29 aprile 2014

Highway : Recensione



[Blog] Recensione di Highway (2014), nuovo lavoro di Imtiaz Ali. Con Alia Bhatt e Randeep Hooda. Colonna sonora di A.R. Rahman.

24 aprile 2014

Elio e le Storie Tese: L'eterna lotta tra il bene e il male

[Archivio] Pronti per una vera chicca? Nel 1997 il gruppo Elio e le Storie Tese pubblicò la raccolta Del meglio del nostro meglio - Volume 1, album che includeva l'inedito L'eterna lotta tra il bene e il male. Una sorpresa per tutti i bollywoodiani tosti: la canzone contiene un (martellante) campionamento del brano Very good very badtratto dalla colonna sonora del film Trimurti del 1995, diretto da Mukul S. Anand e interpretato da Shah Rukh Khan, Anil Kapoor e Jackie Shroff. (Grazie a Roberto per la segnalazione).

23 aprile 2014

Ranveer Singh: spot Durex

Quest'oggi è stato diffuso in India il primo spot pubblicitario di una marca di preservativi con un attore bollywoodiano come testimonial. Il giovane, stiloso, lanciatissimo Ranveer Singh ha osato infrangere il tabù, ed eccolo danzare e perfino cantare nell'energetico video promozionale Do The Rex.


22 aprile 2014

Rani Mukherjee a Aditya Chopra sposi in Italia


La notizia, che pareva un pesce d'aprile arrivato in ritardo, è ormai confermata da tutte le principali testate giornalistiche indiane. Dopo anni passati a smentire la loro relazione Rani e Aditya si sono finalmente sposati ieri con una cerimonia per pochi intimi tenuta segreta fino a questa mattina. Incontenibile il desiderio di conoscere la location italiana prescelta dalla coppia, indicata al momento solo come una "tranquilla località di campagna". Altro non si sa e la curiosità cresce, soprattutto per il fans italiani. Intatto twitter e internet si scatenano con messaggi d'auguri da parte delle altre celebrità, e articoli dedicati. Al momento non è rintracciabile in rete alcuna foto ufficiale dell'evento, se non alcuni scatti rubati alla coppia durante le celebrazioni di Diwali in casa Chopra. Congratulazioni agli sposi! E grazie per aver scelto il nostro bellissimo Paese!

21 aprile 2014

Total Siyapaa : Recensione


[Blog] Recensione di Total Siyapaa, divertente commedia degli equivoci con un cast di tutto rispetto : Ali Zafar (autore e interprete anche della colonna sonora), Kirron Kher, Anupam Kher e Yami Gautam. Diretto da E.Nivas.

20 aprile 2014

Le prime del 25 aprile 2014: Kaanchi

Dopo una lunga gestazione, arriva finalmente nelle sale indiane Kaanchi, il nuovo attesissimo lavoro di Subhash Ghai. Definito un musical-thriller, la distribuzione era stata inizialmente prevista per l'agosto 2013. Ma Ghai, che è anche il produttore del film, ha preferito concedersi un periodo di tempo maggiore per dedicarsi meglio alle rifiniture della pellicola. Nel cast, l'esordiente, misteriosa Mishti. Rishi Kapoor interpreta il ruolo dell'eroe negativo. Ghai è forse il regista più autenticamente bollywoodiano, nell'accezione positiva e negativa del termine. I suoi lavori forse non ammalieranno la critica, ma le sue immense doti tecniche conquistano alla prima occhiata. Nessuno visualizza i brani musicali in modo così magnifico e potente come Ghai. La sua abilità di tradurre il suono in immagine è unica al mondo. Forse Kaanchi mi deluderà, ma non vedo l'ora di assaporare ogni fotogramma delle visualizzazioni della colonna sonora, composta da Ismail Darbar e da Salim-Sulaiman. Trailer.

Ranbir Kapoor gira un film con mamma e papà

[Archivio

Il 30 settembre 2013 Euronews aveva caricato in rete un video in italiano dedicato a Besharam che includeva un'intervista concessa da Ranbir Kapoor. La star di Bollywood Ranbir Kapoor gira un film con mamma e papà:

