Make this movie, universe! (2): The Once and Future King

Oh, there is nothing as sharp as the pain of the unmade movie. While Hollywood pumps out rehashed drivel, we at the PPCC must sit in silent lamentation that so many classics - Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light! - must remain un-movied, languishing on bookshelves and in our lonely hearts.

Here's another great book that is just begging - BEGGING! - to be made into a film. Or maybe we're the ones doing the begging?



So part of it was made into a film, Disney's Sword in the Stone, which is all fine and well and very nice. But the best part of The Once and Future King, a four-part anachronistic fantasy based on the Arthurian legend, comes later in the story: in particular, The Ill-Made Knight and The Candle in the Wind. In other words, it's the adult portions of the book which are the most poignant, the most true, and the most glorious.

"By the way. You remember that argument we were having about aggression? Well, I have thought of a good reason for starting a war."

Merlyn froze.

"I would like to hear it."

"A good reason for starting a war is simply to have a good reason! For instance, there might be a king who had discovered a new way of life for human beings — you know, something which would be good for them. It might even be the only way from saving them from destruction. Well, if the human beings were too wicked or too stupid to accept his way, he might have to force it on them, in their own interests by the sword."

The magician clenched his fists, twisted his gown into screws, and began to shake all over.

"Very interesting," he said in a trembling voice. "Very interesting. There was just such a man when I was young — an Austrian who invented a new way of life and convinced himself that he was the chap to make it work. He tried to impose his reformation by the sword, and plunged the civilized world into misery and chaos. But the thing which this fellow had overlooked, my friend, was that he had had a predecessor in the reformation business, called Jesus Christ. Perhaps we may assume that Jesus knew as much as the Austrian did about saving people. But the odd thing is that Jesus did not turn the disciples into storm troopers, burn down the Temple at Jerusalem, and fix the blame on Pontius Pilate. On the contrary, he made it clear that the business of the philosopher was to make ideas available, and not to impose them on people."

Plot: King Arthur, with the aid of the wizard Merlin and his Knights of the Round Table, works hard to eradicate Rule by Might and promote Rule by Right in the violent, rough lands of proto-England. Meanwhile, Arthur's best knight, Sir Lancelot, a self-consciously ugly over-achiever, falls in love with Queen Guenever, who finds him sweet (well, he is!). In addition to this usual soap opera, there is the rise of Mordred, Arthur's alienated, unhappy and incest-begat son, who eventually makes war on the kingdom.

This is all textured with some overt and covert allusions to a Europe freshly out of World War II and the unveiling of Nazi concentration camps. Merlin, in particular, lives backwards and so educates Arthur on the importance of ethical rulers and establishing democracies. Arthur's all, "Yeah, right on!", except that his noble intentions - emphasizing the equality of people when it comes to justice - are often tested when things strike close to home (for example, when he discovers Guenever's totally illegal affair).

The story is, much like Lord of Light, told with a gentle air of deeply passionate humanism. Even the most tragic of situations - Lancelot and Guenever's betrayal of Arthur, Mordred's bile - are portrayed with sensitive humor. And there's a lot of time for musing about justice, family and responsibility. This is much less gory swords-and-armor spectacle, and much more J.L. Carr. We at the PPCC did a lot of laughing, crying and sighing.

If people reach perfection they vanish, you know.

The film: First of all, we need a director whose vision would match the dreamy, whimsical quality of the story - we imagine lots of shots of rolling Cotswold hills, soft breezes, modest Camelots and such.

Director

One option is Terrence Malick, who specializes in making that particular breed of thoughtful, impressionistic films closely wedded to expressive shots of nature. Very Emersonian! And a very good choice for balancing the scenes of Elysium (i.e. the quiet times in Camelot) with low-key, pensive violence (à la The Thin Red Line).

Another option would be Ettore Scola, whose grasp of intricately-layered humanity is unmatched! The heart-sticky bittersweetness of Arthur, Lancelot and Guenever would be well-served by the guy who made the funny-sad love quadrangle in C'eravamo tanto amati.

Cast

Now, from about page 1 or so, when Arthur is introduced as a meek "hero-worshipper", a kind of well-intentioned, kinda clumsy, stand-up guy, we thought Kenneth Branagh would be perfect! And indeed Branagh, apart from his Henry V pedigree, has aged into a sort of doughy likability which would suit the adult Arthur well. And who else can capture that vibe of tearful joy than Mr. We few! We happy few! himself?! Or Sir I am Welsh, you know, good countryman?!



Then there's Guenever - "She was pretty Jenny, who could think and feel." Now, we were wracking our brain for a British actress who would fit the bill - Kate Winslet, Helena Bonham Carter, Emma Thompson (the last two would certainly lend a meta air to things!) - but screw it. Hilary Swank or Laura Linney, two highly intelligent actresses who we just love, would be perfect.


OR


And finally Lancelot! Now Lancelot is tricky, as he's very specifically described to be ugly, but actors, by their definition, usually meet some socially-designated minimum of looking good. Steve Buscemi and John C. Reilly seem to have made careers of the distincteness of their features, but we're actually leaning more and more towards Michael Sheen. Blame it on The Damned United, which was so frickin' amazing. And if he can act odiously obnoxious, he can do Lancelot, in all his self-pitying, sadistic, sensitive complexity.



And the soundtrack? Well, how about hiring those history-minded Decemberists to compose some ballads!? OMG NEW ALBUM!

The (spectacular) Ends

Endings can be hard.

Pulling the audience in with a snappy idea can be relatively straightforward - we at the PPCC usually rely on some scatological goodness to draw the reader's eye (POOP) - but letting them go in a satisfying, glorious, sunsetty way is hard.

So what makes a good ending (apart from the sunset)? We think it has to satisfy certain criteria:

• The payoff. This is the MUST of any skilful ending: presumably the story has been building to some sort of conclusion and an ending can be judged by how well it serves that final, match point.
  
• The ability to make the PPCC feel a glowing sense of bittersweet finished-ness. In other words, emotional satisfaction.
  
• Music! Honestly, this is a deal-breaker. Good music has raised mediocre endings to heavenly heights, and lackluster music has muted even the most powerful of conclusions.

So here are, according to us, some of the BEST ENDINGS EVER. As is obvious, MASSIVE SPOILERS for all of these - don't bother reading further if you haven't seen some of these and you value your virginity (narratively-speaking).

1. Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge


Jaa, Simran, jaa! Is larke se zyada pyaar tujhe aur koi nahin kar sakta! / Go, Simran, go! No one could love you more than this boy!

The best ending prop that we can think of, apart from a golden sun, is a train. What better symbol of quickly-accelerating opportunity, of the LAST CHANCE for change, redemption, resolution and joy?

The Hindi classic, DDLJ, cashes in on a 3-hour courtship full of anxiety, hoodwinking and desperate hopes to show us that - yes, YES - the Pater Familias can let his daughter go. Oh my Lord.

Tissue Rating: Pretty epic.

2. Kabhie Alvida Naa Kehna


Preity Zinta forgives you. Shah Rukh Khan loves you. Now you can be happy forever!

Basically, the same deal, the only variation being that this time, parental authority isn't the main obstacle for our lovers, it's chronic misunderstanding and a bad knee. Also features a train.

Tissue rating: Embarrassingly monumental.

3. Battlestar Galactica


I will never deny my agricultural heritage again.

