A Love Letter to Goa

‘Finding Fanny’ is, if nothing else, is a love letter to Goa. The languid raw beauty of the land coupled with distinctive culture has been captured with unfailing affection. Story or plot was just a flimsy excuse for bringing out the archetypal Goan characters. Socially active Rosy, good girl Angelina, Don Pedro, irritable Savio and Ferdie.

 Naseer is easily the highlight of the Movie. After long time,I found him worthy of his reputation. Woolly headed Ferdie has been realized to the last hair. He is very credible as a lost lonely person who has enough quirks to make few good souls care for him. Naseeruddin Shah maintained that low apologetic pitch, which would have been irritating in less accomplished person but with the thespian defines the diffident but committed human being. Dimple stayed with the character bravely and avoided the caricature despite having to act with broad strokes. Her vanity and vulnerability is clearly communicated without compromising the complexity of her situation. She played being old with aplomb. Young couple was sweet and fit in the roles with ease. Dipika exuded sweetness and was suitably good at being good natured and sassy. Arjun Kapoor was to bring confused adolescent longing to his part which he shouldered competently. Only my favorite Pankaj Kapoor struggled to break in the party. He brought his presence to the role but could not create a memorable character. While he portrayed artists anguish for regaining inspiration, he failed to give the artist a home. He was rarely Goan and looked least rooted in his surroundings. Instead of attempting a Picasso,  he would have been better of as Manjeet Bawa on a break in Goa. Still, him being Pankaj Kapoor, he is never less than entertaining.

Apart from locales and performances, film does not impact as it should with its strengths.  Reason for this may be that this was neither a road movie, nor a love story. It set out to convey a slice of Goa which it did admirable and this success was both its success and limitation.

Doctor Who Season 8 Episode 1. Delicious Chaos Continues

Starting Doctor Who from Season 8 was a difficult decision as there was an apprehension of feeling outsider in an already warm party. The show has a cult following and tend to evoke strong response. All this made casual walking in feel like committing blasphemy. But my nonchalance towards a very strong tradition paid off and I am happy to report that the delicious chaos of the show makes it amply rewarding irrespective of the stop from where you hitch the ride.

First impression of the rank outsider is the feeling that a wildly permissive premise provides myriad opportunities for a very rich template. This pleasure is augmented by very high production values and superb performances. Props like time traveling devices, pen like instruments that look for their purpose and become whatever is need of the hour create a story that is limited only by imagination, which is by no means scarce here. This results in a veritable riot of stupendously fantastic situations which may stretch dry credulity but are loads of fun.

A funny streak with all the philosophical undercurrents is perhaps the main attractions of this show. Inherently playful, the first episode of the new season kept many amusing moments specially the arrival of the new Doctor (Peter Capaldi)  and chemistry between him and Clara (Jenna Coleman) on the one hand and lesbian couple one of which is a lizard is simply delicious.  Lumbering man servant, and gawking London crowd for a T-Rex over the Westminster crowd along with mandatory struggling inspector kept the fun crackling.

Sudden punctuation of horror was invariably chilling. The robot resorting to organ harvesting  to fulfill its aspiration to be human raised hair at all suitable places. Moment when Clara was left in the chamber of dead was horrifying for a newbie who wasn't so sure of good Doctors success rate. This intermixing of  playfulness with full weight of horror has been accomplished with admirable panache in the new Season.

Any series with a concept of regeneration and time travel, deep philosophical questions are bound to arise. Peter Capaldi’s new Doctor is  spry but gray gentleman that leads to lot of soul searching on the part of his travel mate Clara. The first episode manages to make driving the point about connection between core and outer appearance reasonably entertaining. But Doctor has to verbalize that he is not her boyfriend and has to take help of the earlier version of Doctor Who (Matt Smith) to keep her sufficiently invested him.

The show is great. It entertains in a very satisfactory way. The depth of its quality goes beyond the outlandish premise and all the razzmatazz that goes into realizing that premise. The greatness lies, as with all great stories (Harry Potter comes to mind), in establishing connect with the very basic and all pervading human situations of love, longing, trust, friendship and adventure. In its latest season Doctor Who performs very successfully.

