IN MEDIA RES
An extremely well-made first feature is also extremely overfamiliar, what with its initial investment in farmer suicides giving way to easy potshots at our media.
AUG 15, 2010 – YOU’D THINK THAT A FILM ABOUT farmer suicides would play like Godaan-meets-Gabhricha Paus, but Peepli [Live] is more interested in being a satire about our media. It plays, instead, like Ace in the Hole-meets-Network. The former was about callous big-city media’s exploitation of a hapless local trapped in a cave, which results in the site burgeoning into a makeshift carnival of sorts, a haven for appallingly insensitive disaster-tourists. The latter cast a cynical eye on a ratings-obsessed television station that had little qualms about letting someone die on air. Both these American films came before the era of reality television, and Anusha Rizvi’s satire, thanks to the timing of its release, draws upon that additional dimension. Will Natha (Omkar Das Manikpuri), a farmer about to lose his land to the bank, kill himself as claimed? It’s a reality show of the most appalling kind: Non-Survivor.
The problem with Peepli [Live] is that it soon manages the seemingly impossible feat of nudging Natha into the borders of his own story – perhaps intentionally. The journalists become the focus. So we’re told that no one really cares for Natha – all they want is an exclusive story and explosive ratings. We’re told that our news channels, in the headlines segment, would rather open with a bit about Shilpa Shetty denying an affair with Prince William. (The headline about farmer suicides comes third.) We’re told that, under the guise of live reporting, our media preys on innocents, as when a reporter enters Natha’s humble home and attempts to make a “point” about the way clothes droop sadly from a line. And we’re told that politicians are no better, that they’d rather gift Natha a big-screen television set, which he has little use for, than do something that might actually alleviate his plight. But haven’t we been told these things in at least 1387 other films?
Peepli [Live] closes with grim statistics about farmers in India, but it doesn’t earn this concern because it’s more about the grim realities about our media. (This is somewhat like how Taare Zameen Par, another Aamir Khan production, started being about a boy and eventually got around to being about his teacher. Natha, eventually, is just chum for media sharks.) At one point, Natha goes missing after setting out to relieve himself, and Rizvi seizes this opportunity to skewer the media some more. At first, it’s very funny watching a battalion of camera-armed journalists in pursuit of a poor man who just wants to do his morning job. But after he goes missing, we see a reporter speculating about the state of Natha’s mind based on the colour of his shit. What was amusing turns arduous – not least because our media, the way it functions, is already its own satire. Peepli [Live], after a while, ends up satirising an already broad satire.
The one media-related aspect that’s reasonably involving is the invisible line between the English-language and vernacular media. “Asli patrakaar to hum hain… Junta ki nafs pakadne wale…,” boasts Rakesh (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a reporter for a Hindi newspaper, that they’re the ones who know the pulse of the people. In contrast, Nandita (Malaika Shenoy), a journalist for an English television channel (and the one who read out the headline about Shilpa Shetty), confesses, “Farmer kind of stories are not exactly my forte.” And yet, after reaching the site of Natha’s story and enlisting the help of Rakesh, she takes it upon herself to condescend to the man, secure in her superiority. At these moments, you wonder what might have resulted if the satirical aspects had been jettisoned in favour of an in-depth look at our media – a sort of Luck By Chance in the newsroom, given that Rizvi’s journalistic background makes her as much an insider as Zoya Akhtar is in the film industry.
The characters stay mostly at the level of pawns to be navigated through the screenplay, with one-liner motivations. (Contrast this with Gabhricha Paus, where the entire family was a living, breathing entity. You were invested in whether or not the farmer would die, whereas, here, Natha’s fate is utterly uninvolving.) Natha’s wife (Shalini Vatsa), for instance, is detailed mainly through her acrimonious relationship with her bedridden mother-in-law (Farookh Zafar, who’s a caustic riot each time she opens her mouth), but we get little insight about her relationship with her husband – especially a husband about to give up his life. Natha’s bonding with his loser-brother (Raghubir Yadav) is far more tangible, and the scene where they discuss which one of them should commit suicide in order to save their ancestral land is a little gem, all the more impressive for the lightness of its touch, given the subject under discussion.