'La più pregiata "fabbrica di sogni" orientale sforna una nuova commmedia d'azione con la superstar trentenne Ranbir Kapoor. L'anno scorso Forbes lo aveva catalogato come una delle massime celebrità indiane che peraltro vanta un notevole patrimonio di diversi milioni di dollari. Sentiamo dalla voce del protagonista come si presenta questo nuovo prodotto cinematografico destinato prima di tutto al vasto pubblico indiano: (...) "E' una commedia e il mio personaggio è un po' sopra le righe, estroso, volgare, un po' disgustoso. Ma è stato divertente interpretarlo. Non credo di voler far diventare questa commedia un marchio, è solo la quintessenza del film d'intrattenimento hindi. C'è la commedia, il romanzo, il dramma, l'azione. Concentra tutto ed è divertente, un nuovo genere per me". Fra l'altro l'attore si esibisce insieme ai suoi stessi veri genitori, il mitico Rishi Kapoor e Neetu Kapoor che interpretano una coppia di poliziotti. Cosa significa girare con i propri genitori? (...) "I preconcetti  direbbero che la cosa spaventa. Ho pensato che mi sarei alterato davanti a loro senza riuscire a creare il giusto dialogo. Soltanto perchè erano i miei genitori ma loro stessi sono dei grandi attori, bravi lavoratori, appassionati nel momento in cui andavamo sul set, ben calati nella parte quindi è stata una bella esperienza con una bella dinamica tra i vari protagonisti. Io interpreto un ladro, loro gli sbirri. Divertente".'

Why Vidya Balan rules

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Brunch, il supplemento settimanale di Hindustan Times, offre sempre interessanti approfondimenti di argomento cinematografico. Vi propongo la copertina del numero speciale trimestrale di novembre 2011-gennaio 2012 dedicata ad un'irriconoscibile Vidya Balan, nonché il lungo articolo Why Vidya Balan rules, di Vir Sanghvi, del 17 dicembre 2011. Di seguito un estratto:

'For two weeks now everyone I know and possibly most of urban India has been going crazy about Vidya Balan. Nearly everywhere you go she is the subject of discussion and the conversations are nearly always flattering. The obvious point of reference is The Dirty Picture. For two months before the movie released, Vidya was everywhere. Never before in the history of Indian cinema has a star done so much publicity for a film. And The Dirty Picture was not even a big budget special effects extravaganza. (...) But Vidya appeared on every television show you could think of (and many that you would never have thought of) and in every print publication. (...)
Could it be that everyone loved The Dirty Picture? The box office figures suggest that it will be a massive hit not just relative to its (somewhat modest) budget but compared to most other films released this year. Obviously, this is a picture that everyone has seen and liked. Or it could be that they all think that Vidya is terrific in the movie (which she is)? Few actresses could have carried off that role with so much aplomb and managed to hold their own against an actor of the calibre of Naseeruddin Shah who gives one of his best ever performances. (...)
My view is that India has fallen in love with Vidya Balan all over again (...) not because of her current ubiquity or because of any individual film but because we have finally come to terms with who she is. In an industry full of size zero figures, dancing bimbettes and self-consciously trendy bejeaned muppets, Vidya comes off as a breath of fresh air. Basically, it’s this simple: she is a real person. Everything about her is real: the curves, the little roll of fat that she makes no attempt to hide, the clothes that she chooses herself, the roles that she agonises over before finally selecting one that suits her, the hard work she puts into each performance and then into the promotion, and most of all, the guts she demonstrates in finding her own path against the advice of nearly everybody in Bollywood.

We talk of Vidya’s courage only in terms of her willingness to play a southern sex symbol in The Dirty Picture. But compared to the other things she’s done in her life, this is no big deal. In fact, her whole story is one of courage in the face of impossible odds. Born and brought up in Bombay to a middle class south Indian family, Vidya had a dream: to become an actress. But while other girls with that dream would want to be glamorous heroines, Vidya focused on the acting itself. (...) Vidya’s parents insisted that she (...) studied. She did her BA and then an MA in Sociology. “My father said that I could always become an actress,” she recalls. “But I couldn’t go back to college later in life. So I had to first finish my education and then I could do what I wanted. At the time I was not pleased but now, I can’t thank him enough. My parents were absolutely right.”
The education explains why Vidya started off late. But nothing explains why things kept going wrong for so long. She was eventually signed up for a Malayalam film and though it wasn’t the Bollywood career she dreamt of, at least it was a beginning. Moreover, she was starring with Mohanlal. (...) But Mohanlal had a problem with the film’s makers. And so, halfway through, the movie was abandoned, never to be completed. Because Mohanlal is such a big deal in the south, it was unusual for one of his movies to remain incomplete. And the film industry, ever quick to blame a newcomer, decided it was because Vidya Balan brought bad luck to the project. (...) What followed was heartbreaking. In the initial flush of excitement after she had been cast as Mohanlal’s heroine, she had signed a dozen Malayalam films. She was sacked from every single one of them.
She tried Tamil cinema and found a role. There too, things went wrong. The producer also decided that she was a jinx and she was replaced. She signed a second Tamil film, got to the sets and discovered that it was a sex comedy. She had been signed up under false pretences. Naturally she walked out. And as naturally, she was replaced once again. Desperate to find some work at least, she agreed to act in a (...) music video directed by Pradeep Sarkar. This time she was not replaced and the video was completed but there was a fight between labels and the release of the video was stalled. So, after three years in the film industry, Vidya Balan had been replaced in twelve Malayalam movies, two Tamil films and had made one music video which had been caught up in a legal quagmire and not released. (...) I asked her about her state of mind during that phase. She says that it took every ounce of will power to keep from giving up. (...)