Review of Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl- Banality of evil makes it commonplace

The novel scores as a very contemporary  depiction of the dynamics of  relationships in modern world. Gone Girl may have a very sick relationship as it's centerpiece but Ms Flynn manages to strike a universal note with these demented characters. Finding echo of everyday turmoils and conflicts in such a diseased milieu is hugely disconcerting. This novel may put off quite a few readers as Gillian Flynn makes us inhabit these twisted minds in a dizzying tandem of  chapters made intimate by first person voice. The reader may feel alarmed by easy identification with many aspects of thinking of the sociopaths. For example, Amy's grouse with the concept of 'cool girl' May find many nodding in agreement when she writes""Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl."  or when Nick waxes eloquent about his lack of control over what image he is projecting    "People love talking, and I have never been a huge talker. I carry on an inner monologue, but the words often don't reach my lips.” Banality of evil makes is easy to find startling resemblance in most mundane of the moments.

Gillian Flynn demonstrates  a dexterous hand at psychological profiling and characters remain at the desired degree of likability-under full command of the author. She can make the reader fall in love with character in one chapter and create intense hatred in the next. Furthermore, she can go nuanced and successfully conveys the machination deployed by the character to be likable or despicable. She also benefits from the useful gift of keeping many plot balls in the air while keeping the reader clued in with the basic tension of the story. All this with tight accessible prose and painterly depiction. She creates word pictures that conveys with dazzling clarity the basic point of the author about a very complex feeling. 

Review of The Wolf of Wall Street: Oscar Worthy Stripper Stampede

Watching a Scorsese movie always lends itself to pleasurable memories. Wolf of the Wall Street starts with DiCaprio's character moving into his lair (in this case his stock broking firm) reminding Scorsese lovers of Mean Street’s entry of Harvey Keitel where camera follows him as he glides through his club milking presumed and real applause. Music, adoration and sense of entitlement of the recipient of all the attention creates an alchemy which makes the viewer smile with amusement and concentrate in awe at the same time. Similarly, the film has marching bands and ‘stripper stampede’ to entertain the employees. Here we see the continuation of a hallowed tradition started by one Charles Foster Kane in 1941 ‘Citizen Kane’ to enthuse his newspaper staff.

Many critics have found funny tone of Wolf of the Wall Street a novelty in Scorsese movie.  The auteur has been grittily funny throughout his distinguished career. Anyone who has followed Scorsese in Mean Street, Casino, After Hours and, somewhat atypical, Hugo will feel sufficiently Scorseseque in the funny moments that  Wolf of the Wall Street creates. One can’t suppress a smile on  the memory of Harvey Keitel, De Niro and friends discussing the meaning of ‘mook’ before getting into cat fight that was to be broken by cops and end in round of drinks among the participants. Here also we find many moments of this humorous cacophony.

Dizzying breezy sequences with showy editing that create a tempo leading to bravura crescendo are old Scorsese trademarks. His characters are great at verbosity (barring tongue tied Taxi Driver). Speeches are bombastic with rustic bravado – quite unlike Woody Allen’s talkathons of confused intellectuality. Though both, I must admit, have their own pleasures. The enjoyable momentum created by oration on benefits of drugs, debauchery and greed among the Decaprio’s charater and his thuggish associates led by madcap Jonah Hill are in the same league as you would find in Casino, Good Fellas and, again, in Mean Street. I find many similarities in mediation on qualuudes and the Butcher explaining the ways of stabbing pig in Gangs of New York.  Both take the story or the experience of the movie forward.

Trajectory of rise of a small time pusher to obscene level of success replete with mind numbing excesses and eventual downfall is an almost as established as a sub genre.  This is the basic cliché of the Wolf of Wall Street too. What is different this time is that Scorsese stayed away from the business of providing full closure. He kept the perspective resolutely neutral and kept the camera in voyeur mode.  Even the excess was not meant to caricature or demean a life style. He is more concerned with conveying the unbridled joy of the excess. He transfers the high notes of carnivalsque debauchery in full measure without making a parody of it- quite a feat.

This is film-making which is self consciously high strung –energy, tension and joy communicated in clearest possible notes. Clarity dazzles but grabs you to notice the effort and genius that has gone into the spectacle.  Scorsese is loved for his flourishes, he is worshipped for sustaining those flourishes with impeccable film making.

