Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola – Review

15 Tuesday Jan 2013

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Musings

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Bollywood, imrankhan, indiancinema, Reviews

Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola – a review

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From the moment the promos hit the air, it promised to be a strange movie. But you hoped it was a good strange, or interesting strange. It suggested dark comedy, satire, farcical elements with a popular star cast and a winning director.

But when the time came to deliver, it could have been so much more. While one must admire Vishal Bharadwaj for making a film like this, which stemmed from his love for dharti mata, the hinterlands and Shakesperean tradition all combined, he stumbled in areas that he normally shouldn’t have. With Omkara (his Othello), Maqbool (his Macbeth) etc., he had clear direction. He took an Elizabethan setting and converted it to the darkness of a village in rural India. A milieu he understands well, a tradition he can well expand. With Matru…, he took the technique of social satire and farce and moved it to his familiar rural India. Without a strong Shakesperean story to fall back on, he flounders with a premise. Is he merely picking at the problems of rural farmers and their rich zamindars who are out to looto them? He deals with the topic with unwarranted superficiality. If one chooses not to be serious about a serious problem, then one must at the very least attempt to show some depth while plotting around it.

A good student of Shakespeare always has powerful characters and can sketch them well. Bharadwaj hasn’t failed before and doesn’t falter here either. All the characters come alive, are stand out performances and are believable, even if occasionally caricaturized on the premise of satire. Pankaj Kapur as the Jekyll-and-Hyde Mandola is brilliant, if a little too easy to manipulate towards a happy film ending. Bijlee is a free spirit and plays her role faultlessly. Matru is what the actor, Imran Khan, has described as a desi Che Guevara. Matru’s sophistication is obvious, but then we write it off as a Delhi-education that has softened the expected rough edges. Shabana Azmi’s politician and her witless son played by Arya Babbar appear the most caricaturized, but in the space of the film and it’s intentions, the OTT treatment is forgiven, in fact even acceptable.

For someone who should be a stickler for details, Bharadwaj seems to have ignored quite a few things. Why must Bijlee run amok shouting for Matru, when we are later shown Matru wielding a cell phone? How does Matru conveniently manage to pull a favour, get a check of money for his village, and then never have to worry about making the delivery 5 days later of the crop which is ruined? There was a chance to create pressure — those 5 days one would think would have been mentioned for a reason — but it never comes up, as time stands still and the village gets busy with Bijlee’s sudden wedding. Mandola has a remarkable change of heart, we don’t really understand why…and that’s a shame because everything seemed to be building up to him and his idiosyncrasies. It’s all very convenient, but it’s not sharp.

The dialogue on the other hand, is sharp. It’s witty and layered and the delivery is pretty good from all the characters, who show wonderful comic timing all the way. For once, the onus of comedy isn’t on the comic relief but is on all the characters, which is great thing for Indian cinema, especially when it comes to satire. However, the failing was language. With farce and dark humour, one would need one clear, easily decipherable language. Bharadwaj has used three: Hindi, English and Haryanvi, of which one is entirely alien to the multiplex audience and another alien to a single-screen audience. While Kapur is playing his character perfectly, slurring the words like a drunk, he is inadvertently making it harder for the audience to grasp all of what he’s saying, often having the viewer miss key points of humour. The director should have caught that. On the flip side, Khan with his crisp diction is actually easily understood even in his learned Haryanvi, making the experience lighter and easier for the multiplex audience.

All in all, a clever attempt but a near miss. It will go down in the books as something to be dissected, analysed and categorized. It is a film of no small significance, it’s just unfortunate how close it came to being a serious contender for something special. Not to mention, slash 20 min off the run time, it would have read as well and tightly as Delhi Belly, another mad caper film. And Matru… could have retained it’s rather good music.

Verve Man: The mysterious appeal of these men…

16 Tuesday Oct 2012

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Features & Trends, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Bollywood, indiancinema, Karan Johar, Men, Politics, Salman Khan, vervemagazine

Published: Verve Magazine, October 2012, Verve Man supplement

The Mysterious Appeal of These Men: Salman, Chetan, Rahul, Karan and Sachin. (Admit it – you knew their last names as you read it.)
In a perfect world, we want to see people who are famous because they know their craft exceedingly well – the ones who are untouchable because you can’t surpass their talent. It puts them on a pedestal of excellence and it silences detractors. Sometimes there are those who may or may not have talent, but have an x-factor, which makes them incredibly appealing to a large number of people. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh decodes the controversial appeal of five successful men across industries

Salman Khan, actor
In a recent TV interview, Salman Khan said something that sounded ridiculously ostentatious. But if you take it in context of who he is as a person – simple and direct – you would understand that he was just stating the obvious. Ek Tha Tiger’s release and people’s reaction to that movie and others before it, Dabangg and Bodyguard in particular, lend complete strength to the fact that Salman Khan exists in the industry for his fans. (And he has many of them.) As he points out, if you need an actor to play a role, there are many people to choose from. A director and producer will think of Salman Khan, only when they want the full Salman-Khan-ness in a particular film. He’s unapologetic about who he is or what makes him popular among the masses. He’s also matter-of-fact about his popularity, without being self-propagandizing. It doesn’t matter whether the movie has a story, or whether the film is completely OTT, or even that the character does the strangest things – like manage to pop the buttons of his shirt as he struts. His style of dancing – not updated over the years, but true to form with certain pelvic thrusts or iconic hand gestures; his action sequences, where he isn’t a hero, he is a super hero; his romancing – which is stilted and subdued; are all aspects of the Salman Khan phenomena that his viewers expect. It’s suggested that he dresses like James Dean and picks nuances from Dharmendra; two actors he believes should be closely watched. And in his smile, lies his resemblance to Dean, though he doesn’t smile enough – off screen and on it. While his cinema may be regressive in it’s form, it’s appeal – rather his appeal – remains eternal. He has consciously chosen to be a performer and entertainer, and removed himself from being an actor. And yet, maybe it was his cleverest move, the secret formula to being one of the biggest movie stars of the Indian film industry. Behind his rather simplistic appeal, quotes and choices, lies a sharp brain that has managed to find a bankable spot in the industry. He has, very possibly gauged his strengths and weaknesses, and put his money in just the right place.

Chetan Bhagat, writer
Some time ago, on an episode of Love2HateU, the celebrity guest was Chetan Bhagat. The poor girl – the ‘hater’ – stood no chance against Bhagat’s generous Gandhi-ism, so beatifically patronizing and condescending. But that’s Chetan Bhagat – a huge icon and idol to some and an even huger eyebrow raiser to others. Bhagat’s success – and he is astonishingly successful – is because he has crawled through the cracks and found his target audience. And what a target audience that is. The non-readers. Instead of churning out a highbrow book filled with beautiful metaphors and aiming for the Booker-reading intellectuals, Bhagat does what he does best – appeal to those that have admittedly never read a book before. And therein lies his claim to fame. Bhagat has automatically found his safety in numbers. While Bhagat makes no pretentions about his literary aspirations, he basks in his own stupendous success, often lying on a raft of self-appreciation. And what irks people is that his raft never, ever capsizes. Top models can have a bad hair day, brilliant directors can have a box office flop, the Sensex can crash, but Chetan Bhagat only goes from strength to strength. As he smugly states, ‘I’m happy to be on this show (Love2HateU) because my new book has just released and I want to know that there are people who don’t like what I do, not just people who enjoy my books.’

Rahul Gandhi, politician
Is it possible to bank a country’s future, its political aspirations on a set of irrepressible dimples? While our democracy is far more discerning than that (we hope) it is true that as the younger Gandhi scion grew up, a great deal of hope was vested on his future. He had the political pedigree, and most importantly he looked the part. It didn’t really matter what he said – or didn’t say – he was just so easy on the eye. Every woman could imagine him at the helm of India, attending the topmost international discussions and global summit roundtables looking stupendous representing India. And yet, that hasn’t really played out well for him – while remaining a member of Parliament, he hasn’t proven himself as a strong candidate for the topmost office of the country – despite the looks. Whether he manages to get any further, we can only wait and watch, and hope that there is more depth to him than his dimples, or India may end up having her own frat-boy-politician in the making, served up American style.

