Mumbai Film Festival 2023

L'edizione 2023 del Mumbai Film Festival si svolge dal 27 ottobre al 5 novembre. Nel corso della cerimonia d'apertura, Priyanka Chopra consegnerà a Luca Guadagnino il premio Excellence in Cinema (International). Marco Müller presenzierà all'evento. Il 29 ottobre Guadagnino terrà un seminario aperto al pubblico, in compagnia di Anupama Chopra. A seguire, un evento organizzato in suo onore dalla Tiger Baby, la casa di produzione di proprietà di Zoya Akhtar e Reema Kagti. 

RASSEGNA STAMPA/VIDEO (aggiornata al 6 novembre 2023)

- Video ufficiale

- Bellocchio, Rohrwacher e Sollima portano il nostro cinema in India, Cristiana Allievi, Sette, 23 ottobre 2023. Intervista concessa da Anupama Chopra:

'Quest’anno l’impronta italiana sarà forte. A festeggiare 20 anni di vita del festival nella capitale del cinema di Bollywood saranno tre grandi come Marco Bellocchio, Alice Rohrwacher e Stefano Sollima, e non solo: a far parte dello staff di selezione sono due noti professionisti del nostro cinema [Marco Müller e Paolo Bertolini]. (...) 

«In India tutti i cinefili conoscono il cinema di Antonioni, Rossellini, Fellini. E pensando alla generazione successiva, siamo molto legati a Bellocchio, Luca Guadagnino, Nanni Moretti... Il nostro pubblico non ci avrebbe mai perdonato l’assenza di questi registi, quest’anno soprattutto quella di Marco Bellocchio». (...)

Cosa rappresenta un Oscar per il cinema indiano?

«Gli Oscar sono fantastici, (...) ci piace capire come l’Occidente guarda ai nostri film. Ma abbiamo un pubblico enorme e non abbiamo bisogno di conferme, quello che è importante, con vittorie come quella di RRR, è che apre le porte a un’intera industria: in molti iniziano a dire “non sapevo che i film indiani potessero essere così divertenti...”».'

- Mumbai Film Festival Opens With Glamour From Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Honors for Luca Guadagnino and Mani Ratman, Patrick Brzeski, The Hollywood Reporter, 28 ottobre 2023:

'A showreel of Guadagnino’s work - I Am Love, Call Me By Your Name, and the upcoming Challengers, starring Zendaya - was played before Chopra Jonas presented him with a trophy, praising his filmography for its “stunning portrayal of deeply human relationships - the nature of love, identity, and the cinema of desire.” Guadagnino noted from the stage that he was visiting India for the very first time - he had spent the afternoon sightseeing around Mumbai with former Venice and Rome film festival head Marco Müller, also on hand for the event - while hinting that he already felt inspired to try to make a film in the country. “So many arresting images already have come to me,” he said, adding, “I like nuance and I like to see what happens when people interact in a space, so hopefully one day I will be able to achieve that here”.'

27 ottobre 2023

- Luca Guadagnino to be Celebrated at Mumbai Event, Naman Ramachandran, Variety, 28 ottobre 2023: 

'Festival director Anupama Chopra said: “Luca Guadagnino’s oeuvre is extraordinary. As we felicitate him with Jio MAMI Excellence in Cinema Award this year, we’re delighted to host a celebration along with Tiger Baby in his honor. The gathering is a chance for the South Asian talent to engage with him.” (...) The Tiger Baby team said: “We are so delighted to celebrate Luca Guadagnino. We are huge fans of his work and we aren’t the only ones. There are many filmmakers like us in the industry who will get a now have the opportunity to interact with him and let him know that he will always welcomed at Jio MAMI and in India”.'

- Luca Guadagnino had said no to direct Call Me By Your Name: 'I didn't want to do another movie about rich people', Hindustan Times, 30 ottobre 2023.

- Video Filmmaking Masterclass with Luca Guadagnino, Film Companion, primo novembre 2023.

- Nel sito LaScimmiaPensa, il 6 novembre 2023 Carlo Rinaldi riporta alcune dichiarazioni di Guadagnino raccolte da The Hindu: ''Interrogato sul fatto se il cinema indiano abbia influenzato le sue opere, (...) ha risposto: “Guardo molti grandi film, ma la mia formazione nel cinema indiano è quasi classica. Conosco i grandi capolavori e amo alcuni dei film contemporanei. Ma in termini di influenza, se c’è, è probabile che sia inconscia”. Sceglie La moglie sola [Charulata] (...) di Satyajit Ray (...) come uno dei suoi preferiti e lo definisce così: “È uno dei grandi ritratti della solitudine e delle emozioni femminili. È bellissimo”.'

Marco Müller

Shah Rukh Khan: two decades of pure feeling

Vi segnalo l'articolo Shah Rukh Khan: two decades of pure feeling, di Rahul Desai, pubblicato ieri da Film Companion:

'There's a meta moment towards the end of the trailer [di Pathaan] that made me sit up. (...) It features Khan (...) delivering a patriotic punchline. (...) It's not like Khan hasn't played a soldier (...) or a flag-waving patriot (...) before. But those were simpler times - the notion of a Hindi film star was shaped more by artistic merit than religious identity. Nationalism was an honest byproduct of a post-liberalization democracy; nobody cared for surnames as long as the entertainment came. (...)

It's different today. This is now a country conscious of the fact that three of its biggest superstars since 1990 are Muslim. In light of the bigoted Boycott hashtags over the last few years, I found myself pondering about this Jai Hind moment in two ways. One: SRK is currently in the real-world version of Chak De! India, where he is expected to 'prove' his allegiance to this country through the work he does. Two: Khan is returning in a movie called 'Pathaan' in a Republic Day week, as a Muslim super-soldier whose very presence signifies that patriotism and heroism are not solely Hindu birthrights. Perspective lies in the eyes of the beholder. So is it a punchline of compromise or courage. 

I'm leaning towards the latter. It's sad that the discourse has reached this point, but it would be naive to pretend that SRK is just another celebrity. He is now a feeling - pure, complicated, political, personal, cultural - that transcends cinema itself. He is both a story and a statement, a survivor and a reminder. He is an outsider scrutinized for behaving like an insider, and an insider gifted with the hunger of an outsider. This burden of context might colour our experience of Pathaan. Now more than ever, it's impossible to divorce the man from the meaning. And maybe that's not such a bad thing. For better or worse, the fate of Pathaan will say more about this country than the quality of the film itself. (...)

The nerveless nineties (1991-2000) (...)

It was SRK who embedded himself into the conscience of a country waking up to post-globalization Bollywood. (...) SRK became a genre-fluid brand in an age of aspiration. What distinguished him the most was that he wasn't averse to risk. (...) The beauty of this phase is that Khan was, for a large part, unaffected by the frills of stardom. He was still feeling his way around, throwing characters onto the wall to see what sticks. (...) Not everything worked, and it didn't matter. (...)

The wonder years (2001-2010) (...)

Initially, this golden age seemed to liberate SRK from the pressure of 'ruling' the roost. So he wore multiple hats (some of which had rabbits in them) - producer, talk-show host, charming interviewee, awards host, IPL owner, showman, businessman, cameo specialist, actor and prestige-picture star. His on-screen roles became older and wiser: King, tragic, scientist, ghost, coach, husband, bitter husband, older husband, Bollywood star, father. The romances became less aspirational and more practical. Believe it or not, this was a near-perfect decade for Khan in terms of consolidating his talent, tempering his fame and playing his age. (...)

The dark night (2011-2020)

The decline was neither quick nor painless. This was the decade that broke everything except box-office records. Terms like the 100-crore club were in vogue, and it felt like SRK wanted a piece of every cake. As a result, he strived to be everyone but himself - a multiplex hero, a single-screen hero, a hero's hero. (...) It's not like he didn't try. But he also tried too hard. (...) Somehow, every kind of filmmaker (...) made their worst film with Khan'. 

Vedi anche Breaking down Pathaan, the most popular movie in the world, 11 febbraio 2023.