Many people got all huffy with the Luddite deism of the BSG series finale (and, yes, it was a bit facile), but it did - thanks to composer Bear McCreary and actor James Callis, mostly - contain one of the most epic payoffs we've recently experienced. First of all: the long-simmering romance between Admiral Adama (Edward James Olmos) and the dying President Roslin (Mary McDonnell) finally reached the climax that we had been waiting eighty episodes for. And, far more unexpectedly, a single line by Gaius Baltar (James Callis) both resolved and redefined his Odyssean journey in a completely new way for us - talk about backward revisionism! Oh, Gaius. His name means Earth? OF COURSE IT DOES.

Tissue rating: We cried through the credits, through a shower, through a change into our pyjamas and, finally, to sleep.

4. Glory


Start at 5:16.

Talk about going out in a blaze of.

Tissue rating: Huge. HUGE.

5. Goodbye, Farewell and Amen



The end-all, be-all ending from a movie dedicated to the epic conclusion of our favorite series, what can better encapsulate the impermanence of everything (especially the beautiful!) than a simple, honest exchange of love, coupled with some Zen rock gardening?

Tissue rating: If we were to be honest with ourselves, we never really got over this.

6. Insert your ending here

That's what the Comments button is for! We have this itchy feeling on the back of our tongue that we've forgotten some major ones, so please: sharing is caring.

Make this movie, universe!: Lord of Light

Many people in the West think that, in my country, because of our religions, because of our history, because of I don't know what, somehow we are more in tune with our spirituality, more at one with the forces of Nature. Well, we are! So well done, all those people who said that!
- Guru Maharishi Yogi, Goodness Gracious Me

His followers called him Mahasamatman and said he was a god. He preferred to drop the Maha- and the -atman, and called himself Sam. He never claimed to be a god. But then, he never claimed not to be a god. Circumstances being what they were, neither admission could be of any benefit. Silence, though, could.
- the first lines in Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light

A new project here at the PPCC: Make This Movie, Universe!



Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light is one of our favorite books. It combines cross-cultural pollination, spirituality and wacky science fiction with irreverence, comedy and genuine humanism. It is RIGHT up our alley.

Plot: In the far, far, far future, Earth is dead and a nameless new planet has been colonized by the crew of an old ship (the "Star of India"). Living in a post-Singularity-type world, they use advanced technology to transfer consciousness from body to body, as well as get up to other fancy tricks (nuclear-powered chariots, for example). Many generations have passed since the original colonizing of the planet, and the original ship crew (the "First") have now manufactured a literal Hindu reality: they've taken on the roles of gods, reincarnating themselves into Brahma, Vishnu, Kali and so on, and meanwhile keeping the rest of the population (their descendants) stuck in a superstitious, pre-industrial society.


The new British (?) cover. Classy.

One of the "gods" becomes disgusted and disappointed with this endless, unfair cycle of reincarnated oppression, and he decides to shake things up a bit by repeating Earth history and introducing Buddhism. Adopting a new body and calling himself Prince Siddhartha, he goes through the motions of the original story of Buddha - who, for those a bit rusty on their 2,500-year-old Indian history, rose to be one of the main challengers to the Brahmin/Hindu hegemony of the time. Annoyed, the other gods exile him and eventually there is a great battle over the fate of the new planet's humanity and - especially - its soul (if, well, Buddhism believed in a soul).

The book is chock full of hilarious anachronisms and philosophical ironies that turn your brain pretzel-shaped. Shiv Sena's probably not going to like it - the crew member currently reincarnated as an ultra-macho Brahma was a lesbian originally. Similarly, Christian fundamentalists might be annoyed by the subplot of the ship chaplain who rebelled against the faux Hindu hegemony and attempted to mass convert the planet to Christianity using an army of zombies, meanwhile earning the moniker "Prince of Darkness" for himself. And what would Buddhists think of the idea that you can "fake it 'til you make it" on the way to Enlightenment? Or the mish-mashing of the critical atman/anatman (i.e. soul/no-self) discussion?

Well, the book's vibe is more comedy than provocation, and its gentle probing of philosophical issues and ambiguous interpretation should make it stimulating and palatable to anyone who likes to think about this sort of stuff. Such as the PPCC!

"For a spur of the moment thing, you came up with a fairly engaging sermon."
"Thanks."
"Do you really believe what you preached?"
Sam laughed. "I'm very gullible when it comes to my own words. I believe everything I say, though I know I'm a liar."

The film: Now the ever-enthusiastic PPCC is not the only one who thinks this would make a great film. Indeed, Zelazny sold the book rights way back in the 70s, and a truckload of money was set aside to film it and then later market the sets as a science fiction theme park (!). This idea was shelved and then - another twist in the increasingly weird story - the script was used by CIA agents, who posed as film producers, in order to rescue Americans during the Iran hostage crisis! REALLY!

Gosh! They could make a movie about making this movie!

The dream: What would make this movie the end-all, be-all coolest movie ever? Well: the perfect cast and crew, of course! And who would they be? We'll tell you.

Director

Since a Lord of Light film would require a sort of primordial, steampunk-ish, Vedic/pre-Vedic-era India setting, as well as the sci-fi spectacle that is the "Mount Olympus" heaven zone, we need a director with a strong, saturated, zany vision.

Our top choice would be Terry Gilliam. He of former Monty Python fame, we think his bizarre, LSD aesthetics (as seen in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas) would be perfect for the acid trip that is this neo-Hindu/neo-Buddhist world of fakes and charlatans. We also think hippie-fying the proceedings would add an interesting meta critique of the whole Karma Cola hippie trail "New Age"-ist misunderstanding of Hinduism and Buddhism. Eh? EH?!

Otherwise, Mira Nair... no, not because of Monsoon Wedding or (our beloved) Mississippi Masala, but because of her oft-overlooked Vanity Fair, which featured flamboyant fashion (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers' hairstyle, ho ho ho!) and the most spectacular, elephant-riding "oh, dammit, let's just move to India!" ending ever found in film.

Cast

The "hero" role of Sam would require someone who is at once down-to-earth and epic. Someone who can project a sense of superheroics coupled with Everyman good humor. And who is the best Everyman superhero? Duh. Anil Kapoor.

And if Anil Kapoor's going to be Sam, then clearly the role of Kali - who was Sam's wife in previous incarnations, but is now his arch-nemesis - must go to Madhuri Dixit.


No, we never miss an opportunity to sell Anil/Madhuri. And what a comeback vehicle this would be!


Jeevan Ek Sanghursh = Life is a struggle. AKA the First Noble Truth, according to Buddhism. Coincidence? WE THINK NOT! This film - this cast - clearly, it was meant to be!

Now that basically seals the movie's coolness for us, but perhaps there are some philistine unbelievers out there who are not so easily swayed by seeing the Anil/Madhuri pairing in a cheeky film about sci-fi Buddhism. Well, all we can say to such tough nuts is...

A pox on you! Hex, hex!

Goodness gracious us, edited to add: We forgot to talk about one of the main determinants of a film's awesomeness: its soundtrack! No doubt we'll spend the rest of the week fiddling with our iTunes playlists to make the Greatest Most Excellently Awesome Lord of Light Soundtrack Ever... but, off the top of our head, we can say such a soundtrack is likely to include:

1 part Philip Glass or Michael Nyman
1 part Explosions in the Sky or Radiohead in Kid A mode or Sigur Ros
season with old school 1970s masala to taste
a dash of carnatic vocals
and a pinch of George Harrison learning the sitar from Ravi Shankar

...and voila! It would be delicious.

Why should I love: Raj Kapoor?

Oh, Raj Kapoor.


The brief window of Raj Kapoor's ultimate gorgeousness, before he succumbed to the Kapoor familial blobbiness.

