Long, meandering thoughts inspired by the long, meandering melody lines in Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s remarkably expressive score for ‘Guzaarish,’ his latest ode to the opera.
NOV 7, 2010 – METRE IS TO MUSIC what iron bars are to a lioness in captivity – it calms us with the illusion that the untamable has been tamed. Without this rhythmic symmetry, we are no longer in charge. The music is in charge, the music controls us – much like how free verse mandates that we bend to its idiosyncratic will in ways that formally fashioned poetry doesn’t. When music is compacted into neat measures, we can afford to relegate it to the background as we cook and do the laundry and drive to work with the corner of an eye on the latest incoming text message. We can even hum along. Pop music – whose mission is to be contemporary and catchy – thrives on metrical precision, and because most Indian pop music is really film music, our songs are almost always constructed like pop songs, with short musical phrases, with intentional repeats at regular intervals, and with the metre exposed through pulsating percussion. One-two-three-FOUR, one-two-three-FOUR our internal metronome goes, and our feet pick up these subconscious signals and tap along in sweet submission.
The more adventurous composers may adopt the stylings of jazz or classical music or name-the-fad-of-the-moment music, but these venturesome variations will necessarily be confined within the iron bars of the (typical) four-four beat count, so that the music is easy to control, the song is easy to hum, the number is easy to choreograph for its appearance on screen. You cannot endure if you do not abide by these rules, and no one, I suspect, knows this better than the talented Ismail Darbar. Take, for instance, his score for Tera Jadoo Chal Gaya, a fatuous romantic comedy that needed little more than beat-heavy pop music. The numbers that made it to the album, instead, were fiendishly intricate compositions – the title track, Mujhe pyaar karo, Aye chand teri chandni ki kasam – whose time signatures alternated between slow and fast, sometimes within the same song, and whose melody lines were eel-like in their elusiveness. But if Darbar erred in his understanding of how best to serve the film, he did not err with the music. The film was swine, the songs pearls – each and every one a lustrous showcase for the singer.
That’s the reason Darbar found an instant soul mate in Sanjay Leela Bhansali, a filmmaker steeped in music and to whom the singer is the most important constituent of a song. Bhansali is often labeled “operatic” in the loosest, laziest sense of the word – because his mode of operation is melodrama tuned to a soul-shattering pitch. But Bhansali is operatic in a far truer sense – because he draws from the opera (or perhaps an indigenous cousin like the tamasha or the jatra), where the singer’s voice is the prime instrument for conveying emotion. Bhansali is perhaps the only one of our filmmakers to consistently favour the recitative over the aria, the melismatic over the syllabic – his albums are filled with the rhythms of the spoken over those of the sung, with single syllables cresting along multiple melodic notes and freed from excessive metrical constraints. The opening lines of Hamesha tumko chaaha (Devdas) could just as well be spoken: “I’ve always loved you, and I’ve loved nothing else, nothing else.” The rhythms aren’t those of poetry but of prose – but because it’s sung, it approaches the realm of the recitative.
This has been a Bhansali trademark right from the beginning. His films are certainly no stranger to thunderously choreographed movement – Dhol baaje (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam) or Dola re (Devdas) – but listen to Baahon ki darmiyaan (Khamoshi) or Woh chand jaisi ladki (Devdas), and you’ll hear the silences of the soul. The long melodic phrases go a long way towards delineating mood, lingering without fear of the next iteration of the beat crashing down and setting the course for the next turn of phrase. As a contrast, take AR Rahman’s evocative Kehne ko jashn-e-bahara hai, from Jodhaa Akbar. Even if the song weren’t set to beats, there’s an inherent tick-tock rhythm in the equidistant syllables, which makes the song easy to grasp, easy to get into. It’s pleasant. It’s soothing. It’s a lioness in a cage. But Bhansali’s music – and I deliberately say “Bhansali’s music,” for whether the nominal composer is Darbar or Monty Sharma (who scored the superb soundtrack of Saawariya), the overriding vision appears to be that of the director; it isn’t surprising that the music of Guzaarish has been composed by Bhansali himself – is a bristling force of nature. You approach it with a sense of trepidation and supplication.
At this juncture, let us take a minute to marvel at how the operatic stylings of Bhansali’s music, which we find so difficult to ease into, used to be, like Shakespeare’s plays, enjoyed by all audiences – the classes, the masses, everyone. But today, if you confess to being entertained by Troilus and Cressida or Tristan und Isolde, the perception is likely that you’re a champagne-sipping snob. How and when did this (d)evolution take place? Is it symptomatic of our attention-deficit generation that we will not, in exchange for the rewards of music, proffer up a concentrated chunk of our time? Do we expect something in return for nothing? Or is it a misplaced sense of entitlement that dictates that music should lie at our feet, like an overfed cocker spaniel, obeying our every whim. Sit. Lie down. Play dead. Has this what music become, mere wallpaper to our waking hours?
