Watched Slumdog M a few days after it was released. Characteristically and predictably, did not like it. But kept my mouth shut because of the fear of getting drowned amidst the gung ho attitude of Indians in general. Anil Kapoor doing bhangra at every possible public appearance – for a fifteen minutes role (give or take five minutes); Rediff News announcing Frieda Pinto as the next sex symbol (wonder where Bips/Kat/Ash/Priyanka have gone); every possible soul shouting Jai Ho, for every possible reason – dare I opened my cynic trap! The only solace about this spot is freedom of expression; it is not a popularity contest – so finally thought about scribbling a few lines.
First, comparison. For eight Oscars, the movie doesn’t come close to Ben Hur, Godfather, Schindler’s List, Titanic or Lord of the Rings. Pardon my ignorance, but these are the only few movies that I know of, that created little whirlwinds at the Academies. Even today, when they play, SM wouldn’t deserve a reserve berth seat. For an Indian movie (which it is not), Lagaan or Rang De Basanti, mildly put, are way superior. And if Lagaan is about Brit bashing, which the Jury might not have approved of, Rang De Basanti is a near epic about our internal conflict – where is an Oscar?
The storyline is about rags to riches, with a moral that anything is possible (esp winning millions), if one is street smart. If I discount the twenty million rupees that the host was so reluctant to handover, Taare Zameen Par talks about the same, across an asthetic plane of course – about self actualization, about rising up to a life-time challenge and about the triumph of achievement; about all those things that Danny Boyle could never portray. Gentlemen, where are the Oscars?
We love to say that SM is an Indian Film. Well, the director disagrees to it, as of yesterday’s Times of India. And where does that leave us? Anil Kapoor’s fifteen minutes claim to fame and an obligatory eye-sore of a bhangra, or poker-faced Dev Patel who might have done a better job sitting in front of Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, or the slums of Dharavi where (we are told through the movie that) enthusiastic kids jump into garbage for a celebrity autograph,? Like the last answer of Jamal, I'd say option D. We are riding high for the fact that like Gandhi, this is finally another movie that got recognized by the sanctified Academy – an acknowledgement of the existence of India.
The only good news is Rahman and Pookutty – and I thank the Lord for the fact that they are Indians. Even a cynic like me needs to feel good sometime.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Follow thy Leader
A group of scientists embarked on an experiment of sorts. They got a big cage constructed. It was about the size of a normal living room. In it they put a dozen monkeys. They placed a table on the center of the cage. And on the center of the table, in a bowl, they put a perfectly alluring bunch of the nicest bananas they could get from the market. With monkeys around, the bananas wouldn’t normally last for a minute – but…
Whenever any monkey made a dash for the bowl, these geniuses outside would spray full jet of cold water with fat hose pipes on the entire lot of the poor creatures. Did I tell you, it was winter, the water force was painful, and monkeys didn’t like getting wet for no reasons? Well, that’s how it was. Soon, the miserable creatures settled down wherever they could. The only luxury that they were allowed was a desperate look at the bowl on the table, from time to time.
The scientist then made a switch. They took one of the monkeys out, and put a new one in his place. The new kid, high in energy and zero in experience sprinted for the bowl the moment he got in. The rest of the gang joined hands (and legs), and beat him up. It was winter, the jet was cold and strong, and they still did not like getting wet – especially when there was no incentive involved. The new entrant settled down soon, after one more trial and a resultant session of manhandling from his brotherhood. This act repeated several times, each time there was a monkey-out-monkey-in situation. Each new monkey jumped towards the table, got beaten up by his seniors, would be left confused – and would finally resign after a few trials.
Gradually, all the first batch monkeys got replaced. The entire cage was filled with a new dozen. During the course of monkey swap, the ragging act of the existing seniors assumed ritualistic proportions. The bowl still remained and so remained the bananas - no one dared to touch it. Crucially, none of the new dozen knew about the water pipes, because the scientists had them removed immediately after the first newcomer got ragged. The whiz-kids outside took a lunch break and came back after an hour – the picture was still the same.
At the final phase, the second dozen got replaced one by one by a third dozen of apes. Notably, this time there was no fighting – even once. A new comer would come in, look at the bananas, the apprehension on everyone’s face, and being a social animal, it would flow with the crowd and find itself a place to rest. The scientists happily concluded the experiment, scribbling away on their notepads and laptops and thumping each other’s back.
Moral? It is perfectly possible for a group of animals to indulge in mindless acts – they don’t need a reason. None of the last dozen of monkeys knew why the bananas were not to be attacked. Or eaten. But they followed the tradition set by their seniors, without questioning. The first dozen were sprayed with cold water, the second dozen were mauled. But the third batch had no such adverse exposures. And yet they chose whatever they chose. J Remind you of the extremists don’t they? Don’t ask questions – obey whatever. The Talibans and the HuJI’s? Our very own Ram Sainiks? The religious fundamentalists, the cultural and moral brigades?
You bet…!
Whenever any monkey made a dash for the bowl, these geniuses outside would spray full jet of cold water with fat hose pipes on the entire lot of the poor creatures. Did I tell you, it was winter, the water force was painful, and monkeys didn’t like getting wet for no reasons? Well, that’s how it was. Soon, the miserable creatures settled down wherever they could. The only luxury that they were allowed was a desperate look at the bowl on the table, from time to time.
The scientist then made a switch. They took one of the monkeys out, and put a new one in his place. The new kid, high in energy and zero in experience sprinted for the bowl the moment he got in. The rest of the gang joined hands (and legs), and beat him up. It was winter, the jet was cold and strong, and they still did not like getting wet – especially when there was no incentive involved. The new entrant settled down soon, after one more trial and a resultant session of manhandling from his brotherhood. This act repeated several times, each time there was a monkey-out-monkey-in situation. Each new monkey jumped towards the table, got beaten up by his seniors, would be left confused – and would finally resign after a few trials.
Gradually, all the first batch monkeys got replaced. The entire cage was filled with a new dozen. During the course of monkey swap, the ragging act of the existing seniors assumed ritualistic proportions. The bowl still remained and so remained the bananas - no one dared to touch it. Crucially, none of the new dozen knew about the water pipes, because the scientists had them removed immediately after the first newcomer got ragged. The whiz-kids outside took a lunch break and came back after an hour – the picture was still the same.
At the final phase, the second dozen got replaced one by one by a third dozen of apes. Notably, this time there was no fighting – even once. A new comer would come in, look at the bananas, the apprehension on everyone’s face, and being a social animal, it would flow with the crowd and find itself a place to rest. The scientists happily concluded the experiment, scribbling away on their notepads and laptops and thumping each other’s back.
Moral? It is perfectly possible for a group of animals to indulge in mindless acts – they don’t need a reason. None of the last dozen of monkeys knew why the bananas were not to be attacked. Or eaten. But they followed the tradition set by their seniors, without questioning. The first dozen were sprayed with cold water, the second dozen were mauled. But the third batch had no such adverse exposures. And yet they chose whatever they chose. J Remind you of the extremists don’t they? Don’t ask questions – obey whatever. The Talibans and the HuJI’s? Our very own Ram Sainiks? The religious fundamentalists, the cultural and moral brigades?
You bet…!
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