Karan Johar, director
You watch Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge and you see that plump friend of the hero, put there so that the hero can shine. A school misfit, no one would have guessed that Karan Johar would become a phenomenon. Johar has lived his high school misses through his films – creating the candy-floss make-believe world that he would have liked to be a part of, making his protagonist (more often than not played by his buddy Shah Rukh Khan) the popular kid in school. The kid Johar should have been, going by his current personality. What he may have been unable to achieve in his school years, he’s more than managed in his adult life. He is the force behind one of the biggest production houses in Hindi cinema, Dharma Productions, his movies do record business, he can make or break an actor or director, and often can control the future of a movie star, as evidenced by his power over the future of one top actress who wound up in his bad books. His talk show became an iconic talking point at every Koffee-table conversation. His rapid-fire questions allowed for his sharp wit, humour and personality to shine through, even if he did demonstrate that he lives happily in his own industry bubble. Only on Simi Garewal’s show did any of his vulnerability come to the fore. Johar is a complex animal, but his success is because of these complexities and layers to his personality. With Student of the Year in the offing, we wish we would move beyond the chasm of his youth to the brilliant success of his grown-up years in his directorial offerings. But would that be a cathartic story worth telling?

Sachin Tendulkar, sportsman
The Master Blaster. Anything said against him is akin to blasphemy. How did a supremely talented teenage kid manage to bear the weight of a nation’s hopes on his young shoulders? One who should just concentrate on the game is made to feel like the savior of the country. Every poor man’s hopes, every rich man’s dreams are with Sachin Tendulkar as he takes strike after strike. As if that were not enough, he had to attempt captaining the Indian cricket team. It’s a wonder he didn’t retire early, just to find inner peace. He has dealt with it all with equanimity – reminiscent of great players like Roger Federer in tennis – where nothing sways him. Victory brings a smile
, and when he’s down, he’s generally outwardly calm. Children are named after him in quick succession, he is revered to the point of blind faith, and he can do no wrong. Even if he gets out in duck thrice in a row, it’s okay because he has given us many centuries before. People cannot be logical around Tendulkar, he is more than human, he is God. With anyone else it would be dangerous, this blind idolization. As Wright Thompson in an insightful study on his charisma pointed out – Tendulkar’s meteoric rise took place in parallel to India as a country and economy opening up. He symbolizes everything we dream and wish for, all that is balanced and good. He steadies our racing hearts; he lives our greatest hopes. And he does it all with a clean chit. He makes people feel good – about themselves and their country, and he gives people a sense that we can be better, that we can be the best. And he forms the bridge – between the insecurity of the past and the brash confidence of the future.

Girl On A Wire: Cover Story with Parineeti Chopra

21 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Interviews (All), Interviews: Cinema, Interviews: Cover Stories, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Bollywood, indiancinema, Interview, Parineeti Chopra, vervemagazine

Published: Verve Magazine, September 2012, Cover Story
Photographs by Vishesh Verma

She is touted as the industry ’s great new talent on the block, on the watch list of every major director and actor. Six months after her first film released, she is already working on her third. It is a rapid start for any newcomer, particularly one who became an actor because she got a return ticket to Mumbai instead of Delhi! PARINEETI CHOPRA is refreshingly easy to talk to and incredibly laidback in general, finds SITANSHI TALATI-PARIKH, as she chats with the banker who became a movie star

Alive wire buzzes with an electric current that creates energy all on its own, without sapping any other source. In cinema, the screen is ripped to shreds with the power of its intensity. She has a lovely structured face, instantly appealing with its generous smile, fiery light-brown eyes, and translucent skin. She has a particularly defiant tilt to her jawline – as she speaks, she unconsciously lifts her face upwards, as if willing the world to see where she is headed. And yet, she believes it’s all just destiny. After all, that is what her name means.

“I dreamed of being a very different person – the CEO of one of the biggest banks in the world.” And clutching onto that lifetime’s vision, Parineeti Chopra found herself floundering while looking for a finance job. “Twenty-one years of my life I dreamt of being a banker. I worked all my life for it; I went to London. The year I graduated, was a recession – a financial breakdown in the world. I’d taken an educational loan, followed my dreams and gone there to study… everything finished for me.”

That’s when she picked up the bits and decided to return to India. Used to working and buying her own ticket home, she found that it was cheaper to fly into Mumbai – a city she had never previously visited – than to fly to Delhi; staying with her cousin, actress Priyanka Chopra, before returning home. The day after Parineeti arrived into the city, Priyanka had a shoot at the YRF studios. She accompanied her to see the studio, out of curiosity. “When I came here, I saw things like ‘Producer’ and ‘Director’ written on the walls – and found it so strange. It fascinated me, as a fan. I haven’t grown up on films – I used to read finance books, I was very nerdy. When I saw this place (we are currently at the very same studios), I thought about applying for a job here – in finance or accounts, maybe.”

And so, using one of her other majors, Parineeti ended up doing marketing. “I started seeing the actors here, and initially I used to look down upon them – they put on make-up, go on set, earn so much money, they are in the biggest cars, best hotels in the world, everything is paid for….” Ironically, now, for her, that is a checklist with all the boxes ticked. “But with a very different frame of mind,” she insists. “Now, even if I hear that some actor is paid 25 crores, or some unrealistic figure like that, I don’t find it strange anymore – because working with them made me realise why actors are paid so much, why they are famous and so sought after, why their lives affect so many lives. I felt then that this is a creative field, requiring a lot of intelligence. Not only banking. I used to think that because I read out of a book and because I am making money for my clients, I’m very intelligent. That’s when I decided to be an actor.”

A staffer nervously hands her a cup of her special hazelnut coffee, profusely apologising for being late, checking if it is okay. She notices my amused expression. “I think it’s sweet. I’ve done this for people. I know I’ve not done anything to deserve it, but I know it is a natural thing. This importance is what I didn’t understand earlier about actors…but I guess, now I get it.” Parineeti says it without a sense of wonderment. “You work in an office,” she gesticulates, using me as an example. “Imagine if you were suddenly made the owner of the magazine! Yash Raj treats its actors like stars: you are given that much pampering and importance, freedom and decision-making power, however new you may be. I used to coordinate interviews and order food for actors (everyone from Ranbir Kapoor, Shahid Kapoor, Ranveer Singh to Anushka Sharma, Deepika Padukone, Rani Mukerji and even her cousin, Priyanka). I used to take care of them, be their security person when they were out in the crowd. Suddenly you are elevated to a pedestal that you only used to be a caretaker of.”

The daughter of an NRI mom and Haryana’s Ambala-bornand-raised dad, left home at the age of 15 to study, and is fiercely independent and self-sufficient. “I had a very balanced childhood. Six months of the year I used to be in Ambala as a small-town girl with a very conservative, disciplined upbringing and six months I would live the life of utmost luxury with my billionaire grandparents abroad. I am a good-mannered, good girl, yet very open-minded in life. I get to see my parents thrice a year. They let me take my own decisions – all I have to do is inform them.” And yet, the 23-year-old admits she is not a great judge of people. “I’m not naive, but with people I do go wrong. Someone needs to come and tell me, ‘Why are you saying this to so-and-so, or why are you being so-and-so with so-and-so…’ and until someone tells me, it won’t occur to me. And I’m not a big star that people need to suck up to me!”

She stops, takes a sip from a glass full of green liquid – spinach juice, she reveals with a wry grin, a formula she is using to improve her near-perfect skin so that she can face the camera without make-up for her next film. It’s a big step for a girl who has a chronic weakness for pizza – averaging four a week – to watch what she eats. “I don’t want to lose a lot of weight. But I like to be fit and I like to get into a regime before my next film so that I don’t get tired on set. Sometimes the director asks for 15 takes – and if I don’t have the energy to give that I may regret it for the rest of my life.”

As she murmurs approval over my bright coral bag, I’m certain there must be a girl in there who reads the fashion blogs and watches her choices being torn to shreds with the appearances she has made – including the big one at a film magazine’s awards ceremony where she stepped up to receive the best actress debut award for Ladies Vs. Ricky Bahl. “I’m wearing jeans today. It’s a big thing – people think I’m dressed up when I wear jeans. I have a whole pile of track pants and ganjees. That’s all I wear in my personal life. My hair is always in a mess.” She takes a breath, giving a clue to the fact that this may have hit home. “I don’t care about clothes. But I know that when I step out I need to look a certain way. Unfortunately, I don’t have the acumen to dress well. I’m just not that person. So now I do have a stylist to help me. I would never want people to say, ‘She is horribly dressed; she only knows how to act!’ I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, because I’m so illiterate about what looks good on me or what’s in fashion. I have a very tricky body – I am not a very thin girl, so it is hard to dress me. But I am going to make an effort and try and look better. Just give me that time. I don’t have the vision of me as the actor, which needs to be sold in the industry. I wish I had grown up wanting to be an actor – I would have been so much more prepared.”