Rizvi is a fine filmmaker, with an excellent eye for detail (an inscription on a wall that says “thookna mana hai” is embellished with spittle) and the ability to draw terrific performances from her cast. She narrates her story with very little background music, and the fact that we respond to events the way we would had they been set to strings and percussion shows a talent for staging that’s impressive for a first feature. She also has a gift for the grace note that’s amply demonstrated in the borderline-absurd moment where a beleaguered Natha finds solace with his goat, or the ones that depict Natha’s pitiful dreams, or in the heartrending subplot about a ditch-digging farmer, or in the stray shot of a tightrope walker who appears to symbolise the tightrope walk that is these farmers’ existence. At all levels but the choices in the plot, Peepli [Live] is a solid achievement. But for actual insight into the minds of farmers at tether’s end, you’re better off watching Gabhricha Paus, which may not be as well-crafted but at least it doesn’t let its comedy erode its compassion.
Copyright ©2010 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Aditya Pant
August 14, 2010
With a title like Peepli [Live}, there was no doubt that the film would be more about the media. So, as you rightly point out, sidelining Natha was intentional and that worked very well for me. Despite the “over-familiar” content, what really worked for me was the authenticity of the rural setting and the dialect. Quite an enjoyable fare overall.
Small nitpick … shouldn’t it be “nabz”?
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Arnav
August 14, 2010
Another nitpick – Was it Rakesh who said “Asli patrakaar to hum hain…” or the reporter (Deepak) from the Hindi TV channel?
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bran1gan
August 14, 2010
Aditya Pant / Arnav: yes, yes, on both counts.
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moifightclub
August 14, 2010
Dear Mr Rangan, please don’t report like Mallika! Dont force us to point out mistakes in your review. Please read, am sure you will get it.
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bran1gan
August 15, 2010
Dear Mr moifightclub: Instead of being cryptic, it might help if you pointed out — like Aditya and Arnav — what the problem is. These pieces aren’t always perfect, you know.
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bran1gan
August 15, 2010
BTW, if any of you locals are loitering around the Nungambakkam area on Tuesday, around 6:30, do consider dropping in on my Madras Week presentation on Tanglish in Tamil Cinema. Won’t talk much, I promise. It’s at The Park.
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Mambazha Manidhan
August 15, 2010
I’m definitely in. I also wanna attend the talk on Policing the City at the Taj, Mount Road. But, the question is:Is it free? Even the refreshments and tea that are provided ? I don’t wanna be caught with a bill at both the places. 😀
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abinav
August 15, 2010
The absence of music is something that impressed me too. Another movie where this was executed fantastically, incidentally by another debutante film-maker, was Firaaq. The tension was made palpable by body language.
In Peepli [Live], I thought that satire was well handled see-sawing enough between subtle and loud, packing enough for the mass and the multiplex. Anusha, again, feels compelled to show what happens of Natha – and then as if to rationalize her climax throws in the statistic.
Or wait, did she force-fit the climax to find a smoother way to the statistic?
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Raj Balakrishnan
August 15, 2010
Hi, nice review. A welcome change amidst all the sickening gushing reviews. One more thing, I am in Chennai now – so this presentation is on 17th August at 6.30 PM, is it? Is it open for all?
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vikram
August 15, 2010
Hi BR, pl let us bangalore folks know when you plan on a similar talk in bangalore (covering hindi or intl cinema)…thts coz me no speak tamil 🙂
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vijay
August 15, 2010
Tanglish in cinema? who is the chief guest, Gautam Menon? 🙂
But seriously I am not sure what made you chose this topic. Have you seen any recent trends on this or something?
