TLC Awards (Achievements in Film, 2013)

The Lazy Critic Blog establishes two awards this year, celebrating the best and worst of Indian cinema. What the Finger Awards acknowledges the bullshit audiences have been forced to endure. The TLC Awards applauds the best cinematic work of 2013 and hopes for even better films this year.

Woody Allen Award for Casting

Because the man made a very interesting and relevant point when he wrote to the Academy on how Casting should be included as an Oscar category. TLC acknowledges the efforts of casting directors who painstakingly put together the most effective cast for our films. The first Woody Allen Award for Casting goes to –

Honey Trehan for Fukrey

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TLC Award for Best Choreography

Ganesh Acharya, Terence Lewis, Vishnu Deva and Sameer for Goliyon ki Ras Leela – Ram Leela

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TLC Award for Best Costume and Make up

Ameira Punvani for David

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TLC Award for Best Music

Amit Trivedi for Lootera

and

Sanjay Leela Bhansali for GKRL – Ram Leela

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TLC Award for Best Lyrics

Amitabh Bhattacharya for Lootera

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TLC Award for Best Screenplay

Bejoy Nambiar for David

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TLC Award for Best Dialogue

Kunal Khemu, Sita Menon, and Raja Sen for Go Goa Gone

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TLC Award for Best Cinematography

S. Ravi Varman for GKRL – Ram Leela

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TLC Award for Best Editing

Arindam Ghatak for Go Goa Gone

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And now, for the biggies…

TLC Award for Best Actor in a Supporting Role – Female

Richa Chaddha for Fukrey

TLC Award for Best Actor in a Supporting Role – Male

Pankaj Kapur for Matru ki Bijli ka Mandola

TLC Award for Best Actor in a Leading Role – Male

Neeraj Kabi for Ship of Theseus

and

Farhan Akhtar for Bhaag Milkha Bhaag

TLC Award for Best Actor in a Leading Role – Female

Deepika Padukone for GKRL – Ram Leela and Chennai Express

TLC Award for Best Director

Vikramaditya Motwane for Lootera

Special Mention: Dibakar Banerjee for Bombay Talkies

 TLC Award for Best Film

Lootera

and

 Shahid

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Special Performance Awards

Naman Jain for Bombay Talkies

Sidharth Nigam for Dhoom 3

Riya Vij for  Gippi

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New Music Talent

Arijit Singh

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Best Film of the Decade

Meghe Dhaka Tara

Directed by: Kamaleshwar Mukherjee

Language: Bengali

Photo courtesy: Google Images

A Disappointing, Confused, ‘Runny’ Mess!

Milkha Singh is by far India’s most respected and accomplished athlete. Nothing can diminish his glory. On the other hand, nothing makes his story cinema-worthy. And definitely not for three hours!

India does not seem to understand the meaning of a biopic. When you need to add fiction and comic relief to a man’s life, you must realize that the person’s life was not interesting enough for a film in the first place! The fact that you need to have sudden song sequences (I am shocked at how Bollywood-ish Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra has become) and absolutely stupid scenes in airplanes shows your lack of faith in your subject itself. Bhaag Milkha Bhaag is the story of a man who overcame hurdles and personal trauma to become a successful athlete. Now, where have I heard that story before?

The story begins with his loss at the Rome Olympics, flashes back to his journey through his army days, consequential training, affairs with women, failing at the Melbourne Olympics, training even harder (this is where you feast your eyes on the fabulous Farhan Akhtar body everyone has been talking about), and winning every possible race after that which leads to the Rome Olympics – which he loses, yet again.

Let us note that he did not win any Olympic title.

Moving on, the whole country – including PM Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru – keeps convincing him to go to Pakistan for a friendly race. Milkha is reluctant as he does not want to face the horrors of his past (which is what kept him away from winning the Rome gold, according to the film), but then he takes a trip down memory lane, and beats the Pakistanis – which becomes the climax of the film.

So, even after so many decades, the climax of a film still is India beating Pakistan at something. Not a man fighting the ghosts of his past. Not even him actually beating the world record (as claimed by the film. Contradictory data says otherwise. Quoting Wikipedia here – “Some sources say that he set a world record of 45.8 seconds in France, shortly before the Rome Olympics in the same year (1960) but the official report of the Games lists the record holder as Lou Jones, who ran 45.2 at Los Angeles in 1956) and making history with a new record speed. No. It all boils down to beating the Pakistanis. The sheer immaturity of the narrative curve of the film is shameful.

