Shame - At the mercy of one's eros

Director: Steve McQueen
Language: English
Release Year: 2011
Rating: FULL DAMN MARKS


There's a scene, just before the climax, where the essence of the movie is wrapped in a nutshell and is depicted in few of the most powerful expressions it could ever have been. Those rare glimpses through the vulnerable and guilt-ridden cracks in the protagonist's character is where the movie stops being just a media on celluloid, and becomes something more visceral, more tangible and more heartbreaking.

Coming off from the critically acclaimed "Hunger", the duo of Steve McQueen and Michael Fassbender present to us the most nuanced portrayal of a man afflicted by an unspeakable addiction. Brandon (Michale Fassbender) is a victim, a slave and also the puppeteer of his unflinching dependence on sex. He walks in and out of his daily existence with only one intent and purpose: to satisfy his carnal instincts as many times as possible, be it with a stranger, an office colleague, an acquaintance, a working girl, or simply by self-gratification. At office, his computer's hard drive is replete with images and clips encompassing every conceivable category of pornographic content. Back home, he's a regular at an online live-cam service. Also, the nooks and corners of his house and inconspicuous boxes in his closet act as hideaways for his bulky stash of magazines and other porno content. Brandon is not a pervert, not a sexual deviant and not a playboy either. He's simply making his ends meet, which happens to be of the most unconventional kind. His range of sources to indulge in his "debauchery" may paint him pervert. His inclination towards approaching any and every woman with the sole intention of sleeping with her may brand him as "sexual deviant". And the effortlessness with which he is able to pick up ladies and convince them, almost planting the notion in their head that they want to sleep with him, may compel some to call him a "playboy". But the overlooked truth here is that he is no different than the rest of us. Simply because he's biologically programmed to be what he is may make him a pariah in our "normal" society. But honestly, if this addiction were to be one of the conventional ailments, he wouldn't be looked down upon with utmost loathing. Simply put, he's just playing the game with the cards he has been dealt. This way of life is not a dilemma for him, not anymore. It's like being given an option of either suffocating to death or breathing through the thick, reeking waft of air that keeps you alive long enough. Brandon chooses the latter. Since he's almost incapable of seeing beyond a woman's body, he has never been in a relationship longer than few months. He's neither interested in committing to anything more nor is he longing for that human touch that would stem his devolution. His only objective is to live one day after another, making sure his desires are met, while everything else remains a perfunctory exercise. It's apparent right from the beginning that Brandon is in disgust of himself, but he just cannot tame his inner demons. His helplessness and the limits he is willing to cross is depicted very starkly in a scene at the end. Living a double life, Brandon has managed to maintain the delicate balance between being sociable and himself. But that balance is soon thrown in a complete disarray when his sister shows up unannounced at his doorstep.

Sissy (Carrey Muligan), a struggling singer, and a drifter, crashes at Brandon's place for a few days. Based on her desperation and a helpless demeanor, she seemed to have received the short end of the stick in love, and needs a temporary savior, in the form of her brother Brandon. It's obvious that both Brandon and Sissy don't share the same level of affection for one another, all they share are the same parents. It's not a typical love-hate relationship between siblings. Brandon, even though it disrupts his routine temporarily, is willing to help his sister out until she can stand back on her feet, again. Sissy loves his brother, but seem to remember him only when she's run through a grinder. But it's because of Brandon's nature of keeping people at an arm's length why Sissy doesn't keep in touch with her brother as often as she should. Brandon, obviously, chooses to remain distant from any and every relationship for the fear of his dark secret being revealed. But these two characters, with the potential of nullifying each others' weaknesses, finally come to a head. Brandon now has to walk the tightrope of protecting his sister from his true self while trying to quell his physical needs. Situations do get complicated and feelings are hurt, an onset resulting from Brandon's aberration coming to light. These circumstances put Brandon at a crossroad, forcing him to reassess the choices he has been making so far, and if he would like to continue to go down the same path, bringing pain to himself and his sister, probably the only person he truly cares for. Or if he can find in himself the strength to overcome his flaws and hang onto one string of hope, his sister, and the possibility of a more bearable tomorrow, albeit without being bogged down by his addiction. The movie seems to end on an uncertain note, leaving viewers to decide the ultimate fate of Brandon. If one can read the quandary in Brandon's eye in the last scene, one may be able to figure out what road he will finally take.

Steve McQueen brings a rare class to this unusual and a fascinating character study. His usual trope of focusing on the character, their conversation while myriad emotions brim to the surface, and making sure that all of these are captured in just one shot, is on display here throughout the movie. In his earlier movie "Hunger", one such scene stood out from the rest, where Fassbender's character recounts a murder scene, among other things, in a single 17-odd minute shot. In "Shame", there are countless such scenes, although not as long. The aim of having such long shots is to ensure the continuity of the scene, and the undercurrent of emotions within the characters and the scenario. The constant cuts, inclusive of dramatic close-ups, panning, and other camera movements bring an ounce of manipulative and artificial tone to the whole setup. Such a method is definitely not suited for a movie of this topic and caliber. The effect is palpable in the scene where Brandon is trying to reach someone as he has a bad feeling that because of his insensitivity, that person may now be hurt. He takes the lift to that person's apartment. Any other movie and any other director would've preferred to show Brandon's character enter the lift and then, straightaway, cut to the part where he steps out of the lift on the intended floor, while the importance of the scene is punctuated by some dramatic/tragic background score. But Steve McQueen belongs to a different breed of directors. He chooses to focus the camera on Brandon throughout the 10-15 seconds of the lift ride, emphasizing his desperation and the terrible horror he is anticipating once he reaches that person's place. The long tracking shot enables the viewer to go through the same set of feelings that Brandon is, involving us equally in the consequence of that eventuality. It's because of this brilliance in storytelling and other aspects that Steve McQueen has been able to achieve almost every possible reaction he was set out to while making this movie.

But the real star of the movie is Michael Fassbender. Firstly, it takes insurmountable guts to be able to play such a complex character, let alone playing it with such uncanny perfection. Fassbender captures all the fine details of Brandon's character with his every bat-of-the-eyelid, welling of his eyes, grin on his face, seductive and yet painful voice, and every twitch in his body. He breathes such life in this character that it is virtually impossible to imagine someone else do it as impeccably as him. Fassbender is blessed with the hard-to-crack countenance, exhibiting his character's lone, tough exterior that masks and protects his real nature. His superior ability to flesh out even the most questionable characters (like Magneto from 'X-Men: First Class') with his own distinctive shade and credibility, makes him one of the best and powerful actors in the whole world, at least for me.

Carrey Muligan (I adore her very much), complements Brandon's imperviousness with her bright, hopeful and yet sullen performance. The contrast is evident in an argument scene between the two characters. Brandon, resigned to his impenetrable behaviour, is lambasting Sissy for her clingy nature and her inability to look after herself, while feeling the constant need for someone's help every time she hits an emotional dead end in life. Mulligan manages to meet Fassbender's rugged and inconsiderate reprimand with a softer and vulnerable stance, soon breaking down like a baby but also assuring him of changing for the better, only if he's patient enough to help support her this time, at least emotionally. It's a heart-rending scene, made possible because of both the actors' bravura performances and skillful writing.

For an encumbered mind, "Shame" may not be an easy movie to watch. It requires suspension of beliefs and norms that conform to the artifice of society. It requires one to submit oneself completely to the possibility that despite the portrayed extreme nature of a human being, that person can still remain human, capable of being loved and cared for, and not beyond the point of redemption. The movie asks patience from you to sit through a tragic journey, while remaining thoughtful to the fact that Brandon's addiction is the cause of his wounds and also his ultimate salve. If you can conjure up the courage and an undogmatic approach towards this movie, it will definitely stun you and leave an everlasting impression of a sad tale and the brilliance that went in etching it on screen for others to become a part of it.

The Artist - One for the dying expression of...silence

Director: Michael Hazanavicius
Language: Silence and English
Release Year: 2011
Rating: * * * *

I’ve always held the belief that when it comes to movies, sound, dialogues and music are mere auxiliaries. The real soul of any movie is the story, followed by the way it’s captured on celluloid and the actors who enact it on screen. That is not to say that Talkies are not worthy of recognition. But I wouldn’t fret if movies were just moving pictures, briefly interrupted by intertitles (the technical word for onscreen texted dialogues) just to break the silence once in a while. For support of my claim and testament to the same, just watch Charlie Chaplin’s perpetually beautiful City Lights. Personally, I can do without the intertitles, too.