Then, slowly, her luck began to change. She was cast in a Bengali film and discovered that she was a Bengali at heart and learnt to speak the language fluently. (She even sings Bengali songs, one of which she sang on camera for me when I seemed somewhat dubious about her linguistic abilities). Pradeep Sarkar (...) had planned to make Parineeta for producer Vidhu Vinod Chopra and insisted that Vidya would make a perfect heroine. Naturally, Chopra was leery of investing money in a first-time director and a virtual newcomer as an actress. He insisted on auditioning Vidya and she says she has lost count of the number of auditions she did over a period of several months. Finally, Chopra gave in. He agreed with Sarkar that she was the perfect choice for the role and agreed to sign her. (...)
Lage Raho Munna Bhai gave her the stamp of commercial acceptability and it would have been easy enough for her to have joined the Bollywood rat race since success seemed to come so easily and naturally to her. But after some strange films (...) in which she tried to pretend to be what she is not a Bollywood bimbette Vidya decided that this was not part of her original dream. (...) The reason I like Vidya Balan (...) is because she was ready to start from scratch again. She was willing to walk away from one kind of success. She was ready to take risks that seemed like commercial suicide. All because she still believed in that original dream, not in the commercial fantasy that it had morphed into.

The films that have come in the latest phase of Vidya Balan’s career are not those that a commercially savvy actress would have signed. She agonised for three months before agreeing to do Paa even though it offered her a chance to act with Amitabh Bachchan. (...) It wasn’t that she minded playing Amitabh’s mother. It was just that she was terrified of screwing up. As it turned out, she was brilliant. She was terrific as a deglamourised Sabrina Lal in No One Killed Jessica. And she was even better in Ishqiya where she played the kind of character she developed further in The Dirty Picture: a woman who is willing to use her sexuality in the advancement of her own interests.
Even so, The Dirty Picture represented a huge risk. Hindi cinema no longer requires its heroines to be virginal angels of innocence. But I can’t think of a single other film where a heroine is shown as seducing a man simply to advance her career and is still treated as a sympathetic character. And then there was the terrible visual deterioration that her character suffered at the end of the movie. Which heroine would agree to do all this without wondering about the effect on her stardom? But Vidya took the risk. She liked the role, she said. It offered her a chance to take a character that society looked down on and to invest that person with dignity and depth. Her character didn’t have to be somebody you felt sorry for. You just had to accept that she was an independent woman making her own choices in her own interests. “‘Treat her with respect,’ was my motto,” she says. Now that the risk has paid off and the film is such a stupendous success, it is easy to say that Vidya was right to take the role. But had it gone wrong, it could well have been career suicide.
Except I don’t think that Vidya cares too much about that any longer. She doesn’t care about image or about body issues. She’s happy to be a star. But she’d much rather be an actress. At some level, I think all of us recognise that in Vidya we are dealing with a real person who is making real choices and not with some machine-made, image-manipulated Bollywood star. We respect her risks. We admire her resilience. And we know that even if we didn’t do all of this, even if we didn’t go to see her movies, it would not make that much difference to her. Because after those years of disappointment, rejection and experimentation, Vidya Balan has found her destiny. And her destiny is simply this to be her own person. To be Vidya Balan'.

19 aprile 2014

Hasee Toh Phasee : Recensione


[Blog] Recensione di Hasee Toh Phasee godibilissima commedia romantica interpretata da Parineeti Chopra e Sidhart Malhotra diretta dal debuttante Vinil Mathew.

