Chez Moi

I reached that monumental mark yesterday - chalked up three decades of living. So I can no longer call myself a “girl”, no matter how inappropriate it was till now. But, as certain laydees, who are certainly rocking in their 30’s and 50’s attest, life begins NOW. So am hopeful of things to come. 

But not as far as my son is concerned. Left to him, I might as well go on the national OAP register. 

Anyhoo, the budday yesterday ROCKED. Totally! Hubby started things off with a bang on Friday, the “star” budday by giving me this amazing pearl set - gorgeous chain coupled with drop earrings. Celebration started properly by mid-Saturday, with a trip to the cinema to see Jaane Tu ya Jaane Na. We both had been real keen to see this flick, ever since the music charmed us. Plus, with the early birds who had been humming away since catching it on the first week egging us on, we simply could not put it off anymore. 

Happily, the movie did not disappoint. I actually want to see it again. The only part I did not like was the character of that Sushant character. Why did they have to make him so easy for everyone to dislike and get rid of? Wouldn’t it have been better had he been a regular, decent soul and despite that, Aditi loved Jai best cos that’s the way it should be? (Any of the Bollywood director types looking for a consultant - well, your search stops here!)

Sunday dawned bright and sunny - a marvellous day in London, which is a glorious thing in itself. For once, we left home quiet early so we could have a sensible day out. Started off with a spin on the London Eye. As P had only seen it from far, he was pretty excited. He enjoyed the Eye thoroughly. We had fantastic views of the city, spreading as far as the eye could see. A loud American was pointing out various landmarks (quite wrongly!) to his awestruck family. I wished he’d either shut up or pipe down. Of course he did neither! 

After that, we let P loose on the park where he proceeded to try all sorts of balancing tricks on the rope bridge and climbed up the rope column - thrice - before deciding enough’s enough. 

Next stop - BFI IMAX. 

As IMAX were showing P’s current favourite flick, Kung Fu Panda, there was no escaping this. After the miniscule multiplex screens of today, the 20 m X 26 m IMAX screen seemed MEGA! We were all astounded at the size of it and the sound quality was literally mind blowing. So much so I thought one member of the family would have big problems with it. The Bun proceeded to rock and roll through out the movie, making for some exceedingly uncomfortable moments. 

Once that part of the day was finished, we went in search of Ping Pong, a Chinese dim sum restaurant. The review said grub was good while the same cannot be said for the service. They were spot on. The location was brilliant. We got outside seats as it stank too much of fish inside and I couldn’t bear it. But flagging down the wait staff was an art we sucked at and most of the time was spent in waving furiously. I was reminded of Bill Bryson’s pithy remark: “… you cannot make a waiter see you unless he is good and ready..” 

Reared as we are on the Saravana Bhavan School of Hospitality, the service didn’t bother us much. Especially when the food they brought in was like pure morsels of heaven! The dim sums are served in individual wooden steamer baskets and each one contains three dumplings. Though our waitress suggested we order about three baskets each, we displayed rare (and in this case, misplaced!) caution and ordered one each. 

Presently, the farcical part of the routine started. There we were, with some amazing smelling, glistening morsels of food waiting for us and we were armed with two fiddly sticks. It didn’t help matters any when the brat mastered eating with chopsticks like he had been doing it all his life and polished off his dumplings with “YUM YUM” noises. Sighing, we stabbed, poked, prodded and generally mutilated our dumplings into submission. But man, was it worth it or what? 

The next couple of hours were spent in trying to attract the wait staff’s attention, ordering more portions and slowly coming to grips with the chop sticks. By the time we downed tools, we were absolutely sated. Three portions of dumplings, followed by a miniscule portion of yummy mango pudding, watered down by a strawberry and lemon cordial (for me- while hubby had jasmine tea and the brat OJ) constituted my budday meal. I was one happy bunny!! 

Needless to say, that was the best budday ever - if this is a taste of things to come, then bring ‘em on! 

I am a big time fan of Vikram. Having met him once early in his career, soon after his first hit Sethu, I was so charmed by his wit and manners than I have been a staunch fan since. Obviously, then, I have been looking forward to his next release Bheema, after a two-year hiatus.

I got my hands on the songs as soon as they were released and though I felt that Harris Jeyraj has dealt a winner this time around too, I cannot say I am overly pleased with the music directors’ penchant for making non-Tamil singers sing songs in Tamil movies. The song Ragasiya Kanavugal is a case in point. The female singer, instead of singing “azhagiya mirugam” (beautiful beast), sounds like she’s saying “azhugiya mirugam” (rotten beast).

Listen to it yourself and tell me if you agree or not.

In a country like ours, where movie stars enjoy venerated status, they are in a unique position to do something positive, something immensely good to the people, to actually make a change. Some adopt a cause and use their status to do great, charitable things. In some cases, though, their A-list status is enough to publicise a deed, be it good or bad. In that regard, a ’star’ at the top of his (or her) reign, has to be ultra careful in making sure his movie choices cannot be misconstrued as anything less than stellar.