Mapping seven decades of Mumbai's film industry

Se siete in vacanza a Mumbai (beati voi) e volete dedicarvi a del sano cineturismo, nell'articolo Mapping seven decades of Mumbai's film industry, di Sankhayan Ghosh, pubblicato da Film Companion il 16 agosto 2022, troverete alcuni itinerari davvero interessanti con corredo di mappe. Di seguito un estratto:

'If you were to go back in time to the 1940s, this is how the film industry in Bombay would look: Stretching from Grant Road all the way up to Malad, with such off-centre suburbs as Sewri and Chembur serving as important hubs. It's difficult to imagine today. There were studios in Tardeo and Dadar because the studio barons, film stars, directors and composers lived in places like Napean Sea Road and Peddar Road. At the same time, other parts of the city offered nature and open spaces that allowed outdoor shooting. True to the spirit of a city that prides itself for its adaptability, Bollywood shaped and reshaped itself as unstoppable urbanisation devoured Mumbai and real estate prices went up. The centrality of Andheri to the city's film industry over the last four decades has contributed to the idea of the industry belonging to its own bubble, but in its own way, it's mirrored the ever-expanding definition of an ever-growing city, bursting as its seams and surging forward. (...)

In the beginning...

The Grant Road-Tardeo area formed the southernmost cluster of film studios in the city in 1940, known as the original studio road. Jyoti Studios in Nana Chowk is the stuff of legend: Alam Ara (1931), India's first talkie, was shot here; as was (...) the first Iranian sound film. (...)

Eastside Story (...)

In Parel, [in] the Wadia brothers' (...) premises, (...) Wadia Movietone had produced the Fearless Nadia films in the Thirties, (...) but as the fantasy genre ran out of steam, their business fell into debt. When one of the brothers, Homi (who was married to Nadia) went on to begin his own studio, he found the ideal place in the eastern suburb of Chembur. (...) It was 1974. A year later, Raj Kapoor would launch R.K. Studios, an icon for decades before it was gutted by a fire in 2017. Last checked, it has been converted into a premium residential high-rise.

The Queen of Suburbs

When Mehboob Khan was looking for an area for his studio - not as far as Malad, closer to south Mumbai - he found it in a pre-reclamation Bandra. The rest is history. Films like Mother India (1957), Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959) (...) were shot here. Films are still shot at Mehboob, which has kept itself relevant by opening up to events such as an Anish Kapoor exhibition and the Mahindra Blues Festival.

Northward Bound

You would think that the film industry gradually moved northward. But Andheri and beyond, with its bountiful nature and open vistas on offer, was always a part of the its scheme of things. An active cluster was formed in Andheri (East), led by Mohan Studios, where the sets of Mughal-E-Azam (1960) were built and Bimal Roy preferred shooting. (...)

Film industry's final frontier

Further north in Malad was the storied Bombay Talkies. Stars (Dilip Kumar, Madhubala) were launched, state of the art technology was introduced (bringing with it employment for European technicians), scandals broke out (Devika Rani, who was married to the studio founder Himanshu Rai, eloped with the actor Najam-ul-Hassan). When Ashok Kumar, one of the major stars on the studio's bankroll in the early Forties, started his own studio, Filmistan, he chose the Ghod Bunder area in Borivali.

A new Film City

By the end of the Seventies, the studio era was pretty much over. And the game changer was Film City, established by the Government of Maharashtra in 1977 as a one-stop shop for film shoots and constructed in Aarey forest in Goregaon on 520 acres of land. (...)

Andheri Central

With the development of Film City, the film industry was now concentrated in and around Andheri. New clusters were formed. Studios were no more studios but production houses - perhaps with the exception of Yash Raj Films, which has its own floors and facilities. Formed in 2005 in Veera Desai Road, it has for company Balaji Telefilms, Dharma Productions and Eros International. A number of production houses, like Shah Rukh Khan's Red Chillies Production and Farhan Akhtar-Ritesh Sidhwani's Excel Entertainment, are in Khar.

Hustler District

The Aaramnagar compound in Versova has come to signify a new filmmaking culture that has coincided with digital filmmaking taking over celluloid in the 2010s. It's a world unto itself, where bungalows have been converted into film offices and casting agencies, and coffee shops double as working spaces. Director and producer Anurag Kashyap - who could be the patron saint of Aaramnagar - has an office here. (...) The film industry's shift to the north of the city was now complete'.

Sundance Film Festival 2022

L'edizione 2022 del Sundance Film Festival si è svolta dal 20 al 30 gennaio. In cartellone All that breathes di Shaunak Sen, opera che si è aggiudicata il World Documentary Grand Jury Prize. Il 3 febbraio 2022 Film Companion ha pubblicato una lunga intervista concessa dal regista a Sankhayan Ghosh, nella quale Sen, fra l'altro, dichiara: 'I’m deeply interested in the styles of (...) Gianfranco Rosi a lot in terms of how he shoots human, and Roberto Minervini in terms of how he comes out as a kind of hybrid between nonfiction and controlled spaces'. Shaunak Sen on his Oscar-nominated documentary All that breathes.

Aggiornamenti del 26 marzo 2023: All that breathes, in seguito proiettato fuori concorso a Cannes (clicca qui) e a Roma, è entrato nella cinquina dei titoli candidati all'Oscar senza purtroppo aggiudicarsi l'ambita statuetta.

Vedi anche:

- The triumph and tragedy of the Indian documentary, Rahul Desai, Film Companion, 19 febbraio 2022;

- Filming with fire: behind Indian documentary's biggest year, Uday Bhatia, Mint, 26 marzo 2023.

Mammootty: The discreet masculine charm

La superstar del cinema malayalam Mammootty compie oggi 70 anni. Per celebrare l'evento, Film Companion pubblica un lungo articolo nel quale ripercorre la carriera dell'attore. Mammootty - The discreet masculine charm, C.S. Venkiteswaran:

'The variety of roles he has essayed, the diverse acting modes and speech styles he has experimented with, and the untiring efforts he puts into each role, are phenomenal to say the least. (...) A rare and unique combination of magnetic personality, physical charm, longevity of career, diversity of roles and ever-increasing popularity - all make Mammootty one of the greatest actors in Indian cinema. (...) 

He entered the scene when major actors of the earlier era were at the fag end of their careers. (...) This was the scene when both Mammootty and Mohanlal entered it in the early 80's. But it was the decade when the Malayalam film industry was witnessing a huge jump in terms of production: from around 80 films a year in the previous decade it rose to more than 110, averaging about 2 new releases every week! It was also a period when gulf remittance to Kerala was on the rise, spurring film production and the growth of exhibition halls. In terms of content, treatment and themes too, this decade proved to be very prolific: films of all kinds - 'art', 'middle' and 'commercial' - and genres - suspense thrillers, family dramas, northern ballads, socials, films based on contemporary events and politics etc. - were being made. All this created a vibrant industry atmosphere that encouraged experimentation with daring themes, introduction of new techniques and technologies, and the entry of more and more new talents: scenarists, directors and technicians, as well as producers. (...) Entering the scene at such a high point in Malayalam film industry, a hardworking actor like Mammootty had ample opportunities to hone his skills, connect with the audience, and to entrench himself as a star in the industry and as an actor in popular imagination. In his first decade itself, Mammootty had the opportunity to work with all the important filmmakers from different generations, and in diverse categories and genres. (...) So much so that in the very first decade of his entry, he had acted in more than 200 films in all conceivable genres - socials, family dramas, mystery thrillers, ghost stories, period films, art films, and also some light comedies. By the end of the decade, he had established himself as a very dependable and successful star with an acting style of his own.

Even in the 1990s when the entry of television rocked the film industry by capturing its most favourite and popular thematic terrains, and hitting the box office by bringing visual entertainment to the audiences' homes, the popularity and stardom of Mammootty continued to grow. Actually, in the case of both Mammootty and Mohanlal the coming of television was a blessing in disguise. Though television captured the most important segment of the movie market - the 'family audience', as far as its entertainment content was concerned, it predominantly depended on cinema for its films, songs, comedy scenes, clips and the umpteen parodies based on that. (...) The burgeoning popularity of Mammootty as an actor and his pre-eminence within the industry are evident from the fact that he acted in as many as 220 films in the 1980's. From 1983 to 1986, he acted in about 35 films every year! In the next decades, along with the general decline in film production, Mammootty films also came down to an average of around 55 films a year. It was also a period when production, turnover and also the number of theatres were on the wane. If the 1990s saw a more mature Mammootty performing with greater ease and in a variety of roles, in the post-millennium years his persona has assumed greater gravitas and grace. A host of young 'newgen' actors were entering the field in the last decades, and superstars like Mammootty and Mohanlal becoming more selective in their choice of roles and films, and so, figuring mostly in mega productions. But even in the so-called 'newgen' films one can see the glare and shadows of these super stars - in the form of references, tributes, jokes, imitations or parodies. (...)

