.

Brokeback Mountain breaks taboos, treads on paths not travelled before and stands proudly on a lonely mountain. But at its heart it is a very simple story, a love story. Brokeback Mountain may have forever changed the way we look at cowboys, but we are better off for it.

Blood Behind the Stone

Film: Blood Diamond
Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Connelly, Djimon Hounsou
Director: Edward Zwick

When Aishwarya Rai’s limpid eyes or Sheetal Malhar’s chiselled features guide you towards the rock you so desire, do you bother whether it is a blood diamond or not? A blood diamond is one that comes from a strife-torn region and is sold by one of the warring parties to buy arms to fight against the other.

Sierra Leone in 1999 is in the grip of a bloody civil war. Solomon Vandy (Hounsou), a fisherman, is separated from his family and forced to work in the diamond mines. He discovers a rare 100-carat diamond and hides it. A smuggler Danny Archer (DiCaprio), the rebels, and a greedy South African colonel (Arnold Vosloo) all want it. All Solomon wants is his family back.

Blood Diamond is primarily an action adventure, but Edward Zwick his film as a means to bring awareness about the diamond trade, and not the other way round. The last quarter may be disappointing, but then but a mainstream film has its limitations.

Leonardo DiCaprio continues to surprise, while Jennifer Connelly breathes life into stereotypical character. The chemistry between the two is amazing considering the romance is so understated. Djimon Hounsou towers above the rest. He may be playing the man with the noble heart once too often, but few actors can do it so effortlessly, yet forcefully.

My wife has been after me for a diamond ring for some time now. Then she saw Blood Diamond. Guess what? She is still after me. In our fiercely material world, where the diamond is a prized possession, the last thing we want to be told is its bloody history. It will take more than one Blood Diamond to change our mindset. But it is a start and that has to be applauded.

Babel Towers Above the Rest

Film: Babel
Cast: Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett,
Director: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu

As amazing the existence of so many languages and dialects is, equally startling is the possibilities of miscommunication. Lost in translation is not just a fancy phrase, it is an omnipresent reality. But what if people speaking the same language can still not understand each other? What if the problem lies in understanding the person and not the language?

A poor goat herder in the Morroccon dessert buys a gun so that his sons can keep the jackals away from the grazing goats. One act of childhood indiscretion and an American tourist Susan (Blanchett) is shot. In the middle of nowhere she bleeds while her husband Richard (Pitt) tries to get his embassy to cut the red tape faster and get medical aid across.

An ocean away a Mexican nanny cannot find anyone to take care of the American children under her care, while she pops over the border to attend her only son’s wedding. An act of desperation sees her taking them along. Another ocean away, a deaf-mute Japanese teenager struggles with being considered a misfit and also with her awakening sexuality.

Cate Blanchett is excellent as expected, while Brad Pitt simply blows you away. They are the marquee names. But it is the others, the ones we have never heard of, who stun you with their acting, leaving at least a lump in your throat.

The performance he extracts from his characters is Inarritu’s biggest achievement. That is not to say that his collaboration with screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga is any less. Arriaga’s narrative moves seamlessly across continents and periods. The only slightly less cohesive section is the Japanese chapter, but you can forgive him that because it is the most moving. Inarritu sets his own pace and makes us toe to it. At 142-minutes this is longer than most Hollywood offerings.

Babel may be one of the best movies we get to see this year, but it is not for everyone. If you think this is a pessimistic film, so be it. Real life seldom is all about optimism. At the end of Babel you will realise through all that babel one voice screams through – it is the voice of humanity. Unfortunately no one seems to be listening.

This Bully Lacks Bite

Film: The Ant Bully
Cast: Zach Tyler Eisen, Julia Roberts, Nicholas Cage
Director: John A Davis

Who says size doesn’t matter? It does all right. And how do those less endowed in bulk get even? Well, a wizard could help. At least that’s what The Ant Bully says.

Lucas (Eisen) is one of those meek, bespectacled boys who always get bullied. But Lucas takes out his ire on those smaller than him. In this case the ant colony is constantly at risk. No wonder the ants call him the Destroyer.

