At the Jio MAMI film festival with vampiric mermaids, touchingly liberal Indians, a donkey laden with symbolism, an unusual gay pairing, a rape fantasy, and a sparklingly restored version of ‘Teesri Manzil’.
This year’s Mumbai Film Festival played out differently. Usually, I flip through the catalogue and say, “I have to see this film. And this one. And this one.” This time, I went, “Oh, I’ve seen this one. And this one. And this.” I was part of the selection committee for international films. If people came with tag lines, mine would say: “I saw The Lure before you did.” This Polish entry is something I’ve been recommending to everyone. It’s got vampiric mermaids, lesbianism, and buckets of blood that lead to a murder investigation. It also has songs that go “Time’s flowing like sweat off a midwife.” Every festival needs an out-there attraction that offers the pure and singular visceral pleasures only the cinema can provide. The Lure was that film this year. Sometimes, the question isn’t “Does it make sense?” or “Is it an important subject?”. It’s “What would you get if Hunter S Thompson wrote The Little Mermaid?”.
A more surreal question was posed by the screening of Agraharathil Kazhuthai (Donkey in a Brahmin Ghetto, 1977), the only Tamil film made by John Abraham, the maverick filmmaker from a time we weren’t yet labelling filmmakers as mavericks: What would it be like to see a work by this socially conscious, avant garde director in a PVR Gold Class screen, with reclining armchair-seats – each with a blanket, a reading light, a buzzer to summon an attendant – that must cost more than the film’s budget? What an exciting time Tamil cinema must have been for art-film lovers of the 1970s. If Rudraiah was channelling Godard in Aval Appadithan, here was Abraham, breathing new life into Bresson’s donkey from Au Hasard Balthazar. Bresson said his film’s much-abused animal was a symbol of Christian faith. Abraham’s donkey is abused by Tamil Brahmins. Even Abraham must not have been surprised that the film was banned. The sight of Kamal Haasan in a loincloth (in 16 Vayathinile) was shocking enough in 1977. The image of an elderly man wrapping the sacred thread around his ears as he sat down to defecate in the open must have been the straw that broke the donkey’s back.
But Abraham’s film – filled with animal skulls, infant corpses, and pointedly repeated shots of actions (even the intertitles are repeated) – isn’t about Brahmin-bashing. It’s about human-bashing. The community is a stand-in for hypocrisy and bigotry. There’s calm contemplation in the invocation of Nietzsche: “Can an ass be tragic? To perish under a burden one can neither bear nor throw off? The case of the philosopher.” There’s fury in the invocation of Subramanya Bharathi’s Oozhi Koothu (The Dance of Doom), verses from which thunder over the final portions. Part of the fascination of watching a film from a unique filmmaker is how uniquely he hints at his foundational philosophies – through a copy of A Death in the Family, the novel by the writer/film critic James Agee, or a book by Che Guevara, who, had he stepped into that PVR Gold Class theatre, would have declared, “The revolution starts here.”
* * *
To see N Padmakumar’s well-acted A Billion Colour Story is to see how little has changed since 1977. The film could be subtitled Muslim in a Hindu Ghetto. The “donkey,” this time, is a filmmaker named Imran Aziz, who married his college-mate Parvati. In one of the film’s many twee touches, they call their son Hari Aziz. That name isn’t just Hindu. It’s also Asimov. It comes from the mathematics professor in the Foundation series. Parvati, meanwhile, reads out passages from Jonathan Livingston Seagull as Hari goes to sleep. The boy calls his parents “boho,” and this applies to the director too, whose give-peace-a-chance characters seem to be smoking whatever Lennon was when he wrote Imagine. Imran sets out to make a film that will make Indians reflect on what the country has come to. The director does the same. The film bites off more than it can chew: it could be called A Billion Issue Story. Still, earnestness isn’t the worst thing, especially when Padmakumar transforms people from traditionally conservative communities (Jats, Muslims, Tamil Brahmins) into liberal beacons of hope and change. He makes you imagine.