Now moving forward with the movie in question, The Artist. The story takes place when Hollywood was basking in the glory of silent movies. People were in awe of the moving-picture technology, and Hollywood was manufacturing stories of grand proportion to keep the masses hooked to this technology. The demand for fantasy and the supply of manipulated stories of grandeur, thrills, love, tragedies and the ubiquitous happy endings, kept both the sides happy and coming for more. George Valentini (Jean Dujardin), the protagonist, is the decorated cog in this machinery. People love him, ladies are mesmerized by him and he’s aware of it. He never misses a beat to hog the limelight, in fact, the limelight follows him and he never disappoints it. In that era, he’s the life and soul of silent movies. As is the case even now, people paid to come and see him, the star, rather than movie he was a part of. The appreciation, the admiration, the fame, has left an indelible mark of pride on him. He can’t shake that off, which becomes the instrument of his decline later in the movie. He’s married to an ageing housewife, with whom he shares the same real estate, but not his feelings, not anymore. Evidently, their marriage is hanging by a thread. Neither of the party is willing to take the initiative to break the monotony of silence between them. Their marriage is disintegrating, and this is made clear by the fact that George prefers dining out with his loyal driver (James Cromwell), rather than his own wife. Maybe it’s the age, maybe it’s the misplaced sense of priorities, maybe it’s the stagnancy of their, now, loveless marriage, maybe it’s all of the above in varying proportions. The fact of the matter is, their marriage is inconsequential to the entire proceedings in the movie, and is handled merely as a passing reference. It does add few syllables to describing the character of George, though.

Soon enters Ms. Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo ), an aspiring actress. Enamored by the glitz, glamor and the dangling carrot called fame, she tries her luck, and soon hits paydirt. But before that, she runs into George during a photo-shoot, and sparks fly at both ends. It’s no secret that like everyone else, she, too, is infatuated with this larger-than-life personality of George. It doesn’t take too much frame-time for this infatuation to blossom into something much softer. Those feelings, however, are sidetracked for a brief moment, while she and her ambition take the tinsel town by storm, albeit gradually. She climbs the ladder of movie roles, from extras that blend in the crowd, to characters making brief appearances, to supporting actors, and finally, to the name that hoards much of the space on the poster. She now shares the same celebrity status that George has been wearing on his sleeve all this long. But a change in the smooth flow is inevitable, and it goes by the name “Talkies”.

The Hollywood recognizes the need of the hour, and prepares for the transition. Everyone boards the “Talkies” bandwagon, except George Valentin. He’s steadfast in his belief that Talkies is not the future, and scoffs at anyone preaching that, which happens to be everyone in this case. George is stuck in the era gone by. Pride washes him over, and he decides to take on the entire Hollywood industry and the technology of Talkies. He decides to make a silent movie, one that would steamroll the Talkies. He goes all in, invests every ounce and penny he has to make the movie of his life. However, I disagree that there’s only pride that gets George engulfed in obscurity and anonymity. I somehow believe that he has such faith in his art-form, such devotion towards the work he does, and trusts his fan following so much, that he has somehow deluded himself in playing the game with just one card. At the opposite end of the spectrum, is Ms. Peppy Miller. She’s more than happy to go with the flow, which brings her the desired recognition, fortune and glory. She understands and recognizes the fact that ultimately, it’s the audience that decides where the industry goes, and what is the next big thing. Her adaptation to these changing times is what keeps her from becoming irrelevant and forgotten, unlike George. While George’s name starts to fade and fade rapidly, Peppy becomes a household name, dancing on everyone’s lips and in everyone’s imagination. From this point on, it’s the industry and the world against George’s hubris and single-minded approach towards his life and profession. The climax is almost anybody’s guess, but it’s the journey wherein lies the pleasure.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but the moment I saw Jean, somehow Clark Gable’s name flooded my senses. It’s as if the latter had embodied this French actor. The comparison only goes to show how brilliant Jean was in his role. He exudes charm, panache, and immeasurable magnetism. Those little smirks, the free-flowing gait, the beguiling smile enhanced further by those pencil-trimmed moustache, they all reminded me of the actors of yesteryear, Clark Gable in particular, to reiterate. Jean’s portrayal of a personality, who’s consumed by his work and his self-importance, was a delight worthy of reveling in time and again. Penny Miller was adorable to say the least. Her depiction of Penny’s ingenuousness in the early parts of the movie was as guileless and innocent as they come. Her transformation into a star and the befitting nuances she adopts to portray that character without losing that inherent innocence is a pleasure to watch. Although her character doesn’t have too much bearing on the movie’s story, I always welcomed her presence. There’s once scene where she plays with George’s suit. Even though the scene lasts for about a minute, it’s beautifully rendered, and Penny’s expression underscores her longing for George’s character.

This film goes to show the diversity of the director’s (Michael Hazanvicius) repertoire. I mostly remember him for his spy-spoofs from the “OSS 117” franchise. There is a hint of humor in this movie as well, but it’s mostly synonymous to the upbeat nature of the story in the first part of the movie. The movie quickly devolves into somberness and tragedy, which the director handles with an astonishing grip. It takes a great amount of confidence and bravura to produce a silent movie in the era of mind-numbing 3D gimmick, where music scores overwhelm the volumes that silence speak, and where a string of dialogues are mostly treated as a mandatory chain that links two sequences of mindless action. In the end, the movie is a sheer treat in simple, no-nonsense film-making. The approach is fundamentally sound, the story is straight-forward enough that it doesn’t get lost in translation. The characters are likable, believable and which you’d like to root for, and the actors playing them leave you desiring for more. A simple and a heartwarming tale of the identity lost in ego, the learning curve one passes by while salvaging what’s left, and the eventual comeuppance. Inadvertently, the movie, to me at least, is also a statement of what really matters in a movie, but mostly gets overlooked by the masses and adorned by classes in these times of extensive technological aberration the art of storytelling is subjected to. But that is for another day. For now, this gem comes highly recommended.

Chung Hing Sam Lam - Yet Another Classic from Wong Kar Wai

AKA: Chungking Express.
Director: Kar Wai Wong.
Language: Mostly Cantonese
Release Year: 1994.
Rating: * * * *

My second outing with Wong Kar Wai’s movie was a meditating experience on love in a very basic, yet a newfound way. From whatever I could collect about his film-making style from his previous movie I’d seen, the breathtaking “In The Mood For Love”, most of those tricks were at play here, too. The moody ambience; blurring neon-lights swishing past in the jarring, shaky camerawork; a layer of subtle, morose and peculiar humor in the face of heartache; and many other elements colluded to make this venture an indelible movie-watching experience.

The movie is about two love-stories, both involving cops, told in a sequence. The first one is about a 24-year-old cop He Zhiwu (Takeshi Kaneshiro), who’s been reeling from a recent break-up from his girlfriend of 5 years. Despite sounding and putting up a tough exterior, he can’t seem to shake off the overly-optimistic notion of getting back with his girlfriend. He’s always on the lookout for an excuse to somehow be in touch with her, or know her whereabouts. He calls up her friends or her distant relatives, under the guise of shooting the breeze, but with the actual intent of getting information on her. He believes, since she broke it off on April Fool’s Day, that it’s just a practical joke, and lets it run its course for a month. In order to christen the day when his one month countdown would be up i.e. May 1st, he buys a can of pineapple every day having the same expiry date as the impending fateful day. On that critical day, either the bleak realization of the break up will dawn on him, or the supposed prank would come to an end. Until then, he languishes around the town, chasing and nabbing bad guys, and ending his shift with the clockwork routine of checking his pager for a message from his former girlfriend.

On one such night, he runs into Ching-hsia Lin (Brigitte Lin), a drug peddler. A tough-as-nails character, she works her illegal Indian immigrants, uses them as mules to traffic drugs overseas. One such assignment goes awry, and she’s left to save her skin from the incensed parties involved in the deal. A no-nonsense woman, she’d even resort to abducting a kid to get her message across. Lugging along her dour self with a hint of disdain for everything around her, she seems to have no time for vagaries and trivialities of life. With his heart worn on his sleeves, He Zhiwu doesn’t waste his breath when he sees an opportunity present itself in the form of Lin. Two disparate souls are seen trying to find a common ground; one out of sheer desperation and dearth of love in his life, and the other out of her life’s monotony which seems to have no sense of direction.

The untied end of the first love story trickles a little into the second one. Here, we’re first introduced to an effervescent character Faye (Faye Wong), who lives by her own set of haphazard rules. She’s a wandering soul for whom stillness is just a matter of stagnating. Working at a fast-food joint, this jovial lass hopes to travel to California some day, until that is, she comes face-to-face with our second lovelorn protagonist, known only as Cop 663 (Tony Leung). A beat cop, Cop 663’s in a stable relationship, but only for so long. His airhostess girlfriend soon breaks up with him, leaving him bereft and meandering aimlessly, getting through the humdrums of his daily life, and ending the day with a visit to the aforesaid fast-food joint.

Just like the first protagonist, even this fellow is put through an emotional grinder after the breakup. Spending his days, with an unfounded notion that his girlfriend may return to him, and things will be the same again. Until then, she is survived by his daily conversation with the inanimate objects in his apartment, and going through the leftover of their memories. Faye, on the other hand, is smitten by this sozzled-in-love character. She even hatches an ingenious plan to get to know him and be close to him. While he’s out on duty, she’d break into his apartment, rifle through his belongings and even go so far as doing his chores. This sets the stage up for the inevitable love and how it’s made to test the waters of human caprice.

First of all, the second love story was more compelling to me than the first. Sure, first was unique in its own way, picking up an uneven slice from someone’s faltered love life, and showing us, for a change, what some guys have to go through. The same formula holds true for second one, too, but this one was articulately sketched out with adorable and eccentrically believable characters. An absolutely simple and charming plot, told in an erosive yet a polished manner.

