How do we deal with films that promise much and deliver little? Well, it depends – doesn’t it?
A couple of Fridays ago, we saw the release of the kind of films (Mugamoodi in Tamil, Joker in Hindi) that usually bring out the debater in people who love the movies, those who look at cinema as something more than just an excuse for consuming popcorn. The debate, in my experience, runs along these lines: “If a film is atypically ambitious and if it doesn’t work, do you laud it for the attempt or do you treat it like any other film, to be judged with Solomonic solemnity?” Let me first reiterate (as I have brought up this point several times earlier) that the “if it doesn’t work” portion of the debate is purely subjective – one man’s mead is another man’s poison and so forth. But there is nothing subjective about the estimation of Mugamoodi and Joker as ambitious attempts: the former is a Chennai-based superhero story, while the latter deals with crop circles and aliens in a village that thinks WWII is still going on.
Had these films worked (both at the box office and among audiences), their directors would have achieved the near-impossible – the telling of unique stories in a mainstream format, at least as far as Indian audiences are concerned. And these “Indian audiences” become an important factor in the discussions of those who think that concessions must be made for these films while evaluating them. The logic typically goes like this: “Indian audiences have been dining off platefuls of crap for decades. They’re used to seeing the same thing over and over. So any filmmaker with new ideas has to journey on a familiar path, even if he’s telling an unfamiliar story. So there will be item songs and comedy scenes and fights. You cannot change the taste of the audience overnight. The progress has to be incremental.” I don’t buy this argument – at least not entirely. The filmmaker, in my opinion, has to be true to his story, rather than to the audience – and if he cannot make this story the way it deserves to be made, then he shouldn’t make it at all.
Because if he makes these stories with all these compromises, the films will end up in a limbo, and we’ll constantly have to keep saying (while watching the film) “Oh that bit sucks, but yes, let’s not make too much of it because this has been made for an Indian audience.” Or the filmmaker should really work out the script in such a way that these commercial compromises are folded in organically, so that they become a part of the story – like what we saw in Eega/Naan Ee, which is this year’s textbook on how to make great masses of people flock to a movie with a unique idea at its core. It’s not impossible. It just takes work, and filmmakers who want to take on unusual themes should be willing to put in this work. If we went to a restaurant and the menu advertised a dish that’s difficult to pull off, and if the dish came to us undercooked, would we praise the attempt or walk away grumbling? The same principle is at work here.
There is the expectation, we carry into the theatre, of a certain degree of professionalism, and if that’s not there, we should not hesitate to say that something doesn’t work. Of course, if it’s a first-time filmmaker, we might make an exception – this is possibly the only case where we may praise an “attempt,” like a pat of encouragement. (Though even here, a reviewer will not be doing his job – and a film lover will not be doing justice to his passion – if he doesn’t point out the things that went wrong.) But otherwise, when these films arrive with multicrore production budgets and are sold to us with multicrore publicity budgets, it isn’t unreasonable to expect that at least a few lakhs had been directed towards an ironclad script. (Most of the time, we get an interesting idea, the germ for a script, but not an interesting script – and there’s only so far you can go on just the strength of an idea.)
What we could (and should) do – if there is some vision, some thought evident; if there is the sense that genuine effort went into the making; and if we walk away with the feeling that there are more things right than wrong – is treat these films with respect, and not dismiss them with the outright condescension we reserve for platefuls of crap like Jism 2. We could be more measured in tone, stating our reservations not with contempt but as fact. But is this always feasible in this era of social media, where brusqueness is a way of life? Yes, criticism is crushing for the director – but when people undertake a profession in the public eye, they have to equip themselves with mental armour. After all, no one forced them to do this job. They could always go and find something that requires them to sit all day in an anonymous cubicle, from where they can join the opposition, the chorus of opinion dispensers. As the refrain goes, no one was ever promised a rose garden.
Lights, Camera, Conversation… is a weekly dose of cud-chewing over what Satyajit Ray called Our Films Their Films. An edited version of this piece can be found here.