And Sudhanshu Saria really makes you imagine. His film, Loev, is about gay characters, but not about gay relationships – at least the way usually depicted in the movies. Two men, one of whom is in a relationship with another man, take off on a trip. Are they exes? Friends with benefits? We keep wondering. Saria’s distancing ploy doesn’t help us empathise, but perhaps empathy isn’t the point. This isn’t a journey. It’s a ride. We’re simply meant to be co-passengers. Paul Verhoeven’s magnificent Elle, a black comedy about an intensely troubled woman (the superb Isabelle Huppert) who heals herself through what appears to be a rape fantasy, invites even less empathy. If the woman herself is in on the joke (her company makes video games that feed violent sexual fantasies), is it okay to enjoy the macabre humour? “Rape, obviously, is the most heinous crime imaginable,” the Emmy-winning comedian Sarah Silverman said. “Rape jokes are great.” Would we be laughing if Louis CK said this?
* * *
For a less subversive evening, I slipped into a screening of Teesri Manzil (1965), which was playing in a restored version that reminded us that bright orange lapels were once a thing. The prospect of watching this film – written and produced by Nasir Husain, directed by Vijay Anand – on the big screen (my first time) was incentive enough. But there was also a panel discussion later, moderated by Nasreen Munni Kabir, and featuring the producer’s family (children Nuzhat Khan and Mansoor Khan, nephew Aamir Khan) and writer Akshay Manwani, whose new book, Music Masti Modernity, is about the cinema of Nasir Husain.(I will be in conversation with Manwani at The Hindu Lit for Life next January.) Sample nugget: “A number of Hindi films show the hotel or the club as a place from where the villain operates, or as a space that belongs to the vamp… On the contrary, Husain celebrated the club/hotel as a place of fun and music, where audiences – be it the youth or the elite – were entertained.”
As were the audiences in the theatre. Teesri Manzil, the first of the legendary collaborations between Husain and RD Burman, has two of the most iconic club songs of Hindi cinema. There’s O haseena zulfon wali, which is essentially what would happen if a Salvador Dali painting sprang to life, knocked back a couple of martinis, and began to boogie with Helen. Then there’s Aaja aaja, where Shammi Kapoor and Asha Parekh seem to be getting dance instructions from Elvis Presley in the throes of an epileptic fit. (Manwani’s book doesn’t confirm the rumours that the Filmfare committee, after viewing the sequence, was on the verge of instituting a new award category: Most Calories Burned during a Song.) This isn’t the first instance of a heroine performing in a club. There was Madhubala in Howrah Bridge (1958), seducing Ashok Kumar (and the audience) with Aayiye meherbaan. But her name was Edna. She was Christian, which meant she was “Western.” Asha Parekh, on the other hand, is Sunita. Teesri Manzil made it safe for good Hindu girls to have a good time in – you’d better be sitting down for this – establishments that served liquor. And what about Shammi Kapoor? Bhagwan Dada may have earlier established that the hero could dance too, but the hero as dancer-performer was still an oddity, an Uday Shankar in Kalpana, a Gopi Krishna in Jhanak Jhanak Paayal Baaje. But Shammi made dancing so cool that shaking a leg became as much a part of the leading man’s CV as accepting a spoonful of gajar ka halwa from his loving mother. Shammi paved the way for Jeetendra in Farz, Rishi Kapoor in Karz, Mithun Chakraborty in Disco Dancer.
The post-screening discussion yielded this anecdote. Salim-Javed, who wrote Yaadon Ki Baaraat for Nasir Husain, told him that they’d written a very similar film called Zanjeer, which also began with murdered parents. Husain heard their script and said what he was making was completely different. In his film, he said, music plays an important part. Indeed. The leading man of Zanjeer is haunted by nightmares about the white stallion hanging from the villain’s bracelet. The leading men of Yaadon Ki Baaraat are haunted by a family song. That’s why, despite a character arc very similar to that of Amitabh Bachchan in Zanjeer, we don’t refer to Dharmendra in Yaadon Ki Baaraat as an “angry young man”. It’s very hard to remain angry in Nasir Husain’s cinema. It is, however, very easy to feel young. Teesri Manzil is the happiest film ever made about a girl falling off a building and found in a pool of blood.
* * *
It’s the songs. It’s O mere sona. It’s Deewana mujhsa nahin, with its opening note slightly higher than you’d expect, given the rest of the song. It’s Tumne mujhe dekha, which marked the return of Shammi Kapoor to the studios after a self-imposed exile, following wife Geeta Bali’s death. It’s Dekhiye sahibo. “What?” you ask? I don’t blame you. The biggest mystery in Teesri Manzil isn’t who killed the girl but why this song isn’t as well-remembered, as well-regarded as the others. Rafi opens the number in jazz-rock mode. Asha Bhosle operates in a higher octave, with semi-classical lines of melody more suited to a Lata bhajan. It’s a signature RD Burman recipe, a fluffy musical omelette made by breaking a dozen rules.
