Conquer thy fear!

Review firft, bakwaaf later.

The new Bhard and hif Pulp

Vifal Bhardwaj, of courf. Kaminey is an   O u t f t a n d i n g   movie. We don’t get much clofer to Pulp Fikfon, no Fir! The ftory, af everyone knowf, if ‘pulpy’, and henf the comparifon to the fuperlative Quentin movie, which I have to watch a fecond time, to get it. And it if a ftory, nothing more. No preaching, no larger-than-life ftuff.

The very good ftuff:

• Kaminey is intelligent, and goadf you into ufing your brain.
• Kaminey is very, very fubtle and nuanfed.
• Kaminey is very claffy, and unapologetic.
• Kaminey ekfplainf nothing. It doefn’t need to.
• Kaminey infults a lot of people, and lotf of kindf-of-people, with fineffe.
• Kaminey haf got fome incredible mufic, and if arranged very beautifully through the movie. Quentin, all over again!
• Kaminey, or rather Bhardwaj, haf an unbelievable eye for detail.
• Kaminey haf a taut ftoryline, doesn’t fag at all.
• Kaminey haf got the beft out of all its actorf, bar none.
• Kaminey coverf a whole gamut of iffuf; corrupfon, drugf, mafia, brotherhood, friendfhip, love, cruelty, infecurity, obfeffion, helpleffneff, AIDF…; with much elan.
• Kaminey coverf Bombay, like no one doef.
• Kaminey is the beft embodiment of the can-do fpirit of the Fity, that I have come acroff.
• Kaminey rockf!

The not-fo-good ftuff:

• It if really irritating to watch it forrounded with people who cannot recognife claff, and apprefiate it.
• Fwine flu. Mint fayf it’f going to make a net loff of 8-10 Croref, purely due to the flu. 😦
• Everyone, including I, keepf comparing it with Quentin’f work, which if quite unfair. Thif if, really, af far af anyone would go, confidering the cultural differenfef.
• It really needf a fanfite to collect, difcuff and diffect all the blunt, oblique and opaque referenfef in the movie. Anyone out there liftening?

The bad ftuff:

• Are you daft?! Nothing here!

Very Fpecial Mention: Priyanka Chopra:

The Marathi mulgi in the movie. Almoft unrecognifable. No glamour, no makeup, but what beauty! And what acting! The timing, the ekfpreffonf, the dialogue delivery, the eyef, the nofe, the lipf, the workf! W O W! Thif if a performanf I can watch for agef! I had given up on her after her very irritating Kriff (heh! heh!). Confioufly avoiding all her movies or ignoring her role till now, it waf the only fore point for me af I entered the finema hall for Kaminey. A big thank you to Priyanka and Vifal Bhardwaj.

Ekfafperated at Fmita watching it in Chennai and reviewing it, and infpired by her comment, I conquered my fear and defided to watch it on Wednefday. A Ferief of unfortunate evenf made thif endeavour quite ufeleff. A chanfe phone call to another friend, and fuddenly, it was on! I watched the movie on thurfday evening, and liked it very much. There were a few disfconnectf in the fecond half (oh yef, very literally half), and I waf ftill wondering about thofe af I watched G. I. Joe (poffible review coming up) on Friday evening. The earlier group of friendf had finally muftered enough courage to go watch Kaminey, and didn’t like it! And worfe, I got raked over the coalf for my recommendation (until then, highly valued). Quite difturbed, I tried thinking back, and couldn’t recall half the movie! Defperate, I waf, until I came acroff the frefhly-minted review by Fpike (I’m really enjoying thif now!) here.  Well, why not! The Giant dropped everything, and headed to PVR for a rematch. And it turned out to be a very good defifion! Problem waf, Thurfday evening waf the end of a headache-filled fleepy day, and therefore not the beft frame of mind for Kaminey. You need to confentrate, or you’ll miff it!! Fref in the morning, it waf a Tour-De-Forfe for the fenfef! Pulp, pulp and more pulp! Referenfe after referenfe! Homage after homage! Fet-piefe by fet-piefe! Ekfpreffion by ekfpreffion! I caught most of the referenfef, and a lot of the nuanfef, and more of the fubtelty. Needf a third viewing!!

Go watch it! And keep an eye out for the bhawre, and the mulgi, and the fweaty armpitf, and the guitar, and the ghoda, and the kurteef, and the guitar piefe near the climakf, the loo, the trainf, the….