Copyright ©2012 The Hindu. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Gradwolf
September 7, 2012
Are you watching too much Masterchef Australia?
PS
Yes, I do have a few things to say on this topic but I’ll come back soon for that.
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Vicky
September 7, 2012
Did you saw attakathi by a first timer. Waiting for your thoughts on that if you had time do watch naan too.
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ss122
September 7, 2012
nice article br. outright
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ss122
September 7, 2012
and the ‘click here’ link leads to a different hindu artcile, written by u
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Rahul
September 7, 2012
Agreed with the first part of your article. Take the example of LSD. It was a successful and a good movie with no pandering involved to mainstream traditions .
But I disagree that these people or movies deserve any respect. I have more condescension for wanna be cool movies like 7 Khoon Maaf , Kaminey etc than say a Jism 2.
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brangan
September 7, 2012
Gradwolf: Actually I don’t watch that show at all. Don’t watch much TV really except for the series I follow (like “Dexter” and so on). Why do you ask?
Vicky: “Naan” worked pretty well for me. It’s based on “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” and they adapted it quite well. The hero’s acting deficiencies, thankfully, did not mar the movie too much. “Attakathi” was nice (and the hero was very good). They did something that’s really difficult — which is to sustain a vibe throughout the film. But after a point it became a little monotonous. Felt it could’ve been shorter.
ss122: Fixed.
Rahul: I was only talking about mainstream films. It’s far easier to be true to the subject when your making these arty films. Much more difficult with big-budget experiments.
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Filmbuff
September 7, 2012
Although I’m aware you were not a fan, I thought “Endhiran” did a fantastic job in being both something unique to Indian cinema (sci-fi-action) while still maintaining all the usual commercial ingredients (songs, comedy, sentiment, etc.) in a reasonably organic way.
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Filmbuff
September 7, 2012
Btw it is our false notion that non-Indians don’t like masala. I showed Endhiran to a bunch of my non-Indian friends and they simply loved it. Their favorite scene?…(You’re not gonna believe this…) the MOSQUITO scene haha
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omfgitsrohit
September 7, 2012
“The filmmaker, in my opinion, has to be true to his story, rather than to the audience – and if he cannot make this story the way it deserves to be made, then he shouldn’t make it at all.”
– Exactly. I don’t see why we shouldn’t extend this principle (from the film-maker’s intentions) to the film-makers abilities. Why go easy on films that expect to be rewarded solely for their ambitions? Why take on more than you can handle? The higher you aim the further you have to fall. And that is exactly why Mysskin’s films really bother me. Naan, too, I really hated. I’d rather the film-maker goes for something like Attakathi than take the audience for granted. There was a film that released a week before Naan did called Eppadi Manasukkul Vandhai, also an adaptation of The Talented Mr.Ripley. I thought it was much better. Did you see it?
I just love how your articles just somehow wind up ending in themselves. Like, this is this. That is that…. period. It works so well only because you raise a lot of questions before finally slamming your gavel with your conclusion. You take us through all those thoughts before finally reaching your conclusion.
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venkatesh
September 7, 2012
I will have no words said against Jism-2.
On a serious note , why a poster/photo of 7-am arivu ? Do you consider that to be one of those – attempted to do the right thing but ended up as crap – movie ?
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Vicky
September 7, 2012
Do share your thoughts briefly for that small movies too.
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Utkal Mohanty
September 8, 2012
I think like most things in life, it’s a question of degree. A film that is ambitious at concept level but gets nowhere near achieving it does not deserve too much respect. films like Joker, Ra One, Saawariya and to some extent Raavan come to mind.
If it manages to realize some of its vision , it surely gets our appreciative nod. Rockstar, Yuva, Guzaarish and to much lesser extent Naach Nishabd.
Of course very few films are high on ambition and realise it almost 100%. They get to be termed as a classic of course. Lagaan, Delhi Belly and Gangs of Wasseypur are good example… films that were true to the stories they were telling..without compromise…however against the standard commercial grain they might have been… and the audiences accepted the stories because of the sincerity.