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bran1gan
August 16, 2010
Mambazha Manidhan ? Raj Balakrishnan: There’s no fee (thanks for letting me know in advance that I don’t have a career on the paid-lecturer circuit), but check about timings, because they juct changed the timing of the Chandrababu presentation today.
abinav: “and then as if to rationalize her climax throws in the statistic… Or wait, did she force-fit the climax to find a smoother way to the statistic?” Good chicken-and-egg question. Which canme first, I wonder.
vijay: LOL at the GVM bit. The idea is to talk about cinema using Madras as a pivot. (Because it’s Madras Week.) Tanglish is Madras’s loving contribution to the arts, no? 🙂 BTW, you’d be surprised at how many older films used Tanglish. I thought of how apoplectic you’d have gotten seeing Sowcar Janaki address Poornam Viswanathan as “daddy” in Uyarndha Manidhan 🙂
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Just Another Film Buff
August 16, 2010
Wait, didn’t Chandrababu do a full number in Tanglish: “Chennai pattinam poriya?” Not counted as Tanglish?
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vijay
August 16, 2010
BR, of course Tanglish has always been there. But in the 60s I guess it was used mostly to just highlight the upper middle class urban family. Remember “We dont see Tamil films, we see only English films” in Kaadhalikka Neramillai? Kamal then took it to another level in some of his bell bottom-day movies, with his put-on accent and all that 🙂
The recent trend is more Hollywood English though. And in some cases, the exact phrases used as such.
In Ayan which I recently watched, Surya rips a line straight off The Departed “Feds are like mushrooms, you feed them shit and keep them in the dark”. I dont know if you caught that or not, towards the beginning of the film. What made it funny was that it was kind of forced in that scene, maybe because the director KV Anand liked that line so much and was trying hard to use it somewhere.
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Jagannath
August 16, 2010
Mr Rangan, you are the Armond White in the Indian criticism scene. Like White, please stick to your guns. Aisha deserved 3.5 and this straight-to-DVD schlock didn’t deserve even a three. However, considering your constraints, I understand why you gave it a three. Every time I read your reviews, I feel really good that there’s someone in this part of the world who doesn’t fit the ‘programme’ (am sure you know what I mean).
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abinav
August 16, 2010
Or even Major Sundarrajan, what with his thundering voice spewing English dialogues followed by Tamil translations…’
Wondering if he were to act in a movie today, he would go – ‘Wassup?, Maela enna irukku?!’
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Mambazha Manidhan
August 16, 2010
If the timing changes you’ll tell us no ? The only I knew if this were happening is after I saw it here.So, let us know if there is a change.
I expect you to talk about the challenges of thinking in english and writing in tanglish for your forthcoming K2K. Screw Milind’s confidentiality agreement.And, if you think you can pass off parts of ‘The Madras Mongrel’ as brand new material to the unsuspecting folks sitting in the audience, well think again. 🙂
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Srividhya
August 16, 2010
Dear Sir,
While writing about the Oscars, you said “The makers can argue that they dumbed down the narrative elements in order to make the movie play better across every audience segment in every corner of the world – but banality, however well intentioned, is still banality” about Avatar.
Here, you are justifying the familiar and predictable plots of the two films you are discussing.
Can you please explain?
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Radhika
August 16, 2010
I thought she had a surer touch when she depicted the rural milieu than when she tried spoofing the urban media. I liked the Mad Marginal like touches – Natha eating eggs while the rest discussed suicides was a hoot.
>>She narrates her story with very little background music
But what was the ghasly music that played when the ditch-digging farmer died? That was completely out of synch with the movie.
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Utkal Mohanty
August 16, 2010
“YOU’D THINK THAT A FILM ABOUT farmer suicides would play like Godaan-meets-Gabhricha Paus,..”
Why should we? Won’t that be so predictable?
I think the satire on media is a nice of bringing some distance from the subject and making you think about the issue. I much prefer this mode rather than show the pitiable plights of peasants which would be so unimaginative, and boring cinema to boot.
