THE NEW TAMIL CINEMA
MAY 10, 2009 – IN TERMS OF APPLICATION OF TECHNIQUE, at least, it appears that Hindi cinema is wantonly promiscuous, tempted by the wicked blandishments of world cinema, while Tamil cinema has remained the model of dull fidelity, content to cohabit with past masters from within the state. With the exception of a few big directors – the usual suspects – the average Tamil filmmaker directs his energies towards the shaping of performance, screenplay and dialogue, and little, if any, consideration is expended on craft. This isn’t about pretty photography – the screen’s expanse filled with a shimmering sunset, or a song sequence shot with enough megawatt sparkle to light up the village in Swades. I refer to craft being applied in service of the content (and the context) of the scene – as, for instance, in Taare Zameen Par, when the little boy, Ishaan, is dropped off, for the first time, at boarding school.
The father snaps that it’s time to leave. Outside the car, as the boy stands in pitiful isolation, we are given the reactions of the older son and the mother, both of whom are distraught at the prospect of abandoning their beloved Ishaan. A closeup of Ishaan’s face reveals big baby-eyes rapidly filling with tears, a sure sign that the audience is going to be emotionally manipulated – but the beauty is in how this manipulation is accomplished. Ishaan shudders involuntarily when the driver starts the car, and as the vehicle begins to pull away, we stay with the sobbing mother, the stationary child rapidly receding in the background. The next cut, however, deposits us behind Ishaan, and now we see the car speeding away from him. The gentle rise and fall of his shoulders informs us that he’s crying – but we don’t see his face yet.
Only after the car turns the corner and vanishes from sight, only when Ishaan is truly alone, only after this moment has been milked for maximum drama, does the camera swing a smooth arc and bring us face-to-face with Ishaan, for the money shot of his eyes streaming with tears. Would the same effect have been achieved had the camera cut to the sobbing child immediately after the car began to pull away? Possibly. We Indian audiences are a soft-hearted bunch. It doesn’t take much to make us cry. But this way, a similar end is accomplished with remarkable restraint and grace. The boy’s shaking shoulders prepare us for the awfulness of his situation, the half-circle of the camera slowly pulls us towards Ishaan’s reaction, and by the time we set eyes on him, we’re helpless puppets at the filmmaker’s mercy, expertly yanked around to empathise with Ishaan.
Such delicacy and deliberation in craftsmanship wasn’t easy to find in Tamil cinema – we’re more likely to be assaulted with the jump cut accompanied by the soundtrack whoosh – but, in a wonderful turnaround, we’re witnessing a parade of first-time filmmakers whose subjects are unabashedly local but who think in terms of global cinema. I was stunned by the display of virtuosity in Subramaniyapuram and Vennila Kabaddi Kuzhu, and I asked a cinematographer acquaintance how these first-time filmmakers were so alert to the visual possibilities of cinema. Was it something in the water in the Madurai hinterlands? How are these directors able to marry content and craft with such assurance, with such little trace of the dialogue-heavy drama tradition of Tamil cinema? He replied that these youngsters are steeped in world cinema – watching it, discussing it, arguing about it – and it shows in their films.
I think he’s right. If the shadow of Scorsese loomed over the bloody brutalities of Subramaniyapuram, the mischievous spirit of Fellini haunts Pasanga (which was produced by M Sasikumar, who directed the former). But that’s just the feel, thankfully, and not the content, which is blessedly homegrown, and which appears to have been cultivated under the shadow of Ilayaraja. When I watched the numerous references to the maestro’s music in Subramaniyapuram, I figured it was because the film was set in the eighties. But what, then, explains the O papa laali ringtone in Pasanga, or the prelude of Paadavandhadhor gaanam being employed to underscore a romantic moment? In a similarly reverential vein, the equally contemporary Kungumapoovum Konjumpuraavum features, in quick succession, Vandhanam vandhanam, Paattaale buthi sonnaar, Velakku vacha nerathile, Solam vedhakkayile, Aaha vandhiruchu and Ore naal unai naan.