Prepared or not, she’s clearly gritty and hard-working to the extent of being tenacious about her roles, her characters, her life. Her screen presence has been remarkable and yet, apparently effortless. She enjoyed Ricky Bahl… and that created ripples on screen; she “gave my heart and soul” in Ishaqzaade and received critical acclaim. “There is a rule in the industry where actresses don’t get all the good roles. I would never say it is male-oriented, but there are better roles for men, which makes men huger stars than women. There are very few huge female stars, because they have been blessed with three or four really great evergreen roles. In my films, I think both characters are memorable – in absolutely different ways. I hope I get more such characters. I want to be a successful actor, which comes with successful characters, good characters.” An admirer of Vidya Balan and Rani Mukerji’s author-backed roles, she automatically shies away from ‘package films’ that rely upon a single selling point like money or a famous actor or a director on a winning spree. She needs something to keep her interested, to keep her wanting more. “I have a very short attention span. If you put me in similar kinds of characters I couldn’t do it. Something that is not meaty enough for me as an actor bores me. I can’t work on those films – except when I’m tired and need a break between two intense films…I should use the energy I have right now until I start tiring.”

Parineeti07 Parineeti04

She’s been speaking rapidly, without hesitation, with a certain amount of lightheartedness that highlights her relaxed but upbeat demeanour, even as her work life steamrolls on. “I don’t mean to sound philosophical, but I’m just really happy in life. There are people – with due respect to them – who wait years and years for this to happen to them. I’m probably one of the more thankless ones, because I just got it – instead of running after it. I’m just plain happy.” She sounds dangerously blasé. “No – I’m saying this right now, but in three hours I may be crying saying I don’t know why I am an actor. I am a very extremist person. At this point I am content. I know this has happened to me. Life isn’t the same. But I haven’t dreamt about wanting to be an actor, so what has happened isn’t do-or-die for me. It’s not the hugest thing in the world. If I am successful, great. If not, I have my degree to fall back upon. The good thing is I don’t come from a film family. Today, my parents still say – do whatever you are doing until it makes you happy. When it doesn’t, do something else. Who knows – I may get bored of it, get married someday!”

There is something defiantly free spirited about her, that leaves one with the impression that she is in control, she needs to be in control, but occasionally spirals into the unknown ready to experiment at a moment’s choice. And she can surprise you with the things she says. “I’d like to believe I am very different, because nothing in this world means the world to me. Nothing. No one. Nothing. It could be my parents. People say you can’t live without your parents, but I know one day everybody is going to die and we are going to separate. I’m very realistic.” There is a moment of shock. Is there a little romantic girl? “I’m not a romantic person at all – I am very practical and realistic. Very. I will fall in love. And I know that the people that I love, I r-e-a-l-l-y love.” But these are people you can do without? “No! Not at all! They are very important to me. All I’m saying is that I don’t want anything to be the centre of my world because I’ll end up hurting myself. It’s just the kind of person I am. Whether it is money, or success in my career, or it’s my family or friends – I love everything and I want everything all the time till the day I die. But if something doesn’t work out, it’s okay. I don’t want it to shatter me. Whatever has happened to me is enough for it to go to anybody’s head. Because it’s happening so fast and happening so well. My name means ‘destiny’ and I really believe in destiny. I know that tomorrow if it is not meant to be, it will all be over, so I shouldn’t let it be the most important thing in the world to me.”

Parineeti’s wedding diary

The actor, who has so far had unrequited love on screen, is ready for a happy ending in real life.

THE GROOM “It’s a cliché, but I want my man to be like my father – I fi nd every other boy too pansy for me, because they are not brooding Punjabi Jatts.”

THE WOOING “My idea of romance is when a guy gives me no importance. I love it. I hate it when I get gifts, or when someone says, ‘Come, let’s go for dinner.’ But, ‘Just come over, we’ll watch a fi lm and order food’ – that’s fun. Just being a regular Punjabi man.”

THE RELATIONSHIP “I’m 23, I hope now I get into a good relationship. I’ve never been in a serious enough relationship to experience any kind of heartbreak. And that’s why I love Band Baaja Baraat – it says ‘Pyaar aur vyapaar ek saath ho sakte hain’.”

THE PROBLEMS “The privacy thing. Rumours in the p
apers link me up with various people – all friends; and now I can’t be seen with them! Even if I tell my mother there is nothing going on, there will be some seed planted in her mind. When I do have a boyfriend, I could never hide it. The problem now is if I am seen going on a late-night drive, or to the movies, people won’t think ‘how much fun they are having’, it will always be, ‘what is happening?’ It will always be negative, sleazier and shadier. But…it doesn’t deter me.”

THE LOCATION “A beach wedding! Water really turns me on…it could be a fake lake under a building, or even a rivulet, but I love water. Not sexually. It’s so strange; any sound of water – even a running tap – can calm me.”

THE CEREMONY “The wedding can be casual, where all my friends are bunked up in one hotel for three days. I’m not really into the ‘traditional, let’s do it the Hindu way’ or whatever. I’m not very religious. I just want a big party, with lots of food and…swimming!”

THE CLOTHES “The kind of looks we’re doing for the Verve shoot is exactly something that I would like to wear for my wedding. Something Indian, something beautiful, but not the usual traditional stuff. I think I look okay in Indian clothes.”

THE COLOUR “Onion pink. I like onion pink, a lot.”

Verve’s Bollywood Style Awards 2012

12 Sunday Feb 2012

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Fashion & Style, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Bollywood, Bollywood Style Awards, Fashion, indiancinema, Style, vervemagazine

Published: Verve Magazine, Features

Indian cinema has proven with its recent offerings that it can confidently step up to the plate and serve style that matches the character and mood of the movie rather than cook up a half-baked stew of fashion and metre. As Verve pointed out last year, couture has found a definite place in Indian cinema, whether through a subtle pair of designer shades or through a statement handbag. The good news is high fashion isn’t being used as candy floss on the big screen – it’s playing a specific role. Costumiers are equally willing to turn to village threads for authenticity, or design garish, bordering-on-the-vulgar outfits for a real-life character, as they are to doll up their actors in an international label. While there may not be any path-breaking moves here, costume design 2011 has been authentic, stylish and character-oriented. It sets the stage to push the envelope further, away from the sensationalist and dysfunctional ensembles of the past. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh picks out four movies that impressed with their true-to-the-grain styling, and Verve recreates these looks with young actors Sarah Jane Dias and Sahil Shroff.

AUTHENTIC RECREATION: MAUSAM
Lovleen Bains for Sonam Kapoor and Shahid Kapoor

For the clothes to take a backseat for a change and let real-life fashionista Sonam Kapoor’s character shine is no easy feat. Playing a simple Kashmiri refugee in Punjab, she faces Shahid Kapoor, a small town boy, in Mausam. You find the costumes hold their weight in their sheer subtlety – from the gaucheness of Shahid’s college blazer to the sophisticated tailoring of his air force pilot outfit; his character transitions in the very seams. Sonam’s transformation from youthful girl to a mature woman is rooted in her ethnicity: even as she dons international garb when living abroad, the Anamika Khanna-crafted red gown worn in Scotland has Indian embroidery on it, and the Kashmiri embroidered shawls are reminiscent of her Indianness.

Shades change with seasons and locations: the young lovers’ innocence is portrayed with the use of whites and creams in a wintry Punjab, picking up earthy hues along the way, through geographical displacement and character maturity. For instance, Sonam’s pale Kashmiri kurtas and dupattas soon reflect the happier shades of Punjab. When the characters meet again, in the church in Scotland, they are both, once more, in white. “Colour is almost a leitmotif in the film,” says Bains. Intentionally imperfect hand-stitching on Shahid’s college blazer, ageing of clothes to show wear, a fixed wardrobe with repetitions (Shahid had one pair of jeans through the first season except for the song sequences), researching the right length for Sonam’s kurtas, having Shahid’s sweaters woven by Punjabi village folk over gossip sessions and sarson ka saag, there is a thread of authenticity and rootedness in Lovleen Bains’ costume design of Mausam that is devoid of the trappings of Bollywood sensationalism.

