30 giugno 2012

Numero Unos - A survey of the top hit films: 1950s

Questa mattina Bollywood Hungama ha pubblicato Numero Unos - A survey of the top hit films: 1950s, di Rajiv Vijayakar, il primo di una serie di sette articoli dedicati ai titoli campioni d'incasso della cinematografia hindi suddivisi per decennio. Si parte dagli anni cinquanta. L'India ha da poco conquistato l'indipendenza e subito le atrocità della partizione. Le pellicole di critica sociale vanno per la maggiore. Raj Kapoor è il nome più sfavillante. Le sceneggiature con protagoniste femminili non spaventano il pubblico ma anzi incendiano il botteghino. Mother India, un classicone da paura, entra nella cinquina dei migliori film stranieri agli Oscar (e verrà sconfitto da Le notti di Cabiria di Fellini).

'The 'rolls' of honour
Amazing but true: the biggest hit of the very first year under discussion - 1950 - was Filmistan's Samadhi, a thriller set during India's freedom struggle, narrating a claimed real-life incident in the life of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. And what a wide variety we saw in the Numero Uno hits of this decade, when India was just celebrating the joys of newfound Independence and yet recovering from the aftermath of Partition traumas and facing new problems and internal socio-political conflicts! The nine other winners of the '50s after Samadhi were:
Awaara, a social (1951)
Baiju Bawra, a musical with a historical base (1952)
Anarkali, a historical romance (1953)
Nagin, a costume fantasy (1954)
Shree 420, a social (1955)
C.I.D., a crime thriller (1956)
Mother India, a social (1957)
Madhumati, love story based on reincarnation (1958) and
Anari, a social (1959)

The common thread
The only surefire common thread that ran through all these films was their huge connect with the audience regardless of genre, proving that the ticket-paying viewer was extremely smart in demanding variety and standout fare. Significantly, five of the ten films were produced by just two banners: Filmistan (Samadhi, Anarkali, Nagin) and R.K. Films (Awaara, Shree 420). Raj Kapoor, producer-director and actor of the latter two films, was also the hero of Anari. Together, these three films best epitomized the brand image Raj successfully created for himself - of the Chaplin-esque underdog. Ashok Kumar was a producing partner with Filmistan in Samadhi and Guru Dutt, also an actor-filmmaker, produced C.I.D. but did not star in it. And even in later decades, home productions of stars garnered a significant chunk among BO toppers!
Though the top hits indicated the superstar status of Ashok Kumar and the new Trinity of Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar (Madhumati) and Dev Anand (C.I.D.), it was always the film that made the star: Bharat Bhushan's (and even Meena Kumari's) innings took off only with Baiju Bawra. Sunil Dutt, Rajendra Kumar and Raaj Kumar broke through with Mother India, while Waheeda Rehman made her debut in a negative role with C.I.D.. Even Bina Rai really hit big-time with Anarkali, while leading man Pradeep Kumar set off on the highway to stardom with his two consecutive Numero Unos: Anarkali and Nagin, incidentally the last two highs in the career of common director Nandlal Jaswantlal who had started out in the silent era! It is interesting to see that the '50s had the maximum female-centric super-hits: besides Anarkali, there were Nagin and Madhumati (both Vyjayanthimala) topped by Mother India with that ultimate protagonist - a strong, rooted Indian woman who could be Lakshmi, Saraswati as well as Durga when needed - immortalized by Nargis. Raj Kapoor and Nargis led the star-roster with three films each, two of them (Awaara, Shree 420) as co-stars. 
The final common factor to all films was their popular music scores. (...) It showed how music would always be the major factor in giving a film both a great 'opening draw' and also a second-time watch repeat value. (...)

Leading the pack
Mother India's success was a spectacular, Technicolor trouncing of 1957 heavyweights like Naya Daur, Pyaasa, Do Aankhen Barah Haath and Tumsa Nahin Dekha to clinch the top spot. No other year in the '50s had such serious competition, and that music alone never made any film a blockbuster was borne out by the superior soundtracks of all those near contenders! Ranking among Hindi cinema's all-time biggest blockbusters, Mother India, in an era when movie tickets cost a rupee or less, did a business of Rs 4 crores [1 crore = 10.000.000]! The film, produced and directed by Mehboob Khan as an updated remake of his '40s film Aurat, is the only one in this elite list to make it to the Oscars shortlist for Best Foreign Film.

Setting trends and a pattern
There seemed to be a clear preference for socials with messages in the prevalent euphoric yet confused and thus turbulent society where films had to reflect realities and yet offer relief from everyday problems. Even Baiju Bawra, Anarkali and C.I.D. commented on society, and only Nagin and Madhumati were about only entertainment. If this decade saw filmmaking legends like Raj Kapoor (Awaara and Shree 420), Vijay Bhatt (Baiju Bawra), Bimal Roy (Madhumati) and Mehboob Khan (Mother India) earn new laurels, it also witnessed the career breakthroughs of future aces like Raj Khosla (C.I.D.) and Hrishikesh Mukherjee (Anari). Kapoor, in particular, maintained an incredible record of at least one Numero Uno film for each of his active five decades: before Awaara there had been the path breaking Barsaat in 1949, and he was to follow up with Sangam (1964), Bobby (1973) and Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985)!
Awaara is, as we know, the first Indian film to make a solid mark outside the country: its music, like the movie itself, became a rage in Russia and many other nations to the extent that the names Raj Kapoor and Nargis and the song 'Awara Hoon' became synonyms for India and were akin to magic wands that opened doors and hearts for touring Indians! Baiju Bawra, on the other hand, gave an impetus to the use of simplified Indian classical music in cinema, and Nagin and Madhumati were the respective forerunners of many later fantasies about snakes in human form and reincarnation dramas.
There were some truly piquant trivia: Madhumati's climax was rehashed in Om Shanti Om, the top hit of 2007, while Anarkali's tragic love for Prince Salim would be depicted again in an all-time hit just after this decade ended - Mughal-E-Azam in 1960. Shashi Kapoor, a child star in both Samadhi and Awaara, was to feature in just two multi-hero films later in this elite list: Waqt and Roti Kapada Aur Makaan. Shree 420 was recycled as Shah Rukh Khan's Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman and Deewaar was admittedly part-inspired by Mother India. And yes, funster Mehmood had a tiny standout cameo as a hired killer in C.I.D.!'.

Vedi anche:

29 giugno 2012

Rangeela: A celebration of life

Vi segnalo l'articolo A celebration of life, di Subhash K. Jha, pubblicato oggi da The Indian Express. Il pezzo è dedicato a Rangeela, uno dei film hindi più famosi, diretto da Ram Gopal Varma e interpretato da Urmila Matondkar, Aamir Khan e Jackie Shroff. Di seguito un estratto: 

'Ram Gopal Varma is a director who is known for films that border on violence and drama. But he revealed a completely different facet with Rangeela, which belonged to a different genre. (...) Playing the middleclass Mumbai girl Mili (the protagonist's name was a furtive tribute by director Ram Gopal Varma to Hrishikesh Mukherjee), Urmila Matondkar rocked the box office and changed the definition of how the conventional heroine conducted herself on screen. (...) She scorched the screen, gyrating sensuously to A.R. Rahman's seductive sounds, (...) in her sizzling Manish Malhotra outfit. The magic of the movies is that it foretells a success story even before the story unfolds. Urmila, who did half a dozen inconsequential films before Rangeela, never anticipated the tremendous response that her character whipped at the boxoffice.