The flamenco-inflected Udi (belted out by Sunidhi Chauhan with her customary flamboyance) is the closest Guzaarish gets to a conventional song, the kind with a fixed metre that you can hum along with as you go about your chores. The phrases are short and snappy. The beat is overpowering. There’s a chorus that returns frequently, like a marker on a map reassuring us that there is no danger of getting lost. This is the only number that lends itself to frenzied choreography showcasing the physicality of the body – the rest are minuets of the mind. The first few listens may leave the dispiriting impression that the entire soundtrack is awash in the same colour, that the album is the unofficial soundtrack to Guy Maddin’s The Saddest Music in the World – but slowly and surely, we realise that the music isn’t so much sad as sentimental, the acoustic equivalent of shades of grey, neither depressingly black nor cheerfully white, and rendered by Bhansali’s usual mix of stars (Sunidhi Chauhan, Shankar Mahadevan, KK, Kunal Ganjawala) and should-have-been-stars (Shail Hada, Vibhavari Joshi, Harshdeep Kaur).
The singers own this soundtrack. This is really crooning of the finest kind, with ample attention paid to feel and phrasing. In the title track, Bas itni si is rendered as Bas itniiiiii si. The words tell us that the singer has the tiniest of requests, to die in his beloved’s arms, which, upon reflection, is not really a tiny request at all – and the elongation of itni hints at the eventual magnification of this request. In Tera zikr, which exudes an incense-shrouded air of spirituality, the singer lingers a few extra seconds on ki in the phrase paagal ki tarah, and you catch a glimpse of his pained madness. In Saiba, the female voice slips in like a sigh at the end of a robust male chorus, and the parsing of paala saalon se leaves you in little doubt about the fervency of her heartache. In Jaane kiske khwab, whose opening lines come closest to pure recitative, note the smallest of pauses between jaagti and aankhon mein bhi, or in Keh na sakun, consider the indulgent wallowing in seh na sakoon main. We form a unique relationship with music when we listen to it, like how we form pictures in our heads when we read. Will these associations we make be amplified by the images on screen, or will Bhansali shape these words, these musical phrasings, into entirely different meanings?
The musical arrangements are imaginative – comprising whistling, piano and solo violin runs, fluttery flamenco-style clapping, harmonica bursts, humming, Spanish guitar passages, a Goanese refrain that appears to be an intertextual link in Saiba and Udi, the trombone oozing from the pores of Chand ki katori – but they remain at a distance, never intruding on the singer, whose voice is always the prime instrument. Despite the operatic techniques, the sound is a lighter sound, in the tradition of lounge and nightclub singing – we get the feeling of the songs being sung directly to us, a feeling that will doubtlessly be amplified in the movie hall. This technique draws attention to the words, which sometimes come off a little too cleverly constructed, a little too fairy-dusted in their whimsy. (You may wince at the tripartite rhymes along the lines of guzaarish/baarish/farmaaish or fikr/fakr/zikr or katori/chatori/batori, but perhaps this is also a function of the uniqueness of the words in the Hindi lyrical universe. After all, we do not bat an eyelid, any longer, when sapna is brought in to rhyme with apna, or when pyaar is followed by iqraar.)
And as you keep listening, and listening, the songs reveal themselves in surprising fashions – the na-na-na humming that becomes an integral extension of the word gungunana (which means humming) in the title track, swept along by the relentless single-note pounding of the piano; or the high-pitched vocal counterpart in Tera zikr that at first comes off like a counterpoint and then like a participant in a duet. (The echoing emphasis on certain words is again a longstanding Bhansali trademark. Tera… tera… tera… zikr hai is just a step removed from Hamesha tumko chaaha… chaaha… chaaha.) Only one tune, Sau gram, gives off a whiff of the familiar – the opening lines a little too close to Anu Malik’s Yaadein title song. But the two stanzas are different (not only from the earlier song, but also from one another), and the number ends with an intriguing twist in the tail, with an imperceptible segue into pop-rock mode.
One of Bhansali’s signatures as a composer, at least from this first album, appears to be the slight nudge into a higher note that suggests a subsequent move to the higher portions of the octave, after which the tune falls back to its earlier terrain – the stray high note, instead of becoming a mere linking device between lower and higher notes, is therefore transformed into a startling splash of colour. He does this in Chand ki katori (possibly my favourite song, along with Keh na sakun; both bring to mind a love-scarred loser singing his heart out to an uncaring audience in a low-rent nightclub reeking of stale cigarette smoke and cheap liquor), in the gentle ascent that begins at saare taare ek taraf, and again in Daayein baayein, at the part that picks up with sar se, phir se. And Bhansali does the reverse in Dhundhli dhundhli, when the singer climbs to ke jaise saaz ke sab taar toot jaate hain, and you think he’s going to fall back to a lower note as usual, but the song keeps climbing – soaring, actually, like the pigeons it alludes to in the lyrics.