The situation is even more inventive. We have a grand tradition of invention in song, but the situations themselves rarely change. The happy song. The sad song. The hero-introduction song. Dekhiye sahibo is the nothing song. There’s practically no reason for its being. Asha Parekh tells her father she loves Shammi Kapoor. He asks her to bring him home. Had the song happened at that point, it would have been business as usual, just another happy song. Instead, we shift to Shammi waiting for Asha. He thinks he sees her and teases her. She turns around. It’s not her. The woman screams for help. An angry crowd gathers. By now, Asha has joined them. The song wavers between Shammi trying to placate the mob and Asha teasing Shammi by pretending she does not know him. It’s a musical situation not just because it’s a situation with music but because the situation is right out of the art form we know as the musical, where a scene has been manufactured just so that the spoken can cavort with the sung. Teesri Manzil – which translates to third floor – is the most special of Nasir Husain’s films because it marries his musical sensibilities with those of Vijay Anand and Shammi Kapoor. The film, thus, is two levels higher.
An edited version of this piece can be found here. Copyright ©2016 The Hindu. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Sifter
November 5, 2016
Love this piece and ‘dekhiye sahibon.’
The starting music of the trailer for ‘the lure’ seems similar to ‘jaane jaan.’
LikeLike
Shalini
November 5, 2016
Haven’t read the article yet. Just saw the thumbnail pic of Shammi & Asha P from Teesri Manzil on the home page and that was enough. You’re alright, BR. You’re alright. 🙂
LikeLike
Anu Warrier
November 5, 2016
@Shalini – 🙂
BR, you saw Teesri Manzil for the first time?! Good god, where have you been living, man? 🙂
So, so happy to know it’s been restored. Now perhaps someone will give us a DVD with the entire film. Tell me, the scene beforeDekhiye sahibon, where Shammi takes the girls to Premnath’s house, saying it’s his uncle’s, and then running into Premnath himself? That is there? (A full half hour is cut from the DVDs of Teesri Manzil out in the market currently.
Shameless plug, if I may: I reviewed Music Masti Modernity here. [Please feel free to delete if it’s not kosher.]
LikeLike
P
November 5, 2016
I was there at this screening BR!!! OMG! WE could have met! 😦
LikeLike
brangan
November 5, 2016
Anu: First time on the big screen.
LikeLike
Anu Warrier
November 5, 2016
@BR, ah, that makes sense. I haven’t had the opportunity to watch it on big screen either. Lucky you! Please tell me it was the full film as it was originally shot and not the truncated travesty that is out on DVD?
LikeLike
brangan
November 5, 2016
Anu: I still think some footage was missing, but it did have the lead-up to Dekhiye sahibo which I had never seen before (and which I have written about here).
LikeLike
Anu Warrier
November 5, 2016
Oh. There’s a whole scene before what you wrote. It was there in the DD screening of the film, and in the original VHS of the film as well:
This is the scene where Premnath is introduced as the Kunwar. Anil and Sunita have made plans to spend the day together, and have made up excuses to get rid of her friends. Unfortunately, they are caught. Since they are all hungry and thirsty, Sunita points out that they could all go to Anil’s uncle’s mansion; Anil tries to dissuade them, but they do not listen. So he goes ahead, sees the Kunwar go away, and cons the servant into letting them all in. But the Kunwar returns, having forgotten something, only to hear the noise. He goes in to see his house taken over by a bevy of girls. Anil is embarrassed, but the Kunwar is laughing. He was young once too, he says, and he accepts the title of brevet uncle that is handed to him. Anil thanks him, and they leave.
Back at the hotel, Sunita’s father has arrived with Ramesh. Sunita bluntly refuses to have anything to do with him. Her father is quick to see that she has given her heart elsewhere and asks her to invite Anil over. Anil has gone to meet Sunita at their usual meeting place; there, he runs into another woman whom he mistakenly teases; some villagers come to her rescue, and chase Anil away. When he meets Sunita, he is still recovering from the experience – he yells at her; she promptly yells back. And she runs away – Anil chases her – the villagers now chase him again, thinking he has found another victim – and they all land up at the fair where…. well, you know.