There are a couple of scenes that reminded me how sheer simplicity could work at so many levels for a movie. One such scene is where He Zhiwu is seen calling some of his past girlfriends (some whom he hasn’t even spoken to since his school days) just to help him out in his moments of loneliness. The ensuing conversation had a sheen of hilarity and somewhat poignancy. There are a couple of scenes where Cop 663 talks to his household articles, as if they were his confidante and a soundboard. The euphemism brought out through his attributing human aspects to those inanimate objects was a very refreshing take on the heartache one goes through in such times. His interpretation of a dripping, wet cloth as shedding tears, a used-soap of having lost weight ever since his girlfriend left, and leak at his apartment as weeping, among many other things, were some of the amazing moments that stood out in the movie.

All the characters doled out a competent performance. Takeshi Kaneshiro as the immature-in-love, heartbroken He Zhiwu, did a fabulous job in shading out the innocent desperation of his character. Ching-hsia Lin was as sturdy as they come, wearing almost a single expression throughout her screen time, but managing to convey all that was going under that façade. Faye Wong was excitement personified, and an absolute treat to watch. Her charm filled the screen every time she appeared. A whimsical character, her presence lent the movie with humor and a breath of fresh air. However, it was Tony Leung for me who took away the first prize. Armed with subtle and minimalist expression, the guy stood for everything that a bereaved lover has to face. Coupled with some dry, tongue-in-cheek humor, Tony made Cop 663 a flesh-and-blood character, whose inside is in constant and tranquil agitation.

It would be stating the obvious, if I were to praise Wong Kar Wai's direction here. His "In The Mood For Love" provided enough evidence of his excellence in film-making. An eminent name in existential cinema, this one, too, is one of his gems, and now a cult classic. Not worth missing.

Knight & Day - Pure, Hollywood Fun.

Director: James Mangold.
Year: 2010
Rating: * * *

It’s hard to recall the last time I had such fun watching a silly, yet an entertaining movie. The movie has a threadbare excuse for a plot, but it successfully navigates around that loophole; thanks to its breezy execution, some over-the-top action sequences, and amazingly, Tom Cruise.

Tom Cruise plays Roy Miller, a CIA agent gone rogue, currently on a mission that involves safeguarding an invention and the inventor from falling into some dirty hands; from both on the side of the law and beyond it. The prized-possession in question is a perpetual battery that packs in enough power to light up a small city forever. While he’s on his way to meet with the inventor, Roy bumps into June Havens (Cameron Diaz) and unwittingly, involves her in the thick of action and hair-raising sequences that’s about to ensue. With CIA agents and some baddies hot on his heels and tracking down Roy’s every move, it’s no wonder that June, too, is forcibly embroiled in this mess of a situation. Roy’s charm and smooth-talking demeanor doesn’t fail to leave a romantic impression on June, but only to be put to doubt once he reveals his true calling and identity. Hesitant at first, June soon takes a liking to Roy’s fatal and nail-biting adventures, while being lugged along over half the globe and through many precarious situations.

There were a handful of set-pieces that stood out, despite its implausible nature. One of them was the introductory combat between Roy and at least 10 individuals that were onboard a flight. He takes every one of them out in a jiffy, without even breaking a sweat. The moves were as smooth as hot knife on butter, and Tom Cruise pulled it off as better as anyone else could’ve. There were some good chase sequences, too, both on bike and car; reminiscent of the Bourne series. Hell, there was even a foot-chase over the slanting rooftops of an Austrian neighborhood, a la, Bourne Ultimatum. More such sequences adorn the whole movie, and you never realize how time just flies by. Granted, that it’s not the grittier stuff that one would normally associate such elusive-agent-gone-rogue sort of escapism (credit goes to the immensely brilliant Bourne Trilogy), but the movie has its moments; a lot of them, actually.

Barring some rare movies like Minority Report, Collateral, etc., I haven’t really been a fan of Tom’s movies. I really don’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed his movies as much as I did this one. He was just not the Tom Cruise you’d normally picture as. He carried a Bond-esque panache with Bourne’s agility and combat chops, but also peppered it with a subtle, tongue-in-cheek humor. No matter how dangerous the situation he always found himself in, he always had enough time to seamlessly integrate his amusing banters and quips. It was just too much fun to watch and I enjoyed every bit of it. Cameron Diaz, too, gave Tom Cruise superb company. Floundering at the start, but soon starting to follow in Roy’s footsteps, Cameron beamed with innocence and charm. Letting Roy’s influence rub off on her, Cameron smoothly switched gears from the unsuspecting customer to a capable ass-kicking lady of sorts. There was amazing chemistry between the two leads and they had the whole damn movie to play with it; and they did a marvelous job.

With all the aforesaid praises, I don’t see a reason why one should miss such an entertaining fare. Yes, the concept is far-fetched, but once you overlook this transgression, the movie is one heck of a ride. A captivating and an unconventional performance from Tom, with great inputs from Cameron as well, and ample of breakneck-speed action, it’s got all the ingredients that typical Hollywood action movies are supposed to have. Just go in without any hopes for a serious plot, and you’ll come out as a satisfied viewer.

Le Notti Di Cabiria - A Bittersweet Slice of Life

AKA: Nights of Cabiria.
Director: Federico Fellini.
Year: 1957.
Rating: * * * *


My first experience with a Fellini masterpiece was nothing short of a serene walkthrough, amidst the human failings and the double-edged sword called hope.

It’s one of those movies where the progress of the plot is made at the lead character’s expense; and it’s a tough ask. But if you have a maestro of Fellini’s proportions and a sea of unprecedented talent in Giulietta Masina, the movie just can’t be any less than a true gem.

Cabiria (Giulietta Masina) is a hooker, working her nights out in the streets of Rome, with a cohort of similar-themed professionals. Banking on the promiscuity and temptation of men, Cabiria has hoarded enough to have a place to call home, and her own back to fall on. However, one aspect she differs from the rest of the motley, is that Cabiria wants more from her life; true love to be precise. She has started to feel the weight of loneliness on her shoulders, and she pines and weeps to have just one fine gentleman who can give her the love she never got. Unfortunately, her wishes were fulfilled, but only to be thrashed back vehemently to the reality: She’s a prostitute and men are just looking to use her.

Despite the aching letdowns, her eyes never stop glinting at the site of a probable lover. The movie is a string of a couple of such encounters, where Cabiria makes the mistake of seeing a glimmer of hope in the next man/customer she runs into. First in line is a filthy-rich celebrity Alberto Lazzari (Amedeo Nazzari), whom Cabiria, apparently, admires. She can’t believe her luck when he solicits her after having dumped his jealous, money-grubbing girlfriend. After a couple of hours of pure uptown and royal experience, reality comes knocking on Cabiria’s door, dragging her back to her old ways. She even tries to find answers and redemption in spirituality, imploring Madonna to rid her of all her ailments, but all in vain. Her search for true love always turns up empty, until she meets a certain Oscar (François Perier), whom she gradually develops a liking to. She believes he’s the one, and does everything in her power to not let the opportunity and the love, slip away. The climax, as some might have guessed by now, comes from the relationship of these two people. For an avid viewer, it might be a little predictable, but that doesn’t stop a lump from rising in your throat during those final moments of the movie.

With an adorably simple plot, the movie is more of a character-driven exercise; and I agree I don’t know much about Italian actors of that era, but I doubt if anyone other than Giulietta could’ve pulled it off as brilliantly as she has. Complementing the character tone, Giulietta’s a ball of fire, a live dynamite, about to go off at any moment. At the sight of pure joy, she just can’t contain herself. She’s a feisty, little woman, with ample of self-respect, even in the face of her derided profession. But when it comes to love, she’s just another bubbling, gullible lady, who hasn’t had the good charm of experiencing that emotion. The fortress she carries on with throughout her days, seem to wear out when faced with love or something like it. With such a concoction infused in just one role, Giulietta works her way through, beaming with insurmountable confidence and a child-like, pure innocence.

If Giulietta is the puppet, hitting all the right notes, then Fellini is the genius puppeteer pulling all the right strings to make his puppet dance to his tunes. Interjecting despondent humor in those bright moments, he alludes to the hopelessness of hope itself for Cabiria, and all that goes awry with her. Grounding his film in reality, yet giving it an air of a fairy tale, he juxtaposes the two aspects, but tipping mostly in the favor of stark truth.

If I were to go ahead and pick one favorite scene, I’d choose the scene at vaudeville. Cabiria is put under a trance by a magician, and all her innermost desires brim to the surface. The sweet pain of an unfulfilled life, yet have the strength to continue to chase happiness, is evident, and underscored so strongly by the leading lady’s ethereal performance and charm. A bittersweet scene, it pulled at all of my heartstrings, compelling me to give in to that one weak moment.

If I were to say that the movie is highly recommended, it’ll be an insult to the movie itself. One would truly be fortunate to watch this movie, and realize how filmmaking could be so simple and yet pack in such earth-shattering experiences. There never is a dry moment in the movie, and even the most cynical fellow (which, apparently, I am) can’t help drop the mask and grow a little hope for love.

Salt - Enough spice for a one time watch.