Review of The Cuckoo's Calling

The Cuckoo's Calling by J. K. Rowling/"Robert Galbraith” is a good read. This has a good plot, great atmospherics and fluid grace of tightly constructed prose. It is a quick read to too, from the point of view of  accessibility and flow. I felt fine after spending my weekend chunks with it.

Story is about death of supermodel with an interesting family background. Our Private Dick comes in three months after the event in a scenario where the case has been declared as suicide. In a classical detective genre scheme, the detective has been given enough quirks and  an eager though bright secretary. The investigation proceeds through various stages towards gradual clarity and a reasonably satisfying climax. 

Rowling is a great story-teller and creates a compelling yarn. She creates good scene with interesting details. Her description of alleys and ultra-rich homes is detailed and lends the story an air of believability. The chapter where Cormoran Strike, our detective, interviews the designer Guy Some is replete with fascinating  details and eccentricities of the fashion world. 

I think, character of Cormoran Strike will take one or two more installments to get its full flowering as a comprehensively itched character. He has all the ingredients-Questionable but interesting pedigree (illegitimate son of a major rockstar), physical deformity (one leg blown off in Afghanistan) and troubled family life. This crumpled genius is staple of many characters of the genre. Where Rowling lacks is establishing the genius of the detective. He rarely comes out with gems of deduction. These character need a bit of flamboyance of when they start dazzling with their brain power along with the hubris of cramped gloom that they carry.  Strike here is thorough and delivers the goods but appears more diligent then genius. 

Over-all as I said in the beginning. A goodread.

Review of Blacklist TV Series

Watched and liked 'Blacklist' as it is a taut well paced TV show in the thriller genre. I am a sucker for action, drama and adrenaline rush of such offerings. The show starts with the surrender of Raymond 'Red' Reddington (James Spader) a criminal who figures very high on the pantheon of the FBI's Most Wanted list. He negotiates an immunity deal and promises to help FBI catch A listers on his blacklist. He intriguingly works only with Agent Elizabeth Keen (Megan Boone). Episodes move with great speed and keep us engrossed by deploying all the tropes- recurring mystery about Elizabeth’s husband, lingering speculation about the nature of relationship between Elizabeth and Reddington and above all Reddington’s resourcefulness in helping FBI catching the dreaded criminals. 

This consultant-law enforcement drama is a well established category on television. Mentalist and  Castle come to mind. Chemistry between the core duo and consultant’s dramatic value edition in resolving difficult situations makes this category   who is able to convince us of his status as a master criminal and his ability to convey menace and capability without being overly dramatic.

very interesting. Despite being in the crowded space, Blacklist manages to grip due to its high production value and controlled performance by James Spader

The show losses out on developing interesting side characters except may be Tom Keen (Ryan Eggold)-the suspected husband or Reddington’s bodyguard Dembe (Hisham Tawfiq). Over all a pretty watchable fare if you like that sort of thing.

Primal pleasure of your own language.

Just read Picture Postcards by Nirmal Verma. A short story set in Delhi but distinctly from a period when the city was much more manageable and higher education was more leisurely and somewhat posher than practical vengeance that we call degrees now a days. It picks up a day from the life of 3 male seniors who are meeting 2 girls one of whom is leaving Delhi may be for good. Setting is, as I wrote earlier, is Delhi from Connaught Place to Delhi University. Story captures the unformed, uncertain intensity of the cusp between college and career. But first and above all, for me, it is a Hindi story.
 
After so many years of 'English Medium' existence, foundation of mother tongue asserts effortlessly and I find it easier to catch and absorb the depiction in its intended nuances. Pleasure is more raw and on occasions, as happened with this story' more primal. Connect with the text is smooth and deeper. I wish that this happens with English too which is my primary 'working language'. On a different plane while the consumption of Hindi products is smoother, creation in the language is often a problem. May be this has to do with the timing of exposure. Immersion in Hindi came early till the age of seventeen to be interrupted by 'English medium'. Conscious creation it seems is a later development. Still poetry can be approached and created exclusively in Hindi.