15 aprile 2014

35 years on, the Sholay fire still burns

[Archivio

La locandina è pura meraviglia e ne vorrei una gigantografia a casa. Il film è un magnifico classicone. Amitabh Bachchan è DIO e ciò vi basti. Insomma: impossibile averne abbastanza di Sholay, il titolo più celebre e amato della cinematografia popolare in lingua hindi e forse del cinema indiano. Il 24 luglio 2010 Hindustan Times pubblicava un bell'articolo, 35 years on, the Sholay fire still burns, dedicato alla pellicola:

 'It drew its inspiration from multiple Hollywood movies but went on to become the quintessential Indian film, perfectly balancing drama and tragedy, romance and violence, comedy and action. (...) Sometimes described as an Indian curry western, Sholay is still a reference point for Indian cinema and impossible to pin down to any one genre. (...) Director Ramesh Sippy was called a magician for the spell he cast. (...) "We had no idea that this will become such a huge film. We conceived an idea and when we started working on the screenplay, gradually it dawned on us that the film has more than two important characters," Javed Akhtar, who co-scripted the cult film with Saleem Khan, told IANS. "After 35 years, even the minor characters are used in ads, promos, films and sit coms," he said.
Ironically, there were few takers when Sholay, which translates to fire, released Aug 15, 1975. At three hours and 20 minutes, it was deemed too long. But, in an era where there was no television and no effective visual marketing tools, word of mouth worked. It ran for five years straight at Mumbai's Minerva theatre, for instance. "No multistarrer worked as Sholay did. It's got everything. It was a complete package. Initially, in the first two weeks, it didn't do well but it picked up from the third week onwards and became an overnight sensation," said trade analyst Taran Adarsh. "It remains the box office gold standard, a reference point for both the Indian film-going audience and the film industry. For Sholay is not merely a film, it is the ultimate classic," film critic Anupama Chopra wrote. (...)
Technologically, too, the movie was one of its kind - Sholay was India's first 70mm film and also the first stereophonic sound movie. (...) Produced by G.P. Sippy at a budget of about Rs.3 crore at that time, it was completed by Ramesh Sippy over a period of two-and-a-half years. It was released with as many as 250 prints. Scriptwriter duo Salim-Javed wrote themselves into posterity, their dialogues being mouthed across the country. They were at their creative best, from scripting action scenes, to flavouring it with romance and comedy, they served the tastiest ever curry for Indian audiences. (...) Sholay still has to its credit a standing record of 60 golden jubilees across India. It was the first film in the history of Indian cinema to celebrate a silver jubilee at over 100 theatres across the country. The plaudits have never stopped. In 1999, BBC India declared it as the film of the millennium. Its run at the Bollywood box office even caught the attention of the Guinness Book of World Records, where it was inducted for its five-year run'.

14 aprile 2014

Kajol: As a single mother, it was tougher for mom

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Kajol a Karishma Loynmoon, pubblicata oggi da Filmfare. As a single mother, it was tougher for mom:

'Ferocious, uncontrollable and loyal to a fault. That’s Kajol for you. When she’s around, the octave levels in the room rise by a few notches. And in her roar, she’s all love. You realise she’s all bark and no bite. (...) Perhaps it’s this child-woman persona that has kept her endeared to a generation of viewers. (...)
How has the meaning of romance changed for you?
A lot. What Ajay [Devgan] and I have today is much deeper. Those 10 minutes we spend together in the day are enough. It’s just that you’re spending time with your spouse. You’re probably discussing stuff or doing your own thing. It’s the comfort and companionship. I used to do this with my mom (Tanuja). My mom, sister and me would sit in three corners and we’d all read. That’s how we’d bond. No one chatted at the time and we were content. Marriage is no different, you can be comfortable with the person even if you don’t say much.
How does he react when you throw a fit?
He gets to know I’ve had a bad day from the way I say hello. He asks me what’s wrong and that’s that. I’ll vent and rant and crib, then he’ll vent and rant and crib. In his defense, he’s not the sort to raise his voice often. But he won’t hold back when he’s absolutely pissed off. But for him to reach that point takes a lot. I get there easily.
What were you like as a newlywed bride?
It took me nearly a year to get comfortable in the house. It took time to come to terms with compromising or feeling at home. It took me six months to go to the ground floor to ask for a coffee. I used to come down every day like a sweet guest. (...) I had the right people backing me.
What’s your take on extra-marital affairs?
I don’t have them. (Giggles) Thank God for it! Frankly, it takes too much time and effort. I don’t know how people do it. As he (Ajay Devgn) tells me, one woman is more than enough. It works for me too. Seriously, I find one man difficult to handle, I can’t imagine handling two and three for that matter. (...)
What are the things Ajay loves about you?
(Laughs) You know after 15 years, you should ask me what are things he hates about me? And I’ll give you a list. Whatever’s not on that list, will be what he loves about me. Jokes apart, when he’s in a good mood, he likes me talking. I think he likes my sense of priority. (...)
What are family holidays like?
They are a mess. I need a two-to-three day holiday to recover from our vacations. I tell Ajay to not look or even talk to me after our holidays. I let the maid do all the work. (...) We take three to four holidays a year usually with the extended family with nieces and nephews. So we’re basically 25 people with the staff. We go for three to four days but for those many days we manage to pack in so much, run around like headless chickens to get things done and also handle kids' tantrums. And we have a blast. (...)
Do you see your mother Tanuja in yourself?
I see a lot of her in me now. I didn’t realise how much of her was in me till I got married and more so when I had kids. It’s happened unintentionally. Her sense of discipline, the way she looks at situations and people, the way she meets people - I think I’m a lot like her. But I’m not as nice or forgiving. We share a sense of conduct and confidence. We have our doubts and fears. But we don’t know what it feels like to be insecure.
She was largely a single mother. Now that you’re a mom, can you fathom the kind of sacrifices she may have made in her heyday?
Definitely. (...) In retrospect, I remember it so clearly. As a single mother, it was tough for her. Now that I think about it, every holiday there was no male figure or maid around to help her out. My mom took us everywhere. (...) We were seven children including my cousins. (...) She used to put us in the car and drive up and down for the weekend. It was amazing! She’s a wonder woman!'.

