What's That You've Got Missing? A Heart?

Ok, let me start by saying that I went in to watch Jodhaa-Akbar fully prepared to fall in love with the historical epic. Ashutosh Gowariker, after all, does have a rather splendid body of work to impress and excite people with. You don't get nominated for an Oscar for nothing. And the premise this time seemed so perfectly grandiose - a sweeping love story set in the royally magnificent days of Mughal Shehenshahs and phrases like "Takh Liya!" - what more could one ask for? Everything seemed so right about this movie that, much as in the case of Sanjay Bhansali's Black, people were talking about the Oscar prospects of the movie months before its release. Sadly, they spoke too soon.

I can't really give the exact reason why the movie failed to impress me. The plot construction and character development are more than adequate, the acting is top-notch and the painstaking attention to detail evident throughout the movie is truly commendable. I guess it's just one of those movies which you can brush off with a comment like, "but it had no soul!". And as snobbish as that sounds, I think it's spot on. Gowariker seems to have got a little lost amid all the splendor and the fancy Urdu. The cornerstone of the movie, the fundamentally vulnerable bond between Emperor Akbar and the Rajput princess Jodhaa simply doesn't create an impact as strong as one would have expected in a larger-than-life saga such as this. As contradictory as this may sound, Gowariker had an excellent premise to cut his teeth into, but not enough meat in the central plot to chew on. A cinematic head-scratcher, I'm sure, that not many filmmakers have to deal with.

Historically speaking the movie seems well-researched (for a wikipedia-educated person anyway), though it is certainly questionable whether Akbar would have spent so much time and energy wooing the politically-bonded Jodhaa when he reportedly had over a 100 wives to worry about. The military conquests and political travails of Akbar are intricately woven into the plot in an efficient enough way so that no sub-plot seems out of place or unnecessary. When I say 'sub-plots', of course, I don't include the overly long-drawn sequences of grief and melodrama suffered by just about everyone in the movie, because there sure are plenty of 'unnecessary' instances of those. The movie trundles along at a luxuriously leisurely pace, and while that is forgivable for a period drama, one does wish that Mr. Gowariker hadn't wasted so much time in the first half just trying to establish the proceedings. And the battle scenes. How do I put it? When I first heard about the lavish budget and use of CGI in the film I began to dare to hope that for once, Bollywood would turn out something revolutionary in the purely technical realm of live action. All that came crashing down the moment the Battle of Panipat came on. The sequence is a seriously ridiculous piece of trash, and I was almost in tears by the end of it. Thankfully, however, the quality of the battle scenes improves dramatically as the film moves on (thanks in no small part to the fact that all the subsequent battles aren't really full-fledged, all-out wars but more of small-scale, half-hearted negotiation-cum-conflicts). The final one-on-one fight between Akbar and his principle nemesis bears striking resemblance to the Brad Pitt-Eric Bana fight in Troy, and though it isn't quite as good as the Troy one, it is reasonably well done. The swordfight between Jodhaa and Akbar, however, scores over all the other fight sequences, and considering how much the cinematography and stunt direction of this movie were being talked up, that's a little sad.

The movie's dialogue is considerably difficult to understand, specially since the actors simply refuse to pronounce Urdu the way that it is supposed to be pronounced. And sorry, but there just aren't enough memorable lines for a movie of such epic proportions. The music by A.R. Rahman is fantastic as usual, particularly the Azeem-O-Shaan Shehenshah track, which, in one word, is awesome. As for the acting, I can confidently say that Hrithik Roshan has matured into a truly marvellous actor - he brings out every confused and passionate facet of an emperor with such incredible intensity that I repeatedly had to hit myself on the head for ever having doubted his capabilities as an actor. That said, however, I could never quite shake off the lingering feeling that Hrithik just didn't fit the role of Akbar. He looks - how do I put it? - far too - chiselled? and a little, um, puny, for a king. If you're laughing at me for calling the man with probably the best body in Bollywood 'puny', you ought to take a look at the size of the guy who plays his brother-in-law. Aishwarya Rai is perfectly cast as the headstrong woman-who-would-be-queen, and manages to look like an exquisite dream even when she's straining every nerve trying to make those sobs sound genuine (I have to say I admire her immensely for the effort she puts into acting). The rest are all sidekicks who get sidelined repeatedly during the course of the stuttering romance between these two, though it must be said that Sonu Sood does surprise you with a competent performance.