But a film with low ambition , in my opinion, does not deserve any respect. Okay you wanted to give some real cheap entertainment and you succeeded? So? What you wanted to do was despicable any way. So doing it well does not get you any marks. I cant name any right now, because I have not been seeing these films going by their trailers and audience feedback.
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rameshram
September 8, 2012
condescending much?!
Let me give you an analogy that may work… If instead of movies you were reviewing food, how would this work? do you go to a star hotel banquet and review it like you would a small japanese place that produces elite fare? or would you go to a street idli and masal vadai vendor and try to reframe his creations as you would french cuisine?
If you did, it is the cook’s fault or are you the one coming across as semi educated in the fine art of criticism ?
an artist (auteur) has a set of conceits against which his film is evaluated. he may be wayyyy off the mark in having these conceits (eg: I may think I’m making a suer hero film while everybody else may be laughing at him) or even if he’s ON the mark, people may find his work not palatable for some other reason, doesn’t matter the crucial question is where is the locus of “our” response to the art is located. If a critic (not you brannigan! :D) can find how people respond, even in terms of a set of lowest common denomenator gut check responses, and thence, formulate the emotional response to a coherent critical response, that’s enough “talking about art”. All the rest is just The Hindu Paying brannigan by the word.
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rameshram
September 8, 2012
The last para above came across incoherent. (I blame the work in the bottle). it should read so:
an artist (auteur) has a set of conceits against which his film is evaluated. he may be wayyyy off the mark in having these conceits (eg: I may think I’m making a super hero film while everybody else may be laughing at me) or even if he’s ON the mark, people may find his work not palatable for some other reason,
The crucial question is where is the locus of “our” response to the art is located. If a critic (not you brannigan! ) can find how people respond emotionally to a film, even in terms of a set of lowest common denomenator gut check responses, and thence, formulate his emotional response to a coherent critical-intellectual response, that’s enough “talking about art”. All the rest is just The Hindu Paying brannigan by the word.
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Banno
September 8, 2012
Not to mention the astronomical ticket prices. I paid 300 rupees per ticket for ‘Joker’. That feels like a con, when you see that the filmmaker has made no concerted attempt to draw out his ‘idea’ into a film.
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omfgitsrohit
September 8, 2012
If people want to see cheap entertainment and if you love making cheap entertainment, why not tend to them? I think there has to be some amount of objectivity in critiquing. Take something as redundant as Velayudham. I must say, I had quite a time with it.
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brangan
September 8, 2012
omfgitsrohit: reg. “Why take on more than you can handle?” That’s something you find out only when you do something right? I’ll probably suck at writing political analyses, but unless I give it a shot, I’ll never really know, will I? Also, unless people stretch, how will they know what they’re really capable of? You’ll get stuck in a rut otherwise.
Didn’t see “Eppadi Manasukkul Vandhai.” Didn’t know about the Ripley connection. Is this the film by the “Kaadhalil Vizhundhen” director?
And thanks for this: “you raise a lot of questions before finally slamming your gavel with your conclusion.” In these pieces, actually, I raise a lot more questions that I give conclusions. They’re more like discussion starters (not the final word on a topic), and on a good day, when readers weigh in, the resulting thread can be really rewarding.
venkatesh: Oh because that was a film that kinda fit this column. It had that whole “compromised vision” thing going on.
Vicky: Small movies don’t usually end up too “compromised” from the original vision. If there’s a problem, it’s probably due to the fact that the script went awry or something (i.e. the original vision was itself problematic), but these films don’t have too much of that let-me-do-this-for-the-masses thing.
But yes, like we do for first-timers, we may say good attempt or whatever, but ultimately the film has to stand on its own legs.
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Gradwolf
September 8, 2012
Oh that was about the whole “undercooked” analogy, so asked.
Did you read this?
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/08/a-critics-manifesto.html
This is the line that struck: “There is usually something to like in even the weakest work—just as there is nearly always some weakness in the strongest work; most reviews, if anything, should be somewhat mixed. (It may be a sign of how harmful the culture of reflexive “liking” has become that what are, in fact, mixed reviews are denounced as if they were take-downs.)”