One day the Merlin of the ants, Zoc (Cage), brews up a potion that makes Lucas ant-size. He is brought to trial for crimes against ant-anity. The queen ant (Meryl Streep in a cameo) decrees that he be made to live and work like an ant in order to understand them. Zoc’s girlfriend Hara (Roberts) agrees to be his guide. He has a series of adventures that end in a climax where the ants try to save themselves from the pest exterminator (Paul Giamatti).

The Ant Bully is not without its attractions for an adult, but it is aimed more at kids. This is no morality tale. The few lessons the film offers are too kiddish even for kids. It’s Deepavali and if you want a family outing, The Ant Bully won’t disappoint. But if you want to see a great cartoon with ants, then rent Antz.

Stuck in a flux

Film: Aeon Flux
Cast: Charlize Theron, Marton Csokas, Frances McDormond

Director: Karyn Kusama

Not since the D W Griffith years in the early 20th century have original screenplays become such an endangered species. Theme park rides, video games and, of course, other movies have become regular sources of inspiration, besides anything on ink – children’s comics, graphic novels, short stories no one knew existed, and what not.

Aeon Flux takes off from a series of animated shorts that came out in the early ‘90s. In the year 2011, an industrial disease wiped out 99% of the world’s population. By the time a man named Goodchild found out a cure there were only five million humans left. For the last 400 years the Goodchild dynasty has been ruling what has been left of Earth. Curiously, the population still remains at five million.

Rebels, going by the name Morikans, have been slowly gathering in strength for many years. The best of them is Aeon Flux (Theron). Their aim is to strike at Trevor Goodchild (Csokas) and his oppressive regime. Aeon gets her chance to kill Trevor, but something stops her. She realises there is a lot she has to understand, a lot that is hidden.

Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi adapted the animated series with a central topic that has relevance today. But they forgot to give it life. And no amount of computer graphics and Kusama’s direction could hide that.

Charlize Theron is one of our most attractive actresses who can act. But she never gets under the skin of the character and therefore Aeon Flux is too distant from us. Marton Csokas is not only a good-looker, he has a presence too. None of the other actors make an impact.

The original Aeon Flux’s costumes were vetoed out by Theron (Do a Google search to find why). Beatrix Aruna Pasztor has come up with some innovative designs, including the sexiest nightwear I’ve seen on screen. But that’s about all one remembers of Aeon Flux one day later. This is one heck of a waste of a lot of money. But that is what happens when you lose originality. I shudder to think if Speilberg will one day come up with a film out of Letters to Penthouse.

Dark is the Night, Darker Still the Knight

Film: The Dark Knight
Cast: Christian Bale, Heath Ldger, Aaron Eckhart, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman
Director: Christopher Nolan


Let’s talk about nipples.

Now, I don’t have anything personal against nipples. In fact, I like them just as much as the next person. (Maybe even more!) Nipples can be alternatively arousing and nurturing. But nipples can also be dangerous. They can kill. Or almost.

A blotch on filmdom called Joel Schumacher discovered it when he decided to put nipples on the Batsuit in Batman and Robin. He almost killed Batman. The franchise that reinvented the superhero movie had to fade into oblivion because of a stupid director’s moment of madness.

The almost-demise lasted eight years before Christopher Nolan resurrected it by retelling the story from the very beginning. With an elaborate back story, detailed characterisation, and a very dark feel Batman Begins brought Batman back. Of course it helped he had the services of the best onscreen Batman – Christian Bale. But most importantly, nipples were conspicuously absent.
Three years on, they are back with The Dark Knight. As the wise men say, reaching the top is not too difficult, staying there is. But do they recreate the magic? By Krypton, they do!

Life has changed in Gotham. With Batman (Bale) around, the thugs and goons have to constantly look over their shoulder. Even the mob bosses have started holding their meetings in broad daylight. Lieutenant Gordon (Gary Oldman) is happy to have the services of a vigilante in preserving the peace. On the public front District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) treads boldly on the toes of the underworld. Batman himself dreams of the day when he can go quietly into the night and pursue an otherwise doomed romance with childhood friend and Assistant District Attorney Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal).

