Five Rahman moments

Thanks to his Golden Globe for Slumdog Millionaire (and the possibility of an Oscar), Rahman is now the flavour of the month. While I haven’t been too impressed with much of his recent work, it made me think about his career over the years.

I heard Roja when I was in high school — to say that we were gobsmacked would be an understatement. It was like nothing any of us had heard before. But while it was new and exciting to us, there were also many who felt it was too synthesized and artificial and wouldn’t stand the test of time. Seventeen years later, it now seems fair to say that he has accomplished enough to earn his place among the greats of Indian film music.

This post is not about Rahman’s contribution to Indian film music (I may do that later), but simply a recollection of five Rahman moments that have surprised  and delighted me over the years.

1. The repeated shehnai notes in Yeh jo des hai tera (Swades). The song is nice, but what makes it unforgettable is the use of the shehnai. (Aside: Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy achieve a similar effect with bagpipes in the title tune of Salaam-e-Ishq.)
2. The use of the tanpura in Hai Rama (Rangeela). My friend Ratul brought this one to my notice. Who would’ve thought of using a tanpura to bookend a steamy song involving Urmila Matondkar and Jackie shroff prancing around in their underwear?
3. M. S. Viswanathan singing Vidai kodu engal naade (Kannathil Muthamittal). Instead of any of a dozen conventional singers, he picked a veteran composer with a voice that belied his age and got him to sing this one about leaving one’s homeland. (More on his unconventional choices for singers here.)
4. The second sax interlude in En kaadhalae (Duet). The credit for this probably goes at least partly to the director K Balachander. Nonetheless, what he accomplishes here is beautiful. Two brothers (one a singer, the other a composer and sax player) in love with the same girl, singing a song at a function where she might make an appearance. When she does, the sax player announces it with four happy notes that are the musical equivalent of jumping up excitedly, then launches into his theme for her (Anjali Anjali). But as he gets into it, he is reminded of the fact that he is estranged from his brother because they both love this girl, so he quietly segues into a sadder theme. It was so well done that I didn’t even realize until later that it was all done through a musical instrument.
5. Tu Bole Main Boloon (Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na). Exactly how often have you heard a jazz tune in Hindi film music?

Memsaab has a lovely post on her favourite Rahman numbers. Worth a dekko.

 

Your movie sucks

The title of this post refers to a compilation of Roger Ebert’s reviews of movies he hated. I wouldn’t be surprised if it sells very well.

Every once in a while, someone posts a message on this blog saying, “I’d like to read your review of Ramgopal Verma Ki Aag” or something along those lines. The implication being that a nasty review of a bad movie is a lot of fun to read.

I wish I could say something noble, such as that I don’t enjoy being an a**h*** but someone’s gotta do it. Truth is, I do enjoy writing those reviews. When I watch a movie I don’t like, I spend some of its duller moments circling the material, looking for a punchline. So sue me.

Anyway, I was wondering today about savage reviews I personally loved, and decided to list them down for your pleasure.

3. Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo: This review by Roger Ebert gave his book its name. I had the singular misfortune of seeing this movie and I could see why he didn’t like it. Incidentally, he also wrote a nice article much later, when its star Rob Schneider sent him flowers when he was recuperating from surgery.

2. The Hottie and the Nottie: This review by James Berardinelli has what is probably the best description of Paris Hilton I have read so far: professional celebrity and amateur porn star. Let’s just say the rest of the review lives up to that line. His review is so good, it makes me want to see the movie.

1. Freddie Got Fingered: Pretty much everybody hated this movie (unseen by me). The reviews were so savage, it wasn’t even funny. But the most savage review I read was this one by Ebert. The sheer venom dripping from the last line still has me speechless.

 

Unconventional voices

No, I still don’t like Himes-bhai’s voice. Although I will admit that the occasional Mika number works for me – Mauja Hi Mauja from Jab We Met being an example. This post is mostly about A. R. Rehman. Not his singing voice (which I’m not very fond of but works well for some songs), but his uncanny ability to pick the right singer for a certain song.