Besides their Raja-love, these filmmakers are united in their attempts to mine poetry from the quotidian – from the unvarnished faces of untrained actors, from the undecorated sets, from the carefully cultivated distance from all things urban (and the corresponding affinity for all things lumpen), in the rites and rituals of community living (not just in the religious context, but also, say, in the musical chairs sequence in Pasanga), and most of all, in the aimlessness of the youth in these stories that informs the amiable aimlessness of the storytelling. There’s also the taint of tragedy. Ever since Kaadhal demonstrated that Tamil audiences weren’t sticklers for hero and heroine traipsing off into widescreen sunsets, it’s become increasingly commonplace to witness love thwarted by an unfeeling world. Kungumapoovum, in fact, opens to the sounds of a keening village, without the slightest attempt to conceal from us the fate that befell its protagonists.
This new Tamil cinema is filled with characters who behave in memorably unpredictable ways – like the brother in Kungumapoovum who roughs up someone who labelled his sister a prostitute. As he makes it amply clear, he knows his sister is a prostitute – his beef is merely that someone dared to voice this widely acknowledged fact. The husband and wife in Pasanga are also beautifully written characters, separated by a series of quietly simmering resentments, built up steadily over the years, and yet united by the responsibility of raising their children. Earlier, the great directors of Tamil cinema shaped exciting new characters with the broadest of brush strokes – these characters were thrilling because they were nothing like anyone we knew – but these young filmmakers, today, are doing the opposite. They are burrowing into the people we already know, and the newness is from the unpredictability in psychology and behaviour.
Of course, as Kungumapoovum ultimately proves, these ways and means and techniques cannot alone guarantee a good film. Raw faces are fine but raw performances aren’t. Several scenes erupt with scant buildup, as if entire emotions were shifted forward with a jump cut, and as a result, the story unfolds at a cold distance, with hardly any development coming close to touching the heart. Pasanga, thankfully, restores your faith in the new Tamil cinema. The film plays like Anjali meets Amarcord – a Felliniesque amalgamation of childhood memories (though necessarily G-rated, like the class clown scanning a calendar for the number of holidays every month) leavened with the bracing pop energy of Mani Ratnam (in the joyous Naandhaan goppanda and Who’s that guy song sequences; composer James Vasanthan is surely a child of the eighties, going by his ceaseless fascination for foot-tapping pop-rock compositions bolstered by booming synth chords).
The filmmaking is nowhere as sophisticated as in Sasikumar’s directorial debut, and several stretches are constructed to appeal primarily at a gag-reel level – but the writing is so winning, the lines so funny and true, the romance so blushingly inviting, and the inner lives of the children detailed with such knowing empathy, the film’s charms are hard to resist. But more than anything, the success of Pasanga is in its depiction of childhood as not some blissed-out period of innocence but a blisteringly miniature version of adulthood, with the same desires to succeed, the same fears of failing, the same instincts of competition, and the same drives to get even. The eponymous children are appropriately boisterous, but this bluster is tinged with a grownup sadness – due to underachieving parents, say, who cannot afford to buy their son a bicycle, thus scotching his hopes of winning a local sporting contest.
But this solemnity is lightened by the playful literalisation of the less abstract (and more entertaining) aspects of these children’s lives – like how the kids fashion imaginary motorbikes out of thin air, or how they appear to take their cues from the “rowdy culture” in our cinema. (The ragging in school is along the lines of the ragging we’ve regularly witnessed in our “college movies,” and the fisticuffs in the school playground are clearly modelled on our longstanding tradition of outlandishly entertaining action sequences.) Unfortunately, the film doesn’t know when to stop, and the last half-hour or so is ludicrous. The accrued momentum is sapped through endless sermons calculated to send the audience home with life-affirming ideals, and the climax – again harking back to Anjali, with a bedridden child relentlessly exhorted to rise again – is an infuriating insult. Call it the revenge of old Tamil cinema on the new.