Evolution of an actor 

(...) In most of the films, (...) one can see both these character-types and role models - that of the protector of the weak and women, and as the enforcer of Law - being elaborated in various guises, diverse situations and different milieus. (...) In many of the (...) films in the 80's, Mammootty plays the role of the family man who is caught in domestic and marital conflicts of different kinds (...) strengthening Mammootty's fan base among the female audience. (...) Soon, too many films of the same genre led to a series of box office failures. (...) By the end of 1980s and the beginning of 1990s, we see the actor persona of Mammootty strongly leaning towards hyper-masculine roles, with a slew of commercially successful and thematically engaging films. (...) These films expanded and placed Mammootty on to a wider canvas of narratives that portrayed different and more complex shades of masculine power and conflicts. Compared to earlier films, the narrative world of these macho protagonists expanded from the realm of the individual and the family, to that of society and nation at large, and the paternal/protector figure turned into an authority figure representing the State. These narratives traversed history and legends, and were animated by various shades of desire, valor, love and troubling questions about corruption in public life and crime. These varied roles successfully combined Mammootty's stature as an actor and appeal as a star. What distinguished Mammootty the actor was his continuing engagements with films outside the commercial-mainstream that constantly enriched and expanded his repertoire, and brought him critical acclaim and national accolades. (...) Though not very comfortable in his comic roles, Mammootty also experimented with light comedies. (...) Another feature that distinguishes Mammootty is his ability to embody and voice 'regionalities'. There are several hit films where he plays the role of a hero belonging to a particular locality/region/milieu, and speaks the respective local lingo. (...) While elevating him as a versatile actor, these roles also indicate the pan-Kerala image that he has built up through his career. (...)

Mammootty-Mohanlal duo and the Ambivalence of Malayalee Masculinity

It is impossible to talk about Mammootty and his acting career without referring to Mohanlal, the other super star, his friend, competitor and his alter ego. (...) One, the upright, powerful, masculine and monogamous family man, and the other the playful, eternal flirt and boy next door, vulnerable, polygamous, lyrical and romantic. While one readily sings and dances around trees, the other is averse to it. (...) Such strange equivalence could be read as the expression of the ambivalence in Malayalee male masculinity - one that is torn between the macho and the tender, the masculine and the feminine, the strong and the vulnerable, the rigid and the flexible, the tragic and the comic. Incapable of making any final choice between the two, Malayalee masculine imagination seems to waver between the two, consciously and subconsciously, and indulges in the possibilities and diverse pleasures they open up through these star-duo. (...) As a lone, masculine hero, age and aging go much more comfortably or convincingly with Mammootty whereas with Mohanlal it often looks odd or a little forced, for we always associate him with youthhood, playfulness, and often childlikeness. (...) While Mammootty roles are more often associated with seats of power and authority, (...) Mohanlal plays the common man, the one who is in search of security, life, freedom and love. (...) While the concern of one is to control and conquer the world, the other explores and revels in all its uncertainties and accidents. So, while one offers love and invites our identification, we are in awe of the other and look up to him in admiration. While one is a companion and fellow prankster, the other is a protector or guide. (...)

The Star Persona

(...) In the last decades, stories about loss of masculinity itself becomes a theme in some films. (...) Interestingly, they all tangentially tap on to the Mammootty persona deeply embedded in public minds to poignant effect. So through time, Mammootty persona has not only embodied and enacted masculine charm, power, desires and fantasies, but also its fears, anxieties and uncertainties. Another makeover domain was visible in the new millennium, when Mammootty played several light and comic roles. (...) The incisive self-criticism he expresses in many of his acclaimed interviews prove his commitment to the art and also his relentless effort to reinvent himself. This is also a unique feature that elevates him from other actors of his generation, who tend to get pigeon-holed into certain stereotypes, industry models or generic patterns. As an actor and a star, Mammootty had always tried to transgress these boundaries and to redefine and remake himself. Which is what has always kept him at the top, for so long and for so many'.

Sanjay Leela Bhansali: 25 anni di carriera

In occasione dei 25 anni di carriera di Sanjay Leela Bhansali, vi segnalo il video ufficiale celebrativo, nonché l'articolo A tour through Sanjay Leela Bhansali's cities of dreams, di Baradwaj Rangan, pubblicato ieri da Film Companion:

'The masochistic unattainability of love by at least one of the vertices of the triangle is something that's always watered this director's imagination. (...) I do not think Bhansali has ever entered the modern era, or even the real world. (...) Even if the places "look" real, they are cities of dreams, cities you won't find in any map of the world because they exist only in Bhansali's imagination. (...) 

It took a while for this Bhansali to bloom. His first two films aren't his. (...) He's trying (...) to get those images from inside his head onto the frame that the audience will see them in, but keeps failing, and failing. (...) These two films had too much generic melodrama, and it's only when we come to Devdas that we finally get inspired melodrama: in this sado-masochistic (...) story, Bhansali finds the pitch on screen to match the pitch he's been hearing inside his head. (...) Devdas is the first real Sanjay Leela Bhansali movie. (...)

It's not just the writing, but also the way he uses colour that singles him out. (...) Bhansali's dream worlds require dream logic. (...) In a Hindi cinema landscape littered with filmmakers who write in English and quote English filmmakers as inspiration, Bhansali is one of the last of the traditionalists. His "madness", if you will, reflects the emotion-filled Indian nature. (...) 

It's not that every film of Bhansali's, post-Devdas, has been successful in its entirety. But he is one of the handful of original, homegrown Indian filmmakers who can be counted on to give us at least 10-20 scenes (even in the lesser films) that sear themselves into memory. (...) His love for artifice and theatricality, his love for Indian music and Indian folk arts and Indian movie-making traditions, (...) his love for beauty and symmetry. But this beauty isn't just empty prettiness. (...) At his best, no one comes close to the mix of the real and the unreal that Bhansali unleashes on the big screen. (...) It's a style. And no one does it better'.

What early Indian sci-fi looked like

Vi segnalo l'articolo Videochats on the Moon, immortality pills: what early Indian sci-fi looked like, di Gayle Sequeira e Ashutosh Mohan, pubblicato da Film Companion il 27 marzo 2021:

'More than meets the eye: early films about invisibility

Most of Bollywood's first few sci-fi outings revolved around the limitless potential that invisibility could unlock for a single person, and the unintended consequences that could follow. Nanabhai Bhatt's Mr. X (1957), considered to be the first Indian science-fiction film, follows a lab assistant who accidentally drinks an invisibility potion. Bad news: there's no antidote that will make him reappear. When there's a spate of crimes in the city, he's the obvious suspect and must prove his innocence. In Mr. X in Bombay (1964), the protagonist gets his hands on an invisibility potion and uses it to solve a problem more pressing than world hunger - his lack of a love life. (...) In 1965 film Aadhi Raat Ke Baad (...) director Nanabhai Bhatt (...) attempts to answer one question: how much harder would it be to solve a murder mystery if the main suspect could turn invisible at will? (...) It's a plot similar to Bhatt's earlier vanishing man film Mr. X. These early films adopted a myopic attitude towards invisibility, with the protagonists often using their newfound powers for selfish reasons rather than the greater good. It took till 1971 for invisibility to serve more altruistic purposes. In K. Ramanlal's Elaan. (...) Mr. India (1987), [is] the first mainstream Bollywood sci-fi film. (...) Another film (...) explored the more nefarious consequences of scientific advancement. In Mr. X [1984], written and directed by Khwaja Ahmad Abbas. (...) In Malayalam film Jaithra Yaathra (1987) (...) invisibility is used to create chaos and for comic ends. (...) Invisibility, unlike immortality, appears to excite no moral questions. A person who lives forever can probably cause a lot of harm, but how bad can a brief disappearance be?