The cinematography, I'll make no bones about this, is disappointing. The imposing forts and the sets look grand, I'll agree, but I always felt like there was something missing, something that Gowariker forgot to add when taking all those sweeping shots of architectural marvels. There was no majesty in the art direction, no sense of awe-inspiring grandeur. The only times the movie looked anything close to a visual spectacle were when the camera focussed on Ms Rai. This, however, is a completely subjective opinion; I'm sure there are lots of people out there who were totally taken in by the sets and the photography. It's just that I wasn't. It's one of those things. And the movie's length! God, did no one on the sets of the movie remember to carry a watch? 3 hours 45 minutes is WAY too long for ANY kind of movie. One thing's for sure, this film is not going to win any awards for editing.

Gowariker'e last movie, Swades (which I personally loved), was widely criticized for being too much like a documentary and for lacking heart and entertainment value. I think that sort of criticism is much more appropriate for Jodhaa-Akbar. The movie has all the right intentions and the means to be going on with, but it simply fails to ignite the emotions of the viewer. It almost looks a little robotic - some of the lines and sequences, like the one where Akbar abolishes the jizyah tax, come off as downright mechanical. Not a major fault on the part of the director, by any means, but sometimes this sort of thing stops an ambitious and well-made project from becoming a great movie. Swades was a great movie. So was Asoka, if you're talking about historical epics. Not so Jodhaa-Akbar.

Overreacting to Molehills

It's been 3 days since the India-Australia Test at Sydney got over, but the furore over the events during the match simply refuses to subside. I suppose you could call this a good thing, what with Test cricket getting such passionate attention after a prolonged spell of unpopularity, but that would be being optimistic in the extreme. You know what else has been extreme? The knee-jerk and unreasonable reactions to the whole unfortunate episode. I'm sorry, but threatening to boycott a cricket tour because of a couple of bad umpiring decisions and a harsh sentence for an allegedly racist remark is going WAY overboard. I wonder if the series would have been in as much jeopardy as it is now if India had managed to save the Test?

The media has been every bit as excessive in its assessment of the affair as the boycott-happy Indian cricket board. The Times of India has been particularly boisterous in its coverage of the episode, first calling for the result of the Test to be annulled and then proceeding to devote headline after headline (and editorials too) to the threatened tour. Perhaps someone should tell the guys up at The Times of India that if the result of every Test match that suffered from umpiring errors was annulled, there would barely be more than a couple of Test results in the sub-continent in the 80's and early 90's. Umpiring errors, specially when they come from non-biased umpires (Steve Bucknor and Mark Benson are both 'neutral' umpires; they have almost no connection with Australia or Australian cricket) have to be taken with a pinch of salt; there's nothing much you can do about them until the ICC and the cricketing world in general realize the importance of bringing technology into all decisions on the cricket field. So much for level-headed common sense.

As far as the 'bad sportsmanship' of the Australian cricketers is concerned, I'd like to know when the Aussies have ever been a saintly group of sweet-talkers. The Kangaroos have been known to be past masters at sledging, or 'mental disintegration' as Steve Waugh liked to euphemistically put it, and if the rest of the cricketing world could tolerate their nonsense for a whole decade, then why the hue and cry all of a sudden? The English and their 'jellybeans' tactics hadn't attracted half as fierce a backlash as the Aussies have in this Test, which makes me really wonder whether it's just human nature to revel in the foibles of the mighty and the powerful. And puh-lease, since when has claiming half volley catches become a criminal offense? Nearly every player in the world has done it at some point of his career, and while that doesn't make it any less distasteful, it certainly does raise a few questions about the indignant reactions to Michael Clarke's catch to dismiss Sourav Ganguly (which, incidentally, wasn't even proven to be conclusively illegal).