The problem here is exactly that. Something has to be great. If it is not great, it is bad, downright trashy. The moderation is missing and that’s what irks the most. Nitpicking has become cool. What do you think of something like Vigil Idiot reviews? Firstly, they are fun! It’s tough to not admit that. But can it be considered a legitimate review? Most “mainstream” audience agree. I disagree because a lot of perspective is lost. It’s a take down because it is predetermined to be a take down as that’s what at least 90% of Bollywood films deserve apparently. Now the same people will love Mission Impossible: 4 (I loved it). But pass the same film through the Vigil Idiot filter and you can devise a take down of what is essentially a very good film. No offense to Sahil Rizwan who does that (he follows me on Twitter, we often talk on films, tv etc), he is extremely talented in this regard, but is it considered legitimate criticism? Definitely those who see it as an excuse for consuming popcorn think so. And some belonging to the “something more than just an excuse for consuming popcorn” camp do so too, I feel. It’s mildly inga onnu solra anga onnu solra feel.
I ranted similarly long ago and Amrita (#youremember) had this to say:
“I guess I watch different cinemas with in different mindsets? In Bollywood, the first thing that connects to me is sincerity. It’s so easy to see when someone’s made a cynical “product” as opposed to a movie.
I also think I used to be a lot more harsh when I didn’t have to write down my opinions. Writing and editing make me think harder, ask more questions, and evolve flippant one liners I might make with my friends to thoughts that I find accurate and defensible. And that’s what I respond to in the writing of others as well.”
You used professionalism. I think sincerity is really the word here though the point is just the same.
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venkatesh
September 8, 2012
These are the sort of comments i come here for , well said.
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venkatesh
September 8, 2012
BR: “7 aum arivu” – compromised vision – i just thought it was a rank bad film, it failed the “Don’t bore me test”. Nothing more nothing less.
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omfgitsrohit
September 8, 2012
That is true. So, they have the freedom to go ahead and do that. But, I just don’t see why we should sugar-coat our reviews. Mysskin’s films are clearly style over substance. Don’t you think? I don’t know how aware he is of what he’s doing but they come across as very, very self-indulgent. He does successfully get across his own dark, visual style that he’s managed to find but I think the story suffers greatly in the process. I remember bottling up anger when the film cut to the visual of those two fools on the jib of a crane. There’s no balance in any of his films. Everything is extreme. And what the heck is his obsession with loyalty? Ah fuck it, I could vent all day. But coming back to the point, I just don’t think we should go easy on these guys. If a film takes itself seriously, you’re more likely to take it seriously and get influenced by it. The common crowd are like a flock of sheep with no identity, they’ll buy into almost anything (Just look at this http://www.behindwoods.com/tamil-movie-news-1/sep-12-01/thuppakki-kalla-thuppakki-01-09-12.html). Film is such a huge and powerful medium. Most people get their exposure from there. So, when these fucks preach about altruism, don’t you think one of these gullible fools could be inspired to make an ‘altruistic’ (as perceived) life choice and suffer in the process? All for the cost of living up to the image of a virtual ideal? I don’t see why we should let these guys, who’re going to make so much money and much more, preach about altruism and get away with it.
And yes, it’s by the same director of Kaadhalil Vizhundhen.
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omfgitsrohit
September 8, 2012
That’s because most people want to know whether it’s worth the price of a ticket, or isn’t. Purely subjective reviews offer a more clear conclusion than those that maintain a balance between objectivity and subjectivity. They want a verdict. Then they make a choice based on that verdict.
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 11, 2012
Talking of films and their ambitions, I thought it would be helpful to talk with a concrete example in front of us.
Many have said after seeing Gangs of Wasseypur, yes it is very entertaining, has great performances and all that but what is the point? My riposte to that is , “ Tell me, what is the ‘ point’ of a novel like ‘ One Hundred Years of Solitude” ? The problem is that most films are so low on ambition that we don’t give them the same respect that we offer a literary novel . I think GOW deserves that kind of approach.