LikeLike
brangan
November 5, 2016
Anu Warrier: The introduction scene of Kunwar was there earlier. I was just talking about the lead-up to this song, which is usually absent from prints. We usually get the red herring scene that hints that Helen may be the killer, and then we cut to Dekhiye sahibo. See from around the 1:16:00 mark in the version below.
LikeLike
Anu Warrier
November 6, 2016
BR, the introduction to Kunwar is after the red herring scene and Dekhiye saahibon. Shammi and Asha want to shake her friends away but they stick to the couple. Then comes the intro scene to Kunwar. After their return to the hotel, the scene with Asha refusing to marry Prem Chopra takes place. She goes off to meet Shammi to tell him about it. Then the lead up to Dekhiye saahibon. But that entire episode of the girls and Shammi in Kunwar’s house, up to and including the scene where he mistakes a village woman for Asha Parekh – that’s not there in any DVD/ YouTube print available in the market today. (I live in hope that some kind soul will remaster his old VHS tape and upload a complete version.) I was wondering if it was there in the restored version of the film that you saw.
LikeLike
Myselfaamir
November 6, 2016
brangan as you mentioned that you were there at the panel discussion, may i ask you why Aamir was part of the panel as neither was he part of the movie ( as he was as a kid in Yaadon Ki Baarat) nor was he old enough to narrate the anecdotes during the shoot of the movie!! Yet he was a part of the panel which discussed Teesri Manzil is not only ironical but bizarre as well as Asha Parekh is alive and could well have been invited to share her experience of working with RD Burman, Nasir husain and Shammi Kapoor as she was the leading lady of the iconic film being discussed! Star-fanaticism has almost ruined the hindi film industry if not for the likes of Kashyaps, Motwanes and Bhardwajs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ravi K
November 6, 2016
Was “Agraharathil Kazhuthai” restored? I think I have a low-res copy somewhere, but I’d like to see and hear it with better clarity.
LikeLike
KayKay
November 6, 2016
All I need to know is there’s a new Paul Verhoeven film out.
Sigh….All is right in the world again!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Madan
November 6, 2016
Other than Shakti Samanta, probably nobody else has a more astounding record when it comes to the quality of the soundtracks that graced his films. RK would also be a strong contender but other than Sangam and Mera Naam Joker I don’t really like the music of the films in which RK himself acted all that much.
Interesting thing here is after Teesri Manzil, Nasir Hussain did not work with Shammi again and also exclusively with RD (having worked with SJ before for Jab Pyar Kisise Hota Hai and with OP for lots of films). He also brought Rajesh Khanna on board for the flop Baharon ke Sapne (which had an amazing OST again). But Shakti Samanta teamed up with SJ and Shammi for Evening in Paris, one of their very last hurrahs before Aradhana painted tinseltown in the colours of Rajesh Khanna and Panchamda.
LikeLike
brangan
November 6, 2016
Anu Warrier: And I’m saying that episode of the girls was there. And that episode where Shammi mistakes another girl for Asha is what I have written about in this piece.
LikeLike
P
November 6, 2016
@myselfaamir: The movie was there to lead up to the book on Nasir Hussain’s life and the panel discussion was not about the movie but about all of Nasir Hussain’s work which included two movies of Aamir which he worked on as well as YKB which he had a guest appearance on. Aamir and Mansoor also assisted Nasir in the 80s. Since they are also family members and were the chief sources (along with his daughter) for the writer while he was researching the book- it was apt that they all were there.
Why stoke a controversy where there is none?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Shalini
November 6, 2016
If the movie had the priceless “You go to your Daddy”, “You go to your Mummy” exchange between Shammi and Asha, then, hallelujah, you saw the complete version and I join Anu in hoping it makes its way to a DVD.
LikeLiked by 1 person
MANK
November 6, 2016
Brangan, these so called Restored versions of indian films are always a scam. they are no were near the real restoration thats done in the west on films like Lawrence of Arabia or Spartacus. here they just clean up the film a little and strike a new print and put it across as a restored version. i hope this was an improvement on that . Was this a digital print or a 35 mm ?