The Harbhajan Singh-Andrew Symonds spat was a serious issue, I'll admit, but wouldn't a straightforward motion for an appeal (which is all the Indian management was left to do eventually anyway) have sufficed, rather than the dramatic boycott threats and disturbingly grave statements that the BCCI so foolishly indulged in? Ah, theatrics! How we love to honour thee! Ok, maybe that was a little cheesy, but I really am at pains to understand why the media and the Indian cricket board have made such a big issue out of this matter. It was only a cricket match, after all - a cricket match in which a few decisions unfortunately and unwittingly decided the course of the match, but also a cricket match in which one team lost because it couldn't survive an over of part-time left-arm spin. Perhaps it would do the Indian team a whole lot of good if its management spent half as much time and effort as it did in attacking the umpiring and refereeing in the match into teaching its bowlers how to hold a bat.

Bollywood 2007: Highlights

I know this is a little late, but here's the second of my 'best of the year' lists, which is about Bollywood. I guess I'll just have to abandon the third of my lists; my posts about tennis hardly get any readers anyway.

Movie of the year: A tight three-way contest between No Smoking, Taare Zameen Par and Jab We Met. After a lot of thought I’ve decided to go with No Smoking for its fantastically imaginative and original script that is treated with such immaculate flair by Anurag Kashyap. No Smoking has almost made me forgive Kashyap for his disparaging comments about Sanjay Bhansali’s Black. Almost.

Performance of the year: Kareena Kapoor’s exuberant turn as the rumbustious Geet in Jab We Met may not have been the greatest exhibition of acting, but it will be remembered for years to come for the sheer fullness of its spirit and naturalness of its expression. Jab We Met wasn’t so much a story of a chance meeting between two potential lovers as it was a celebration of the star that is Kareena Kapoor. And did Kareena enjoy the celebration!
Honorable mention: Darsheel Safary for his stunningly realistic portrayal of a dyslexic child in Taare Zameen Par.

Disappointment of the year: Om Shanti Om may have been the biggest blockbuster of the year, but it fell miles short of my expectations from Farah Khan, especially as it came after the super-enjoyable Main Hoon Na. Someone needs to tell Farah Khan that the spoof-cum-tribute thing is getting a little old now.

PR mastery of the year: Amitabh Bachchan made all the wrong moves career-wise, starring in duds ranging from the ridiculous Jhoom Barabar Jhoom to the pitiable Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag, but he was mighty successful in one thing – teaching his son how to handle the media. Abhi-Ash was low-key and unglamorous, but not one joint public appearance by the couple failed to whip up a media frenzy. Clearly, the B Family’s got what it takes. I’ve finally figured out how Aishwarya Rai could ever have agreed to marry Abhishek Bachchan. Enough said.

‘Still got it’ star of the year: Shahrukh Khan defied his age and lack of versatility to come up with a couple of blockbusters and Anil Kapoor proved in Welcome that there’s no one who can quite do the loveable hooligan as well as him, but it is Madhuri Dixit who gets my vote for this award for simply being the Madhuri Dixit we’ve all grown to love. Five years after her last cinematic appearance in Devdas, Ms Dixit-Nene in Aaja Nachle is every bit as charming, as beautiful and as magical as she was in her heyday. Too bad her comeback movie itself was as silly as was Madhuri enthralling.

‘Serves you right’ act of the year: The legal team of Hitch suing, or attempting to sue the makers of Partner for plagiarism. It’s about time Bollywood puts a stop to its shameless and utterly disgraceful ripping off of Hollywood flicks.