Into this scenario walks in a maniacal being who calls himself the Joker (Heath Ledger). Swerved neither by greed nor by power, the Joker’s deranged personality slowly infiltrates the darkest corners of Gotham. His aims are simple: make a better class of criminals, create havoc and unmask Batman. And he goes about his business carving and killing all in sight. Only one man can stop him, but at what cost?

Christopher Nolan, along with his writer-brother (the duo that gave us Memento) spins a web that is tangled, but one in which there is no thread dangling. We are pulled into a psychological drama where Batman is forced to make choices that are never black or white. This is no children’s morality tale. This is an adult story told with very adult sensibilities. A movie with a superhero that is not a superhero movie.

At the same time don’t be fooled into thinking that’s all there is. The action is astounding. With a mixture of live action stunts and computer graphics, Nolan choreographs actions sequences that blend the ethos of John Woo with the fury of Michael Bay, all the while keeping his own identity. There is a sequence with the Batpod or Bat-cycle that drains the last drop of saliva from your mouth. (By the way, if you loved the Batmobile the last time around, you will be blown away with the Batpod.) The music by James Newton Howard and Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard builds on the Batman theme and makes up the mood splendidly. Nolan regular Wally Pfister’s camera work is awe-inspiring. The glossy feel of Batman Begins gives way to a grittier, more realistic tone.

Christian Bale continues to be effortless in both avatars. While he stood out in virtually every scene in Batman Begins, here he steps back and does a Rahul Dravid. The guy you can trust to hold one end up while the others take centre-stage. Maggie Gyllenhaal is too good an actress for a largely thankless role. Even though her Rachel Dawes is present in most of the important scenes, Maggie has precious little to do.

Aaron Eckhart, while efficient, is forgettable. He doesn’t bring uniqueness to his role, and hence doesn’t stand out in our memory. On the other hand, Gary Oldman is as down-to-earth as they come. Old pros Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman delight in whatever little time they are on screen.

Like Tim Burton’s Batman, this film, too, is (over)powered by the Joker. While Jack Nicholson went intentionally over the top, Heath Ledger takes the opposite road. His Joker is a creature of madness, a sadistic lunatic who thrives on chaos, genuinely frightening, and not a buffoon. To his eternal credit, the way Ledger played Joker, we never end up sympathizing with him. Take off the hype, take off the expectation, take off Ledger’s unfortunate demise, you will still get a performance for the ages.

All said and done, The Dark Knight is all about Christopher Nolan. The young director translates his vision onto the screen in a grand fashion. He has made a movie that plumps the depths of despair in its characters, while elevating the viewer onto a plane higher than expected. The Dark Knight may have its flaws (we could have done without the Two-Face story), but it has far too many pluses for us to notice the shortcomings. The movie is 152 minutes long, but the intermission comes as an irritation. Nolan bravely takes a genre that is not usually associated with intelligence and gives it brains. Yes, this is entertainment, but it requires you not to throw away your thinking cap in order to be entertained. And there is not a nipple in sight.

Adrenaline Rush at 300 kph

Film: 300
Cast: Gerard Butler, Lena Headey, Dominic West
Director: Zack Snyder

I have been accused of being low on IQ, thin on values and wide around the waist, but never of being high on testosterone. So when the trailers of 300 showed sculpted bodies, incessant screaming and oodles of ketchup splattered all over, I couldn’t help but sigh. Boy, was I in for a surprise.

Based on cult graphic novelist Frank Miller’s famous work, 300 is a retelling of the epic Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC when 300 Spartans (or so the legend goes) fought heroically against a Persian army numbering a million (or so the legend goes). King Leonidas (Butler) takes 300 of his finest soldiers and meets the Persians at a narrow mountain pass where their vastness doesn’t count for much. What follows is as bloody and brutal a battle as can be imagined.