I think this was a path breaker in Indian cinema closest you can get to international cinematic grammar. ( The Sundance selection is no accident!)
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vidyut
August 16, 2010
“you’d be surprised at how many older films used Tanglish”
Usha Uthup, anyone ? “Love is beautiful for all mankind… Life is a flower, love is a treasure, living for love is reason & rhyme… Come along sing with me , you & you…”, composed by Kunnakkudi Vaidynathan is a hummable tune (it’s like “Listen to the falling rain”). Another one from her was “Under the mango tree, on the banks of the Cauvery…Malligai Poo…” So, in the annals of tamil movies, we’ve had whole songs crooned in English (the first one) that could make GVM wince in mock-horror.
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Utkal Mohanty
August 16, 2010
I thought It was brilliant. The first half comes as a bolt from the blue…..you have seen nothing like this in Indian cinema. The peasant dramas of Benegal and Nihalani appear far more filmy and staged compared to the real feel of this film. The black humour is first rate. Portions in the second half involving the politicians sag a little bit. But I don’t agree with those who say that the satire takes the focus away from the dying peasants. On the contrary, the media circus provides the right contrast for us to look at the peasants’ plight objectively. A straight forward depiction of the peasant’s reality would be unengaging and boring. Bringing in the media is also relevant, because it represents us, all urbanites who like to offer their armchair sympathy to the cause.
Apart from the humour, there are many poetic moments: the moment with Nathu and his goat, the sight of Horu Mahato digging with utmost concentration, oblivious to the world.
I met A friend who has come from USA, who also saw the film. He is based in US, but has made two Bengali feature films., one of them has got the National award for the Best Actor. He was totally floored by the film. This is the closest we have come to International cinema of today, was his opinion.
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Padawan
August 16, 2010
No Peepli [Live]. It is TR in Africa [Live]. Enjoy.
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bran1gan
August 17, 2010
JAFB: Oh, I’m not doing the Chandrababu presentation. Just the Tanglish one.
Mambazha Manidhan: It’s not a speech. More video clips and stuff. I’m just string them together. It starts at 7.
Srividhya: I didn’t think Peepli was banal at all.
Radhika: Oh yeah. She had a fantastic touch with the rural milieu. But even with the media bits, there were places she went that other media satires haven’t, and I wished that (as in Luck By Chance) She’d made an all-out velvet-gloved attack, as opposed to this. I think we’re so insensitised to media attacks now that unless someone does a Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron and goes all surreal-lunatic, it’s not going to sting much.
vidyut: “Love is beautiful for all mankind”? Perhaps you mean “love is fine darling when you’re mine”? From Thavapudhalvan?
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vidyut
August 17, 2010
““Love is beautiful for all mankind”? Perhaps you mean “love is fine darling when you’re mine”? From Thavapudhalvan?”
No, this one is a foot-tapping number from the movie “Melnaattu Marumagal”. The cast included Sivakumar, Jayasudha and Kamalhasan (Kunnakudi was the music director) although I don’t recall watching the movie ever. Usha Uthup’s song was quite popular. Whats stuck with me is the line “Come along sing with me…” and the spot where she goes “gum chikkum, gum chikkum..” (or something like that) from this song.
Try the following link and you might enjoy the song as well:
http://www.musicplug.in/multiple_song_flashplayer.php?songid=781&br=high&id=180&page=movies
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bran1gan
August 17, 2010
vidyut: Hmmm… Don’t recall this one. I remember one that went “How wonderful, how beautiful” — between Kamal and first-wife Vani.