Areas where BMB goes wrong:

One – if you want me to believe that, that pudgy sardar kid became Farhan Akhtar in just T H I R T E E N years, I am not buying it. Farhan, however fantastic he looks in this film, does NOT look 25. And manipulating the beard is hardly a cheat code anymore to hide an actor’s age.

Two – How is it that the man who has been running for over five years suddenly has his traumatic past visiting him at the Rome Olympics? How is it that his past does not visit him every time he runs? How is it that even during his very first race, the prospect of milk triggers him more than his father screaming ‘bhaag Milkha bhaag’ seconds before having his head sliced off?

Three – The introduction of the love angles and interests were absolutely unnecessary. Sonam Kapoor has a total of five minutes screen space with just two-line dialogues. His firang girlfriend enjoys the same film span. He goes ahead and actually turns the third one down – thus reducing that horny swimmer’s screen time even more. The director himself proves that they were unnecessary characters.

Four – The director’s lack of good judgment when deciding what to make the climax of the film remains the most disappointing aspect of it. Everyone knows he lost the Rome Olympics. And the film states that upfront. There is almost a sense of ‘now what?’ half way into the film. You try to figure out what can be a bigger achievement than the Olympic gold. I cannot harp enough on how idiotic the climax is. Also throw in a couple of mean Pakistani athletes and coaches (as if being mean is a Pakistani prerogative) and absolutely juvenile Pakistani media. Very disappointing. And this is the man who made Dilli 6?

Five – (a) while on an airplane, Milkha Singh starts screaming that something is wrong because they are above the clouds and nothing can be seen. The co-pilot (ROM in a cameo) comes out – surprise surprise – to pacify him! (b) Australian chicks come over and ask the Indian team – where are you guys relaxing? Milkha Singh replies – No, main Milkha Singh. 400 metres. (c) A whole Shammi Kapoor-style song-and-dance routine in an Aussie pub with Milkha Singh dancing with aussies to rehearsed choreography. (d) Because a policeman roughs up a young Milkha who is carrying two cans of ghee home for his sister, Milkha drinks the ghee up and does push-ups amidst loud cheering from bystanders – who later carry him into the village on their shoulders! Do I need to go on about how LAME a huge chunk of the film is? And how much should have been actually edited?

Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s music is good, if not their best. While the editing is a huge letdown, the cinematography shows experiment and promise. I still have no idea why Sonam Kapoor agreed to do this film. Farhan fails to impress, other than his musculature, of course. Funnily, in a film where he plays the title role, you won’t remember one scene where his ‘acting’ shines. Divya Dutta is the only actor who shines through with a dedicated supporting performance rarely seen in Bollywood. Your heart goes out to her as she breathes such honesty and passion into her role. Look out for the scene where she reunites with her brother at the refugee camp. The rest of the cast supports well, even if they didn’t shine bright. Dalip Tahil cannot pull off a Nehru.

If this is what ROM has to offer after so many years, my disappointment knows no bounds.

Why ‘Feel Good’ is the Bollywood Mantra

 

The basic integral embryotic problem with Bollywood is that it always desires to maintain itself as the idealistic Miss Goody-Two Shoes. The films have to be glossy, shiny, and wonderful. The music has to be comfortable. Every hurdle has to be overcome, every obstacle shattered (either through superhuman will power or divine intervention), and everybody has to be divided into happy, laughing (or married) couples at the end of the films. Films have even gone to the extent of showing dogs and cats snuggling together – a testimony of how one couple’s love can encompass the whole universe. It happens only in Bollywood. If me falling in love would make India BFF with Pakistan, annihilate terrorism, and make China our gilli-danda playmates, I would have shrines and ‘jai mata di’ bumper stickers of Eros and Aphrodite in dozens.  But no, that is not how happiness and love works. While a man slides off the ghungat from his newly-wed wife’s head in one room, someone could be beating someone up in another. The realities of life are just too real. Every problem does not always come with a solution that makes the whole world happy. Therefore, films that deal with problems WITHOUT solutions are hilariously termed ‘parallel cinema’. It is ‘intellectual’ to deal with the honest realities of life; for every instance of mindlessness, there is the mainstream razzmatazz.

I am not arguing with the need for escapism. It is extremely essential for entertainment to, well, entertain. But the saturation of mindlessness needs to be broken. Even films that attempt daring storylines fall into the rut by the time the credits close in. Case in point: Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani and Fukrey.