LOOKING BACK AT FEROZ KHAN’S CAREER, today, you wonder how this most resolutely outsized of leading men allowed himself to be shrunk to the requirements of old-world Bollywood drama – as the unprincipled businessman of Aadmi aur Insaan, or the namby-pamby third-leg in Arzoo, or even the insecure spouse in Safar. It wasn’t always pretty, seeing him in those mushy musicals, buckling down under the box-office clout wielded by the likes of Rajendra Kumar and Rajesh Khanna. The star’s true calling was in striding across the screen in a black poncho and a gold medallion, clutching a rifle as he sang to a group of children, Jeevan mein tu darna nahin (Khote Sikkay). With another actor, you might have questioned the wisdom of wielding a firearm in such proximity to innocents, but Feroz Khan revelled in that kind of macho madness.
The apotheosis of this testosterone swagger was Janbaaz, one of the great trash-entertainments of Hindi cinema. From the scudding time-lapse clouds on the opening credits to the underground London clubs spilling over with barely decent dancers, every aspect about this film was the lip-smacking equivalent of junk food, topped with a killer soundtrack – all pop-disco flash, beefed up by bass lines that possessed a swagger of their own. Feroz Khan knew his music. He introduced Biddu in Qurbani, and gave us a peek into the broad aesthetic of today’s techno-driven sound. He had Rekha shimmy on screen for the duration of Pyaar do, pyaar lo (Janbaaz), and offered us a glimpse into the star-studded item number trend that still drives our films. None of this enriched the movies in any significant fashion, but now that Feroz Khan has galloped off into that last great sunset in the sky, aficionados of a certain B-movie vibe will remember him as a cowboy who lived by his own code on the frontiers of mainstream cinema.
Copyright ©2009 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
suresh
May 9, 2009
Just came back from the cinema hall…
Pasanga – The Wholesome Entertainer of the Year…
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nishanth
May 9, 2009
“the usual suspects” – nice phrase to use for the new good directors of tamil cinema.
U must write an article exclusively about this group of fresh blood which includes bala, ameer, selvaraghavan,myskin, ram (katradhu tamil), sasikumar and vetrimaran
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Tambi Dude
May 10, 2009
Subramaniyapuram was clearly the best of last year and along with Paruthiveeran remains my two favorite movies in any language. Tamil cinema has raised the bar considerably in the last 3 years. If you compare with the tamil movies of 2000-5 period, that is a huge improvement.
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vijay
May 10, 2009
Watching and discussing world cinema is fine as long as they dont start ripping it off like Myskin has done with Nandalala supposedly or lose the context in the misguided pursuit of making Hollywood-like films, like Gautam Menon.Hindi films too are’nt immune to these issues.
Anyways 2009 has fared better so far, compared to past years.
Still to come- Aayirathil Oruvan, Ashokavanam,unnai pol Oruvan, Nandalala,, a cowboy comedy by the guy who made Pulikesi,Pokkisham,Goa and maybe few more
Looks good.
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vijay
May 10, 2009
One more addition to the above -Achchamundu Achchamundu directed by Arun who I know thru a mutual friend for quite some time. It has already won some festival award in New Jersey and has music scored by Karthik Raja as well. Hope it turns out to be good
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Aditya Pant
May 10, 2009
If I’m not wrong, FK wanted an actress with a completely different image to do Pyar Do Pyar Lo in Jaanbaaz and had even approached Shabana Azmi for the same. It didn’t work out, but that would have been something!!!
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RSPrasanna
May 10, 2009
Bravo! 😉
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brangan
May 10, 2009
suresh: “of the year?” It’s only May, dude. Let’s have hope 🙂
Tambi Dude: I only hope this so-far small movement is sustained to an extent that it develops into something like parallel-multiplex cinema. Because, apparently, despite almost unanimous raves, Pasanga isn’t doing well at all — and as we still rely on individual producers (as opposed to corporates), that’s not a good sign at all.