URBAN SASS: ZINDAGI NA MILEGI DOBARA
Arjun Bhasin for Hrithik Roshan, Farhan Akhtar, Katrina Kaif, Abhay Deol and Kalki Koechlin

If last year’s Aisha had Dior handbags floating on every arm, 2011’s ZNMD makes ‘Bagwati’ a character – with her own position in the plotline. And the ostrich Hermes Kelly is styled with shades and a scarf occasionally, when the weather requires it. This is probably the first time fashion is used as a plot device in Indian cinema – an obvious barb at Kalki Koechlin’s prissy couture- conscious Natasha. Her blunt cut with sharp bangs, kitten heels, Chanel jacket and designer-everything says more than the pinched expression on her face ever could. The look is reminiscent of Molly-Ringwald-in-Pretty-in-Pink – except that unlike Ringwald’s second-hand, hand-stitched attire, Koechlin/Natasha’s clothes are an expensive combination of fresh-off-the-ramp and couture classics. In sharp contrast – as each character forms a fashion foil to the other – Katrina Kaif’s easy-going Laila philosophises in flowing dresses and tresses, easy-breezy beach wear and minimal makeup. Even a basic transformation into biker-chick requires her to wear a lightly ruffled-edged corset over jeans, always feminine and sexy.

With the boys, each actor’s personal tastes and style are visible. Abhay Deol has a naturally leggy, geeky look. The design takes it a step further for his character, Kabir, with over-the-top nerd spectacles, quirky shirts – think birds-taking-flight – teamed up with sneakers and a backpack that he hoists defensively when grilled about his life’s choices. Hrithik Roshan’s beefy look is toned down with buttoned shirts as the audience can’t be allowed to question how Arjun, a work-obsessed investment banker finds time to go to the gym while ignoring his girlfriend. (Of course, the toned shirtless body on the hoardings makes for a happy box office draw.) As the story unfolds, he loosens up, and so do his hair and styling. Farhan Akhtar is pushed further into a character scripted for him: quirky, philosophical poet, entirely boho chic. Aviator shades, loose pants, kurtas and long-sleeved t-shirts teemed with a random neck scarf and hat that he sports, on occasion, even outside the film.

Every look comes together cohesively, billed directly to director, Zoya Akhtar’s vivid visualization and stylist Arjun Bhasin’s recreation: detailed character-oriented styling and couture that slides into everyday life. We just wish it could’ve been a little more experimental – there is no room for a subtle overflow like a preppy artist, for instance. While ZNMD’s picture-perfect styling serves to
perpetuate stereotypes rather than demolish them, it does so rather appealingly.

YOUTH CULT: ROCKSTAR
Aki Narula for Ranbir Kapoor

Polish artist Grzegorz Domaradzki set the stage with his poster sketch of Rockstar. You couldn’t help but know that the look and performance would be iconic and the movie didn’t disappoint – at least on those counts. Tight-assed Janardhan (Ranbir Kapoor) in his too-fitted jeans, too-snug sweater, too-crisp shirts and too-short hair is an obvious exaggeration to the transformation that becomes rock star Jordan. Free of inhibitions and full of angst, Jordan dresses exactly the way he feels – unfettered, irreverent, defiant and often unwashed. As he moves to his own tune, treating societal norms, business conventions and geographical boundaries in the same dismissive manner that he does anything that comes in the way of his single-minded vision, he becomes an unwilling anti-authoritarian cult figure. And to that effect, he redefines the Nehru cap as a fashion ploy. Even as detractors and politicos may shift uneasily, Kapoor makes it work.

What stand out are his wardrobe staples (often repeated in the film for realistic styling): the snazzy anti-establishment military jacket, the Qawwal jackets – a call to his Sufi leanings, the mocking feather-topped Sadda Haq police shirt, all teamed with the clever individualistic version of loose patiala pants and kurtas – ultimate comfort wear. Love the fact that there is no leather or biker rock look – so often over done and stereotypical. What impresses is the refreshing take on a rock star. Packaged with Kapoor’s long, unkempt hair, accessorised with a chain around the neck that houses his first broken guitar string and guitar pick along with other souvenirs, Aki Narula, director Imtiaz Ali and Ranbir Kapoor have visualised possibly the iconic look of the year, to be imitated and popularised by young college kids until the next grunge look rocks its way in.

RETRO RENDERING: THE DIRTY PICTURE
Niharika Khan for Vidya Balan

Even before the film released, Vidya Balan’s bosom encased in Niharika Khan’s suggestive designs made for feverish conversations and post the film’s release, one hears of ‘Ooh la la’ saris becoming popular commercially. If Vidya Balan has the mettle to take on an author-backed sensational role of this kind and further it with panache, then Khan has done more than her job to ensure that Balan’s character stays suitably unclothed throughout. For the racy protagonist, the costumes of the ’80s south are garish, loud and boldly uncouth – as the script intends it. The camera makes love to Vidya Balan’s unfettered body, and the clothes caress her intentionally untoned figure: you watch Balan attempting to button up her jeans over her flabby stomach with an enviably unconcerned attitude towards her generous midriff.

From the tight short dresses, the pelvis-hugging flared pants, to the cleavage-baring cholis and retro shirts, everything shrieks for attention. Where Bobby’s Dimple Kapadia and Once Upon a Time in Mumbai’s Prachi Desai conveyed youthful, shy sensuousness with their midriff baring, polka-dot front-tie shirts, Balan is unabashedly lusty and in-your-face with her wantonness in similar outfits. And yet, caught in a moment of vulnerability, Balan’s character, Silk, makes the walk of shame the morning after being dumped for the wife, attempting to shrink into the folds of her red sequined gown; but in the harsh morning light, it’s too tight for comfort or respect.

Ironically, for Silk, it’s all synthetic and the glitz of sequined make-believe. From the dull, aged South Indian cottons of Reshma’s village wear, and the lamé and brightness of Silk the superstar, to the unflattering wardrobe of an alcoholic, the clothes define every turn in the script. As Khan points out, “The film is about the character’s relationship with her clothing and body – and Balan is brave, far braver than even I could be, to take on this role.” These are the clothes of a woman whose attitude speaks more than her wardrobe, and her wardrobe merely perpetuates her freewheeling attitude. Whether Silk tries to hide or take the world in her stride, her clothes reveal her spirit and character – loud, brash, irreverent, attention-seeking, ambitious and vulnerable – and always exposed.

Vidya Balan: The Next Aamir Khan?

02 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Musings

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Aamir Khan, Bollywood, indiancinema, vidyabalan

Why Vidya Balan is all set to be the female version of Aamir Khan in Bollywood….

Many actresses have looks and talents and a few have both. But what sets a handful apart is when audiences wait for their next as unique and different, as unsual choices, and worth watching. Post her initial success, Balan, like Khan floundered in a couple of commercial films that did her talent no merit. But quickly, she found her ground and stood it. She is treading the fine line between off-beat and commercially successful that possibly only Rekha could before here, where her films now make for coffee-table discussions.

What works for Balan is her sheer versatility. She can morph herself into the character, much like Khan, so that there isn’t a trace of her real-life persona visible, besides her voice and features. No mannerisms, no particular nuances that one attributes to a person. She doesn’t bring herself on screen, she only brings a character, and that too a finely-drawn, deeply nuanced character.

That is possibly the difference between a fine actor and a movie star. A movie star can’t let go of their own persona, even momentarily on screen – think Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan and Kareena Kapoor – while a fine actor becomes whom he/she requires to be on screen. Many actors can don this persona for a specific kind of role – Ajay Devgn for gansta films, Abhishek Bachchan for Guru, Saif Ali Khan for Omkara, or Anil Kapoor for humorous, slimy characters like the one in Slumdog and MI4. And some like Saif Ali Khan and Anil Kapoor can even show a breadth of talent across the board. The others not listed here, like Ranbir Kapoor, are all extremely watchable, entertaining and even powerful in their screen presence, but they can’t let you forget who it is on screen that’s playing that role. Their personal presence often or momentarily overpowers their character.

To become another person on screen, and remain so through the entire film, over and over again through a wide range of films is possibly the mastery of only two actors at the moment in Hindi cinema – Aamir Khan and Vidya Balan. Their choices will always be followed, their movies will always have a definite audience, and their fans will remain discerning. That is not to say that there isn’t a place for other actors and movie stars, but it is to point out that Khan and Balan will remain a class apart in their profession of choice – acting. They will remain actors before they become superstars or moviestars.

Movie references:

Vidya: Ishqiya, No One Killed Jessica, The Dirty Picture, Paa, Parineeta, Guru, Salaam-e-ishq

Aamir: All his films since he began doing a single film a year! (mid 90s), particularly the ones in the last decade.