Good ol' Raj is a bit of a controversial figure on the blog circuit. While he is revered by mainstream critics of Hindi cinema, he gets a bit abused by our current subculture of the online critic circle (and by our work friends!). The main accusations against good ol' Raj are:

1. Insensitive gender relations and a tendency to objectify his heroines when directing.
2. His style of acting could sometimes spill over into over-the-top self-obsessed indulgence.

Alas, we can't really argue with these - they are, unfortunately, two of his very real weaknesses as an artist. Yet, we still remain very big admirers of Raj Kapoor, mostly because his talents - when they were on full-force - far outweighed his faults.

The thing about Raj was that he was inspiring! For the PPCC, when Raj was on his game, he was the absolute best - no other Indian actor can even compare. He was transcendental. He was open and human and incredibly alive. More than once, we found ourselves not only completely compelled by his performance, but also completely blown away by his talents behind the camera. As a director, he delivered stark visual aesthetics that favored dramatic geometry - sharp diagonals, powerful contrasts of light and dark, moodiness and intensity. As an actor, he could project complexity, vulnerability and loads of charisma and he was especially effective when restrained. We reckon he did his best work in black and white, as his efforts in color (notably, his post-Nargis efforts) - Satyam Shivam Sundaram and Mera Naam Joker - paled (pardon the pun!) in comparison.


Help us, reader log, what film is this from?

He didn't have great jodi power with his male costars - we recall seeing a Dilip Kumar/Raj Kapoor film where both leads seemed ill at ease, and Sangam's Raj Kumar/Raj Kapoor pair was likewise flat - but his pairing with female costars was far more succesful, the most famous being his relationship (both on- and off-screen) with Nargis.


A very cute behind-the-scenes photo of Nargis and Raj. Yay, Google images!

Many actors since his era have tried to emulate him, in particular our current house favorite, Anil Kapoor. Apparently when Anil Kapoor saw Awaara, he was blown away (much like the PPCC!) and decided to be an actor (we just decided to watch more Raj Kapoor movies). Funny then that we should have called Anil's performance in Yuvvraaj a "Raj Kapoor in Awaara type of performance" - and indeed, the more we watch of Anil, the more we see how he's inherited quite a bit from the Raj Kapoor legacy (e.g. Virasat, Eeshwar). Apparently there was some idea floated around last year of making a Raj Kapoor biopic with Anil Kapoor in the lead. Despite no physical resemblance (what will we do about Raj's huge, expressive, emo eyebrows?), we think this is a fantastic idea. (Ooh, and OMG, who would play Nargis?!) DO IT, PEOPLE IN CHARGE. DOOOOO ITTTTTTT.

Anyway.

Why should I love: Raj Kapoor?

1. The unique, transcendental power!

2. The gorgeous, painful subtlety!

3. The shades of Shakespearean wistful sarcasm!

4. His ability to combine radical dystopian aesthetics with "patriotic schmaltz"!

5. And, well, the PPCC likes to watch him cry, too.

Why should I love: Amitabh Bachchan?

The fourth installment in our Why should I love? series. We initially were very anti-Amitabh, but we've come around since then - oh, how we've come around.



Why should I love: Amitabh Bachchan?

1. You should love Amitabh because sometimes he gets so excited by your qawwali that he starts singing the refrain.

2. You should love Amitabh because he's not above disguising himself in order to settle a marriage.

3. You should love Amitabh because he has great bedside manner.

4. You should love Amitabh because he is anti-dowry.

5. You should love Amitabh because he sometimes teams up with PRAN!!!

6. You should love Amitabh because sometimes he gets so involved in your ghazal singing that he finishes the whole song.

7. You should love Amitabh because, like Shashi, he cares about worker's rights.

8. You should love Amitabh because he is capable of being a compelling narrator even when not actually narrating.

9. You should love Amitabh because he puts Bruce Lee posters up on his walls.

10. You should love Amitabh because he dishes out revenge like it was a Monopoly game.

Fake trailer: Naina (1973) - full-length

Because once is never enough for laddoos, pizza, you-know-what, and fake trailers. Consider our last trailer merely a teaser, something to warm you up for the batshit intensity of Gogol Bordello-fied drama. Because what's better than a good thing? Two good things mashed together!

Specs
Software: the usual
Music: Ultimate by Gogol Bordello
Film: Read the PPCC review! Buy it for yourself! Watch the teaser!

Fake trailer: Naina (1973)

Specs
Software: Windows Movie Maker
Music: La Bambola by Patty Pravo
Film: Read the PPCC review! Buy it for yourself!

The idea for this trailer came to us long ago, in the form of a bowl of cereal. We decided the best way to advertise a heart-wrencher about emotional wounds would be... well, OK, we actually wanted to use Gogol Bordello's Ultimate and go BANANAS, featuring lots of drunken lurching and yelling and DRAMA, but then Windows Movie Maker crashed. So instead we used our vanilla fallback option: faking one of those ultra-chic Italian trailers that feature only evocative Patty Pravo songs and no dialogue, where you have no idea what the movie's actually about but you still want to see it. So mysteriously glamorous! Also, dig the meta: Pravo's from Venice. Whee! (And the Gogol Bordello one might be happening anyway, just because the PPCC needs to send some love to those guys.)

In related news

Just to show the PPCC not only taketh, but it also giveth to the YouTube, we've uploaded two more songs from Naina: the very sweet one where Moushmi fantasizes about Shashi in and on top of her car and the fabulous Best Shashi Song Ever, which we hereby declare the Official PPCC Theme Song.

Fake trailer: Vijeta (1982)

Ah, there's nothing quite like seeing all your blood, sweat and tears produce something fabulously mediocre. We give ourselves a C for output, but A for frickin' effort. Anyone else want to take up the mantle and make a better one? Pleease.

Specifications:
Software: Windows Movie Maker
Music: A-Punk by Vampire Weekend (no postcolonial pun intended), For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti by Sufjan Stevens.
Crappy subtitles: the PPCC's tenuous grasp of Hindi + a lot of guessing
Target audience: trendy hipsters, thoughtful international/art cinema market, the PPCC's mom
Film: Read the PPCC review! Read the Planet Bollywood review! Buy it for yourself!

Well, this was a bitch to make.

We wish we could say it was a bitch because of technical issues - the constrictive Windows Movie Maker, our sluggish RAM - but, in all honesty, it was just hard because our creativity apparently doesn't extend as far as movie trailers, as we previously thought. Those things are trickier than they look, man! Especially the whole musical changes - how the frick do you change the music in these things without making it incredibly jarring? How?!

Anyway, we assume the PPCC is the only entity on the internet right now making hipster-style movie trailers for old Hindi films, so at least we have novelty value. Our noble mission is to make some of our recently PPCCed, older movies more enticing for the average young person with the cunning use of fake trailers. Our secret, Crazy Person mission is that, one day, a Prithvi Theatre employee finds this, quickly goes to their boss and exclaims, "Boss ji! Boss ji! Arre, Shashi ji! We think we've found someone with fresh, raw talent, heaps of enthusiasm and a passion for learning Hindi! And it's not Gonzo! Maybe we should invite the PPCC to Mumbai in some sort of well-paid, creative (or even just peripheral) capacity?" That's looking unlikely, given how crappy the trailer actually is, but maybe we'll get charity points for trying?

Come on, we're advertising your movies for free, Shashi ji! FOR FREE.

Drunk-Off: I'm not act, I'm drunking!

Memsaab's hilarious gift and our last review reminded us of a project we had waiting in the wings:



Readers of the PPCC became all manner of upset during the various Dance Off!!s - whining and complaining that their favorite actor wasn't well represented, that the PPCC was dictatorial, that the contest was a sham.

Well, the PPCC doesn't take such accusations lightly. Our reputation was at stake! So we decided to take care of it... tomorrow.

