Once Upon a Time In America: Forget the spaghetti westerns for which Sergio Leone is famous. This (along with his Once Upon a Time in the West - see below) is his masterpiece. A big flop when it was first released as the studio had chopped up the film into an incoherent mess the film’s reputation was restored when the original director’s cut was subsequently released. It is a slow but beautiful film underscored by the haunting score of Morricone that deals with the consequences of memory, betrayal, loyalty and loss. Finely nuanced performances by De Niro and James Woods add to the moody nostalgia of the film. The city of New York in which the film is set in is in itself a major character of the film whose growth and problems mirror those of the film’s characters. If you like Leone’s Westerns then do not miss this. Also marks the debut of the luminous Jennifer Connelly.

Once Upon a Time in the West: As mentioned above another of the masterpieces directed by Leone. An epic western starring Henry Fonda, Charles Bronson and Jason Robards it forms the beginning of a loose trilogy which ended with the above film. Featuring yet another masterful and melodic score by Morricone this film like the one above slowly grows on you with each passing minute. It examines at leisure with slow tracking shots that lack much dialog life on the edge of civilization and the choices men make in those circumstances. The painstakingly choreographed gun fights are a sight to watch even if they are over in a flash.

Diarios de Motocicleta (The Motorcycle Diaries): A moving and inspiring film about the epic journey made by Che Guevara and his friend on a motorcycle across South America and how the journey played a major role in the awakening of political consciousness in the young medical student.

The Conversation: In some ways this is the best film made by Coppola. More intimate than his Godfather and Vietnam War epics this little film about a quiet and intensely private man who spies on other people works on so many levels. Suffused with an intense sense of paranoia in keeping with the subject matter of the film and the conspiracy riddled time it was released in (just after the Watergate scandal broke) the film is still hugely relevant today with its themes of erosion of privacy with increasing technology and personal responsibility. Gene Hackman is pitch perfect as the audio surveillance expert.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest: One of my favorite films. Milos Forman stayed mostly true to Kesey’s novel and in the process crafted a fine jewel about non-conformism and its effect on rigid authority. The film works because of some excellent performances by the lead actors. Jack Nicholson and Louise Fletcher deserved their Oscars for the roles of McMurphy and Nurse Ratched, which they made their own so well that you cannot imagine anyone else in their roles.

La Battaglia di Algeri (The Battle of Algiers): A landmark film based on the Algerian War against French rule that has been highly influential. Gillo Pontecorvo’s fiercely independent film refuses to take sides and in that process exposes the cruelty that both sides resorted to in the name of freedom and colonization. The film’s semi-documentary style lends it an authenticity and rawness that very few films dealing with a historical topic manage to achieve.

Solyaris (Solaris): Often termed as the Russian answer to Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey this Tarkovsky film is a masterpiece in its own right. Based on a novella by the Czech writer Stanislaw Lem the film is an exploration of the hubris of man and his overconfident dependence on science and technology as the answer to everything even when it utterly fails when confronted with an alien intelligence. Deliberately paced and at times irritatingly slow (the car driving sequence) this is not a typical science fiction film as there are no epic space battles or spectacular spaceships to feast your eyes on. On the contrary the film is a psychologically intense examination of man and the alienating effects technology and space exploration has on him as well as the resulting loneliness. (The film was recently remade by Steven Soderbergh as Solaris with George Clooney in the lead which although better than most Hollywood science fiction and featuring an intensely moody score still falls short of Tarkovsky’s version).

Earth: The second part in Deepa Mehta’s elemental trilogy is based on Bapsi Sidhwa’s novel Ice Candy Man (later published as Cracking India). Set during the turbulent times of India’s partition and the subsequent Hindu-Muslim riots that engulfed many parts of India as seen through the eyes of a young Parsi girl. A fine film if a little rough around the edges. It somehow lacks the edge that Fire, the first part of the trilogy, had even though it deals with a horrific period in India’s history. The somewhat tepid nature of the film is redeemed by the intense performance of Aamir Khan.