Aditya Pant: I cannot imagine Shabana doing that song. Wow! You learn something new every day.
RSPrasanna: See? Now, maybe you should come back to Chennai 🙂
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suresh
May 10, 2009
I know someone would say this, that is why I added ‘Just came back from the cinema hall’ and I was in complete awe of what i saw…. and hence it ended up as ‘of the year’…
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Adithya
May 10, 2009
One doubt….Director Pandiaraj is not actor Pandiaraj(an) right?!
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raj
May 10, 2009
Why is rewflecting world cinema techniques important? When an indian watches a korean film, does he lament that it doesn’t follow bollywood techniques?
Someone was saying on sdm’s music – that song traverses ethiopian rhythm to eastern european blah blah etc to east asian flavour etc. For God’s sake, that was a movie set in india wasn’t it? Why appreciate the world music influences there? Shouldn’t it sound authenticllly indian first?
Similarly the world cinema like feel. It is not necessary for good cinema. Msviswanathan is not lesser than arrahman because he didn’t showcase world music influences in his ouev re.
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brangan
May 10, 2009
Adithya: They’re different. The director’s name is simply Pandiraj.
raj: Reg. the last part of your comment, there’s a ton of world music influence in MSV’s output, beginning with plain old rock ‘n’ roll to jazz to WCM, and expressed in everything from his time signatures to the way LR Eswari’s voice was shaped so uniquely in those signature songs of hers.
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brangan
May 10, 2009
Adithya: This is the guy.
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Shankar
May 10, 2009
Vijay, Arun of Achchamundu Achchamundu is a good friend of mine and we’ve worked on some projects. My composer partner has scored the music for all of Arun’s previous works. I’m hoping AA comes out good…I do like it’s story concept.
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Arif Attar
May 10, 2009
Nice to see the obituary on Feroz Khan. Was never a fan of his, but in death one does tend to look at the good points of the person. Apart from what you have mentioned, I would add two more contributions he has made to Hindi cinema: Hema Malini’s look in Dharmatma (She is a beautiful woman but she has never looked better) and the character of Inspector Khan in Qurbani.
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Venkatesh
May 11, 2009
BR : Who do you think are the usual suspects of the new-age tamil cinema ?
And “aficionados of a certain B-movie vibe will remember him as a cowboy who lived by his own code on the frontiers of mainstream cinema.” – Perfect.
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Radhika
May 11, 2009
I used to dislike Feroz Khan’s florid look when I was younger – but recently I saw quite a few movies of his and I began to re-evaluate him. He was quite effective in Safar – and it was not an easy role – not only did you have a RK dying (sure manipulation of audience sympathy) but La Tagore played quite a tough babe and he must’ve been squeezed between them- he played a jealous insecure man, but needed to be secure himself to do that role. I think he was easily one of the best-dressed men – if you compare the hideous outfits worn by RK, AB and Dev Anand in the 70s, FK’s sartorial sense comes across as classy and muted (leaving aside the poncho – but that was effective, like Devgan’s shawn in Omkara). As a director, I think he brought in a taste of the West – the first half of Apradh was great fun – foreign locales, formula racing, molls getting killed in a bathtub – it was like watching a movie of a James Hadley Chase book.
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Radhika
May 11, 2009
aiyyo – shawl, not shawn.
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KPV Balaji
May 11, 2009
@BR
Just as you mentioned ‘Vennila Kabadi Kuzhu’.. just want to know your thoughts on its climax..i for one felt it was forced and out of place ..much like ‘Kaloori’s climax..added just bring in a shock factor..
@vijay
Myskinn is supposedly gonna acknowledge Takeshi Kitanos ‘Kikujiro’ in the title cards.