Rehman has had his favourites over the years — Hariharan and Sukhwindara Singh come to mind instantly. But every once in a while, he has made an inspired choice that completely transforms a number from good to great. These aren’t conventional voices, and wouldn’t work for most songs. But you cannot imagine how certain songs would sound if sung by someone else. Here are my top five picks in this category (links attached, in case you wanna lusten to them):

5. Raasaathi (Thiruda Thiruda): My favourite song in that album. Also, one of the songs that Shahul Hameed is best remembered for, other than Usilampatti pennkutti in Gentleman. Other than probably a base guitar somewhere in the background (and I’m not even sure about that), this song is a capella, with a lot of humming in the background and Shahul’s plaintive voice in the lead. (Listen here)

4. Chikubukku chikubukku rayile (Gentleman): Basically, this one makes the grade because of how it reinvents Tamil pronunciation. If someone spoke the language like that in my presence, I would have to physically restrain myself from punching his lights out, but the song… well, I can’t imagine any other way to sing it. (Listen here)

3. Lukka Chhuppi (Rang De Basanti): I love Lata Mangeshkar, okay? My dad’s an old Hindi film music buff, so I grew up listening to her. But hearing her sing Jiya Jale in Dil Se was the musical equivalent of seeing Rajni romance Deepika Padukone. Her voice sounded tired, strained, and clearly much older than the woman being depicted on screen. To me, that song is one of Rehman’s eminently forgettable choices. But Lukka Chhuppi… who else could have conveyed Waheeda Rehman’s heartbreak at losing her son so well? The opening lines are simple enough: We’ve played enough hide and seek/Now come out and show yourself. The tune isn’t exactly a sad one either. But the evident ageing of Lata’s voice and the tragedy being depicted on screen make it what it is. I don’t think there are too many instances where Lata’s voice would qualify as unconventional, but my guess is that most music directors would’ve ended up using a much younger voice here. Rehman chose well, and it made all the difference. (Listen here)

2. Veyilodu vilayaadi (Veyil): Not a Rehman number, this one. But since it is by his nephew G. V. Prakash Kumar, I guess you could say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Four singers, but the ones that stand out are Kailash Kher (who could make Happy Birthday sound soulful) and Jassi Gift (who I liked much better here than in his acclaimed Lajjavathiye). The other two sing the song like they would sing any number, but when Kailash lets rip with pasi vandha kuruvi muttai, or when Jassi goes Nandoorum nari oorum, the song simply catches fire. (Listen here)

1. Vidai kodu engal naade (Kannathil Muthamittal): The scene depicts a village of Sri Lankan Tamils being evacuated before the airforce bombs the place into oblivion. No matter what your politics, the sight a bunch of people leaving the place they had called home for so many years is, you will agree, heart-rending. The lyrics convey a sense of loss that remains with you long after the movie has ended. But what truly elavates the song is the quality of M S Viswanathan’s voice. You don’t hear finely modulated sorrow, but something raw and visceral. (Listen here)

Have I missed out any really good ones? You tell me.

 

30 going on 13, and in the wrong lane

Okay, so here’s what happened. I was channel surfing this weekend and found that my viewing choices boiled down to:

1. Die Hard 2 – The one where Bruce Willis fights off a bunch of terrorists in an airport
   
2. Lizzie McGuire – The Disney TV series, not the movie version
   

And, put your drink down before you read this otherwise you might spray it all over the place, I chose the latter.

Yeah, I know. Now you see what I mean by being in the wrong lane.

So I sat down and made a list of all those things that seem to indicate that I am turning into a thirteen year old girl. I seem to have a valid defense for each of these things, but when you add it all up, it’s kinda distressing.

And no, before you ask, I do not, do Not, do NOT like Princess Diaries. And I like the sequel even less. I think Anne Hathaway can be quite interesting in a good role, but this isn’t it.

1. Lizzie McGuire: I don’t like Hilary Duff now, but I think she did have considerable charm when she still had her baby fat. I watch the show once in a while for the same reason that I watch Full House – it’s got a Pleasantville kind of feel to it. Kinda like HAHK for TV.
2. Kelly Clarkson: I have, on occasion, sung along when her Walk Away plays on the radio. Although, in my defence, the video does involve grown men singing along with an enthusiasm that is entirely inappropriate given their age and plumbing.
3. Teen rom-coms: I only like some of them, like Say Anything or 10 Things I Hate About You. I have, however, watched a distressingly large number of them, including Pretty in Pink.

So I’m trying to figure out what I could do to act my age and gender. The best idea I’ve come up with so far is to spend an entire day alternating between watching Akira Kurosawa and surfing for porn on the Net. If you have a better suggestion, please do let me know.

ps: Telling me to just give in to the inevitable and start listening to Vanessa Anne Hudgens doesn’t count as a suggestion.

pps: And no smirking about the fact that I actually know who Vanessa Anne Hudgens is either.

ppps: Okay, so it’s 31. At my age, I’m allowed an error term or two.

