Do we care for musicals?
SAY NO SAY NO
Saawariya is just the latest in a line of experimental films that may be proof that despite our love for songs and dances, we don’t really care for musicals.
NOV 25, 2007 - IF THERE IS SUCH A THING as an Indian genome, and if it is going to go under a microscope, here’s what they’ll find out about us: that we love bright colours; that we can’t do without oily, spicy food; that however much reason and reality may tell us otherwise, we’ll always find things to like about Sachin Tendulkar and Shah Rukh Khan; and that we’d rather have a lettuce-salad lunch or wear white or defect to Dhoni-worship than give up the music videos in our cinema.
Whenever a film containing songs and dances is made in the rest of the world – say, Moulin Rouge or Chicago – it’s hailed as the return of the musical, but here, it’s never really gone away and it never really will. Our DNA is hardwired with the capacity to completely accept as natural an actor speaking one instant, bursting into song the next – and the history of our cinema is littered with examples of films that have succeeded simply because we saw one rocking number in the promos and paid an obscene amount of multiplex-money to watch it on the big screen. (Yes, Dus, I’m talking about you.)
And yet, the most high-profile musical of the season has crashed out with a discordant note. No one – not the critics, not the audiences – seems entirely happy with Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s latest stab at melding film and opera and theatre and performance art, and Saawariya is just the latest in a line of much-anticipated musicals that has been received with little enthusiasm: starting with last Diwali’s Jaan-e-Mann and moving on to Umrao Jaan and Salaam-e-Ishq and Jhoom Barabar Jhoom.
What’s common to these films – apart from the drubbing at the hands of critics and their destiny at the box office – is that each one is, in its own way, a musical, not just in the sense that it features songs and dances, but in that it tries to use these songs and dances to do something more, something interesting, something different. You could say that these films, in a sense, haven’t been directed so much as orchestrated – for their songs and dances often take the place of expository dialogue.
The music, in these films, isn’t just a part of the narrative. It is the narrative – as in Salaam-e-Ishq, which uses two golden oldies to define the contours of an extra-marital relationship. (Aao huzoor tumko, that come-on from Kismat, comes on when the much-married Anil Kapoor is attracted to his dance instructor, while Babuji dheere chalna from Aar Paar plays soon after, as a caution against this attraction.) You could contrast this with something like the current smash Om Shanti Om, which features a superb soundtrack, but could just as easily have existed without these numbers – except, perhaps Dhoom tana, which is a spoof of Hindi film music videos down the ages. (It is, in other words, a song-and-dance tribute to song-and-dance cinema.)
The difference between a song-and-dance movie and a musical can be laid out on a hair’s breadth, but perhaps a music video from Saawariya can help explain this microscopic (or perhaps not) distinction. When Rani Mukerji and a group of extras burst into choreography in the Chhail chhabeela number, it does look like a song sequence from any other film featuring many anonymous dancers keeping step behind one lead actor – except that the extras in this case have been defined in terms of the stage-space they inhabit.
They don’t just appear for the sake of the song and disappear soon after, the way they would in just another song-and-dance movie. We may not know each one of them by name and by face – and in this aspect, they are as anonymous as the dancer-extras in any one of our films – but we know what they do and where they’re from, and even after the song’s end, when they no longer occupy centrestage, we know that they are lurking around in the corners of the screen. They are an integral part of an organically imagined musical universe.
And they are in service of a film that uses music in conceptual ways – like Umrao Jaan, where JP Dutta structured his song sequences as contrapuntal mirror-images to the happenings in Umrao’s life. When this courtesan performs for the first time before an audience, the number that plays out is Salaam – and these words are how she greets her patrons, how she introduces herself to her clientele. In Jaan-e-Mann, when Salman Khan recounts the events that led to his divorce, the room darkens, as if getting ready for a show. And as his flashback unfolds, it is a show that follows – with roving spotlights, billowing red curtains and moving sets.
And in Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, that other meta-musical, a courtroom sequence with a lawyer arguing for the plaintiff morphs very suddenly into the glitzy, high-octane Kiss of love number. There’s no pretence about this song situation building from where the previous scene left off and tapering into where the next scene begins, nor is there an attempt to ground this sequence in a recognisable reality. It’s the Bollywood format taken to its most logical end: surrealism.
It’s not as if the director Shaad Ali dreamed up such a situation for the very first time in the history of Indian cinema. His Kiss of love essentially does what Aaj phir jeene ki tamanna hai did in one of our most popular musicals, Guide (yes, musical, not just song-and-dance film): it takes a moment of revelation and highlights it by hanging a musical number on it, by letting us bask in and fully absorb the import of the situation. The song in Jhoom appears just after Bobby Deol confesses to Preity Zinta that he’s attracted to her, but considering the nature of their professional relationship, they’d better stay away from… well, the kiss of love. And the song in Guide is, of course, a reaffirmation that Waheeda Rehman has broken free from her stuffy marriage.