This was something that Tamil actor Ajith forgot when he signed up for the movie ‘Varalaru’ a.k.a ‘Godfather’. At that time, the man’s career was in the doldrums and since then, he has slowly regained his lost lustre in the eyes of his adoring public. But with ‘Varalaru’, he has lost whatever respect I had for him as a person.

In the movie, Ajith plays the part of the father, the son and the evil villain who also turns out to be his other son - surprise! Daddy dear is a trained bharathnatyam dancer, which for some reason, equates him to a eunuch and all he does is elaborate abhinayam in place of regular expressions. Okay, harmless I hear you say. He is - till the day he is two shakes of a duck’s tail away from being married to this luscious babe - and she dumps him. Why? Only ‘cos he comes across more girly than her! This of course enrages the hero!

So he sets of to prove his manhood. How does he do it? Oh by this easy way of raping her. In her room. With a whole household full of servants and mother hollering away, banging on the door.

Though the girl screeches it at the top of her voice, he has great trouble hearing the word ‘NO’ and calmly proceeds to ’show’ her that he is a man, after all!

What really takes the biscuit is his explanation to the girl’s mum after he was done. Apparently, he did what he did because the girl was having doubts about his manliness. How else could a bloke to prove he is a man? By raping the said woman, of course!

The cherry on top of this sick icing happens a few scenes later, when the girl’s mum pleads his case to her now pregnant daughter, with the standard “He is a good man, sweetheart” line. Of course he is, if you discount the fact the raped you to prove his manhood. He is so the man!It is movies like this that make me want to gag. Here we have organisations trying to fight crimes against women and then we have movies like this tosh, that make a whole mahatma out of the sod who commits this heinous crime. Even more gaggable fact is that, the adoring public turned up in droves to see this load of crap, shelling out their hard earned money hand over fist to make it a hit. A hit! This &%$#* of a film!

There’s no accounting for taste, is there? Women getting assaulted - well that is no filmy matter, is it? Why would one trivialize it so? What the hell was the Censor Board doing when it deemed this palpable fare?

Two things about such ventures astound me

1. how could a sane person decide portraying such roles is actually a good thing to do
2. why an intelligent person would throw good, hard earned money at such claptrap?

It also makes me wonder when the so-called ’stars’ would actually realise what amazing pull they have and use it to actually do some good, rather than to purely rake in the dosh. Looking cool and setting little girlies’ heart go pitty-pat is all fine and dandy. But to actually pass on sensible message, one that will do some good, for a change, whilst looking cool - well that’s the ult, isn’t it?Any takers? Ajith? Maddy?

ps: Any one who wants to claim ‘oh Daddy Ajith repented what he did and tried to make amends’ and thereby prove this is a worthy film, please, save your breath.

When I first came across this above-mentioned statement, I thought it was a joke . A quick glance assured me that it wasn’t April Fool’s day or anything like that. And that was when I started laughing. Really laughing.

I mean, I have nothing against the kid. She’s pretty decent as far as actresses of today go and has made some good career decisions so far. She’s a household name in her native Tamil Nadu and neighbouring Andhra Pradesh, which is no mean feat for sure. But does that mean she deserves the two states’ (she earlier won AP’s Nandi award for her role in NVNV) highest acting honours? Hell, no!

The word ‘kalaimamani’ means someone who is a great exponent of art and in this case, acting. Which Trisha sure is not. Sure she can shake her booty with the best of them, looks a peach and all that but that does not make for a fab actress. I am yet to see her essay a brilliant role. Granted that meaty female roles in Indian cinema are few and far between and are def not available for the young ‘uns of today who are roped in more for their eye candy factor than serious acting skills. In that sense, she is no better or worse than anyone else.

In fact, I do applaud her for not letting a director exploit her by making her show more flesh, like some of her contemporaries are doing. She is reputed to have refused to do Simbu’s female lead in Vallavan as it was ‘too glamorous’. Whilst I do think it is admirable that she doesn’t grab every single branch to go higher, I still am at a loss to see how all this totals a great actress.

My idea of a good artiste is perhaps tempered by greats such as Suhasini, Revathy, Shobhana etc. I sat up and cheered with the best when these ladies were awarded their National and regional awards for none deserved the accolade more. Trisha’s problem might just be that she isn’t b eing offered any role that will put her acting skills to test. Maybe that is the way the industry is and I will not blame her for trying to stay in the game.

I would, however, blame every single director who casts a heroine purely for the sake of glamour. Illeana’s role in her recent Telugu movie Aata was purely decorative and the amount of flesh on display was totally unnecessary. That didn’t help the movie’s fortunes at the Box office should send a message to the movie moguls about what the public actually want out of a movie.

But I digress.

Coming back to the so-called acting awards, I feel they are becoming somewhat of a farce, with very few actually deserving the title ‘Kalaimamani’. For example, take a look at this year’s awardees: Silambarasan, Vishal, Jayam Ravi, Jeeva, Vineeth, Venu Aravindh, Kanja Karupu, Trisha, Navya Nair, Deepa Venkat, Aarthy and CID Sakunthala - the list reads like Who’s Who of the Tinseltown. Other than a few like Vineeth, Deepa Venkat and CID Sakunthala, I don’t even think that most of the others can act, leave alone spectacularly so to be named ‘Kalaimamani’.

