Funnily Deep

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That's what last night's Filmfare awards telecast on Sony was. It was also of course glamorous, sexy and entertaining. But that's the least you expect. What you don't expect is for humour to be delivered with so much élan that it permeates everybody, putting them in touch with their liberal, tolerant selves. Between Saif Ali Khan and Shah Rukh Khan, the hosts for the evening and two of the most sophisticated stars in the film industry, nothing remained sacred. So there was a blue ballad to Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Saawariya; Saif Ali Khan was ribbed about his tattoo screaming his new love for Kareena; Karan Johar acknowledged that women were safe from him; To turning off the music and challenging Akshay Kumar to live up to his new hit machine status in real life; To some provocative Hinglish that left no one in....

60 years old or 60 years young

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There was a TV commercial that played out a lot on Doordarshan. Late eighties I think. A trim, genial, 'old' man chivalrously gives his spot in the elevator to a woman. He takes the stairs instead, compelling, a younger man to follow suit. The 'older' man makes it effortlessly. The younger one is left behind panting. Admiring FVO: 'Saanth saal ke buddhe ya saanth saal ke jawaan?' Roughly speaking '60 years old or 60 years young?' The commercial was for Zandu Pharma's Kesari Jeevan. The August celebrations of India's 60 are about winding down and if you were to ask marketers - '60 years old or 60 years young?' the answer would be an unequivocal '60 years young!' That's because like the world, we are fixated on the 365 million strong 18 to 35 year olds - our future consumers and target audience. On the verge of starting....

When a man loves a woman

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It shows. There's a photo that we can't show here for reasons of copyright but you can definitely see it elsewhere on the world wide web (click here to see it). Taken by the legendary Henri Cartier Bresson, this photograph of Mountbatten, Nehru and Edwina - a personal favourite - has been all over of late. It has been pulled out to accompany reports on Pamela Mountbatten's (Mountbattens' daughter) just published book India Remembered: A Personal Account of the Mountbattens During The Transfer of Power. Who cares whether Nehru and Edwina's love was platonic or otherwise. How does it really matter to anyone beyond these three people frozen in time. What matters is when you see a man wear just the expression Nehru's wearing - the jester, desperate to catch the woman's eye, trying to impress her, waiting for validation - you will....

Life after Sivaji

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Sivaji was out of my system after the response I had for all of you collectively. But I had underestimated like I seem to be doing consistently, the power of both Rajnikanth and the internet. There is one consistent argument that many of you have put forward - and that is, that a personal opinion or blog needs to be posted on a totally personal blog site. I have mixed feelings on this one and so am bowing down to the feedback. From now anyone who wants to know what I think about anything can go to Anuradha SenGupta's blog. Let me warn you it may not be worth your while and my posts can be quite erratic. I write only when I am really moved to. I am going to be gracious and let you have the last word. If....

Thank you Sivaji

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Thank you Sivaji. Wow! You helped me discover the joys of blogging. Overwhelming the sheer number and minute details in all the comments reacting to my previous post - Sivaji. The Boss. Of Crap. I have waded through, at last count almost all the nine hundred and sixty-five comments, when actually I should have been working. But what to do, its addictive! Since its impossible to get back one on one, I am hoping this works for you, collectively. 1. The blog was not a FILM REVIEW it was a PERSONAL OPINION. For those who don't know, a FILM REVIEW is a CRITIC's INFORMED (hopefully) opinion that helps you decide whether or not you should watch a film. I am pretty sure I didn't ask you to be either a pig or a lion. My post was existential angst in response to current socio-cultural-political events, which is what....

Thank you Sivaji

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Thank you Sivaji. Wow! You helped me discover the joys of blogging. Overwhelming the sheer number and minute details in all the comments reacting to my previous post - Sivaji. The Boss. Of Crap. I have waded through, at last count almost all the nine hundred and sixty-five comments, when actually I should have been working. But what to do, its addictive! Since its impossible to get back one on one, I am hoping this works for you, collectively. 1. The blog was not a FILM REVIEW it was a PERSONAL OPINION. For those who don't know, a FILM REVIEW is a CRITIC's INFORMED (hopefully) opinion that helps you decide whether or not you should watch a film. I am pretty sure I didn't ask you to be either a pig or a lion. My post was existential angst in response to current socio-cultural-political events, which is what....

Sivaji, The Boss. Of Crap

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'Pigs go in herds, the lion walks alone' That's a rough and ready translation of something Rajnikanth spouts in and as Sivaji. He says it mid-way through the film, I squirm in my seat. My membership of the porcine club was signed and sealed Thursday night. I drove after work on a rainy, slushy day to catch a late night screening of the biggest film to come out of Chennai in three years - Sivaji, The Boss. No more proof was needed. I was part of the herd. I had squelched my sensibilities, curbed my natural inclinations, disinclinations rather, and had caved in to peer pressure. How could I not go. Everyone was going and conversations for some time to come would be referenced to Sivaji. I could be in or out. I chose to be safe rather than sorry. Discretion is the better part....

Why Anuradha and Anupama are better than Anand

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It's hard to pick a favourite Hrishikesh Mukherjee film. From rib tickling carefree Wodehousian takes on middleclass life and morality to deeply moving, unusually sensitive relationship dramas, to use a cliché, in Mukherjee's body of films there's something for everybody, or rather a film for every mood. One of his films in particular, Anuradha did more than just entertain. It gave me an attitude. I saw the film first as a kid when Doordarshan was the only TV of choice. What struck me then was the gentle, ethereal and most unlike any Hindi film star, heroine I had ever seen. It was Leela Naidu in and as Anuradha, a talented singer who chooses to give up her formidable talent and the chance of a fulfilling career as a singer to follow the man she loves, an idealist doctor who chooses to serve rural India. The story's message....

Waaannnnh! Game Over

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Tears. All those who got hooked to ESPN's diet of not one but two top class football matches every night for over a month, I am sure are shedding fat copious tears. Bemoaning the end of their daily tryst with the beautiful game. And the loss of what had become a nocturnal ritual with other proud members of the 'I am so into soccer' club. Let me say upfront that I tuned into the spectacular spectacle in snatches for its 'entertainment' value. For the tamaasha. Not for Canavarro's terrier like defence or Christiano Ronaldo's dodgy run bursts or Ghana's frustrating inability to convert a single of their attempts into a goal. I watched it more for the action on the sidelines and after the matches. I watched it mainly for the tears. Tears blazed a trail in FIFA 2006. So if the archetype metro-sexual....

Sa nia yet so far

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If you sat up late Wednesday night this week and watched Sania Mirza's first round match vs. Elena Dementieva you would feel pretty much like I did, hopeful and excited. After all these days of rootless rooting for soccer teams of varying hues, here was a chance to cheer where we counted. In forty minutes flat my emotions were lobbed, smashed and tossed around pretty much like those tennis balls the players were going after. From hopeful and excited to frustrated and cynical didn't take too long. First set. Sania Mirza no. 38 in the world was leading 4 - 1. Even the cameras seemed to know she was the woman to watch. Big close ups of dangly earrings, jaunty hair knot, expressive reactions to line calls and some aggressive shots dominated screen time. The twenty year old who had put Indian women on the world....