Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Rocket Singh - A Film Review

This film review did not come sooner because one's thoughts at the end of the film were very personal. The review comes now because one read that not many people are getting into the theaters to see the film. Word of mouth is now necessary.

Films are about story telling. For people like me, the existence of a "story" is critical to the existence of a film. So when a film comes along that really has a story, and a gripping one at that, told well and crisply, with no added songs for masala and no cosmetic love interest with little to do (the love interest still looks super cute though), one is quite impressed.
Though Shimit Amin has done the hugely popular Chak De India, i m more impressed with this script, because it is not overly simplistic.

Ranbir Singh, oops Kapoor, gets into the role so completely that you forget the actor and remember only the character. Sure, the casting is right, but that's still no mean feat for an actor.
Notable Mention must be made of Prem Chopra. As Ranbir's grandfather, he has a screen presence that is impossible to miss. You come away thinking of his character as much as the lead actor's character. When one sees these superlative actors on screen, one realises the meaning of "well simmered. mellow yet strong." They are a treat.

I will not go into the story, because that will spoil the surprise for the average viewer. But if you have drudged to that SME office, day after day, if you remember your first job, and if you have gone to office parties, you will identify with the film at some level. You will want to relive all that through Rocket Singh (no, the character is not actually called Rocket Singh, nor is he a super salesman. Thats the surprise element of the film.)

The editing is relative. Most places, the tightness of the film delights, and at other times, one wishes the editor had prevailed a bit more on the director. But one thing on which the film has got it all right, is the Art Direction. Not one wrong set, not one wrong color.. if you have ever been in such an office, you will know the setting rightaway. The big offices, the small offices, the houses, the outdoor locations.. everything! It was a pleasure to see no more dream sequences. :-)

In short, go watch the film. In a theater. This film is sooo worth it.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Your Favorite poems tag..

So, which are your favorite poems?
Asked this question to a friend in Truth , and here is her answer:
1. Where the mind is without fear... Rabindranath Tagore
2. Home they brought her warrior dead - Tennyson
3. Main Parauna from my blog..(blush blush)
....
What's ur answer???

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

River, My Guru - Aripirla Viswam

I picked up this book, self published by the author, at Walden, Hyderabad, on 5th April, 1995.

The poems were too sad to be published, but i personally rate it as one of the best books i have ever read. Over the next few posts, i will be posting poetry from this book. Hope you like it..

The moment
man think
Of answers
He is caught
In the nest of conceit
Woven with the fabrics of ignorance.

The journey of life
Is from Question to Question
From agony to agony
From experience to experience
For all of them
Are the Jewels in the Crown of Quest.
- From the title poem "River, My guru"

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Original One Liner of the day..

Ventilation is part of Meditation...

Thursday, December 03, 2009

I am hidden

in my favorite pieces.

A vase

A dress

A bedsheet

Pieces of poetry

Favorite Toys...

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Bhopal, India - Dec 2, 1984

That was a dark year for India.. and i was so caught up with the riots, that the Bhopal Gas Tragedy did not register as strongly as it should have. Until i read this post - today, and realised the sheer criminal stupidity of what has happened, and has been allowed to be condoned.

In India, we believe in the Law of Karma. Stories like this explain why our bureaucrats and politicians are always rich, and never happy, or healthy..

http://www.anindianmuslim.com/2009/12/horrors-of-bhopal-gas-tragedy-1984.html