YJHD talks about a group of four college friends who make an excursion at the crossroads of their lives, only to meet years again to re-think their priorities. A coming-of-age film about life, ambition, family, and friendship. For once, it was refreshing to see the lead man give his ambition more importance and try to do something for himself. Even the dissonance his friendships suffer is very natural. It could have simply been a heart breaking story of a man who chooses his career above everything else, tries to find happiness in it, and suffers the pangs of loneliness. Also, why a hormonal Indian boy cannot find himself a girlfriend in Europe and America is a shocking surprise. Why he has to become a sort of nomadic recluse is a further point of confusion. Why he is averse to ‘love’ and only likes having sex with random women in random streets is equally surprising. AND, if he is averse to ‘love’, why is it that he falls in ‘love’ very conveniently with our heroine and NOBODY ELSE in so many years of travelling the world? So, love HAS to be at home? A sort of overriding prejudice that desi is the best option and whoever marries a firang has treaded the path of Satan? Confusing.

Hormonal boy (rich, successful, travels the world, has a hotshot job), not in love with an Indian girl = BAD. Not Bollywood-hero material.

Hormonal boy (becomes a one-woman man) gives everything up to fall in ‘love’ with Indian girl = GOOD. 100 crore club material.

Why can a rich, successful man who travels the world with a film maker’s job and enjoys the companionship of different partners NOT be a good thing? Why does the ‘right’ description of a hero, even today, has to be that of a married-man-with-a-job-and-dreams-for-two?

And, why does the geeky heroine always bloom into the sizzling girl of his dreams? Is it absolutely not possible for people to fall in love with a woman who wears glasses? Does she have to lose weight, get hair extensions, and wear navel-bearing outfits to find the right man? Do beautiful people ALWAYS HAVE TO couple themselves with beautiful people? And the supporting cast has to settle with the average looking dunces who will not distract us from staring at the beautiful people. And if, by mistake (or casting couch; or a big brother for a producer) the supporting actor is more handsome than the lead, character ‘flaws’ are heightened. He is made a failure with stubble and an alcoholic drawl (he even pulls that off with aplomb. Kudos, Aditya Roy Kapur)

YJHD is a Jab We Met meets Cocktail via Purab aur Paschim. And while it is a fine one-time watch, we must realize that ‘one-time watch’ is not a compliment. Most of the songs are unnecessary, and hardly any stay with you. With the same gimmicks, old jokes, and Manish Malhotra clothes, this film will be soon forgotten.

Aditya Roy Kapur is star material; he just needs to choose the right films to land up in the A-team. Kalki and Kunal are much too talented to be in such films. Deepika should go back to modeling. It is not that she cannot act. I am just tired of waiting for her to play anything but Deepika Padukone.

Ranbir did not need this film in his CV. Especially after a Barfi. You disappoint us.

Fukrey had the promise to become a sadistic cat-and-mouse chase of a film. A sort of dark comedy based in the bylanes of Delhi about four young boys trying to raise enough money to fund their bribes for college admissions and daddy’s surgeries. Throw in a femme fatale of a mafia don, her African henchmen, and a crassy Haryanvi policeman, and you have struck gold. Peppy music, brilliant actors, crisp dialogues, and some delicious moments could have made this memorable film.

But, it has a happy ending. Everything falls into place. Not one problem exists. Even heartbreak is miraculously bandaged. Every failure becomes jackpot-ringing success. The Fukrey do not remain fukrey anymore. What Fukrey hopelessly lacks is anger and frustration. Four jobless loafers have to raise 25 lakh to save themselves from the claws of a reckless Godmother – and not for once is there any urgency. You are never at the edge of your seat. Not once, are you forced to worry about whether they will be able to raise the money or not. ‘Or not’ does not exist. It is a Bollywood mainstream film. The crazy iron-pumping Godmother will not chop their balls or shoot through their arse. We are allowed to comfortably assume that they will raise the money eventually.

The ‘eventually’ is always a happy ending.

Pulkit Samrat and Varun Sharma should take a bow. They might just be the future hotshots of the industry if they choose their films responsibly. Manjot Singh is finding it tough to play anything but a sardarji. Ali Fazal is much more talented than what we see in the film. Take it from someone who has seen all his plays. Richa Chadda is an absolute delight. Pankaj Tripathi is a star in his own right.

Eventually, these are two films that had the promise of becoming something much bigger and better than what they turned out to be.