Baise Moi (Fuck Me): A highly controversial film, co-directed by a former pornographic actress and a former massage parlor employee turned writer, that was banned in many countries upon initial release. It divided Western media over whether the film was blatantly exploitative or had a genuine point to make. The film is highly graphic in its depiction of sex and violence and most of the actors come from a pornographic background. In spite of its often exploitative nature the film I felt had a point in its depiction of two women who after being exposed to the brutality of men and society embark upon a killing spree. Shot on grainy digital video using available light the film seems more like an amateurish porn video than an actual film but the look of the film somehow suits its subject matter very well. While it is debatable whether their actions are justified or not one should at least commend the directors for offering an unflinching view of the ghettoized nature of modern French society in all its stark hypocrisy. But it never comes close to the masterful restraint and finesse shown by La Haine which dealt with some of the same issues although from a more obviously masculine perspective.

The Shawshank Redemption: Another of my favorite films, Frank Darabont’s almost perfect adaptation of Stephen King’s novella is a modern masterpiece. It is a film that revels in the simple joy of telling a good story. Criminally ignored upon its initial release this film has developed a huge fan following after its DVD release and rightly so. It even managed to creep up to the #2 position in IMDB’s list of top 250 films of all time. A simple, warm and touching story set in an American prison the film is above all about one man’s hope. A hope that he will never let die. Morgan Freeman is simply brilliant and disappears into his character with his warm voice overs (that actually started an irritating trend for using his voice for narration in many other films) and gentle smile. This is a film you will keep coming back to over and over again and in the process find something new to like every time.

Here is another round of word cinema goodness:

12 Monkeys: Terry Gilliam has always been very good when it comes to dealing with dystopian futures (Brazil anyone?). And this film is another prime example. A mind bending exercise in alternate pasts and grim reality. This is what happens when a present collides with a meddlesome future. Brad Pitt needs to be singled out for his delightful but edgy performance.

2001: A Space Odyssey : A stoner paradise for many but behind that spacey, chilled out vibe is the quietly effective brilliance of Kubrick. From the scientifically accurate special effects, minimalist set design and vague dialog to the brilliant marriage of music and motion Kubrick shows why he is one of the best directors of all time. This is how science fiction should be. And that sequence of docking spaceships set to Strauss’s Blue Danube? So delicate, so graceful and oh so beautiful. Go watch it please.

21 Grams: Stark, hard hitting and sad. Inarritu’s use of non linear narrative continues with this film from where he left off in Amores Perros. Naomi Watts is the pick of a talented ensemble cast.

Almost Famous: An ode to all that was good about rock music before it got lost in self-indulgence and soulless stadium rock. This film is about the fallibility of rock musicians seen through the eyes of a wide eyed rock fan. Based on Crowe’s own experiences as a writer for Rolling Stone and touring with rock bands. Essential viewing for anyone with a passing interest in rock music.

American Psycho: Less disturbing than the book but still quite effective as a window into the vacuous greed of the yuppie culture in the late 80s and early 90s. Christian Bale gets into the skin of the character and behind his glassy persona you glimpse the other side of the American dream and it is scary for the depth of its emptiness.

Battle Royale: Fukasaku offers this inventive but violent vision of the future. What if troublesome and rebellious school kids were packed off to an island and given lethal weapons with license to kill? Would that solve society’s problems and the travails of parents? See the film to know the answer.

Battleship Potemkin: A masterpiece in every sense of the word. I’d see this film again and again just for that famous Odessa steps sequence. Makes it hard to believe that the film was made way back in 1925.

Zodiac: Fincher’s return to form. A dark and edgy thriller dealing with a true story about a serial killer who was never caught. Fincher’s films always have this distinctive look and this is no different. The muted, slightly desaturated cinematography is highly effective in creating a confined world where danger seems to lurk around the corner. Jake Gyllenhaal is surprisingly effective as the reporter who is not willing to give up.

Training Day: Mainly known as the film that finally netted Denzel Washington his best actor Oscar. But beyond that the film is a disturbing exploration of the corruption that power unleashes. Apart from Washington’s bravura (but slightly over the top) performance watch out for Ethan Hawke’s sensitive portrayal of a rookie cop.