A fairy tale
The plot was a cleverly cloaked fairytale. The girl dreams of stardom, is secretly loved by the street hoodlum Munna (Aamir Khan) but is swept off her feet by the nation's hearththrob Raj Kamal (Jackie Shroff). The film was fresh, sassy, unselfconsciously and unabashedly dream-like in choreography, mood and tempo. Mili's life at home is portrayed with a lightness of touch that Ram Gopal Varma (RGV) never seemed to achieve in his subsequent films, which progressively leant towards dark, blood-soaked themes. In Rangeela, the delight RGV derived in portraying the joy of first love, of success or the first dance of effervescence is vividly portrayed in Urmila's performance. (...) Rangeela is RGV's lightest film to date. Its unmistakable power can be traced to Urmila's restive performance. She epitomises the yearnings of the young Mumbai girl with a strong family support-system to realise her dreams. To Mili, family also means Munna (Aamir Khan). (...) One of the finest performances of Aamir's career, Munna gave Aamir a chance to let go, simply have fun with a part without delving deeply into the character. The scenes where he coaches Urmila to memorise her dialogues for her shooting the next day, depicts the unrequited love, as he gets 'in character'. (...) The lovelorn looks he darts at Mili when she isn't looking (she has her eyes trained to a distant dream) kept Munna's character on the level of a street-smart lover-boy without reducing him to a love lost caricature. (...)

A novel experience
Interestingly, films set in the film world fared dismally at the box office. (...) Rangeela was another experience altogether. The excesses of the entertainment industry were harnessed into telling a tale where it was okay for the wannabe screen queen to replace the tantrum-throwing leading lady. Rangeela is all about wish fulfilment. Urmila gets stardom. Aamir gets Urmila. The superstar Jackie Shroff is left to walk the lonely path. You can't have a love story without a broken heart. While the songs and dances were uniquely evocative and erotic, scenes from the film industry were a tongue-in-cheek narration of reality. (...) RGV wove the wackiness of Bollywood into a fresh tale of rags-to-riches saga. The working-class wannabe star was draped in dresses that defied gravity. RGV never resorted to low-angle vulgarity. His camera had not begun to peer between thighs and down cleavages as yet. Rangeela is a celebration of unalloyed innocence. The fun quotient flowed freely and seamlessly from the actors' own enjoyment of the material that was served up to accentuate the contrast between dreamlike aspiration and harsh reality. Significantly, Munna sold tickets at blackmarket rates outside the theatres where Mili aspired to be on screen. It was the perfect blend of fantasy and reality - stuff that Bollywood fariytales are made of.

Rangeela Trivia
* Urmila's character was partly based on RGV's dream woman Sridevi. (...)
* Actor Rajesh Joshi who played Aamir Khan's friend Pakiya died soon after in a road accident. He was actor Manoj Joshi's sibling.
* The unforgettable performance by the waiter, when Aamir takes Urmila to a 5-star hotel for lunch, apparently provoked RGV to say the waiter performed better than Aamir in the scene. The actor who unknowingly caused a rift between Ramu and Aamir was the Gujarati stage television and film actor Rajeev Mehta.
* Aamir and RGV fell out after Rangeela, both vowing they'd never work with the other.
* Madhur Bhandarkar who worked as an assistant to RGV made a cameo appearance during a scene showing a film shoot'.

28 giugno 2012

The Indian independent film industry: where do we go now?

DearCinema pubblica oggi un lungo articolo dedicato alla scena indipendente. L'autore tenta di fornire una corretta definizione di cinema indipendente che tenga conto delle peculiarità indiane, compila una lista degli aspetti che andrebbero creati o rafforzati, ed infine si chiede: dove sta andando il cinema indiano indipendente? 'To build and sustain a viable Independent Film Industry in India we need an ecosystem. This ecosystem of studios/financers, production houses, filmmakers with truly independent voices, talent development programs, festivals with real curatorial authority, dedicated venues for indie film/exhibitors, independent film press to solely review indie films and only report on specialty film box office, and most importantly organizations and institutions dedicated to audience building. The audience that will buy the tickets/ DVDs/ downloads/ merchandise/ what have you, and pump the monies into this ecosystem. (...) The difference between the Bollywood film and the Indian Indie is just that - the quintessential Bollywood musical gives the audience what they expect, and the Indian Indie ideally gives them what they least expect but hopefully want. The other difference is that the Bollywood apparatus like a true industry is very good at defining its product, hence making it ‘commercial’, and the Indian Indie World is not'.

Mard : Recensione


[Blog] Recensione di Mard (1985) film di Manmohan Desai con Amitabh Bachchan e Amrita Singh. 

24 giugno 2012

Shahid Kapoor, uncut

La copertina del numero del 24 giugno 2012 di Brunch è dedicata a Shahid Kapoor. Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Shahid a Tavishi Paitandy Rastogi, Shahid Kapoor, uncut:

'He isn’t the easiest star to deal with. Or so say many people who have worked with him. He has the reputation of being ‘difficult.’ And he doesn’t even try to defend himself. But in this interview, actor Shahid Kapoor finally comes clean. Blame it on youth or sudden fame, he says. He promises to improve, to loosen up... (...) Here’s the man. Coming clean. Completely:

Reclusive, arrogant, difficult, snobbish... what’s with this reputation?
(Laughs) I really don’t know. I know I have a reputation that is not so flattering, but I guess I owe it to just being a private person. I don’t mean anyone harm and I’m not being mean. I just don’t socialise much, I don’t party too much, I don’t know what to say to the media if I’m not talking about a film that I am doing, so yeah, maybe I am perceived as a snob. But I assure you, I am working hard to improve all this.

Come on, isn’t "being private" the best excuse for being "difficult" or maybe "temperamental"?
Okay, let’s put it in perspective. Yes, I agree I wasn’t very easy going by temperament. But remember, I was just 22 when I started out. Think about it, I was fresh from a regular middle-class family, with no "star type" background and I was suddenly thrown into the limelight; it was a big thing. I was overwhelmed. If that wasn’t enough, I got into a serious, very public relationship. Fame hit me suddenly. But by nature, I was rather shy and an introvert. Add to it the fact that my father is Pankaj Kapur, who is the most serious and focused actor. So, of course I didn’t know any better. Taking things seriously was the only way I knew. Now, I am learning that is not the only way to be. Sure, you can loosen up. I think I’m going back in time now - from a man to a boy.

You were very young when you came into the industry, but your directors seemed to feel that you were opinionated. You interfered with their filmmaking. And your co-stars felt you were unfriendly and arrogant.
I don’t know if I can call it interfering but I sure was sceptical about a lot of things. I was new and didn’t want to take too many risks. And fortunately or unfortunately, I was also working with a lot of new filmmakers. So yes, I was apprehensive. And I did ask questions and gave my opinions. That, I am sure, would have created some discomfort. About being arrogant with co-stars, I blame it on my being a great boyfriend. I was in a four-and-a half-year long relationship and was very committed. I did not find any reason nor did I have the time to socialise or make friends otherwise. Now, I have learnt better. And I shall not be the most wonderful boyfriend. (Laughs).

You regret your relationship with Kareena Kapoor?
(Smiles) I don’t look back. I am happy the way things happened and the way things are now. I am in a very good space. That’s all that matters. (...) To clear the air, I haven’t been in a serious relationship in the last two years.

You’ve also created a lot of controversies with your co-stars, what with calling Vidya Balan fat or being at Priyanka Chopra’s house in shorts during the Income Tax raid...
Vidya first. I have to get this straight today. I never, never called her fat. It wasn’t a misquote. In fact, there was no quote at all. I don’t know where that came from. I am far too cultured to be disrespectful to a woman. I wouldn’t and I didn’t. And Priyanka, yeah, I was at her place. We live in the same building. When she heard of the raid, she called me because I am a friend and I was the closest at the time, and I went. And I was in my shorts and T-shirt. Something that I was wearing at home. What was I expected to do? Change into my best suit and welcome the IT guys? For heaven’s sake, why did my shorts become such a big deal? I wasn’t standing there naked! (...)