Probably the powers that be are just making do with whatever talent is available in the pool but when you are scraping the bottom of the barrel to make up the number, it would be prudent to give the title to the deserving few rather than to everyone who to be seen on the screen frequently.

In the meantime, Trisha, congratulations on your twin awards - may you grow into them one of these days!

‘Mr.Chandramouli! Mr.Chandramouli!!’
To me, and possibly many others, this is the first thing that comes to mind, when we think of the movie Mouna Ragam. That name and Karthik’s actions are embedded in my mind and are totally unforgettable. Arguably, one of Mani Ratnam’s best efforts, Mouna Ragam is a classic example of Mani’s work, a simple tale, well told. The lead actors do a fantastic job of it (I never thought I’d say this about po-faced Mohan) and it is, in my opinion, one of the best movies of my generation.

Revathy is a regular, young middle-class who’s quite content to maintain the status quo of her life. But when her parents decide to get her married off to someone they deem as a ‘good boy’, she rebels by staying out all evening on the day the ‘boy’s visiting her house to ’see’ her. After a spot of singing and dancing in the rain, she finally saunters in quite late, full of glee of having outwitted her parents. She gets the shock of her life when she finds the ‘boy’, Mohan, still sitting there, patiently awaiting her arrival.

Furious with herself, she decides to go for broke and confesses to Mohan her aversion to the whole arranged set-up, even passing some disparaging comments about herself to help him along. When he hears the same words he was rehearsing, Mohan changes his mind and his feeling about arranged marriage and agrees to marry her. Off they go to Delhi, a stone-faced Revathy determined to get away from her marriage as soon as possible. She shuns Mohan and his attempts to get to know her. To celebrate their first month together, he buys her some beautiful anklets. But she prefers an annulment and off they go to a lawyer to start the proceedings. The shocked lawyer tells them that they have to give their marriage a shot at least for a year before the courts can call it off.

Thus starts Revathy’s sentence - or so she thinks. When asked why she hates him so, she tells Mohan of the boy she loved. The happy-go-lucky, rowdy Karthik, with a zest for life and a hair trigger temper, which frequently results in local fights and altercations with the police. But slowly and surely, the love of a good woman decides his fate for him and he makes his mind to turn over a new life. Knowing her parents would not allow their union, Revathy and Karthik decide to get married in secret. As she’s waiting in front of the Registrar’s office, Karthik runs up the steps later than he promised - but is shot dead by mistake, by the police.

When it becomes clear to Mohan that it is the ghost of a past boyfriend that is standing in between them, he decides to step back and lets his wife have her head. They lead separate lives within the four walls of their house, counting the days till the year runs out and they can be legally separated. But slowly, Revathy starts to understand her husband and unbeknown to her, falls in love with him, little by little. How they sort their feelings for each other and end up together is a story beautifully woven by the director.

There are some really funny bits in the movie. Revathy’s attempts to teach her Punjabi neighbour Tamil is one of the most hilarious and memorable funny scenes from the annals of Tamil cinema. Showing her impish, naughty side, Revathy teaches her poor neighbour what he assumes to be polite words to impress his Tamil boss. When the boss visits the Sardar and says ‘namaste, he is told poda dai, much to his amazement. He is then not-too-politely to sit down (okkaru da somberi). The eagerness on the Sardar’s face as he utters the words, imagining him to be the epitome of hospitality, made me nearly wet myself in glee, the first time I saw the film.

The music for the movie is by none other than the Maestro himself, Ilaiyaraja. It has been so long since I actually listened to the songs but I still remember the tunes of every single one of them. My favourite of all of them is the slow Manram Vandha, where the haunting quality of the music seems somehow echoed in the movement of the car, as Mohan and Revathy drive on. The melodious Nilave Vaa is another good number, sung beautifully by SPB. All the songs in the movie are hummable and even after more than a decade; I can still remember the words and the tunes of the songs. You cannot ask for more, can you?

This is Karthik’s best performance ever, I think. Under Mani’s skilful guidance, he curbs his tendency to overact and turns out a beautiful rendition of a rowdyish young man, who turns over a new leaf willy-nilly after falling in love. Revathy, as always, plays her role to perfection. She is such a fantastic artiste, with the most expressive eyes and one immediately empathises with her, first with her aversion to the arranged marriage, then her feelings for the boy she loved and lost, her initial anti feelings towards the husband foisted on her, her impish nature as she teaches her neighbour Tamil and finally, the growing love in her, for the man she married. A superb portrayal by a consummate actress. Mohan has never been a favourite of mine - I never felt this was a man who could act but this once, he proved me wrong by playing the role of a patient husband beautifully.

The movie tackles a subject that, funnily enough, still holds our culture and society in sway - that of arranged vs. love marriages. In a deeper level, the movie also deals with the difficulties involved in sustaining any relationship and the gentle strands of love that slowly bind people together; even without them realising it. It is an utterly romantic story and Mani has told it superbly. A must-see movie for any good movie buff.