Baasha-bashing?

Another late night/early morning repeat movie. This time Baasha. Stylish and totally Rajnikanth-esque. One of my favourite scenes is the 'Unmaiya sonnen' - 'I told the truth' - dialogue, when the lecherous medical college owner takes back the indecent proposal he offers Rajni's sister, on coming to know that the auto-driver Manickam was the underworld don Baasha a few years before. The movie is littered with dialogues and snippets of populist messages. Not too bad an idea though, considering people whistled their happiness through more than a 100 days when the movie was released.

A few points. Of course the movie is silly and no point indicating isolated bloopers. But some tickle whatever makes you smile the wry one on lean days. The auto-driving population has to be humoured but parading a pregnant lady to convey a dubious message in the first song did not make much sense. Also noticed that old mothers in Tamil movie have to mouth the 'Nalla pasanga pa' dialogue, with an affectionate smile, at her breed of youngsters, atleast once a movie or we know the father made a wrong choice in his second bride. Near the climax, the Inspector calls for the control room to trace a call after the line gets cut (Purists will say the receiver is left dangling off the hook and so a trace is possible but whatever). The funny thing here is the attempt to be perfectly logical. And then of course the brother knows just whose records to look up after seeing Rajni pointing his index finger up against henchman Janakaraj's objections. The hand-kissing part in the Baasha scenes are awesome and what is with humble heroes bearing unjust blows with broad smiles? And the windshield-shattering-with-a-log idea to stop a car is surely borrowed from movies with more equestrian participation! One final note: Isn't 'Nee pesum Thamizh azhagu' - 'The tamil you speak is beautiful' - going way too overboard?

Kannathil Muthamittal

Saw Kannathil Muthamittal again. It is, in my opinion, one of the best movies I have ever seen, possessing beauty in form and content. The music and the lyrics, the dialogues, the characters well-etched and portrayed, the direction and the editing, indeed just about everything is nice. A couple of thoughts are in order now that I have spent nearly 3 more hours on it, having seen the movie a few times already.

When Amudha runs away from school the first time, she is found in the Perambur Railway Station. Peculiar, Mani Ratnam's attachment to the railways and trains: quite a few of his movies include an important scene on a train or in a railway station. A few movies that come to mind immediately are: Agni Nakshathiram(the song), Dhalapathi(the child abandoned in a train), Nayakan(the girl asking Kamal about her mother), Dil Se(the song and the opening sequence), Alaipayuthe(lots of scenes), Thiruda Thiruda(the premise itself), AE(Meera Jasmine and Siddharth have scenes on trains), Kannathil Muthamittal(see above) etc. I do not think it is exhaustive and maybe I am taking a piece of coincidental observation too far but..

The central theme in the movie is expressed of course in the beautiful Vellai Pookal song(a song for peace to dawn in a world torn in pieces by conflict), with each of the other songs providing variations or minor themes. For example, Vidai Kodu catches the effects of social displacement; Kannathil Muthamittal, the love-hate relationship between the child and the parents; the short ditty when Madhavan and Simran open their hearts, the idealistic couple; the other two major songs are intros to Amudha's character and to Sri Lanka itself. All fine songs and beautiful sequences though the songs I have not named are not favourites of mine.

The script is also a mixed bag of many ideas. It raises issues about adoption, terrorism, war, idealism, adjustment etc. One thing that matters a lot these days is terrorism and that will be the subject of my next long post.

Small change

He held up the rupee coin in the light of the dying streetlamp. The light that danced off the tarnished metal in the silent gloom made him flinch but he kept looking, eyes half-closed buddha-like. No, not in greed or in triumph but in wonder; that this was all one got for braving the merciless sun overhead and underfoot, running in rags passed as heirlooms from generation to generation, begging of glum men wandering lost in the park or at the railway station in words that made little sense. There was magic in it, he understood. And those who knew how to use it, when they had drained all the magic off it, threw it away to kids like him: worthless; but it helped live. One day, he told himself, I'll get a new coin, and then I will not need to run ever in the night when the police constable comes among us drunk, venting his fury on our bare bones; and I will throw the used coin on the face of that filthy rat from the opposite bank who stole from me the red car at the traffic signal yesterday.

He held up the rupee coin in the light of the dying streetlamp. He saw in the light that danced around the edges of the coin, the laughter of the young girl in the coffeeshop. Frayed and bright, nervous, waiting to please, so sure yet so unsure. This was what she too was worth, to be held in his hand against the light. Protecting him from the light and her eyes from the ugly leer. The coin in his hand gave him the right to say so. Hadn't he earned it, with the sweat of his brow and with the work of his hands? This, finally, was the meaning of life: to hold in one's hand one's worth, honest and hard-earned, and if it be slippery, to hold it firm and feel happy in the glow of possession.

He held up the rupee coin in the light of the dying streetlamp. Not much in it, this piece of metal that sold itself, bought itself. Besides he had the job now and his new set of credit cards. The coin clattered away into a gutter, leaving in its tinkling wake the sound of a wasted silence.

Lines without tails - 2

It was always the same old thing, the routine never changed, flat, dull and boring. Today he will take the subway.

Lines without tails - 1

Round and round they went, hand in hand, smiling, happy, winking every now and then. And then the rain started.