Cannes Continued

We are officially shocked. And by we, I just mean me, because this isn't a co-authored blog (but it just sounds so much cooler to say 'we'). Just when we were giving Ash kudos for finally premiering well at the Cannes Film Festival 2009, she's gone ahead and outdone herself by looking even better on Day 2!

At the premiere of Spring Fever, Mrs. Rai-Bachchan was spotted in a wonderfully contemporary but classy gown from Elie Saab Spring 2009. The soft color is perfect for spring time, and the hair is simple as it should be with a gown that already draws attention via the draping at the bodice and add-on sleeve. The way the gown flows is the stuff enchanted fairy tales are made of.


Furthermore, hubby Abhi is back in full form with a normal black suit and striped tie. We'll bet (there's another 'we' :-)) no one will be confusing him for the hired help this time around!

Covering Cannes

Cannes Film Festival regular Aishwarya Rai-Bachchan finally got her Red Carpet right at the opening day of the 2009 edition. After numerous misses in the past, coupled with just a few hits, the former Miss World looked stunning in a strapless white Cavalli with a regal ruffled train. Not crazy about the up-do, as it is too much given the weight of the dress, but totally digging the bejeweled Swarovski clutch. Looks like India's original international film star is not about to be outshone by the combination of Freida Pinto and her acclaimed stylist George Kotsiopoulos.






Now why Abhishek Bachchan opted for the waiter look is rather puzzling, much as the white blazer is in line with the Bachchan family's 'match much' fetish. Shahrukh Khan tried and failed with the same look at the 2009 Filmfare Awards, but clearly celebs seldom learn from each other's mistakes.

Get to Know These Friends

The first Hindi film shot almost entirely in Miami with two male leads pretending to be gay to impress a girl and obtain residency. This may sound like a recipe for disaster, but don't let the premise fool you. First things first, Dostana is by no means a remake of the atrocious I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry. Perhaps the only similarities are that two men are pretending to be gay and at some point they receive a surprise inspection - otherwise their motives for doing so and the core purpose of the film are miles apart. Also, while the latter was sadly unfunny, this outing is supremely entertaining, even if logic ceases to exist in the proceedings.

It is best to let the story unfold before you, not to mention it is hard to say too much without giving away too much. Let it just be said that the film works, and how, because of the chemistry of the three main protagonists: Abhishek Bachchan, John Abraham and Priyanka Chopra. The men, of course, deserve special applause for a camaraderie that carries the film on its shoulders. But, it is important to note that the film is not a dostana of two friends, but of three. The scenes shared between the three of them are enough to have you convinced that there is a genuine affection here, a friendship that perhaps evolved as much for them while filming in Miami as it did for their characters while living there.

But chemistry alone is not enough, and luckily the three seem quite aware (for the most part). Abhishek, after a long, long time, hits the nail on the head as the flamboyant, obvious woman in the err, 'equation', if you will. He is downright hilarious and a scene-stealer throughout. His counterpart, John, is used mostly as eye candy and is perhaps as much on display as you've ever seen him, but then I am yet to hear any females (or some males) complain. Although he may not get to 'act' as much, he is endearing enough with that perpetual look of simultaneous innocence and cheekiness.

Priyanka looks downright gorgeous and is also on ample display, but somehow she never once manages to look cheap. It's an achievement in a day and age where many actresses are about excessive skin display but come across vulgar rather than sexy. Priyanka, on the other hand, is dressed like the average liberal girl in Miami, even if there are one or two occasions in the film when you wish she were just wearing some clothes. But then if John refuses, why should she concede? In terms of performance, she picked up where she left off in Fashion. Some may not see anything 'special' in this one, as it lacks histrionics, but that is precisely why it is a good one: it is understated and natural in a film that is otherwise deliberately over-the-top.

Her character may seem clueless at times, but one wonderfully realistic thing about her is that in perhaps one of the film's best scenes, she reveals that she is 27, single, professionally unsatisfied and incomplete. Anyone who's not a liar would have to admit that he or she has come across several such people in their lives, namely women, and thus it's a nice touch that typically goes unmentioned in films that like to churn out 'perfect' characters.

Special mentions to Kirron Kher and Boman Irani for their hilarious supporting roles; Bobby Deol, sadly, is one of the flaws in terms of the casting. He does an okay job in his rather lengthy role, but at 38 he seems out of place in the larger scheme of things. His role also seems tailor made for someone like Arjun Rampal, who may only be a couple of years younger, but career wise is a whole generation younger.