Y Tu Mama Tambien: Sexy and funny. This film about the road trip of two hormonal young men and a woman seeking to escape her troubled marriage explores in seemingly casual fashion deeper topics such as relationships, jealousy and the meaning of friendship. This is a road film with a difference.

Dalkomhan Insaeng (A Bittersweet Life): Kim Ji-Woon’s moody and stylistic meditation on loyalty and love. Gorgeously shot night sequences mingle uneasily with graphic violence but it all serves to bring to the fore the distance to which a man will go to keep true love.

Mala Educasion (Bad Education): Almodovar’s partly autobiographical look at the diverging lives of two school friends and their shared past. Garcia Bernal is as always brilliant in his multi-faceted role. Memory, friendship and cinema come under the scanner in Almodovar’s noirish universe.

Short Cuts: In many ways the film that jump started the trend for multi-character narrative dramas like Magnolia, Crash etc. Based on Raymond Carver’s minimalist short stories, Altman gives us unique fly on the wall views into an assorted bunch of Californian characters whose lives are interwoven in more ways than one. When so many characters are handled with such ease without letting the film run aground you know that this could only have been made by a master film maker.

Tron: A dated but still amusing film about out of control video games. That unique 80s feel clearly comes across in the special effects and music but the film is worth a watch for the weird video world it takes us into.

The Cell: A flawed but intensely surreal film. This is a journey into the twisted universe of a psychotic mind. Every step in that world is an exploration of the surreal with out of the world stunning visuals. Tarsem Singh’s experience in making music videos shows in his sleek cinematography and vivid colors. Some scenes are like paintings out of Dali’s universe. And for once Jennifer Lopez is bearable.

[-] Show Less

To paraphrase a soft drink ad from the past, I eat, drink and sleep world cinema. It is one of the few things that keeps me from going mad from the endless tedium of research. I usually have my favorite films running in the background even if I’m doing something else. And come weekends I love to curl up on my couch and lose myself in film after film from around the world. So as you can imagine I’ve seen a LOT of films, especially in the past four years. And every time I see a film I think about posting a detailed review here but as usual my laziness trips my good intentions. So instead I’ve decided to come up with short blurbs for some of the remarkable films I’ve seen, enjoyed, loved and even disliked. So without further ado here is the first part in what will hopefully be a regular series:

1. Apocalypse Now Redux: A difficult film both in terms of production as well as viewing but it is worth all the trouble. One of Coppola’s best with Brando’s brooding presence adding to the other worldly atmosphere of the second half. War is indeed the preserve of psychotics. And seminal use of music, be it 60s rock and roll or Wagner. Look for the Redux version.

2. Full Metal Jacket: Another Vietnam War film but with the distinctive touch of Kubrick. The boot camp sequence is still one of the most intense cinematic moments I’ve seen on film. Kubrick extracts superlative performances from lesser known faces and captures the pointlessness and dark comedy of the Vietnam War perfectly.

3. Amadeus: F. Murray Abraham. Watch it for him. And the music. And the period detail. Enough said.

4. Frida: Hayek excels but the film suffers. All biographies are not equal.

5. Lost Highway: The twisted universe of Lynch. Anything and everything is possible. From surveillance video tapes to meetings with weird people in the desert. Will you be able to unravel the madness?

6. Mulholland Drive: Another Lynch masterpiece. And the hottest woman-woman love scene I’ve ever seen on film. That scene alone is worth the price of rental but the rest of the film is a tour de force of deception, betrayal and the cut throat hunger for fame.

7. Three Days of the Condor: Pollack at his finest. 70s paranoia translated brilliantly onto the screen. The enigmatic but very sexy Dunaway and quietly dashing Redford perform well.

8. Elephant: Gus Van Sant’s sensitive exploration of the Columbine massacre. A chilling tale set in the world of seemingly normal school kids but madness is waiting to be unleashed.

9. Paris, Texas: Wim Wenders sometimes takes too long to get to the point but even then a brilliant film about love and loss set in Paris. No, not that one. The other Paris.

10. Miller’s Crossing: The Coen brothers are in fine form here. A brilliant film noir with really nice cinematography and strong story telling. The cast also shines.

11. Picnic at Hanging Rock: A breakthrough film for Australian cinema as a whole. Weir’s film is enigmatic, surreal and intensely moody. Leaves a lasting impression.