Director: Philip Noyce.
Release Year: 2010.
Rating: * *1/2


It’s been almost an eternity since I last saw a decent popcorn movie; Salt filled that void recently. Surprisingly, and unlike other members of its herd, the movie had a pretty nice concept at its core, which could’ve executed in one of many ways, with “competent enough thrill-ride” being one of them, and Salt paints that picture pretty vividly.

The movie opens with Evelyn Salt’s (Angelina Jolie) interrogation at the hands of North Korean military, charge with being an American spy. The opening sequence itself is pretty grim and the movie itself is pretty violent in parts; an improbable trait for such flicks, but the movie does ample of justice to this approach. Flash forward to two years later, with the front as a petroleum employee, Salt is, in fact, a CIA agent, with a pretty steady life and a loving German husband. Soon, this whole equation is soured, when a Russian defector walks into the hands of America’s secret services, with an incendiary piece of information. On the eve of America’s Vice President’s funeral, visiting Russian president will be assassinated by one of the Russian agents, currently active on American soil, and has been so for a huge portion of his/her life. But that info is just the tip of the iceberg. He proceeds to reveal the identity of the assassin in question, which obviously, is none other than Salt herself. Inexplicably, despite claiming innocence and having her colleague Ted (Liev Schreiber) stand by her side, Salt escapes from the facility, and we’re thrown into the thick of action. Thereafter, it’s a breakneck-speed ride, with not even a straying moment, and the movie breezes past its running length in a snap.

The movie acts as a vehicle for Angelina Jolie, to remind people that she still got the Lara Croft chops, the agility, the oomph, and some acting talent, too; I’m yet to see her act as good as others in her league do. Anyway, the lady digs into her role, coming up with some fabulous action scenes. She looked very unconvincing, though, in scenes where she’s shown excelling in hand-to-hand fights. She just doesn’t carry that super-swank ass-kicking presence; something Carrie Anne Moss symbolized and is idolized for in “The Matrix Trilogy”. Talk about jumping down an elevator shaft, or from one tanker in transit to another speeding van, or even handling myriad of firearms with ridiculous ease, I’m willing to bend backwards and watch her do all that, but she just wasn’t convincing enough for me in the combat department. As for other instances, she was an absolute treat to watch. Her turn as a desperate agent on the run, dumbfounded by the accusations made on her, and yet, seemingly cryptic in her actions at every step of the way, was credible indeed. She managed to let the ambiguity of her identity reflect and project onto the viewers. Throughout the movie, we’re left guessing the verity of her reality, and the moment we recline in our seat, believing that we’ve figured it out, the plot throws another acute twist and jolts us out of our comfort zone, to use our noodle some more.

As previously stated, if the movie’s concept had been utilized to its exhausting possibility, it would’ve been more than your typical summer action flick. In fact, if Paul Greengrass had directed this movie, I’m certain he would’ve produced another Bourne-class female spy movie. Sadly, but not regrettably, the actual director does plenty of justice to his role as well as the movie’s rather zigzag plot, which is told in a simple fashion. The director lets the story unfold through a series of over-the-top chase sequences, gunfights, improbably hairy situations that are always a joy to watch and see it materialize on the big screen. The director does try to throw in a little humor, with Liev Schrieber quipping in some parts, but they come out as clichéd or corny as they can ever be. Amidst all the crashing cars, whizzing bullets, some overblown claims and scenarios, the director does stop to remind us of the actual plot the movie is woven around, but doesn’t add much to that notion. It just acts like a reminder, while you’re busy watching the femme fatale kick some butt. Overall, the movie is not a bad choice at all, for a lazy evening with friends of both genders. Males would get to drool over the leading lady they probably fancy or once did, and the other lot would gape in awe, admiring the stuffs that this lady can pull off.

Insomnia - A Downcast, Potent Thriller.

Director: Erik Skjoldbjærg.
Language: Norwegian, Swedish.
Release Year: 1997.
Rating: * * *1/2

Watching this original version of the Nolan’s brilliant remake of Pacino and Williams starrer “Insomnia”, one can’t help but make unwarranted comparisons. The original has its own strength and its own way of telling a gloomy tale set against a backdrop where sun doesn’t set for a long time, but unfortunately, it falls a few inches short in being the masterwork that the remake was.

Jonas Engstrom (Stellan Skarsgard) and his buddy cop, Erik Vik (Sverre Anker Ousdal) are brought in from Sweden to help the Norway police with a teenager’s murder, whose body was found at a dumping ground. Engstrom’s reputation precedes him, especially because of a past incident in his profession that seems to have tainted his, otherwise, spotless and unprecedented career in the law enforcement. This particular part seems to have been left out from the original, and was only touched upon on few, rare occasions, whereas the remake had developed an engaging subplot out of this fallacy of the lead, and had acted as a rather catalyst that drove the movie to a great extent. Engstrom doesn’t waste any time in lining up the suspects followed by his subtly methodical interrogation in making them squeal.

Not long after, while chasing the real culprit amidst the blinding haze at the riverside, a serious lapse in judgment on Engstrom’s part results in a tragedy, which he himself, unwittingly, has perpetrated. This blow to his conscience leaves Engstrom devastated at first, later, manifesting itself as sleep deprivation, a.k.a. insomnia, and hallucinations. The guilt and the residual images of the event, constantly and vehemently eats away at Engstrom. However, being an ace cop that he is, he pushes through this unforeseen eventuality, and closes in on the real murderer. Now, it’s not actually a whodunit, because even a 10 year old would be able to point his finger at the real murderer here. It’s more about playing the balancing act with the real murderer. Fearing that the murderer would act on his knowledge about the accidental shootout at the riverside, the only way out Engstrom can see from this mess, is to help the murderer escape the rap, and frame someone else for the crime committed against the teenage girl. It’s as simple as “you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours”. Engstrom does comply and uses his wits to wipe off all the traces that could lead the cops back to either him or the real murderer. The ending lacks the purging that was a part of the remake, but the movie still manages to hold its own.

It’s Stellan Skarsgard all the way in this movie. His portrayal of the troubled, with a guilty conscience and with “a dead man walking” demeanor cop, relays the deadening calm and glumness of the movie in a very underrated and “beneath the layer” sort of fashion. The constant battle with his actions, both in the present and the past, gradually taking a toll on his psyche, was vociferously apparent in how he goes about his job after the incident by the river. Carrying the whole movie on his shoulders, helped to a great extent by air-tight screenplay and execution, Stellan Skarsgard leaves an immensely engraved impression. Speaking of execution, the movie almost lacks any background score, which compounds the eerie feel of the movie and the gloomy town of Norway, takes it to another level. It feels as if one is walking through a silent nightmare, watching over the lead’s shoulders, as he proceeds to unravel the secret of a crime, and eventually, putting his own wounded scruples to rest.

Now coming to the inevitable comparison with the remake, the original lacks the grim style and the gripping approach that Nolan had going for his movie. Both the movies are slow in its pace, but the remake had a handful of subplots, seemingly attaching itself to the main plot, and keeping the whole affair intriguing and fresh. The original however, doesn’t do that, and goes straight as an arrow, following the main plot, with a semblance of minute diversions that doesn’t really transform into anything. On the performance front, the original has Stellan Skarsgard playing the lone ranger, while the remake had stellar performances from both the hero and the antihero. The original doesn’t give much room to the killer’s character, played by Bjorn Floberg, to maneuver his acting chops, leaving him to play the second fiddle to Stellan’s character.

Overall, the original is a good movie, with great acting by the lead, strong script and some nice photography, but it doesn’t quite hit the mark that the remake was able to. If I had to pick between the two, I’d pick the gripping remake by Nolan, over this rather wandering, sleepy thriller.

Sheng Si Jie - Meeting Life in it's Starkness

Director: Shaohong Li.
AKA: Stolen Life.
Language: Mandarin.
Release Year: 2005.
Rating: * * *

“Stolen life” is a coming-of-age tale, told in a very uncompromising and unflinching fashion. The human fallibilities that lead to life-altering consequences are on display here, and it helps to have competent actors flesh out the script onto the screen.

Yan’ni (Zhou Xun) was abandoned by her real parents, and burdened on her aunt and granny for her upbringing. Obviously, she grows distant from her parents, and never makes any bones about it whenever she gets to see her mom; which is rarely. Unable to understand the reason behind her parents’ decision of forsaking her, she gives them the “could shoulder” when both her parents visit her for the very first time in her life. Seeing her dad for the very first time, she’s at loss of words, both out of shock and awe. Coming up with opposition from her guardians, on her decision to pursue higher education, she finds an ally and encouragement in her estranged father, who gives her the needed boost to follow her dreams. Soon, Yan’ni is accepted into a university, and her guardians are only happy to get rid of her.