But where Guide differs from Jhoom is in having a strong story, with strong characters. There’s nothing surrealistic in Guide – other than, of course, the fact that this woman who so far sounded like Waheeda Rehman has suddenly taken to singing in Lata Mangeshkar’s voice with the full backing of SD Burman’s orchestra – and that may perhaps be why even those who don’t care for musicals could find something to invest in. Jhoom, on the other hand, is such a hip, snarky lark that it doesn’t even pretend to tell a story, so if you’re not going to focus on how London-snob Preity Zinta’s reversal of stance on marrying a “brownie‿ is reflected in her musical reverie of interior-India in the Dhaage tod laao song sequence – where her love interest Abhishek Bachchan isn’t just a “brownie,‿ he’s also a coolie – there’s not much else in the film to hold on to.
Could that be why Jhoom Barabar Jhoom didn’t work, because the constant barrage of item numbers – the present-day incarnations of the ostrich-feather cabaret items of the past – has whittled away our capacity to see songs serving any other function? Have we evolved (or devolved, depending on how you see it) to a point where we only care about song-and-dance films, and not musicals? Do we – today – want songs and dances to be just a pleasant diversion, where we enjoy the clothes and the choreography and the good-looking performers and nothing else? Is that why so many films of the fifties and the sixties readily classify themselves as musicals, while most of what we get these days are simply song-and-dance films?
The point isn’t that Jhoom – or for that matter Saawariya or Jaan-e-Mann or Salaam-e-Ishq – is some sort of unheralded masterpiece, unfairly neglected by a paying public that has made hits of far lesser films. Each one of these has its own set of problems – but when so many other films-with-flaws get away with success, why not these? And if someone got down to it and made a really good musical tomorrow – oh, for argument’s sake, let’s just say someone made another Guide or Navrang (with its high-concept premise of a poet who reimagines his prosaic wife as a passionate muse, thus allowing his life to mutate into one long, uninterrupted musical) – would we go and watch it?
And what does this say about modern audience tastes (not in a churlishly judgmental how-could-they-not-like-these-films way, but more along the lines of whether we still have the patience and the interest to sit through all-musical conceptions, where the lyrics are as important as the lines of dialogue, the sung inseparable from the spoken)? At least in the case of Saawariya, you can see why it hasn’t caught on. For one thing, it’s a gloomy vision of romance, and perhaps not many wanted to celebrate a Diwali weekend with a film that (literally) has no sunshine. But Jhoom and Salaam-e-Ishq had big stars. They had catchy music and flashy production numbers, and these alone have been reasons for other films to make it. So what happened here? Why the hostility in the reception, where people didn’t merely point out that these films weren’t worth watching, but took almost perverse pleasure in tearing them down?
Of course, all these arguments crash down before Devdas, a musical that truly succeeded. To see why this isn’t just another song-and-dance movie, you only have to recall the point where the stage is set for Paro’s mother’s thundering humiliation, and afterwards, the actual thundering humiliation happens. But in between this bookending, the director (Bhansali again) takes a breather and shows us Paro and Devdas simply, quietly being in love. It’s romance as well as respite, and this effect could just as easily have been achieved by a scene of dialogue – but Bhansali gave us the More piya song sequence instead.
Perhaps it was just seeing how ethereal Aishwarya Rai seemed that made us drop our defenses. Or maybe it’s quite simply the fact that Devdas starred Shah Rukh Khan, who, at this golden stage of his career, can clearly make any subject work – even a film on women’s hockey. Maybe that’s why he’s the true superstar of our age – not just because of the mega-blockbuster-in-the-making that is Om Shanti Om (which has handily trounced Saawariya), but because, in his hands, even a musical becomes a box-office smash.
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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I like films like Anda naal,Kadamai ganiyam katupadu,Pesum padam,Kuruthipunal,etc to musicals..bt if there is a film liie Thevar magan or Iruvar with so many lovely songs..hw can v refuse it?
Guide - a musical? That’s the first time anyone made that charge against it. Next thing I know you WILL tell me Bandini, Lagaan, Masoom, Mr. India et al, all are musicals.
Saawariya fails big time when the end credits roll up starting with”A Sanjay leela bhansali film”, when people are tied firm to their seats either mezmerised or still unsatiated and waiting fro more drama.I could sense this starting with me and later feeling the same from everyone in the auditorium.
Tamil leh musicals na enakku nu satt nu nyabaham varrathu Niniathalaeinikkum and of late Azhahai irukkiraai bayamaai irukkirathu…
“India et al, all are musicals. “-yes,G..so lets use that word for convenience sake..