12. Silkwood: Based on a true story. Streep deserved an Oscar for her superb portrayal of a nuclear industry whistle blower.

13. The Hours: Superb screenplay and brilliant acting by three very talented women at the peak of their powers.

14. The Color Purple: Whoopi and Oprah excel in this film based on Walker’s celebrated novel. One of Spielberg’s more serious films.

15. A Fish Called Wanda: British humor at its best. More accessible than the Python films featuring many of the Python regulars. If you like black comedies then do not miss this.

This is the age of mega-corporations. Corporations richer than some countries, wielding enormous influence over our world. With their power they can and do shape policies that affect our environment and in the end the way our societies function. How did these corporations become so powerful? Why are so many people protesting their rising clout if, as many often claim, they create jobs, increase transparency, efficiency and generate more wealth for a region? Why are corporations caught in the middle of so many scandals, especially in recent years?

These are some of the questions the documentary, ‘The Corporation’ directed by Mark Achbar and Jennifer Abbott, seeks to look at and answer. It is a huge task to subject as amorphous an entity as a corporation to such close scrutiny and succeed. They do it with style and depth but without sacrificing entertainment values. One innovative tool they use is to treat the corporation as a living entity/person and subject it to basic psychological testing. They look at the myriad ways corporations have tried to take over our environment without giving a damn for the consequences. They look at the lack of ethical values at the core of corporate functioning. They look at the way a corporation is only bothered with the bottom line and not how its actions affect the world around it. And they come to a not so surprising conclusion in hindsight. That the corporation exhibits almost all the classic symptoms of a psychopath.

Where does compassion for a subject in one’s novel begin and desire to finish the story end? Is it right to use actual people to write something and hope that they will die soon so that you can finish writing? Do we as a society have the moral right to take the life of another human being even if that person has killed someone? Are we capable of realizing how momentous and irreversible death is?

Writers, I think, are highly selfish people. They live for their craft and characters and usually interact with society insomuch as it often gives them ideas for new stories. To them nothing matters more than getting a story down on paper and most importantly finishing it. They have to maintain a unique relationship with their characters. They have to be honest and caring but detached enough to not get personal and impose their own view on the people in their books. It is this conflict that Capote struggles with as he writes ‘In Cold Blood’, arguably his most famous work.

On one hand he is a narcissistic man in love with himself and on the other hand he has a compassionate heart. He is unable to detach himself from the people who form characters in his book. He wants to finish the book but for that to happen the protagonists have to die. So he vacillates between not helping them find a lawyer so that their appeal against the death sentence cannot go forward and hating himself for being so self-absorbed.

He cannot help himself from developing an affectionate bond with a person who has murdered a family in cold blood. He begins to care for him. He wants to help him delay the inevitable. But deep within all this affection is his selfish desire to be done with the book, a book which he has proclaimed, even before he has written a word of it, as his best. So he struggles to find a moral center, a justification for what he is doing, and he fails.

Philip Seymour Hoffman justly deserves all the praise he has been getting. His is a sublime performance and is one of the best I’ve seen in recent times. He achieves the rare distinction of slipping so much into the character’s skin that you no longer see the actor; you only see the character he portrays. He carries the film solely on his shoulders and never falters. The moment near the end of the film when he truly realizes what is about to happen, the way Hoffman breaks down made my eyes water with genuine empathy for what the man was feeling. It was a supreme achievement. Praise should go to the director Bennett Miller as well. It is hard to believe that this is his first feature film. To show the internal conflict Truman Capote underwent when writing one of the most important book’s of the 60s in such a brilliant manner; Miller can be proud of the perfect jewel he has crafted.

A strange feeling of disconnect
From me and you and everyone
The blinking cursor
Waiting for words
To fill up the empty whiteness

Fingers curved with expectancy
Eyes straining to take a different look
At feelings unfamiliar
And thoughts unknown

The above middling lines are the result of watching a quirky and low key film, ‘Me and You and Everyone We Know’, a film about intimacy and disconnect in the digital age. Other than the fact that I’m smitten by the director and lead actress of the film, Miranda July (such beautiful eyes she has), the film has left behind strange feelings in my heart. I don’t know if you will understand but I feel like hugging someone I love and feel the warmth flowing between our two hearts. It is as if there is something unsaid in me that needs to be said. The lines at the beginning succeed only a little in encapsulating that feeling. Is it because the film has affected me on more levels than I know? Is it because parts of it reflect my views about intimacy? Or is it solely because Miranda July reminds me so much of a special person from my past?