That last number is sung magnificently by Shankar Mahadevan, who often comes in for a lot of criticism in the songs he composes as part of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy. The charge is that he sings most of their songs – and this leads me to my parting thoughts about singers (and it’s only fitting that these thoughts belong in an appreciation of an album that is, above all, a love letter to the human voice). Singing is more than just keeping in tune. It involves technical skills, comfort in low and high registers, breath control, throw, expressiveness, timbre and tone, warmth and colour. Singing is about investing your personality into the song so that it’s yours and no one else’s. And Shankar Mahadevan does that over and over. Show me another singer, today, who can pull off Baawre or Sapnon se bhare naina from Luck By Chance. Why, then, do we keep harping on the pervasiveness of his voice, like how carpers in an earlier era used to wail endlessly about the Mangeshkar monopoly? The repeated use of an accomplished singer is just the composer’s way of ensuring that his gem is displayed to best possible effect, encased in gold and not in a setting of stainless steel. If the voice fails, how can a song succeed?
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.
ReviewGang
November 6, 2010
Masterful writing! I think there is a marked difference between your movie reviews and this. Is it because the movies reviews are under a time constraint or is it because this is a labour of love, while if you had your way you would not have written a single word on Action Replayy ?? 🙂
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bran1gan
November 6, 2010
ReviewGang: Thanks. I hadn’t written anything for a long time and I was listening constantly to this music while doing other writing — so i guess it was some sort of catharsis to put it all out (as opposed to, as you say, keeping an eye on the deadline-clock).
I don’t write much on music because I haven’t had the time, of late, to listen to albums to a sustained extent that can result in having at least a few meaningful insights about them. So in that way too, it felt good to write this piece. I just kept writing and writing and writing and wrote to my editor and said I have a 2000-odd word piece I’d like to give him. I’m waiting for the print edition tomorrow to see how much has been lopped off 🙂
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Aditya Pant
November 6, 2010
BR: I was blown away by this soundtrack… and you have expressed it so beautifully.
Again, like I mentioned in one of your posts a long time ago, Bhansali’s vision would go best with Gulzar’s poetry…and here, although he did not get the master himself, there is a lot of Gulzarian choice of words.
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Chhote Saab
November 6, 2010
Bade saab,
This was a great write-up, though a little bit over my head (or beyond my pay grade as Obama would put it!). But this transports me back to mid-late 90’s when we would discuss movies and music (Hindi film music mainly) and even at that point I was amazed at your understanding of music in general. I remember that you were of the view that SLB’s Khamoshi was musically one of the few great albums of that time (as opposed to 1-2 great songs in an album). Also, you were not a fan of SLB as a filmmaker in that movie but your view has evolved since then through ‘Hum dil de chuke…’, ‘Devdas’, ‘Black’ and ‘Saawariya’. I think ‘Guzarish’ is going to continue that evolution.
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bran1gan
November 6, 2010
Milliblog: Thanks boss, but I’m trying not to call this a “review” 🙂
Aditya Pant: More than Gulzar, I’d love to see Bhansali work with Rahman. That, I think, would be real magic.
Chhote Saab: Actually I wasn’t much of a fan of HDDCS either, except for parts in the first half. I think Devdas was when he truly found his voice. BTW, we watched Khamoshi together and both of us ended up laughing when Helen began to dance as the piano was taken away 🙂 Didn’t I make tapes of Ilayaraja songs for you?
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rameshram
November 6, 2010
Fado sound, not opera.( of couse fado is based somewhat on opera, so what you said could be applicable there too…)
visuala valayadittan though. the colors and the cleanness of the dramatic space in his imagery has benefitted from his stints in the european opera circuit for padmavati, though.
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Chhote Saab
November 6, 2010
Another interesting progression or evolution is SLB’s choice of music directors – Jatin-Lalit to Ismail Darbar to Monty Sharma to himself. Jatin-Lalit is the odd men out (though I have always felt that they were very underrated).
One intersting observation – his cinematographers have changed from Anil Mehta to Binod Pradhan to Ravi Chandran to Sudeep Chatterjee. All good cinematographers (haven’t heard of the last one though) and SLB’s movies consistently have high technical standards. Would you attribute this progression or change to just coincidence or like his music (and movies), a move towards more abstract, eccentric vision?
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bran1gan
November 6, 2010
rameshram: Are you saying this music is based on fado, or that all his music is? I think Devdas is quite definitely operatic (in scale, if not really in the European-sound sense), Saawariya a little less so, and this might be closer to fado. (SLB has this Goan fixation, right from Khamoshi.) Also, I seem to remember you writing about Padmavati. Or was it someone else?