Rangan, this movie is where we have to part ways
* sigh
I liked the movie saawariya. The whole fefct of it. I thought it was dreamy, whimsical, romantic, not-tearjerking, and overall done well. It reminded me of a cross between a disney princess movie [her costumes did it for me] and Ranbir did a fine job. Songs were taken artistically, love the Jab tere naiana - and not for his little showing, but the aura of it..
moral of every bollywood story: shahrukh khan is king B-)
…this seems more of an assembly-line piece from Baradwaj. I am getting an handle now on your writing style, baradwaj. Hopefully, this is sort of backup in case my rather ordinary career in software collapses even further :-).
Especially, the beginning and the end. What do you mean Sharukh Khan - true superstar - there’s only one SUPERSTAR and you know who that is. Even if I am not a fan of him.
This is SO written for bollywood fan audience - there is even some formulaic tiredness in this piece.
No, there cannot be such a thing as Indian genome. And there is more than a 50% chance, depending on where it is sampled from, that it will not find things to like about Sachin or Shahrukh. You know that, ofcourse. But then, you have a deadline to meet…I dont!
..and I cant see Guide as a musical, either. Guide is as much a musical as Main Hoon na is a spoof.But Guide is ofcourse an excellent movie, which MHN cannot claim to be.
Hi BR,
I guess, SLB is jinxed with his musical movies.Khamoshi which had a tag line ‘the musical’ too bombed inspite of a huge star cast and some of the best songs ever.
But I do agree that we had witnessed movies like Partner or Dhamaal becoming a huge hit, and better movies like Saawariya or Jaane-e-man or even Salaam-e-ishq turining out to be disasters.
Btw, whats your take on the V.Shantaram award for Shah Rukh?Do you personally think he deserved it?Didnt we have a Akshaye Khanna performing a Harilal or Abhishek doing a Gurukant?And y only bollywood, we had much better performances from the South too.Jeeva in Tamizh MA or Mammooty in Ore Kadal? I know this has no relevance here in this topic.But I wanted to hear an opinion from a person of your stature.
Thanks in advance.
1. Were you so impressed by Saawariya, that it’s failure triggered an eloborate analysis into the indian DNA itself?
2. If you had looked properly into the DNA, it would have said a complete NO-NO to the western musical which seemed involve surrealism always and our DNA rejects that element outright. These western techniques will always appear bizarre to us.
I haven’t seen Jaan-e-mann, but I don’t understand the current trend of hindi film directors to thrust western musical as if that form of the musical is the only form sensible and ours aren’t!
3. And also, i don’t feel the musicals that you have clubbed together did not work coz they were musicals but for different reasons.(JBJ - did not allow me to connect to the lead pair post-interval, you claim that is the intention, but that is a big box-office abyss to step into, across continents).
4. On a side note, I read an aamir khan interview, where he said that movie has to be directed in a certain way dictated by the subject…
And I was instantly reminded of your arguemnt once that only a director’s vision dictates the treatment. I am convinced of your arguement, but just wanted to thank you for opening our minds that way.
rajfan: Ah, Kadamai ganiyam katupadu”… It’s a while since I heard that name. Is this the first instance of a big star (Kamal) producing a film that starred not himself but another big star (Sathyaraj; he was popular then)?
G: Masoom and Mr. India? hell, no!
naren: That would be a good exercise, to draw up a list of musicals in Tamil cinema.
rads: “Overall done well” is what I thought of the film too. I don’t think we’re parting ways here at all
Priti: Well… Don’t say that too loudly, or raj may sneak up from behind and clobber you
raj: “This is SO written for bollywood fan audience…” I would think it’s written FROM a Bollywood perspective, and FOR a Hindi film audience. So the “superstar” use was more generic, not not a title — as in “Super Star”. BTW, if this piece reeks of assembly-line writing, it’s not because of the deadline. I had four days for this, which in journalism-time is about four years
vimal: There are awards to be given, and so someone has to be chosen to give them to. “Deserving” has rarely got anything to do with this process. I wouldn’t put too much stock in awards — even, say, National Awards for Best Critic
S: The trigger wasn’t the failure of the film so much as the gun on my temple from my editor, who wanted something about Saawariya
And I thought this — the film’s format — would be an interesting angle to explore. About “the western musical which seemed involve surrealism,” that’s not always the case. See Fiddler on the Roof, for instance, where the songs are hardly sung in elaborate settings/stages. They reflect the mood of the moment, i.e. what’s to be said is *sung* instead, which is why I look at Guide as a musical. A “musical” isn’t just about glitz, which was one of the points of this piece — and my contention is that it’s different from a mere “song-and-dance” movie, where the songs and dances aren’t really tied to the material. And of course you’re right about “musicals that you have clubbed together did not work coz they were musicals but for different reasons,” hence my point that “each one of these has its own set of problems…” Yeah, I read that Aamir interview too, and was quite surprised by this point he made. Even more baffling is his very “literal” objection to Black because it uses Rani’s voiceover when in the film she cannot speak. Er, ever heard of *thoughts*, Mr. Khan?