Song of the year: As many as 3 songs from Taare Zameen Par could have come up trumps in this category - Aamir Khan sure does know a thing or two about songs and their place in a movie. Maa was unbelievably heart-rending and the title track was magnificent. But Mera Jahan had it all - great music, terrific lyrics and choreography that was almost too perfect to be true. Well, the movie was Aamir Khan's directorial debut; something had to be perfect.
Honourable mention: The Main Agar Kahoon track from Om Shanti Om for its wonderful, wonderful picturization, Tum Se Hi from Jab We Met for its beautiful construction coupled with its sweetly soothing tune and Phoonk De from No Smoking for, well, you'll never get it, so never mind.

Dance sequence of the year: Kareena Kapoor and Saroj Khan’s Yeh Ishq Hai number from Jab We Met. Most people might shudder in alarm at a Kareena Kapoor dance getting any sort of award in the year that Madhuri Dixit made a smashing dance-oriented comeback, but Ms Kapoor was something else in that song. She wasn’t dancing in front of the camera; she was having a whale of a time out there. So much so that some of her enthusiasm seemed to rub off on everyone else who appeared in the song. And I haven’t even started on the effortlessness of it all. *shakes head in awe*

Unintentionally hilarious movie of the year: Without a doubt the indescribable Cash. The only thing I want to know is: how on earth could Ajay Devgan have gone from the sensational Omkara to something as alarmingly inane as Cash? Incidentally, Cash would also be a strong candidate for the worst movie of the decade award, if ever someone decides to give such an award away.

Cricket 2007: Awards

It’s that time of the year again. No, I won’t be a cynical prick this time by bemoaning everything that’s wrong with silly New Year’s parties and launching into the ridiculous behaviour of the depressing bunch of people that make up the party-going crowd. Instead, I’ll follow the second most popular trend that people tend to follow at this time of the year – compiling ‘best of the year’ lists. So here is the first of 3 lists that I have come up with:

I. CRICKET:

Team of the year: Perhaps the most yawn-inducing category. Was there even a hint of a challenge to Australia’s supremacy in any form of cricket that lasted longer than 4 hours? I don’t know why opposing teams even bother to turn up against Ricky Ponting’s demons.

Player of the year: An infinitely more difficult category than the first. Do I give the nod to Jacques Kallis’s metronomic brilliance, Kumar Sangakkara’s assured artistry or Muttiah Muralitharan’s mind-numbing consistency? Purely in statistical terms Sangakkara was beyond all competition, but I think I’ll go with Kallis because of the quality of opposition he faced while making all those hundreds and the grittiness of his response to being omitted from the 20-20 squad.

Match of the year: A tough contest between the Australia-South Africa group clash at the 50-50 World Cup, the Sri Lanka-South Africa thriller at the same tournament and the two Indo-Pak battles at the 20-20 World Cup. The Indo-Pak matches - both of them - get my vote for the sheer novelty and thrill quotient of 20-20 matches.

Tragedy of the year: No disrespect to Bob Woolmer, but the pathetic organization of the 50-over World Cup was the unqualified disaster of the year. The forlorn crowds and lack of competition at the event made most cricket aficionados shake their heads and wonder whether this was the worst World Cup ever, only for the ICC to seal the debate by declaring that contrary to popular belief, the tournament was a resounding success. Reality check, anyone?

Goof-up of the year: Without a doubt the cringe-worthy farce at the end of the World Cup final. Seriously, what was Aleem Dar thinking? Honorable mentions to the Jamaican police for their cheap mystery novel antics after Bob Woolmer’s tragic death and Pakistan’s captain Shoaib Malik who was daft enough to be ignorant of the bowl-out rule at the 20-20 World Cup and dafter still to actually express his ignorance to the world.