On her very first day, she runs into Muyu, a 20-ish, charming fellow, working as a delivery boy at the university. Muyu is very forthcoming and doesn’t let any moment pass without helping the lonely and the lost soul that Yan’ni is. Yan’ni, too, doesn’t miss a beat in falling in love with this benevolent fellow, who always goes out of his way to help her with everything; from buying her knick-knacks to giving her the only friendly shoulder. After both of them realize the love they have for each other, Yan’ni’s life takes a drastic turn for worse. Her focus starts to shift towards spending time with Muyu, which also includes being intimate with him at such a nascent stage, both in age and life. Following in the footsteps of a typical teenager, she moves in with Muyu, into a dingy, underground bunker of sorts. Just like your run-of-the-mill teenage complications that arise, by getting into a “relationship” at such a tender age, here, too, Yan’ni meets reality in its bareness: She becomes pregnant with Muyu’s child. After perusing all the available options, and weighing it against her own prospects of getting educated, Yan’ni decides to quit everything, and live at Muyu’s mercy in bringing the child into this world. Muyu doesn’t hold back anything, and helps her and loves her with all his might, while Yan’ni becomes a shut-in, festering in that shack, surviving off meager necessities, loneliness and dreariness, all the while, stagnating.

A setback makes both these characters sit up and smell the coffee. Struggling for even a proper two meals per day, both of them scamper around for monetary reprieve. Managing to come up with some means to survive for a while, with Muyu helping on all terms, Yan’ni’s met with another predicament when one of her guardian discovers her miserable self, and the deplorable state she’s dug herself in. Soon, Yan’ni’s mother comes knocking on her door, and lets her daughter in on the reason she’s neglected her all these years. She tells Yan’ni that, just like her, even her daughter’s fallen in the same rut that her mother once had. Her mother proposes a way out, but Yan’ni isn’t too keen on taking that piteous helping hand, but that doesn’t stop the mother from making a deal with Muyu. The deal is to put the child up for adoption once it’s born, and in return, her mother will bear all the related expenses up till that point.

Losing her child to a stranger in adoption, Yan’ni is nothing but devastated. Thereafter, life is not the same for both Yan’ni and Muyu. They are well off, but the spark they once had has started to die out, or perhaps, even dead. One day, to Yan’ni’s disbelief, the news about Muyu’s affair is revealed by Muyu’s current girlfriend. Rejecting the claim, but still needing to put her curiosity to rest, Yan’ni ransacks her place, only to find something that comes as a blow to her guts, and rips her heart into shreds. Muyu’s skeletons come tumbling out of the closet, and Yan’ni is appalled at the man’s heinousness and her own stupidity, for having trusted her life in the hands of such an abhorrent creature. The climax is where Yan’ni finally takes charge of the situation and her life, avenging the unspeakable things done to her, in her own poetic way.

The movie is shot with minimal fuss, employing no unnecessary fancy cuts, or intellectual angles, or going ballistic with the score. The treatment is grounded in reality, with its blandness evident in every scene, and an almost absence of music. It’s more like documentary, but only more fictional yet, relevant. With only a handful of actors to deal with, the director doesn’t mess up with the combinations, and is successful in bringing out the authenticity in the situations and characters onscreen.

Jun Wu as the masquerading philanderer and lover Muyu, was a presence to be reckoned with. Playing it below the radar in most of the scenes, he delivered handsomely on all counts. One scene in particular, where his performance was truly outstanding, was couple of minutes before the end. After being exposed, Yan’ni tries to hurt Muyu, but a medical condition makes it very hard for her to do so. There, Muyu just sits on the couch, smoking and blowing smoke nonchalantly, being absolutely indifferent toward Yan’ni’s plight and pain. How, after each and every sentence, Muyu was able to peel off the hidden layers of his personality, is truly commendable. Another scene is right at the end when, in his own twisted fashion, Muyu gives Yan’ni, probably the best advice she ever got. The apathy and the lurking selflessness that Muyu impregnated that particular scene with, was a treat to watch.

Yet again, it was Zhou Xun’s performance as the ingenuous yet, strong-willed Yan’ni, that was the heart and soul of this movie. She’s a thespian with an uncanny knack of putting a cathartic spin on the parts she plays. With her trademark subtlety and elegance, Zhou evoked every emotion there was to be evoked for her character. Unparalleled in her charm and all those tender expressions she infuses her scenes with, one can’t help but fall in love with her acting and her. It was a yet another tour de force of a performance, which made an almost average movie into a worthy affair. If it weren't for her, the movie just wouldn’t be as good as it was, and it wouldn’t get the rating it did. Yes, I’m that besotted by her

Once Upon A Time In Mumbaai - A pretentious, trite take on Mumbai's seedy past.

Director: Milan Luthria.
Language: Hindi.
Release Year: 2010.
Rating *1/2 (Only for Ajay Devgan).

Now, I was willing to put myself through this guillotine called Bollywood movie ,only for the lead actor Ajay Devgan and him only. I knew beforehand how the movie will pan out, despite having a solid concept at its core. So, I’m not going to waste my talent at picking movies apart, and just get it over with, with as few words as possible.

Sultan Mirza (Ajay Devgan), drifts into the Mumbai waters after a deluge in his hometown. Subsisting on petty jobs, he starts to reach for the bigger and riskier piece of pie. Sinking his teeth into the smuggling business, he soon becomes a name to be dreaded by all the antagonists, and to be revered by all in need. An innate philanthropist, people look up to him as their savior, despite his shady profession, and all he asks in return is for them to pray for him. He’s a stern follower of the principle: If you can do away with by being friends, then why make enemies? He follows every word of it religiously. Thanks to him, all the warring factions within the city are kept in check, by delegating a part of the city to each gang, while Mirza keeps his stranglehold on Mumbai’s sea.

Shoaib (Emraan Hashmi), the anti-Mirza in terms of his approach to realize his ambitions, forms the other side of this coin. Irascible by nature, he quickly gives in to violence, with a devil-may-care attitude toward the aftermath. Committing petty crimes, and later on, gangs up with the Mirza clan, hoping to climb the ladder to the top with whatever means he deems fit in getting the job done. Soon, a righteous and a no-nonsense cop ACP Agnel Wilson (Randeep Hooda) is appointed to keep these antisocial elements from taking the whole of city to ransom. His initial attempts at coming down hard on these gangsters, Mirza in particular, are met with embarrassing failure. However, after the fallout between Mirza and Shoaib, Agnel decides to play bystander, while these two forces are en route to a collision, where only the weaker and the older power will yield, leaving one less scum to deal with for the police. This lapse in judgment by the cop, results in dire consequences, both for the police and the city of Mumbai.

Now, such an interesting concept, loosely based on the real-life gangsters Haji Mastan and Dawood Ibrahim, and the eventual violent souring between the two, could have been made into an engaging watch. Alas, the director doesn’t have the chops to keep the integrity of such a story intact, while transitioning it from paper to the screen. Certain aspects of the bygone Mumbai era were faithfully revived, but that wasn’t enough to save the movie. Among performances, Kangana Ranaut as Mirza’s moll does an okay job at filling the screen for the time being. Prachi Desai as Shoaib’s gullible love, does as much justice as it was possible for a one-shaded role she was given to play with. Randeep Hooda exudes confidence, but the screenplay and those terrible, threadworn punchlines he’s made to spew every time he makes an appearance, does an irreparable damage to his contribution to the movie. There are some scenes where he does shine, and lifts the movie to an admirable height, but the effect ceases to exist as soon as he comes up with yet another infantile crack. Emraan Hashmi as Dawood’s fictional embodiment breezes through the movie with one wooden expression, and hams it up while delivering those, yet again, corny oneliners. Honestly, a serious misjudgment on the writer’s part to make every Tom, Dick and Harry sound like a philosopher of the modern Dark Age, played a huge part in evoking derision and embarrassment.

The only saving grace, and the only element that made me stand this torture was Ajay Devgan. He, too, is made to quip, but the director was benevolent and sensible enough to give him some smart wisecracks and not platitudes. Every scene he appears in, makes it your worth while. His performance can be compared to his flawless take on an underworld don in Ram Gopal Varma’s eternally classic “Company”. The only difference is that his character in the other movie wore dark humor and radical philosophies on his sleeves. Here, Ajay Devgan’s character romances, goes all “gaga” at the sight of his love, and has a slightly bright disposition. With his unearthly eyes that speak volumes, and the charisma he personifies in his portrayal, made this movie a tad bearable for me. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even look at the movie’s poster.

Suzhou He - A Raw Beauty.

AKA: Suzhou River.
Director: Lou Ye.
Language: Mandarin.
Release Year: 2000.
Rating: * * * *

I had heard quite a bit about the movie, thereby piquing my curiosity. Even in the absence of this urge, I still would’ve proceeded to watch the movie, simply because it had Zhou Xun: the actor who continues to enchant and amaze me. A rather uniquely told, the movie has a simple yet, an unconventional story, dragged through the mire and grime infesting the titular river bank.

The film is almost a monologue, seen through the eyes of a nameless and a faceless narrator, who works as a videographer, doling out his services to anyone interested in capturing the stark and unadulterated slice of their lives. One such job leads him to a dingy bar, where the owner asks him to shoot a special attraction he provides for his customers. The bar holds a huge water tank, and Meimei (Zhou Xun) performs in it, dressed as a mermaid. The boss wants the narrator to shoot one such performance for reasons unknown. The narrator loses his heart to this lovely lady the very first time he sees her, and they soon start to go out. Temperamentally inclined, Meimei keeps the relationship physical, with only occasional burst of feelings from her side. She arrives at the narrator’s doorstep as an unannounced guest whenever she sees fit, and vanishes with an equally discourteous abruptness. This erratic nature of the relationship keeps the narrator guessing about her true intentions, with the fear of she never returning, constantly gnawing at him. Meimei’s past remains a mystery to the narrator, and she makes sure it stays that way. The narrator doesn’t try to read too much between the lines, poring only on the beautiful present he’s getting to share with her.