Even more baffling is his very “literal” objection to Black
Link please?
And that has to be the dumbest objection to voiceovers yet. I have always thought that screenplay writers and we in the audience think of it as the audience reading aloud a diary maintained by the protagonist.
oh gawd! was that outburst triggered by my arbit comment? *shudders*
i have not read the said interview, but i think aamir makes a valid point there - a person who is born deaf, dumb and blind cannot have ‘thoughts’ in the typical way you and i do - they’d struggle to articulate their feelings.
while its tough for a director to convey the emotions of this stifled character to a semi-literate audience otherwise, voiceover seems to be a copout.
Hi Brangan:
I think you are SO RIGHT about this being an “INDIAN GENOME” - Sorry Raj, though just like you I admire the ONE & ONLY MASTER OF ALL (and usually his FANS agree almost on all things!!) - I don’t agree with you here!
This is the main reason we don’t have any “genre” in our movies - I think.
BTW, Surprised that Saawariya resembled so much of the tamil movie “Iyarkai” by Director Jananathan - which came 3 years ago and won a national award too!! I think the tamil movie was FAR BETTER and MORE SATISFYING - though made on a shoestring budget!!
“Even more baffling is his very “literal” objection to Black because it uses Rani’s voiceover when in the film she cannot speak. Er, ever heard of *thoughts*, Mr. Khan”
Oh! Vairamuthu sure would have wished he had thought of this, when someone objected to his writing “Ovvoru thuliyilum un mugam therigiradhu” for a man who does not possess the visual faculty
Baradwaj, The point on FOTR. Thats the whole point, isnt it - even though they didnt have elaborate sets or glitz, the characters bursting out into songs to express their thoughts(and I am not an expert on this but I thought that was a wonderful score by John Williams, wasnt it? Or, was it that John just adapted the music score from the stage version?). I dont think Aaj Phir jeene ki tamanna was in that sense. Wasnt it kind of a montage song, rather than Waheeda Rehman breaking out into Aaj Phir Jeene Ki Tamanna hia in the middle of the road?
Yes, we had the staged songs - but thats BECAUSE she was a performer in the movie, wasnt she? It wasnt really like a Jewish farmer breaking out into a song to say that he wanted to be a rich man while clearing the dung in his stables, was it?
Thats what I meant when I said I didnt think of Guide as a musical. Songs were used just like in any other *sensible* indian movie.
APALA, I dont even understand what you are saying. Who is the ONE AND ONLY MASTER OF ALL - who the hell is that? I dont think of anyone in those terms - well, maybe Ilaiyaraja but thats not relevant to this discussion.
BTW, I’d imagine the Bollywood types would have migrated to Dhoni by now. Sachin is no longer ‘HOT’ in the bollywood sense. Its cool to be seen with Dhoni rather than Sachin these days.
And baradwaj, sorry to say this but you had 4 days and you came up with this?
Either you must have lost some of your writing touch or you are just taking your audience for granted - this is full of formulaic writing.
Or, do you think that the target audience for this article deserves no more than this? Quite possible, in my opinion - make a gratuitious reference to the so-called badhsah khan, throw in a few ginger pieces of random comparison to a revered classic, mix together with the trademark Baradwaj Rangan writing masala - there’s a fast-food article for consumption by superficial types.
Hey! I dont know, this article seems to have touched a jangling nerve - its not even the content;it’s the writing, something is wrong. And as a loyal fan of your writing, I think I owe it to you to express my concern.
brangan: Raj is right. This write-up is a mutant…it’s not at all part of the Baradwaj Rangan DNA. When I originally read this piece, I found myself drowning in unstructured thoughts, random references to “ethereal Rai,” King Khan, without any story tie ins. I was left gasping for oxygen: “theme,” “central point,” “takeaway.” No oxygen, no spontaneous combustion. And I don’t think it takes a chemical engineer to figure that out, buy hey, you are one. Point is, if I had a microscope, I’d have stuck this piece under it to analyze if it indeed came from your DNA or is some mutant served up by the server-side ghost (yeah, the same one that gave us the two G’s in the Sanjay Subrahmanyam and Eric Truffaz posts).
