The Hindu : New Delhi News : Three Oscars, three cheers... .

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Sunday, Mar 12, 2006

New Delhi

New Delhi

Three Oscars, three cheers... .

ZIYA US SALAM

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

(At PVR Spice, Noida; and Delhi theatres)

It is the kind of film one waits to see all year long; a film that is so disquieting in its silence and so moving with words unsaid. A love story of two consenting adults of the same sex - the word gay would be a travesty here - Ang Lee's film invests tender emotions into each frame, and backs them up with the practical problems of same-sex affiliation. A man may be in love with a man but he can only take a woman to bed; he may sire a child in wedlock and still yearn for fulfilment elsewhere. Yet again, a man might give in to temptation but durable dreams reside only in wedlock. On such threads, some delicate, others knotty, Lee spins together a so-called gay cowboy story that transcends space and time.

Just a story of Ennis and Jack (Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal), in its specificity lies its universal appeal. It could as well have been set in ancient or medieval India or Persia. It could have been Sodom or Gomorrah. Just as well it could have come from the pen of a Mir Taqi Mir - remember his fascination for the son of an attar? - or even Mahmud of Ghaznavi or Babur and their association with an Ayyaz, a Baburi. Not to forget a Shakespeare or an Oscar Wilde or Rumi.

It is the kind of cinema that makes a mockery of the argument that you need special effects to pull in the crowds, that you need action - read violence - to pull in the younger lot. And you need lots of skin show for the show to go on at the turnstiles. All hogwash. Lee, despite "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" in the resume, proves it in ample measure with a tale of two guys who fall in love in the seclusion of a ranch, find their wives elsewhere, then realise that the bond they share is more profound than anything else. A simple story? Yes, but it is movingly told, with barely a hiccup in the narration, no melodrama in enactment. There is a soul to this story that gives it a trans-generation appeal.

Watch "Brokeback Mountain" for its sensitivity, for its craft, for its guile. Watch it for Lee who abjures all sensationalism and handles even the trickiest of situations, like two men in bed, with poise and candour. Watch it for its visual beauty that adds depth to narration. Yes, whatever your orientation or ideology, take some time out for "Brokeback Mountain". The three Oscars it has won are only a manifest sign of acceptance. The purpose is paramount. The "outsider" may just learn to accept the "insider", and "Brokeback Mountain" may just be the beacon one needs.

MALAMAAL WEEKLY

(A Delite and other Delhi theatres)

Priyadarshan enters familiar territory, the zone where he knows laugh lines better than those on his palm. Of course, the laughs are aplenty and many enjoy the goings-on often enough for the director to walk away with the smugness of a successful attempt written all over. However, the fare here is screechy, loud and almost deafening in the name of boisterousness. It is ear-splitting drama masquerading as constant frenzy.

However, do watch "Malamaal Weekly" in these days of real meagre offerings for Hindi film faithful. It is not great cinema by a long stretch. It is just about okay. Watch it simply for Paresh Rawal who in a rarity towers over all frames of the film. He gets a meaty role, the kind he would gobble up for food and drink.

As the only graduate of a timeless village - wonder where do the villages of Priyadarshan exist in real India! - he is a lottery ticket seller whose world changes when one day he hits upon a winner. His facial expressions are a delight and his voice modulation more so. What's more, he has no hang-ups: even as the "hero" Riteish Deshmukh as a penniless domestic help wears the best jeans and jackets in town, Rawal, as a bread earner gets into dirty dhotis and crumpled kurtas with the ease of a natural actor. Buck tooth, unshaven chin, rubber slippers. No pretensions, no excuses, just a performance that stands out for its integrity. He gets wonderful company from Om Puri. The two share a chemistry that is miles ahead of the film where many of the characters think that the best way to raise a laugh is to contort their face and scream their lungs out.

That is fine, but what is Priyadarshan's latest laugh riot all about? Well, it is the story of a poor, real poor Indian village where one occupant suddenly lands up a lottery of a crore, then dies. How, the whole village wants a pie of the share is the thinnest of storylines that the director does a good job of concealing. For a major part the laughs work, then in the second half everything drags on and on. Editing is poor, the acting not much better. And you wish this madcap saga would draw to an end. Of course, Priyadarshan saves the day with a nice little twist that compensates for some of the joys denied along the way.

"Malamaal Weekly" is not the richest offering from a man who has given us films like "Hera Pheri" and "Hulchul" in the past, but considering he has no star to fall back on, he does a reasonable job of keeping the proceedings alive and kicking. Prepare for melodrama and a heroine in a backless choli where all women walk miles to get a pitcher of water! Keep some space for lungpower. Add some cotton wool. Subtract some logic and reason. Then venture to watch "Malamaal Weekly" this weekend.

JIGYAASA

(At Regal and other Delhi theatres)

Director Faisal Saif takes us down to the sleaze street where only devils reside, where Satan is a constant companion, where wolves masquerade as purveyors of cine dreams. It will be nothing less than a sin to pay a visit to this film that is a blatant exploitation of a sensitive subject. Yes, on the surface Saif deals with the aspirations and the pitfalls of a wannabe actress. But he turns her vulnerability into his licence by taking the viewers to a prolonged show of sex in all its possible permutations and combinations. Actress with the director, with the journalist, with the don, actress with a female producer, an organiser with alternate sexuality with a wannabe model... Sick? Can't blame you, the proceedings here are an absolute no-no for anyone with a modicum of dignity, for anyone desirous of any entertainment except the meanest, the cheapest, the raunchiest.

Stay away from this foray to the ugly underbelly of dream merchants. "Jigyaasa" satisfies no curiosity, satiates no thirst. For all the desperate attempts of Hrishitaa Bhatt at skin show, it is a sad advertisement for relentless mediocrity.

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