Bollywood, the deep.

“Really? You listen to Bollywood music when you are by yourself?”

People have been asking me that question for as long as I can remember. Some with shock, some surprise, some not as direct, some more direct than that --I’ve been fencing with the idea of “Bollywood is your type of music?” for more than a decade of my life.

It is my type of music. I’ve grown up on a staple diet of all things Bollywood, or the Indian Hindi film industry, for those of you who prefer to call it that. And I’ve been dealing with the fact that people will judge me, in various degrees, as soon as I say that.
Because though I do listen to Western music and though I do have some staple favourites there, if I’m alone in my room or really upset or really happy, I’m more likely to take refuge in Kishore Kumar or Yesudas than I am to tap into Simon & Garfunkel. Nothing against Sound of Silence. I love that song. Same as I like Bridge Over Troubled Water. And Lenny Cohen. And the Beatles and Bill Withers and so many many others. I even listen to Coldplay and Shakira and even Megadeath once in a while. When you have kid brothers and grow up in an India of the 90s and MTV, you listen to everything.

But my real comfort zone lies elsewhere and that has been the source of surprise and concern for so many people, I thought it was time for me to write this post. Also because I just got reminded that Bollywood is celebrating a 100 years of entertaining us. What better time?

Why surprise? Here’s the back story. Bollywood is pop, Bollywood is in bad taste, Bollywood is not deep and if you’re an urban teenager, Bollywood is definitely not hip.

It is cool to go watch Ang Lee movies, it is good to know of Scorsese. It is intellectual and deep to watch Hrithik Ghatak and V. Shantaram.  It isn’t that cool, important or intellectual to watch Raj Kapoor movies, or even Yash Chopras’. Because it is all “dhoom dhadaka, naach gaana.”

But here is my question, is it really all mindless entertainment that has no deep meaning? I am not an expert, but here’s my attempt at logic. I read Tagore and Shakespeare and Premchand with equal love. Notice, I said love. I enjoy reading them, and I try to learn from them. Surely, you won’t say I don’t have any ability to grasp depth and understanding at all?
Ok, so if you’re ready to give me that leeway, here’s my question for you, especially if you’re among those who have, at some point, wondered why the girl that spends time reading “heavy books” also listens to Bollywood.

Have you ever listened to those songs closely, or watched those movies intently?  Don’t fight me on “are you saying Bollywood is all sensible”? Of course not. But then, what is?
Keep obvious trash and inanity aside, and now think, have you ever really listened to them closely? If you have, do you really think there is nothing deep or motivating or soothing about Hindi pop music?

When an Amitabh Bachchan says, “nasha sharaab mein hota toh, naachti botaal,” is that not deep?

When a pair of separated lovers sing “Sarhad insaanon ke liye hain, Socho tumne aur maine, kaya paaya insaan hoke…”  does it not make you wonder?

When you are down and depressed and hurt, I bet listening to “Kuch reet jagat ke aisi hain, har ek subah ki sham huyi. Tu kaun hain, tera naam hain kya? Seeta bhi yaha badnaam huyi” not make you feel a little better. Try it.

Too poignant and mushy for you?  How about “ bela chameli ka, seja bichaya. Soye gori ka yaar, balam tarsey”?
No, there is no cleavage show in that song. Yet, I dare you to find me a more bold, non mushy  song sequence. Of course, taking into account how it has been shot and fit into the movie. We are, after all talking about the film industry.

There is a reason why Bollywood has been around for a 100 years. If it were really all frivolus naach gaana, that would not be possible. The law of elimination would have guaranteed that.

And it’s not all old and long gone. They’re making magic every day, right from singing “har ghadi badal rahi hain roop zindagi”, to saying “Usey musalsal kar bhi aao, wo jo ruki si raah baaki hain.”  Only, we need to listen.

So the next time you raise your eyebrows at people who say “Bollywood is my type”, think about this post. Maybe, those eyebrows won’t rise as high.

Oh, and let me know what your personal favorites are. I'll enjoy comparing notes.

Nautanki Saala!

So, Rohan Sippy decided to Bollywoodise Apres Vous. Which is a French comedy that I had somehow managed to watch when I was in college and was doing cool things like watch French movies about restaurateurs. It means “after you” and was quite good, even with subtitles.
Hence the special curiosity to check the Hindi version out. Sippy picked the right guy to play the Hindi Antoine in a character that needs to have comic timing, good acting and intelligence. Tada! Who else but Ayushmann Khurrana, he who is firmly establishing himself as the next potent sexy-brainy mix that is hard to ignore?