Anurag Kashyap: That day after everyday e spot Femina India

[Archivio] Il 29 ottobre 2013 Anurag Kashyap aveva caricato in rete il suo cortometraggio dal titolo That day after everyday, della durata di poco più di venti minuti. Da quella data, il video è stato visionato quasi quattro milioni di volte. E già che sono in argomento, vi propongo anche lo spot commissionato da Femina India, interpretato da Kalki Koechlin, diretto da Kashyap nel 2011.

13 aprile 2014

Il flusso inverso dei cervelli secondo il film Swades

[Archivio] 

Vi segnalo il lungo articolo Arrivano i nostri! Dal brain drain al brain gain: il flusso inverso dei cervelli secondo il film Swades, pubblicato da Crepuscoli Dottorali il 2 novembre 2012 a firma Aelfric Bianchi. L'autore, nella sua interessante analisi, affronta il tema della diaspora indiana e della sua rappresentazione nella cinematografia popolare in lingua hindi, soffermandosi su due titoli in particolare: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge e Swades. Bianchi cita anche Lagaan. Di seguito un estratto:

'All’iniziale diffidenza, se non addirittura manifesta ostilità, nei confronti dei “traditori” NRI [Non Resident Indians], alla cui cultura ibridizzata erano contrapposti i valori puri e incontaminati dell’autentico desh agricolo, subentra una loro progressiva rivalutazione, che finisce per farne l’elemento portante di tutto un filone. Scherniti e derisi in una prima fase in quanto imitatori pedissequi dei “corrotti” costumi occidentali, (...) essi assurgono negli anni al ruolo di eroi positivi, capaci di contemperare nel migliore dei modi modernità e tradizione, importando in contesti “altri” proprio l’attaccamento ai principi e agli ideali patri che in passato erano accusati di aver rinnegato. 
A sancire l’inizio di questa nuova tendenza è senza dubbio Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, (...) autentico cult movie ancor oggi amatissimo dal pubblico indiano. (...) La trionfale accoglienza da parte del pubblico indiano (locale ed espatriato) di Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (...) è alla base del proliferare di film incentrati sulle figure di NRI visti nella loro duplice dimensione deshi e foreign, come portatori di un nuovo benessere ma al contempo strenui difensori dei valori più genuini della terra d’origine. (...)
 