I’d chalked up my original disdain to coming to these pages after a week’s break and finding annoying Google ads. That got me seriously bent out of shape (not to mention closed quotes now showing up as two boxes thru these pages). So I simply assumed I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to “appreciate” this piece. I gave it the benefit of the doubt. I came back to it again, purged of negativity, my mind a blank slate, and STILL hated it — this piece didn’t speak to me at all, and that’s rare given that the body of your work has generally worked for me. Surely something happened subconsciously? Maybe an onset of boredom thru a 4-day doodling session over a piece that you never had your sights set on in the first place, but was simply “assigned”? (Like that arranged marriage first night obligation you talk about in “Just Married” — I can almost empathize if you said you stood before the mirror, taking deep breaths…thinking: “And now I’m supposed to do this with this piece?” The classic metaphor for the writing life!)
Just this once, I think you may have inadvertently suspended your conviction so poignantly stated before: “The way I see it, being a critic is a subset of being a writer, for the important thing is to not just to dump on page your thoughts … but to try to form a “story” around them - so that even someone not interested in the film[s] would want to read the piece. (Of course, with time constraints and all, this is not always possible, but this is the ideal.)”
You’d have redeemed yourself, courtesy your statement in paranthesis above, but admittedly, time wasn’t a constaint on this one. Raj already echoes collective loyal-fan thoughts on this one: “I dont know, this article seems to have touched a jangling nerve - it’s not even the content; it’s the writing, something is wrong.” Enough said.
I am still partly confused as to a difference between a musical and a regular movie with song-and-dances after reading your article.
If the songs having a purpose makes a movie a Musical, then is Sindhubhairavi(for the most part) qualified to be a musical? Most songs there had a purpose. If so, then it was a resounding success at the box office.
Virumandi could be argued to be a Musical as well. Most songs had a purpose and there were quite a few songs in it.
Mani rathnam argues that songs in his movies takes the story forward and hence he is’nt ashamed of using them. He also claims that he doesnt have songs just for the purpose of having them. So does that make his movies musicals too?
I havent seen some of these recent Hindi films to answer whether they qualify as musicals or why they did’nt succeed. But Guide doesnt strike me as anything different from other song-and-dance films with storylines. Songs were situational sure and fit the storlyline well, but that can be said about many other films as well.
I believe as far as desi films are concerned the distinction between musicals and films with lots of typical song-and-dances(like Sooraj Barjatya’s) are so blurred that I dont think the difference, even if it is palpable, hardly matters(unless you can provide a more specific definition of what a Musical is). In fact,our mainstream films are all being lumped together and referred to as Musicals by the West.
Saawariya might have flopped not because that it was a “Musical” but because the movie (from whatever reviews I have read) was just emotionless and distant. Our audiences expect some soul in Romance. That seems to be the popular complaint about Saawariya.
I’m not sure if the current audience has the patience or not to appreciate musicals, but I do notice one thing. When somebody watches a movie at home on DVD, invariably, the songs get forwarded. Similarly when you are watching the same in a theatre, more than half the people there are itching to do the same, with no respite. The other half are probably utilising the “mini-break” for a quick smoke. However, when the same songs are shown on TV (as part of a countdown show or otherwise), most watch it in rapt attention. Make me wonder if songs should go the way of music videos and be used only for movie promotional purposes!!
Raj, you all keep praising the guy every day. Brangan makes one bad paper a year and you start shouting ?! Give him a break !!
And Brangan… nice to see you are human
G: Hope thuis link works (or else search the Mumbai Mirror site) - http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?Page=article§id=47&contentid=2007112620071126233559468ae880b68
joe tmp: “they’d struggle to articulate their feelings” The way we do, yes, but what if it’s not just their “thoughts” we’re hearing, almost like a cinematic representation of telepathy? If we don’t having a problem with voiceovers telling us what someone “feels” or “imagines” (and may not articulate to anyone else on screen), why should this particular instance be a problem? It’s just a narrative device.
APALA: That’s an interesting point you make about genre in our movies. Care to elaborate?
Anonymous: Touche man, touche!
Gulzar too came under similar flak — from literalists who objected to “Hume dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehekti khusbhoo”. They claimed that he was crossing the optical and olfactory senses 
Baradwaj: respectfully disagree with those who say this is a comedown from your usual standards (though that’s partly because I know from experience that writing this kind of piece requires a different sort of rigour from writing an indepth review that focuses on one film alone). The central point about many old-time Hindi film viewers failing to come to terms with a different type of musical and making superficial demands for a “proper story” (as if that’s ever been the key factor in mainstream Hindi cinema anyway) is one that I’ve discussed numerous times recently with friends and family (ref. the often vehement critical reception given to films like JBJ and Jaan-e-Mann) and you’ve made that point very eloquently here.