A good novel does not restrict itself to just telling a story. It often tells many stories. And more than that it gives us an experience, raises questions, and provides a philosophical framework for questions to be asked? It gives birth to new expressions. It populates our minds with chrcaters with whom we develop a life-long relationships. And on that very rare occasion, comes a novel that changes the very manner in which we look at life. So instead of providing definite answers and conveying straightforward message it raises questions and inundates our minds with sensations and thoughts.
How does Gangs of Wasseypur stacks up against a very good novel?
Now as it happens , the whole of last month or so , my mind has been so full of GOW that I have been hardly thinking of anything else, leaving aside the mundane tasks of everyday life of course. In fact after seeing GOW 1 and 2 separately , and the 1&2 together, I haven’t seen another film. Partly because my mind isn’t free to take in another film….until I I am through with my experiencing GOW. In the car I often listen to ‘ Frustiao nahin moora’ over and again for the entire length of my journey from home to office, because I can’t bear another song to interfere with the experience. I did so with ‘ Womaniya’, “ Jiya ho Bihar Ke Lala’ “ Ek bagal mein ho chand” and “ Electric Piya” for quite a while.
To get back, what can these thoughts, feelings and sensations that GOW sparks in our minds? I thought let me a little concrete on this instead of hiding behind big abstract words.
The many avenues of thought and feelings that the film takes my mind to include :
– human relationship in terrains infested with violence
– value of human life when murder is routine
– nature of women’s love for men who are killers
– family bonds against backdrop of killing of other families
– nature of everyday life in an environment where murder is a way of life
– the soft cores within murderers’ hearts
– what makes a murderer cry?
– when does a mother want her son to become a killer?
– why did Muhammad think of allowing men to have 4 wives?
– behind every great fortune is a great crime
– how do we relate songs to situations in life? situations in films?
– what is the language of poetry? when does street language becomes poetic language?
– how does folk music becomes relevant to a modern man ..and not just as exotica?
– what do words like ‘ gaand’ do to us? how do they compare with words like ‘ layered’ ‘ gestural’, ‘ nuanced’ in terms of expressiveness and power?
– Is there anything like good or evil? isn’t it true that most of us just try to get by?
– how would it be to live a life that has a everyday relationship with death? Isn’t that better than one where death is brushed under the carpet, knowing very well that death is certain?
These are some that I could put down in words. There are many more playing around in subterranean nooks and folds of my mind. Like any genuine work of art should.
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 11, 2012
The comments of the Booker judges may be relevant here:
“After re-reading an extraordinary longlist of 12, it was the pure power of prose that settled most debates,” said chair of judges Peter Stothard, editor of the Times Literary Supplement. “We loved the shock of language shown in so many different ways and were exhilarated by the vigour and vividly defined values in the six books that we chose – and in the visible confidence of the novel’s place in forming our words and ideas.”
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 11, 2012
From the Booker judges once again:
At Foyles, Jonathan Ruppin said that all six novels “do so much more than simply tell an engaging story: they are written with wit, insight and, above all, pathos, offering profound commentaries on the human condition”. Tipping Moore’s “moody and exquisite” The Lighthouse to take the prize, Ruppin said the selection was “a huge vote of confidence for the novel as an artform, as vibrant and essential as it has ever been
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Govardhan Giridass
September 12, 2012
“In fact after seeing GOW 1 and 2 separately , and the 1&2 together, I haven’t seen another film. Partly because my mind isn’t free to take in another film….until I I am through with my experiencing GOW.” So you didn’t watch Mugamoodi (or Moogamudi as you prefer to call it) then? If no, then what were you rabbiting on about?
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 12, 2012
Govardhan Giridass: Yes, Moogamoodi. I had plain forgotten about it. That’s the one I had walked into on a whim, as it was running in a single-screen theater near home. Though I knew nothing about the film, the ticket price was low and i and a free few hours on a weekend. So technically, I did see a film. But I have not really planned to see another film for a while. But there is nothing sacrosanct about seeing another film. The point I was trying to mkae is that this one film had been in my mind a whole lot. But yes, I did see Moogamodi in this period.
