Three movies, zero studying, and too much food.

December 15, 2007 at 2:27 am (crushes, eyecandy, movies) (, , , , , , , , )

I want to talk about all the movies I’ve been watching these days. Like a friend put it, “Study Holidays” is SUCH an oxymoron! It’s almost a movie a day, and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. HBO and Star Movies were my usual haunts till a few months ago. But Sony Pix, ladies and gentlemen, is fast moving up the ranks of movie-screening t.v channels, proving to be a rather nice, entertaining source of poisoning time.

So I watched this movie called Punchline today. It stars Tom Hanks and Sally Field. I think I missed the first few minutes of the movie, but hell! It didn’t matter in the end. Hanks and Field play two stand up comedians in a bar called The Gas Station. While Hanks is a failed Medical student, hoping to make it big in show-business with his talent, Field is a miserable housewife trying to manage her household while trying, almost desperately, to pursue comedy in the evenings, fueled by her belief in her ability to make people laugh(which she identifies as being a part of her past, while her husband in, one scene, a fit-of-rage refuses to believe that she can make anybody laugh).

Field or Lilah(her character’s name) tries to convince the eccentric Steven to help her with her performance. Steven(Tom Hanks), preoccupied with his own problems of making ends meet and dealing with his complexes, snubs her initially, but later decides to take her along on one of his gigs and they go on to strike a friendship. If you watch the movie, don’t miss the scene in which he performs at a hospital. Very touching.

When it is Steven’s big night, he is told that talent scouts are sitting in the audience to evaluate his performance, and could possibly give him a chance to host his own show on television, promising subsequent stardom, Steven lets his complexes and his insecurities get the better of him, performing disastrously.

Lilah has her own miseries, with her husband having had enough of her nonchalance to their two children and their home, out of favoring her interest in comedy. He confronts her on her sloppy management of affairs. Flustered, she leaves home in a cab and meets the battered, saddened Steven. They talk and then comes, what I believe is, one of the better sequences of the movie. Steven takes Lilah to another live-act bar and eggs her on to the stage where, driven by Steve’s encouragement, Lilah performs remarkably.

The rest of the movie is about Steven and Lilah’s complex relationship, and the final test of their dreams, hopes and love(s).

I really liked the movie(Not that I can Not like too many movies, but) save the whole idea of a young Steve falling in love and pursuing the middle-aged Lilah. This,I felt, let the movie down. For what could have been a refreshing film, sorta went down the same alley by introducing a somewhat illogical, unnecessary “love-angle” between its lead characters.

An interesting movie, nonetheless. I like Sally Field for, besides all the usual stuff, a really funny movie she did, called Soapdish that I watched eons ago. I hardly remember what the movie was about, but for the bit about it being a parody of Soap operas. And yea, watch Punchline for a visibly young Tom Hanks, who in this movie, more than anything adds punch to my theory that Aamir Khan(who, although a decent actor himself) apes Tom Hanks, at least as far as facial expressions and contortions go. ๐Ÿ˜€

The other movie I am dying to talk about is Aaja Nachle.

Not much to say, actually. The reviews were right. The movie does injustice to a lot of people and things; at the fore being The Legend That Is Madhuri Dixit, The Yashraj banner(which has one of the best reputations as far as Masaledar entertainers go) and the immense reach Dance, as a tool-in the movies has, to ensure lasting impressions and universal success!

So yes, it is the story of Diya Srivastav who returns from New York to revive the fading glory of a theater called Ajanta in the town of Shamli. The director has meant the story to capture the challenges she faces on returning: From dealing with her not-so-nice reputation, having rebelled for love, the haughty prince MP(played by the ever-so-charming and suave Akshaye Khanna, one another guy I have the Absolute-est hots for) who plans to approve razing Ajanta down for a new shopping mall, to people’s disinterest in acting in a musical, and the wily businessman played by Irrfan Khan. It is obvious that the creative heads have attempted to etch characters that, with their quirks and other lovable, bollywoodish traits, can appeal to people, but the script leaves the task half way. Then there are Kunal Kapoor(SUPER CUTE. Girls, take notice!) playing the local gunda(I found his dhakke and gaalis really really funny AND cute) and Konkona Sen(rather convincing in her tomboy avtaar; plus looking good post-makeover). Ranvir Shorey and Vinay Pathak, who I really like, have little to do, but pull off a decent job anyway. Jugal Hansraj, Divya Dutta, Raghubir Yadav are also in the movie, but have miniscule roles.

Madame Madhuri is above critique of any sort. Aaja Nachle has nothing to harp about. If one wishes to watch it, one must do so only for Madhuri. You might also enjoy the final sequence of the musical which is sorta well shot. Just don’t stop and think about the technicalties. Kunal kapoor is eye-candy. Akshaye Khanna is too. For me. If all politicians were like him. Sigh! India wouldn’t be in the rut she is currently in. ๐Ÿ˜‰

The last film I watched was called Riding In Cars With Boys. It stars Drew Barrymore and Brittany Murphy amongst others. This is supposedly based on the true story of Beverly D’Onofronio, who in an unfortunate turn of events gets pregnant at age 15. Her aspirations, and hence her life is turned upside down, making her put her dreams of going to college on the backburner. She, having dreams of becoming a writer, has to now concentrate on more pressing issues like her marriage to the not-so-normal Ray, who is caught in social-miseries of his own. Most of the story is shown in flashbacks, as seen by an older Beverley and her grown-up son Jason.

What struck me about the movie, was how the consequences of one incident can change lives so drastically.