That was several months ago. Anyway, the inspiration for the Drunk Off (!!) was actually Swayamvar. A Friend of the PPCC and the PPCC were watching the hilarities, and the Friend of the PPCC (FOF-PPCC) commented, "Hmm, he's really a ham." The "ham" in question being our beloved Shashi Kapoor. Quick to defend our sab se bara hiro, the PPCC exclaimed, "Well, acting drunk is difficult!" FOF-PPCC agreed, saying, "Indeed. Perhaps that's a true measure of an actor's greatness." A light dawned. Yes, we thought, yes! It is!

The PPCC knows and loves four Indian actors most of all: Shah Rukh Khan, Amitabh Bachchan, Naseeruddin Shah, and our beloved Shashi Kapoor. All four have had notable scenes of drunkenness. They will thus now compete. For those of you that couldn't stand to see Shashi lose, here's your chance!

But first...

To open the proceedings, we turn to:

• the hauntingly beautiful (and much-covered) Between the Bars by the late Elliott Smith;
  
• the wonderfully bizarre and lyrical (and also much-covered) Jockey Full of Bourbon by Tom Waits;
  
• one of Rumi's poems

1. Shah Rukh Khan.
Things to note: By most accounts, SRK doesn't drink and is therefore unaware of what drunkenness feels like. This would explain his complete inability to play drunk realistically, and his frequent choice of just hamming it up like a piece of sinful ham.



Nonetheless we must admit that this song from Devdas is very appealing; as all things SRK, it is wonderfully choreographed, boisterous fun. Toss realism out the window and let's dance, yaar! Kudos also to Sanjay Leela Bhansali for lurching cameras which make us dizzy. And to Madhuri and Jackie, just because we like them so gosh darned much in this song.


2. Amitabh Bachchan

Drunken Amitabh scenes usually feature a very tearful, sweaty-faced Amitabh. We don't know what this is about. Why so much moisture? What is he so upset about? Even when he's supposed to be happy, he looks upset! See Silsila, Amar Akbar Anthony and Suhaag for notable Amitabh scenes of drunkenry. We take our song, however, from the end-all, be-all of Amitabh drunkenry, Sharaabi (Alcoholic).



Despite being similar to SRK's spin-top OTTness, the PPCC loves this song and loves it when the brass band kicks in. And when Amitabh blows a kiss to the audience?! Best moment ever. And, OK, the song itself is actually pretty spectacular overall: Give us some love, love, love, love... O de de pyaar de pyaar de...


3. Shashi Kapoor

Shashi Kapoor, who straddled mainstream Bollywood, Western Orientalist films and Hindi arthouse, certainly displayed a great range of drunkenness. He could play it like a ham, he could play it relatively subtle, he could play it a bit more Orientalized (Welcome to India!). Etcetera etcetera etcetera!

Like Amitabh's song, we take our Shashi song from the end-all, be-all of Shashi drunkenry, Naina.



We think these two get extra points just for gettin' down with their bad selves. And for Shashi's bizarre "Naughty!" and general lecherousness and undercurrent of sweet, sweet sadness.


4. Naseeruddin Shah

OK, as usual, Naseeruddin Shah just shames everyone else with his nuanced, ultra-realist performances. Even in a relatively mainstream film such as Naajayaz, in what is essentially a remake of Amitabh's De De Pyaar De, Naseer still manages to make things real, mostly by underplaying it. And never mind that it's such a pretty song... Abhi zinda huun, to ji lene do! Bhari barsaat mein pi lene do! I'm still alive, so let me live! It's raining hard, so let me drink!



And if that doesn't convince you, Naseer has another excellent drunken song in that film of legendary sweetness, Masoom:




The vote!

Now it's your turn, democracy lovers! While the PPCC will try to sway you (vote Naseer), it is up to YOU to click the right button on the right-hand side poll. Happy voting!

Update!

The votes are in and, yea, all is right with the world, for our beloved Shashi Kapoor has been recognized for the talent that he is! Who else can play a fabulous variety of drunken people? No one, the PPCC voter declares.

1. Shashi Kapoor (41%)
2. Shah Rukh Khan (27%)
3. Amitabh Bachchan (21%)
4. Naseeruddin Shah (10%)

Why should I love: Shah Rukh Khan?

The third in our Why should I love? project. Honestly, ever since we read Anupama Chopra's biography of him, our SRK mystique has been destroyed. You mean he's not Rahul?! Ah, but such is life! These people are human, too, not just gods of our idolatry.

Today, after a long dry spell of SRKness, we re-watched the passable Kal Ho Naa Ho. We wondered afresh what is it about SRK that makes him so compelling? A very good actor, in the traditional (perhaps Western?) notion of Oscar-winners and Shakespeare-doers, he is not. And yet he's such a great performer! Maybe it's his adorable dimples and fab ability to shake his butt. Or maybe it's just intelligence as an entertainer! He just knows how to please. We'd say his bouncy charm is best-used in ironic, self-deprecating ways - such as in Farah Khan's films. In those films, SRK can be his over-the-top, magnetic best, and we don't have to worry about things like traditional "actorly realism".


SRK in a wonderfully hammy moment from Farah Khan's Om Shanti Om.

Why should I love: Shah Rukh Khan?

1. You should love SRK because he loves movies as much as the PPCC does, and sometimes is compelled to shake out of his theatre seat to dance along. You go, man!

2. You should love SRK because sometimes he loses the girl.

3. You should love SRK because sometimes he falls for the wrong girl.

4. You should love SRK because sometimes he goes a bit mental for the girl. OK, more than a bit.

5. You should love SRK because sometimes he loves the girl so much he will take on human form... and he's cute in a moustache.

6. You should love SRK because sometimes he is imprisoned for 22 years because he loved the wrong girl.

7. You should love SRK because sometimes he loves the boy. Ooh, Kantaben!

8. You should love SRK because sometimes he loves his science teacher and then makes adorably stupid puns on their "chemistry" together.

9. You should love SRK because will go to great lengths not to elope with the girl.

10. You should love SRK because, when not busy loving and losing and marrying girls, he also cares about the poor.

Previously in this series:

• Shashi Kapoor
  
• Naseeruddin Shah

Democracy kind of failed. Back to tyrrany.

Thank you all very much for voting. The poll has now closed, and, after 49 votes, the results are:

1. Karz
2. Bluffmaster (Shammi's)
3. Mard
4. Doosra Aadmi & Tridev
5. The Householder
6. Guru
7. Anari, some other 60s Shammi one, the random Vinod/Randhir one, Sindoor, and some Pedro Almodovar

So yesterday, the PPCC sat down, all pleased with itself, to watch Karz. No subtitles. Curses! How embarrassing! The PPCC, however, did not despair (yet). We put in Bluffmaster. No subtitles. Curses again! We put in the other 60s Shammi one. No subtitles. Aaaargh.

Which means we'll be watching...

MAAARRRRDDDDD!!!
...in the meantime. Since so many of you were keen on Karz and Shammi, though, we'll pay a visit to Grumpy Uncle Ji or possibly Other Uncle Ji and see about scrounging them out, with subs. Or else we'll just watch them without subs, and you'll have to suffer through a review that's like, "Uhh... Rishi asks what happened, and then says a bunch of other stuff."

We know. We know. We know what you're thinking. Get it together, PPCC!