Guffaw-worthy moment of the year: The winner here is Shane Warne’s George W. Bush-worthy gaffe, wherein he accidentally sent a dirty SMS to his wife which, quite remarkably, was addressed to someone else. Honestly, that guy’s got one thick head. It’s a miracle he actually knew which side of the pitch to bowl to, with a brain like that.

Colourful character of the year: Santhakumaran Sreesanth, how ridiculous art thou? The bat-swinging in Andre Nel’s face (Nel, incidentally, was another strong candidate for this award) last year was adorable, but Sreesanth's incredibly wayward bowling on the England tour, his riveting altercations with Andrew Symonds, his moments of infamy like the one where he tried to unsportingly run Symonds out and his astoundingly intelligent interviews have made him one of the most polarizing cricketers in the world, and also THE cricketing character of the year. Move over Shane Warne, your successor is here.

Debutant of the year: Mitchell Johnson may not have had quite such an eventful Test debut, but he’s shaping up to be a darn good bowler in all forms of the game and there was no other significant debut all year, so an automatic choice, really.

Let-down of the year: Brian Lara’s failures in the ICL, the rebel 20-20 league floated by Kapil Dev and Co may not have tarnished his legacy all that much, considering the very small number of people who took the ICL seriously, but his decidedly sub-par performances were still quite depressing. After all the hoopla surrounding the ICL’s very expensive signing of the legendary Trinidadian, Lara disappointed spectacularly, barely reaching double figures in any innings. A joke went around that Lara’s runs were some of the most expensive in history, what with his paltry 31 runs through the tournament fetching him a reported 1 million dollars. I’m sure Lara wouldn’t be amused.

Quote of the year: The quote I have selected is not particularly witty or humourous, but its emotional appeal, specially for Indian cricket fans, make it one of the most memorable quotes of the decade. Here's Mahendra Singh Dhoni on seeing the tumultuous response given to his World Cup-winning team in Mumbai:
"We are told that Mumbai is a city which is always on the move. See, me and my boys have brought the entire city to a standstill today."

Women's Empowerment: What's The Real Obstacle Here?

Serious Subject Alert: Here I go again, posting a very grave and very long article on my blog, and consequently running a very serious risk of losing all my readership in an instant. But what's life without a few risks?


When Oprah Winfrey decides to endorse Barack Obama and not the force of nature that is Hilary Clinton as her preferred U.S. presidential candidate, you know the feminist revolution that once swept across the world, threatening to obliterate everything in its path, is in trouble. Suggesting that this was probably just a case of the ever-magnanimous (and incredibly influential) Ms Winfrey playing favourites amongst her chosen discriminated groups is clearly a futile argument. Hilary Clinton certainly has tried everything in her rich armory to gain the support of Americans – she has played the understanding wife, the cold, calculating strategist, the empathizing leader, even the caring mother-figure. Everything save for the undignified role of the seductress (a role which she prefers to leave, no doubt, for the Monica Lewinskys of this world). And yet, she seems to be fighting a losing battle that is slipping away from her every single day. For all the talk about the West being more broad-minded and supportive of women’s rights, Ms Clinton’s wardrobe and her desperate attempts to break the bubble of pre-supposed feminine inadequacy have attracted far greater attention than her political policies. And that, no matter which way you spin it, is a sad commentary on the efforts of those countless activists who have been trying to prove to an amused and disbelieving world that equality of the sexes isn’t such a fanciful concept after all.

