FilmiBoi

Sholay , through the years, has become a cult classic as it had a historic run in cinemas across India. Running for 5 long years in a Mumbai theatre was some record back in the 70s. Typically, it had all the ingredients of a masala flick - a grand ensemble cast, rugged, dry terrains, catchy (understatement), memorable dialogues and some great music. But  the thing  for which Sholay is remembered is  Gabbar Singh, the dacoit of the fictional town of Ramgarh. And Gabbar isn’t the sole merit of the legendary Amjad Khan. Of course, he played his role flawlessly but then mere acting isn’t the treat for the audiences especially for Bollywood talkies fanatics (like me). We all look for dialogues, power-packed ones. And at that time, the dialogues et al were written by the most talked-about writers of the early 70s, “Salim-Javed”. This duo gave us some unforgettable characters and yes, Gabbar tops the list. The sadistic humour which is exhibited in Gabbar’s views creates a stir in the viewers

Bollywood soundtracks are special. Like any other genre of music, filmi music can be heard in isolation, but watching the film beforehand can make a perceptible difference. This act increments the position of a Bollywood song from being a film-promoter to being an aural bioscope. It either speaks for the film by providing cadence to the camera and gravitas to the plot or provides an escapist outlet to intense cinema. Simply put, it serves two purposes: it either acts as a catalyst to move the story forward, or serves as a momentary detour from a grim or overwhelming film. Here, I analyse Bollywood music through this binary.  Bollywood music as a continuum catalyst: moving the plot forward As continuum catalysts, songs add a bardic and theatrical touch to the film. Lyrical ballads and nervy orchestrations substitute and complement dialogues and emotions on-screen. From classics like Mother India and Pyaasa to the relatively recent Shakespearan trilogy helmed by Vishal Bharadwaj, there

Cricket went for a wicket this weekend. You still got the 'blues'? Fear not. Here's a Bollywood movie binge-list to get going, while the going gets tough. We won't tell you much about the story. Here go the famous five: Lagaan (2001) A tax and attacks force Bhuvan's 11 to take on ruthless Russel under the loving guidance of a gori memsahib. Iqbal (2005) A deaf and mute boy, a drunkard coach and Ranji; any avid cinegoer would spot the clichés in the plot. But watch it for the performances, and "Aashayen" (try to get that song out of your head). Chain Kulii ki Main Kulii (2007) Watch how Karan, an orphan, goes on for a heroic stint in the Indian cricket team with the help of Varun bhaiyya and the "magic bat". It's just Iqbal, except that everyone speaks. Ferrari ki Sawaari (2012) Raju Rastogi from 3 Idiots is a father now. He is poor, naive and honest: the concoction of invalids in today's fast-paced

Tired of reading the monotonic English reviews and analyses of Hindi films? Why not read them straight in Hindi? Find the prospect fun? Read the FilmiBoi blog in Hindi too!  howdafilminhin.blogspot.com  Hope you enjoy reading my analyses in Hindi too! Take care! FilmiBoi.

"Papa kehte hain bada naam karega!" -Debutant Aamir Khan singing in  Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak " Mere hisaab se, agar is desh ke baap nahi sudhrenge, ye desh nahi sudhrega!" - Aamir Khan, six years later, in  Andaz Apna Apna. In transit from the masala genre to the romance genre, Bollywood saw crestfallen  dadas  and grandiose dads (in negative roles); and why not, charity and villainy, both begin at home. The masculine, patriarchal and authoritarian father figure of the '90s has come under the radar of contemporary feminist studies. But this article has nothing to do with academic critiques   of a Tribhuvan Das from Chaalbaaz or a Saxena from Kaho Naa...Pyar Hai. We all know that they were inherently bad dads. Their trademark antagonisms aside, this article is a showcase of two of the most memorable fathers Bollywood has ever seen: Bauji   (Amrish Puri) from DDLJ and Thakur sahab  (Sanjeev Kumar) from Sholay. Two doppelgangers, two decades apart. Image source: San

India is the land of snake charmers and shamans, it is the land where poverty dwells and sells. These Western preconceptions about the relatively nascent south-east Asian nation have surpassed the stature of a cliche. In other news, Bollywood, the Hindi film industry and India’s most effective soft power, was once labelled as the 'trashiest film industry' by the Westerners. (Stadtler) This paper is not a scathing remark on the Westerners per se, it is a general critique of one of their most celebrated institutions, the Academy Awards. Specifically, this paper deals with the portrayal of India in the films that get nominated at the Oscars.   Let us begin from the fifties. Indian films like Mehboob Khan’s Mother India and Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali and the ensuing Apu trilogy piqued the interest of the West. The former got an Oscar nomination, and etched its name in the annals of film history to be the first Indian film to be nominated in the Best Foreign Film category at