In this age of virtual bonding and fleeting love I wonder how far apart we are moving from each other. Humans are social animals, we need to touch, feel, hug and kiss to stay connected with our feelings. Otherwise we start to fold into ourselves like touch-me-nots. They say technology connects but I wonder…I think it connects but only with increasing superficiality. The telephone was the first step in that separation…now we do not even have time to call…the warmth of the human voice has been replaced by the utter (un)feeling of chatting.

Where are the conversations we used to have in the moonlight, waiting for dawn? Where are the feelings that fell like dew between two human beings? Where are the unspoken words that took birth as we watched the gentle glow of dawn, holding hands after staying awake the whole night, talking about you and me and everything? Where are the sleepy smiles of midnight?

He lay there in the midst of dead bodies, his handsome face streaked with blood. The fallen wires sizzled in the collected mixture of blood, alcohol, sweat and water. He stared into the empty eyes of his boss into whose head he had pumped bullet after bullet. All for what? For love? For honor? He did not care now. That fleeting feeling had been more important. It had made him human for a little while. It had shown what ‘normal’ life was like. It was not just obedience, guns and enforcement. There were things like music lessons, illicit love and what-not-stuff people indulged in.

The stranger stood to the side and waited patiently. He had turned up at the fag end of the proceedings but had extracted his part payment in blood. This was a cool customer, unruffled by the stale stench of death. He waited, with a certain amount of respect, for the right moment. He looked at the man in the middle of all the mayhem.

Dreams rolled over his eyes. She was there. Her large eyes, looking at him from a great distance, like beacons on some rocky outcrop. He had broken out of his shell but little did she know. It was better this way. Lesser emotional baggage all around. Her hands were playing the violin but he could not hear anything, a soundless dream carrying him along somewhere. Something rustled close to him. He slowly opened his eyes and could vaguely make out someone looking down at him.

The stranger saw the man try to focus his eyes on him. There was a look of such intense melancholy on his face that he hesitated for a second. But there was no time. He could hear the rising Doppler of the sirens coming closer. He brought his gun up and shot the man. Once. Twice. Thrice.

(note: a fictional episode directly inspired by the closing scenes of the Korean film ‘Dalkomhan Insaeng (A Bittersweet Life)’, Kim Jee-Woon’s moody meditation on loyalty, love and loss.)

As Moby’s stirring ‘God moving over the face of the waters’ slowly begins, Vincent (Al Pacino) is standing, holding Neil’s (Robert De Niro) hand, facing the lights of the airport in the distance. The back of Vincent speaks the words which are swimming through my heart. My heart is awash with emotion, mainly because of the music, which slips under my emotional radar and touches something liquid inside my heart, jostling and making me want to hold onto someone. Moby is adept at eliciting your deepest feelings with some of his songs and the aforementioned song, in this particular context, is among his very best.

Heat is a mainstream Hollywood film with its heart in the right place. The uncommunicative silences of the modern world, the enforced distances, the forced loneliness, the inability to force change from something we believe in, love slipping through our hands like rain drops and crime seen through human eyes. It is a masterpiece of social observation in the vein of Altman’s Short Cuts, Anderson’s Magnolia or even the newest addition, Haggis’s Crash.

There is no good or bad. The world is a grey mirror reflecting our individual circumstances. We have the choice to change but we are stuck in a rut, unable to break out. We do what we think we believe in. Relationships begin to fade, wrongs pile up, and we still fail to effect changes. Life is not linear. Life is like a million little eddies uniting to form a single stream.

See it if you have not seen it already. See it even if you saw it when it first came out, you will find new ways to fall in love. For sometimes the intimacy of a private viewing is needed to create a bond between the film and you, an intimacy which a theatrical viewing lacks. Or just see it for that final scene I described above. It is worth for the rainbow of emotions it evokes. Arguably, Michael Mann’s best film to date.