There is no social issue today, except perhaps for AIDS, that elicits as much attention, both positive and negative, as does the idea of women’s empowerment. Which is why it is particularly surprising, not to mention a little annoying, that so little has changed in the way that society looks at women despite decades of unstinting efforts of thousands of activists the world over. Women have been objectified for centuries together, and they are objectified even today. We may go blue in the face denying this, pointing at the purposeful strides that women have supposedly made in every field, but the fact remains that the prettier women are always the ones making the bigger strides while the not-so-pretty are left to wallow in their glorious wakes, wondering and muttering how things might have been a lot different but for a few quirks of fate. Which was the last popular women-centric movie to come out of Bollywood? Chak De! India earned all the big bucks and, as an added bonus, picked up bucketfuls of critical acclaim too, for its supposedly noble theme highlighting women’s rights. However, I couldn’t help but notice that the prettiest lass from the team not only got the most flattering camera space but was also given the royal treatment in terms of character development. Didn’t it strike anyone else as odd that the midget-like, and decidedly unattractive rival of Preeti Sabarwal (the beauty of the team) was consistently painted as the villain in the fight between the two even though both the characters were equally guilty of wrongdoing? And rather unsurprisingly, audiences across the country gleefully lapped it all up without noticing anything amiss. If you want any further confirmation of what I’m trying to say, you only have to turn on your TV and catch the first fairness cream ad that is aired; nothing that I say here will convey my point better than those lovely ads. And oh, if you’ve got a little more time to spare, keep watching the tube until an ad for a men’s fairness cream shows up. Trust me, if nothing else, it’ll keep you thoroughly entertained.

So what exactly is the obstacle that is preventing women from getting their rightful share from society? There can obviously be no clear answer to this question, but my thinking says that the problem lies not in the basic intent behind the feminist movement, nor in the means used by the feminists to achieve their ends. It’s in the peripheral matters, the issues secondary to the whole purpose of the endeavor, wherein all the bungling occurs. Women are equals of men, say the feminists. Right, we agree whole-heartedly with that. But pray why must they insist on thrusting the idea down our minds that women are identical to men? Women are not identical to men; they were never meant to be. Suggesting that women are, in terms of ability, indistinguishable from men, or, in other words, that women can do everything that men can, is not only inappropriate, but also highly insulting to women, men and humanity in general.

Individuality is one of the strongest qualities of humans, which is why it is only imperative for each human to retain his or her unique identity. This is obviously not taken into account by the convoluted logic behind wanting women to do anything and everything that is done by their male counterparts. We can ignore the realities of the world all we want but there’s no going around the fact there are some things that men do better than women, and some that women do better than men. Men are lousy parents and lousier cooks, but so are women terrible at driving and sports. Ok, ‘terrible’ might be a bit harsh when it comes to sports, but honestly, can women ever compete with men on a sustained basis when it comes to the really athletic games like soccer, hockey or tennis? Let’s get real; the main reason why women’s tennis is as popular as it is today is that the hemlines of the ladies can’t stop getting any higher. And as much as I admire the Williams sisters for their determination and athleticism, there’s no way they can convince me that women play tennis at the same level as men – you’ve only got to watch a three-set women’s match that lasts longer than 2 hours and all the huffing and panting and collapsing will give you a fair idea of just how ridiculous the notion that women can do everything that men can really is. And I’m sure everyone has experienced the undeniable truth that a woman working in a male-dominated field is never taken seriously, which again leads to the objectification and bias that I mentioned earlier.

Before anyone takes me for a bigoted male chauvinist, however, I must add that there are numerous things that men can’t do as well as women. Take building and maintaining relationships, for instance. Or being organized and efficient. Or giving shape to the future of humanity by being the ever-compassionate superpower that is a mother. But do we have the men clamoring to prove to the world how they can do all these things as well as women? Definitely not. This, however, opens up another can of worms. Why exactly do women want to compete in male strongholds and not vice-versa? A quick answer would be that the male strongholds are generally the more important and lucrative areas of work, while the things women are good at are just frilly, unimportant non-issues. But is that really so? I defy anyone who says that raising a kid is not important as fighting in a war. In fact, I’d even say raising a kid is actually more important than fighting in a war. What, then, is the real reason behind this disequilibrium? Another unanswerable question, I’m afraid, but I’ll try my best.