There are lot of pictures that are now available in only their truncated versions .Pakeezah, Razia Sultan, Sangharsh etc etc which were all originally 20 and 21 reelers are now only available in their 21\2 hour format. even the most popular ones like RK’S Sangam and Mera Naam joker- whose original cut of 250 mins with 2 intervals seems to have lost forever.Is there anybody here who has seen that version?
Punee,Also, i believe Aamir is much more closer to Nasser Hussein than his father, from whom he has been estranged for a long time. he was the one who launched him and. so it was natural (and imperative) that he would be there. Again i dont think Asha Parekh would have been there as she is supposedly not on good terms with Nasser Hussein family due to discretionary reasons 🙂
LikeLike
Aditya (Gradwolf)
November 6, 2016
P: Why stoke a controversy where there is none?
Yes there isn’t a controversy here but it is also true that Kiran Rao is the chairperson of MAMI/Mumbai Film Festival. And Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander had a special screening with a reunion, a separate panel of its own etc. If you are a wee bit cynical, especially in a conflicts of interest galore country like India (Cricket cough), can’t help but wonder on these lines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Anu Warrier
November 6, 2016
@BR: Sorry. My lizard brain took some time to grasp that. 🙂
Aditya: It took Kiran Rao (and Anuradha Chopra) to step in and take charge of MAMI when it was in danger of being cancelled for lack of funds. I think watching JJWS with a separate panel or NH’s book being released in conjunction with Teesri Manzil is a price I’m willing to pay to see the festival continue?
LikeLike
Sanjeev
November 6, 2016
Rangan where can I see panel discussion.
LikeLike
Aditya (Gradwolf)
November 6, 2016
Anu: Anupama 🙂
Yes of course I didn’t say I was not willing to pay. Many things these days require Bollywood and its clout to bring in the moolah these days, not to mention things that have no relation to cinema. So here it’s really fine. As long as the films they bring in for the festival are top rate (like it has been including this year), no complaints. The audience too greatly differs. The hard core festival ones limit themselves to the screens while the Bollywood fans and those that want the star value attend the panels etc (what they call the Movie Mela).
LikeLike
brangan
November 7, 2016
Myselfaamir / Aditya: There is no surprise in this, and let’s not get into the dichotomy of “serious movie-watchers who stroke their chins in front of Great Art” and the “unwashed masses who go to these starry events.” An ideal movie lover has both sides to him (otherwise, you should NEVER EVER trust such a person), and these events are very necessary to raise the profile of the festival.
International festivals do this profile-raising by having stars and red carpet events for the screenings of prestige films. And this is a circus of its own. The movie mela is our kind of circus. That’s all. No press (national or international) is going to devote much coverage to a film festival, an event that — by its nature — is an esoteric pursuit. But add stars and at least the buzz keeps going for the duration of the event. It’s very simple.
As to the presence of Aamir, it was dictated by the decision to screen Teesri Manzil. Aamir had not only worked closely with Nasir Husain (as AD), he also contributed to the book that was being released. Hence his participation.
And they did bring out Asha Parekh before the event. She was interviewed by Vikramaditya Motwane. She shared many memories about the film. The panel with Aamir etc. happened later.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Myselfaamir
November 7, 2016
P : My question was non-inflammatory 😉 My whole concern was Aamir being the show-stealer than Nasir Husain Sahab or Teesri Manzil!! It was, for god sake, discussion on Teesri Manzil & Nasir Husain legacy, so why confine it to an all family affair by having son, daughter and nephew of Nasir Sahab in a panel comprising 4 members!! They could have had some close aides of Nasir Sahab to share their own experiences and anecdotes during their collaboration/s with Nasir Husain or some unique incident/s they were privy to. That way not only the panel could have been more diverse and inclusive but more open too. I hope i’m exonerated of the charge P put on me after making my point clear 🙂
LikeLike
Myselfaamir
November 7, 2016
Thanks brangan for your detailed reply. With your disclosure about Asha Parekh being interviewed before the panel discussion, my anguish is vanished into thin air!!
LikeLike
Aditya (Gradwolf)
November 7, 2016
BR: Yes that makes perfect sense. There is always a business part of it (and here we only too well because MAMI was very close to never happening again in 2014) and it happens everywhere from Cannes to IFFI. But there is also a practicality of why the audience differs, especially in a country like India. I’d love to go to one of these panels but how often do you even get to watch the in competition or the world cinema (am using MAMI’s category titles here lest someone points out “unwashed masses” watch world cinema too 😀 ) in a country like India? I am sure if you live in Europe or elsewhere one may get multiple shots at The Lure. But suddenly I look at the schedule and I have to choose between The Lure and a rewatch of Teesri Manzil or panel discussion (and God knows in our country we have so many such panels. The next literature fest will have a same panel thanks to the book release.) happening in another part of the city, what do I do? So I think that sort of divides the audience, consciously or otherwise.