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bran1gan
August 17, 2010
Oh, this is ‘lIfe is a flower…” I’ve heard this. I didn’t remember the opening line with ‘mankind’ and stuff 🙂
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anamika
August 17, 2010
missing madras week…and all the buzz around it.It is something that chennai should be proud of…seriously-just the diverse kind of discussions ,people and personalities make this one rocking city…maybe absence does make the heart go that much fonder!
best for the talk…you have arrived,now that you are a critic on the lecture circuit…enjaay in true tangolish style
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vidyut
August 17, 2010
“Oh, this is ‘lIfe is a flower…” I’ve heard this. I didn’t remember the opening line with ‘mankind’ and stuff :-)”
well, ecumenicalism and its strains predate the internet era’s global village clarion call and snuck into songs as well 🙂 btw, while there was the husky voice of Usha Uthup singing the English song “life is a flower…” in the movie, there is also the honey-dipped voice of Vani Jayaram singing the Thiruvizha staple “Muth thamizhil pada vandhen, Muruganaiye vanangi nindren”.
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Abinav
August 17, 2010
Some scenes just bring tears to your eyes:
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KayKay
August 18, 2010
Just watching the 2 TR clips inserted above makes me marvel that here’s a guy, so blindingly clueless about his own ineptness as a film-maker that the Tamil Cine World can actually boast of fare like Manisha En Monalisa and Veerasamy, works that transcend it’s sheer awfulness to enter a Twilight Zone-type of surreality that even the ouevre of Ed Wood couldn’t manage. What makes TR scary is that the man lacks any semblance of irony. He’s dead serious about the shit he puts out.
Sorry Mr.B, from Peepli to TR, talk about bringing a discussion down 🙂
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bran1gan
August 18, 2010
anamika: Yeah, they do go through a lot of trouble to celebrate the city. Apparently, Sivasankari’s lecture was a lot of fun. I missed it.
abinav/KayKay: The clip and the comment were both uproarious. In the earlier clip too, the caller who called in to ask how TR maintains his “youth” and the surreal segue to Africa were mind-boggling, to say the least. To quote the caller after the African outburst – “chance-ay ille” 🙂
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abinav
August 18, 2010
chance-ay-ille… ah! classic tanglish.
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Just Another Film Buff
August 18, 2010
The true hero is the caller from France. The way he has staged it and pulled it off! “Kannula thannni varudhu saar!”
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Krishna
August 18, 2010
Simbu is now STR!
http://chennaionline.com/movies/cine-buzz/Simbu-becomes-STR/20102422112422.col
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vidyut
August 18, 2010
“The true hero is the caller from France. The way he has staged it and pulled it off! “Kannula thannni varudhu saar!””
Ditto. He constantly eggs TR to fire on all cylinders and TR never flinches. Among friends, it is referred to as “Aeththi vittutu, vaedikkai paakaradhu”. The clip posted by @Padawan is the kind that induces guilt once you are done laughing that you despair and start looking for something redeeming. Then you realize, the man is sincere, if not anything 🙂 (or that he has given some fabulous songs in the past and so these infractions shall be overlooked).
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Kiruba
August 18, 2010
Vidyut: ‘he has given some fabulous songs in the past and so these infractions shall be overlooked’
TR achieved his பிறவிப் பயன் when he discovered Amala for us. The Tamil populace is forever indebted.
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munimma
August 19, 2010
Re the TR Clip – ithulenthu enna theriyuthu – Tamil fans are a forgiving lot. Unboundedly so 😉
Was google-reading and found a small surprise – http://sriramv.wordpress.com/2010/08/18/tanglish-in-tamil-cinema/
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Anu
August 19, 2010
Liked the movie, especially the little touches (Natha hugging his goats, licking his lips at the eggs while his brother talks to Bhai Thakur, eating the eggs (which one assumes he has filched once the local politician and his thugs left) while the others discussed his suicide.
Things that jarred – the horrible ‘song’ with almost western orchestration that accompanied Hori Mehato’s death; and the Hindi reporter’s pseudo psychoanalysis about the colour of Natha’s shit.
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kamil
August 19, 2010
Rangan – perhaps you were a tad critical on a first time venture? Does that ever factor into your reviewing process, of being more lenient on debut filmmakers?