We also completely forgot to list about a handful of other unwatched movies in the original poll:

1. Vijeta. 80s. (FINALLY!) Shashi, Rekha, Shashi's son. Govind Nihalani directed. Parallel Cinema, military, our most recent Holy Grail of Shashi films.
2. Kranti. 70s. Manoj, Shatrughan, Shashi, Hema, British oppression, craziness.
3. Pyaasa. 50s. Guru Dutt. We forgot Guru Dutt.
4. Sahib Biwi Aur Ghulam. 60s. Yes. We forgot two Guru Dutt films.
5. Asoka. 2000s. SRK, Buddhism, costume epic. What's not to love?

Sigh.

A completely unrelated note about filmi qawwalis

The PPCC loves Sufism, big time. And the PPCC loves qawwalis, bigger time. So inspiring! So devotional! Who wouldn't feel filled with transcendental awe of the divine after listening to Faiz Ali Faiz's most excellent Dam Mast Qalandar?

Anyway, if you've watched Hindi films, you'll know that qawwalis show up fairly regularly - sometimes presented as fun parodies (such as the acrobatic Parda Hai Parda from Amar Akbar Anthony, or the hilariously over-the-top Tumse Milke Dil Ka Jo Haal from Main Hoon Na), sometimes presented a little more earnestly (such as Khwaja Mere Khwaja from Jodhaa-Akbar), and sometimes as inventive variations on the original (Chaiyya Chaiyya from Dil Se really takes the cake for that). Man, it's all good.

But this article at allmusic doesn't seem to think so, and spends a lot of time disparaging filmi qawwalis: they are "bland", "garish", and they "strayed ever closer to disrespect for the music's origins". Oh my! The problem with the article is that it spends so much time disparaging filmi qawwalis, and not nearly enough time explaining what exactly is so wrong with them. Sure, "a low-budget parody of a Las Vegas chorus line" is an easy target for ridicule and certainly doesn't inspire sublime devotion... but we at the PPCC can't help thinking the article comes across as just snobbish. Man, and filmi stuff already gets trash-talked by the Western intelligentsia enough!

What we'd like to read instead is a more in-depth analysis of filmi qawwalis. What do real live qawwals think about them? Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, nephew of the legendary Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, doesn't seem to have a problem with filmi qawwalis, as he sings a lot of them (e.g. the haunting Naina from Omkara)! What do lay Muslims think about them? We at the PPCC would think that filmi qawwalis are a positive force, in that they are a fairly standardized way of asserting minority Muslim culture in Hindi films. Everyone loves a good qawwali!

Anyway, thoughts? Feelings?

Democracy rules!

Inspired by the bit in Ghungroo where the plebeian masses knock down the doors of the gilded mahal, the PPCC has decided to fling open its doors to you, YOU, dear readers. Yes, we are temporarily going democratic, mostly because we have a pile of unwatched movies, and we often sit in front of it, fidgeting slightly and wringing our hands. Oh, indecision! Oh, torturous indecision! We don't know what to watch. We just don't know!

So we've decided to try for an experiment in democracy. We tell you the names on the pile, and you tell us what to review next.

Here are the options:

1. Karz. 80s. Rishi Kapoor. Featuring the titular song and much of the inspiration for Om Shanti Om.
2. Anari. 50s. Raj Kapoor. Want yet more thoughtful, quiet Raj? Us too!
3. Doosra Aadmi. 70s. Rishi, Shashi and Neetu, at it again.
4. The Householder. 60s. Very young Shashi, in a Merchant-Ivory fare.
5. Rahu Ketu. 70s. Shashi and Rekha play second bananas to the awesomeness that is Pran.
6. Do Musafir. 70s. Shashi and Rekha and Pran, at it again. This looks charmingly rural.
7. Bluffmaster 60s. Shammi. We still haven't seen a properly Shammi movie (Parvarish doesn't count). Added bonus: black and white Manmohan Desai!
8. Some other 60s Shammi one.
9. Vinod/Randhir #1. OK, so we were sort of desperate when we bought these.
10. Vinod/Randhir #2.
11. Mard. 80s. Amitabh. Manmohan Desai. Some really crazy shit goes down, apparently.
12. Ganga ki Saugand. 70s. Amitabh, Rekha, Pran, Amjad Khan. Also charmingly rural. Stuff happens in Benares.
13. Anhonee. 50s. Raj Kapoor. Really low-fi, black and white.
14. Guru. 2006ish. Abhishek, Aishwarya. Mani Ratnam directs, Roshan Seth makes a long-overdue comeback.
15. Jaaydaad. 80s. Shashi being a non-hero, lawyer type.
16. Sindoor. 80s. Aging Shashi in one of his last romantic hero roles.
17. Tridev. 80s. Sunny Deol, Jackie Shroff, Naseeruddin Shah, Amrish Puri and lots of 80s fun. Music is fab. Features the fabulous Tirchi Topiwale song.
18. Hum Paanch. 80s. Naseeruddin Shah, Raj Babbar. Parallel cinema. Update of Mahabharata or possibly Ramayana.
19. Nastik. 50s. Ajit. Atheist movie, reviewed by Memsaab, looks fab.

Or, if you're tired of Hindi, we've got about five Pedro Almodovar movies on our hands as well as Dune (yeah!).

MOTHER OF GOD. Over 20 films?!

That's it. Film buying embargo until we get through at least 15 of these suckers. We are so ashamed. Oh, what you must think of us! Oh, shame.

We're going away in the mountains this weekend to purify our eyes of television monitor rays and our pores of city grime, and so we will leave the poll running 'til then. Feel free to vote as many times as you wish, and we will guarantee that we will watch and review whichever film wins the poll.

Why should I love: Naseeruddin Shah?

The second in our Why should I love? series. Naseeruddin Shah was actually the reason we started watching Hindi movies, as we enjoyed Monsoon Wedding so much that we immediately started asking every Desi friend of ours to recommend more Naseer. The most recommended movie? See #1.

After nearly 100+ Hindi films, we still maintain that Naseer is India's best actor. Raj Kapoor was too variable. Shashi was reliably studly but also very predictable. If we continue with the Radiohead parallels, Naseer's like Kid A - the super-intelligent album that bucks all anticipation, refuses to conform, and refuses to play the popularity contest. Here's a Glastonbury performance of Idioteque from the Kid A album, and here's our favorite song from Masoom and one of our favorite Naseer scenes ever.


Talking to the big guy upstairs in Bezubaan.

Why should I love: Naseeruddin Shah?

1. You should love Naseer because he may make mistakes sometimes, but, hey, we're all human.

2. You should love Naseer because he loves movies as much as the PPCC does!

3. You should love Naseer because he is a kindly mob boss

4. You should love Naseer because he appreciates fine poetry.

5. You should love Naseer because he may be proud, but is not averse to learning and growing as a human being.

6. You should love Naseer because he's all about power to the people.

7. You should love Naseer because he sometimes is the people!

8. You should love Naseer because he can crack some really off-color jokes at the worst times.

9. You should love Naseer because he will fetch things for you and generally keep quiet, at least during the day.

10. You should love Naseer because he knows how to kick it, grumpy, paternal-style.

Why should I love: Shashi Kapoor?

This will be part of our newest series, the Why should I love? series, which will aggregate our favorite movies of our favorite actors so that you too can understand why they are so appealing to us.

We'll start with our man of the moment, Shashi Kapoor.


All shiny and new in 1975. We love you, Shashi ji!! Sorry for objectifying you all the time.

Honestly, Shashi's like a Radiohead album. For example, Hail to the Thief. You start by listening to the hits - 2+2=5 or There There or Aa Gale Lag Jaa - like ten gajillion times. But then, once you are sated of those to the point where you can anticipate every beat, you start turning to the lesser-played tracks - like Where I End And You Begin (which is such a fabulous song) or Immaan Dharam or Ghungroo - and then they become your new favorites.