Dangerous Liaisons: Men we hate to love (Indian cinema)

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Art, Literature & Culture, Features & Trends, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Bollywood, indiancinema, Men

Published: Verve Man, October 2011

Some say women are suckers for punishment, others believe that the young rebellious teen attracts the irresponsible Willoughby, while a grown woman is always in want of a decent man. History is witness to many a woman falling flat in the face while chasing a rogue beau. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh examines the shining Indian silver screen examples of lovable dangerous men

Straight-laced men don’t make for racy fantasies, skipping heartbeats and sexual tension. They lack the edge, the drive, the sizzle, the power to tug at our heartstrings and wreak sweet havoc with our lives. Women are attracted to danger like a moth to a flame – there has to be reason that phrase has become a cliché. There’s something inordinately sexy about a man who knows what he wants and will stop at nothing to get it. Getting a playboy’s attention is not necessarily about a notch on the belt as much as it is about being alluring enough to grab his attention. And deep down inside, every woman attracted to a naughty bloke feels that somewhere, there is a chance that she can fix him. That she can be the person he will surrender to, will change for, and will eventually become some version of the Utopian male they have in their head. And so they all fall.

They Work With Passion

This obsession with the men who are not quite toeing the line possibly began with Amitabh Bachchan’s Angry Young Man. Not a bad lot, but a man who is roaring with discontent – he’s full of testosterone, a desire to avenge all that’s wrong. He’s not passive. He’s not even passive-aggressive. He’s raging male. With a whole bunch of adolescent hormones. You know he has passion – for what he believes in – and you can easily imagine how that would translate – in bed and out of it. Shahenshah’s (1988) avenger became Shah Rukh Khan in Baazigar (1993). He played his hands, the cards turned in his favour and he got his own back, albeit with a massive amount of gore. The cinema of the 70s through the 80s threw up seething, vengeful heroes, those who were not apologetic about treading on a few lives. Recently, Aamir Khan’s Ghajini (2008) – with Khan’s character looming large over the messy revenge scene – in his own words, brought back the action genre with a Dabangg (2010).

They Steal Our Hearts

With the exception of chiseled-chin Vinod Khanna who debuted in cinema as the bad guy, it is only post 2000 that we have become somewhat sophisticated about our wayward heroes. Hrithik Roshan in Dhoom 2 (2006) oozed charm and stunning sex appeal – he didn’t even have an excuse about being bad, he just was.

Luckily though he wasn’t out to kill anyone, just cop a few shiny ones. Maybe it is the Dhoom franchise that has successfully converted our picture-perfect heroes into those with grey shades. Who cares if the guy you date is a bit of a thief? If he looks half as good as John Abraham from Dhoom (2004) or Roshan, or can provide half as much intellectual stimulation as Aamir Khan (the upcoming villain in Dhoom 3)…that would be a love life worth writing home about. Moot to point out that no one really notices the unshaven, paunchy good guy, the cop: Abhishek Bachchan. Has anyone ever wanted the good guy to lose as badly as in the Dhoom movies?

They Kill Us Softly With One Look

Going back a few years, can one deny that Saif Ali Khan actually became sizzling hot on screen in 2004 – in his comeback era – in the completely negative role Ek Hasina Thi? Which girl wouldn’t succumb to his charms? He made being a rogue look cool. And soon after in Being Cyrus (2005). All this, while maintaining his status quo as a premier romantic hero; and ironically, if not surprisingly, consolidating his screen appeal with repeated negative roles – including that of the recent clandestine terrorist in Kurbaan (2009).

They Play Good Cop, Bad Cop With Our Emotions

Anil Kapoor in Ram Lakhan. Was he good or was he bad? It’s hard to tell, even after watching the classic repeatedly. In Shahenshah, Amitabh Bachchan played an ineffectual corrupt cop, while fighting for justice, out of the system. Women go weak-kneed over a man in uniform, especially if it’s an errant cop out to play Robin Hood. The success of Dabangg – and Salman Khan shaking his uniformed body to national hysteria – heralds the revival of cop dramas and high-risk love lives.

They Cleverly Win Us Over

Ishwar ‘Langda’ Tyagi in Omkara (2006) completely took the movie to different heights, and the disgust one felt for the character was smudged with grudging admiration. You give a man brains and his mental prowess is bound to not go unnoticed.

They Wield Power Over Our Thoughts

Ajay Devgn made underworld dons appear cool – with an enviable display of control, smoothness and above all, power. As Al Pacino proved in Scarface (1983) that power attracts women, Devgn proved it with Company (2002) and a few years later with Once Upon A Time In Mumbai (2010). In fact, in OUATIM, Emraan Hashmi managed to keep his girl by his side despite ill-treating her. Katrina Kaif’s character fell in love with the Pratap politicians – played by Ranbir Kapoor and Arjun Rampal – who preferred to work the wrong side of the system in Raajneeti (2010). Forget women, even film-maker and actor Farhan Akhtar admits a strange fascination with Don’s character, leading him to remake the old classic. There is a natural instinct in women – as much as they like to nurture, they like to be protected. And who better to protect them than an unstoppable man who can rule a better part of the world?

Their Good Outweighs Their Bad?

Movies on real-life characters tend to tread on eggshells, portraying a primarily positive perspective of characters that have been perceived as heading down the wrong path. Guru (2007), for instance, portrayed the protagonist, Gurubhai (loosely based on Dhirubhai Ambani) in a very favourable light, in the role of an inspiring leader. Sarkar (2005), where Amitabh Bachchan plays a character assumed to be based on Bal Thakeray, creatively designed like The Godfather, showed him to be a man of steel and goodness parcelled with a lack of concern for human life.

They Win Our Sympathy

While Shiney Ahuja’s character in Gangster (2006) and Sanjay Dutt’s Raghu in Vaastav (1999), were all about the fallen man – looking desperately for love’s respite or salvation, Imran Khan’s Kabir in Kidnap (2008) saved face with his inner good guy winning over the bad. John Abraham touched a soft spot in his I’m-a-terrorist-but-a-good-guy in New York (2009). You may not be able to love these characters, but they do win your sympathy – and strangely that is a way into women’s hearts, sometimes.

They Need Rescuing

A step up from the sympathy vote is actually pulling them out of the quagmire. Abhay Deol has made it his prerogative to be the lack-lustre hero – think Dev D (2009) in particular – who’s always finding himself and losing his love. His women have to deal with his incapacities, and many love him despite it. Sanjay Dutt’s Ballu in Khalnayak (1993) immortalized the hero who loved, lost and died a pitiful love life.

They Have Converted from Lover to Lover Boy

You know this has to be about Salman Khan. He made every girl fall in love with Prem from Maine Pyar Kiya (1989) and then ran away from this good guy image, and embraced that of the playa. He played the field in every possible movie – even played the role of the playing-the-field-mentor in No Entry (2005), and carried a successful bunch of romantic comedies on merely his inability to remain faithful.

And so it goes that there’s nothing like a wayward love interest to make life a bunch of prickly roses. And there’s probably a make-your-bed-and-lie-on-it pun there somewhere….

Rockin’ Rockstar poster

28 Wednesday Sep 2011

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Musings

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Bollywood, imtiazali, indiancinema, Rockstar

See the full gallery on Posterous

Imtiaz Ali’s upcoming movie, Rockstar, starring Ranbir Kapoor and Nargis Fakhri has some absolutely stunning artwork and sketches. Very reminscent of the angry young man bollywood posters of the 70s, but far superior. The artist is Grzegorz Domaradzki from Poland, and I can’t wait to see what more he has in store. I wonder if Imtiaz Ali will think of marketing some of this beautiful artwork as a part of the promos? Like selling the posters – remember the time we used to find Salman, Aamir and Madhuri posters all over the place to be kept on walls?

PS: Font remind you of Def Leppard any one? It’s not identical, but quite reminiscent.

Check out a great interview with the artist here: http://onesmallwindow.com/interviews/those-cool-rockstar-posters/

Some related links:

Grzegorz Domaradzki’s official website
Grzegorz’s Vector Movie Posters series.
Rockstar – Official Website

Big Misses, Small Catches

17 Wednesday Aug 2011

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Art, Literature & Culture, Features & Trends, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Bollywood, indiancinema

Published: Verve Magazine, July, 2011

The masala dailies have wrung their words out trying to understand what happened last year. Heavyweights sunk at the box office and a handful of unknowns, nobodies and alternates walked away with the entire silver screen pie. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh decodes the enigma of the mega-budget losses and small-movie wins

Recently, film critic Rajeev Masand wrote a column deriding the excesses of the Indian film industry. He spoke about the glory of big budgets – including the cost of taking star wives and their entourage shopping – being washed out in the final tally at the box office, when the film faces the music of a silent box office register. While he was talking about an upcoming film, it is bringing back into focus the hot topic of discussion – namely the cold slush of the big-budget movies that failed miserably, against the refreshing warmth of the surprise hits: small films that made it huge.