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Adithya
May 11, 2009
BR: Ah, thanks. Someone mentioned that it could be the same person and I was wondering. I believe the actor Pandiarajan has directed some slapstick masalas before, so this couldn’t be the same person.
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raj
May 11, 2009
Well, BR, he didnt make a big show of it – that nigerian rhythms, sampling algerian voices thingy. Ippo enna trend-na, idhellam pannina dhaan nalla MD-nu. Apdi paartha, IR musicla world music influence illaiya? But that wasnt his calling card. I find this World cinema thing similar – sondhama solradhukku onnum illai, naalu english padam paarthu, andha technique implement pandren etcnu film uda vendiyadhu. Idhai naalu peru apdiye aaha ohona vendiyadhu. Sari, adhuvavadhu TASTE. Nothing to say. But APDI PADAM EDUTHA DHAAN nalla padam, mathadhu ellam local dhandam-nu sonna? World Cinema influence illama nalla tamizh padam vandhirukkum, inimelum varum. Young directors World Cinema pathi vivadhikkalainalaum, nalla padam varum. It wont be like World Cinema, but that doesnt mean World Cinema is greater
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brangan
May 11, 2009
Arif Attar: I thought Hema looked spectacular in that period. Remember that shot in Johny Mera Naam where her face appears to be lit by the diamonds she’s looking at? Wowza! 🙂
Venkatesh: I was talking about Mani and so on. With the new guys, it’s too early to tell, no?
Radhika: Hmmm… must see if I can lay hands on Apradh again. Though I tried to re-see Dharmatma some time back, and it was very ordinary.
KPV Balaji: Oh, I actually liked the end. It took me by surprise, at first, but when I thought about it, I saw that they had been planting little clues about the tragedy all along. That last scene of the girl all alone (not knowing what happened) was fantastic, IMO. Kalloori, BTW, did nothing for me — frankly found it quite bad.
raj: I haven’t claimed, in ANY place in this article, that world cinema is “greater.” I’m just theorising that the visual alertness of these new filmmakers is because of an exposure to cinemas of the world that bend and stretch the medium in ways Tamil cinema hasn’t (at least, visually, technically). But that said, if you’re happy with the shot-takings and the stagings of Vikraman or Radha Mohan, that’s certainly your prerogative. Who am I to argue about that? It’s just entertainment, dude, not a recipe for world peace.
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Tambi Dude
May 11, 2009
BR – The period Hema looked great ended with Sholay, bcos she got into the affair with Dharam during the making of Sholay. After that she started gaining weight.
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Jaiganesh
May 12, 2009
yaay!! i found one more person in this planet who likes Vennila Kabadi kuzhu’s climax!!!!
u made my day!!
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Ramesh
May 12, 2009
I found nothing wrong with VKK’s ending. IMO, a film just tries to tell a story which does not necessarily have to tread down a prescribed path. Meaning, anything can happen to me too once I finish posting this comment. Why should the filmmaker even plant clues to tell that the person might die in the end. Hypothetically, the hero might have been succeeded all his life and could have died in the end against the run of play as some cricket commentators say.
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KPV Balaji
May 12, 2009
Just as someone metioned the otehr pandiarajan, i recently revisited aanpaavam and still find it hilarious . ” Kathal kasakuthaiyaa” by IR was awesome 🙂
@ BR
What little clues… i have no clue about it :)..can you mention them..
@jaiganesh
Guess you are the one who writes in PFC..remember having the discussion with you about the same climx there. do you plan to write abt pasanga ??
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brangan
May 12, 2009
Ramesh/Balaji: You’re absolutely right. In an ideal sense, a filmmaker doesn’t have to “plant clues” or anything. But we’re talking about a Tamil/Indian audience, and one thing that people expect here is a sense of closure. People get uncomfortable if things happen out of the blue, and they start questioning. That’s why — SPOILER ALERT — I felt it was a good decision to hint that the rival kabaddi player was threatening to kill the hero. This small development, tucked away in an early part of the film, came to the fore when the fight happened in the second half, but that wasn’t it and we heaved a sigh of relief. But the end, again, pulled the rug from under our feet. So there was a consistency in the writing — a hovering threat, followed by a false follow-up, followed by the real payoff.