But we have moved even beyond that in our current Shashi season. We've gotten to the point of loving the live Glastonbury version of Where I End or, that is, 80s Shashi.

Is this making any sense? It made sense in the car earlier.

Anyway, the point is: we love Radiohead, we love Shashi Kapoor. Just like we prefer abstract, pomo Radiohead of Kid A, so do we usually prefer hard-core Byronic masala Shashi of Chor Sipahee. Just like Radiohead had their pop days, so Shashi had his pop days. And so on.

Why should I love: Shashi Kapoor?

Oh, let us count the ways.

1. You should love Shashi because he is a great single father who takes his son on elephant and pony rides.

2. You should love Shashi because he really cares about worker's rights.

3. You should love Shashi because he will begrudgingly drive you home when you're wasted... and then fall in love with you, despite himself!

4. You should love Shashi because he looks great in pearl earrings.

5. You should love Shashi because he loves India to the point of wanting to pay taxes.

6. You should love Shashi because even though that love of India might turn a bit xenophobic, he still has an adorable way of talking to himself.

7. You should love Shashi because sometimes nobody loves him.

8. You should love Shashi because he looks good at all stages of facial hair progression.

9. You should love Shashi because sometimes he looked like he was made of plastic, all shiny and new.

10. You should love Shashi because he takes time off from being a jet pilot to sing transcendental songs in the park.


The gratuitous cute Shashi pic. Yeah. Couldn't help it.

What about Vinod Khanna et al.?

The PPCC spends a lot of time waxing stalkerish about the likes of Shashi Kapoor, Shah Rukh Khan, Amitabh Bachchan or Naseeruddin Shah. It's true. These four actors are the pillars on which our love of Hindi movies was built. They cover a goodly range: Amitabh and Shah Rukh providing the old school and modern superstardom, respectively, Shashi the link (and OMG hot stud muffin) between mainstream, arthouse and Raj Revival cinema, and Naseer kicking it arthouse style. But sometimes we read our own blog and think: "Tut. What about Vinod Khanna?"

What about Vinod Khanna? Or, underappreciated PPCC faves. That is, people we like but have not yet actively sought out.


Stud in the house.

1. Vinod Khanna. Just the other day we were at Grumpy Uncle Ji's, and we were despairing because the only Shashi DVDs available were Sindoor (big mistake) and Alag Alag (bigger mistake). We were scraping the dregs like desperate Shashi addicts. We just need a hit! Just one more freaking hit! Then we saw Vinod Khanna's pleasant-looking face staring out at us, and we felt a warm glow of familiarity. Oh, Vinod. You'll always be there for us, won't you? And you know what, we love you, Vinod, we really do. Even if you sucked big-time in Parvarish (but only because you were evil), you were sufficiently awesome in Muqaddar ka Sikandar and Chor Sipahee that we have since developed a wee crush on you. You've also managed to make us cry really hard now and again (the last scene in Muqaddar ka Sikandar!), a cathartic release and something even our beloved Shashi has since been incapable of doing. Added bonuses: we think we found your home phone number once on the internet and seriously considered Skypeing you, but then thought, "Well, what do you say to Vinod Khanna? Uh, 'Hi. You are freaking awesome. Do you have Shashi ji's number?'?" You are also one of the few actors (excepting the Big B) who has retained his 1970s good looks even into advanced age. And your hair in Chor Sipahee was lush, like a mountain of ice cream lush.


Tinnu in Bombay.

2. Tinnu Anand. We at the PPCC are big fans of lazy eyes. Big, big fans. We think Forest Whitaker's best facet is his lazy eye. See with what menace he wields it in The Last King of Scotland! Tinnu Anand has such a lazy eye which he wields with similar menace when needed - consider, for example, his turn as the evil right-wing Hindu extremist in Bombay, or his turn as Rani's evil uncle in Laaga Chunari Mein Daag, or his turn as Om Puri's slimy and slightly evil publisher in In Custody, or his turn as the not-really-evil dog lover in China Gate, or his evil-with-a-heart-of-gold mob boss in Ram Jaane. Suffice to say, Tinnu knows how to kick it with his lazy eye, evil style. But not only that, we have a big soft spot for actors which unconventional looks - e.g. Geoffrey Rush. It reminds us of our favorite book, The Once and Future King by T.H. White, where Lancelot is described as not really very conventionally handsome, and yet completely beloved by Guinevere. Yes, Tinnu, we beloved you! And sometimes we think Roshan Seth and Tinnu Anand should play brothers in a movie, with Tinnu being the evil brother who is also way awesomer and gets to be redeemed in the end. Added bonus: Tinnu is awesome behind the camera as well!


Om in My Son the Fanatic.

3. Om Puri. Om really shouldn't be here, since he probably counts as the fifth pillar to our Hindi movie love. But it's also true that we were led into Parallel Cinema more by Naseer's awesomeness, with Om tagging along. And often Om was outshone by the emoting and bombast of Naseer's actorly acrobatics. But there's just something about Om that Naseer does not have, can never have. Om has such a way with looking sardonic, his droll expressions, his quiet exasperation. When Naseer and Om faced each other in the Dance Off, we were secretly cheering for Om, just because he's just so... Omy. Om, unlike Naseer, also has a somewhat unexpected hotness; at least, whereas Naseer In Love never really did it for us, Om In Love was hot! And adorable. We love you, Om! Added bonus: Om also makes the most BAD-ASS movies of all, those being postcolonial cinema: My Son the Fanatic, East is East, and he played our favorite character in the TV adaptation of Zadie Smith's White Teeth (that being Samad).


Neetu in Parvarish.

4. Neetu Singh. Although Rishi insists it was her decision, Neetu's disappearance from superstardom usually gets blamed on him. We at the PPCC can't help it, but, well: why, Rishi, why!? This is madness. Neetu was awesome. Yes, more awesome than you. WAY more awesome than you. She was like, if Shashi was a woman and like ten million times more adorable, that would be Neetu. We at the PPCC unfortunately always forget about Neetu because of her 'now you see her, now you don't' celebrity status, but then - when we watch Parvarish or Kaala Patthar or see pictures of her son, Ranbir Kapoor - we are suddenly reminded that Neetu is just so adorably awesome!


Shatrughan was a big fan of these wide-collar monotone khaki outfits.

5. Shatrughan Sinha. Like Neetu, another masala favorite that we always forget about but always get really, really happy when we see them onscreen. Also, like Tinnu, Shatrughan possesses a physical attribute of Villainy: the scar. No doubt because of that little scar by his mouth, Shatrughan was doomed (blessed?) to play morally ambiguous hard-asses: the ex-con and murderer with a heart of gold (not coal!) in Kaala Patthar, the rival romancer and doctor with dubious Freudian techniques in Aa Gale Lag Jaa. Added bonuses: Shatrughan and Amitabh have been snipping at each other via Amitabh's blog (!) and the Times of India recently. Shatrughan, like Amitabh and Vinod, is also aging well and retaining much of his 1970s goodlooking appeal. The scar still stands!


Iftikhar in Fakira.

6. Iftikhar. The man was in everything! EVERTHING. And despite playing policewallahs left and right, he also displayed surprising range when given half a chance - just check his uncharacteristic turn as the leery, lecherous thakur in Teesri Kasam.


Aww, Om Prakash. We know you don't mean to be evil. It just happens sometimes.