But sadly, one strong actor does not a movie make.
Nautanki Saala tries to do things different, succeeds in bits, but falls flat for the most. So Khurrana is Ram, who directs plays that are clichéd-ly called things like "Ravanleela". He also plays Ravan in Ravanleela, which is, you know, sooo fresh.
But Sippy does do a good job of handling his comic sequences. It’s always a pleasant surprise to see a Hindi mainstream comedy that does not have crassness, crudity or jokes that make one want to throw up. Khurana is brilliant in most parts, but frankly, the script gets jaded towards the end and the leading lady does not do anything to help the man. And I’m going to keep giving him the benefit of doubt. The man is extremely talented and good looking, pulled off a Vicky Donor, and in a world where Abhay Deol is increasingly getting lost (where is he?) Ranbir Kapoor needs some good competition. Kunaal Roy Kapur as the friend is good, but it’s not his movie, so he can't do much.
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Which reminds me, why a smart character like Ram would fall for someone who came across as nothing but a brainless ninny (and not even that hot), was lost on me.  Or maybe that is the point the director was trying to make. Who knows?
By the time the movie ends, you don't really know what point Sippy was trying to make at all. And like in his earlier movies, he has a potentially good story-- all the complexities of modern-day love--but does not tell it well. Ram falls in love with his friend’s girl and decides to ignore all the feelings to do the right thing. Only, it’s real love so the supposedly high point in the movie comes from a uber sexy Ram saying “bahut ho gaya nautanki, sala” and kissing his lady love passionately, fiancé and friend go to hell.
Because all the world loves a lover, the audience would have rooted for them, except for that the lady (I looked her up, Pooja Salvi) can’t act or kiss to save her life. Despite all the brave tongue show.
Anyway, that settles one part of the movie, but the plot hereafter is
like warm beer. Much as you want to drink it, beyond a point you just have to accept that beer does not taste good warm.
Friend, can you just already accept your girl likes Khurrana better? I mean, who won’t? Fiancee, can you accept your man loves the friend’s girl (to be fair she does, quite early on, and exists sans drama. Respect.)? Girl herself, can you accept you are currently dating an idiot and come on, how silly are you, really? Ok. Good.
So now we've untangled our cliched and done to death plot and need to end this show. What do we do?
We'll make our girl, who’s a florist, get on stage in the middle of a full-blown professional performance and get her to deliver perfect lines.
And the audience will love it. Because that's how professional theatre works. At least in DTPH, Madhuri and SRK had rehearsed being on stage for a long time.

There’re a couple of very good renditions of old favorites like “So gaya yeh jahaan” and “Dhak dhak karne laga” that the director has managed to weave into the movie in the middle of all this, and those are the moments that keep you from totally hating it. Those, and some comic sequences.
Watch it on cable or Netflix when they air it.

Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola

With Matru ki Bijlee ka Mandola, Vishal Bharadwaj has done the impossible. He has successfully managed to replicate the real India of today, in all its complexities, within a commercial framework that includes all things Bollywood. Without resorting to silly stereotypes.
In Bharadwaj's satire, which is set somewhere in the Hindi heartland of Haryana, the people are at the mercy of its rich resident with a drinking problem. Rustic as this character is, he speaks perfect English when he wants to, though he prefers to converse in his mother tongue. His daughter is Oxford-educated and his right-hand man went to JNU.
Yet, when they party at home and really want to have fun, their karaokes are in Hindi. Bharadwaj's revolutionaries do not hide in jungles, his revolutionary is well-spoken, can hold his own among political bigwigs and can pronounce "bourgeois" right while sharing a beedi with his high-society friend and her husband. Bharadwaj also shows the ugly rich India, through the brat that has grown up with "no sense of decency." And yet, because anyone with money can now access technology, this otherwise moronic character can score over his smarter politician friends by discovering pesticides that can kill crops when used wrongly.  Lesson here: do not turn up your noses at people that talk with heavy indigenous accents. They might just be smarter than your city rat self, and brought up better than you.
Mandola (Pankaj Kapur) is a megalomaniac who does what village lords have been doing for generations. He does not mind hurting his people for money, is hand in glove in his exploits with the Chief Minister (Shabana Azmi) , is filthy rich and an alcoholic. And because he is very Indian at heart, his hallucinations do not make him see pink elephants. He sees pink buffaloes. (Go Bharadwaj!)
He also instigates a rebellion against himself and stands for the constant capitalist versus socialist fight most modern Indians go through each day of their lives. We love our malls and Cokes, but we cannot completely stamp out the Gandhi in us. And in here, Bharadwaj taps the true potential of theatre and shows why and how that form of acting easily always trump its silverscreen rivals if and when given the chance. I think this also somewhat justifies why serious theatre actors have scoffed at film acting for generations, but let's not get into that debate. To say Kapur is brilliant in his role as the schizophrenic Mandola is an understatement, and I do not know how else to describe what he did in this movie, with able support from his other theatre trained colleague, Shabana Azmi.
Anushka Sharma is her usual peppy self and does nothing she has not done before, but because this is not her movie, it does not matter. She does her job well enough though, that of bringing glamour and entertainment. Imran Khan breaks new ground, and his sense of comic timing helps him hold his own against the highly seasoned Kapur, though his Haryanvi accent is suspect.
The movie belongs to Kapur, and he  reigns supreme, not once allowing the viewer's attention to wander.
Bharadwaj loves Shakespeare and uses the Bard magnificently, just as he did in his earlier ventures.
He uses Gulzar's (thank god the man is back, what with his last venture in Jab Tak Hain Jaan...) strong words to weave in songs that take the story forward and make you tap your feet along. He brings in a hot herione in skimpy clothes to entertain those who need it, but makes sure she can ride a bicycle on dusty roads and jump into dirty ponds despite being "phoreign" educated. There are also shades of Ray's "Hirok Rajar Deshey" in it, though I won't be able to say if it is just a case of great minds thinking alike.
And while juggling all of this, Bharadwaj manages to not lose sight of his main storyline: that of the Indian farmer, his constant struggle with local strongmen, politicians and even nature. The story of how this breeds what we call "anti social" elements. In all its wit and glory, it  manages to make fun of corrupt politicians, sympathizes with those who need it, shows us again how riches and power do not make a man and also stands for love and honour.
Matru Ki Bijli ka Mandola a rare example of a movie that balances its pathos, absurdities, wit and makes you laugh without having to resort to crudity.
There's just this one small concern. Bharadwaj should have timed this right. By the time they are looking for nominations for Filmfare 2013, MBM will be old and they'll have forgotten Kapur for the Khans. Or other Kapoors. Unless, he has better things lined up, of course.