Talking of failures, Mausam would have been a bad hit...
You know, any rejection is heart breaking, but when that rejection comes after two years of unconditional love and nurturing, it becomes really sour. Mausam was just that. We worked on it for two years. Unfortunately, we got just two months to do post-production and I think that took a toll. Yes, I agree it could have been much shorter. A two-hour, 50-minute film just doesn’t work today. But when I look back, I feel bad, but I am glad I did the film. It gave me two years of blissful family time. Something that I had missed always.

You keep calling yourself an "outsider" but both your parents are actors...
... but not in the "commercial" sense of the word, right? Mom was essentially a theatre person, she did some films and TV mainly. Dad was never very mainstream. And my upbringing was never the flamboyant ‘actor ka beta’ [figlio di attori] type. In fact, far from it.

What was it like?
Very, very middle class. My parents were separated. I lived with my mother in Delhi for the first 10 years of my life and studied in Gyan Bharti Public School. I was very close to my maternal grandfather. Those were tough days. I have never lived in a house that was mine. I have always lived in rented accommodation. There were days when we didn’t have enough money to fill petrol. So we walked. I was also conscious about the fact that I was the only son of a single mother, so there was this huge sense of responsibility. I think that’s where my being an introvert comes from. I was very conscious of what to do and what not to do. It wasn’t really a carefree childhood.

Did you miss your father?
Somewhere I tried to understand. Dad was in Mumbai, and at that time, it wasn’t the easiest thing to travel to Delhi at the drop of a hat. Taking a flight wasn’t the cheapest option and travel was difficult. Of course I had my insecurities and vulnerable moments. But in hindsight, it also made me more responsible. And somehow, more positive. I treated it like a problem... "dad isn’t around, period! So what is the way to get past it?" - that was my attitude. I didn’t sit and wallow in it. That was the time I grew up suddenly - from a boy to a man.

Your relationship with your parents also gets talked about often...
It does. And as casually as anything else. People should be a little more sensitive about things... For me, it is complicated. I don’t have a regular happy family like most people. My parents are separated, my dad married someone else and so did my mom. All my siblings are from my parents’ other marriages. So yes, it is complicated and I don’t like talking about it or explaining this to everybody. But all this doesn’t stop us from being close to each other. I am very close to both my parents. And my siblings are far younger than I am, so I am like their father. A lot of times I know questions are being asked and things are written just for kicks. So I don’t respond. Especially when it’s speculation.

When did you learn to dance ?
Will you believe it, I was a bathroom dancer till my college years. Then I somehow joined Shiamak Davar’s troupe and it all started. And till recently, I believed that I was a great dancer, till my brother Ishaan called me “passé” and showed me some new steps. Man! I wanted to run to save my job!

So who is the real Shahid? And why don’t we see him more often?
I am a good boy. Sweet. I love to chill. I have a select set of friends, am big on house music, love Goa. I don’t read much. Though that is one habit I am trying to inculcate. But the last time I read a book with great interest (...), I turned vegetarian! So it’s tricky, I wouldn’t want to give up too much.

The lover boy and his leading ladies:
Kareena Kapoor - Amazingly talented. All the appreciation she is getting now has been long overdue.
Vidya Balan - (...) She is a very fine actor and a wonderful co-star. And wow! Hasn’t she rediscovered herself? And how!
Priyanka Chopra - Very talented, very sharp, positive and a team player. One of the best co-stars you could have.
Sonam Kapoor - Great fun to work with. She taught me all about clothes. In fact a lot of what I wear even now was suggested by her.
Anushka Sharma - (...) She is ready with her lecture on any and everything. I thought, being a senior, I would tell her how to go about things, but damn, I didn’t even get a chance. Good fun and a great actress.

They make the best films. I love these guys:
Imtiaz Ali - One of the finest talents in the film industry. He is a genius of a filmmaker.
Vishal Bhardwaj - Will give my right arm and leg to work with him again. He is the master of the game. Am waiting eagerly for the next film we can work on.
Pankaj Kapur - By far the finest actor in the industry. I’ve learnt so much from him. In fact most of what I know in terms of anything comes from him. He is unbelievably focused.

23 giugno 2012

Gangs of Wasseypur I: colonna sonora e recensioni

Gangs of Wasseypur I è stato distribuito ieri nelle sale indiane, e l'afflusso da parte del pubblico sembra in costante crescita. Le recensioni sono in generale positive. Ve ne segnalo alcune:
- Mayank Shekhar, 22 giugno 2012: 'So you know Sardar’s the hero, Ramadheer the villain, and the film, a revenge drama seeking poetic justice. And yet the worst mistake you’re likely to make is to walk into this film thinking like that. It’ll kill your fun. In fact, it’s advisable not to even perceive this as a feature film. It’s more of a multi-part mini-series. (...) Your patience is likely to wane after a point. And yes, it does. Yet, just as it does, the makers manage to successfully slip in an inspiring scene, an entertaining snippet or a limited twist in the plot and you go back to engaging with the picture all over again. (...) The film gets the atmospherics, beats and nuances just right. This is quite rare for movies placed in provincial towns. (...) GOW is fictionalised, blood-soaked, demented history that alternates between sharp grittiness and delicious grotesquery. Movies have a gender. This is animalist, male. Given how easy it is to kill off people in this picture, it’s a miracle that they’re all not dead yet!'.
- Raja Sen, Rediff, 22 giugno 2012, ** 1/2: 'And the yawns are the primary issue with Anurag Kashyap's GOW, an impressively ambitious - and excellently shot - collection of memorable characters and entertaining scenes, set to a killer soundtrack. The film never recovers from the unforgivably tedious first half-hour, and despite many laudable moments and nifty touches, never quite engages. This is (...) mostly because Kashyap is defiant in his self-indulgence, piling on more and more when less could have done the job more efficiently. (...) His film tries too hard to be more: more than just an actioner, more than just a drama, more even than a bloodied saga. This overreaching desire to be an Epic makes it a film that, despite some genuinely stunning individual pieces, fails to come together as a whole. There is much to treasure, but there is more to decry. Entire sequences that could be compressed into clever throwaway lines are staged in grand, time-consuming detail; while genuinely sharp lines are often repeated, as if too good to use just once. The characters are a wild, fantastical bunch of oddballs and trigger-happy loons, but attempting to do each fascinating freak justice with meaty chunks of screen-time may not even be film's job. Wasseypur may have worked better as a long and intriguing television series, one deserving a spin-off movie only after six seasons. Here it feels too linear, and even too predictable: scenes themselves often surprise, even delight, but the narrative is cumbersome and unexciting. (...) Yet it is the excess that suffocates all the magic, originality dying out for lack of room to breathe. Kashyap gets flavour, setting and character right, but the lack of economy cripples the film'.
- Shubhra Gupta, The Indian Express, 22 giugno 2012, ****: 'GOW is a sprawling, exuberant, ferociously ambitious piece of film making, which hits most of its marks. It reunites Anurag Kashyap with exactly the kind of style he is most comfortable with: hyper masculine, hyper real, going for the jugular. (...) Wasseypur is not just a place, but a state of mind. (...) There's history here, of the kind almost never attempted by Hindi cinema, bouyed beautifully by geography: the locations are part of the pleasures of the film'.
- NDTV, ***1/2: 'The smartly filmed vendetta saga tosses and turns convulsively from one shootout to another as a bunch of amoral human bloodhounds sniff around for their next kill in a volatile, lawless landscape. The unbridled violence and fetid language - the expletives fly as thick and fast as the bullets - are, however, only one facet of this cinematically layered shot at a time-honoured and popular genre. (...) GOW benefits immensely from a towering performance by Manoj Bajpayee, who immerses himself in the central character of Sardar Khan with such conviction and controlled flair that it becomes impossible to separate the actor from the part'.