Other flaws are that the film does drag in the end. Also, the plot itself has its share of loopholes, but romantic comedies are not the best to dissect in terms of content now, are they? Some have complained that the portrayal of homosexuals is entirely stereotypical, as they are all made to be flamboyant and sassy. But kindly look at the lead pair: while Abhishek portrays exactly that, John's character has been written to behave as normal, the 'man' in the relationship, save for one scene where he feels pressured to be slightly more obvious.

Also, for the first time in the history of Hindi films, the foreign actors are NORMAL. They are not strange Eastern Europeans posing as Americans or Brits, they do not have absurd accents or shout their dialogues or make comments about how Indians are the greatest people on earth. They just play their parts, and that in itself is a great achievement for an industry that always makes a mockery of foreign characters, often making you wonder if they picked up any random from the street.

The music grows on you; you may have never thought you would find yourself singing Desi Girl or Maa Da Laadla in your head, but the film has that growing effect on you. Jaane Kyon is the soul of the film and is the perfect way to depict the evolving friendship of the main three. Shilpa Shetty may be aging, but her figure remains as enviable as ever in the opening Shut Up and Bounce track.

Verdict? Go see it, because after a long time there is a comedy that is genuinely funny and a film that relies on pure, Bollywood entertainment, one that may just have repeat value at that, and characters that you actually do care for.

Feels More Like 'Rona'...

My initial thought was that Goldie Behl's much-hyped Drona may actually make for decent fair. Abhishek Bachchan and Kay Kay Menon reunited post-Sarkar; Little Bachchan also reunited with his Bluffmaster co-star Priyanka Chopra, whom he fondly calls Piggy Chops; ambiguous promos that fail to give away too much information about this mythological/superhero flick; and a whole lot of talk about the amount of money and time spent on this so-called creative venture.

But we all know that creativity commonly bites the dust in the Hindi film industry, hence we are subjected to a wafer-thin plot that does not actually consist of a concrete story, and three caricatures rather than characters. And, of course, originality be damned, because what the director opts for is a car chase, a sword fight, a villain who holds his finger to his mouth (a la Dr. Evil from Austin Powers), a strange Exorcist-style possession of the hero in the penultimate reel and a desi Gandalf...that's right, I said a desi Gandalf.

What's worse is that Abhishek continues his sleepwalk method of acting and relies upon intense looks and mumbling a few dialogues in old-school Hindi. You know, something about yudh, mayan, poshak, Drona...huh? Yeah, we never really got how that was supposed to be a sentence either.

Kay Kay, the gifted actor of Sarkar, Life in a Metro, Honeymoon Travels and Mumbai Meri Jaan, is made to ham like his life depends on it. At times, his humor works, but then after he repeats his 'gustakhi maaf' line for the one millionth time, the audience is rather over it.

Priyanka looks hot and waves around a weird weapon that resembles a dream catcher. See, she can kill people with it, and decorate her home, too! Yeah...right. Except after a year and a half hiatus, this lady has given us what could rank as three of the all-time worst films, i.e. Love Story 2050, God Tussi Great Ho and now Drona. She best hope that the upcoming Fashion and Dostana revive what looks like a sinking career, now that ex-flame Akshay Kumar has found a new 'friendly co-star' in Katrina Kaif.

Also, pray tell, who in the world is Kay Kay even trying to terrorize in the film? We are essentially introduced to only four to six characters, none of whom are victims of the villain's antics. And so one wonders...is Drona really a superhero or a savior? Wouldn't that entail at least one scene where he actually saves someone? Director saab seems more content making him look the look (and by look, we mean an Indian groom-inspired sherwani best fit for a runway than a showdown) and talk the talk (and by talk, we mean silence, because he almost never talks).

Maybe we'll give the film a +1 for the Drona Redux track that is reasonably catchy. Otherwise, God only knows why Abhi baby is attempting a Gene Kelly-esque dance in the opening reels.

Verdict? Drona makes Love Story 2050 look like a masterpiece. Okay, okay...we won't go to such an extreme. But you get the point now, do you not?