7. Om Prakash. There's a reason Farah Khan chose to name her squirrelly, starstruck hero "Om Prakash Makhija" in Om Shanti Om. It's because how can you not love Om? He's just such wholesome hilarity, like wheat pizza. The first time we PPCCed him was as the misguided, overprotective, kind of evil but still with a heart of gold Father-in-law in Aa Gale Lag Jaa. The sequence when Om's character melts in the rays of his (unacknowledged) grandson's cuteness, and they play marbles on the couch, and the little boy feeds Om an apple, and Om goes in to kiss his grandson's hair but is then startled back to reality by the arrival of his daughter (the mother of the grandson, unbeknownst to her... well, it's Manmohan Desai, what can you expect?) - anyway, all that was GOLD. Pure, unpolished, magical GOLD. Om then kicked further ass as the grieving father in Zanjeer, the horny gender-bending serf in Kanyadaan, and over-loved grandfather in Namak Halaal. Heck, even Om's cameo appearance in Do Aur Do Paanch makes everything all the sweeter.


Ram P. Sethi. He's like Dick Van Dyke and John Astin's love child.

8. Ram P. Sethi. In an age of Johnny Levers, the PPCC feels sharp pangs of nostalgia for the populist comedians of 1970s masala: Om Prakash and Ram P. Sethi. What Ram P. Sethi had - apart from his dopey expressions and slapstick - was a certain melancholy about him. At least, he was in Muqaddar ka Sikandar as the friend who introduces Sikandar to alcohol and courtesans. And no one emerged from Muqaddar ka Sikandar unscathed, with optimism intact. The depressing existentialism of the movie was so pervasive that even Ram P. Sethi's goofy sidekick act seemed to imply a deeper, darker depression underneath. Anyway, if you can't take that sort of heaviness, just watch Ram P. Sethi in Namak Halaal, where he wear a funny little cartoon journalist outfit, or in Do Aur Do Paanch, where, as I recall, he appears briefly only to be punched in the face or something.


WE LOVE YOU, PRAN!!!!

9. Pran. PRAN. PRAAAAAN.. It's kind of a lie that he's underappreciated by the PPCC. We love this guy BIG TIME. Like BIG BIG TIME.


Sanjeev in Swayamvar.

10. Sanjeev Kumar. Sanjeev is so underappreciated that sometimes we wonder about his being underappreciated. The power of his goodness is strong in Silsila, and indeed, with that relatively underwritten supporting role, he manages to convey so much, with such nuance, that - well, dammit, Sanjeev knew what he was doing! We were relieved and pleased, then, when we met someone who said their favorite actor was Sanjeev Kumar.


Sorry, Piyush, all you're getting is a pic taken from Rediff.

11. Piyush Mishra. Piyush has a sort of lazy, drooping-eyelids good humor which makes him stand out in all of his roles - the doomed Banquo update in Maqbool (aka the Mumbai Macbeth), the Pakistani friend of Abhishek's "My best friend is Pakistani!" hilarious character in Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, even as the hounding detective in Dil Se. We love him! And he can wear hot pink two-tone sherwani suits with a straight face, bless him.

Dance Off!! (3): Baby B vs. SRK

It's that time of the month again! No, not that time...



For new readers or those needing a refresher course, our current standings are:

1. Dance Off!! (1): Big B vs. Shashilicious. Winner: Amitabh.
2. Dance Off!! (2): Naseer vs. Om. Winner: Naseer.

Hence, Amitabh Bachchan and Naseeruddin Shah will be facing off in the semi-finals. We at the PPCC are most pleased of this, we've already noted before how they are like the dual patriarchs of Hindi cinema: the Patriarch of Bollywood and the Patriarch of the Parallel New Wave. Like the yin and the yang. Like the Roman Catholic Pope and the Eastern Orthodox Pope. Like... OK, we can't think of anymore. Anyway, yes. Woohoo! We already have a song picked out, and it's going to be freakin' PERFECT, and, OMG, readership, you will not be able to accuse us of giving a biased competition, because this song is seriously daaaa bomb and an excellent method of comparison.

A small note for concerned Shashi lovers: As you know, the PPCC's beloved darling is Shashi Kapoor. He, however, justifiably and fairly lost the first Dance Off. While we are sorry for this, we cannot deny that Shashi was about as graceful as an elephant when it came to dancing. He was charming, fo' sho', but we could detect no rhyme nor reason to his flailing arms and legs. And while we, of course, love this gracelessness and embrace it as part of the Shashi Package, many of you expressed dismay at his early disqualification from the runnings. We've considered several solutions: ignoring your comments, putting Shashi in some special category of Second Best Actor, running a separate contest geared to make Shashi win (such as a smile contest, or a crying contest, or a charm contest), and so forth. We've decided to do this: whoever makes it to the final cyan-colored star, whoever is judged Best Dancer, will face Shashi again, but you must pick the song and leave it in the comments. Whichever song gets most recommended, we run. If no song gets more than 1 vote, we exercise the dictatorship and pick our favorite. If no song is even suggested, Shashi remains disqualified.

Today's contest: Abhishek Bachchan vs. Shah Rukh Khan.

The difficulty in today's contest is that Abhishek, like Shashi, has never been known for his dancing skills, whereas SRK always tries so hard. Pitting SRK's Chaiyya Chaiyya or Dhoom Tana against anything pretty much decimates its chances. Similarly, it's just hard to find a good, meaty Abhishek number. We initially thought, in an effort of balance, of comparing Rock and Roll Soniya (wherein SRK has a bad leg) with Mitwa (wherein SRK has a few moments of boogying) from Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna - but that's too much of a handicap (OMG pun not intended!) for the Baby B and, plus, no one seems to like KANK except us.

But lo, we saw Jhoom Barabar Jhoom the other day and found Abhishek's dancing charming and engaging, for once! So there you are.

Baby B: He may not be flexible, but he can be ironic!
Though he arguably dances more in Jhoom Barabar Jhoom's title song, we get distracted from the cuteness that is Bobby Deol, and so we're using Ticket to Hollywood instead. (Though, given that the JBJ title song is an actual dance-off, we recommend watching it as well.) One of the few purely Abhishek item numbers we've ever seen, marvel at how he stays in character: his sloppy kicks during the refrain, his silly mugging, his slightly trampy quality. This is not graceful dancing, but pure, slightly vulgar fun. Shabash.



SRK: Ya love 'im or ya hate 'im
This is actually the PPCC's favorite SRK song ever. We have a very soft spot for 1990s, proto-SRK SRK, and songs like this and the title song from Ram Jaane have remained our favorites for a long time. And we've never even seen the films (Duplicate, Ram Jaane), though it's only a matter of time.

This is a good comparison to the above as well, since, like Ticket to Hollywood, there's a lot of physical comedy and mugging in Mere Mehboob. The choreography also seems a lot more interesting (all that hip-shaking, that shimmying!), though admittedly not as interestingly filmed.

The PPCC Choice: Jury's still out!

PPCC Readership, it's up to YOU to decide whose butt boogies more: Abhishek's or Shah Rukh's. Vote in the poll on the side!

Moments of Transcendental Aesthetic (2)

In our previous entry in the Sublime series, we mentioned that we could not recall a single moment of Sublime aesthetic enjoyment that did not involve a healthy degree of eroticism. i.e. That didn't involve our current celebrity crush. As we said, philosophers like Clive Bell would deem us philistines for letting such tawdry emotional involvement get in the way of our pure aesthetic Taste, essentially turning Beauty into soft porn. But we would challenge that view: surely rather than undermining a legitimate aesthetic appreciation, an initial, less refined attraction for things like SRK's tense eyebrows or Shashi Kapoor's head wobble can open doors to greater things - namely, the Sublime. Consider this: enjoyment of a piece of art naturally inspires us to expore it further, to want to familiarize ourselves with it, learn more about it, understand it. While the ice-breaker might be something a bit more vulgar - even just a song which we think is fun to watch - that charmed and open-hearted attitude will lead to more high-brow investigations. That is to say, if the Sublime is artgasm, then watching something because you like Amitabh's boogy is artdating.