On one such random moment between the two, Meimei asks the narrator if he’d hunt for her if she were to disappear some day for good, just like a certain, fabled lover Mardar (Hongshen Jia), who’d comb the city looking for his long-lost love Moudan. From that point on, the movie takes an acute turn, where the narrator decides to withdraw from the present narrative, and digress into an impromptu fictional world of the star-crossed lovers Mardar and Moudan. The narrator depicts Mardar as a handsome, thirty-ish guy, bearing a poker-face and an austere attitude, making his living as a courier. During one such assignment, Mardar is asked to take a twenty-something girl, Moudan (Zhou Xun) to her aunt’s, while her father satisfies his capricious carnal urges. Moudan is quite an animated character, with a typical teenage zest, and in anticipation of being discovered and loved.

After a couple of outings with Mardar as a part of his assignment, Moudan starts to fall for this enigmatic fellow, but Mardar keeps her at arm’s length. Deciding not to mix business with pleasure, Mardar meets Moudan’s advances with disappointment more than a couple of times, leaving her heartbroken, but not beaten. The narrator continues to add details and twists as he goes along with the narration, which later becomes a scene of kidnapping, the tragedy that ensues, and Mardar pounding the pavement looking for his lost love.

Seamlessly insinuating details from his own life, characters and situations, to spice up the simmering alternate story, the narrator fuses reality with the tale he fabricated. At this point and thereafter, the movie’s reality becomes pretty hazy, as the collage of two different worlds are juxtaposed, blending an action from one with the consequence into another. This makes for a very engaging and an interesting viewing, sometimes heartrending, but always something fresh on offer. The narrator decides to end his story on a “punch-to-your-gut” note, albeit not without a final deft blow to the chin, which also serves as the finale of the movie itself.

Almost the entire movie is seen through the eyes of the narrator’s handheld camera, featuring the ever-pervasive jerk effect. The cinematography is up close and personal, bringing out the deformed texture of the rundown habitat the movie festers on, with the dark, dour omnipresence of an unseen underbelly flanking the eponymous river, sprouting lives on the edges. The opening shot could easily be mistaken for a typical Dharavi sewer that any guy from Mumbai could spot blindfolded. The camera is seen floating above the filth and through the haggard lives surviving on them by the river. The loud staccato of drums bring out a brooding sense of a grand melancholia, and desperation and the will to exist in the face of degrading, isolated lives. The natural production aesthetics, including the ubiquitous shots of the river, stands out as another character, against which lives are stacked, pinned and tested.

The direction to me seemed like a concoction of Steven Soderberg’s gritty realism, Chris Marker’s solemn narration rife with soliloquies, Wong Kar Wai’s meandering yet, beautiful imagery and mood, with a hint of Hitchcock-esque obsession in uncovering the facts underneath all the dirt and masquerade. All these traits permeated the movie, treating its viewers to a many-lobed execution, all for the price of one. Coming to the performances, Hongshen Jia, with his impassive portrayal of Mardar, wearing his cold heart on his sleeves when confronted with Moudan’s love, and later, exhibiting a steadfast resolve while perusing the crowd for a face lost, just to redeem himself, and finally, melting away when his efforts pay off, only to meet an abrupt, spiral decline.

The real star of the movie, however, is Zhou Xun with who portrays two diametrically disparate individuals. Meimei, with her unflinching survival instincts, languishing eternally for something not expressed, and finding some reprieve and love in the narrator’s arms and later on, in Mardar’s, is exactly what brilliant performances are made of. Moudan, on the other hands, packs in that impish and naïve appeal that one can expect from a typical teenage girl, who’s oblivious to the cogs and wheels that make up the mean machinery of life around her. Zhou balances the two sides of the coin, giving each of her character their own distinct style and emotional baggage. With such an offbeat and unique blend of storytelling, propelled to a great height by the performances from its leads, especially Zhou Xun's, the movie is an exercise in existential cinema, with an occasional and surreal touch of crude reality, all coming together to deliver an extremely palatable and an unprecedented piece of art.

Kailangan Kita - A Decent Effort.

Director: Rory B. Quintos
Language: Filipino. Tagalog.
Release Year: 2002.
Rating: * *1/2

This is my very first time experiencing a Filipino flick, and it wasn't a total disaster. The movie had a decent story at best, backed up by very credible performances, with some sentimental clichés thrown in to spice up the overall package.

Carl (Aga Muhlach) is returning to his roots, after having tasted success in New York as a chef for almost 15-odd years. The occasion is his wedding with another Filipino, Chrissy, who also immigrated to America and started her career as a model. Now a supermodel, busy with one of her shoots in Milan, she fails to meet her fiance at the airport, leaving Carl to his own intellect to deal with his future in-laws and the whole bunch in tow.

Bicoli, Chrissy’s hometown where the wedding is scheduled to take place, pales in expectation to Carl’s comparison with New York. He doesn’t hold back in carping about every aspect of the place. Thrown right in the middle of his future in-laws and their circle of acquaintances, Carl manages to impress just about everyone; not a tough ask, considering he’s handsome and a Filipino who has carved a niche for himself in America. However, he doesn’t have the same effect on Papay (Johnny Delgado), Carl’s future father-in-law. A patriarch, he has everyone under his thumb, and runs quite an autocratic setting, with hardly any room for personal ambitions that may deviate from his etched-in-stone norms. Utilising his culinary talent, Carl manages to floor Papay, too, eventually, and they soon build a very good rapport.

However, one member of the family, whom Carl mistakes as the housemaid, knocks his socks off with her humble beauty and reserved demeanor. Lena (Cluadine Berratto) is Carl’s future sister-in-law, but the moment he saw her, Carl’s face had lit up like a 1000-watt bulb. Thereafter, it was a downhill ride for Carl, slipping on the slippery slope of finding love, yet again, and probably souring his present disposition and the plans of getting married to Lena’s sister. Initially, only Carl feels the butterflies in his tummy, but the effect is soon seen rubbing off on Lena, too. After a rather lousy start, both of them soon start to accommodate each other, and rediscovering themselves as they move along. Carl helps Lena realize how beautiful she is, despite hiding under that garb of a “nobody”. Lena, on the other hand, helps Carl get over his hurting and inglorious past, and nursing his severed relationship with his estranged father. The fully-blossomed camaraderie between the two leads sets in motion a predictable set of events, leading to an intimate moment.

After all the branching developments are brought into the present context and to the notice of other family members of Carl’s in-laws, it’s obvious that climax will form the basis of a resolve, and a satisfying one at that. Including the above-average plot, a decent execution and very competent performances by the ensemble, the movie doesn’t fail to engage you at certain moments, and leaves you admiring some of the mature ingredients used in right quantity and at the right moment. The finale could be categorized as one of those moments, and so can the subplot involving the placating of the bitterness between a son and father. A couple of romantic scenes, too, are used beautifully.

The actors, especially the two leads and Johnny Delgado as Papay, were very talented and sketched their part with flesh and bone. Aga, complementing his good looks, displayed his acting skill, and performed admirably. Johnny, too, maintained the presence of an authoritative figure, demanding respect, and a whiff of intimidation. However, and is always the case with me, it was the leading lady that left an indelible mark. Building on her tranquil outlook, her smothered aspirations and a feeling of being subjugated, Claudine was probably the pick of the lot for me. She handled every scene with a ladylike elegance, throwing in a couple of powerful, emotional punches to the mix occasionally. Add to the beauty, which she let out through her simplicity, and it was just enough reason for me to sit through this, at best, average movie.

Made, probably, on a shoestring budget, but not scrimping on whatever substance they could incorporate, it’s genuinely a decent attempt, well supported by the caste, the almost-picturesque locales, and some exotic side-dishes. Not a bad movie to try when you have nothing to do, and would like to introduce yourself to some Filipino moviemaking.

Ru Guo . Ai - A tad short from being an absolute treat.

AKA: Perhaps Love.
Director: Peter Chan.
Language: Mandarin, Cantonese, English.
Release Year: 2005.
Rating: * * *1/2

Feeding my whim, I followed my last movie with another romantic fare starring the ridiculously adorable Xun Zhou. It’s no surprise that she left me enraptured, but can’t say the same about the movie, though. However, the movie isn’t bad at all. But if you jus take out the abovementioned gorgeous beauty, along with some other elements, from the whole equation, the movie would come across as yet another placid addition to the whole romance genre.

The movie is branched into two: Past and the present. In the present, Sun Na/Xiao Yu (Xun Zhou) is basking in the limelight of her cinematic success. With an auteur for a boyfriend, and barring her initial grind, her journey to the stardom wasn’t ever bound by despair and failure. With her boyfriend casting her in every movie he ever made, Sun never had to worry about her reputation, her fame and the influence she had on the masses. Success for her was being manufactured and manipulated on the editing table by her lover director.