A Tale of One Too Many Bachchans

I must begin by saying I found the original Sarkar to be highly overrated. Before the vast majority of you reach for your daggers, I will admit it was good. But to try and remake something so epic as The Godfather series would always leave one treading thin waters, even if that someone was Ram Gopal Varma. Once an esteemed storyteller and director known for delivering critically-acclaimed films like Rangeela, Satya and Company, he for some godforsaken reason lost his marbles and, somewhere along the way, the consequences were ghastly: Darling; Ram Gopal Varma Ki Aag; Nishabd; and Darna Zaroori Hai. While Sarkar Raj, the follow-up to the overblown Sarkar, is a decent attempt at salvaging a fading director's career, it sadly falls extremely short of what could have been.

If Sanjay Leela Bhansali took the color blue in Saawariya and really ran with it, RGV opts for extreme close-ups and shadowy locales in Sarkar Raj. Unfortunately, that is about all he does - shower the audience with playful camera angles, most of the time giving the filming of his story more importance than the characters, dialogues and actual proceedings.

And so we have the Bachchan family, complete with papa Amitabh, beta Abhishek and bahu Aishwarya, coming together for a confusing and seemingly pointless two hours. There is no need to delve into the plot, as it is widely known and can easily be found on the Internet. Essentially it is a concoction of the mafia, a power plant and some caricaturish politicians, with a few Gandhian morals thrown in. Confused? So was I.

Because we are constantly barraged with faces, an overbearing (and repetitive) background score and a number of those splendid moments where RGV chooses to drown out dialogue for music, it is hard to really follow what is happening in the circus that is the Sarkar household or feel for any of the characters, for that matter. From a film-making perspective, RGV's experimentation with the camera is most welcome. But as was the case with Ajay Devgan's directorial debut U, Me Aur Hum, after a while you really have had enough.

The best scenes are often those that draw on the original, such as Amitabh and Abhishek's discussions on Kay Kay Menon's death in the first film (the latter played Amitabh's elder son in the first installment, whom Abhishek himself had to shoot down). Other than that, the climax may come as a surprise, but then the last couple of reels lack any real power.

The worst of the scenes are those in which the tears shed, and RGV opts for the Amitabh Bachchan show, complete with the Yashraj sitar booming alongside his heavy words. Why RGV thought it necessary to transport us to the world of Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham and Mohabbatein is beyond anyone's guess. Isn't this the crime world we're talking about? Surely this is no place for the old headmaster of Gurukul...

Nonetheless, Amitabh of course performs with conviction. He is softer (for the most part) and really takes over in the last half hour or so. Still, one was hoping RGV would have in this case stuck with The Godfather theme and shifted the focus more on Abhishek.

Although it could be that this was made impossible by Abhishek's obvious boredom from start to finish. For any emphasis to occur on his character, the man would have to first actually speak, but God forbid he was made to utter more than a 'no' here and a threat there. Bachchan Jr. can act. He proved so in Yuva and excelled in those affable, Bunty Aur Babli sort of roles. But here, the man simply looks uninterested. He sleepwalks through his role, relying heavily on piercing the camera with his eyes, but let's face it...he is not his father, and it takes a little more than that to garner the audience's empathy.

His wife, on the other hand, is tolerable from an acting standpoint, yet suffers from the most poor character sketch of them all. When she first appears in the film, Aishwarya is depicted as a tough, unyielding sort of businesswoman who has every intention to get what she wants. Cut to all of two scenes later, and she is a teary-eyed lass who falls for the junior Sarkar and suddenly seems to be present in his house, morning, day and night, sitting in on his conversations with senior Sarkar, casually batting her eyelids without so much as two lines. It almost becomes evident that she is there for the sake of being Abhishek's real-life partner, although Mr. RGV would have done well to note that of the pair's five films together, only Guru sent some ripples through the box office.

The rest of the supporting cast comes and goes. Tanisha Mukherjee should very well quit the film industry or take some fast acting tips from sister Kajol. She doesn't really do anything wrong in the film, but at the same time she lacks any screen presence whatsoever (and we all saw in Neal n' Nikki what happens when the girl does try to act).

Verdict? It may be worth the DVD rental, given it is slightly better than the larger amounts of garbage out there at the moment. On the other hand, do we not see enough of the Bachchan trio in the press as it is? You may just want to revisit the old Sarkar or - even better - the old RGV, i.e. the films mentioned at the start of this review.

It's a 'Daag' all right...