Or, in another simile, it's like Maslow's hierarchy of needs, only applied to aesthetics: you need to address your more basic needs (I want to enjoy it) before you get too cerebral (I want to achieve a higher plane of existence).

That said, there are films where the intellectual stimulation is enough to pull an emotional involvement along with it: for example, Children of Men. Similarly, there are celebrity crushes which have developed after an onslaught of intelligent shots indicating a familiarity with transcendental skill: for example, Raj Kapoor in Awaara. We really do love him for his mind!

But then we remembered that there is a whole category of the Sublime that the PPCC loves without necessarily wanting to also jump its bones. And that is usually things like Sufi mysticism and its related appendages: ghazals, qawwalis and poetry for the broken-hearted and mystical.

The second example:
Muqaddar Ka Sikandar, Salaam-e-ishq


There's actually a couple moments in Muqaddar Ka Sikandar which the PPCC has deemed sublime. When Vinod Khanna sings Zindagi to bewafa hai... we usually see sparkly transdentals. Similarly, we have a weak spot for Rekha singing ghazals, and much of Umrao Jaan was also bordering on the sublime (with the final song, Yeh Kya Jagah Hai, Dosto?, being a wonder). In fact, we have a weak spot for Sufi aesthetics generally, and poets like Rumi and Mirza Ghalib, singers like Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Faiz Ali Faiz, have all moved us to the Sublime experience more than once. Perhaps this is because of Sufism's characteristic mysticism - it is an aesthetic that aspires to the Sublime in a way that others may not.

Now, while we at the PPCC love Amitabh and Rekha, we don't necessarily want to jump them the same way we would jump SRK or Shashi, hence here is an example of a Sublime moment completely removed from personal attraction (i.e. the crush factor).

Why sublime?: What's interesting is that we have never seen this song with subtitles, so we actually had nothing but a bare jist as to what it was about. But the music so moved us that we could cry on command when this song arrived at its most sublime moment: Mera dil dhadka! (TABLA) Mera dil tarpa kissiki nazar ke liye... The jolting, stuttering tabla, the minor key slowly falling in the background... Wah! Kya bat hai! And then the way it is filmed: with the slow close-ups of Rekha, the tracking shots of her as she dances across the room, and those wonderfully evocative shots of Amitabh watching, 100% involved (indeed, to the point that it moves him to sing along!). This is one of our favorite filmmaking techniques, something that Spielberg also uses a lot: the awed reaction shot. It has always augmented the emotional resonance of a scene when we see one of the characters marvelling at it - at its tragedy or, indeed, its sublimity. In Amitabh's case, it seems he is as compelled as we are by Rekha's song, by something that - a bit like SRK's limping loneliness in the KANK sublime moment - seems larger and more epic than its description. (Compare this to the red girl sequence from Schindler's List, when Liam Neeson is awed instead by terror and watches with the same open-mouthed concentration.)

Moments of Transcendental Aesthetic

What is the sublime? The transcendental, or sublime, in art is usually defined as aesthetic pleasure so acute that it transports the viewer outside herself, sending her onto a higher plane of awareness and reality. It is an unbounded, incalculable aesthetic pleasure, so immense and so filling that, as Elaine Scarry would put it, we are momentarily jostled out of our subjectivity, and suddenly the object of beauty takes center stage in our reality. We can only graciously acquiesce our narcissism, bowing out in awe of something so magnificent, so all-consuming.

The PPCC has experienced this feeling of the Sublime in several films. The Empire Strikes Back was practically one, prolonged sublime-gasm, and, thanks to multiple viewings and subsequent neural rewiring, we often fall back on sci-fi images of foreign planets when we are moved by transcendental aesthetic. Recently, in our exploration of Hindi cinema, we have come across a number of Sublime moments, thanks mostly to Hindi cinema's capable use of music and imagery. More often than not, in films like Awaara (1951) or Chor Sipahee (1977) we have been blown away by a snatch of music, or a shadow falling on a face. It has been all-powerful.

This newest of PPCC projects will share some of the PPCC's most Sublime moments, as available from YouTube.

Subjectivity. A note about an obvious difficulty: we do not and cannot pretend that what we see as Sublime another viewer might not just see as filth. However, we think that rather than "I think you think" back and forth, it's more productive to explain what exactly is so special about a moment. Hence, while experiencing the Sublime in a particular object of art is a purely subjective experience, the feelings described might be universal, and we will try to maintain objectivity in explaining what moves us and why. Our first example should be a case in point, considering how poorly received this film was by viewers and critics alike.

Viewer involvement. A standard question in philosophy of aesthetics is how we can disentangle aesthetic pleasure from other factors. Some philosophers (e.g. Clive Bell) thought that aesthetic pleasure and things like Taste had to be a cool, disenchanted appraisal of beauty. Eroticism, emotional entanglements, nostalgia-seeking... all these warm-blooded reactions had to be dismissed in favor of something more detached. The PPCC does not subscribe to this view. While we believe aesthetic pleasure is a distinct pleasure from other things (like eating, or thinking how hot Shashi is), it often comes riding in on the coattails of some other emotion. At least, the PPCC has yet to find an instance of Sublime which does not feature someone we find hot. Once again, our next example, case in point.

The first example of the Sublime:
Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, Title Song



If you are a KANK snob who dislikes KANK only because it is so KANKicious, this may be difficult to accept. But the PPCC has watched and re-watched KANK several times in the past few weeks as Friends of the PPCC have gradually been converted to all things Hindi. And with each viewing, the PPCC has become further and further KANKified, so that we are now no longer apologetically in love with KANK, but shamelessly and wildly so. How can a movie be so damn satisfying? Guh! How can a movie be so damn pretty?! Gah! SRK's hair and Rani's eye makeup and the music from that scene on the pier and the shots of leaves and the costume design's color coordination and... guh, so much more. While objectively, the PPCC may recognize that KANK fails on many conventional levels of filmmaking - storytelling efficiency, SRK's acting is also nothing to write home about - we still like it so much that it has earned its way to the first spot of our Sublime series.

Now what is Sublime about the title song? The moment when the PPCC jumped out of its skin was the changing of the seasons: first, Abhishek climbing the steps of Columbia University, marvelling at the change from sunshine to rain; followed by gloomy Rani, hugging herself as she walks through the pouring rain in Philadelphia; which zooms into autumnal colors in upstate New York while Preity plays with her son, turning into snow; becoming (and here's the golden moment) a tracking shot of SRK limping through a graveyard, arms behind his back.

There are two things which make this moment Sublime for us: first, the change in music from 'autumn' to 'winter', when suddenly we emerge from our waffling background score to something powerful and tragic, minor-keyed and full of beautiful tabla; second, SRK's limp. The PPCC, like many warm-blooded women, has a fetish for the wounded Byronic hero - and its his tragedy which makes him even more attractive. The music reinforces this air of epic scars, so that the character Dev's loneliness becomes something large and monumental and beautiful. Of course, many viewers found Dev and Maya's romance a petty affair between two unlikable people. The PPCC concedes this point; they might be unlikable, yes. However, for us, this moment captures the poignancy and brilliance of their forced separation - and, in true Sublime style, of any forced separation, of any feeling of loneliness. If we may make a generalization about aesthetics: it is in these moments that art kicks butt, when it can turn something conventionally tragic into something beautiful at the same time. This is (one of!) the moment(s!) in the film which works perfectly and transcends what it is, taking us with it.

Our original review of Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006).