However, in their latest musical project, and with a Hong Kong star as one of the two leads, Sun’s forced to revisit her morose past, which she walked away from 10 years ago, leaving someone heartbroken, betrayed and used. That someone is none other than the signed Hong Kong star Lin Jian-dang/ Zhang Yang (Takeshi Kaneshiro). To add to her misery, the story of this musical mirrors that of her own life, with some uncanny similarities in situations, characters, feelings involved and feelings smothered. Being an overly unyielding individual, putting on a swaggering facade, Sun denies acknowledging Lin’s presence. She keeps her acquaintance extremely platonic and professional. Being at the receiving end of such a heartless dame, lovelorn Lin can’t stand Sun’s deliberate ignorance. Despite his first few failed attempts, Lin pursues her relentlessly and with absolute intent.

Gradually, Lin’s agony and love for Sun manages to produce a rift in the cold shoulder she’s been giving him, compelling her to accept her past where he stood by her, always loving her with all his might, come hell or high water. Whereas, she put her ambition before him and love, ditching Lin twice for a shot at an acting career by clinging onto any director she set her eyes on. Lin would visit all the old places and memories they both were once a part of, hoping that she’d come back. Back in the present, Sun starts to accept her wrongdoings, and tries to do right by Lin. This development doesn’t go unnoticed by Sun’s present lover and the director of the musical Nie Wen (Jacky Cheung). Seeing red, he slips under the role of a circus master, the other lead of the musical. Through his scripted lines and songs, he conveys his hurt and disappointment. Sometimes, even going so far as changing the script on a whim, just to accommodate a scene where he'd lash out at Sun’s character in the musical, thereby letting out his own anger.

Stranded in a predicament, Sun carries on vacillating between the two men, unable to set her heart on one. The movie draws into the climax, with a grand finale scheduled for the musical where the verity of one’s love will be tested, decisions will be made and hearts will be broken. However, the end doesn’t quite tie it up completely, keeping it open for debate and room for interpretation. For me, though, the ending was quite clear, and the answers were deduced pretty easily.

Trying to shoehorn the musical genre in the telling of this rather decent love story, seemed out of place at times, and pretty deviating at others. The occasional and unwarranted breaking into opulent and colorful music and songs, were a little distracting, but it somehow managed to maintain the flow and the tone of the movie to an extent. The songs, obviously, brought out the inner demons, desires, affections and pain, which conventional dialogues couldn’t have. With brilliant choreography by our very own Farah Khan (something to boast about), decorating some nice, relevant, foot-tapping numbers, consummated by a gamut of opulent costumes, set pieces and execution, these royal-like ride was easy on the eyes, ears and extremely satiating. Since a better part of the movie is a musical, the score remained true to the intentions with which it was utilized, and complemented the whole offering by providing a uniquely delivered aspect to the movie.

However, I still feel that all the grandiose brought about by these musical numbers, somewhat hampered the overall beauty of the story; for me, at least. If I were to watch the whole movie without all the dance and songs, I might just enjoy it even more and rate it a tad higher. But, that’s not to say that all those songs were worthless. They were truly amazing and did a tremendous job at speaking the unspeakable. It’s the concoction of the two elements that didn’t quite go down well with me. The cinematography was on the brink of painting an exotic painting, riddled with moony images. Keep your eyes peeled for all the frames that were shot in the freezing-cold of Beijing, with intermittent snowing and a still view. Watching just two characters move around in this dead-silent setting with only the washed-out color of the snow, felt like a dream was materializing right before my eyes. The movie had many beautiful moments, which I always pine for in any romantic movie. The scenes may seem pretty ordinary when I mention them, but seeing them unfold on the screen, you’re bound to be mesmerized by it. For instance, Xun’s character has the habit of grinding her teeth in her sleep. At one point, after having shared an intimate moment, Lin’s character places his index finger right between her teeth to stop her making that sound, and she’s seen biting gently on the finger. It’s intensely romantic and downright adorable.

On the performance front, all the leads did justice to their part, and the polarizing effects that love and the lack of it that can have on a person. Takeshi was as handsome as he was a competent actor in his portrayal of the mourning lover. His character takes quite an abrupt turn at one key moment in the movie. But when his anger ebbs away, he realizes what a blunder he has made, and takes another sharp turn to right his wrongs. The following scene, with pin drop silence out in the frigid cold, with only a whisper of howling wind, and two people embracing like there’s no tomorrow, was one of the most beautiful highlights of the movie for me. Jacky Cheung’s portrayal of Nie Wen, with his quiet endurance at being a bystander, watching his love being snatched from him, was quite a tour de force. He played with his cards very close to his chest, and unraveling himself at decisive moments.

And as many have guessed by now, the bigger and the best part of the cake was taken by Xun Zhou. Firstly, I got to admit that her baritone-esque voice to me is sultrier than any siren. Moving over her sexy voice, the talent that she packs in is brilliantly underrated by her mean and lean looks. But beneath that non-descript exterior, exists one of the best actresses of our generation. She’s capable of pulling off every tricky emotion I’ve seen so far, and she does all that with her trademark calm and the entrancing beauty. Her character in the movie had to allude to several shades which, at times, could be termed pretty contemptible. Now, to evoke such extreme sentiments for such a beautiful lady does require transcendental talent in acting. Yet again, it’s she because of whom I’m awarding this movie more stars than it actually deserves. The movie might have worked for me if the two styles were made into two distinct movies, instead of producing the mélange which I quite couldn’t digest. However, Xun Zhou’s the only binding force that keeps the movie from falling apart and making a mess of it.

Yuan Yang Hu Die - A Review.

AKA: A West Lake Moment.
Director: Zi Yang, Ho Yim.
Language: Mandarin.
Release Year: 2004
Rating: * *1/2

It seems like all I could feast on these days are Asian romantic dramas, and they are turning out to be genuinely worth my while. This particular movie may not rate high among my charts, but there were instances where it really did reach out to me and made me care.

The film opens at the supernal bank of the West Lake, in southern China. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) and another guy Tong (Yim Ling) are run over by a drunk driver, and that marks the beginning of a very close-knit relationship. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) is an oddball personality, with her own sets of bizarre qualities. She stutters when nervous, and confides in a six-odd-year-old child who happens to be the product of her schizophrenia. Tong is a very down-to-earth guy, with Earth’s climate being his primary concern for the time being, and is doing his part in spreading awareness. Xiao runs a small café along with a couple of her friends, and also owns a tea house. Xiao considers Tong as her best friend, her confidante, if you will. Tong, however, is in love with Xiao, and makes no bones about it. Xiao, on the other hand, is not too keen in getting involved with him, for she thinks he’s still quite young for her. Moreover, she has been in a relationship with an American for quite some time, and the wave of bliss seems to have blown over for her, but she continues to plod along for the sense of security he’s able to provide.

Xiao is constantly at battle with her little “friend”, who’s driving her insane with demands of dumping the American, and settling for someone whom she can genuinely love and expect for the same in return. Xiao soon meets a smart-looking playboy called Qin (Kun Chen), who dreams to become a director. She’s immediately bowled over by him, and those darn feelings of love start surfacing. What’s interesting is that when it comes to quirkiness, even Qin’s on the same page as Xiao. He, too, stutters when nervous, and also has a repressed alter ego which he unwittingly turns to when in need. Despite his Casanova antics, Xiao enjoys Qin’s company more than any thing she’s had lately, and feels at extreme ease to open up to him. Same goes for Qin, who believes that it’s very comforting to share your dark secrets with a stranger, than it is with someone you know. That’s the only intention with which Qin enjoys being with her, but the same can’t be said about Xiao. The constant exposure to this charming, amorous fellow, only adds to her quandary. She finds herself walking the tightrope with a probable love at one end and the sense of security at the other. Tong, on the other hand, lives on the sidelines, always, hoping that Xiao will, one day, realize and give him a chance. Until then, he respects her decision of being close friends, and sticks with her through thick and thin.

Xiao is betrothed to one of his girlfriends, but like any other freewheeling, pleasure seeker, he, too, is afraid of commitment, which results in a fallout between the two. This opens a gate of possibility for Xiao and Qin, who don’t waste a moment in trying their luck at love with each other. As is the case with every relationship, the beginning is spirited, with copious amount of love and affection. Despite Qin’s constant insensitive nitpicking, Xiao stands by him and the relationship, putting up with the brutal criticism and Qin’s mercurial nature. Qin doesn’t share the same sentiments, and eventually, the prospect of being stuck with the same girl takes a toll over him. As a result, Qin’s emotions for Xiao start to dwindle, and one day, unannounced, he just leaves her to languish and nurse a broken heart.

After fate plays a mean hand to Qin, he starts to take things in the right perspective, and the revelation dawns on him that he may have made the biggest mistake of his life. Xiao, on the other hand, withdraws to solitude, locking herself away from the world. A tragedy after the breakup, serves as a catalyst in driving her further into isolation and depression. However, a fortuitous encounter, reignites love for both the leads, setting in motion some predictable turn of events, albeit sweet ones to an extent. The climax is anybody’s guess, and it’s obvious that this is not one of the movies that would leave a sour taste in your mouth, once you’ve finished watching it.