Chhote: I think J-L happened because he was new and he was running out of composers to approach and they said yes. I caught a recent Sa Re Ga Ma where he said something to this effect, and he seemed very grateful. But yes, looking back, they are a very “lightweight” choice for this director.
About his cinematographers (and by extension his filmmaking), I think it’s just a sense of him becoming more confident as a filmmaker, more willing to take chances — and I’m guessing Ravi K Chandran helped him a great deal in this regard. As you say, he really isn’t a mainstream filmmaker at all — more an eccentric art film maker who attracts big stars and big budgets. Very curious case indeed 🙂
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Chhote Saab
November 6, 2010
I remember watching ‘Khamoshi’ together, and the unintentional comedy of Helen (She was really bad as an actress in that movie). There was a lot of funny moments in ‘Khamoshi’ and most of them were unintentional. I just don’t understand the friendship of SLB and Salman Khan – they seem so different!!
Yes, you did make tapes for Tamil songs (mainly Illayraja) for me and if you remember I even came to a Tamil movie with you (Kamal Haasan and Prabhu Deva comedy) – no subtitles, didn’t understand a word but still very funny (intentional) movie 🙂
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vijay
November 6, 2010
Is any director more overrated and hyped than Bhansali in the last 10 years? These are the instances when I can really understand Raj’s anguish about Hindi cinema.
His latest Guzaarish seems to be a ripoff. Even Khamoshi’s music, – Jaano suno is a note by note ripoff from Paul Anka’s Bring the Wine and I heard Mausam ki sargam was also ripped off. That alone brings the soundtrack several notches below greatness.Jatin-Lalit were generally decent otherwise.
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rameshram
November 6, 2010
was me, i was in the premiere, at the chatelet. he has subsequently been all over europe doing live productions and experimenting with set design..generally kalakkifying.
Devdas was orchestral, and closer to opera, but of late he has been getting more and more fado; saawariya black this one, and earlier, khamoshi.. its like he’s enshrining the portugese goa in indian films.
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Chhote Saab
November 6, 2010
@ Vijay – Maybe that’s why he had J-L for just one movie – his other movies music-wise seem to be original (I mean Dholi Taro is probably a folk song – infact even ‘Sasural Genda Phool’ from Delhi 6 by Rahman (and Prasoon Joshi) has been claimed that it is a copy of a folk song).
As far as him being overrated, that is a view shared by a lot but that is what Brady is saying – that he just makes the films he wants to as opposed to what people/audience want, whether it is tripe for some or great for others. No one can question his passion or involvement in filmmaking, IMO.
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bran1gan
November 6, 2010
Ah, here it is, rameshram’s review of Padmavati…
And I agree with Chhote Saab. I don’t think Bhansali is that highly rated. (In fact, in my opinion, he’s underrated.) The hype his films get are more because of the cast and stuff — and because hype is part and parcel of every film these days.
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ReviewGang
November 6, 2010
The “Bhansali is overrated” claim comes from Black (because it was widely acclaimed) and to some extent Devdas. I know you liked the movie but I found Black to be a torture. All that yelling and screaming totally turned me off. Bhansali’s style of “exaggeration” just doesn’t work for me.
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Bala
November 6, 2010
Nicely written (and that’s all I am qualified to say) .More so than the movie review :p I hope you aren’t going all Anthony Lane-ish on us as far as movies are concerned 😀
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Rakesh
November 7, 2010
Bhansali was actually supposed to work with Rahman on a project called Bajirao Mastani years ago.. for various reasons.. the movie was shelved …
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Sub Elahi
November 7, 2010
Agreed with chhote saab =)
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raj
November 7, 2010
Personal vision, passion ellAm sari.
That way even I can put my half baked thoughts in an abstract manner if I get the budget and claim so. It is not that hard to find a deprived soul or two that can appreciate any tripe in the name of abstract art.
The challenge is translating that into a masterpeice accessible to, if not the farah khan seeing stupid public, to a significant chunk of discerning viewers. Bhansali fails there.
One has to appreciate him for being a pied piper who diverts a lot of bollywood resources into nothing movies, though. One step at a time – let bollywood bury itself in its opulence and self-importance
P.s: baradwaj, don’t reply to this comment, earnestly, as is your wont
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rameshram
November 7, 2010
Four Lions. dont walk run. brilliant film.
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bran1gan
November 7, 2010
ReviewGang: I think the “Bhansali is overrated” claim started from Devdas itself. That was the film that made people choose one of two opposite camps — the “he’s good” camp and the “can’t stand this guy” camp.