A whole new world: sci-fi set in space

Director A. Kasilingam's Kalai Arasi (1963) has aliens from another galaxy visit Earth and Mohan (M.G. Ramachandran) follow them back to their home. They look like us except for their sartorial preferences. They like tight shorts and safari helmets. Their spaceship has a distinct steampunk sensibility - levers and crankshafts everywhere. You even hear the periodic puff of escaping steam that apparently powers its cross-galaxy travel. (...) There is, however, one fundamental difference between us and them: the aliens are lovers of art to a fault. They've come to abduct talented artists from Earth and make them better ones. Their spaceship has a tiny screen that's a precursor to Google Earth. (...) What's surprising, especially since this is the first science-fiction film in Tamil, is how people react to a UFO. Mohan is with his friends when a spaceship flies overhead. He practically yawns an explanation, saying that experts believe that aliens from other galaxies would visit Earth at some point in time. His blasé friends are instantly convinced, feeling as much awe upon seeing a spaceship as an odd-looking cow. (...) Hindi film Chand Par Chadayee (1967) released two years before the first manned mission to the Moon, which is perhaps what emboldened director T.P. Sundaram to take creative liberties with the subject. (...) For a film that includes ridiculous scenes such as (...) parachute-wearing Moon women dancing above the clouds, the film was astonishingly prescient in terms of technological advancements. A high-ranking Moon citizen and the king of Mars videochat, and even communicate through a Google Glass-like device in which a real-time video of the caller appears on the lens of a pair of sunglasses. (...) The same year as Chand Par Chadayee's release, Martians visited Earth in Nisar Ahmad Ansari's Wahan Ke Log. (...)

Caution, side effects: medical science-fiction

Just as the vastness of space can be liberating, so can the invention of certain drugs that give their users powers. In P. Subramaniam's Malayalam classic Karutha Rathrikal (1967), the soft-spoken Santhan (Madhu) invents a drug that changes his appearance and gives him the ability to kill people. He's unable to make an antidote (perhaps, because of impure ingredients) which leads to his own death. An adaptation of R.L. Stevenson's Strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, KR has an ambivalent stance towards the morality of science. We don't actually see much science, except in a comedy track that explains the concept of an antidote. The idea of an antidote becomes extraordinarily important in this subgenre, in which a scientist (typically out of hubris) invents a drug that gives him superpowers. In Naalai Manithan (1989) [tamil] the fate of the world hangs on Dr. Shankar (Jaishankar). After winning the Nobel Prize for inventing an AIDS drug, he creates another one that wakes the dead. Shankar's hubris prevents him from acknowledging the side effects of his immortality pill: violent and anti-social behaviour. Just as in Karutha Rathrikal, a scientist's individual choices shape how science plays out. By taking moral responsibility for his out-of-control inventions, the scientist ends up as the villain in these films. Both Santhan from KR and Shankar from NM die as a result of pushing the limits of human potential. This, however, isn't the case for the Professor (Anant Nag) from Kannada film Hollywood (2002), which claims to be India's first robot film. If the Professor's humanoid robot US-47 goes rogue, it's the robots fault, not his. (...) The Professor simply dismantles the malfunctioning robot. A rogue invention is only a technical problem, not a moral one. The film doesn't ask, like Naalai Manithan does, whether science leads to progress. Why embargo an invention when you could simply dismantle if it's not useful? Not quite human, not quite machine is the vehicle at the center of Ajantrik (1958), considered to be one of the earliest Bengali sci-fi movies. Director Ritwik Ghatak explores the relationship between a small-town driver, Bimal (Kali Banerjee) and his battered taxi by humanizing the vehicle through a combination of visual and sound effects. (...) Is the taxi sentient, or is Bimal projecting his emotions onto it?

Back to the future: films about time travel

In Aditya 369 [1991, telugu], written and directed by Singeetam Srinivasa Rao, Professor Ramdas (Tinnu Anand) (...) invents a time machine. (...) What's interesting is when he [Nandamuri Balakrishna's Krisha Kumar] ends up in an apocalyptic-looking 2504 AD. We see a post-World War 3 Earth, where a radiation from nuclear weapons has made the surface unfit for living. It's practically a desert, and humans live underground in hermetic forts. (...) 'Stomach computers' tell people when to eat. But (...) this isn't interpreted cynically. (...) People in 2504 AD are merely amused that their lives are run by machines.

Science fiction is still an underserved genre in our films. Films like Rahul Sadasivan's Red Rain (2013) [malayalam] explore the instinctive terror we feel for something from beyond Earth, but recent films have continued earlier templates, with a bit more realism. Arati Kadav's Cargo (2019), Tik Tik Tik (2018) [tamil] and Antariksham 9000KMPH (2018) [telugu] are space operas but the science is believable. Fifty years after Karutha Rathrikal, Maayavan (2017) [tamil] explores the question of who we really are if we swap brains with someone else. 24 (2016) [tamil] and Indru Netru Naalai (2015) [tamil] are entertaining time travel films that take us to the past and, hesitantly, to the future of science fiction films'.

Q & Ray

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa dal regista Q a Sankhayan Ghosh, pubblicata da Film Companion il 23 gennaio 2021. Q & Ray:

'It's scary to talk to Q - you don't know when you might rub him the wrong way. Besides, is there anything he likes? (...) Or is there anyone who likes his films? Even though 'like' is hardly a word you use when you talk about Q, whose works are designed to make you uncomfortable. (...) This power to offend extends beyond Q's cinema, to his views, one of which is his utter dislike for Satyajit Ray. (...) Now in a twist stranger than meta-fiction, Q is playing Ray. In (...) Abhijaan, a film about the life and work of Soumitra Chatterjee, Ray's favourite leading man, (...) we see Q as Ray, letting his future Apu know that he is too tall to be in Aparajito. He is wearing white pajama-punjabi - something Ray would often wear, and Q never - holding a cigarette and striking that pose as a framed photograph of Tagore hangs in the background. Has there been a more seamless merging of icon and iconoclast? (...) Q (...) lives in Goa, where he's (...) part of the alternative scene. (...) 

Your dislike for Ray is well-known. What's really interesting is that now you are playing Ray, in what must be the first time anybody is playing him on screen.

Well, the first person who told me about the resemblance was Rituparno Ghosh. And it was a very lively chat that we'd had after that, (...) about the resemblance and the general perceptions about image, since we were both image makers. He was also very interested in alternative image making, because, obviously, he is a precursor of all this. So while for instance I never liked Rituparno Ghosh's films, I am sure he didn't like mine. He was very clear at the beginning of the meeting that we are not going to talk about that. And then we proceeded to having a very nice chat.

I would've liked to be a fly on the wall during that chat.

It was a really insane chat because we were (...) hanging out in gay bars in Munich and stuff like that. It was a really cool chat. (...) Like everyone else, I grew up with Satyajit Ray and one of the key things I like about him is his calligraphy. I mean, as a designer I feel he did a lot of work that is far beyond his cinema. That's my perspective. My dislike or my problem is with his films. And he would have the same for mine. Because we are coming from totally different spaces in terms of filmmaking, or making visual narrative. (...) There was an occasion 4-5 years back when someone else had asked me to play Ray in a movie. That movie never got made. But I was in character for a month. And I took that quite seriously. These kind of opportunities are very interesting because you're thinking of image and what it could do. Alternative thoughts, or alternatives. They had some look tests and stuff. Few people who were also on that team got in the production team of the new film as well. And this was something that might have prompted them to think of me. (...)

Were you able to put your dislike aside while playing the character?

Yeah yeah, absolutely. Because then I am an actor (...) not Q the director. When I'm rapping I'm not Q the director. (...) Now I'm Satyajit Ray. An actor has a great advantage that they can hop characters like that. Performers have the best job actually and I'm always trying to, like an imposter, get in and do something - with music, with acting, whenever I can. For instance I've done a fairly major character in a Bejoy Nambiar film, (...) as a villain who was beating up Dulquer Salmaan. Because Bejoy knew I could do some shit like that. But no casting director will cast me, obviously, because they don't know me. Everyone assumes I have a certain kind of character based on a public persona, whatever that might be. (Laughs). And that's constantly being manipulated by me. 

What was your approach to playing Ray? Did you pick up mannerisms and body language and style of smoking and things like that?