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KPV Balaji
May 12, 2009
Ramesh :
Nothing wrong with the director trying to bring an element of surprise, just that it did not work for me. Probably because i went into the movie knowing the climax and read many negative reviews about the end..it din help my cause..guess have to watch it again..
BR : ‘a hovering threat, followed by a false follow-up, followed by the real payoff ‘ – indeed it makes sense when you put it this way 🙂
Talking of inspirations from world and hollywood movies the next big release in tamil ‘Sarvam’ happening this week is supposedly inspired from 21 grams.
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brangan
May 12, 2009
KPV Balaji: I don’t know about Sarvam, but that’s not the kind of global-cinema “inspiration” I was talking about. I was referring more to the mode/style of making films, in a fashion other than just thrusting a camera up the nose of an actor who’s spouting lines. Like that early shot in Anjaathey, where people drifted in and out of the scope of a stationary camera. It adds a very welcome freshness, especially because the content of the scene is very “local.” It’s so nice to see filmmakers thinking along those “invisible” lines, and not just trying to wow us with crane shots and jump cuts and dazzling lighting effects.
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Shankar
May 12, 2009
When I first watched VKK, I didn’t really like the ending, possibly because I didn’t want it to end that way. I was expecting more of a “Yathra”, “Adhu Oru Kanaa Kalam” type ending…and you are right, the rug got pulled away. Now looking back, I agree it was a beautiful ending…
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KPV Balaji
May 12, 2009
BR : The sarvam info was just to add on to the list mentioned by vijay in his very first comment. Rather i should have mentioned it as ‘sarvam’ to be copied/plagiarised from 21 grams. Understood the inspiration and visual superiority that you were talking about wrt to world cinema. The initial scenes and particularly the entire sequence where we are shown only the actors legs where prasanna does a peeping tom, were treated differently yet equally effective.
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Jaiganesh
May 13, 2009
@KPV – I am that guy.
Unfortunately I cant catch up with pasanga yet. I saw VKK with the help of India glitz feature – but they have stopped it now – I am clueless about watching Naan Kadavul and Pasanga unless Bigflix.com or similar portals host it legally online.
The hovering threat is what I referred to as the sword of domicles. Any moment he will perish – just that he is unaware while we are briefly aware. ‘Unexpected’ is not the end but the how.
The ending of VKK (the heroine – unaware) portion – reminded me of a Rudyard Kipling short story of a boy falling in love with a girl on a railway station – mother of all murali type love stories.
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bart
May 13, 2009
That Rudyard Kipling story is I think “Time stops at Shamli”. Inchpired version of this is “thalaatu pada vaa” by Parthiban and R.Sunderrajan as early as 1990 🙂
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Venkatesh
May 13, 2009
BR: I agree. Mani yes ., Bala(3-4 films but what films) yes ., Ameer may be but all the newer lot including Myskin, Sasikumar, VKK’s director – Yes very refreshing ., very nice films but surely these gents are all new. Lets give them a few more years a few more films and then see what happens.
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Jaiganesh
May 14, 2009
wow bart!!!
Thanks for that info!!!
long time doubt…
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Deepak
May 14, 2009
Hi Rangan,
Sorry to digress. Saw the Clint Eastwood starrer, Gran Torino yesterday night and thought it was absolutely brilliant…Logged onto this site hoping that you had done a review. Alas! No!!
I find it amazing that when most directors his age(even the great ones) would have gone into retirement or steady decline, he is producing some of his best work.