Bala: Why Anthony Lane-ish? You mean all flash and little substance? But the film has to give me something to chew on, no? 🙂
Rakesh: Ah, yes, I remember the announcement for Bajirao Mastani. Was supposed to have Salman and Ash, no?
rameshram: Oh, heard a lot about this. Don’t think it will ever make it to these shores though… But next week, at least, there’s Social Network. Trying hard to be even-keeled about it, after those non-stop rapturous notices…
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rameshram
November 7, 2010
“All that yelling and screaming”
Amitabh is like an elephant when he chews scenery. makes a holy racket.
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Chhote Saab
November 7, 2010
Raj – Just like my wife and Sarah Palin, you’re so so so so right!!
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bran1gan
November 7, 2010
Chhote Saab: You do realise he’s calling us stupid and undiscerning, right? (Stupid for seeing farah khan films and undiscerning because of SLB) 🙂
Oh, and they didn’t chop much at all — http://epaper.expressbuzz.com/NE/NE/2010/11/07/index.shtml
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Arvind
November 7, 2010
@ Chotesaab-“Maybe that’s why he had J-L for just one movie – his other movies music-wise seem to be original (I mean Dholi Taro is probably a folk song – infact even ‘Sasural Genda Phool’ from Delhi 6 by Rahman (and Prasoon Joshi) has been claimed that it is a copy of a folk song).” …
The album has properly credited this song to a traditional folk song and the arrangements have also been credited to someone else apart from ARR. So it is not a “copy”.
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Chhote Saab
November 7, 2010
What else can I say? We DO like tripe like ‘Main hoon naa’ and ‘Devdas’ – when intelligence and discernment was being distributed by whoever was distributing, we were probably busy enjoying some tripe like ‘Yaadon ki baraat’. BTW, we were also called deprived.
And whether you agree with Raj (or not!!!), you have to give it to him, he is passionate, atleast about taking every opportunity to bash Bollywood.
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rameshram
November 7, 2010
I have only one thing to say to raj.
DEI!!!!!RAJAPANDIIIIII!!!!!! (pulls out a veech-aruvaal and charges with veshti varinjikatted,
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Chhote Saab
November 8, 2010
Arvind – that’s great. I put that down as I remember reading somewhere about a lawsuit against Prasoon Joshi for that song lyrics (not that lawsuits mean anything. Probably wrong example but my point was that music wise SLB seems fairly original.
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Keshav
November 8, 2010
Whatever said and written, the film music soes not stay with me. I would prefer to listen to hindustani vocal instead. Dull and boring music with cliched lyrics.
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Aditya Pant
November 8, 2010
Chhote Saab: I am not sure about Dholi Taro but Nibuda was clearly taken from a folk song. Here:
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raj
November 8, 2010
chhote saab, and may I have the pleasure of reminding you that you are perhaps a descendant of one of those courtiers who saw the naked emperor’s clothes on his body, when he wasnt wearing it?
ramesu, pOi puLLa kuttingaLa padikka vei
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Srikanth
November 8, 2010
Rangan,I believe you were referring to Shankar’s O Rahi Re from Luck By Chance rather than Baawre.
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Kamal Aakarsh
November 8, 2010
A list of rips in HDDCS:
1. Nimbooda – a folk song
2. Dholi Taaro – a folk song
3. Kaipoche – a folk song
4. Albela sajan – a bandish in Hindustani music. Ismail only edited it and arranged it (wonderfully though).
Now if 4 songs in an album of 10 songs are not really original, can we really call the composer as ‘Talented’
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Bala
November 8, 2010
@Baradwaj: If movies have to be bad , I hope they are of the ” so bad , they are good variety ” .Atleast then we could see some of those snarky reviews of yore 😛
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Gradwolf
November 8, 2010
@Srikanth: I think he did mean Baawre because Shankar completely owns that song despite the folk-y distractions in between. And it’s a song I love to “watch” too thanks to Hrithik-Isha dance. A superbly choreographed song, that one.
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bran1gan
November 8, 2010
OMG! Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" Wasn't Christie Brinkley After All… And the song was first called Uptown Girls, plural. Don’t you just love pop culture? 🙂
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tejas
November 8, 2010
@Kamal Akarsh –
Dholi Taro and Kaipoche are not folk songs, only Nimbooda is, from your list. Just because the songs use Gujarati words does not mean they were folk songs.
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rameshram
November 8, 2010
since when did ripping off folk songs count as unoriginal? !
rajapandi
I was channelling sukanaya from chinna gounder. Kamal in thevar magan would have gone “karpoora thevareeeee!” this is what happens when you don’t see good tamil films. your knowledge of subcastes is limited to aiyer and iyangars..and non brahmins.
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Chhote Saab
November 8, 2010
Raj – you can absolutely have the pleasure. OMG, I’m so blessed!!!! Thank you thank you so much for enlightening me on my heritage!! But as I said earlier, I don’t have the intelligence to do it myself so I need geniuses like you to help me decide what is tripe and what is not. Could you please adopt me ? – please please please, don’t refuse. Then I don’t have to waste my time on Blogical Conclusion, reading tripe written by BR and wait for comments by a genius like you to enlighten me.
