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Thrills, adventure and many a nostalgic moment

ZIYA US SALAM

SPIDER-MAN 3

(At PVR Rivoli and other Delhi theatres)

The purveyors of stilted imagination are here again.

The concoction is the same, the whiff, the taste, everything, is the same. Add a huge Sandman here, a little love and angst there, and "Spider-Man" is ready in the third avatar, fighting evil, loving girls, defeating bad. But really this relentless pursuit of one-world-one-culture theory numbs the senses. And gratifies only those becalmed by the constant bombardment.

In a country where less than three per cent of the people understand English, Tobey Maguire has become almost a household name. And now the Hindi film industry, where almost every second release comes a cropper at the box office, has gladly accepted the linguistic transformation of "Spider-Man": the film has been released with more Hindi prints than English. Add to that the Tamil, Telugu and Bhojpuri prints and cinematic usurpation is complete.

Entertainment has no layers any more; the individual has no sphere of his own. The world sings and dances the same way, and dreams the same dream. Ready to join the gang? For a couple of hours inside the hall, it would be beautiful. The story grows gradually, the pace more leisurely.

Maguire is still affable with that easy charm that comes only to the natural. Kirsten Dunst is suitably angst-ridden and Sandman is quite a perplexing addition, imparting a touch of the unpredictable. In fact, it is with his character that the director is able to inspire awe: the youngsters squeal, the kids hold on to the seats in eager anticipation of the next moment as man and sand blend, then vanish. It is impressive in its execution and absolutely superb in conception.

But what about Spider-Man? He still flies, he still drops easy as a cat, he still crawls up a wall and spins a wonderful web.

But somehow, he is shackled by the storyline. He gets too little action in too little doses as the film turns high on the emotion quotient. The skyscrapers, the people watching in awe, the occasional rush to deliver the picture to the newspaper office ahead of the rest has a touch of familiarity. It could have been from any of the first two instalments.

So where does this one score? First, there is that recall value and abiding fans. They would faithfully queue up. Then once the film gets under way, there is a fine emotional drama as the young man gets the attention of two ladies; one a constant companion, the other a siren. You wish Dunst to pip the competitor; you wish Maguire luck. It is quite interesting up to a point. Then you realise you don't go to see a tale of anguish or wet hankies in "Spider-Man".

You go for thrills, for a sense of adventure, and a little date with escapism. This is where the film falls short.

Still the film is worth a look if you share the one-world dream. Or don't mind a couple of hours inside the hall for some moments of stolen pleasure.

YATRA

(At Regal and other Delhi theatres)

The garden of memories grows with each passing day. And Goutam Ghose, he with barely a ripple on the commercial circuit, waters the plant like an adept gardener. His "Yatra" is like that old familiar tree that goes back to our childhood. A tree that is a repository of memories, most cherished, some painful.

Not a mere romance, "Yatra" is actually a subtle satire on a system where a sarangi player works as a labourer to earn a living, a Sohni becomes Susan in a call centre, a writer gets a Hindi sahitya sanskriti award at a function conducted in English. Yet it is not just a dig at contemporary times.

There is a wistful note about the past too. A past where a courtesan taught a man the virtues of fidelity, where a dancing girl recited Ghalib yet made her money by dancing to popular numbers. A little nostalgic, a little cry of anguish, Ghose's film is about the times that were and the people that we have become. Talking of the times that were, he casts Rekha here as the courtesan who must maintain her dignity in the face of grave provocation. And isn't it like yesterday again?

There is a whiff of "Umrao Jaan" all over again as the enchantress recites poetry of Lalan Shah and others, and is equally adept at a thumri, a dadra and a remix. The passage of time has left a little scribble; the signpost is still ages away. On the dance floor, however, she is not quite the seductress we expect her to be. Maybe Pandit Birju Maharaj and Saswati Sen's work was a shade too brow, maybe the lady just wanted to prove she is human after all!

Human? That is Nana Patekar here, clearly the surprise packet of the film. Gone is the sulk, the little brood we have got accustomed to. Instead as a Hindi writer with a wife and English-speaking family at home, and a courtesan waiting somewhere, he is a picture of restrain. Never does he lapse into the Nana of old, his half-spoken sentences, his barely audible quibbles, his sarcasm, all carry the mark of conviction. His speech of acceptance after receiving the literary award is a delight; his interaction with the lady companion is a source of constant amusement: the lady praises the Hindi writer after having read an English translation. Then there are one-liners that are witty without being crass, that make you smile without laughing.

Add to all that a musical score where each song blends effortlessly with the whole; almost every song by Khayyam and Goutam Ghose is a treasure: it is real music that never degenerates into cacophony. And, yes, no Himesh Reshammiya here at all. That should be incentive enough for the discerning!

Glitches? Yes, it is not the perfect masterpiece that Ghose will, hopefully, deliver one day. Here at times some of the sarcasm seems forced, some of the comparisons avoidable. And the technique of flashback and forward may not please everyone. Still, it is among the better films to hit the silver screen in recent times. Go for "Yatra", a multi-layered film with a mind open to change, with a heart ready to embrace love all over again. The garden continues to grow.

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