Per quanto concerne la spumeggiante colonna sonora, vi segnalo:
- Gangs of Wasseypur - Lyrics translations, MoiFightClub, 7 giugno 2012
- Songs in ‘Bhojpurised’ Hindi, Kashika Saxena, The Times of India, 15 giugno 2012:
'Never underestimate the power of music, because we love to have a song for every occasion. Filmmakers seem to understand this sentiment all too well, which is why even though Anurag Kashyap’s “Gangs Of Wasseypur” is a film about gangsters, its music is being talked about as much as its storyline. The filmmaker explained the quantum of music in the movie in a panel discussion at the Cannes Film Festival saying, “You can’t really get away from music in India. You walk on the street and you’ll hear music from some corner, somewhere. Music is omnipresent in our lives. And the second thing is that music has become a very important part of marketing. If you have good music in your film, you get free airplay, you get awareness about your film, because each Friday you have ten films competing for audience attention and you need to build that awareness. In fact, today, when sometimes a film in India doesn’t have music, marketing teams look for ways to introduce music, such as in the rolling credits, and release that music. I have learnt to try to use music in a way that does not impact the flow of the film, that it becomes as an extension of what is going on in front of the audience - then it’s not a forced insert just for the sake of marketing.”
The attention this film’s music is getting comes as no surprise, what with lyrics like “I am hunter and she want to see my gun”. Twenty-seven-year-old music director Sneha Khanwalkar has used a mix of eclectic artistes from places like Patna, Gaya, Muzaffarpur, Garbandha, among others, for the songs of the film, and she says that the idea was to use simple, vernacular lyrics that can be sung and understood easily. The feedback that she got from Cannes, where the film was praised by many international critics, was that the music wasn’t “very Bollywood”. “It was sounding very global to them because they probably haven’t heard these voices before. These voices are so authentic and from such interior parts. For instance, I went to Trinidad to record this guy Vedesh Sookoo for the song “Hunter” and he only speaks English, but he’s a Bihari who has never been to India, which I find very interesting. I then merged his part with other singers from more of core Bihar and made this song. ‘Shut up’ and ‘my name is’ are words and phrases that are used very easily in small towns like these and I’ve used the accent to show the vernacular influence,” she tells us. No other song except “Hunter” has Hinglish in it, but the lyrics are, in what Sneha calls “Bhojpurised Hindi”. “It is basically core interior land music. The vocal nature is quite cool, and I don’t think one would care about what is actually being sung. They could understand it, but even if they don’t, it’s all right because they would still get the meaning. Even I didn’t try to learn the exact language,” she says.
The people she met while she was making the music for the film, the ones who ended up singing these songs, aren’t professional singers. They’re people who would “probably start singing in the middle of the night in their village, if at all,” she says, adding, “They aren’t professional, but authentic. Like one of the women who sang “Womaniya”, Rekha Jha, is a housewife. Her father taught music and that’s how she did chorus for me. But later I found out that she’s from this place called Mithila, near Ganga, and that’s why her voice is so different from other voices in the Bhojpuri belt.” “The good part is that there was no hurry when I was making the music of this film. There was enough time to do this process because there was no rush; we were thinking only of the music. I gathered all this and then decided who to put where, and then the music got intertwined with the film,” she says'.

Bittoo Boss : Recensione


[Blog] Recensione di Bittoo Boss (2012), con Pulkit Samrat e Amita Pathak.

Dibakar Banerjee: I am anti-dumb

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Dibakar Banerjee a Priya Gupta, pubblicata da The Times of India l'8 giugno 2012. I am anti-dumb: Dibakar Banerjee:

'Unlike many other directors in Bollywood who are star-chasers, you’re known for your unconventional casting. (...)
Today, people are calling Emraan Hashmi a box office star, but one year ago when I cast him in “Shanghai”, people who are seen as opinion makers, sneered at me and said, ‘Who? That kissie guy?’ I, of course, can’t stop smiling because I can stand on a roof top and say, ‘This person you have been sniggering at all these years can do this (performance)’. The same goes for Abhay Deol. When I was casting him in ‘Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!’ they said, ‘Why are you casting him? He is so non-filmi’, and then suddenly, he became the poster boy for alternative cinema. This gives me the strength to take the next step forward. For instance, you have no idea how much pressure I was put under before the making of “LSD”. After two National Award-winning films, you are expected to work on a big film with a big star. “LSD” was a small film with unknown actors, and yet became successful. Today, I get calls asking me how I made trend-setting films like “LSD”. Even with “Shanghai”, I cast Prosenjit Chatterjee because I wanted the audience to see a new face, and yet feel the impact of a star when he comes into the frame. Filmmaking is all about giving that juicy surprise; a good, commercial surprise. (...)

Which film directors do you look up to?
Shekhar Kapur. Anurag Kashyap, who really makes life quite interesting. It’s because of Anurag Kashyap’s presence that Indian cinema is exciting and can never be secure. He creates this energy of discomfort. I love his “Black Friday”. I was an unknown film director when I saw “Black Friday”. I went up to him and shook his hand. Of course he was too drunk to notice me. The same with Vishal Bhardwaj. After I saw “Maqbool”, I went and shook his hand, and said to him, ‘Today you gave me the courage to go ahead and make my film’. I also remember seeing “Bandit Queen” and going into deep depression because I thought this guy has robbed me of my only shot at glory. This was the film that changed my life. I could not believe that an Indian film could be made like this. (...)

You’ve called your film “Shanghai”. All of us know that connotation. Are you anti-development?
I am not anti-anything. I am just pro-brains. Any development plan that has been thought out, the future road-mapped and if done with a sense of justice and fair play, I am totally open to it. However, if you are doing anything in a dumbass way, which in the long run, creates more problems, even though it may be the flavour of the season, I am against it. Which is why I say I am anti-dumb.

Does “Shanghai” draw anything from your personal life?
Every film of mine draws from my personal life. This film draws from where I live in Parel (Mumbai), the area outside. When I come down from the 20th floor of my swanky building into the chawls [grandi caseggiati], I see people who have been living there for a century moving away to make way for the new multi-storey structures coming up. I am not saying it is good or bad. I can see society change in front of my own eyes. I can see history operate in front of my own eyes. On the 20th floor, every night, I am dancing at a party because down there in the chawl I hear a new DJ with a new remix of a new song and there are political meetings, there are marriages and there is one festival every week. So it’s like I am sitting on a cultural treasure house and every day I get something new. All of this has gone into "Shanghai" - the street band, the loudspeaker, the drum beat, (...) the non-stop celebration... So, even though “Shanghai” is a political thriller, in the film we are out on the road dancing, everybody is partying on the road'.

22 giugno 2012

Meenal Baghel: Death in Mumbai

Vi segnalo la recensione del saggio Death in Mumbai di Meenal Baghel, firmata da Gautaman Bhaskaran e pubblicata oggi da Hindustan Times. Il volume analizza un famigerato fatto di cronaca: l'omicidio di Neeraj Grover. Neeraj era un dirigente della casa di produzione televisiva di Ekta Kapoor. Aveva intrecciato una relazione con l'aspirante attrice Maria Susairaj. Il fidanzato di Maria, Emile Jerome Mathew, uccise per gelosia Grover, ed è tuttora in carcere. Ram Gopal Varma ha tratto dalla vicenda il film Not a love story.

'It is never easy to write about an actual murder, a brutal one at that, and Mumbai Mirror’s Editor Meenal Baghel has penned a gripping account of the 2008 Neeraj Grover killing. A young television company executive, Grover may well have been as ruthlessly debonair, callously arrogant and dashingly playboyish as Prem Ahuja was in 1959. When the highly decorated Naval Commander, Kawas Manekshaw Nanavati, found his beautiful wife, British-born Sylvia, having an affair with Ahuja, the enraged husband shot the lover dead. [Aggiornamento del 16 maggio 2022: anche da quel fatto di cronaca è stato tratto un film, Rustom, diretto da Tinu Suresh Desai e interpretato da Akshay Kumar]. Grover’s case appeared to run parallel to the Nanavati story. But unlike the naval officer’s life, Grover’s was one of glamour, part of the celebrity circle that he was. When he met Maria Susairaj, a small-time television actress aspiring to make it big in Bollywood, Grover probably saw several opportunities here. He could have made her a star, and, well, had a passionate sexual affair. Susairaj wanted to fly, but she really did not have the great good looks to hit stardom. Maybe, she saw in Grover, a hope, however faint, to fulfil her dream. But Susairaj was engaged to Emile Jerome Mathew, a dashing naval officer, and this man was jealous, and so horrendously that his fiancée could not even fathom.