Aditya Pant – Thanks for the link
Kamal Adarsh – Point taken, but look at the situations in the movie where these were used – wedding ceremonies, Garba-Dandiya session, Sankrant festival and classical singing training – the folk songs are well known Gujarati folk songs always sung in such situations (remember the Garba song in ‘Suhaag’ – another folk song adapted). And also look at the other songs in the album and Darbar’s ‘Tera Jaadu Chal Gaya’ album – seems pretty talented, though somewhat one-dimensional to me.
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Sargam
November 9, 2010
Kamal: How can you NOT call the composer of such songs as ‘Chand Chhupa’, ‘Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam’, ‘Jhonka Hawa Ka’, ‘Woh Kisna Hai’ and ‘Tera Jadoo Chal Gaya’ talented?
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raj
November 9, 2010
Ramesu, neeyi sukanyava channel paNNinA, nAnum adhe framelErundhu dhAn reply paNNanumA?
Besides, rajapandi is more madurai than gounder. You have to get your sub-caste encyclopedia corrected.
Chhote Saab, I refuse. Oh poor thing, what will you do now? 🙂
See, it is so easy to go into this personal attack mode? I didn’t start it btw. I never do. People take any comments on bollywood personally, attack me personally and then try to brand me as vituperative. SO procedure here. Just pointing it out for the discerning.
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Anand
November 9, 2010
rameshram: To go one up on raj, do you realize that you have called Chinna gounder a good tamil film? 🙂
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bran1gan
November 9, 2010
raj: Much as I enjoy you and kannagi ranting about like petulant children hopping on hot bricks, I must say you do get personal. At least the way I see it:
“Farah Khan makes stupid movies” is an impersonal way of putting a point across. It’s your POV, and it’s very valid, and it would be even better if you could substantiate your feelings. That’s what we are all here for, to discuss how each one of us feels differently about a movie or a piece of music.
But instead you choose to say things like “the farah khan seeing stupid public” — so that does get personal. You’re no longer talking about the movie, but the people who see the film, and as someone who generally enjoys her films (and is looking forward to Tees Maar Khan), I become part of the “stupid public.”
And that’s your SO. Just pointing it out for the discerning (which you are and I am clearly not, going by your definition).
The thing to remember here is that we are talking about pop culture, a completely trivial (though enjoyable and indispensable) aspect of life. I’m not curing cancer or advocating a controversial religion. And it’s downright bizarre to see people get so worked up about this.
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rameshram
November 9, 2010
raj,
youre right. I was thinking vijayakanth(madurai) while channelling chinna gounder.
Anand,
let it be known. NO film starring sukanya can be bad.(that includes films starring satyaraj.
Brannigan,
Don’t worry about raj. he’s just rebelling against his betters 😉
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Ramesh
November 9, 2010
Sau gram sounds so much like Kaatrin Mozhi from Mozhi.
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Chhote Saab
November 9, 2010
Raj – I don’t need to do anything. I have you to entertain me (it doesn’t take a lot to entertain a dimwit like me!!) . And I have my trashy movies (esp. the bollywood kind), this blog etc amongst other things to keep me entertained. Don’t feel sorry for this poor thing. The question is ,now what are you gonna do?
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raj
November 9, 2010
ramesu, sappaikattu. Your Goddess Suganya shouts rajapandi at that sakkarai gounder’s spy on Vijayakanth, not at Vijayakanth…so, pls correct your sub-caste encyclopedia. You got it wrong.
(Although going by your comments, you might have been focussing more on Suganya, hence not noticed anything else in the movie)
bran1gan, ah that is a good point. Didnt notice it myself. But honestly, I wasnt really thinking of you when i said “farah khan watching stupid public”. I mean, I was explicitly aware that I mean the masses and not you when I made that comment – you have other redeeming features, you see, so I am not going to hold this against you 🙂
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bran1gan
November 9, 2010
raj: This is not about me. You want to criticise my writing, my reviewing, my “over-analysis” or whatever, please go ahead. I have never censored such comments.
But that “masses” remark is still personal. It’s almost as bad as the rediff comments where people say things like “you Madrasis are stupid because you worship black, pot-bellied heroes.” Whether you intend it or not, it’s the same thing. On some level, it’s contemptuous and hateful.
Anyway, it’s not my business to be borderline-preaching on racial tolerance or whatever. I leave it to you and Chhote Saab to duke it out, if you guys want to. I’m outta here.
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raj
November 9, 2010
I say that of a certain doctor saar’s tamil movie watchers(fans) too – so yes it is perhaps contemptuous but definitely not hateful.