To my mind, the single most significant and pivotal reason for the gender inequality that has outlived every civilization in history is the attitude of ALL humans towards the qualities of the two sexes. Bravery, physical strength, decisiveness – all the attributes generally found in males have always been considered the most desirable qualities that a human can possess. ‘Manliness’ is something to be excessively proud about, as is ‘being a man’ or ‘not being a girl’. On the other hand, having qualities like kindness, compassion, patience and love have never been anything to shout about. Being virile is an achievement, even if it is completely inborn, but being girlish is distinctly undesirable. And this is not just the mindset of males; women think the exact same way. That is why, if a woman can cook, something that she’s traditionally supposed to be good at, it’s no big deal. But if a man is a champion at sports, he’s a hero worthy of reverence. Wouldn’t it be a lot simpler for everyone if we just attached a little more value to the abilities and domains traditionally ruled by women? If, for instance, we considered cooking as an admirable career to have, is there any doubt that women would rapidly and completely gain full control of the entire hotel management business all over the world? How about teaching? Or child counseling? Or fashion, for crying out loud? Is it really that shameful to have successful careers in any of these fields?

Alas, for simple logic. Instead of encouraging women to come out of their homes and carve out a distinctive place for themselves in society doing things that they are naturally good at, the so-called feminists are encouraging women to come out of their homes and do things that they’re not naturally good at, thus making their job doubly difficult and triply uncomfortable. Women’s empowerment cannot come from making labored and wince-inducing strides in areas that men are naturally better in, but from making purposeful and confident strides in areas that are suited to feminine abilities and powers. There will always be an Indra Nooyi here and a Serena Williams there to remind us that there can be wondrous exceptions to the rules, but hoping for the exceptions to become the rules is foolish in the extreme. Equality does not mean sameness – men and women have their own unique identities and the best way to reinforce the equality between men and women is to give due respect to the identities and abilities of both the sexes. If we can manage that, there won’t be any need to ‘empower’ women – they have enough power within them already.

Me Bored, So Me Write

I never thought I'd literally see a phrase written all over an event, but it was really hard to keep away the phrase 'too much of a good thing' from my mind while watching the 1st of 3 Test matches between India and Pakistan in Delhi. Honestly, the cricket throughout the match was so vapid and flavourless that it was startling. It didn't help, of course, that the current Pakistan team has about as much talent as a second string New Zealand team. The fizz has clearly fizzled out of Indo-Pak cricket and anyone who still insists that the cross-border rivalry is the definitive cricketing rivalry in the world needs to be rapped sharply on the head with a golfing iron or worse still, be forced to watch the movie Beowulf twice in a row. As a cricket fan, I'd like nothing better than the two countries to go back to their precious bickering and huffy cold shoulders (though only in the cricketing arena). Surely that would bring back the crackling intensity that once made Indo-Pak cricket so thoroughly mesmerizing? And for a short-term solution, how about giving Virender Sehwag a game or two?

Watched Bhool Bhulaiya over the weekend, and I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Akshay Kumar really has come into his own after all those long, tiring years of insipid roles and lame acting. The show-stealer, however, is undoubtedly the magnificent Vidya Balan who's possibly brought the most engaging charisma and endearing screen presence to the movies since the days of Madhuri Dixit. If only Bollywood was a little kinder to its less beautiful citizens....

Incidentally, if you're at all planning on extracting revenge from a particularly disagreeable adversary, you'd be well-advised to gift him tickets to the movie Beowulf. The poor guy won't know what hit him.

One Time Too Many

We know you like poking fun at Bollywood, Farah Khan, but it's getting a little old now. It all started, of course, with the hysterical Woh Ladki Hai Kahan number from Dil Chahta Hai. Main Hoon Na took Ms Khan's derring-do a step further; the subtlety and the sheer audacity of the humor carried it far beyond the most accomplished Hollywood spoofs in memory and, in my opinion, it can now be bracketed among the masterpieces of the decade. Yes, it's worked before, but that doesn't mean it will work every time. Om Shanti Om, Farah Khan's latest offering, is everything that a typical Diwali blockbuster ought to be, and yet it's remarkably unsatisfying, almost as though she had all the right intentions and cinematic techniques in mind but forgot somewhere during the making that she was making a full-length Bollywood movie, not an MTV gag show.