Baghel pieces together the events leading up to what can be called a Shakespearean tragedy, and whose dramatis personae were three young people who could not care how they lived their lives or how bloody the road they chose to travel. Here was a woman who played around with the emotions of two men - with one ultimately butchering the other. Here was one man, who threw morals to the winds and slept with one whom he knew was engaged to be married. Here was another man so consumed with jealousy and distrust that he could not hold himself back. Baghel of course had a classic plot to fall back upon that ran like a pulse-pounding thriller, but she goes beyond mere retelling of the murder, mere reportage. And herein lays the book’s value. (...) Baghel bases her work on extensive interviews with the families and friends of Grover, Mathew and Susairaj to take us deep into the psyche of all three. Neeraj was a flirt, a small-town boy with the drive of a big town dreamer. Maria was certainly manipulative, a no-holds-barred climber, while Emile was an upright guy who fell for the wrong woman. (...) 

Baghel also tries to tell us about the pressures of the entertainment industry and how they drive men and women to the precipice. Her chats with Ram Gopal Varma, who made a film on the Grover murder, Not A Love Story, Moon Das, who was offered a role to play Maria’s character in a movie, and Ekta Kapoor, Neeraj’s boss in Balaji telefilms, are insightful. Although Baghel attempts to stop herself from sympathising with any of her characters, it is apparent that she has a soft corner for Mathew. He really was no murderer as Susairaj was a seducer and Grover a womaniser. Yet, Mathew remains in jail, while Susairaj has walked out after serving a three-year sentence. As much as killing can never be condoned, the one who provokes a murder, the one who manipulates emotions must, in the final analysis, bear the cross of guilt'.

Abhay Deol: It's unfair to compare me to my family

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Abhay Deol a Suruchi Sharma, pubblicata oggi da The Times of India. It's unfair to compare me to my family:

'Industry insiders and critics hail you as the pioneer in new-age cinema. How do you react to that? 
Its humbling, it’s exciting, it’s a huge compliment and it can be a little intimidating. But it makes me feel it was all worth it - all the struggle, all the fighting and cynicism or the bitterness that I went through. Not that the struggle is over, but when you hear things like you’re the ‘pioneer for change’ - that’s when you think that maybe I’m not making the amount of money that most actors do, maybe my films don’t get the budget that other films get and my films don’t get much better marketing and publicity - but despite all that, there is recognition, so I must be doing something right. (...) I like characters that I can relate to, characters that are close to people that I have seen in real life. I like scripts that marry entertainment with realism. For me, larger-than-life is boring. Neither can I do something that’s too real because then it becomes over intellectual. So I automatically gravitated towards scripts which were real and entertaining. The only thing that I can say at the risk of sounding egotistical, or arrogant is that I know my scripts - everything else is up in the air - but I depend on my own feelings and instincts when it comes to saying yes to a script. (...)

Even after so many years in B-wood, people ask you the ‘Deol’ question. Isn’t it annoying?
In the beginning it was expected. I mean I was debuting in Bollywood, I hadn’t done many movies, so I was ready for those questions, but when I did my 4th film, 5th, 6th film, and the questions didn’t end, then I started to feel it was very unfair to constantly compare me to my family or say that I don’t do typical Deol kind of roles. I think my family does exactly what everyone else in the industry does. They get an image, they conform to it and then cash in on it, that’s how the business works here - all stars confirm to an image. So let us not just single out my family. There are other actors too who come from film families but they are not constantly compared to their family, they are compared to the reigning stars. I want to be compared to the entire industry.

Are you bitter about this comparison? Or is there something else about this industry that makes you angry?
I was bitter in the beginning, as I felt people were being biased. There wasn’t much coming my way, and whatever work I got was mostly for playing the third guy who’s either a comic or an idiot. I turned down those movies. So, people thought, ‘his debut movie was a flop, he hasn’t worked in the industry that much, why is he turning me down?’ What people didn’t understand was that I was choosy from the very start. I was vocal about formula and non-formula and how we need to make a change. But 7-8 years back people didn’t understand all this. So I had a lot of angst in me because people would just not let me grow.

But you are growing now, with people like Dibakar Banerjee and Anurag Kashyap?
To tell you the truth, Dibakar is an alien in a human body, he is not of this world and that’s why he is such a brilliant filmmaker. It was Dibakar who convinced me to do Shanghai. I wouldn’t have done something so alien to me if I wasn’t sure of the director. Though I was dying to work with him'.

Hand-painted posters make a comeback in Bollywood

Vi segnalo l'articolo Hand-painted posters make a comeback in Bollywood, di Divya Arya, pubblicato da Hindustan Times il 17 giugno 2012:
'Indian posters were known for larger-than-life, pertinent, bold portrayals of actors. With a boldly lined cleavage of the heroine to the bulging biceps of the hero - our posters used vibrant colours, heavy strokes, highlights and flashy expressions. (...) Posters have today become a thing of art and are recommended by art curators as vintage and collectibles. Posters have provided the platform for artists like M.F. Hussain  to rise to eminence. The art of posters, as art curators interpret it, is lost to the photographic, HD digital quality stills, which are  easy to design and distribute, but seem lackluster. Creating posters to publicise modern entertainment is a lucrative way to conserve the long lost art. Posters have been the art of the common man. Posters have been the most appropriate style to depict the exaggeration and extravaganza that Indian films are. Posters have had a journey of their own in the Indian cinema with a history sprawled over 80 years. Posters strive to be immortal. Good posters achieve immortality. (...) Movies fill in where life disappoints. Everything related to a movie, be it the actors, the songs, the dancing, the destinations - it all has elements of dream and delirium. It is the bridge between our lives as they exist and lives that might be. A poster, is the best blueprint of what cinema stands for - exaggeration, melodrama and fantasy'.

An insider's view of the Film Censor Board

Vi segnalo l'articolo An insider's view of the Film Censor Board, di Mayank Shekhar, pubblicato il 19 giugno 2012 da The New York Times. Il noto critico cinematografico racconta la sua esperienza in qualità di consulente del famigerato Central Board of Film Certification dal 2007 al 2009. L'ente preposto alla censura vaglia ogni anno 13.500 (!) pellicole, compresi trailer, corti, documentari e spot pubblicitari per il circuito cinematografico. Circa 1.200-1.300 sono lungometraggi. L'ente ha sede a Mumbai, ma opera anche in altri otto centri distaccati: New Delhi, Chennai, Kolkata, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Thiruvananthapuram, Guwahati and Cuttack.
'The chairperson, appointed by the government, is usually a known figure from arts and entertainment. (...) About 500 citizens, 150 of them in Mumbai, are entrusted with the task of certifying films during their terms, the lengths of which can vary. (...) An identity card given by the Censor Board allowed them free access into any cinema in India, so they could check and report to the police if films were being played without the suggested cuts. Some of the members claimed that they had even got theaters shut down. Many spoke at length on the declining morality of Indian films. Going through the attendance roster of those members now, I realized that a majority of them had listed “social service” as their profession. Board officials told me that it’s a euphemism for political activist. They are mostly appointed on recommendation of their local legislators or politicians. (...) Arguably the Censor Board film classifications have been more lenient toward violence than toward sexual content. (...) Over the years, the focus of the Censor Board appears to have shifted from sex and violence to people’s “hurt sentiments” - some of it possibly real, but much of it imagined. (...) I sat through another B-grade film for the Censor Board. This time it was an excessively violent flick. (...) Yawning panelists at the preview granted it an “A” [solo per adulti] certificate, without any cuts. The film’s producer walked into the screening room. “No cuts at all?” he asked. “It’s so violent, you must give cuts. (...) Come on, how will people know this film exists? I’ve made a very violent film. How will I publicize it?”.'