Tra le numerose pellicole imperniate su personaggi di Indiani non residenti nella madrepatria, accomunate dai sermoni di acceso tono patriottico, dalle inderogabili sequenze di danza e canto e dalle scene di matrimonio, potrebbe a un primo sguardo confondersi anche Swades: We, the People. Sebbene ne condivida la tematica di fondo, tuttavia, questo film (...) se ne differenzia in maniera radicale sia sul piano prettamente stilistico e formale sia a livello di impalcatura ideologica. Nonostante la presenza di Shah Rukh Khan (...) e gli elogi unanimi della critica, ricevette un’accoglienza piuttosto fredda da parte del pubblico indiano, assurgendo invece a vero e proprio cult movie presso le platee di NRI disseminate nel mondo. (...) Ancora più evidente è il tentativo di contemperare le istanze tipiche del blockbuster (il cui successo è riconducibile a una vasta gamma di fattori, a cominciare dal costante superamento di nuove frontiere sul piano della spettacolarità, dall’offerta di un’esperienza cinematografica immediatamente gratificante a livello sensoriale e dalla capacità di intercettare i gusti, le tendenze e le opinioni più diffuse nella società) con quelle dei film “d’arte” e di superare la tradizionale incompatibilità con il mercato occidentale. (...) Swades (...) rivela nella sceneggiatura la propria diversità. (...) Al pari di Lagaan costituisce un’opera esemplare della svolta epocale ormai in atto nel cinema di massa indiano, raggiungendo un pubblico assai vasto senza cedere alle facili lusinghe dei grandi titoli commerciali, in genere poco amati dalla critica, maltrattati nei discorsi quotidiani degli spettatori “critici”, ritenuti superficiali e semplicisti nella rappresentazione della realtà, ma soddisfacendone comunque i gusti e i desideri e sottraendosi in tal modo al destino della maggioranza dei film “impegnati”, spesso visti soltanto in Occidente perché neppure distribuiti a livello locale. (...) Da non sottovalutare è poi l’assenza in quest’ultimo film di un “nemico” vero e proprio, subito riconoscibile come tale: il “male” risiede infatti nell’ideologia retrograda, nell’arretratezza e nella rassegnazione, ed è quindi un nemico interiore e senza volto, dai contorni non facilmente definibili. (...)
Il processo di cambiamento interiore del protagonista è indagato con finezza in profondità, a differenza di quanto avviene nella grande maggioranza dei film popolari hindi, che, riducendo o addirittura azzerando l’enorme varietà di identità sociali, regionali, etniche e religiose di cui si compone la società indiana, mirano piuttosto a creare una sorta di Eden omogeneo e uniforme, carente di riferimenti alla storia e all’attualità della nazione e popolato non tanto da “uomini reali”, quanto piuttosto da archetipi, modelli perfetti e tipi fissi, sostanzialmente stereotipati (l’Eroe e il Cattivo, l’Eroina e la sua Migliore Amica, il Padre Affettuoso e la Matrigna Crudele). (...) Grande attenzione il regista dedica inoltre all’analisi psicologica dei personaggi secondari, i quali non si limitano a incarnare semplici “maschere”, ma risultano investiti di una marcata impronta specifica e individuale. (...) 

La questione stessa delle caste è affrontata con inusuale garbo e in maniera assai approfondita, senza l’enfasi retorica - e la sostanziale superficialità - che caratterizza molti film bollywoodiani di tematica “sociale”: Mohan [il protagonista], pur opponendosi alle discriminazioni e ai pregiudizi implicati da un sistema che ritiene ingiusto e arretrato, fonda le proprie argomentazioni su motivazioni razionali, argomentandole e discutendole nello spirito di una critica costruttiva, evitando condanne iperboliche e spettacolari e mostrando sempre e comunque rispetto nei confronti di opinioni che non condivide ma che sa bene essere radicate da sempre nella mentalità indiana. Improntata al medesimo realismo è anche la rappresentazione pratica della miseria che si cela sotto la facciata luminosa di una nazione in continua e inarrestabile crescita e delle iniquità di cui essa è permeata. Esemplare in questa prospettiva è la sequenza della proiezione all’aperto di un vecchio successo bollywoodiano (...), con lo schermo che divide non solo simbolicamente gli abitanti del villaggio in due (i membri delle caste inferiori essendo costretti ad assistere al film da dietro), almeno finché non si celebra il miracolo salvifico del cinema, capace di abbattere ogni barriera e di unire tutto il pubblico, sia pure per un istante, in un entusiastico coro di approvazione. Senza dubbio una così atipica e massiccia presenza di agganci alla realtà sociopolitica contemporanea (...) può aver turbato spettatori avvezzi a cercare in prima istanza l’intrattenimento puro e una sorta di rifugio ideale per i propri sogni, contribuendo a determinare l’accoglienza non certo trionfale riservata a Swades. (...) Alla luce di simili premesse, può apparire per certi versi legittimo definire Swades come una sorta di anello di congiunzione ideale tra il filone cinematografico dedicato agli indiani espatriati e i film sociali e progressisti del periodo nehruviano. (...) Emerge dunque con chiarezza l’estrema complessità di un film che si presta a diversi livelli di lettura, capace di coniugare, pur con qualche pecca, intrattenimento leggero e denuncia sociale, spettacolarità e realismo, spirito patriottico e assenza di retorica. (...) Con Swades Gowariker ha saputo senza dubbio rinnovare un modello ormai ritenuto superato, affrontando con sensibilità temi cari a molti registi del periodo post-indipendenza, in particolare a quelli bengalesi: l’oppressione dei più deboli, le diseguaglianze sociali e gli stenti degli strati meno abbienti della popolazione indiana. Parallelamente, ha dimostrato come sia possibile sfruttare un filone consolidato, quello appunto imperniato sulla figura del NRI, in maniera originale. 