LikeLike
Aditya (Gradwolf)
November 7, 2016
But coming back to original topic, as someone in the selection committee, did you get the feeling that the festival had an unofficial theme of rape/assault written all over it? It could hardly have become conversation but I was wondering if you saw that pattern at some point – 3-4 days down and a couple of us (Tanul, Rahul etc) were discussing it between films. It either becomes the central narrative or it is the event that drives the film towards a different one.
Elle
The Neon Demon
The Salesman (granted it is just an event that guides the narrative towards a bigger moral dilemma)
Una
The Unknown Girl
Graduation
I am forgetting a few more. Glad you wrote that small bit about Elle (though not glad about its length or lack thereof!) , I believe the film has a mainstream release this week. I was both stunned and fascinated by what all Verhoeven accomplished here and the kind of conversation it is going to draw from all quarters. Suspect it will be an important and much talked about film (positive and negative) for a long time to come.
LikeLike
Rahul
November 8, 2016
Not sure what to say about Elle , somehow it feels like whatever I say will be forced. Its a terribly tough film to process. I am not sure a repeat viewing will help.
LikeLike
P
November 8, 2016
@myselfaamir: Considering that most film-making is a family businesses, it makes sense that family members will sit in on a discussion of Nasir Hussain’s films and his legacy (all of them, not just Teesri Manzil).
Ashaji as BR said was interviewed before the movie by no less than Vikramaditya Motwane.
@Aditya/Anu: How can you have a film festival with a vast array of films that are watched and consumed by people completely missing from the proceedings in any shape or form?! That too when the tickets are selling for bloody 2000 bucks! People balk at watching movies in theatres anymore. There are people who think a 200 rupees ticket is a waste of money, why would they pay so much for something like this? Nothing comes for free after all.
How would they continue to organize the festival year after year if there is no money being made the previous year? I am sure Aamir has even monetarily supported the festival when Kiran first took over and it was in shambles.
How is it a price to pay? Why can’t it be that everybody wins? 😦
I personally loved the dinner table-like conversation that happened. It was so personal and really made me feel like I was witnessing how Nasir Hussain would have spoken to them about his movies and his opinions, his fights (one very famously with Dev Anand- this was described amazingly by Aamir!) his thoughts, etc.
Shalini: That priceless exchange was indeed present. It was so much fun. I had never seen the movie before, so it was really superb!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Anu Warrier
November 8, 2016
P – you misread me. I am also saying ‘Nothing comes free.’
I was saying that we need these films to make ‘those’ films (and film festivals) viable. Even if I were at a film festival only to see the films I wouldn’t normally catch outside – which I’m not; I love my masala films just as much as the arthouse ones, and I will absolutely watch a panel discussion that interests me – having a mainstream film(s) and a panel discussion about it and book launch is a price I will gladly pay.
Aditya – Anupama. Sorry. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Anand Narayanan
November 9, 2016
BR: I know this is the wrong place and time, but aren’t you going to make a tribute to Wajda?
LikeLike
Aditya (Gradwolf)
November 10, 2016
LikeLike
TheWannabeWriter
November 11, 2016
Eagerly awaiting ur thoughts on 25 years of Thalapathi, Rangan sir
LikeLike
vishal yogin
November 16, 2016
@BR For reasons I cant exactly pinpoint, I rushed to see The Wailing on a hunch, and I sat through all the three hours like a wide eyed child. It was the highlight of the film fest for me :)) I was thoroughly entertained. Now I wonder how The Lure would have compared to this. I did not go for that one. You really ought to have put up a list of must watches after you did your viewing in the selection committee hehe.
LikeLike
vishal yogin
November 16, 2016
@P “People balk at watching movies in theatres ”
NOT me, in fact I really LOVe the big screen. For me, its the reverse dilemma – that hardly anything good eventually makes it to the theaters. Too bad that there isnt any affordable technology to replicate the big screen for the individual. No, home theater still cant match the size…
LikeLike