Totally. Because it was a period piece, a biopic, I had to. I got myself into that mode. Because otherwise we are extreme polar opposites in terms of how we speak, hold ourselves, and it was a different time. So people used to behave different physically. So that was great fun. I love that process, that I can be someone else.

What are the things you picked up from Ray's persona?

One of the major problems was cigarettes, because I don't smoke cigarettes. So I was continuously smoking and smokers are different people. They hold their hands very differently. When you smoke joints you don't do that. So that and the fact that I would be in those costumes for a long time and trying to be comfortable even in the jangia (underwear). (...)

What's the kind of material you looked into?

I didn't have to, thankfully, watch all his films. I had to watch films made on him. And whatever footage I could get. I surrounded myself with those images. That's the kind of route I took, not the emotional part. The thing was to place the sense of humour, because he had a keen sense of humour. (...)

Is this you trying to be more open? Would you have done it 10 years ago?

Yeah yeah. (...) I don't think the point is that. I am anti his films, and that time, and how that time influences us right now as Bengalis. And is limiting us severely. That's what I dislike. (...) Satyajit Ray (...) is a bourgeoise upper class filmmaker. My politics doesn't allow me to appreciate his films. (...)

Do you not find anything to appreciate in his films?

Films take up a long time. You have to give it 2-3 hours of your life. I would rather watch something made by somebody I like'.

Hip Hop and the Kerala connect

Vi segnalo l'articolo Hip Hop and the Kerala connect: How a new breed of rappers is using the genre to speak of our reality, pubblicato lo scorso 23 dicembre da Film Companion:

'June was a particularly vulnerable time for everyone due to the COVID-19 lockdown, but Neeraj Madhav decided to do something about it - he released the catchy single Panipaali. A newbie to the hip hop scene, Neeraj rapped about boredom, playing ludo, craving for someone who'd sing him to sleep. The lyrics were relatable, and the beats addictive. (...)

The hip hop scene in Kerala has been around since the 90s. (...) In 2009, Rjv Ernesto, also known as Pakarcha Vyadhi formed Street Academics, the first hip hop collective in Kerala. He mooted an idea to form a hip hop group for spoken word poetry and making pause tapes, critical for the evolution of rap. The group initially rapped over beats, and after rapper Azuran joined them, they began to develop underground musical rap. The group also became more flexible with the addition of new members - currently it has six members. (...) Here are some songs you could catch up on. (...)

Chatha Kaakka - Street Academics

Street Academic's first EP had six songs, Chatha Kaakka being the most popular even to this day. CK literally translates to a dead crow, which is a commentary on society's treatment of people who are less privileged. (...) The song is observational and experiential, but if one digs deeper, it's also about the life of those underprivileged. (...)

Voice of the Voiceless - Vedan

Vedan doesn't mince words. In his first single Voice of the Voiceless, he's truthful about the discrimination he and others have faced because of their colour and caste. (...) The music lifts the rage of the rap. The song showcases the anger on everyone who has influenced this discrimination towards those who are different.

Lokam Mayakathilo e Kariveppila Akkiyo - Fejo

A native of Kochi, Fejo has been rapping since 2009. His collaboration with contemporaries Achayan and Blesslee resulted in Lokam Mayakathilo. (...) Kariveppila Akkiyo is another favourite of Fejo. The title literally translates to 'Did you make me a curry leaf?'. (...)

Avastha - ThirumaLi

ThirumaLi is a 25 year old rapper from Kottayam and has been rapping since 2013. His song Avastha is an ironic take on the times we live in - moral policing, social media validation and educated fools. (...)

Aliya - Kaanthari

Kaanthari's second single Aliya is a coming-of-age song about self-awareness in a flawed society. While having a discussion with friends, a man comments - (...) (girls who drink are of loose morals), and that flusters Aliya. She looks into herself and the society's demeanour towards young women for their choices. (...)

Jaagratha - Thakazhi (...)

This is Thakazhi's first single, released during the early days of quarantine with a message of hope and awareness about the virus. (...)

Ennilerinju - RZee e Sithara

Ennilerinju from Vineeth Sreenivasan's Jacobinte Swargarajyam is composed by Shaan Rahman. Sung by RZee and Sithara, the song is refreshing and fast paced. (...)

Minni - V3K e ThirumaLi

V3K is an electronic music composer and collaborated with ThirumaLi for Minni, one of the tracks from his latest EP. He fuses three unusual genres - folk, electronic and rap with ease. (...)

Kalippava - 2XB

2XB is one of the rappers from Malabar Hip Hop Movement, which aims to promote the culture in Northern Kerala. Kalippava, his second single is about (...) victims of police brutality over the world. 2XB comments on the system, and also raps effortlessly in Tamil'.

Fahadh Faasil: Make your directors fall in love with you

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa dal talentuosissimo Fahadh Faasil ad Anupama Chopra e a Baradwaj Rangan, pubblicata ieri da Film Companion. Make your directors fall in love with you; you'll never run out of content: Fahadh Faasil:

'AC: It has taken us eight months to get you here.

I think it's because I feel incomplete about my films. I don't know when the right time to talk about them is. I usually talk about them only after a year when I have actually realised what I tried to do and what I achieved. When we start shooting I think, 'Is this how it is supposed to be?', 'Is this right?' or 'Is this how it is in the script?'. And after release, I'm thinking 'Did I get it right?' I always go through that cycle in my head for all my films and that's why I'm always absent from promotions.

AC: You just shot See you soon with Mahesh Narayanan. And you mentioned that this is not a feature film and it is kind of an experiment. 

I met Mahesh 10 years ago when I moved to Kochi. When we eventually decided to do Take off, we knew it wasn't the first film we wanted to do together. But I had to be there for him. That is how Take off, and then Malik happened and then we decided to do an even bigger film and then the lockdown happened. Then, he came up with this idea that we can eventually redesign a film on the editing table. He said he needed three actors who need not be together, it could happen over phone and video and things like that. I thought it was crazy but I did a test shoot for a day and told him to capture the portions with the other actors. (...) When he came back with a rough edit, I knew I wanted to be part of the film. I told him to not worry about the theatrical release or money and to just shoot it.

BR: When Irrfan Khan passed away, you wrote a deeply moving note where you said 'I owe my acting career to him. I don't think I would have come this far in my career had I not picked up that DVD and watched that film'. Which DVD was it and what time in your life were you in when you watched that film and how did it help your acting?

It's a film directed by Naseeruddin Shah called Yun Hota Toh Kya Hota. I saw it in 2005 and it was my third year in America. That was the first time I saw Irrfan on screen and he didn't look like an actor to me. I couldn't stop looking at him, even when other actors came on screen. He looked so graceful. I kept looking at his feet to check whether his feet were on the floor, he seemed to be always floating. No one has made that kind of an impression on me. (...)

AC: In the few interviews you have given, you've mentioned that you don't prep for a role. What is the Fahadh Faasil process? (...)

I think my prep is to costantly interact with my writer and director and DOP on the sets. I never finish my films on schedule because, for me, the filming process takes a lot of time. (...) The prep I do is that I keep interacting. I never stop questioning. (...) I might have a one-liner. Most of the time, we have the climax. We know this is how we want to conclude (...) and that changes like five days into the shoot. I think the drive to shoot is to achieve what we initially thought or the fire we had for the initial idea. So, once we capture that, then that's when things start growing. It's difficult but it is very interesting and I love it. (...) I rarely walk in to sets prepared. The moment I have to prepare, I think I will collapse. When I work in Tamil, the biggest problem is that I don't think in Tamil. I go there and read the script and then translate it into my language and then learn the lines. That process is not easy for me. I want to do a Tamil or Hindi film and speak in Malayalam (laughs).

AC: Is it true that when you shot Take off with Parvathy, you asked her how her character's signature would be? How does a detail like that affect what you are doing? (...)

What fascinated me was that after she read the script, she was talking like Sameera, thinking like Sameera, and we were on sets and I was not able to get it right. So, I tried talking to her and at that time she was fiddling with a pen and then I told her to just sign Sameera, and the way she signed was very vulnerable. (...) Something about it looked vulnerable to me and that is where I picked it from. (...) These are actually very small things that nobody really notices. (...)

AC: Is it true that you take two days to get into character and you request your director to reshoot the first two days later?