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Govardhan Giridass
September 12, 2012
“nothing sacrosanct about seeing another film” – except contradicting yourself and destroying the fulcrum around which your looooooooong essay revolved. But that’s okay uncle. With great age comes great memory blanks. Goodbye, Shri Utkal Ranjan ‘Moogamoodi’/’Moogamodi’. I’m sure in time you’ll work your way through all permutations of the film’s title, except the correct one.
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 12, 2012
Govardhan: It would be so much more fun discussing GOW and its ambitions , its achievements rather than whether I saw Moogamoodi and what was its correct title ( It was not a subtitled print and I don’t understand Tamil). Okay I have memory blanks. So? I dont see how not seeing another film is the fulcrum around which my essay revolves. I don’t see how seeing another film over a period of three weeks negates my deep involvement with GOW. I don’t see how the many points i have raised from the film has anything to do with whether I saw another film or not.
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Govardhan Giridass
September 12, 2012
You don’t see it, yet you wrote it. Enjoy your GOW discussion. Disappointed you didn’t find a new spelling for Mugamoodi. Pity.
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 13, 2012
What if we applied the relevant points from this memo for writing criticism and other non-fiction writing?
The better you write, the higher you go in Ogilvy & Mather. People who think well, write well.
Woolly minded people write woolly memos, woolly letters and woolly speeches.
Good writing is not a natural gift. You have to learn to write well. Here are 10 hints:
1. Read the Roman-Raphaelson book on writing*. Read it three times.
2. Write the way you talk. Naturally.
3. Use short words, short sentences and short paragraphs.
4. Never use jargon words like reconceptualize, demassification, attitudinally, judgmentally. They are hallmarks of a pretentious ass.
5. Never write more than two pages on any subject.
6. Check your quotations.
7. Never send a letter or a memo on the day you write it. Read it aloud the next morning—and then edit it.
8. If it is something important, get a colleague to improve it.
9. Before you send your letter or your memo, make sure it is crystal clear what you want the recipient to do.
10. If you want ACTION, don’t write. Go and tell the guy what you want.
David
http://thefuturebuzz.com/2012/02/17/writing-tips-from-david-ogilvy/
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omfgitsrohit
September 13, 2012
What happened to this thread? I thought it was going in the right direction.
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brangan
September 13, 2012
omfgitsrohit: reg. “But, I just don’t see why we should sugar-coat our reviews.” Of course we shouldn’t — IF we feel there’s nothing to it. But if there are interesting things we wish to point out, then that should be done too, within the framework of a negative review. This is not sugar-coating.
Gradwolf: Excellent point. I think I should have used the more specific word “sincerity” instead of the more blanket term “professionalism.” About this line you quoted (There is usually something to like in even the weakest work…), I agree completely and I still get flak for “not making up my mind” about a film. I’ll tell them that these things worked for me and these things didn’t, and I have nothing more to add. But that doesn’t fly.
As I’ve said several times earlier, what’s important to me is not whether I liked the film or not but WHY I liked it (or did not like it). And those reasons, those explanations take time and a number of words. I still think that my review of RGV’s Not a Love Story was one of my better ones, but a lot of people just could not get past the fact that I liked the film. They’d ask, “But how can you like this film?” And I’d say,” It’s all there in the bloody review. Just read it.” 🙂
Sometimes people can’t get beyond the fact that you’re not in sync with them about a film, and anything you say after that they’re not interested in listening to — or they’ll say “you’re seeing thinsg that are not there.” But when THEY like a film and “see things,” then that’s apparently the gospel truth 🙂
I really enjoy Vigil Idiot reviews — but as you say, it’s not reviewing/criticism. I look at it like a Mag magazine spoof — nothing more. But on the other hand, you can’t expect everyone to have the time or the interest to read long, analytical reviews.