Ramesu, btw, it is not rajapandi. I don’t remember what it is, so used rajapandi in the previous comment – read it accordingly
Chhote saab, whatever.any more response from you or my reply to that will be bland and dumb. Atleast, with ramesu, there is scope for fun and interesting comments.
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rameshram
November 9, 2010
(Although going by your comments, you might have been focussing more on Suganya, hence not noticed anything else in the movie)
perceptive. also, how can I remain angry at a fellow chinna gounder fan for long?
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Chhote Saab
November 10, 2010
Raj – that’s because your head is still in the same place it was a year ago (or was it 6 months), it needs oxygen. Once it gets the air it needs, you will be able to think clearly and might be able to come up with a better (more fun and interesting) response. Till that time, you can stop responding – no really you can! I won’t get offended!
BTW, nothing personal (that seems to be your fallback when you run out of ideas/responses)
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Shankar
November 10, 2010
at last, sandai onjuthu pa…just like the cyclone!! 🙂
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raj
November 10, 2010
Right you can have the last word and you can take pride in the tritest, most unimaginative head needs oxygen response. That is as far as you will get to be interesting.
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Anand
November 10, 2010
Chhote Saab: In case you want to score a brownie point with Raj, Change you name to Chinna Yejaman!!
(shhhabba..edho ennala mudinjadhu..indha madhiri yethi vidaradhu!!)
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Anand
November 10, 2010
BR: RC-2 is shifted to Dec 3rd, apparently due to AB Sr’s request!!
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Kamal Aakarsh
November 10, 2010
@Sargam – I dont refute the fact that Ismail composed some good numbers for HDDCS & Devdas. However,they were driven by a very strong director, who has very strong likes/dislikes that rule his grammar of cinema. I would really call Ismail Darbar talented,if he composed atleast few ‘wonderful’ albums outside the Bhansali’s shadow. A talented composer must be capable of doing some good work, even without the backbone of a single specific director, that too of the likes of Bhansali who specifically dictate some of the music. Kisna/Tera Jadoo Chal gaya barely came and went. But didnt stay much. HDDCS & Devdas songs stayed with people. And both are under Bhansali’s vision. Can we have few more albums by Ismail, to be really called talented?
(by the way, i liked few songs in both HDDCS & Devdas.. i just want him prove himself, sans Bhansali).
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Kamal Aakarsh
November 10, 2010
I dont mean that Gujarati words made them into folk songs.A friend of mine once told me that Dhol Baje was indeed a folk song.and even Kaipoche was. I didnt listen to the originals though. But I myself have seen the original Nimbooda song.Nevermind, even Albela Sajan is a classical bandish and not Ismail’s composition.
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chhote saab
November 10, 2010
Raj – hahahahaha… you win! God, that was so clever, I have absolutely no clue how to respond. Tell you what, send me your address and I’ll send you 2 tickets to ‘Guzarish’ (Balcony – for your ‘highly evolved’ brain)
Anand – Great. But you’ll have to explain because I think it’s very clear that I don’t understand Tamil (I’m assuming that is a Tamil reference). Sorry:(
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raj
November 10, 2010
Anand, Why? i yAm your beshtu friend no? (Kamal and all that..)
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raj
November 10, 2010
What’s Amit-ji got to do with RC-2?
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tejas
November 10, 2010
Here’s a breaking news – they are not. Not guilty until proven. 🙂
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Anand
November 11, 2010
Bachchan bahu’s film is getting released on 19th Nov sir!!
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Anand
November 11, 2010
Chotte saab: It means Chotte saab!
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chhote saab
November 11, 2010
Anand – oh ok- makes sense:)
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sureshkumar
November 12, 2010
Making of Guzaarish Music
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Avi
November 13, 2010
DEC 3rd – When KHJJS releases
So he’s just asking to kill his sons film instead of his daughter-in-laws film
Nice.
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pr3m
November 16, 2010
dude you gotta spit out names of more chicks from South Indian movies… all of ’em got hot pictures up in Google man!
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vijay
November 18, 2010
Late response, but much needed..
“No one can question his passion or involvement in filmmaking, IMO.”
How did you know this “passion”? Were you there at the shooting spot? 🙂 This is the media hype I am talking about. Especially after that pukefest Black was considered as India’s contender for the Oscars. Talk about overrated. The hype is not just because of the star cast like BR wants to believe.
And BTW, talking about passion or involvement most directors worth their salt are “passionate” about their films if you go by what the media tells you. Even a Perarasu takes pride in his work. So? The output is what matters to a lot of us.
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Vishal
November 18, 2010
Raincoat is another album that comes to mind where the lioness is not confined in a cage. (Bhansali actually did want to work with the composer of Raincoat, Debajyoti Mishra, for Saawariya, but for some reason it didn’t work out. The Devdas theme track remains their only collaboration.)