Regressive cinema with a capital R is the best way to summarize Laaga Chunari Mein Daag. Coming from the prestigious Yashraj banner and the maker of a gem like Parineeta, it is only fair for one to expect a polished and thoughtful film. Instead we get a hackneyed and misleading waste of time that goes a step further and actually tries to glamorize prostitution, as if it's just another product for perhaps our cricketers to endorse. Personally, I would gladly opt for Om Shanti Om's blatant Maybelline and Pepsi references (Read: Advertising) any day.

Moreover, the film so brutally deceives you. As any innocent and unsuspecting viewer would, you smile as the film's opening reels introduce you to the playful world of two sisters in Banaras, for once shown to be a colorful and inviting city as opposed to its dull and depressing depictions in recent films like Water and Banaras: A Mystical Love Story.

Cut to a few frames later and suddenly Mumbai gets to play the big bad wolf that devoured the elder sister (Rani Mukherjee) for breakfast. In all fairness, she did appear rather plump and thus fair game, so who is to blame here...the hungry wolf or Ms. Mukherjee's personal trainer?

In other words, to save her family from the brink of losing their home to their own scheming relatives, Rani takes off for the City of Dreams to earn the rupees so that her ailing father will give it a rest already about not having a 'breadwinner' son. Of course, when she lands in the city itself she suddenly realizes that there's not much she could do with no degree, zero English skills and...no place to stay. (What ever happened to think before you act?)

Of course, as we know from the previews, she opts to become a high-end call girl instead. So much for the 18 McDonald's branches that now grace the streets of Mumbai...or even the opportunity to clean bathrooms...or pick up trash...oh hell, with looks like hers, she could just pull a Nisha Kothari and start sleeping with Ram Gopal Varma. At least there's a film career to come out of that.

But no, prostitute it is, and what's more is that she is groomed to do so by her "modern, independent" flatmate. After teaching the naive Rani how to apply that liner, walk those heels and flaunt that Manish Malhotra couture, could the roommate not have just pointed Rani in the direction of a modeling agency? In any case, Family Clueless back in Banaras is thrilled that their oldest is somehow raking in the moolah; little do they know that she escorts old, balding men to a suite in the Taj (although Mama dearest, so nicely played by Jaya Bachchan, has a bit of a hunch and chooses to keep mum and drown her woes in ...stitching petticoats).

Of course, Sister No. 2 (Konkona Sen Sharma) turns out to be quite the smarty-pants and lands a great marketing job in the same exact city where her sister leads her clandestine whorish life. Go figure! Somehow, Sister No. 2 also manages to drop the braid and salwar kameez virtually overnight for layers and a power suit. Yeah...right. She also speaks enough English that you wonder why you never heard it before.

To cut a long story short, all's well that ends well. What else is expected when the director decides to pull a Raj Kumar Hirani and have Abhishek Bachchan waltz in as the angelic, do-gooder a la Lage Raho Munnabhai. (In the process, get ready for the most absurd exchange of dialogue you will ever witness in the history of Hindi cinema...do tell me when you will ever find a man who, upon learning that the woman he so dearly lusts after is actually a prostitute, says: "Until today, I thought I loved you. But after learning this, I love you even more" Good God, Abhishek. Did you not see (or count) the men she slept with? The day such a man exists is the day Salman Khan will get married.

Of course, Konkona is given a far more appealing love angle in the form of Kunal Kapoor, who puts on his best "I wish I was Hrithik Roshan" act and comes up trumps as an endearing and more realistic character.

That Rani, Konkona and Jaya Bachchan play their parts well goes without saying. The three are supremely talented actresses who can pull off virtually anything, but sadly they are undone by the ludicrous concept that surrounds the film.

Yes, prostitution is a huge problem in India (and many other countries at that). It is also true that many girls who enter cities with big hopes are often thrown into it by force, but to show Rani being flown out first-class to Zurich and strutting around in pretty clothing is hardly the face of real prostitution. And for her to get a rishta from a rich and handsome man who knew her for all of 24 hours and decided he would love her regardless of her situation is pure and utter rubbish. To feed that image to young girls and make it an okay "go-to" profession when in need of cash is shameful, to say the least.

The saddest part about the film is that it had all the potential in the world. A quality cast, a capable director (he has to have something if he managed Parineeta, or was that film really in fact ghost directed by Vidhu Vinod Chopra?) and a promising beginning...really, the scenes between the mother and two sisters in the first 20 minutes are both lovely and heart-warming. How it turned into such a mess is anyone's guess.