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Utkal Ranjan Mohanty
September 13, 2012
Thank god. at last someone in India is getting wise to the idea I mooted in a post here sometime back:
“Well not the one in hospitals but probably stopping the scripts from entering ICU. Get it.. na.. okay alow us.. after being a producer and a film maker with a different approach.
Anurag Kashyap will now don the doctor’s hat and will now be serving as a script doctor whenever the situation demands. It is learnt that Anurag Kashyap has turn script doctor for his friend and colleague Vikas Bahl from Phantom productions for ‘Queen’.
Phantom is the first all directors’ company of India it’s a collaborative idea and everyone works in synergy.
Their working style is unique and it reflects as their adopting ways such as script doctoring in India.
Internationally once the script is written it always goes to the script doctor for taking external advise for the betterment of the script and making it stronger as taking a third eye perspective always is beneficial for any creative process.
A director always finds it very difficult to find someone whom he can bounce off ideas and discuss his script with. At the same point of time, it is very necessary to do so.
Hence Phantom has now started this trend which is widely followed internationally.
Vikas Bahl shares, “It’s great to have a script doctor working on your film and someone like the sheer brilliance that Anurag Kashyap is works best for the film.
We are very thankful to him that he can on board as the script doctor for the film.”
http://www.indiaglitz.com/channels/hindi/article/86087.html
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omfgitsrohit
September 13, 2012
Ah, perhaps. But wouldn’t that be difficult? And Isn’t that being slightly apologetic? I mean if I find a film absolutely appalling, I’m not sure I can bring myself to say “However, this guy’s acting is good,” or “But this song is pleasing to the ears.” If these flashes of brilliance bring little to the overall experience and are overshadowed by the crappy rest, why point them out?
But I guess your Bullet Point Report format can easily accommodate such a requirement. Hmm. I think I’ve asked you this before and not gotten a reply but why use such a format for Indian movies? Is it because Indian movies lack form, a certain wholeness, being mostly masala? Or is there something else to it?
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brangan
September 13, 2012
omfgitsrohit: It is neither difficult nor apologetic. Films, like everything else in the world, is not a self-formed whole but a sum of parts, and if some of those parts make an impression on you, then you have to point it out. You seem to view film in absolutes — either it’s all good or all bad and there’s no middle ground,
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Utkal Mohanty
September 13, 2012
brangan: “Films, like everything else in the world, is not a self-formed whole but a sum of parts, and if some of those parts make an impression on you, then you have to point it out. ”
But like everything in the world it is a question of proportion. If a film as whole is appalling, but has a few good components, it is only fair to the film and to the readers, to pint out how appalling it is first , then talk about the few aspects that appealed to you. And the same sense of proportion and prioritization should apply to a film that is a cut above the rest overall, but may have a few problems. Most readers are exasperated, when this balance is not maintained. Quite often , you talk ol;y about the good points of an appalling film, forgetting even to mention how appalling it is in the first place. And the same goes for a really good film that you find problem with, when you talk about its merits only in the last sentence, just in passing, after pointing g ot all its problems.
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omfgitsrohit
September 14, 2012
Of course, not. That’s not what I’m saying. I just find that rule, not just hard to adhere to, but quite unnecessary. Maybe I took that ‘should’ within brackets too seriously.
Take your review of Vazhakku Enn 18/9, there’s more anger and emotion in it than even your cleverly crafted Jism 2 review. There was a particular aspect that stood out more than the rest and you seemed really bothered by it. Imagine inserting a line or two about the performances or the music; it would seem incongruous with the tone of your review. They didn’t seem to matter. And while you did manage to talk about a few positives, your urge to end your review on the same note you began with (and wanted to continue with) is apparent. Did it really matter that Shakthivel opted for a roundabout narrative style? Or that he used a neo-realistic approach? Your problems with the film were at a more basic level, the highly judgemental way in which Shakthivel (mis)perceived city dwellers.
So if there are SERIOUS problems at a script level, does it matter how the film-maker has translated it on screen? Or that I was impressed by an acting moment? I think not. The film didn’t deserve to be made, meaning, it’s a huge waste of time and resources.