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vidyut
August 19, 2010
Here goes (if you hadn’t discovered the clip):
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bran1gan
August 19, 2010
munimma: Thanks. Here’s another link.
Kiruba: Piravi payan. LOL!
kamil: I didn’t exactly tear the film to shreds. Just found some portions jarring — like the media-oriented satire, which i felt was way-overfamiliar.
vidyut: IMo, the songs in this film are nothing compared to OTR. Koodayile karuvaadu is one of the greatest gaana numbers ever. And then, Idhu kuzhandhai paadum thalaatu. Bliss.
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NullPointer
August 19, 2010
BR: Is there a video version of your tanglish talk available someplace online?
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Mambazha Manidhan
August 20, 2010
I wish it was more of a lecture than a presentation.
The best part was the really loud yawn by the gentleman, to which you said you must be a really interesting speaker. 🙂 That, you were.
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vidyut
August 20, 2010
“IMo, the songs in this film are nothing compared to OTR”.
o, I agree. That was just the Amala sampler since kiruba had commented about the movie (I love *that* song, though not the dance there). OTR was one of the biggest blockbusters of the early eighties. It had no Sivaji, no Kamal, no Rajini, no Bagyaraj, (no Ramarajan either :-)) and no Ilayaraja. Chandrasekhar’s baritone voice or acting was not its selling point. It had two unglamorous two-bit actors (no, nothing wrong with that) and a college love story to work with (there was pining, but no talking between the lover and the loved). But, the movie bootstrapped itself into a ginormous hit using TR’s music, breathtaking songs and the lyrics. I would submit that OTR was the-little-engine-that-could of Tamil movies. He followed up with musical hits in Rayil Payanangalil, Uyirullavarai Usha, Kilinjalgal, Mythili ennai kaadhali etc. OTR was however his milestone movie and will remain so. I also believe that TR was a better lyricist than a Gangai Amaran or a Vairamuthu in articulating kaadhal (or kaadhal thOlvi). He is someone who never got his due for his talents because of his outsized and off-putting personality. Both on and off the (big)screen, he comes across as an emotional tornado. Off (big)screen in particular, he is the consummate anti-Rajini, always full of himself.
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bran1gan
August 20, 2010
NullPointer: Nope. Sorry.
Mambazha Manidhan: They wanted something light and entertaining. A lecture would have been heavy.
BTW, here’s the inevitable parody of Inception, called Inebriation 🙂
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Bala
August 20, 2010
@Baradwaj: did you have a ppt ? 😀 If so , care to upload it ?How about at-least the videos which you used for your presentation ?
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Padawan
August 20, 2010
Baradwaj: Will check out the video later at home(as the idiots have blocked Youtube, but allowed YouPorn!)
But here is Chris Nolan’s Implementation.
“Ellen Page walks a few steps behind DiCaprio onto a roof. He turns to her. “You have three minutes to make a PowerPoint presentation that will take me three hours to click through.”
Read the entire script here.
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/2010/07/christopher-nolan-implementation.html
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Pulkit
August 21, 2010
Nice review. I see your point but I think that the film was meant to be both – a satire on the media as well as a spotlight on the issue of farmer suicides. Yes, Natha gets sidelined but that’s the point I think. Media wins over farmer suicides. They’ve told their story and then they go home.
Check out my review for The NRI: http://www.the-nri.com/index.php/2010/08/film-review-peepli-live/
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Avik
July 24, 2018
In this website, this is the earliest mention of Nawazuddin Siddiqui (what I could find). He gets one mention in the review (that too for a some other actor’s line).
Eight years have passed and I just finished the tremendous eight episodes of Sacred Games. 🙂
And what a journey it has been. And we are the lucky ones, seeing it “live”, from the front row… Long it may continue.
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ramitbajaj01
July 24, 2018
“we are the lucky ones”
Is it a reference to BGT 2018?
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