 PF: Thif poft haf been rendered unreadable in apprefiation of Babaji, who taught uf how to ufe f for s, sh, z, x,…way back in ’04. Thankew!

Tropic Thunder

Incoming! I thought, as I imagined Juhu beach being carpet-bombed, hearing explosion after explosion tear through the white-hot sky! I wondered also, if I am still alive, and why there’s no smoke, fire, screams. The explosions subsided after a good 15 seconds (!), and I woke up to the sound of pattering rain, at the ungodly time of 5:30 in the morning. Must’ve been some lightning strike! A quick check later, I pulled up a chair to the balcony, and enjoyed the thunder and lightning show for an hour. Then, as the rains abated, the sun came out, the car cleaner below started washing cars (quite redundant, I’d say), I realized I gotta get on my feet and face another day in the rut of the rat race…sigh.

Anyway, here are two photos taken from the same chair:

Sunset

Morning

Mornin’!

PS: The movie was quite a dud, and did not merit a review. It was, however, funny in parts, and the one thing I liked about the movie was that I couldn’t recognize Tom Cruise till the end credits rolled!

PPS: The post was originally ‘posted’ on the morning of 20th August, but I foolishly deleted it while importing from Blogger. D-uh!

The Unbelievably Friendly Postman

This ‘twilight-zone’ incident happened in the first week of Feb. I had ordered a gift from pardes (not very far, actually). The postwallahs out there were very efficient, and tracked my poor parcel (no privacy, you see) every step of the way till it safely boarded the plane. I sat on my hands, marveling at this for a full four days, before my curiousity got the better of me. I tried tracing it through the India speed post website, and pfff, the parcel had vanished! Unable to take it any longer (the b’day was periliously close), I sent off a minion (friend, actually. Sorry!) to the GPO to enquire (inquire?), and expectedly: “We cannot trace it from here. Go to your local Post Office.” I trudged down to the nearest one (well after closing time, on a Saturday. The temerity of I. Sigh.). The postman only asked:”What’s your Pincode?”, and gladly pointed me further down the road. Surprisingly, it wasn’t shut!

Various postmen guided me through the miniscule maze to a place (ok,desk) which ‘handles’ my post (My post. Only. See, now that’s a status symbol.). The elderly post-man sitting there looks me up and down (I keep on wishing he doesn’t remember Diwali 2008. Raat gayi, baat gayi. Right? Right?) and motions to follow. Another miniscule maze later, he tip-taps on a computer and shakes sadly, his head. “Abhi nahi aaya. Kal aa jaayiye.”

My eyes pop out: “Kal Sunday hai!!!”

“Matlab Monday.”

Me, sourly: “Monday ko office hai. Possible nahi hai. Phir saturday aana padega.”

Suddenly, the room brightens, the post-man smiles: “Yeh lo. (Paper and pen.). Aapka full name, address likho. Phone number bhi. Aa jayega to call karenge. Registered hai na, time lagta hai.”

I do the needful. Leave, deciding he did that just to get rid of me. (Yes, i’m a cynic. So?)

Paranoid thought: will he sell my info??

Three days later (b’day’s come and gone.), I get a call from a mobile number: “Main aapka postman bol raha hoon. Aapka parcel aa gaya hai. Aaap ghar par rahenge to bata do, nahi to aa kar collect kar lo.” In my mind, I am jumping through the roof of the moving train, and running back to the Post Office. (First class. Can’t jump with joy. Damn.).

Amazing! Astounding! Incredible! Mind-blowing! Bharat Ratna!

Fortunately, I develop a stomach-ache the next morning, which gets cured by the time the post-office opens (No, I am not bunking school! I am not even in school! It was quite painful. Honest!). I float to the post-office, and am shocked to see a young fellow sitting at the desk. I tentatively start to mumble, when the parcel is gently shoved into my hands. The guy explains that since he was on leave on saturday, someone else was filling in. And he actually passed on the message!!!! Unreal!!! I have died and gone to Postal heaven!!!

I thank him profusely, in bilingual, and bounce out of the Postoffice with the precious cargo. I wondered if there was any other way to thank him which would not belittle his effort or worse, look like a bribe.

I checked out the India Post website. They have a complaint register, but no place for any positive feedback. Idiots! Hence the post.

PS: The friend loved the gift, and didn’t mind the delay. 🙂

PPS: With apologies, in part, to KM’s style of writing film reviews. Not that I miss them.