Yeah. My first two days are exercise. I never get them right. (...) All my films we have actually gone back and shot the first two days. (...)

AC: Is acting stressful for you or do you find joy in it? And, how do you deal with films that don't do well?

I believe I have become a better human being once I started acting and started taking it seriously, because that is when I started thinking about others. When a film goes wrong, what actually goes wrong is your thought process and what you have been thinking for the last two or three years. (...) That is very difficult to accept for me. I actually get into a defensive mode and I try to explain, 'This is what I tried'. (...) Because I was wrong, the film went wrong and I usually accept that. But that phase is very difficult for me. I usually take time to come out of it. I come out of it when I find something else to be excited about.

BR: [Thiagarajan] Kumararaja said that you knew only three Tamil words and he was completely amazed that you did the dubbing for the film with all emotions intact. He spoke about it as if he had almost sighted a UFO. How do you do that, especially in a language you don't know?

I have to give it to Kumar. I was very sceptical about it. I wanted to do a film with Kumar, but I wanted it to be in Malayalam, to be honest. I actually went to Kumar five years ago, even before he started thinking about Super Deluxe, and told him 'Let's do a film in Malayalam', and I got him all the way to Kochi, but it didn't work out and he went back to Chennai. Then, he called me for Super Deluxe. I was very sceptical, because if you do this film with a person who can think and speak in Tamil, you can do wonders with the character, so I kept pushing him to do it with another actor, but he was adamant and kept saying that it was just language. One thing I realised when I was doing the film is that I started speaking in Tamil. If I spend time there, I'll get used to the language, that is what I realised. The thing about Tamil is that it is a very beautiful language and to learn it by rote is very easy. It's like learning a song. (...)

AC: Which role took the most out of you?

All the roles. (...) It is amazing to get people to react to your emotions or smile at you. And I discovered this much later in my life. I was not ready to be an actor or anything, and I am a person who tasted success much too late in my career and once I tasted it, the entire connection became very beautiful. So, for me, it is very important to feel for the character and the story. I need to believe that this is something that could happen or that has happened and I need to feel the connection to that story or plot.

BR: Your father launched you, things didn't work out, you took a break of eight years and came back. What was your frame of mind at that point?

After my first film didn't do well and I decided to go to the US, I had this conversation with my father. My father introduced Mohanlal. So when I spoke to him, he told me that I have an acting rhythm and that if I was actually planning to take up acting, I should do it in a way that it is happening from my stomach and not from my brain, and that was a very interesting advice. It is about how you see things and how you want to see things. So, I want to feel for the character and then emote. (...) I turned 19 during the shoot. To be honest, if that film had worked, I don't think I would have come this far. I would have been a star for 10 years and then I don't know what would have happened. Because the film didn't work, at least I am trying to be an actor, and that makes a huge difference.

AC: Fahadh, I loved the fact that Nazriya [Nazim, moglie di Fahadh] proposed to you on the sets of Bangalore Days. Please tell us that story.

Yeah, there is another side to it, but okay (laughs). It was new for me to see a girl that wasn't excited about meeting Fahadh Faasil. I had to do things to get her attention and I think I fell in love with that. I would walk into sets and the first thing I would want to see is if she was looking at me. So, I took initiative but she asked me out because she knew that I didn't have the guts to ask her. The two good things that I did after coming into cinema is getting married to an actress and starting a production house. (...)

AC: Now that you have gone to Tamil, would you be interested in Hindi, perhaps?

For me, the fact that my Malayalam films are watched in Mumbai, and that I get these messages and beautiful calls from people in the same industry is itself a big thing. (...) None of my films are made into any other language, because they are very rooted. My cinema is here. I would love to interact with Meghna Gulzar and Zoya Akhtar. There are so many brilliant directors that I'd love to work with, and there are so many films that are so good. If you ask me, Piku was the best film to have released in the last decade. I absolutely love it, the performances and the way it is made. (...)

BR: Speaking of Kumararaja, did he actually make you do 200 takes?

That's his average. With me, it has gone to 500-550 shots and what is interesting is I know I would have done around 60-65 takes for him and he would come and say that 'In the 17th take the look was perfect but in the 12th take, I liked the rendering, but as a whole I liked the 35th take'.'

The short-lived glory of Satyajit Ray's Sci-Fi Cine Club

[Archivio] Ma com'è che mi era sfuggito questo incredibile articolo di Sankhayan Ghosh? Pubblicato il 9 maggio 2018 da Film Companion, rivela un aspetto segreto e sorprendente (almeno per me) di Satyajit Ray, maestro del neorealismo indiano: il suo amore per la fantascienza. The short-lived glory of Satyajit Ray's Sci-Fi Cine Club:

'The SF Cine Club in Calcutta began its journey with much fanfare. The kind of attention unimaginable for a film club in India, let alone one that called itself 'a club of devotees of Science-fiction and Fantasy films'. Walt Disney, from Disney Land, California, wrote a congratulatory letter; the Prime Minister and President sent encouraging messages; sci-fi literary legends like Arthur C. Clarke (...) and Ray Bradbury (...) sent their best wishes. The Press Trust of India carried a report, it was in the city's leading papers and the news segment in the radio the next morning. In the inauguration ceremony, on 26 January, 1966, people queued up in the portico of the Academy of Fine Arts, to collect their membership cards - at an annual membership of Rs 6. (...)

Brochures and souvenirs were handed out. All design-related work, from the hand-drawn insignia of the club, to conceptualising the cover design of the brochure, to selecting the type of font, was done by Satyajit Ray, whose feted masterpieces (...) had by then established him as one of the greatest filmmakers in the world, and who was a life-long fan of science-fiction and fantasy. Some of the first stories Ray ever wrote were science-fiction. (...) Ray (...) was the President of the SF Cine Club. "A science-fiction addict for close to thirty years," he wrote in the brochure, "the SF Cine Club may very well be one of the first of its kind - here or abroad". It was the same year that Ray went to Hollywood to pitch his sci-fi script, the ill-fated The Alien. But that's another story, a comprehensive account of which is given in Travails with the Alien by Satyajit Ray: The Film that was never made and other Adventures with Science Fiction, the new book by HarperCollins India - which also features previously unpublished memorabilia of the SF Cine Club. (...) Ray, not new to the workings of a film club (he had co-founded the first film society of independent India in 1947), curated the screenings. (...) 

The film club was the product of the efforts of a group of sci-fi crusaders in Bengal in the '60s. It was led by Adrish Bardhan, its secretary, who had approached Ray with the idea. Bengali sci-fi writer Premendra Mitra was the Vice President. Bardhan (...) had been running Aschorjo, the little magazine dedicated to Bengali sci-fi by local authors, from a room in his ancestral house on 97/1 Serpentine Lane (which would also double as the office for the cine club) since 1963. Ray was the magazine's chief patron and contributor, and together they started producing sci-fi radio plays. (...) Bardhan, in the editorial of 1966 February issue of Aschorjo, wrote, "A Monthly magazine, radio and cinema: these 3 paths now will forge the victory of sci-fi." The issue carried an extensive coverage of the inaugural ceremony; a detailed synopsis of the SF Cine Club's next screening would appear in the last section of Aschorjo - which has been archived by the members of Kalpabiswa - a Bengali sci-fi/fantasy webzine. Many of the stories of the cine club are recounted by Ranen Ghosh, an acolyte of Bardhan, in a Norwegian journal about the sci-fi 'movement' in Bengal, that was published last year. He was an integral part of three bengali sci-fi magazines, which came one after the other, Aschorjo, Bishmoy and Fantastic. Ghosh often wrote stories with multiple aliases, taking names of family members. He is one of the few active members of the cine club who is alive. 

How did the seemingly successful SF Cine Club lose its steam so abruptly, and shut down in 1969, 3 years after it had started? Ray got busier. (...) And Bardhan had his own battles to fight - Aschorjo was in financial trouble, and his wife fell sick. "I think Ray also lost interest in it after a point. Otherwise, he would have managed to keep it running," says Ghosh. The audience, he says, also started dwindling. Many members who weren't accustomed to watching English-language films, wouldn't be able to grasp the films. (...) The problems were identified, discussed in the meetings (which Ray didn't have the time to attend), but never addressed'. 