Would be delighted if you could do a review or a Between Reviews…something…anything!! 🙂
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Jaiganesh
May 14, 2009
Clint Eastwood is the case where everyone thinks he is getting oo much of accolades and want to ration praise to some one new. Oly in films we dont get tired of seeing one boy/girl winning all the school awards. In real life we are such chickens in accepting someone superior and genius winning all the time.
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Shankar
May 15, 2009
Baddy, did you notice how much parts of the keyboards on “Naandaan Goppanda” reminded one of the Rock Machine days?
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brangan
May 15, 2009
Shankar: Totally! That’s why I mentioned here that the guy is a bona fide 80s child. You listen to the weight of the synth and the texture of the (digital?) drums, and you instantly slip into a flashback. I don’t know if I’ll be listening to this song even 6 months down, but for now, it’s great fun. Plus, it’s the *second* song beginning with these words, the first of course being ‘Naan dhaan goppanda nallamuthu peranda’ from Ram Lakshman. Oh why did Kamal have to grow up and get all serious on us 🙂
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Shankar
May 15, 2009
On that note, I know how many people have remarked that it was innovative to use a song for a fight scene in Dhool, but if I recall correctly, “Naandhaan Goppanda” from Ram Lakshman did precisely that. I agree, why did Kamal have to grow up? 🙂
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Venkatesh
May 15, 2009
Continuation of Digression : Gran Torino ., great film i beg to differ.
Clint Eastwood is a bona-fide genius absolutely no question about that . But Gran Torino is much too predictable, the story-line, the shot-taking, the camera movement, the humor, the sombre music.. i have seen it all before – in his Million Dollar Baby. Story line is different but the “rythm” of the movie is exactly the same.
I shall now stop the digression.
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Satyam
May 22, 2009
Baradwaj, this is easily one of your finest pieces.. well done sir..
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Qalandar
May 22, 2009
Baradwaj: all I will say is, one of your best pieces.
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Prince
June 15, 2009
Bart: Not nitpicking, but is it not Ruskin Bond’s ‘Train Stops at Shamli’ that you have in mind.
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bart
June 29, 2009
Yes Prince. The collection is “Time stops at Shamli” but the story is “Train stops at Shamli”.
Baradwaj, I watched “Pasanga” and then “Nadodigal” back to back over two weekends. I feel though this New Tamil Cinema is welcome, it is slowly getting into a “formula” mode again. Bits of Raja’s songs interspersed in movies (Pasanga, Nadodigal and clips of KPKP and Mayandi.. which I saw in TV) seems to be a very must thing for these rural movies. They have heros without decent financial backing, strugglers, group of friends, sad love story etc. The impact such movies make is reducing as could be seen with KPKP and now Nadodigal. Not sure if this is a welcome “trend” afterall. Yes, these movies are anyday blindly better than “Rajadhi Raja” and their likes…
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Arun
August 26, 2009
I have seen Pasanga 3 times now in past one month, i seem to be falling in love with it more with each viewing!
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sathath seeni
September 16, 2009
passanga very good film
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Hari
December 6, 2009
Rangan,
I confess, I have not been following Hindi movies for a long time and watched only handful of few tamil movies in last 4 years like subramaniapuram, naadogial and few others, which are average.
IMO, Subramaniapuram is one hell of a movie!. The climax scene, where nervous mardhu walking with a raised arival, looking back repeatedly with his friend being killed in the back-ground still gives me goose bumps.
I am not still 100% sure about your statement that Hindi movies presentation is better than Tamil movies.
What do you think about the subramaniapuram climax scene?
Do you have any other good visualization example in Hindi movies apart from Taare Zameen Par for ? Naadogal is also very good. If there is any recent hindi movie,which is as natural as these movies with real-life like performance/story, Please let me know.
I have not seen any Hindi movie for a long time for a good reason. It would be glad to know, if I am missing something good.
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muthu
January 29, 2010
Pasanaga movie slaps now a days violence builder in kollywood cinema. Due to the effect even small kids also behave like rowdy.
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