Like a sudden bad hangover from the ’90s, Indian cinema is facing a crisis of money: too much money chasing an average story, a tired movie star, and refurbished content. The lucrative movie-making business has created an illusionary clout of movie stars and divas, gift-wrapped with zero professionalism and huge egos. These stars continue to be bankable at the box office, which is why big banners are willing to turn a blind (albeit bleeding) eye to their demands. After all, at the end of the day everyone rakes in the big bucks and trills home happy.

Suddenly though, expensive movies are not enough to attract the audience: with a refreshing sensibility that one wished would extend to our political choices, moviegoers have shunned some of the biggest movies last year. Big in the form of stars, directors, production houses, and production costs (see box for details). Think Kites, Tees Maar Khan, Guzaarish, Raavan. Before that, Saawariya, Blue, What’s Your Raashee? and even My Name Is Khan didn’t fare as well as one would have expected or the producers preferred to suggest. What went wrong? The formula elements were there: masala, big actors, varied concepts, established directors, expensive marketing and sufficient money chasing all of it to get a rise out of the staunchest movie buff.

How big can the movie be? The money being poured into the movies has become ostentatious without any sign of equal returns. This has led to a sudden flow of in-movie advertising, a desperate bid to sell music, cable and overseas distribution rights to the highest bidder. The problem lies in production costs. When a great amount of money is poured into lavish film sets, movie star salaries and their entourage fees, shooting abroad, and with relaxed schedules, it becomes impossible to recover those costs. And many times, the glitz outdoes the actual story. In the age of information overload, content is king: a good movie primarily needs a good script to work, the rest will follow. Udaan, one of the best movies last year, did well despite the odds; and others lost out despite the factors in their favour.

The final tally
It is not so much the audience that is changing as much as the amount of money being poured into a film that is challenging the final tally. Does a movie deserve that kind of money? Take Blue, or Kites for instance. Both gambled big, banking on the larger-than-life phenomenon: hoping that international locales (ridiculous when you see Kites which is shot in a barren desert) and a carrot of expensive productions would be a box-office draw. Possibly with the fact that much of the audience is now far more well-travelled, satellite television provides enough entertainment in the form of international scenery, viewers don’t necessarily want to go to the theatre merely to see American scapes or underwater corals.

Shah Rukh Khan’s RA.One, rumoured to have a budget of Rs one billion, makes it one of India’s most expensive films. Releasing later this year, Khan claims that the ambitious movie calls for special effects (collaborating with international teams) and cutting corners just won’t do the trick. With satellite rights already reportedly sold to Star India for Rs 40 crore, the film is playing the high stakes. Even if Khan magnanimously feels that he is setting the standard for technically well-produced movies and is ready to bear the costs of being such a trend-setter, no one can hope to gamble with big numbers and go in ready to fail.

More than the death of the blockbuster mega banner film, as some reports are willing to tout, what has emerged is a license to live for the small or medium film. Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s ’70s and ’80s saw the popularity of small films that spoke to the finer sensibilities of a discerning audience. Lately there have been slick mega-budget movies appealing to the grandeur of an emerging and moneyed India. Ironically, rather than get washed away in the gloss of a mega film, smaller films now, once again, have a greater chance of surviving, not only because of a good product, but particularly because their budgets are controlled. The big budget movies’ wins are meagre, their losses massive – so it’s not surprising that established production houses like Excel Entertainment (run by the Akhtars and Ritesh Sidhwani) are willing to stake their bets on smaller films like Karthik Calling Karthik, to give them room for one Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, releasing this month.

Where the star cast is willing to share in the profits than take a big upfront fee also makes a difference in the movie business – think Aamir Khan, Farhan Akhtar, Shah Rukh Khan, Imran Khan. Guzaarish, for instance, started out in the red – after paying out massive amounts to the three heavyweights: director Sanjay Leela Bhansali, and actors Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, added to which the cost of making the lavish film, it was left with a massive total to bat towards. Even with a decent opening weekend, you cannot lay your bets on pulling in those kind of numbers. What may change the dynamics of the game is producers getting smarter and not trigger-happy stretching their purse strings for stars like Akshay Kumar who demand larger amounts and who believe in cross-bargaining, or even those directors, like Sanjay Leela Bhansali who genuinely think they are worth that much.

A talking point
Inevitably, the success of a film gets measured by numbers and the total pull from the box office. Which means that for a movie to be successful in a wide and diverse audience mix, it needs to satisfy various segments of society – which is impossible for one trying to be different. It then becomes obvious that such a film must be made with a small budget, so that the niche audience it is catering towards will accept it, and it can recover costs and possibly encourage others to take baby steps forward. There are few films in that mould which can satisfy enough people to become a talking point and generate sufficient traction to make it successful across the board. Udaan is one such film – like Iqbal (2005) was at one point of time. This works because an inspirational story has a universal appeal.

Certain films have recently faced flak because of too much ‘Hollywoodisation’. Kites took a Hollywood-type story, placed it in a Hollywood-style location and brought in technicians and a look from that part of the world. Besides the failings of the story, direction and editing, what didn’t resonate with the Indian audience was the fact that the mindset of the characters also became Western. As the Yash Raj and Dharma stable has proved time and time again, the locales and the clothes can be Western, but the identity and characterisation shouldn’t. While the movie may be echoing how a certain portion of the urbane youth is beginning to feel, it doesn’t resonate with the Indianness of the Indian culture. The audience seems to prefer an aspirational look and styling, with a strong Indian sensibility. Possibly a reason why Tanu Weds Manu or a Band Baaja Baaraat scored over Anjaana Anjaani and Break Ke Baad, despite the fact that the former had an average production and the latter a slick and well-styled product.

Within the milieu of an Indian sensibility, movies that were of the different mould, may not have been runaway successes, have nevertheless prepared us to accept experimental stories: Karthik Calling Karthik, Ishqiya, Anjaana Anjaani, Wake Up Sid, Rocket Singh, Love, Sex Aur Dhoka, Dev D. Rather than embrace the old formula, others would now be more willing to tread unknown waters. Would Delhi Belly – releasing this month – stand a chance if Aamir Khan Productions, UTV and Imran Khan were not associated with it? Possibly not – there is something reassuring about a safe bet. The viewers trust Aamir’s choice, and there will be people willing to see – even if out of sheer curiosity – what he has to offer next.

Great expectations
That leads one to expectations. One expects that a movie that has a big name or multiple big names attached to it would be good. So heavyweights act like our elected representatives – we trust them to be discerning in their choices, to provide us entertainment. And sometimes, as was the case with Madhuri Dixit, we also believe that they can make even an ordinary film superlative by their mere presence. The basic premise when we know big names are associated with a project is ‘How bad can it be? It’s worth a watch.’ This is what producers bank on to recover their costs in the first weekend, and it is what makes stars feel invincible.

And the small films that became conversation starters, centrepieces and endnotes? Besides a fresh script or perspective, what they have in common is that they have at least one big banner backing them and possibly even a big production house overseeing things – Udaan (UTV), Once Upon A Time in Mumbaai (Balaji Motion Pictures), Peepli [Live] (UTV and Aamir Khan Productions), Ishqiya (Shemaroo and Vishal Bharadwaj Pictures), Band Baaja Baaraat (Yash Raj Films), Tanu Weds Manu (Viacom 18 Motion Pictures). UTV readily picks what would appear to be more experimental films – think its round up of Mumbai terror movies in 2008, while other big banners are following suit by adding smaller films to their stable to balance the money being poured into a bigger venture. UTV Motion Pictures has actually been a part of a good number of the losing films last year, but has saved face with the popularity of the small films it backed.

Brand value
Would the backing of notable production houses attract top stars to milder scripts? Maybe, if they didn’t worry so much about their brand value dipping with lower sign-up fees, they (and then in return big banners) would be willing to hedge their bets on smaller films. Would Aishwarya have done films like Chokher Bali or Raincoat (even though it meant working with acclaimed Rituparno Ghosh) in the middle of her career trajectory, had she had plum offers in hand at the time? Possibly not. At a certain stage of stardom, movie stars tend to become particularly risk-averse, afraid to jinx a happy mainstream run. Which is ironic from the tally last year – all the top stars have struggled to make it through, while non-A-list actors like Kangna Ranaut, Anushka Sharma and Madhavan, and a new breed of directors have scored big – simply by having nothing to lose.