Om Shanti Om is as extravagant as they get - the huge sets, colourful songs and charismatic stars are all dutifully in place, as are the melodramatic lines and intentional over-acting. The plot is ludicrously fantastical - an unabashed mixture of Madhumati and Karz, if you will. Shahrukh Khan hams like there's no tomorrow, Kirron Kher weeps buckets as the quintessential tragic mother and there's also a disarmingly gorgeous newcomer in the form of Deepika Padukone to keep things electrified. In short, everything that made Main Hoon Na such a delightful charmer is recreated in this nearly 3-hour long saga. If only Om Shanti Om was half as entertaining as its predecessor. I'm sorry, but Farah Khan has some major explaining to do as to why exactly the first half is as boring as it is. The 70's may have been a fascinating time in the Bollywood studios, but Ms Khan's depiction of the same is decidedly not. Forget the tongue-in-cheek potshots at melodrama, lovers playing lousy tennis and garish costumes - if it doesn't keep you entertained, it's all a waste of time.

The second half is considerably better, and thankfully moves at a lively pace, but again you always get the nagging feeling that something's missing. The almost non-stop sprinkling of stars in funny cameos does manage to perk things up appreciably, but things go flat the moment the movie comes back to the central plot. For some reason, the movie decides to take itself more seriously as it approaches the climax, with expectedly disappointing results. A Madhumati-inspired culmination wasn't exactly the brightest idea, and the end credits, with every single crew member getting to dance absurdly for the cameras, is downright annoying. An overdose of MTV, perhaps?

The songs, for once, DON'T slow down the pace of the movie (surprise, surprise!), and that's mainly because all of the songs have a definite purpose and carry the story forward (with the exception of Deewangi Deewangi - but then again, weren't the "31 stars" the biggest attraction of the movie?). Moreover, the fact that Farah Khan is a choreographer par excellence is a major plus point too. Main Agar Kahoon has to be one of the best shot songs in recent times - one of Farah Khan's finest works ever. Dard-e-Disco is a bit of an eyesore, but the rest of the songs are fairly tolerable, and coming from a sworn song-hater (only in the middle of a movie) like me, that's gigantic praise. You've got at least one department of Bollywood filmmaking completely covered, Ms Khan.

Comparing a director's product with his earlier works isn't always the fairest thing to do. However, when the director decides to repeat or even refine his earlier methods, then comparisons are justified and more importantly, inevitable. And I can confidently say that Om Shanti Om's biggest drawback is that its director is the maker of a gem like Main Hoon Na. While Main Hoon Na was fresh in its appeal and made you laugh hysterically, Om Shanti Om looks repititive and only manages to make you chuckle, and that too sporadically. Again, while Main Hoon Na had a concrete, if laughably unrealistic script (as intended), Om Shanti Om suffers from jerky writing and an excess of needless subplots. And of course, someone needs to tell Ms Khan that the whole spoof-cum-tribute thing looked cute the first time; the second time it only comes off as stale and unimaginative. Please, Farah Khan, get down to some serious filmmaking next time; brand SRK can only save you so many times.

P.S. All of these disparaging comments about Om Shanti Om have stemmed mainly from the fact that I absolutely loved Main Hoon Na. If you haven't watched or worse still, absolutely hated Main Hoon Na, then the chances are that you might just thoroughly enjoy Om Shanti Om.

P.P.S. Deepika Padukone might just be the next big thing of Bollywood. If only she had a remotely pleasant voice to go with her stunning looks (and this is assuming that her voice wasn't dubbed for the movie).

P.P.P.S. Akshay Kumar is positively hilarious in his two-minute role. The movie might actually be worth watching just for his brilliant turn.