A proposito del volume Travails with the Alien, nel sito di HarperCollins Publishers si legge: 

'Satyajit Ray was a master of science fiction writing. Through his Professor Shonku stories and other fiction and non-fiction pieces, he explored the genre from various angles. In the 1960s, Ray wrote a screenplay for what would have been the first-of-its-kind sci-fi film to be made in India. It was called The Alien and was based on his own short story "Bonkubabur Bandhu". On being prompted by Arthur C. Clarke, who found the screenplay promising, Ray sent the script to Columbia Pictures in Hollywood, who agreed to back it, and Peter Sellers was approached to play a prominent role. Then started the "Ordeals of the Alien" as Ray calls it, as even after a series of trips to the US, UK and France, the film was never made, and more shockingly, some fifteen years later, Ray watched Steven Spielberg's film Close Encounters of the Third Kind and later E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, and realized these bore uncanny resemblances to his script The Alien, including the way the ET was designed! A slice of hitherto undocumented cinema history, Travails with the Alien includes Ray's detailed essay on the project with the full script of The Alien, as well as the original short story on which the screenplay was based. These, presented alongside correspondence between Ray and Peter Sellers, Arthur C. Clarke, Marlon Brando, Hollywood producers who showed interest, and a fascinating essay by the young student at Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism who broke the Spielberg story, make this book a rare and compelling read on science fiction, cinema and the art of adaptation'.

A brief history of Bella Ciao

Vi segnalo l'articolo A brief history of Bella Ciao (the song Shah Rukh Khan is so sick of) di Sankhayan Ghosh, pubblicato oggi da Film Companion:

'I heard it [Bella Ciao] (...) in the various Indian iterations, during the CAA/NRC protests [proteste contro il Citizenship Amendment Act]. In the #OccupyGateway gathering, one of the protestors stood and sang the new lyrics, written to fit the issue at hand, (...) and the others, seated, sang after him. (...)

Unsurprisingly, I am hearing Bella Ciao more and more without the context. Baba Sehgal has done one, called Kela Khao, so silly that you can't be offended by it. Ayushmann (...) Khurrana plays the tune on his piano. (...) Actress Kriti Kharbanda also attempted a piano cover and uploaded a video. (...) 

Then you had Shah Rukh Khan. (...) In his segment shot from home for a fundraising concert for the COVID-19 outbreak, Khan sang that he is sick of hearing Bella Ciao. (...) He meant it as one of the typically Quarantine things, equating it to activities such as working out and watching TV shows on streaming. Given the significance of the song - a symbol of common people speaking up against an oppressive regime - this appeared insensitive to some. (...) The lyrics for Khan were written by Badshah. (...)

Bollywood has been guilty of bastardising Bella Ciao even before it had become so popular in this part of the world. Lalit Pandit (of Jatin-Lalit) plagiarised the tune in "Love ki Ghanti" from the movie Besharam, starring Ranbir Kapoor. There is also a Telugu song called "Pilla Chao" from the Mahesh Babu film Businessman. They are cringeworthy'.

Video Wapas Jao (Bella Ciao Hindi Version), Poojan Sahil featuring CAA-NRC Protests, 23 dicembre 2019

Video Bella Ciao Hindi at #OccupyGateway #MumbaiWithJNU, 6 gennaio 2020

Video Bella Ciao piano cover by Ayushmann Khurrana & Kriti Kharbanda, 2 maggio 2020

(Non riesco a scovare in rete il video della versione interpretata da Shah Rukh Khan).

Aggiornamento del 26 agosto 2021: Netflix India propone Jaldi Aao!, versione di Bella Ciao rivisitata dal produttore musicale Nucleya e interpretata, fra gli altri, da Shruti Haasan, Anil Kapoor, Rana Daggubati, Radhika Apte e Vikrant Massey. Il video è stato realizzato per promuovere la quinta stagione della serie La casa di carta. Oggi The Hindu pubblica un'intervista concessa da Nucleya:

 

'Nucleya is all smiles as he gushes over Jaldi Aao: The Money Heist Fan Anthem, which he composed ahead of the new season of Spanish-language crime series La Casa De Papel or Money Heist dropping. The track and video (...) has picked up more than 5 million views since its August 23 upload on YouTube. (...) The anti-fascist protest song is from the early 20th Century, and is sung by Italians every year on April 25 to observe Liberation Day, the anniversary of the end of the Nazi occupation in 1945. Over the years through history, there have been many iterations. During the 2020 lockdowns, Italians took to the empty streets and their balconies, belting out the song as a collective and comforting experience, building upon its status as a revolutionary anthem. (...) It was important to Nucleya that Jaldi Aao retained that recognisable melody while adding various elements to it to make it more Indian audience-friendly. “That composition has that [revolutionary] feel to it because of the original song’s lyrics, but we wanted it to sound fresh. I think we did a pretty good job,” he laughs. (...) The rebooted song has a mix of Tamil, Hindi and Telugu lyrics and singing styles to suit the different Indian regional fanbases. As a composer, the core melody had to work with these new elements to make the song feel less forced. Nucleya explains, “The core structure and melody stay the same throughout but what changes is the voice, which gives Jaldi Aao the flavour it needs. For example, at the Tamil part, everything goes deeper with full South Indian drums, and towards the end of the video, there’s a scene where drums are played in the streets of Mumbai and it feels very Maharashtrian. The melody, though, stitches everything tight together”.'

Arati Kadav on taking her indie space film Cargo to the SXSW Film Festival

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa dalla regista Arati Kadav a Suchin Mehrotra, pubblicata ieri da Film Companion. Arati Kadav on taking her indie space film Cargo to the SXSW Film Festival:

'[Cargo], which world premiered at the Jio MAMI Film Festival with Star last year, stars Vikrant Massey and Shweta Tripathi. A deceptively fascinating examination of connection and isolation, it follows a male astronaut with the morbid job of helping the recently deceased pass on to what's next, until a female astronaut is sent to assist him.

Cargo has such an inventive and innovative premise. Where did this concept come from?

I've been working in the sci-fi space for half a decade now and before Cargo I'd written a few sci-fi screenplays, so I was very sure this was the space I wanted to be in. But I also wanted to make a story that's very rooted in India and see how I could weave in our mythology. Before this, I was actually trying to tell a story about a bunch of superheroes coming together on a spaceship, but the budget was just blowing up so much that I decided to stick to the story of one guy in a spaceship. Then I thought about what profession to give him and then it all sort of fell into place. I loved the world-building and finding ways to connect our middle-class problems and lives to the story. (...)

When you were casting, were you ever worried about how actors would respond to it given it's so different to what Indian audiences have seen before?

What I really spoke to Shweta and Vikrant about was longing and departure. That's what I really wanted to convey with the film - that nobody ever truly leaves you. (...) And they're very intelligent actors so I really lucked out that they got what we were talking about and that this wasn't some spectacle sci-fi film, but more of an intimate drama.

Why do you feel sci-fi is something Hindi cinema has stayed away from?

All the big sci-fi films (...) are all from the same predominantly western school, which were all very successful so there was no reason to explore other sci-fi narratives. And now it's become such a big genre. But I think eastern sci-fi stories and fables reflect Indian society more and are more relatable to us. I think there were a lot of false starts for sci-fi in India. They all started by trying to make films that were from the West. I think they should explore different stories. There aren't many examples of sci-fi in India but something like Mr. India they got right because they made it with a lot of honesty. I think in India we don't experiment much. If one or two were to work, then everyone here would be making sci-fi films. I'm sure of that.

Is your dream to one day make the definitive large-scale Indian sci-fi film?

Yeah, that's my mission in life. People used to ask me why I only want to stick to sci-fi. But for me the mission in life is really to make magical stories. Every day I wake up and ask myself what magical story I can tell today.

The CGI to create the spaceship was very impressive. What went into getting that right? (...)

There was a lot of design thought that went into everything, from the which font should be used in the spaceship to getting each and every screen and panel in the spaceship right. I was also very clear that I wanted a retro sci-fi feel with the buttons and knobs. Even for the spaceship, the desing was very important. I wanted to make it like a jellyfish mechanism'.