A poor soundtrack doesn't make the proceedings any easier. Barring the introductory song, Hum To Aise Hain Bhaiya, all other tunes are in that all-irritating Hinglish we pray is just a phase that Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya should never have started.

On a side note, Abhishek Bachchan can be as politically correct as he pleases and continue to go on record by saying that his marriage to Aishwarya Rai has caused no friction whatsoever in his equation with favorite co-star Rani Mukherjee, but the painful interactions between the two is perhaps the tale of a failed relationship that wifey Rai clearly disapproves of. Never have Abhishek and Rani looked so void of chemistry.

Verdict? Steer clear of this street corner.

Conjugal Clothing?

Abhiwariya have done it again. After their choreographed salsa dance at Aishwarya's recent birthday, better known as Ash-Bash 2007, the couple we all love to hate graced the audio release of Gangotri in ...matching denim jeans and white collar shirts. The staple yet stale fashion statement notwithstanding, one can only assume they firmly believe that 'the couple that dresses together...stays together'. Cheesy much?

The good news is that the two are looking fit, and Abhi baby is on his way to outgrowing wifey's hair.

P.S. - We neither know what Gangotri is, nor do we particularly care.

Why God Why?

Some films should never be made. They may have all the elements of a good film - a competent director, a reasonably exciting star cast, a couple of catchy tunes and visibly high production values. Nonetheless, I repeat, they should never be made.

Now it is one thing if the script on paper seems like a worthy idea. There are many instances when you watch a not-so-great film and, while you are disappointed with the outcome, you can see how the original plan seemed fine but the execution was flawed.

In the sad case of Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, one can't seem to comprehend how the idea ever seemed appealing to begin with. The film tells the sorry tale of four blithering idiots: Abhishek Bachchan, a smart-talking and good-for-nothing pendu, most commonly found standing around the corners of Southall; Preity Zinta, an absurd and so-called Muslim who simultaneously shouts out in defense of Pakistan and Muslims while also chanting about how she has slept with some ridiculous amount of men; Bobby Deol as a very wooden millionaire who talks in a monotone, clearly reading from the script voice; and Lara Dutta, a French/Indian hotel manager whom it is difficult to understand more than half the time.

Ah yes, there is also Amitabh Bachchan as a horrendously-clad gypsy of some sort - you know, the kind your parents once told you to avoid at all costs? The very sight of him in this film is shocking and frankly, completely unnecessary.

Maybe the characters are somewhat unique, but they are for the most part incoherent and intolerable. The first half of the film - where Abhishek and Preity are telling one another about their (not-so) respectable love interests - is downright unbearable. You almost contemplate switching the film off, but something inside of you wonders if it could possibly get better. Instead, the story goes no where and instead you encounter a 30-minute dance marathon with the same title song reappearing for a second and third outing in this blasphemous enterprise.

One would hope the star quality would lift the film, but the performances leave much to be desired. Abhishek tries very hard, but it's not some fantastic role that can lift the film from the dumps in which it resides. Bobby is a poor excuse of an actor in the first half, but his Mama's boy routine in the second half is far more appreciated. Preity is loud, obnoxious and Botox-ed like there is no tomorrow. It's sad, really, given one of her better performances just came last summer in the form of Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, but it seems that was nothing short of a diamond in the rough. Lara somehow manages to speak in French-accented Hindi and sound plausible - sadly, the act itself is so irritating that it overbears her effort. She's done quite well in the film, but once again - no single actor is about to salvage this disaster.

The music consists of the same song, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, in three forms. The best two are those showcased in the dance contest - JBJ and Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. Bol Na Halke Halke is a very nice song, but the entire sequence involving the song is completely nonsensical and one of the worst attempts at triggering romance in a Hindi film. The less said about songs like Ticket to Hollywood and Kiss of Love, the better. The titles themselves say enough.

The biggest question mark in the film? Shaad Ali. For someone who made his directorial debut with Saathiya, something that was unique, consistent, laden with fine performances and, of course, a musical gem, Shaad has certainly catapulted into an almost B-grade venture. There was an all right Bunty Aur Babli in the middle, thanks to the charm of Abhishek and Rani, again a fun musical score and, barring the climax, an enjoyable ride. Yet how the same director could create such a massacre will perhaps remain the unsolved mystery of his career.

Verdict? Don't even THINK about it.