Despite being a blood and gore epic with loads of special effects, 300 succeeds mainly because of its storytelling. It recounts a myth with a passion that comes across. Forget historical inaccuracies or modern-day metaphors, this is a good versus evil tale told the old-fashioned way.

Director Zach Snyder gets the ball rolling with the casting. There are no marquee names, but good actors that will make you remember their characters, not themselves. The visual effects are spectacular. The texture is out of the ordinary, but doesn’t stick out. The action is breathtaking and fluid.

As a comic book in motion, 300 is the best you can get. It does not pretend to be anything else and that is its strength. Even the scenes of limbs being cut off does not make you sick because of the picture-book feel. 300 is an experience that is exhilarating and eye popping. Judge it for what it is and you won’t be disappointed. By Sparta, you won’t be!

James Bond; shaken, not stirred

Film: Casino Royale
Cast: Daniel Craig, Ewa Green, Judi Dench
Director: Martin Campbell

James Bond is dead! Long live James Bond!

It is official. Daniel Craig and Casino Royale have kicked the aging franchise out of its comatose existence. But was the kick so strong that it marks the beginning of the end for James Bond? Only time will tell.

Casino Royale takes us back to the beginning. James Bond (Craig) has just been promoted to ‘00’ status, he now has the license to kill. He celebrates it by blowing up a foreign embassy in Madagascar, breaking into his boss M’s residence and flying off to the Bahamas on the trail of an international terrorist financier. He then enters a very-high-stakes poker game at Casino Royale with monetary aid of the British Treasury, whose agent Vesper Lynd (Green) makes it a bit difficult for him to concentrate on the game.

Daniel Craig’s selection as the next 007 was greeted with the hostility usually reserved for Osama and Bush. He was written off before filming a single scene. Let us collectively eat mud pie. He is the best Bond since Connery and the most plausible Bond ever. Discarding the slick playboy image, Craig brings to the screen a reckless, ruthless attitude reminiscent of Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon. Bond does not bother about his attire and (gasp!) he couldn’t care if his martinis are shaken or stirred. In short, he is the most original of all the Bonds that followed the original.

Eva Green displays a luminous presence, but her character is one-dimensional. Mads Mikkelsen is boring, while Judy Dench brings nothing new. The only other interesting person is professional parkour (freestyle running) star Sébastien Foucan, whose art was as amazing as it was unbelievable.

Casino Royale is a very bold Bond movie. Credit should go to screenwriters Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, ‘script reworker’ Paul Haggis (Crash) and director Martin Campbell. Unfortunately they chose the wrong story. How thrilling can you make a poker game? After an initial buildup the entire second half is anti-climactic. For actionseekers, James Bond may be more human, but he has lost the license to thrill. Casino Royale could end up being a critic’s delight and the common man’s poison. If the cash registers don’t ring enough we know how the next Bond movie will be. Which is a shame, because this experiment deserves a longer innings.

For Better or for Worse, it’s 007 Time Again

It was my first kiss. Minutes into The Spy Who Loved Me, Roger Moore grabs the girl and engages in one incredible liplock. Life would never be quite the same for this worldly-unwise seven-year-old Indian boy watching it on video. It was not the guns, or the gadgets, or even the girls that remained with me as my first impression of a James Bond film. It was the kiss. With each passing Hollywood flick, I learnt more about kisses, but no one did it like Roger Moore. No one.

James Bond has never been about the books. The books did play their part and Ian Fleming is definitely the creator, but James Bond attained phenomenal status with movies. Without the films, James Bond would have been another of those print heroes who just existed. Without movies James Bond would have yielded maybe 1,000 results for a Google search, instead of the 35,800,000 that you get today. So where did the script change?

When British Naval Intelligence Commander Ian Fleming decided he knew enough about spies and espionage, agents and double agents, cars and girls to write a book, he chose the very bland name of ‘James Bond’ (after an American ornithologist) for his hero, and Casino Royale was on its way. A few books later Fleming’s family fortune hadn’t increased much, nor was the popularity of James Bond giving anyone sleepless nights.