 

Dead Tree, Celluloid and The Hobbes Effect

With movies that are adapted from books, you find lot of people saying: The book was better. In many cases, I’m inclined to agree. With a well-written book, our imagination creates a more interesting experience than is usually captured on celluloid. Mind you, more interesting is usually just another way of saying different. Another factor is the use of a narrative voice: an author can spend pages describing what an actor has to convey through just a look. Few actors can do that, and fewer directors and screenwriters can set the scene up up so that it works. I’m sure there are more reasons, but I’m not inclined to explore it right now. Maybe later, in another post.

So I asked myself, are there movies I’ve seen that have clearly improved upon the book? So far, I can only come up with a short list of three. In no particular order, these are:

Train to Pakistan: I read the book just before I went to watch Pamela Rooks’ adaptation. And was absolutely blown away by it. The book is quite good, but the movie manages to create a sort of visual poetry that Khushwant Singh’s prose did not, in my opinion. The scene with the dead buffaloes floating on the river still gives me the chills when I think about it.

Ice Candy Man: Bapsi Sidhwa wrote a great book centered around a little Parsi girl growing up during the Partition. The only problem was, she ended the book where the story ended factually. On the other hand, Deepa Mehta ended the movie (1947: Earth) where the story ended emotionally. When you walk out of the movie hall, the scene of Lenny’s mistake is still fresh in your mind.

The Third Man: Quite a good book by Graham Greene. The movie manages to equal it with its sardonic voice-over, the visuals of a bombed out Vienna and Orson Welles’ scene stealing performance (not to mention the cuckoo clock speech) prove to be much better. The differentiator is the ending. Graham Greene copped out when he had Anna go to Holly. Carol Reed understood that, for the story to work, she had to keep walking.

If you can think of some more, do post your comments on this.

As to the term The Hobbes Effect, one of Bill Waterson’s objections to having Calvin & Hobbes stuffed toys was that it resolved the mystique of whether or not Hobbes was really just a plaything. He said something like: “The world sees Hobbes one way, Calvin sees it differently, and I’d like to keep it that way.” You can see the analogy, I’m sure.

Ashok has a term for this sort of gratuitous phrase coinage: Jilpa.

 

After bigger game than the big game

My review of Chak De India seems to have started off a discussion on the use of a standard formula in most sports movies. Giri, Rajendran and Ratnakar are right: you watch them for the adrenaline rush. It matters not if they’re formulaic. There’s an amazing passage in The God of Small Things where Arundhati Roy speaks of Kathakali dancers. She writes at one point:

… the secret of the Great Stories is that they have no secrets… They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover’s skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won’t.

Lofty praise for a film genre, maybe, but there you have it.

Having said that, there’s a certain pleasure to be had in watching a sports movie that has other fish to fry. Whether or not the underdog wins the big game isn’t the point here – even movies where the underdog loses but gains the respect of his peers counts as a win. I’m talking about movies with a big enough non-sporting agenda that, even during the closing moments of the big game, you’re thinking of the happenings off the field. Or movies in which there is no big game – they just have a sports background, that’s all.

Here’s a short list of such movies that I’m very fond of:

5. Jerry Maguire: It does have a big game and a big finish, but it has more to do with these characters than the game. When Rod Tidwell catches the ball and gets knocked down in the closing minutes of the game, you’re not thinking of whether or not the game was won. You’re thinking of him, and you’re thinking of whether Jerry will finally wake up and smell the coffee.

4. Chennai 600028: A year in the life of a cricket team in the slums of Chennai. Given how much this nation is obsessed with the sport, it’s amazing how it avoids being caught up in the same obsession. Features a crackerjack ending that absolutely bowled me over.

3. Raging Bull: This is a boxing movie to the extent that Hamlet is a ghost story. Scorsese at his very best, telling the tale of a boxer whose jealousy and rage turn out to be his undoing.

2. Million Dollar Baby: <Note to reader: Go back to previous entry and read the Hamlet analogy again> Even when it features a lot of boxing, it is not about it. And it completely changes tracks in the third act. It does have interesting things to say about the sport, though.

1. Bull Durham: My favourite movie involving sports in any shape or form. I very much admire the entries at Nos. 2 & 3, but this one I’m much more fond of. Kevin Costner has done a number of sports movies – For the Love of the Game, Field of Dreams, Tin Cup – and they’re usually less about the sport than about the life outside it. This one would rank as the best of that lot.