Amitabha Bagchi: The householder

Vi segnalo la recensione del romanzo The householder di Amitabha Bagchi, firmata da Arshia Sattar, pubblicata da Open il 17 giugno 2012:
'A corrupt underling is as crooked as the system he works in, but Bagchi’s quiet, masterly prose leaves you with sympathy for his morally bankrupt protagonist. Amitabha Bagchi’s second novel, The Householder, is a delight. And a welcome breath of fresh air in a literary atmosphere clouded with stylish feints and clogged with pretentious storytelling. This appears to be a simple story told in simple, elegant prose that rarely draws attention to itself. Until you finish the book, that is. And realise that neither was the story simple nor the prose unremarkable. (...) Bagchi’s novel is set in the corridors of Delhi’s bureaucratic and political universe, a netherworld where anything can be fixed and unfixed, provided the price is right. (...) The Householder also turns its sights onto the degraded space inside India Shining, where the complete absence of personal ethics goes hand in hand with rampant corruption. Actually, the image that comes more strongly to mind is that of a serpent consuming its own tail - a seamless continuum between the private and public spheres where the decay of one implies the corrosion of the other and vice versa. (...) Bagchi writes with a studied neutrality. (...) It is Bagchi’s control over the authorial voice that makes The Householder deceptive in its apparent simplicity. (...) The power of this book lies in showing us how unremarkable corruption and the corrupt have become in India. Bagchi paints this picture without resorting to satire or patronising mockery or through lurid descriptions of sordid crimes and garden-variety misdemeanours. There is no other world but this. (...) The Householder is a masterful piece of writing because it manages to hold cynicism and righteous anger at bay. By doing so, it reveals the truly tragic proportions of contemporary India'.

Kangna Ranaut: I struggled for roles like crazy

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Kangana Ranaut a Kersi Khambatta, pubblicata oggi da iDiva. I struggled for roles like crazy:

'“There is an almost non-existent cultural element to life in Himachal. There is no art, no theatre or music, not even a traditional dance that we can call our own. This hit me the first time I went to Chandigarh, just out of school; all of a sudden, from growing up among trades-people and agriculturists, I was surrounded by people who were studying art, music, theatre, stuff we had never heard about back home. Suddenly, my future options were no longer limited to science fields, law or accounting. I realised that there are a whole bunch of other things I can be, and all of those were way more attractive. I chose to act.”
But the parental reaction to that must have been formidable. “Of course it was. There were shouting matches. My father was rendered speechless. My mother thought I was possessed. Even my elder sister thought I was mad. That was the worst, most stressful period of my life. Today, I don’t know how I went through it all.”
You reckon you can see a little of the steel it must have taken a 17-year-old to stand her ground and take off to New Delhi against everyone’s wishes, to enroll in the Asmita Theatre Group run by veteran theatre director Arvind Gaur. “Theatre was my stepping stone to film.” (...)
According to Wikipedia, she was ‘spotted by Anurag Basu in a cafe and he offered her the lead role in Gangster (2006).’ Does this kind of stuff really happen?
“It’s rubbish. They cooked up this story because it sounds dreamy and filmi in itself. I struggled for roles like crazy. Agents would call us; there were all these same aspirants going around everywhere, to all the same auditions. I sat in queues, read lines like everyone else. And I got picked for Gangster.”
Was theatre not satisfying enough to continue? “My mentor, Arvind Gaur, told me that theatre in this country is only done to fulfill a passion; there is no money in it. If you want to be successful and make money, then films are the only way. I loved my time in [New] Delhi, although it was tough. I lived in a hostel, did a little modelling to support myself, although I was not very successful at it. The most favourable response I received was for my acting. Bombay just seemed the obvious choice after that.” (...)
Ask her about what these seven years in Bollywood have taught her, and she thinks. “More decisiveness about where I am going. More clarity where there once was only total confusion. My brain is less scattered. I would still love to do many things, paint, sing, but I think I’ll focus on acting for now.”
After playing trouble-ridden characters, (...) there was some serious need for comic relief. “Tanu Weds Manu was a treat to do. I still don’t know what I do best, but I’d had enough of the psycho-bitch roles. Comedy gave me a chance to learn new expressions”.'

21 giugno 2012

Autori vari: Amul's India

Vi segnalo la recensione del saggio Amul's India, firmata da Anwesha Mittra e pubblicata oggi da The Times of India. Nel subcontinente il burro Amul è da cinquant'anni un'istituzione. Le campagne promozionali commissionate dall'azienda sono rimaste praticamente invariate nella concezione, ma con uno slogan nuovo (e una vignetta nuova) quasi ogni settimana. In modo arguto e colorato commentano qualsiasi argomento, dalla politica alla cronaca all'intrattenimento. Un fenomeno pubblicitario forse più unico che raro. Il volume include anche un contributo di Amitabh Bachchan.

'Amul’s little moppet in a red polka dotted dress and a blue ponytail delivered on a regular basis a humorous take on everything that bothered us, everything we thought deserved a repartee. Like a true spokesperson of the masses, she rose to every occasion, be it a cricketing double century, scandals surrounding politicians, to controversial diplomatic policies, with an infallible gut and a tongue-in-cheek attitude. And in the process made Brand Amul synonymous with honesty, purity and subtlety.
Since her birth in the 60s, (...) she has remained an icon of sorts in the advertising world, surviving odds of the trade and yet being steadfastly consistent. Our impish little Amul girl today not only looks the same, but retains that crispy cheekiness with which she pranced into out hearts the first time and said naively, “Give us this day our daily bread: with Amul butter.” As a deserving tribute to Amul’s journey across five decades and a massive advertising success on its back, the book Amul’s India is an attempt to deconstruct the brand, the little things that went into making a heroic success of the Amul girl, sentiments of its makers, and of those who loved to pass by an Amul hoarding each time. Like a celebration of the memorable Amul hoardings, the book in a non-linear pattern chronicles decades of having fun with subjects such as politics, Bollywood, sports and personalities among others. (...)
The journey was of course not a seamless one as the brand landed up in a couple of legal wrangles only to emerge unfazed and stronger than ever. (...) But there were those like painter M.F. Husain who loved Amul’s ‘Heroin Addiction - Fida on you’ that had the barefoot artist paint Bollywood diva Madhuri Dixit, and requested for a personal copy for his studio. (...)
Amul’s India is another interesting way to get different perspectives on popular ads that formed an inexplicable part of our growing up years. (...) Amul through various hoardings over a period has mocked at men, celebrated female achievements or at least brought them to the fore, and depicted the rapidly changing status of women. (...) Some popular brands lost out to competition in a desperate bid to change their mascot. Time and again companies attempted to reposition themselves, but Amul never did. It didn’t have to, nor does it need to, for we prefer its unvarnished views of India in that ‘utterly butterly delicious’ manner'.