But yes, I’m not quite sure about whether Guide can be called a musical (as opposed to a song-and-dance movie).
raj/sagarika/vijay: Of course Aaj Phir jeene ki tamanna was in that sense; she is “bursting out into songs to express their thoughts”, as is dev anand in “din dhal jaaye” (and as are both of them in kya se kya/mohse chhal). The lyrics are all internal (or external) monologues, expressed in beautiful verse. And yes, as in any other *sensible* Indian movie, the songs were used well — and I was trying to say (badly, by the looks of the reactions, though I don’t yet have enough distance from the piece to see where — and if — it went wrong) that these function as musicals in an Indian context, as opposed to films where the songs don’t serve a purpose. What Aaj phir does in Guide is provide a state-of-mind snapshot of Rosie, and that is a “purpose.” It’s not just a montage. And especially in Mohse chhal/kya se kya, they’re talking to each other (not the audience) through song. But that’s not what you see in movies these days (mostly). This piece wasn’t about “musicals” in the Broadway sense, but in the sense of a film with music integrated well into itself such that the film becomes richer because of its songs. I guess this “hair’s breadth differece” (as I stated in the piece) didn’t come across as I intended.
Shankar: You’re quite right. I’ve seen people get really restless during song sequences, even if they are situational and used well. It’s like a knee-jerk reaction to a song sequence that isn’t glitzy or energetically choreographed.
oops: “nice to see you are human” thanks. underneath my metallic-robot exterior, I’m practically short-circuiting with pleasure
Jabberwock: Thanks. I guess I could have helped things by further explaining the criteria for labelling a film a musical (though I thought I did just that with the example of the number from Saawariya; but maybe an example from something like Guide could have brought out my POV better).
I realize that ALL the comments are pulling in different directions, so thanks for juggling thru and digging up the link.
Back to main point, exactly WHY is Mr. India not a musical? In what way are “Karte hain pyar Mr India Se”, “I Love you”, “Hawa Hawaii” et al separate from the narrative flow of the film?
brangan: Oops has set off some serious self-introspecion by “And Brangan… nice to see you are human.”:-)
I guess I must be Pavlov’s dog. I arrive at this site with drool already in my mouth, before I’ve read a word. If, by the time I have read the last word, there’s no drool deluge, I’m dreadfully disappointed. I bark. Chalk that up to conditioned response.
>>”underneath my metallic-robot exterior, I’m practically short-circuiting with pleasure.”
Now there you go, metaphor (hu)man!
JW, its not as if Baradwaj hasnt written this kind of article before. I think you are subtly hinting that we are comparing apples(articles like this) with oranges(his reviews). My friend, you may be intelligent, but dont under-estimate ours, okay? I have read so many of his non-reviews- including the recent Sex and Cinema - that hit a perfect riff, produce excellent examples of his line of thought, articulate it better. Hey! we may not have a blog, but we know a thing or two about writing, sir!
Baradwaj, lest it is mis-interpreted, I must admit that yeah, its not as if you owe to maintain lofty writing standards always. There is definitely a tiredness in this piece - and like someone else pointed out, we go ga-ga when you produce one of your usual master-pieces and so will we say it as it is when we feel that you dont match up to your own exalted standards. I mean, JW may harp about how he knows everything about this type of writing and how that entitles him to loftily proclaim that everything is fine only these buggers who don’t know anything about writing this sort of piece are commenting ignorantly etc. but the truth is he isnt half the writer you are - so while this kind of piece may be decent writing for him, comign from you, it is not. Now, what do you do with this comment? Do I care?
In a way, this validates our previous admiration for your writing. See, we aren’t smitten, blind fans going ga-ga ignorantly
Hey, Baradwaj, what you need are more FEMALE groupies.
Raj: no question of under-estimating your intelligence - in fact I’m not even sure it can be done
But thanks for your version of what I apparently wrote in my comment. Very entertaining to see “respectful disagreement” (do carefully consider what both words mean) turned into “JW may harp about how he knows everything about this type of writing…”) Did you graduate in Chinese Whispers btw?
G: Wow. Interesting suggestion. Makes me curious to find out how on earth would (or could) Baradwaj be able to take a gender roll-call on this site even if he wanted to?
I mean it’s a given that we generally have a testosterone-heavy attendance. But for argument’s sake, let’s consider this person G. Maybe you, maybe that “other” G. Let’s presume that G has an alphnumeric email id so even brangan can’t do gender guess-work. Now if this G continues to post gender-neutral comments (e.g. the one I just posted on Dhan Dhan Dhan Goal, which, if the prefix did not read “Sagarika Says” might very well be from a Santosh) how would folks (except the ones who really cared to track this G thru several posts to know “he” let it slip somewhere that “his wife” has 6 years of Mridangam-bashing behind her; that “he” immensely enjoyed a certain art-work at the Belur Chennakeshawa Temple; etc) find out if G is male/female? To mystify things further, we have multiple G’s who sound just a tad different in tone. Giri or Gowri? 