Significativa è in quest’ottica la scelta di Shah Rukh Khan nel ruolo di protagonista, in quanto l’attore deve molta della sua immensa popolarità anche fuori dai confini del Subcontinente alle sue numerose interpretazioni di indiani espatriati, a partire dal già menzionato Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. Non a caso la sua prova si è meritata il plauso unanime della critica, che ne ha lodato l’intensità e la misura, a loro volta piuttosto inconsuete nella carriera di King Khan, avvezzo a far convergere su di sé l’attenzione degli spettatori, spogliando i suoi personaggi di ogni parvenza naturalistica per rivestirli di cliché di successo sperimentati, dalla postura fortemente evidenziata alla dizione enfatizzata e lontana dal normale parlato quotidiano, alla drammatizzazione del comportamento fisico e affabulatorio. In Swades, al contrario, la sua recitazione è composta e controllata, scevra di gigionerie anche nelle situazioni dove ci si attenderebbe un suo atteggiamento da “mattatore”. E non è da escludere che una simile anomalia possa a sua volta aver inciso sullo scarso successo commerciale del film, almeno presso il pubblico locale, favorendone al contrario gli ottimi risultati conseguiti in Occidente, non solo tra i migranti indiani. A differenza di quanto accade in numerose pellicole appartenenti al medesimo filone, inoltre, Shah Rukh Khan interpreta qui una figura più complessa, meno ancorata agli stereotipi tradizionali: Mohan incarna in sé, infatti, proprio quell’ambivalenza (...) perlopiù assent[e] nei personaggi dei film commerciali. Lacerato da dubbi e da contraddizioni, fino all’ultimo è preda del dilemma della scelta tra due alternative, nessuna delle quali è del tutto soddisfacente. La sua decisione di tornare nella madrepatria è l’esito di un lungo processo interiore e in quanto tale non si riduce a un mero atto aprioristico, alla conseguenza “naturale” della piena positività associata nel cinema popolare all’eroe. Il suo antagonista non è esterno; risiede piuttosto dentro di lui, nelle sue paure e nelle sue incertezze. Il “nemico” che si oppone al lieto fine non è il terzo vertice del classico “triangolo amoroso”, tanto sfruttato dall’industria bollywoodiana; e nemmeno è, secondo una tendenza assai diffusa, un NRI “cattivo”, che, con le sue perversioni e i suoi vizi, rappresenta l’esatta antitesi del protagonista; bensì è costituito dal suo stesso “lato oscuro”, da un bagaglio di sentimenti contrastanti così “reale” e dunque così estraneo al modello canonico. Con la sua definitiva risoluzione, Mohan non si limita certo a incarnare l’auspicio che al brain drain subentri il brain gain, facendo leva sulla nostalgia, e magari sui sensi di colpa, degli indiani espatriati, ma si spinge oltre, giungendo a indicare una via in grado di superare l’antinomia tra vecchio e nuovo, tra tradizione e modernità, tra Oriente e Occidente, pacificando i due estremi e dimostrandone la possibile coesistenza, in linea peraltro con un pensiero che antepone da sempre l’unità alle differenze'.

9 aprile 2014

Irrfan Khan: spot 7 Up

FA-VO-LO-SO !!! Dimenticate l'ingrigito personaggio di The Lunchbox e godetevi uno scatenatissimo, inedito Irrfan Khan nel nuovo spot pubblicitario commissionato da 7 Up. Da vedere rivedere e rivedere. Nel cast anche Raveena Tandon.

6 aprile 2014

Aishwarya Rai: spot Kalyan Jewellers

Quest'oggi Kalyan Jewellers ha caricato in rete il video del nuovo spot pubblicitario interpretato dalla testimonial del marchio: una sfolgorante Aishwarya Rai.

The name is Bond, Ruskin Bond

Il numero di Brunch in edicola oggi include un'intervista concessa a Prachi Raturi Mishra dallo scrittore Ruskin Bond, nato (e residente) in India da genitori britannici, autore delle opere da cui sono stati tratti i film The blue umbrella (magnifico) e 7 Khoon Maaf, entrambi diretti da Vishal Bhardwaj. The name is Bond, Ruskin Bond:

'You’ve lived in Kasauli, Shimla, Jamnagar, Dehradun, London. What made you settle in Mussoorie?
A few years after my father’s death, my mother sent me to the United Kingdom for “better prospects” in 1951. Those four years were not easy. I had grown up in Dehradun and I missed my friends, my simple life back home. In fact, it was while I was in the UK that I started writing my first book The Room on the Roof. (...) I would work in the day and write at night. I did all kind of jobs to sustain myself. I worked at a grocery store, in the public health department and what was then Thomas Cook and Sons. The last job was particularly interesting but I got fired from it. I had a young woman who was my boss but she soon started having an affair with a fire attendant and was thrown out. I had to manage the show and I must say I made a mess of it. I often took calls and had to do hotel bookings. I never did and in fact don’t still get the hang of bed descriptions. So I often separated people who wanted to sleep together! Then I moved to London and worked at a photo studio. This was an interesting job. All this while though, I worked hard to find a publisher for my book. And when I did and got an advance of 50 pounds, I knew it was enough to get me home to India. Those days one travelled by ship. The tariff to get to India was 40 pounds and I still had ten pounds left!
What were the early days like?
I came back to Dehradun. To begin with, I was very ambitious. So I wrote short stories and poems and religiously bombarded newspaper and magazine editors with them. Sometimes I got lucky and some got selected and I earned a few hundred rupees. Since I was in my 20s and didn’t have any responsibilities I was just happy to be doing what I loved doing best. Also, when you are young, things happen around you rather than to you. So I still remember I was in school when I received a letter that my father was no more. I also remember how I was watching Blossoms in the Dust with a few friends in a hall in Dehradun when the show was stopped midway and we were told that Mahatma Gandhi had been shot. I guess I just trudged along. Fortune and name came much later. I also wrote for children and three of my books were published in London so that lifted my income to some extent. In the summer of 1963 I decided to move to Mussoorie because it had always been close to my heart. Also, it was the closest to Delhi and I wanted to be in touch with all the editors and publishers. I edited a magazine called Imprint from Mussoorie for about four years. It was in the 1980s that Penguin decided to come to India and asked me to work on a few books. I already had hundreds of short stories that I had been writing.
If not an author, what would you have been?
I wanted to be a tap dancer when I was very young. I also wanted to be a footballer and I did play decently. (...) I can still kick the ball well, running after it is another thing altogether. (...)
Do you still use a typewriter to write?
Well, I still have three old typewriters lying at home. Now I only write by hand, something I have always liked. The computer hurts my neck. Besides, I still have decent handwriting so I guess nobody minds much.
What is your day like?
Lazy. I do write every day but I respond to weather. So if it’s a nice sunny day, the kind I love the best, I am in a good mood. When it rains and snows, I am usually a little grumpier.
You have written love stories, children’s books, ghost stories. What do you enjoy writing the most?
It’s difficult to pick a favourite. I guess some of my early short stories like Night Train at Deoli. When it comes to writing, I keep moving between genres. The 1950s and 1960s is what I could call my romantic period... Night Train at Shamli, and The Eyes Have It. Writing for children is fun and in fact recently I had a young boy ask me why there are so many leopards in my stories. I told him, “Well, I’ve always had leopards prowling around the places I grew in.” Also, I guess I just like leopards. I must admit I write ghost stories when I run out of people. I often use my dreams to get inspired for these as I guess dreams have a ghost-like quality to them. But yes, as I grow older I enjoy writing humour because you learn to see humour in a lot of things.
Did you ever get close to getting married?
I did have my share of falling in love. I got close to marriage once or twice but I was finally rejected. You see, I was a very attractive young person. But combine that with being an author who didn’t make much money in his 20s and 30s. Looking back, I have no regrets. A young boy Prem came looking for a job in the early 1970s and I became his default father. Soon he married and had children. Today I have three grandchildren (...) who also have children. So we are actually three generations of the family in the house. (...) I guess I am lucky. I don’t really live like a single old man.
How do you write in a house full of so many people?
An author should be able to write anywhere. In a busy train, in a roomful of people. Once you are in your own world, the surroundings don’t matter as much. Plus l guess I like the feeling of the family around me. It probably helps me make up for the lonely childhood I had'.

5 aprile 2014

Penn Masala: Evolution of Bollywood music

Il gruppo di canto a cappella Penn Masala si è formato nel 1996 alla University of Pennsylvania. I membri, provenienti dall'Asia meridionale, cambiano periodicamente, perché gli studenti che si laureano lasciano il posto a matricole dotate di talento. Il gruppo ha all'attivo ben otto album ed una compilation. Il 29 marzo 2014 i Penn Masala hanno caricato in YouTube un video divertentissimo, Evolution of Bollywood music, nel quale, in soli cinque minuti, ripercorrono la storia delle colonne sonore hindi a partire dagli anni quaranta. Il progetto è davvero geniale, e il filmato si è guadagnato ad oggi quasi 765.000 visite.