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brangan
September 14, 2012
omfgitsrohit: There’s more anger and emotion in the “Vazhakku Enn 18/9” review because the film continued to play on a tired theme that I’ve frankly had quite enough of. That irritation showed in the writing.
Reg. “Imagine inserting a line or two about the performances or the music; it would seem incongruous with the tone of your review.”
Not at all. I did mention the performances/music in these lines: “Even the sole song in the film is a real song, with dialogues in place of interludes.)”
And, “But there’s a difference between picking non-professional actors and non-actors in a film that often requires melodramatic performing styles. There are many scenes that wilt away because of the incompetence of the people in them, like the one where the protagonist’s parents are beaten up in their village by moneylenders — the staging is nonexistent.”
And my key evaluation of the movie lay in the lines: “Sakthivel has zoomed in on a superb subject, about the have-nots from elsewhere who are forced to seek livelihoods in big, churning cities that grind them into anonymity (the film zooms in on a single have-not and investigates his possible involvement in a criminal case), but these stories, unlike our masala movies where we demand no engagement with reality or plausibility, come with the responsibility that — like the court case of the title suggests — both sides are represented with equal sincerity. And when that doesn’t happen, there’s nothing to do but laugh it all off. ”
So this review WAS like my other reviews, containing:
(1) What worked for me.
(2) What didn’t.
(3) And a sense of an overall (subjective) estimation.
It’s just that the tone of the review pissed people off, otherwise the content is exactly what I always write.
Utkal Mohanty: “If a film as whole is appalling, but has a few good components, it is only fair to the film and to the readers, to pint out how appalling it is first…”
I disagree. Why should I begin with a sense of “overall estimation” of the film, and only then go into specifics? That is how you do it in fifth standard essays (following the teacher’s injunction, “from the outside to the inside, from the general to the particular”), but you cannot be doing that all your life. Every review of mine WILL have a mention of the things that worked for me and the things that didn’t. But which comes first is something that decides itself when I write.
“Quite often , you talk ol;y about the good points of an appalling film, forgetting even to mention how appalling it is in the first place.”
But maybe I did not think the film was that appalling. Why do you presume that your estimation of a film is the same as mine? If you’re just looking for agreement, then why read me (or any critic, for that matter) at all? Why not read someone’s take and say, “Hmmm… interesting, even if I didn’t look at the film that way.” Why get… “exasperated”?
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tejas
September 14, 2012
Offtopic – http://www.artofthetitle.com/ and
http://www.flavorwire.com/326643/10-auteurs-and-the-typefaces-they-love?all=1
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Govardhan Giridass
September 14, 2012
So glad that Anurag listened to you…
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Govardhan Giridass
September 14, 2012
“That is how you do it in fifth standard essays”. Superb stuff. Apdi podu machi.
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omfgitsrohit
September 14, 2012
Your key evaluation was you carving up some kittens. 😀
Anyway, I suppose you’re right. I guess it takes time to find that balance. I check out my drafts, see a positive (or two) mentioned but I dismiss it immediately because it is negligible in view of my overall experience. I’m not sure I want to achieve this balance you speak of, at least at this point, because I still don’t feel comfortable doing it. I see your point and understand it but I just don’t feel its necessity, yet.
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Vasisht Das
September 14, 2012
dr. rangan,
just when we thought the controversial shenanigans of the erstwhile Professore was fading away, it looks like he has morphed into a self-serious bore who often hijacks this forum and takes off on tedious tangents. yet another contrarian in love with only his own pontifications.
at least the Professore was pithy and amusing where the latest entrant is, (let me christen him hereforth) a rambling LECTURER – Moooganty !
Shudder.
“yen saar ivangallaam deisign-designaa nammla taarture panraanga…?”
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Govardhan Giridass
September 14, 2012
Where is Manobala when we need him? Though the Engeyum Eppodum remix was a real highlight of the movie. And the updating of the bicycle thief to motorcycle thief and the abrupt change and change backs of POV’s were inspired I thought. And before anyone says it, yen-cycle-a-pidiya!
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