Another recent game-changer: in a rapid movement, social media has played a role in reducing the impact of big names versus good movies. With previews and online buzz allowing a good film to gain traction possibly even before the first weekend opening or very quickly during the first weekend, it stands a fair chance of doing well overall, and continuing for a longer time in cinemas and then negotiating a more competitive price for DVD and cable rights. On the flipside, social media still only reaches out to a few multiplex audiences in the urban sectors, lacking a strong overall impact.

At the end of the day, it’s some bad choices that have made this a conversation piece: people will not stop being drawn to the glamour of huge films. As we have seen, the buzz about Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara more than sizzles, with an overwhelming amount of names (Hrithik Roshan, Katrina Kaif, Farhan and Zoya Akhtar) and their unique combinations, including Abhay Deol and Kalki Koechlin, guaranteeing a sizeable opening. With the recent disappointments though, what will happen is that smaller films, which would ordinarily be considered niche and maybe even risky propositions, will now become more attractive to audiences who are looking for more challenging views. So the chances are the urbane audiences will watch Zindagi… and Delhi Belly this month with equal gusto. As long as there are some steady players: financiers, producers, directors and actors ready to take the plunge with small, experimental, unique films, willing to adjust budgets for the cause of the film rather than their pockets or egos, there will continue to be a breeding ground for good cinema. Where cinema remains an art form before it becomes a business.

BIG GUNS WHO MISSED THE SHOT

7 KHOON MAAF
Vishal Bharadwaj, Priyanka Chopra,
UTV Spotboy

VEER
Salman Khan,
Eros International

ACTION REPLAYY
Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, Akshay Kumar, Vipul Shah,
PVR Pictures

GUZAARISH
Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Hrithik Roshan, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan,
UTV Motion Pictures

RAAVAN
Mani Ratnam, Abhishek and Aishwarya Bachchan, Reliance Big Pictures,
Madras Talkies

LAFANGEY PARINDEY
Deepika Padukone, Neil Nitin Mukesh,
Yash Raj Films

KITES
Hrithik Roshan, Rakesh Roshan, Anurag Basu,
Reliance Big Pictures

BREAK KE BAAD
Kunal Kohli Productions, Reliance Big Pictures,
Deepika Padukone and Imran Khan

ANJAANA ANJAANI
Priyanka Chopra, Ranbir Kapoor

KHELEN HUM JEE JAAN SE
Ashutosh Gowariker, Abhishek Bachchan and Deepika Padukone,
UTV Motion Pictures

TEES MAAR KHAN
Farah Khan Productions, UTV Motion Pictures,
Akshay Kumar and Katrina Kaif

Why @delhibellymovie makes for a marketing study

29 Wednesday Jun 2011

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Musings

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Aamir Khan, Bollywood, Delhi Belly, imrankhan, indiancinema, Vir Das

Any movie that has a tagline “Sh!t Happens” is doing two things very knowingly: alienating a section of people, and getting another section of people curious. Possibly only a gamble Aamir Khan is willing to take: selling a movie about potty stuff and a stomach condition. There will be those who will consider him not quite off the rocker, and those who will grudgingly drag themselves into the cinemas next weekend to see what’s up. Or down.

Aamir’s movies would make for a brilliant marketing study in themselves. They use elements of the films very carefully, carving a niche audience even before the release – in this case, possibly queasy college kids – and are always unique. He never tends to repeat himself, and what is fabulous: he never openly sells himself. He sells his intellect, which people have seen and appreciated over the years; he sells his choices, which people have grown to trust; he sells tenets of the movie that may not be obviously saleable and he, ingeniously, makes them saleable.

He waited many years to release this film, even queuing it behind his production house’s other releases, so much so that people got tired waiting for it to release, rumours began spreading about tension brewing between the director and the producers. When he finally decided to release the film, which is a short English-language film (also being dubbed in local languages) without an interval and with no songs (besides background music), he worked in an alternative promotional strategy.

1. Imran Khan, now a household name, is selling sex in the movie. Crushing the ‘nice kid – now married and settled’ image, Imran gets down and dirty in the movie.

2. There are a good number of expletives used – particularly in the song which has been touted as a cult classic ‘Bhaagbhaagdkbose’. The ‘good kids’ of the film, claim to not know these words and their meanings. Aamir suggests an ‘A’ rating. The censor boards get into overdrive. See video of the song (my personal favourite): http://youtu.be/8OVGbdOG7dA

Also: Selling reverse psychology. Telling people not to watch something is like a sure fire way to get the people to come see what they are told not to watch. Snap.

3. The actors remain straight-faced and yet severely dry and mocking in their humour when being interviewed. (See @thevirdas’ tweets about conversations with a journalist)

4. The songs. THE SONGS. For a movie that has no songs, the songs are a raging hit. Shot recently, they are cleverly envisioned – each one a distinct and innovative study in youth culture, popular lingo, satire and clever misconceptions. Music and lyrics, bang on. Cult classics in the making.

5. Soft selling. What does the youth who will be coerced to watching this movie want? T-shirts. Funky, irreverent t-shirts, selling the Delhi Belly brand. Imran and the others are busy doing that.

6. Food: Delhi Belly refers to a stomach condition. You find the Delhi Belly trio, ironically being photographed at gourmet and fine dining places – presumably to now avoid getting a ‘delhi belly’?

7. Irreverence. Therein lies the foundation on which this film is built. Three kids go through sh*t. And hopefully come out of it alive. With the name, the songs, the attitude and the overall marketing, Delhi Belly is selling a good degree of irreverence.

8. Item Number: Aamir, is for once, selling himself. An item number done 70s disco style. #MAJORWin. See video: http://youtu.be/IGYA_P7ZHcw

9. I like a movie that sells it’s men rather than it’s women. A gratifying change. However ‘shitty’ it might be.

Now it’s just up to the target audience to lap it up.

Aamir has a way of making films and concepts iconic and into a brand. His auteur, unlike other directors, isn’t a kind of film, it’s merely good cinema – path-breaking, unique, and never cut from the common cloth. The success of his films has enough to do with his marketing brainwaves, experience and perfection at the editing table as it does with the film itself. SO much nicer than cheap marketing pot shots that many other films are reduced to.

Whom Women Want: Imran Khan cover story

13 Saturday Nov 2010

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Interviews (All), Interviews: Cinema, Interviews: Cover Stories, Publication: Verve Magazine

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Avantika Malik, Bollywood, I Hate Luv Storys, imrankhan, indiancinema, Kidnap, Luck, Nuzhat Khan, vervemagazine

Published: Verve Magazine, Verve Man Supplement, Cover Story, October 2010
Photographs: Joy Datta

He’s the hot cake of the film industry, has a thriving gay fan following and is quite the favourite with the ladies. This is Imran Khan after he’s delivered his second big hit, I Hate Luv Storys and has a movie lined up with nearly every top actress in the industry: a big notch up from his overnight debut success. While Verve’s camera captures a day in the life of the movie star, Sitanshi Talati-Parikh looks beyond his distracting good looks to discover what makes him tick and makes him the coolest catch in town

“I’ve wanted him to be a man women would like,” is how Nuzhat Khan begins the conversation about her only child. Even the toughest detractors and hardest cynics would find it impossible to dislike 27-year-old Imran Khan, who admits to have consciously imbibed the best aspects of favourite characters from classic books, movies and comics. So, in a sense, the elusive, romantic notion of the man that women chase from fiction is actively present in Imran’s personality. Does that make him perfect? “It’s a work-in-progress,” he grins. In Nuzhat’s ideal lies a fundamental difference that sets Imran apart – while others stop at being good according to their own definition, Imran without self-deprecating, without martyring himself, goes the extra mile to be universally likeable.

This precocious child started speaking long, coherent sentences at a very early age – and in Nuzhat’s words, “He was a complete person even as a child, never requiring disciplining – I could talk to him like a grown-up.” It doesn’t appear to be a statement stemming from a maternal fondness, because she has always attempted to look at Imran as an unrelated person, without bias. “I would hate for him to have grown up thinking he’s special because his mother thinks so – it should be because he believes it.” And that is what makes Imran self-assured. “I don’t think I’ve ever had issues with self-doubt. What I can’t change, I don’t let it influence or affect me. Even if it may seem unnatural for a teenager to be so, I have always been a kind of calm, reasonable, logical person – prided myself on being mature. It is something I consciously hold onto, that I’ve never wanted to lose. I always wanted to be the guy who can handle a situation.” And he can do that, MacGuyver-style, in any condition, under any circumstance.