Woh

Vi segnalo l'articolo How two men pulled off a 52-episode Indian adaptation of Stephen King's It... without reading a single page, di Gayle Sequeira, pubblicato oggi da Film Companion. Il pezzo racconta l'incredibile realizzazione di Woh, una serie televisiva indiana horror diretta da Glen Barretto e Ankush Mohla, trasmessa nel 1998 dal canale Zee TV, ispirata dalla seconda parte del celebre romanzo It - o meglio, dalla sinossi di dieci righe - e dalle due puntate della miniserie americana omonima. Né i registi né gli sceneggiatori hanno mai letto il libro. Nel cast Ashutosh Gowariker, Shreyas Talpade e Liliput Faruqui (nel ruolo del clown). L'articolo include il link ad un paio di episodi.

'Fresh off the shoot of Akele Hum Akele Tum (1995), on which he [Mohla] was an assistant director, he wanted to bring that "small-town, college campus" wibe to Woh. He asked Barretto, a chief assistant director he'd met as an apprentice on Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar (1992), to help him adapt the book into a series. (...)

His [di Barretto] next task was 'Indianizing' the show. He moved the setting from Derry, Maine, to the hill station of Panchgani, linked the resurgence of the clown to a solar eclipse (considered inauspicious in Hindu mythology) and wrote it such that the evil could only be defeated by a crystal found inside the well of a local temple.

In 1996, the two shot a 40-minute pilot at Madh Island "just for fun". They were in their 20s. (...) As he [Barretto] had assisted Gowariker on Pehla Nasha (1993) and Baazi (1995), convincing the director to play the part of Ashutosh, whose son is kidnapped (and later possessed) by the clown, was easy.

What's harder was finding takers for the show. (...) Sony passed on the pilot. Doordarshan picked it up but gave the show the 6.30 PM 'child programming' slot on seeing the clown. Baffled, Mohla and Barretto decided to turn down the offer. (...) Zee TV was interested in the show. " We got to know this in November 1997. Janyuary 1998 was supposed to be the telecast date. Everything moved quickly after that," says Mohla.

The title track happened overnight. Mohla and composer Raju Singh holed themselves up inside a room and listened to English electronic band Prodigy from 11 PM to 5 AM. They emerged with an eerie, childlike 'na na na na' tune. The voices chanting 'woh woh woh woh' over what sounds like a sick turntable beat are theirs. The resulting opening credits were a spooky, seemingly Se7en-inspired montage, featuring shots of a bloodied knife, scorpions, barbed wire, tribal masks and a mud crab (to represent Madh Island, where parts of the show were shot). (...)

As neither writer had read the book, they borrowed much of their characters' personalities from the actors playing them. (...) Mohla himself, who had what Barretto calls a "James Dean vibe" played Shiva, a local don. (...) As most of the cast were friends, dialogues were born out of their banter. Scenes and subplots were written, rewritten, added or subtracted to accomodate actors who had become more popular over the course of the show and were now busy with other projects. (...)

Liliput's own life experiences heavily influenced the ending. He told Mohla and Barretto anecdotes of being publicly laughed at and discriminated against because of his stature. His move to Mumbai and success as an actor despite these obstacles made them determined to give the character a great sendoff in the finale. The actor would later say this show was one of the few times he wasn't relegated to just the comic relief'.

Makkhi: locandina e recensioni

Eega è senza dubbio il film dell'anno. S.S. Rajamouli ha diretto in simultanea la versione telugu (Eega) e quella tamil (Naan Ee). La produzione ha previsto inoltre le edizioni doppiate in hindi (Makkhi) e in malayalam (Eecha). La versione sottotitolata in inglese, distribuita negli USA nel luglio 2012, nel primo fine settimana di programmazione ha registrato  nelle sale americane una media di spettatori per proiezione superiore a quella conseguita da The Amazing Spider-Man. Il 12 ottobre 2012 è stato distribuito Makkhi, e vi segnalo di seguito alcune entusiastiche recensioni:

- Anupama Chopra, Hindustan Times, 13 ottobre 2012, ****: 'Makkhi is the most outlandish film I've seen in years. It's also the most fun I've had in a theatre recently. (...) It takes courage to pick a story as weird as this. Clearly writer-director S.S. Rajamouli is equipped with guts and a ferocious imagination. (...) By the end, I was clapping and rooting for the fly. How many films can get you emotionally invested in an insect? Makkhi is a mad roller coaster ride that's worth taking'.

- Ankur Pathak, Rediff, 12 ottobre 2012, ****: 'The camera work is beyond belief. The result is a mind-blowing rampage of uniquely filmed scenes. (...) This super-fly is a super-stud, a bee-sized package that promises definite entertainment which even the so called larger-than-life superstars fail to achieve or achieve at a highly superficial level. Director S.S. Rajamouli and Kotagiri Venkateswara Rao, who handled the editing and camera work, and the entire team deserve thundering applause'.

- Taran Adarsh, Bollywood Hungama, 9 ottobre 2012, ****: 'Original, inventive, innovative and imaginative, Makkhi raises the bar of films made in India. (...) At a time when most dream merchants in Bollywood are concentrating on mindless entertainers that kiss goodbye to logic, Rajamouli strikes the right balance between logic and entertainment in Makkhi. The scale of the film is colossal, the plot is invigorating and the outcome leaves you mesmerized. (...) A technical wonder, the computer generated fly is, without doubt, the star of the show. And its creator, Rajamouli, a sheer genius for creating a film that sweeps you off your feet and leaves you awe-struck. (...) The writing is smart and clever, the episodes are ingeniously integrated in the screenplay and the culmination to the tale leaves you spellbound. I'd go the extent of saying that Makkhi has an unfaultable start, immaculate middle and impeccable end, which is a rarity as far as Indian films go. (...) On the whole, Makkhi is a landmark film. You ought to watch certain films in your lifetime. Makkhi is one of those films. For choosing a crackling idea, for executing it with panache and for taking Indian cinema to the next level, I doff my hat to you, Mr. S.S. Rajamouli'.
- Box Office India: 'The story, the way it has been written and, above all, the way it has been presented on celluloid takes you totally by surprise. Every scene is a treat to watch, and one good scene is followed by an even better one. (...) Watching Makkhi is a sheer experience! (...) The major highlight of the film is its pace'.

Riporto anche alcune recensioni di Eega:

- Karthik Pasupulate, The Times of India, 6 luglio 2012, ****: 'What's fascinating is that the movie shows a computer-generated-housefly can have pretty much the same effect on the audiences as a rippling superstar. Hair-raising entertainment, jaw dropping, mind-bending thrill-a-second ride of the season, probably the decade, Eega is a game changer. (...) Rajamouli delivered all too well. (...) He's set a new bench mark for Telugu cinema. There are some very original thrills and sequences that will sweep you off your feet. The computer-generated wizardry is seamless. (...) But what is most impressive is the storytelling. Most Telugu filmmakers rely solely on dialogue to take the story forward, but this is perhaps the first film that has the camera taking the narrative forward. In fact, the housefly doesn't have a single dialogue. (...) Visual Effects are just the best ever for a Telugu film, both in terms of originality and quality of output. The film has over 90 minutes of never-before-seen-visual effects that just blow the audiences away'.

- Sangeetha Devi Dundoo, The Hindu, 7 luglio 2012: 'S.S. Rajamouli is completely in control of his team, his narrative and his vision. He proves, yet again, that he is one of the finest storytellers in contemporary Telugu cinema. He is aided by an equally talented team that helps give form to a movie that could have become gimmicky and shallow. Eega raises the bar for visual effects and animation for an Indian film. (...) Eega shows what Indian filmmakers and production houses are capable of, at budgets much lower than that of Hollywood. (...) Sudeep (...) is a perfect match for the animated Eega. (...) Only an actor of calibre could have pulled off a role that called for emoting with an imaginary Eega. Remember that the Eega was added to the frames with the computer graphics after the visuals were shot. Sudeep can keep a few empty shelves ready in his abode to accommodate all the awards he is poised to win the coming year'.

Aggiornamenti del 7 luglio 2022:

- Eega, S.S. Rajamouli's finest film, turns 10, Sagar Tetali, Film Companion, 5 luglio 2022

- As Eega turns 10, a love letter to the spectacular intro S.S. Rajamouli gave its hero, Sankhayan Ghosh, Film Companion, 7 luglio 2022