Now, there’s nothing great about the script. In fact, it’s some sporadic moments of pure innocence and puppy love that does tug at your heart. That’s exactly one of the few things that works in the movie's favor. These rather beautiful moments are few and far between, and the movie, overall, doesn’t quite conjure up more of those. In the end, the parts play out better than the whole offering. The director seemed at loss during the start of the movie. First couple of minutes were really haphazardly drawn, cramming quite a lot at the same time, forcing us to branch our train of thought toward different characters, plots and subplots. Barring these fallacies, the director regresses back into his comfort zone, and is able to proceed with the movie at a pace which it demands, constantly shifting his approach depending on the character and the situation. Same goes for the background score. It was aptly composed, complementing the character arcs and the situations. For instance, when Qin was the focus, the score would be a little bouncy, mischievous and naughty. But when Xiao was the center of the attention, the score tuned to soft melody, unveiling her inhibition at expressing her love for Qin, and it also hinted at her all-round demeanor.

Among the aspects that compelled me to sit through the entire movie was the photography, especially that of the titular lake. The mist of the early morning, the dead silence of unruffled water, and nothingness meeting at the horizon of the lake, was captured faithfully and beautifully. The movie takes a very surreal turn at these points, and the vista, among other things, is worth your time spent.

Overlooking the pedestrian story, and giving the “above ordinary” execution its due, the performances by the lead actors was the primary saving grace for this average fare. Kun Chen as the unpretentious womanizer displayed decent enough chops to act. He was not that bad, to put it simply. Yim Ling as Xiao’s overlooked lover, was probably way better than the lead himself. He was able to bring sensibility and maturity to his role. He was superbly stilled when playing out certain slippery scenes of complex emotions. Moreover, if I’m not mistaken, he has also composed the score for this movie. So, it’s a very comprehensive performance indeed.

It’s Xun Zhou who's the real winner, and the one who beguiled me for the entire movie. Just her presence was enough to fill the screen with limitless appeal, and the fact that she’s so damn adorable added to the whole affair. It’s not just the looks, but talents, too. She didn’t falter in even a single scene and, undoubtedly, she steals the show from every actor in the movie. You just can’t stop yourself from loving this character and feeling her pain when she’s given the short end of the stick in love. Her effortless transition from a reposed and self-secured person, to a confused woman uncertain about the choices in love she should make, followed by the lively and childlike energy exuded when her love is requited, is what kept the movie from losing its hold over me. And then, gradually, her spiral into reclusion, pining for the love lost, only to bounce back later on as a much stronger person, completes the journey of her character with aplomb. Honestly, she’s the only reason why I enjoyed this movie. She balanced her act in myriad ways, befitting the need of the hour and the script. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t even bother writing this review.

Scandal: Joseon Namnyeo Sangyeoljisa - A Review.

Director: Je-yong Lee.
AKA: Untold Scandal/ The Scandal.
Language: Korean
Release Year: 2003
Rating: * *1/2

Adapted from the novel “Les Liaisons Dangereuses”, Untold Scandal is a titillating account of a wager between two prominent figures in their land, circa Chosun Dynasty, when Catholicism was rearing its head, and the obsolete policies and norms that tormented the then society, were giving way to a less conservative lifestyle and a little more freedom.

Sir Cho Won (Yong-jun Bae), a handsome widower and yet, a notorious philanderer, doesn’t miss any opportunity to bed the woman he sets his eyes on. In public’s eyes, he claims that his heart has place only for his deceased wife, but in the enclosed walls and under the sheets of his abode or any, his libido and promiscuity overrun and invade his “love” for his late wife. Age and status don’t come in his way of gratification. He’s also in a habit of painting his exploits of copulation in meticulous and graphic details for posterity.

Lady Cho (Mi-suk Lee), wife to Cho Won’s brother, plays the other principal character, and the one pulling the important strings. She enters into a deal with Cho Won by asking him to deflower a 16-year-old girl, who’s set to become her husband’s concubine. She wants to present her husband with a wedding gift in the form of a pregnant concubine, thus allaying her thirst for revenge. If Cho Won’s successful in this feat, Lady promises him a reward he’s been craving for a very long time: Her body. However, Cho Won thinks that to woo and then make hay with a nubile, ingenuous girl is beneath him, and hardly a matter to waste his talents on. He is more interested in a widow living next door, whose husband died before even they got married. Since then, the widow hasn’t been in any relationship, physical or emotional, and is renowned for her chastity. Breaking that wall of chastity is Cho Won’s next mission. But Lady doubts his competency, for the widow falls in the category of a very resistant strain of female kind, with no bone naïve enough to fall for a seducer. So this becomes the new deal that both the characters settle on. If Cho Won accomplishes his task along with the proof of the same, in the form of that virginal widow’s blood, Lady Cho will gladly submit herself to him. However, on failing to prove his prowess, Cho Won will have to adopt abstinence, by living the rest of his life as a monk. The deal is signed and sealed, with only the results to be delivered.

Cho Won uses all the tricks to paint a rosy and a sympathetic picture of himself in front of the widow, Lady Chung (Do-yeon Jeon). He presents her gifts, makes “anonymous” donations at the church she surreptitiously attends at the dead of the night, saves her from hired goons, and finally, confesses his love for her. However, all his corny efforts are met with stern opposition, and dissent from Chung. A fervent follower of all the rules and regulations the society has burdened a woman with, Chung retains her steadfast role of a faithful wife to a dead husband, and a dutiful daughter-in-law to her in-laws. But this hostility spices up the adventure even more for Cho Won, and increases exponentially, the determination to invade Chung’s privacy, whose fruits he believe, will be unlike any other.

Lady Cho, on the other hand, is busy scheming to get the soon-to-be concubine pregnant, before her husband returns from his business trip. An opportunity comes knocking her way, when a teenager is swept off his feet by this new concubine So-ok (So-yeon Lee), and the effect this boy has had on So-ok isn’t any different. Fearing slander, none of them are able to do anything about their puppy love, and that’s where Lady Cho comes in with her ingenious plan for retribution. She promises to secretly help both of them, paving the way for their eventual carnal deed. However, her plans are stymied when Cho Won decides to avenge his sullying at the hands of So-ok’s mother who, in fact, was also not excused from Cho Won’s womanizing ways. For the sake of his revenge, he shifts his focus from “tigress hunting” to “fox hunting” and inadvertently, helps Lady Cho prepare the gift she’d requested him of in the beginning. When brought to Lady Cho’s notice, she’s content that the ends were met, means notwithstanding.

The game grows profusely, with feelings being forced to sway, ambitions and libido realized under the guise of love, innocence stripped to its ugly bareness, and favors returned in full through sexual perversion. The movie culminates when one indulges into the guilty pleasure of love, releasing someone’s fury, resulting into inevitable fatalities and heartbreaks.

This period drama had supreme production values, and managed to take its viewers on a tantalizingly adulterous ride, set within the suffocating boundaries of Chosun Dynasty. Yong-jun Bae as the smooth-talking lothario plays all the notes perfectly. The lecherous traits required to portray his character shone brightly on his face, every time he slept with his next “trophy”. His good looks only managed to complement he natural gift of soliciting women he already possessed. Later in the movie, his turn as a bereft prisoner added some gray shades to his overall repertoire, which he delivered on credibly. Mi-suk Lee as the equally lascivious and shrewd Lady Cho was probably the showpiece of this movie. Her deftly woven display of a woman betrayed by her husband, and the lengths she’d go to, to exact revenge, reminds me of the expression, “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”. Mi-suk’s wicked take on this character deserves to be seen and praised. Do-yeon Jeon as the emotionally-repressed Lady Chung was admirable in her role. Shouldering the unfair and irrational expectations of the society to cater to the preconceived morals and decorum, and finally, yielding to the emotions of love, Do-yeon injected believable and considerable life in her character.

Now, I haven’t read the novel, nor have I seen any of its cinematic interpretations. So making references or comparisons is out of the picture. But, for my taste, the story was nothing more than a series of sensual adventures stringed together, with decent amount of steamy material, and vividly colorful photography thrown in for good measure. The essence, for me, was missing, with plenty of impetus being put on the accomplishments under the sheets, and the backstabbing and sabotaging to win the bet, playing the second fiddle. It’s only during the final reel of the movie, that some emotions are seen flowing, and some genuine friction coming out of the same between the characters, that got me hooked for a while. But it was one last trick too late, and I had just given up caring about any of them, or where the movie was headed, because I had a very good idea how it would turn out.

Doodlebug - Genius, Sprouting.

Director: Christopher Nolan.
Release Year: 1997.
Rating: * * * *


Not many people must be aware of this three-minute short from the mastermind Christopher Nolan. It’s his earliest work, and the storytelling brilliance that has now blossomed into a rather blockbuster churning talent, is blatantly evident in this short film.

The movie is isolated in one room, where a man in his 20’s is on a lookout for something that’s been vexing him. Armed with a shoe, he scampers around to swat the little thing that seems to be driving him insane. The story comes across as a very simple one, but wait until it’s revealed as to what the guy is exactly after, and after he’s addressed that irritant, there’s another piece de resistance on its way to leave you impressed.

A straightforward execution for an extraordinary piece of plot, complemented with Nolan’s brilliantly, neo-noir handiwork that we’ve now become so accustomed to. A Nolan fan shouldn’t miss his foray into the film industry, which he now takes by storm every couple of years.