Rajendran mentions a few others such as Mohun Baganer Meye which, if memory serves me right, is about an East Bengal fan falling in love with the granddaughter of a Mohun Bagan fan. I’m of the opinion that it needs to be listed alongside movies like Alaigal Oivathillai and Bombay, which tackle the issue of love across religious boundaries.

 

Superhero movies

This is a genre that has seen much activity in recent times. The Spidey movies, Chris Nolan’s reboot of the Batman franchise, all the other Marvel comics adaptations… It is also a genre I am very fond of. So here are my six favourite superhero movies:

6. Superman: Much of the credit for this movie’s charm goes to Gene Hackman’s splendid performance as Lex Luthor, and the chemistry between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder. The only real weak link is the ending, where Superman turns back time. This would’ve been a laughable idea even in H. G. Wells’ time. To do it in a movie in the second half of the twentieth century, and so crudely at that, is downright criminal.

5. Hellboy: An unlikely-looking hero, tongue-in-cheek dialogue, and a wonderful performance from Ron Perlman in the title role. Listening to him say ‘Oh, crap!” is a singular pleasure.

4. The Matrix: I know this doesn’t qualify as a superhero movie in most people’s opinion, but I think it’s a way of seeing it. Outside the Matrix, there’s little for Neo to do except fly around in a grungy-looking spaceship and try and find a private corner to indulge in some serious necking with Trinity. Inside the Matrix, he is a man who has the potential to have superpowers. The fact that all it takes is the power of the mind (“There is no spoon”) does not necessarily disqualify it from this category.

Aside: Another movie that treads a similar path in that it deals with a “mental” superpower is Alex Proyas’ Dark City. Visually, this movie is a remarkable achievement: science fiction that looks like film noir is not an easy trick to pull off. It belongs on a list of visual masterpieces, but as a superhero movie, it falls a mite short of the mark. It would’ve easily made the Top 10, though.

3. Spider-Man 2: Spidey’s superpower, when it comes to box office receipts, doesn’t come from the spider that bit him. It comes from Peter Parker. The man in the mask flying around the city is interesting because the man behind it is interesting. This is what made Spider-man such a bit hit. The sequel does one better: it keeps the human element intact, and manages to get the CGI and the action sequences right as well. Besides, Doc Ock is more effective in getting our sympathy than the Green Goblin was. Alas,the makers overdid it in the third installmentand veered into Yash Chopra territory. Pity.

2. Batman Begins: Kind of an obvious choice, don’t you think? Finally, Christopher Nolan broke away from the rubber and latex fetish that dominated Tim Burton’s Batman movies and concentrated on Bruce Wayne. Christian Bale proved to be a good Batman, and the comforting presence of veterans such as Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman and Morgan Freeman made this an immensely satisfying watch.

1. Unbreakable: This choice might surprise some. But here’s what I really liked about the movie: It regarded the superhero story from the point of view of an ordinary man. Outside of Hellboy, my other choices have also been about that. But this movie, I felt, did it best. It took its time, didn’t worry about action set-pieces, and looked inward. I didn’t think the “surprise” ending really worked as well as it did with The Sixth Sense, but I wasn’t too disappointed. The movie’s payoff wasn’t in the ending.

Since we’re on the topic of superheros, before I sign off, let me quote one of my favourite passages, from Kill Bill Vol. 2:

Bill: As you know, l’m quite keen on comic books. Especially the ones about superheroes. I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite superhero, Superman. Not a great comic book. Not particularly well-drawn. But the mythology… The mythology is not only great, it’s unique. Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there’s the superhero and there’s the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he’s Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn’t become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red “S”, that’s the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears – the glasses, the business suit – that’s the costume. That’s the costume Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent. He’s weak… he’s unsure of himself… he’s a coward. Clark Kent is Superman’s critique on the whole human race. Sorta like Beatrix Kiddo and Mrs. Tommy Plimpton.

 

Passing the musical buck

Another sub-genre of film songs that I am very fond of is – for want of a better term – the relay race song. These are songs where one singer falters somewhere in the middle for whatever reason, and someone else picks up from where he/she left off and completes it. Here’s my top three in that category:

3. Beeti na bitaye raina: Sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Bhupinder, from the movie Parichay. Jaya Bhaduri starts singing, falters, and Sanjeev Kumar steps in. Beautiful number – R. D. Burman at his very best.