It can be tough. It took me until the Saawariya post and an obvious “Ranbir ha[s] a great body, a pretty little back” to figure out oops was a woman. No particular reason but for a long time I thought APALA was female and S was male (until stumbling upon a revelation similar to some of the aforementioned). For all you know, Sagarika could in reality be Santosh under cover. And what’s to say Raj is not Raji, in real life? Provided either has proper, name-identified email ids, then brangan’s the only one who’s privy to the otherwise classified gender info (assuming the said duo continue to play along posting gender-neutral comments). See, the possibilities are limitless. And for all you know, there may already be “more FEMALE groupies.”
Silly arguments aside, your suggestion makes me wonder now (although I didn’t think of it twice then) if brangan would have responded this way had oops not been pre-identified as being female. But to me, “underneath my metallic-robot exterior, I’m practically short-circuiting with pleasure” seems to be a pretty innocuous thing to say unless one chooses to look for “you titillated me”-type perverse undertones. To a writer, male or female, it’s just a wonderful metaphor that aptly expresses heartfelt gratitude (almost bordering on thrill) for actually being acknowledged as a living breathing human despite professionally being forced to function as an automaton, often churning out thousands of words each day. Plus it’s pretty clever wordplay plain and simple. But hey, I can totally see a guy’s take on this statement, noticing its harmless if evident flirtatious undercurrent that colors every healthy male-female interaction in the civilized world. Wrong? Hell no!
Btw, are you the G whose wife thinks Kadri’s cool? The same G who drives me nuts by italicising the quotes in his comments (I’ve often wondered how to do that within the text-only comments box, and dang! you do it oh-so-easily)? Sorry, I almost got you right after No Smoking but then you switched tracks again on Eric Truffaz.
Am adding Aaja Nachle to your list of musicals, Baradwaj. The film is nothing but a tailor made script for Madhuri Dixit who might have been contemplating a comeback in Bollywood for long. And, lo the script was written and here she is. Am not complaining, because I enjoyed every bit of the musical (read: movie). A dancer who grows out of her place comes back to revive the theatre where she learnt dance. This is not just another song and dance Bollywood flick. When Madhuri is planning her elopement we see her dance on a song, lyrics of which says, “le chal mujhe apne mulk”. Her lover is an American. And when her disheartened Indian lover is mourning, we hear “Jaane woh kaise log the jinke, pyar ko pyar mila”, in the background.
The lyrics of the title track (which Madhuri performs to mark her comeback in the town), says, “mujhe deta duayen halwai re”. Her lover who is still mourning the dead relationship that was never there is a roadside restauranter.
I dont want to keep adding to the list. Am sure you will bring out more such instances in your review. But I reallly hope that this musical does well. For the film is not just about song and dance. Of course, there is a deliberate attempt in the narrative to keep the film strictly a musical movie keeping the Bollywood masala bit intact.
Sorry, could not help post this on your blog. I dont know if you are reading this after watching the movie or before. But am sure either ways, you already are hating me for this.
Second time comments from the same person on the same post as a policy are no-no. But..
But couldn’t resist this time.
1. But Mr.B, I just don’t understand the ‘musical’ tag for Indian cinema. To me the songs are there just like every other element in the film and whether they are used sensibly or not again, is just on more attribute. We are not averse to using songs as elements to enhance the movie.(stress a point more, convery more sensibly & so on…)
This is why it is kind of tough to understand the fuss.
2. Another thing I don’t understand is(not fully relevant to the post, but wanted to burning for sometime now), spoof and tribute - ofcourse, they are not interchangeable. Either I am growing old(is 20’s the new 60’s?) or just dumb, i was seriously happy when good old days when spoof was a ‘bollywood calling’ & a tribute was to someone who was really deserving.
With today’s trends of paying tribute to the inane song and dance routine and inane stories of Manmohan desai, by extrapolation. ppl will do a tribute to Himesh Reshmayya and Maniratnam tommorow, we will truly be living in a communist soceity.
How can make a spoof subtle and also call it a tribute and wonder why it is not working? I liked that film for its interesting narrative though.
A timely piece indeed - I was thinking along the same lines - WHY do these films fail? I mean, the glee with which the rather well-made JBJ was torn apart, when that explosion of vulgarity Heyy Baby became a hit nad even managed to garner a few good reviews. Ditto Saawariya, when OSo was such a blatant middle finger to honest filmaking and managed to succeed. Actually the point about surrealism - look at the fate of MaayaMemsaab and No Smoking at the hands of the reviewers and the public - is timely too. Saawariya, JBJ and Jaanemann all invoked that hollywood musical staple of broadway-style picturisation melded into the screenplay, and all flopped. Not saying the movies were perfect - only that these films tried to change the way a certain genre of films are made, and deserved credit for doing it pretty well.