There is this scene, where Jason accuses Bev of being a sloppy mother.

Beverley- “All that I’ve gone through to keep you in one piece…!”

Jason- “What makes you think I’m one piece?”

The grim, yet amusing, side to all this is that it is nobody’s fault, in entirety, that their lives are so complex, but that doesn’t help anybody! It is a rather nice look at the adverse, yet normal, sometimes funny circumstances of these people’s lives through the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. Teen pregnancy, dreams, Drugs, friendship, parenting, strength- It has a take(sometimes stereotypical) on everything. Nice watch.

One another thing that has been running on my mind, was a line from one of the promos of Hollow Man:

“You know what, Matt? It’s amazing what you can do… when you don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror any more. ”

I wasn’t even paying attention when this came on T.V. in an ad break. I froze when it hit my ears. That line is sheer brilliance for the sorta connotations it holds. Do think about how true that statement is, on a higher an alternate plane. This blog is a case in point. I will leave, with that thought. Bonne Nuit.

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Crying without tears

December 15, 2007 at 1:08 am (love, night, nostalgia, sadness) (, , )

Sitting here, like this, with a mind that screams silently and with a lump in my throat and eyes waiting to burst into song, wanting to reminisce about what has passed, about that which will never return; wanting to cry like a child, while a cynical, weathered old soul somewhere inside cackles at the irony of ruing over the past, I have nothing to write. Nothing, but the need, and the desire to express what I can barely word.

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There is guilt, there is pain, and there is a bigger question staring at me and asking me if I have the right at all, to grieve over something that I did nothing to help. It is somebody I love, somebody I loved a lot. Did I understand this love too late? What stopped me from saying this when time was still merciful?

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There was this someone that probably spent a life deprived of a childhood, love, happiness, while trying to spread it all around. The last few hugs are still fresh in my mind. It was the arms of someone who had, once, been a very strong person. Weak, soft and humbled, they were, after the fall. The last was the most painful. Cold, emotion-less, stiff. Whatever failed to convince you of the truth, this last hug was enough to convey the bleakness of finality. For someone that could never feel what all others seemed to feel, that was a rude jolt. It still makes me shiver.

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Even a mention is enough to get me crying these days. Deep inside, I know that it is only because I am unhappy in life, that the unpleasant past has such a piercing effect. Acknowledging this makes me all the more disgusted with myself. I really want to stop feeling bad, about what has happened, and about Me.

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Self-pity doesnโ€™t even work anymore. Not in the usual sense. Would that really make things better? I know that today is better than this day, a year ago. At least, here lies the power to change. What is missing, if anything, is the spirit. Maybe a fight is waiting, in the wings. The Fight needs to happen. Now.

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Everything turns magical once it is the past. That is alternately the most awe-inspiring and repulsive thing about the mechanism of reality.

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Help Me God. And forgive me A for not being what you had needed. I pray for your happiness. Give me faith.

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Let there be light. Alas! It dispersed.

December 8, 2007 at 6:23 pm (bitchery, night, sadness) (, , )

Why? Really?

This! I mean all this (the author looks up dramatically and points at all that’s around her) is a necessity.

Till now, I had neither the inclination to, nor the belief in sitting down and writing about my life, it’s ills, how it kills, or about resorting to pills.

But now, trust me, it has become necessary. So please, forgive me for indulging in what I believed till now to be borderline sin: Ego-writing (Is that a term, yet?).

I had nothing but contempt for people that took out time to write about their cats,their silly love-lives, what they had for breakfast and their disoriented sexual orientations; till now that is. Now it’s alright. By the way, have I told you about my cat? I call him Burberry. He’s a cool cat(damn! That’s something I’ve never managed to be!).

I look outside the window. This city is f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g cold. So is everybody around me. There’s A that can’t be bothered even if I proceeded to kill myself, in her presence. Or B that would plan to stop me but she’d get busy half way through and proceed to execute her other, obviously more-important plans.

Man, I’m feeling better already. Did I tell you why this blog was created in the first place?No? Okay, so I will, now: Nothing fancy. This is an experiment in refuge. Refuge in bitchery, refuge in bitterness, refuge in vocal profanity of the written sort ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€ . Above all, an experiment to find out if snubbed thoughts are what made me so miserable these hellish two years.

For once, I don’t want to be politically correct; not any more. Fuck the world. Oh boy! Being something-teen(or just off, if you want the truth), in an ideal world, that would be a bit of a catchphrase paralleling hey-how-are-you-doing in my holy life. But no! I can’t recollect even a single instance of me saying That, in a long, long ,long time. Now you know what the matter is, don’t you? Yes. I am your run-of-the-mill loser, marinating in anonymity hoping to feel better, this way, cussing and swearing around.

But No, this is not me. This is another person within me, someone I’ve constantly pushed around and silenced. A comatose, dying animal that can be revived only with some good ol’ TLC. Wake up! the angelic Bitch in me, and conquer the night that is, but yours! This is giving me a nice soaring kick already!

Why a reversed rainbow? It sounds deep, no? You don’t think so? I say so. That’s enough said. Consider that your first clue, gentle reader.

I have little else to stay. A blog deserves an introductory post and here it is. Hmm. It isn’t long enough. I need to say something deep and meaningful. Okay,

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, errr….

wait.

I’ve flipped.

Alright: my shiny new blog, this one’s for you.

Stranger than your sympathy
And this is my apology
I killed myself from the inside out
And all my fears have pushed you out

(and I proceed onto the chilly night as the song plays on)

See you another night, friend.

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