2. Chinnanchiru vayathil: Sung by Janaki and K. J. Yesudas, in the movie Meendum Kokila. Sreedevi plays a young woman whom Kamal Hassan has come to “see” (a concept familiar to anyone who knows about the arranged marriage system). She is asked to sing a song, picks this one and promptly forgets the lyrics halfway through. Kamal steps in and finishes it. It’s a beautiful song, and beyond just the musical qualities it possesses, Janaki manages to bring out the girl’s shyness and embarassment, and her reaction to her husband-to-be singing the rest of the song, in a manner that very few other singers can even aspire to, let alone achieve. Okay, I admit, that wasn’t a great sentence. Aw, heck, you know what I mean.

And finally, the Numero Uno in this category:

1. Dorakuna: S. P. Balasubramaniam and Vani Jayaram, from the movie Shankarabharanam. This album was one of the big reasons why I wanted to learn Carnatic classical music when I was a kid, and this song remains my all-time favourite. J. V. Somayajulu plays a great singer who has since faded into obscurity – this is supposed to be his comeback concert. Predictably, he collapses due to ill health right in the middle, and his disciple takes over his mantle, both symbolically and literally. The moment when Vani Jayaram continues where SPB left off after a coughing fit still gives me goosebumps.

ps: Giri reminded me that a similar but quieter moment occurs earlier in the movie, when the disciple is singing Manasa Sanchara Re, falters midway, and his master continues.

 

Conversational numbers

I spend a lot of time listening to movie music. The reason for this can be condensed to two words: Marathahalli Bridge. This is a little stretch in Bangalore on my way to work where I’ve spent a significant fraction of my adult life staring at the butt of the car before me. My only respite from this experience is the music I keep playing in the car – Tamil and Hindi film music, mostly.

I listen to and love so much of it that it’s difficult to pick favourites off-hand. But a particular category that I’m quite fond of is conversational numbers – songs that involve some kind of dialogue between two or more characters. The song itself is in the form of a dialogue, and sometimes it also has actual dialogue interspersed in it. Somehow, I find these a lot more involving, and fun to listen to than the generic stuff. So here’s my list of favourites in this category:

5. Jaane Kyon Log Pyaar Karte Hain, from Dil Chaahta Hai. Composed by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy. Sung by . Picturized on Aamir Khan and Priety Zinta. Playful, romantic and cynical in equal measure. (I’m also tempted to include Pyaar mein sau uljhanein hain from Kyun… Ho Gaya Na! in this list, but it’s not a conversational number, strictly speaking.)

4. Ghum Hai Kisi Ke Pyaar Mein, from Rampur Ka Laxman. Composed by R. D. Burman. Sung by Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. Picturized on Randhir Kapoor and Rekha. This is pretty much the only sequence involving Randhir Kapoor that I can tolerate. The song is basically a vehicle for the two of them to tell each other how they feel. He goes first, but is shy and doesn’t quite come out and say who he’s talking about. She figures it’s about her, and tells him she reciprocates.

3. Poongatru Thirumbumaa, from Mudhal Mariyadhai. Composed by Ilaiyaraja. Sung by Malaysia Vasudevan and S. Janaki. Picturized on Savaji Ganesan and Radha. The man is in a dejected mood and sings, almost to himself, of his loneliness. And hears a female voice singing in response, consoling him. One of the best duets I’ve ever heard.

2. Abhi Na Jaao Chodkar, from Hum Dono. Composed by Jaidev. Sung by Mohd. Rafi and Asha Bhosle. Picturized on Dev Anand and Sadhana. One of the best looking screen pairs of all time, and a sweet, romantic song where she wants to leave and he asks her to stay. It’s a damn good song as it is, but the little touches, such as when Asha sings Yeh hi kahoge tum sada / Ke dil abhi nahin bhara, and parodies Dev Anand in that line, or when Rafi brings a touch of gentle sarcasm when he says Bura na maano baat ka / Yeh pyaar hai gila nahin… that’s what takes it from being a song to a dialogue between the lovers.

And my favourite song in this category, without doubt is…

1. Sippi Irukkudhu Muthum Irukkudhu from Varumaiyin Niram Sigappu. Composed by M. S. Viswanathan. Sung by SPB and Janaki. Picturized on Kamal Hassan and Sridevi. The song is basically a contest between the hero and the heroine – she composes a tune, and he comes up with lyrics to suit it. The exchange is playful, interesting from both a musical and lyrical standpoint, and absolutely magical.