Between Sagarika, Do i have to change the name sue just for this?
JW,
hello!hello!
Its nice to slip in a phrase “respectfully disagree”. But look at this:
“though that’s partly because I know from experience that writing this kind of piece requires a different sort of rigour from writing an indepth review that focuses on one film alone”
So, whats the implication here - “I know the mechancis of the writing of this piece - so, I am saying that this is fine”. So, to put it in other words, “..those who are saying that this article is a downgrade from your standards have no idea about the mechanics of writing such an article”.
Infact, that’s so patronising on Baradwaj
You must understand that to appreciate food, you need not be a cook. So, to say that ” “..yeah, these guys say your dish sucks, but I know a bit about cooking this type of dish, and I can say it doesnt”. It is obvious what you want to hint - these guys dont understand what this dish is about, they have no idea what is involved in cooking this, so yeah, their opinions dont count.
Well, you may think that clever but any sensible person would tell you that its just delusion.
“respectfully disagree” is just a courtesy phrase here.
Never mind, you are entitled to presumption of intelligence - we all have our delusions anyway - but to pretend that you didnt intend to say what you did say, thats disingenuous but I guess just another day in office for you.
So, now we are over-analysing every word that Baddy says!! Give the man a break!!
Just read and appreciate his reviews for the style and content he puts forth and continue having a splendid day…who cares if there are more female groupies or male groupies in this blog? Who also cares if any of the respondees are male or female?
To find hidden meaning in every sentence written by Baddy is probably up the alley of people who have a lot of time on their hands or who are mastering in Psycho-analysis!!
(People, this is just a joke and is not intended to offend anybody)
I’m not embarrassed but hum hum… i’m just… speechless…
???
Grin.
1. Sagarika, I admit I was addressing you indirectly with that comment but really the main target audience were the uptight gents disputing away.
2. One can’t “enjoy” that artwork in that way - but it does make one wonder about what one’s linear and cultural ancestors were thinking. More than anything else, the visit for me invoked a very strong sense of kinship with them. It was as if they were speaking to me across the centuries - “!$$$$$^***! Hum tumhare baap hain.”
3. I am willing to bet it never occured to bragan that oops might be a female. Notice how he scrub cleans his comments when he reacts to the clearly female Sagarika handle.
4. Yup. That’s me.
5. Do this
<i>to put stuff in italics</i>
P.S. I too had assumed that the “you are human” commenter(commentator?) was male.
G: OK, you redeem yourself with that last statement.
I had (mis)read a hint of MCPism in your original comment which is why I was trying to douse you with a truckload of sarcasm-packaged-as-humor.
Looks like it is I who must take Shankar’s advice and stop reading bet. the lines (not brangan’s but yours).
But I’ll ignore his psychoanalysis bit though coz I’ll admit it, I’m “subconsciously” a rabid psychoanalyzer. But can never major in the subject though, coz academic writing simply puts me off like nothing else does, esply the APA kind.
And geez, how could I have forgotten that a good ol’ html tag would do the trick? Thanks for the refresher.
p.s: If I remember correctly, isn’t brangan himself admittedly guilty of occasionally psychoanalyzing interviewees (see Gautam Menon write-up). The poor guy (Menon) got ripped for making a reference to Jackie Collins, c’mon give him a break!
And G, you just made me realize that when I’m not Pavlov’s dog, I’m…you guessed it…human!
Vivek: *sigh* Okay, very quickly:
The “respectfully disagree” was meant sincerely, it wasn’t intended as sarcasm or as a courtesy phrase. I genuinely liked this piece (had read it on the NSE website days before Baradwaj put it up on this blog btw, and I’d mailed him about it then) and the other “implications” that you’ve seen in my comment are the workings of your own imagination. My use of “though that’s partly…” should have indicated that I’m not holding myself up as a final authority on how Film Pieces Should be Written (the same way, incidentally, that Baradwaj never presents his views as the definitive word on a film. But maybe that kind of thinking is too subtle for you to grasp?).
G: A last last word from me
:
On your (2) above: But of course!
On your (3) above: What an eye-opening psychoanalytic moment for me.
It was right there in front of me all along and I never saw it. You are probably right! What with a moderator’s pressures on being “politically correct” and all that. Ah! the perils of the content (i write what i want with a devil-may-care fervor) vs. comments (tread carefully on eggshells lest on gets thrown on you) tightrope walk. 