Sallu's Dabangg performance!

Meaning: Dabang – someone who cannot be suppressed.

The story:

Dabang, set in Lal Gunj, UP, tells the story of two step-brothers Chulbul (Robin Hood) Pandey (Salman Khan) and Makhan Singh (Makki) Pandey (Arbaaz Khan). Unhappy about the treatment meted out to him by his step-father, Prajapati Pandey (Vinod Khanna), Chulbul vows to overturn things once he’s on his feet. Fast forward 21 years, and Chulbul is a corrupt UP cop with a heart of gold, his father has fallen on hard times and Chulbul has no respect for him whatsoever.

Following a bank robbery, Chulbul traces the robbers to their hideout, only to pocket the loot and let the robbers get away. Thus begins his rivalry with youth politician Chhedi Singh (Sonu Sood). In the meantime, there are two love stories to drive the plot forward. Makkhi wants to marry Nirmala (Mahi Gill), the masterji’s daughter, but his father opposes the match as he wants dowry, which her father cannot afford. Chulbul falls in love with Rajo (Sonakshi Sinha), who refuses to marry until her drunkard father is alive.

What follows are the twists and turns of the rivalry between Chulbul and Chhedi, and the simultaneous development of the love stories.

My take:

I loved the movie! Part of it was due to the crowd, which whistled and clapped at Salman’s entry, before all of the songs, and during some of the fight sequences. It just adds to the overall mood and excitement, what say?

Dabangg is a total masala movie. It works because of Salman Khan and Salman Khan and, did I say it already? Salman Khan! And no, I am not a huge Salman fan. It works because of its raw machoness. No wimpy lover boys or feeble attempts at fights. The director, Abhinav Kashyap, has copied a couple of fight stunts from such English movies and Transporter, Matrix and The Hulk, and has also given some of the sequences a humorous touch, by throwing in a little impromptu dance to a caller tune, no less!

The cinematography is excellent, capturing Uttar Pradesh in all its notoriety – dirty old shops, winding lanes. There were flashes of directorial brilliance as well, with attention paid to costumes (Dimple Kapadia’s anklets and toe rings) and mannerisms. The many songs are interspersed effectively in the plot, and each song, from Hun Hun Dabangg to the romantic Tere Mast Mast Do Nain , the drunkard’s anthem Humka Peeni Hain and the hugely popular Munni Badnaam Hui have excellent recall value.

There’s something for everyone in the movie – action, romance, comedy, drama. All in all, fultoo paisa vasool. Go watch it!

Have you seen the movie? What’s your take on it? If you have a review on your blog, feel free to leave a link to it in the comments!

(Images via http://www.dabanggthefilm.com)

Revolutionary road

I watched Revolutionary road recently, and really loved the movie. A didn’t want to watch the movie — thought the story line sounded too morose — but he was around while I was watching it on DVD, and said “Oh my! They’ve been fighting throughout the movie!”

Yes, April and Frank did fight a lot in the movie, and some of the fights were really nasty, but the movie was set in a time when women were supposed to be dutiful housewives and nothing else, and it was about a woman who wanted out of that role.

April:
Just because you’ve got me safely in this little trap, you think you can bully me into feeling whatever you want!

Why is it, I wonder, that I connect so effortlessly with neurotic women onscreen? I’m not suppresed; I have an equal marriage; but I just think that I’m really not what is called “marriage material.” I like my independance and freedom more!Continue reading

Slumdog millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire has raised the hackles of a vast section of the Indian society, with a large section of population up in arms at the portrayal of Indian slums in the movie, slamming director Danny Boyle’s realistic cinema saying “this isn’t a representation of true India.”

Well then, what is? It certainly is NOT Kiran Desai’s Inheritance of Loss. Nor is it Arvind Adiga’s White Tiger. Both of these writers have written about India for Western audiences. Desai paints first-time Indian visitors to foreign shores as poor desis who cannot wrap their heads around the biting London cold, nor use a western loo, nor adapt to their food. Her portrayal of middle class residents in India isn’t flattering either. In her world, Indians who enjoy English classical music, read English books, and enjoy continental food; whose interaction with the “slumdogs” is limited to their daily chats with their maids and watchman, are mere wannabes, who only want to ape the goras and live in a world totally detached from the realities of their poorer brethren.

Slumdog Millionaire, however, has none of those pretentions. All Indians are not portrayed as mere wannabes or totally devoid of adjustment skills. Instead, Boyle focuses on the journey of two slum children who lose their mother in the Hindu-Muslim riots that gripped Bombay. The movie then follows their trials and triumphs, as they move from one odd job to the next, escape a scheming “orphanage” owner who picks up street kids and forces them to beg, to selling odds and ends on trains, and finally landing up in Agra, where, through their fast-thinking and innocent looks, they manage to make enough money to live a comfortable life. Until, of course, they return to Bombay, where their paths diverge. One brother joins an underworld don; the other becomes an office boy at a BPO company, and through sheer luck, participates in a TV reality show Who Wants to be a Millionaire. His life, which we see in flashback through the movie, helps him answer all the questions on the show, and he walks away with a cool million bucks to his name.

In essence, it is a simple story of grit, determination and sheer luck — inspirational, actually. But the reason for it cooking up a hornet’s nest is because of Boyle’s authentic portrayal of slum life — the underbelly of India. It is this that is making us cringe.

True, there have been other Bollywood movies that have shown protagonists rising from the slum to become famous or notorious, depending on the movie —be it Satya, or Rangeela — but we didn’t protest against these movies because they didn’t become an international phenomenon. Nor did they show slums like Boyle did. Their slums were always glossed over; more fantasy than reality. And reality sure bites!

Yes, there is more to India than the Dharavi slums portrayed in Boyle’s movie. But then, Boyle did not portray Slumdog as the “definitive Indian movie.” He chose to tell an inspiring story, and he chose to make realistic cinema. And since that realistic cinema involved a rather unpleasant look at the slums, we just couldn’t digest it.

We could digest Suketu Mehta’s ‘Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found, though. His book was hailed as the best book on Bombay. And what did his book focus on? The Dharavi slums — on Hindus who burnt Muslims during the riots and the tales of both Hindus and Muslims; of how the riot changed the landscape of Dharavi, leading to a palpable divide between Hindus and Muslims; and on the life of Bombay bar girls. His visits to the slums were interspersed with visits to Hindi movie director Vidu Vinod Chopra’s house, during the time he was preparing for the shooting of Mission Kashmir. A slim section at the end was a commentary on the rich and famous giving up their riches to take sanyas. If his novel were a movie, it would be far, far more graphic than Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire.

But, there lies the irony. Mehta’s book was hailed as an exceptional piece of writing, maybe because the Pulitzer Prize and Kiriyama Prize are not as hyped, well-known and universally loved as the Oscars and Bafta in India. Boyle’s movie, though, has become a runaway hit, and what’s more, it’s sweeping of all the awards ceremonies. What this section of Indians cannot stand is the fact that the rest of the world is looking at India’s underbelly, and applauding a foreigner — a Britisher no less —- for portraying the abject poverty in which a vast majority of Indians still live, instead of catering to the middle class Indian’s concept of “India shining.”