Dev D

Dev D is the most compelling mainstream movie made in the history of Bollywood cinema. Given this outlandish claim, you know how this entry is going to pan out.

Easy things first. Dev D is a cinematographic masterpiece. The movie has an all pervading hue, which never jars, never intrudes, just vibrantly sets the mood for the drama to unfold. In darkness, the frames burst to life with a richness so deep, that you are almost disappointed when day comes along . Take a look at the scene with shadows and yellow light in which Dev and Chanda are seated after a swim in the pool. Brilliant. Note, this is not Bhansali style opulence. The settings never dominate the scenes. The best shades still belong to the actors.

The writing ranges from the mischievous to the brutally curt, but never wallows in self pity. We are not expected to sympathize with Dev. Hate ?Hmm..too extreme. Indifference? Ya...if we are generous enough not to take this senseless spoilt lout too seriously. Kya chutiya hai bey?, is the predominant emotion. As a matter of fact Kashyap does not want us to feel for any of his characters. Paro, consigned to life with a widower ; Chanda , the wronged prostitute, both seem to wear their destiny with such elan that we tend to rebuke any pity which starts within us. His sole focus is his story and the medium he uses for his narration. It is a brave decision and he gets away with it solely because of the sheer magnificence of his presentation. One of my favorite scenes in the movie is when Paro washes Dev's clothes and then lies inanimate when he tries to make love to her. It is heartless, it is cold; it is the mood of all Dev D.

Dev D is a musical claiming to have more songs than dialogues. Three songs stand out. Emosanal Atyaachar (the bass band version) is one of the most innovatively choreographed songs I have seen. The song and its dance routine almost seems to mock Dev. Pardesi is performed in a bar with three dancers who function as the quintessential observers in the second half of the movie. They watch proceedings with an amused commiserating eye. Lastly Nayan Tarse which just accentuates the brilliance of the scene already mentioned in this blog. The scene in which Paro kicks Dev's sorry ass. This movie is set up completely by its music. The dialogues merely punctuate.

The acting is competent, the narrative is crisp, the encounters among the cast is delightfully saucy and blah and blah and as we soar through the skies revelling in such great cinema, Kashyap brings us back to earth with the final thrity minutes. The movie loses its grip after Dev runs over a few people with his car. I would have ended the movie there and then. There are fates worse than dying. Dev deserves what he gets. Instead, there is an awakening in our lead, he sees the light and gets back to his girl and we are expected to smile on indulgently. Not happening, not happening in a long time. Remember Anurag, we dont feel shit for him.

But all sins forgiven, director. Dev D is one of the most important movies made in Bollywood simply because it is so utterly unapologeticly filmi. There have been greater movies in the past in our country but here is a product we can flaunt uniquely as our own. There is a rich guy and a poor girl and there are songs and there are dances and whats more, it is art at its highest. Bravo.

Obituary for the lost artist

This is more an expression of guilt than one of graititude. In a moment of spontainety neither of us expected, me and my brother ended up chatting about MJ and feeling desperately sorry for the man. I asked my brother to write a blog.

Then came the memories. For a long time western music simply meant Michael Jackson. When I was down with chicken pox, my father bought me the thriller album (MJ dressed in a white suit, sitting casually). Those were the days of cassettes remember? Fast forwarding the damn thing meant you had to get out of the bed and click the FF button. I was sick and lying in bed and hence, I listened to the whole cassette. That is a marvel which I still fail to understand. There are very few albums (apart from the "Best of..." collections) which can sustain attention for this long, even today. Then there was Dangerous, Bad; all in a Madras, which was still not cosmopolitan. Not only me. Kids all over the place. Beat it , Black or White. MJ v Prabhu Deva fights with my cousin (what was he thinking?)

Then of course, things moved on. I met Rohan; my musical tastes widened and I drifted firmly away from MJ (what delicious irony). And the stories. The skin graft operation, the child molestation. If today , the news channels report that the sun rises in the east, I will make a passionate defense of the fact that there is no such thing as a Sun. Such is the level of cynicism with which I view them. But those were the days of innocence; How can be there be smoke without a fire? All the allegations may have been true, but to dump him on the srap heap on the basis of what is printed is unfair. It would have been kinder to just respect him for his music and not judge him for the kind of person that he was. Do we stop doing science because Newton was a bastard?

The irritation at his alleged personal misdoings not withstanding, MJ just kept coming back to shock the hell out of me. 'Dirty Diana' in Manoj's comp (2005); "This is for all the lost children' in Rohan's car (2007) ; 'Stranger in moscow' , yesterday (yeah, I need to be shot).

What kind of talent can survive so easily, across continents, ages, race, what fuckin not! Whats more, I dont need to make any effort. I was telling Ashwin today that DevD, No country for old men, Departed, Ab tak Chappan and Juno are the movies over the last ten years in which I had a blast. I have seen better movies of course, but there is something special about these movies which make utterly no demand of me and still entertain. That is what MJ meant to me. Effortless entertainment.

wages cannot reach so high as to scale the skies....we seek refuge in the rails of the land...
seat of comfort, sleep of peace and food eaten with abundant ease...
The gift of solitude in a crowd of people. Verdant landscapes, a good book to read, some music in my ears and the world is at peace...
why do we abandon this for the monsters of the air.....is it the illusion of speed ?
oil, mankind's boon, does us further service...it helps us chose beauty over the beast...