Image source: Amazon Prime Video The year is 1970. Hrishikesh Mukherjee is planning to make a movie on a terminally ill cancer patient. He chooses Kishore Kumar as the lead actor and Mehmood in the supporting role. He goes to Kumar's house to give him an invite to join the film together with a handwritten script. But Kumar's gate-keeper refuses to let him in. He has been told to "drive away a Bengali if he ever comes!"–Mukherjee becomes the misunderstood bait. Dejected, he reaches out Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan to star in his magnum opus,  Anand. Mehmood has apparently dropped out after Kishore Kumar's exit. The film hits the theatres in 1971 to applause, acclaim, Filmfares and sobs. Kaka has put up a brilliant and resilient show of Anand babu, who is terminally ill and on one last dopamine and altruistic rush. Bachchan gets a rep-upgrade after Saat Hindustani , now he is remembered as the no-nonsense, hardworking, but equally vulnerable Dr Bhasker. Gulzar

Movie poster (Image source: Amazon.com ) Bombay has become Mumbai but the underworld scene still garners the fright of the teeming million denizens. Far from the elite drawing-room ideological clashes, lies a sad and I daresay, a dirty product of poverty. Radicalised poverty, helpless poverty, poverty this, poverty that.  Film and documentary makers have capitalised on this poverty since ages. Satya puts forth a mirror. A mirror which does not thrive on bankable videography of the slums, but engages the audience with the souls which inhabit the hovels. We know Satya is about Satya. Indeed in its "truest" sense. As the camera pans from a busy Bombay street to a lanky ragamuffin, it speaks to the audience in poetic cinematography. That man in tatters, that orphan vagabond, that life is our protagonist. Miscible in a mould, yet faltering at the edges due to its prismatic nature. He is truth, he is Satya, he is J. D. Chakravarthy.  Chakravarthy reminds me of Kamal Hassan: sta

Cultures have always transcended continents: sometimes willingly, sometimes unwillingly. Two indispensable elements of any culture are language and art. And as one draws a global linguistic map, the average first-timer would be shocked to know that many in the Caribbeans speak Bhojpuri. Why? Thank the English. In very simple words, Bhojpuri reached the Caribbeans through indentured labour (sent by the British) from India). I don't prefer calling these people Indians, I think Indic is a better word; for their notion of India might be very different from its present social, cultural and geopolitical structure.  Coming to the second aspect: art. And with art, I am referring to music. Chutney music.  As interesting as its name sounds, Chutney music is even more riveting to the Indian ear. A mish-mash of instruments like the Bulbul Tarang, Dhantal, Dholak, Harmonium, Khartal, Manjira, Mandolin, Tabla and Tassa beats (yes, I copied that from Wiki), Chutney music sure is a delightful nosh

So many people are bashing the big stars for the kind of booth-capturing they have done in the industry, the most recent case being Sushant Singh Rajput's death triggering probes of involvement of big-banner folks. Sushant was an ordinary, a nobody, so to speak, in the film industry. He aimed for the moon (all puns intended) and got a few stars in his bucket. But just think about a young prince born to a Bollywood music legend. Life would be easy, a casual observer might think. But no. Pancham's life is an ironic transition from ruling turntables, churning out hit after hit, and then watching the tables turn, as a helpless, hapless soul. A man who was, at one time, offered film after film, sans daddy SD's aegis, was left to rot like a crumbling, fumbling, insecure composer–like a mutilated Mozart. And people say that the biggies gate-keep just the actors. What made me tear up watching this documentary was the fall of this heroic composer, sans hubris; his only hamartia bein

While Rakesh Roshan has got the  Kraft  for making good  Films  (pun intended) like Kaho Naa…Pyar Hai, my vote goes for the 2003 blockbuster film  Koi…Mil Gaya. While there is a huge hue and cry over the unoriginal concept of the Hrithik Roshan starrer, the main credit goes to Satyajit Ray, who wrote  The Alien  back in the 60s-70s without which ET won't be possible. Reasons why Koi…Mil Gaya is the best film of Rakesh Roshan (according to me):- It is a  brave attempt at children's and sci-fi films.  I say this because back in 2003, kids had no greater superhero than Shaktiman and most of the children's movies that time were not up to the mark. The songs were fantastic.  Be it the tipsy Rohit dancing and jumping to the tunes of  Idhar chala main udhar chala…  or the kids singing  Jaadoo jaadoo…  in a childish but nostalgic chorus, the album was great. Not to forget  It's magic  where Hrithik Roshan does what he is best at. Not to forget, the melodious title track. The ic

"Tujhe dekha to ye jana sanam, pyar hota hai deewana sanam." Sarson ke khet, King Khan playing the mandolin on a windy summer morn to his dame Kajol, conjuring a passionate sequence amid parental opposition; Anand Bakshi's evergreen verses; Kumar Sanu's nasal baritone and Lataji's melodic singing. Did I miss something? Sure I did. Pause for a second and ask yourselves. Did you just mechanically read the above lyric or did you read them in a sing-song manner? If your choice was the latter, read on! If it was the former - read again. You will not be able to resist the power of melody. And who's behind this melody? The dynamic and versatile duo of Jatin-Lalit, who gave us super-hit songs like  "Pehla Nasha", "Ae Kash Ke Hum", "Tujhe Dekha To", "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai",   and many more. Not to forget  "Bin Tere Sanam",  one of their earlier songs which was masterfully recreated and remixed by DJ Suketu. Noneth