This what his fiancée, Avantika Malik, in her light, lilting voice, lists as one of the traits that makes him the man she has known to love for eight years and counting, from the age of 19. She finds that through career choices veering from wanting to remain behind-the-scenes as a director, to embracing the limelight as a hero, nothing has changed in the boy she dated and the man she is soon to be married to. “The great thing about Imran is that at his very core, he remains completely the same, grounded and real, though it’s true that he carries himself with more ease and with greater confidence now than ever before.” Avantika admits that her respect for him also stems from the vital fact that he has never given her any reason to doubt his intentions, always being honest and forthcoming about his feelings. She quotes her mother, Vandana Malik, here, who describes Imran as, ‘one of very few God’s good people.’

What makes Imran refreshingly undiabetic, though, is his well-controlled moodiness – evidenced by his need for alone time – his sharp wit, often sardonic and dry, and his toe-the-line principles. You can’t cross boundaries he’s drawn because doing so endangers the very nature of that relationship and his tolerance towards you. But if you work within these limits, you can find in him a genuine friend – warming your grey cells against his razor-sharp repartees. Sonam Kapoor, his co-star in I Hate Luv Storys, marks “his humility and hunger for knowledge, but most of all his quirky sense of humour” as appealing, and Deepika Padukone, with whom he has the upcoming romantic dramedy Break Ke Baad, finds him a fun, supportive co-star, calling him, ‘Mr-Know-It-All.’ “Imran likes to know everything about everything and if there’s ever a time that he doesn’t, he will immediately read up or Google it.” Also known as ‘Imikepdia’ among his friends, intelligence in liberal doses is something Imran prides himself in having: “My dad (Anil Pal, IT professional in Sunnyvale, California) – after all, mera baap hai – knows more about everything than I can ever know. Currently it’s uncool to know stuff, but I have always considered it to be a good thing to be knowledgeable.”

That knowledge extends to supporting causes he believes in, whether it is attempting to create a greener world – he contributed an essay on being environmentally-friendly for Verve last year – to standing up for one’s democratic rights like voting or finding a shelter for homeless animals. With his personal brand of humour and wit, he uses his columns and public forums to inspire people into action – fighting religious myopia and mediocrity, for instance. And he walks the talk: ensuring that his house is environmentally friendly, adopting stray animals and taking criticism positively to ensure achieving his own potential. It works for him, after all, women haven’t given up on idealism: Saan, co-moderator of his unofficial fan site (www.imran-khan.org) is rather taken in by his principles: “I find his honest dedication to good causes and his belief in human beings very hot.”

Sex-appeal? With Imran it’s never about the superficial stuff. “Good looks are not it. People are sweet and well behaved. But for my family, we lay a great deal of importance on integrity. It means different things for different people, but he doesn’t let go of that principle,” says Nuzhat. Imran accurately assesses that people gravitate towards his personality. “People like me when they meet me. I am an amiable, easy-going person. I like people and that translates well. Rakes work for younger women – say until the age of 25-26. I’ve always been the good guy, and up until a certain time I had absolutely no success with women…and suddenly everyone starts coming forward with, ‘You’re such a great guy!’ and I’m thinking, ‘Where were you 10 years ago?’” While his contemporaries play the field as cavalier Wickhams and Willoughbys, Imran remains the quintessential dependable Darcy. As Shaima, the founder of his fan site observes, “What I love about him is that he may be your typical heartthrob, but he isn’t a heart-breaker.” The fact that he has been in a committed relationship for longer than even he can remember may have something to do with it, but as Imran points out, he is quite the unlikely candidate to be “having short-lived affairs with aspiring actresses and models.”

There is a sense of vulnerability about the boy-man that is carefully concealed. I noticed it when I inadvertently came across him eating a boxful of chocolate bars, trying to calm his nerves before going in front of a live audience, over a year ago. You get barely a moment to notice it, before it flickers away. The face is always composed, the voice is always modulated and the feathers are impeccably unruffled. He is never reactionary: his sensitive personality is reined in by his logic-driven outlook. “My motivations are emotional, but my actions are rational. Both take place simultaneously. I’m not a shoulder people cry on; I am the guy who gives advice. Emotionally I am not great – I’m a fairly emotionally reserved person. People bring me things to fix, I’m a mechanic.”

And where reason is important, experimentation isn’t a part of who Imran is – he doesn’t choose to tread dangerous waters unless it will take him to the next step in his calculated climb to the top. Despite the fact that the prudence of his choices were questioned when he faced flak for films Kidnap and Luck, Imran makes every decision after great deliberation – he rarely, if ever, backtracks on that choice. He is quick to rectify errors, learn from the past and lay the foundation for the future, all the while maintaining a stoic demeanour about the present. For instance, his earlier bluntness – stemming from the inability to see the ramifications of brute candour – has now been prudently replaced by tactful replies, truthfulness coated with a barely perceptible paint of diplomacy. You would believe him to have a mental check-list, of the kind of movies he wishes to do, about the people he wants to work with, about the path his life should take, and find him actively fitting pieces of the puzzle to make it all fall into place.

The culmination of being inherently good, irrefutably smart, and irreverently humourous makes him a person you’d want to know despite his potential of being a big movie star. Imran is very clear about stardom: “You have to be a bankable star – to justify the money. You wear different hats. Being treated with deference can get irritating, because it can get too much; but not being treated with deference, bothers you too. I wear no hats in real life.” Twenty months ago, Imran prided himself on being the guy next door, who could roam around town ‘practically invisible’. Today, after the aggressive promos and resounding success of I Hate Luv Storys, he finds himself the reluctant star – unable to do so anymore. While he believes in positive fan interaction, he’s withdrawn from the popular social networking tool, Twitter, to ensure meaningful conversations over general mass following. Few can be actors before they are stars, few can uphold the integrity of their work over the drug of adulation and you believe he is one who can, possibly insulated by his rootedness. Nuzhat, with sudden maternal candour admits, “Yes, I worry that his goodness can suffer at the hands of the movie industry, but more so, I hope Imran never becomes content with mere success, but pushes the limits towards better and more meaningful work. And I don’t mean that for movies alone – but for it to extend to every part of his life.”

Post the success of his first film and the lack-lustre performance of two soon after, he wasn’t noticeably insecure, but definitely eager to prove himself once again. He took the beating in his stride, with the same equanimity with which he handled his overnight rise to fame. Today, there is a sense of retribution inflected in his tone – his choice of words denote an obviously confident person, who is merely reflecting the assurance that repeat success brings. While he doesn’t believe in destiny and can’t predict the future, he is secure: in the knowledge that he has everything that he would need to make his world go around – career back on rails, the power to pick and choose from the best of the industry lined up at his door, the girl, the family, and complete faith in himself. Al Pacino’s Tony Montana in Scarface famously said, ‘First you get the money, then you get the power, then you get the woman.’ Imran may have got it all in the wrong order, but for all the right reasons, he’s hot, he’s wanted and it looks very much like he’s here to stay.

Imran Notes
“Being the only child, I had more one-on-one time with my parents and time to introspect. I can’t deal with loud noise – like TV. I need regular periods of silence and quiet.”

“Who knows what makes you sexy? I think my personality works for me – people like me when they meet me. I am an amiable, easy-going person.

Imran owns a rare edition of his favourite comic book, batman, a Batman tie and believes that were he to have a superpower, it would be MacGyvering. He’s a Star Wars fan and considered being an archaeologist post an Indiana-Jones phase.

Imran Style Guide
He’s been known for his quirky tees, comfort-fit denims and one-of-a-kind sneakers. The ones he is wearing at the Verve shoot are hand-painted Beatles Nike keds sourced by Avantika from LA. Lately, inspired by old movies and the Rat Pack’s sharp “badass” attire, he has decided he wants more from the way he dresses. He’s decided to “bring back the suit by taking that style of dressing and turning it over on its head. It’s not about what you do. You wear it, don’t let it wear you.” To drive the point home, he quotes Alec Baldwin from 30 Rock, who when asked why he’s wearing a tuxedo at work, snaps back, ‘It’s after seven, what am I, a farmer?’