Can you talk in images? Can you paint the colors of my land in three dimensions? Can you evoke the smells of forgotten memories? Can you differentiate the manifold tastes of an entire ethos? Swades, the film, did and does that for me. Arguably, the best film to come out of the Indian mainstream cinema in recent times.

From the beginning to the end, it is filled with profound dialogues, scintillating and soulful music, brilliant performances and vibrant cinematography. It brings to life the true India; the many inconsistencies, the innumerable inequities, the uncountable hurdles, the heartbreaking poverty, the heady feelings, the wonderful warmth, the sensual colors, and the sense of being and belonging.

Each time I see it, it is as if I’m seeing it for the first time. Each time I share the joy, sadness, love and laughter of real people in a real film. Each time I miss the many things I’ve left behind. Each time I yearn for a land that is far away yet makes my heart shed a thousand tears. Each time I remember what I gave up in search for material want and worldly knowledge.

Almost every frame is a study in perfection. The film is full of iconic images, the boy selling water at the train station, the lead character traveling in a boat, the language of love spoken solely through the eyes of the actor and actress, the electric bulb lighting up the face of a half-blind woman, the nostalgia for one’s own country told through one heart wrenchingly beautiful and powerful song, and how can one forget the sheer beauty of the music lending an extra dimension to all the scenes mentioned and more.

Every Indian should, no, must see this film. And not just an Indian, anyone wanting to experience what it is to be an Indian and what she is at the core needs to see it. Don’t give in to the clichés of cows, beggars and poverty. India is justly more than the sum of these parts. India is indeed the crucible of all civilization as someone rightly said.

This film is worthy of a hundred awards. I bow to the courage of the director to make such a film, a film which did not appeal to an audience deadened into accepting overacted melodramas, disconnected dramas and unrealistic love stories. I salute the near genius of the music director and I congratulate the visual poetry of the cinematographer and production designer. I hope this will bring in a revolution in mainstream films and mark the beginning of an alternate approach to film making. A style of film making that revels in telling a story and yet does not shirk from pointing out the truth, disguising hard reality or including a message.

We need more people like Mohan Bhargava. We need more dreamers like him who have the courage to fashion a new India, an India worthy of admiration, an India leading the world again, taking her rightful space at civilization’s forefront. To paraphrase Rabindranath Tagore, let her become a teardrop on the cheek of eternity.

The rain fell like warm feelings, wetting my heart with the tears of yesterday. I wandered down the street moving in and out of the long shadows. The street was mostly empty reflecting the state of my mind. My eyes stared at the way the raindrops rolled off the edge of my fingertips, drop by drop, and one after the other in slow motion. I like rain and the manifold forms it takes. The late summer evening shower is the best, washing away the heat and grime of the day with a gentle whisper. Lo! The sun peeked out of the corner of a cloud like a shy child. I bathed myself in this sudden radiance, cleansing my emotions with the weightless photons.

The sky opened its arms for me. I covered myself in the warmth of its blue embrace. Eyes closed, hand folded over my chest I fell into an ocean of dreams. Seldom does one find such a perfect stillness, a stillness which can be sliced with the edge of a sword. I traveled far, as far away as possible to a land where deserts wrote poetry with sand and rocks radiated wisdom with their silence.

I touched red water with my feet and kissed blooming flowers with the edge of my tongue. I held warm flesh in my arms and caressed the sinuous curves of beautiful bodies. I fought ugly moods and played with splendid emotions.

Green memories tumbled over each other in my head in an effort to gain the gift of permanence, each one a box of feelings and hidden insights, each one a window into time distorted by the play of light and thought. I moved on, counting the cobblestones receding under my feet like milestones of the mind. In the distance, I could see my destination appear out of the wet haze.

Nothing mattered anymore. The days may roll and the nights may flow but my memories will still be secure in their niche. I can listen to their mellow voices whenever nostalgia shoots its melancholic arrows again.

I opened the door and entered the white room.

(a personal ode to the utter visual splendor of the Chinese film ‘Hero’)