I have not heard the entire album (Guzaarish) yet, but after reading your superb review I am already intrigued and started to get the gist of the magic created by Bhansali & the singers.
By the way, I second Aditya that a joint venture with Gulzar would surely be out of the world. And if we add Rahman into the mix, I can’t even imagine how thrilled I will be upon hearing such project!
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bran1gan
November 18, 2010
vijay: You don’t need to see a creator at work in order to detect passion. Whether or not you care for Bhansali is an entirely different thing. But if the micro-detailing in his films — from the clothes to the scene-segues to the stylisation of dialogue to the use of space in sets to the song-screenplays — does not indicate passion, I don’t know what does.
Vishal: By “Devdas theme track,” do you mean the ta-nom-tara-dhere-na that plays over the opening and closing credits? I thought that was Monty. And I thought the only external “song composer” was Pandit Birju Maharaj, who composed the magnificent ‘Kaahe chhed mohe’… (Oh, how I wish someone other than Kavita had sung this! Not a fan of her voice at all.)
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Padawan
November 18, 2010
vijay: Adding my 2 cents to what Baradwaj wrote, we never see Baradwaj work (I am hoping that he never gets to do what he promised in one of the editions of AoS as a response to Cute-Kid-Walking-1), but we for sure know that he is passionate about film analysis. Don’t we?
On a completely unrelated note, I am not a big fan of Bhansali’s work at all. I find it too loud.
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Arthi
November 19, 2010
BR, is it possible to jump to that comment when I click on a particular link provided under ‘recent comments’? I end up at the beginning of the comment block itself and have to again scroll down for the relevant….
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chhote saab
November 19, 2010
Vijay – obviously you are not a fan of SLB’s films but as Brady and Padawan pointed out you don’t have to be a fan of his work to appreciate his passion for filmmaking. We haven’t seen Gulzar, Kamal Haasan, Rahman and Illayaraja, to name just a few, at work but we can all agree to their passion about their respective work.
And no, I’m not comparing SLB and his work to these greats.
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vijay
November 20, 2010
You guys missed the smiley after my line. I said it in half-jest.
Because the way Chotte saab put it across, the tone, it sounded as if we should not even question SLB’s “passion”, as it it was something given.
As for passion, most directors worth their salt are passionate about their work. Even the ones that make masala films like Shankar. But that does’nt mean their “passion” or involvement gets marketed and sold to audiences the way SLB’s being done time and again.
“But if the micro-detailing in his films — from the clothes to the scene-segues to the stylisation of dialogue to the use of space in sets to the song-screenplays — does not indicate passion”
It only indicates that he has a certain way of doing things, nothing more. How does all of the above translate to great cinema?
There are plenty of directors out there who are as meticulous as SLB, maybe even more, without half the hype.
Once again, Black for Oscars? Puke Puke…
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bran1gan
November 20, 2010
vijay: “How does all of the above translate to great cinema?” Well, that depends on how you define “great cinema,” doesn’t it?
Passion is a way of doing things. Great cinema is the preceived result. One need not always follow the other — and I was talking only about the passion part.
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vijay
November 20, 2010
“We haven’t seen Gulzar, Kamal Haasan, Rahman and Illayaraja, to name just a few, at work but we can all agree to their passion about their respective work.”
They were more than just “passionate”. They were pretty darn good at what they did. So we didn’t have to be reminded of their “passion” regularly
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vijay
November 20, 2010
“Passion is a way of doing things. Great cinema is the preceived result. One need not always follow the other — and I was talking only about the passion part.”
I understand and that’s why I said someone like Shankar is as passionate if not more than SLB. why should SLB alone be put on a pedestal for this?
Have we talked about or defended Cheran’s passion anytime? Or Shankar’s?
Passion is just a basic prerequisite for filmmaking, nothing more.Otherwise, why are you even there?
Just because SLB takes 2-3 years to make his films and uses lavish meticulously designed sets with good looking stars in it, it doesnt mean he is the one who has the most passion.
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vijay
November 20, 2010
The director who made Mynaa recently, he is’nt any less passionate about his work than SLB, even if the movie is’nt a surefire winner. Except that no one will talk about his passion or write about it or hype it in National media or bother to nominate it for the Oscars.
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Vishal
November 20, 2010
BR: Sorry, my bad. You’re correct, that track was composed by Monty. However, according to the grapevine, SLB offered this theme-song first to Debajyoti Mishra, who declined saying that he would rather do the entire album or nothing. Then SLB turned to Monty, and will probably never work with Mishra again (given his tender ego).
The credit section of Devdas does include Debajyoti Mishra’s name in the ‘Thanks’ section. (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0238936/combined)…
P. S. Kahe Chhede Mohe truly is magnificent! I am not a big fan of Kavita’s voice either, but I don’t mind her in this song at all due to the sheer magic of Darbar’s grandiose overpowering composition.
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