Then John F Kennedy came into the picture. The charismatic President declared that one of his favourite books was From Russia With Love and a JFK-besotted country followed suit. James Bond had crossed the Atlantic and there was no looking back. Kennedy may or may not have been speaking the truth, but at the height of the Cold War he certainly picked the right title to bandy around.

There had been a television production of Casino Royale, but now Hollywood stepped in in a big way. And that propelled 007 into a different league. Producer Albert R Broccoli was hunting for actors when a brash young Scottish bodybuilder stormed out of his office refusing to audition. Broccoli made one of those decisions that slightly changed the course of history and Sean Connery thundered down on an unsuspecting public as James Bond in Dr. No. The ultra-masculine Connery was followed by Roger Moore, who perfected the suave and sophisticated look. In between there was a disaster called George Lazenby who thankfully lasted only one movie. Timothy Dalton came and went. The dying franchise was given a boost by Pierce Brosnan, who successfully mixed Connery’s attitude and Moore’s flair with his own incredibly good looks. Now Brosnan is told to step aside and along comes Craig, Daniel Craig.

Craig got a raw deal from day one. He was the object of every Bondmaniac’s hatred (One even started a website called www.craignotbond.com). But then that is the legacy of Sean Connery. Every Bond actor has to match up to impossible standards. And Craig has it doubly hard because he is rebooting the series. In Munich he showed us he could act. But can he be James Bond?

Ian Flemming’s books were always accused of sexism and the movies didn’t fair much better. But as the author himself said “I do not write for the head or the heart. The target of my books is somewhere between the solar plexus and the upper thigh.” James Bond was a creation of the Cold War and the author’s own jet-setting life. Isn’t he out of place now? The makers want us to believe not.

While Bond-readers have dwindled, Bond-watchers are still around. Everyone who has seen a James Bond movie is not a Bondmaniac, but he would have something to say about it. My favourite Bond fantasy is to have Sean Connery as the villain. However, the makers may not want it. It is not easy to stand up to Sir Sean’s charisma and the franchise may just kill itself.

But isn’t that the best thing that could happen? James Bond has gone on for too long. The son of the Cold War should have died with the Cold War. The James Bond franchise today resembles a patient in the ICU with a hundred instruments desperately trying to keep him alive. The gadgets have gotten sillier, the plots (never a Bond strong point) have gotten ludicrous and even the most ardent voyeur would have tired of the guns, girls and cars. Should an entire movie be made just so we hear “the name is Bond, James Bond”?

Like the Charlie Chaplin ‘Tramp’ comedies, like the Andy Hardy musicals, like the Johnny Weizmuller Tarzan flicks, let James Bond remain the product of an era. Let us move on. But Hollywood wouldn’t be Hollywood if it listened to us. So, Casino Royale hits the screens today. Let us watch it and decide if Daniel Craig is worthy of all the brickbats he has been receiving or whether he will surprise us. Either way, one thing is for sure. Shaken or stirred, the Bond cocktail is not about to get empty.

The Blog Begins!

“A good film is when the price of the dinner, the theatre admission and the babysitter were worth it.” - Alfred Hitchcock

This was not supposed to be the name of the blog. But "The Most Beautiful Fraud in the World" was already taken. And the person I asked for help in creating a blog wanted to assert her independence. And I hate wasting stuff. So, Mr. Hitchcock, you'll have to do.

Why am I having a blog. In one word - Backup.

In a different life, I used to write. Movie reviews mainly. And other articles connected with films. And a few other random stuff. The newspaper I used to write folded up/morphed into something else. The online website was no more. And all I had left of my writings were some old newspapers, and a few soft copies. I realise this is another place to save stuff.

And hence I start this blog.

Sorry if you were expecting loftier reasons.

Most of the people who write want someone to read their pieces. So do I. And that is the reason you know about this blog. If what I have written is a subject that interests you and you have the time to read it, please let me know what you think.

"Cinema is the most beautiful fraud in the world." - Jean-Luc Godard