Anurag Kashyap: Gangs of Wasseypur almost did not get made

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Anurag Kashyap a Sonil Dedhia, pubblicata da Rediff il 19 giugno 2012. Gangs Of Wasseypur almost did not get made
'A lot of people are comparing the film with The Godfather. Is that justified?
At the end of the day, it's a good comparison. I take it as a compliment. (...) My films are a story of three generations and Godfather is the ultimate crime tale of three generations.
This film is your most ambitious one so far. What difficulties did you face in making it?
Gangs of Wasseypur almost did not get made. People did not believe in my film. They asked me why I wanted to work on this film and not something like Dev. D which was a success. I don't want to repeat myself. People also questioned me about making another mafia film. But I had this story which is entertaining and at the same time, it will engage the audience. In five hours and 20 minutes, the audience will explore the mafia in Gangs Of Wasseypur and I am sure they will like it.
You have been making the kind of films that you wanted to make. Do you think finally the audience and the industry is waking up to your films?
Our cinema is changing; our mainstream cinema has changed so much. I think today alternative cinema can happily exist with mainstream cinema. There are fewer struggles to make the kind of films I have been making. This is the time when you can make films without stars and they are working at the box office. Some directors who have been supporting this for a long time are finding it much easier to make their films.
As a newcomer, you took a lot of flak for the kind of films you made. Of late the industry and the critics have started praising your work.
I have always been seen as a troublemaker or a problem creator. I guess that suits my image (Winks). A lot of people are astonished that in spite of cheating the producers how does Anurag Kashyap manage to make films? Logically, businesswise, it does not make sense how I make my films (laughs). I still feel that the old-school filmmakers don't like me. I guess they don't understand the kind of films that I am trying to make. At the same time, the generation has changed. A lot of new blood has been infused into the industry and they are standing up for the same thing that I have been doing for so many years. I still feel that my acceptance is not very wide. I have a lot of support from the director and the actor community, but the distributors and producers are still trying to figure out what I want to do.
How challenging was it to make a film that you wanted to make and at the same time make it entertaining?
To begin with, it was a film that had the potential to be entertaining. I can't force entertainment in a film like That girl in yellow boots. There are different stories within the story and we brought in music to bind all of them together. The kind of music Sneha Khanwalkar has done is just phenomenal. The intention was to make an entertaining film, or else we wouldn't have been given so much money to make GOW. (...)
Do you think that the length of GOW (five hours and 20 minutes) will be a hindrance?
Eight hundred people watched the film in Cannes and gave it a standing ovation. The audience mainly consisted of people who read the subtitles and did not know the language. This has given me enough confidence that GOW is going to work. We were thinking of making the film in three parts. We wrote three scripts. We combined half of the second part in part one and the other in part two. It is one film, but we had to make it in parts. I think two parts are not enough; it could have become a TV series (laughs).
Do you think production houses have started believing in you? I remember at FICCI Frames this year you mentioned that you change the scripts on the spot and that irks a lot of producers.
The basic rule of cinema is that a script is written three times - when you are writing the script, when you are shooting the film, and then when you are editing the film. A lot of people misconstrue it. When I started my journey in films people never wrote scripts. Until six to seven years ago, there was no concept of bound scripts. People made a face when you handed them bound scripts. The same people today demand a bound script. A basic script is always treated like a map. Yes, I do change scripts but only when it is needed. Improvisation is always necessary and I don't do it alone. I consult my actors, writers and other important people. There are times when producers don't know how to read scripts. Thankfully the newer lot of producers know how to read scripts. They understand the fact that the script will evolve during the making of the film.
Your films have always been dark and intense. Would you make a completely different film?
The problem is that we make so many light-hearted, candy floss films that anything real seems dark. Barring That girl in yellow boots, my films are not dark nor are they intense. When I made Paanch, a lot of people said the film was dark and disturbing because of the kind of films that were being made by other filmmakers then. Today, the same people say that Paanch is a mainstream commercial cinema and it should have been released. I don't understand how a film that was dark when I made it suddenly becomes a commercial film. The problem is not with my films, it is with the mindset of people.
You have never worked with big stars in your films. Do you still feel that the industry is star driven and requires a big star to make a film successful?
The purpose of the industry is to grow monetarily and economically. In other countries, a lot of money is spent on research for the film. Ours is one industry that does not spend anything on research. There is a safe formula that is adopted in our industry. A star will work in our film and we will make money. This is not how films are made. I identify films with their directors and not actors, except in the case of Aamir Khan where you trust that you are bound to see a good film. (...) 
You recently mentioned in an interview that you don't want to become another Ram Gopal Varma...
Ram Gopal Varma is someone who I have learnt everything from. He taught me a lot about cinema and I diligently follow that. He has somewhere isolated himself. He has cut himself off from the rest of the world. He has a virtual presence but I believe that he has slightly cut off from what's happening in cinema. His idea about filmmaking and shot designing is quite fixed. I feel bad that he has isolated himself because I care about him. When he discovers any camera or equipment, he always talks about it as if he is the one who has found it. But all over the world, kids are experimenting with it. His experiments are becoming like a child with a toy which sometimes is good but what happens is that he is Ram Gopal Varma and people have expectations from him which burden him with restrictions. He has reached beyond the point where he is trying to impress anyone. He doesn't realise that it costs money and it is someone else's money. Things are not working for him which is making him stubborn. I will not say that he doesn't have it in him to come back'.

19 giugno 2012

Manoj Bajpayee: interviste

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Manoj Bajpayee a Indiatimes, pubblicata il 12 giugno 2012:
'You were never the one to be seen at movie promotions. Isn't the current campaign - unfamiliar territory - tiring you?
Things have changed a lot; the fact that everything is temporary was perhaps never as true as it is now. (...) I faced situations where the producer could not ensure much visibility for my movies, sometimes from lack of funds, or from other reasons.
Such as?
1971 is the prime example! It is one of the best films of my career. (...) It was the first real film on the Army in a very long time. (...) So I don't know whether the promotions work or not (...) but I am not going to find out. Sometimes, publicity can be a brain dead thing, but I say, let it be, if it is working for a film, I am available, because I have suffered the cost of no publicity - not in one film, but in two, three films very dear to me! If it's fruitful conversation, I am very happy - but even when it is not, I tell people, no, I don't mind it (laughs)!
Some scandals, some fights, may help?
(Laughs) I am not somebody who would like to show his emotions publically. I may be able to speak to you one-to-one, but if we were to be speaking in front of ten people right now, I would not really say much. That's a personality defect. But I am working on it. (...) I have seen the consequences of not having attention for my film, so I am prepared to change myself in some ways to get it. And this film is for the people - it is not for drawing room conversation, that's very clear to me. (...)
It's far easier to visualize you as the protagonist for a film like Shool - upholding a certain line of thought. In Zubeidaa, there's a fair shade of grey in the protagonist, and moving further, in Gangs of Wasseypur (since I've seen the film and the readers haven't) there's a lot of grey (...)
There's nothing right about this person; this is why this role is so interesting. He has no sense of right and wrong, he has no sense of morality. He leches at this girl, openly, and the next day he goes and kills someone who is harassing a girl. It's a contradiction, but not for him, since he has no sense of right or wrong. What he's doing right now is right for him.
I assume, for you, a grey character is more difficult to execute?
It's much more difficult to execute. Much more! (...) One of the most difficult shots. Reemma is cooking, and I am looking at her back. (...) Now that's something that is not from my world. (...) If I have found a girl attractive, sometimes we have managed to say it, sometimes you have stayed in touch over the phone. (...) But to just lech at someone's back and accompany it with such a voyeuristic, orgasmic expression is something I have never experienced in my life (laughs)... (...)
You get a main lead after quite some time and you're still not a hero, but quite possibly the wickedest man in the script?
This is possibly the first time in Indian cinema in a while. (...) There's nothing right about him. (...) I wouldn't have thought I could pull off this role, frankly. (...)
How are you looking forward to having your family watch your super lecherous avatar on screen?
I am scared! I am going to tell them to go one by one and see it alone. Please. It will be very embarrassing if my brothers and sisters watch it with my parents; it will be quite an issue in the family! We basically come from a small village near the Nepal border; the family sensibilities are like that. (...)
You seem to be quite busy at the moment.
I have never been this busy, never had this much work in my career, in my life. Nobody still believes that I did no work for a year after (...) Satya. There were no directors for people like me. An Anurag Kashyap was still trying to prove himself. That crop of directors that are around today - they weren't there. I often feel that all this came five years late for me, and I am jealous of the actors in their prime who are able to work with such directors today. Even Nawaz (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) has got his due very late; he's also a victim of no directors being around when he was entering the industry.
And the likes of you, Nawaz, Irrfan [Khan] have been conspicuous by their absence from the 100-crore club of movies, haven't you? (...)
Are we actually welcome there? No, we are not. And I have come to terms with it. If somebody is not opening the door for you, I will not feel bad; I'd rather knock on another door. But the painful time was when there was only one door, and all the other houses were walled; there were just no doors. Today, even today, if I like a director's work, I pick up the phone, call his number, and ask him for work. (...)
There must be young people trying to break into cinema who come to you for advice. What do you tell them?
Yes, many of them come, but I don't know what to tell them, there are no easy answers. You have to keep going to people, you have to keep auditioning. In my time, you didn't even have the culture of auditions. I still remember pestering Mahesh Bhatt during a lunch break to switch on his camera. And I was so insistent - so aggressively insistent - that he actually switched on his camera and took my audition. Acting is my passion, not celebrity status. I left theatre only because theatre was not paying me anything and I was not getting any younger. I tell young people to ask themselves whether they want to enter acting for the sake of acting, or for something else that it will give them - because then it can break you. (...) I wanted only acting. Nothing through acting.
Your take on just wanting to act, not the fringe benefits, is rather philosophical, isn't it? (...)
I am always conscious of my own mortality. Guru Dutt isn't here anymore, Raj Kapoor was here, he's gone... My story isn't going to be any different. If I can move towards the very end of my lifespan doing what I want to do, that, for me, is the biggest achievement'.

Vi propongo anche un corposo estratto dall'intervista concessa da Manoj a Sonil Dedhia, pubblicata ieri da Rediff. Manoj Bajpayee: Never been so busy in my entire career:
'You recently went to the Cannes Film Festival with Gangs of Wasseypur. How was the experience?
Cannes is just amazing. The feedback for the film and my role was quite exhilarating. I was surprised when I saw the French and people from other continents who couldn't understand the language give a standing ovation to the film. The place is buzzing all the time. I curse myself for not being there earlier but from next year I'll make sure even if my film is not there I go there for a holiday with my family during the film festival. (...)
What was it about Gangs of Wasseypur that appealed to you?
It's a film where I have completely changed as an actor. I have changed my approach to acting. I have unlearned things as an actor and it was very difficult for me to do that. I was risking a lot of things with this film. My whole approach to my role was completely different. I didn't want anyone to know that this is the Manoj Bajpayee they have seen earlier. A lot of people told me not to take up this role but I stood by my decision. Also, I felt that I was in the safe hands of Anurag Kashyap who gave me an opportunity to re-define myself as an actor.
You have earlier played characters with grey shades but your character in Gangs of Wasseypur looks quite unusual.
Well, you will have to pay for the ticket and watch me on the screen (laughs). On a serious note, there is nothing right about my character Sardar Khan. This is why this role is so interesting. He has no sense of right and wrong, he has no sense of morality. He loves sex and he doesn't mind killing people. He leches at a girl, forces her to sleep with him and the very next day he goes and kills someone who is harassing a girl. He lives for the moment and what he does at that time is right for him. In spite of him having so many flaws and vices, I had to make my character look adorable, which was very tough.
Most of your films have been set in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, the same region where you come from. Does acting in such films come naturally to you?
Nothing comes naturally to me. I reject the idea that if the story is set in Uttar Pradesh or Bihar it will come naturally to me. Accent doesn't make you an actor. It is the approach and the performance of an actor that count. Performance doesn't come naturally just because you come from a particular region. Getting into the skin of this character was quite a gruelling task. I think it's the toughest performance of my career. (...)
You have worked with Anurag as a writer. How was he as a director?
Anurag is a very easy director. He gives complete freedom and makes things very easy for his actors. He understands the suffering and insecurities of an actor. He's one of those rare directors who can relate to their actors. That is the reason you see fantastic performances in all his films. He has evolved a lot as a filmmaker.
There was a lull in your career before Raajneeti.
Not many people know that I was not well. My shoulder was in bad shape. I couldn't even move my hand. For two years I had to lie low and listen to and read all the false reports that were written by the media. I lost a lot of projects that I had in hand. But, yes, I am here promoting my film today and I am also busy with my other films (smiles).
How did you deal with the situation?
I was unfazed by it. My priority was to get myself fit. I missed out on a lot of films, which I would have loved to be a part of. I suffered a lot. I was without work and money. I was spending everything that I had saved. It was the most challenging phase of my life. At the same time, some people came out in support. Prakash Jha offered me Raajneeti and subsequently Aarakshan when I needed it the most.
When you look back on your career, do you think filmmakers have not been able to use the potential that you have as an actor?
I think not even 25 per cent of my potential has been utilised. I still have the same passion and the hunger that I had when I started my career. I am in search for great roles all the time. I hope things will get back to normal and directors will keep coming to me, give me challenging roles and keep putting my talent to good use (smiles). (...)
How is your equation with Ram Gopal Varma?
My equation with Ram Gopal Varma will never change. I will always be indebted to him. Whatever I am today is because of him and I don't think that my equation with him will ever change'.

17 giugno 2012

Emraan Hashmi: Never thought I would end up where I am today

Vi segnalo l'intervista concessa da Emraan Hashmi a Sonil Dedhia, pubblicata da Rediff il 5 giugno 2012. Emraan: Never thought I would end up where I am today:

'Shanghai is one of the biggest movies of the year. What do you think of that?
It's a new time in our industry with the kind of films that are being made and Shanghai is one step in that direction. All these years our industry has functioned in a formulaic way where if something becomes a hit or works at the box office, it gets repeated again and again. Very few filmmakers step out of the crease and try to do something different and Dibakar Banerjee is one of them. I would like to work in more films like Shanghai which surprise audiences. I would like Shanghai to do the same kind of business that any other commercial film would do.

Director Dibakar Banerjee and you have explored the diverse sides of filmmaking. How has working with him benefited you?
The way Dibakar shoots the film is very different from the way I have worked in my films. He does a lot of research and I guess that can be seen when he starts making the film. He starts scripting the film a year before he shoots it and the post-production takes almost a year. That's commendable. He takes almost three years from the ideation to completion of a film. There is intent to make a brilliant film. I've always wanted to work with a director like Dibakar. He doesn't overlook minor details. He wants to do things out of the box and break the mould of how you would perceive an actor or a film and present it in a completely different way.

Were you on the same page as Dibakar since day one?
It was difficult for me to get into the process of how Dibakar functions. I work in a certain style. Generally, I read the script, learn the dialogues, go on the sets and give my shot. Dibakar wanted me to get into the skin of the character. He made me go through 10 workshops and then he started working on my physical appearance. I had to put on weight for my character. I started working on my character almost a month and a half in advance, which is unlike anything that I have done before. 

It's true that you look very different in this film from what we have seen before.
My character in the film is quite complex. I play a small-town journalist, who also shoots marriage videos. He is also a photographer and also shoots porn films. I've never played a character from a small town and so this role was very different for me, both in terms of getting into his psyche and changing my physicality. Let me tell you, before Shanghai I never attended any workshop to prepare for my character.

Did you, at any point of time, question Dibakar about your looks in the film?
No, but I asked him whether he could have made me look any worse and he replied, 'Give me one more film and I will make you look even worse.' 

You have admitted that you are not a good dancer but you managed to dance very freely in one of the songs.
It was very difficult for me to do the dance steps in Bharat Mata Ki Jai. I have issues when people give me dance steps when I am on the sets. Dibakar knew that and asked the choreographer to give me the steps well in advance. I also saw a lot of videos of processions and would rehearse a lot after watching them. In fact, the day we shot the song, Dibakar also did the steps to make me comfortable. (...)

You have never been in any controversies nor are you seen on the party circuit.
When I am not working on a film, I dissociate from films completely. I like to enjoy my space. I like to travel so I keep travelling. Also I have non-filmi friends so they don't talk about films. I like to keep it that way'.