Movie review: Highway

I watched the movie yesterday and am still amazed at the intensity the Alia Bhat brought to it. My perception of her as rich-girl star kid (that was aided by her début movie) was definitely shattered. She has a splendid pool of emotion to draw from, and uses it considerably well to portray a role that is sure to launch her much more effectively than any Karan Johar movie.

Imtiaz Ali brings out the darker best out of his story’s lead characters. Be it Ranbir Kapoor in Rockstar or Deepika in Cocktail, the characters crafted for them surely present a wonderful opportunity to deliver talented performances. So does Highway and Alia has made much hay out of the sunshine. Highway is a risk. In the current 100 crore-crazy industry, it’s a huge risk to tell a story about Stockholm Syndrome and take out all the masala. As a viewer, time and again, throughout the movie I expected the script to take a predictable (read filmy) turn, and every time, my scepticism was rebuffed, as the story took on a completely different tack. Parts of the movie let slip the awkward attempted balance between ‘commercial’ and ‘art’, but the end product is still a huge step in the direction of good storytelling. One cannot predict how the country’s movie goers will react to a movie that is filled with silence and has minimal song and dance despite a wonderful A.R Rahman soundtrack. In fact some of the most crucial scenes are enacted to pin drop silence. There are large periods of time when the director simply lets you drink in the emotion without any dialogues, and yet I didn’t look at my watch once during the movie. One thing that I found amiss was that for a movie that essentially screams ‘Roadtrip!’ it has a disappointing tendency to keep repeating a montage of the same 5-6 shots of Indian roads.

Alia carries the movie on her shoulders and displays agony and dread thoroughly. Mr. Hooda too deserves commendation for one particular scene where his mask/ façade breaks down and he learns to accept that good things can happen to ‘bad’ people too. On a personal note, highway the movie reminded me of my own personal experiences with suffocation, the road and a certain peace that comes with the ‘thoda aur’ time spent doing what makes you happy unmindful of the consequences.

The first must-watch of the year!

Project Read-a-lot: #5: The Complete Stories of Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka, perhaps the greatest existentialist of his time, wrote several short stories and novels in his lifetime. This book aims to compile the most interesting of the lot, especially those like The Metamorphosis and The Trial. Kafka’s dying wish was that his works be burned, and what a loss it would have been to world literature if those wishes had been carried out. To those who are unfamiliar with Kafka’s style and contributions to the art of the written word, it would suffice to say that he gave birth to a whole genre of writing. Kafkaesque is in fact a word in the dictionary, and I produce it’s meaning from Wikitionary here:

Kafkaesque: Marked by a senseless, disorienting, often menacing complexity. Marked by surreal distortion and often a sense of impending danger. 

Surreal distortion pretty much sums it up. Kafka’s words paint pictures that are so surreal that it is impossible to relate to them completely. Yet, he connects to every individual, somehow, by tapping into the deepest most basic insecurities in the readers mind. His anguish, conflict and emotional brutality converse effortlessly with the readers’ dazed and confused thoughts through a simplistic and frank narration. From the broad spectrum of human emotions, he focuses mainly on parent-child friction, bureaucracy and lovers’ rejection, perhaps due to his own life experiences.

As a child, I remember trying to read Kafka and failing to understand his stories. I believe one can never completely understand Kafka, but this time around I did connect more strongly with the raw emotion he portrays in every sentence. If you are not the kind of reader that immerses oneself in a book, and forgets the world, you will tend to lose track and let your thoughts stray while reading Kafka’s works. Part of the blame goes to the fact that they were originally written in German and English translation, somehow, produces a filtered version of what he wants to say. As a amateur German student, maybe I can try to read his original works some time soon.

This book review would not be complete without producing a few excerpts. Some of his shorts can serve the purpose of a primer to Franz Kafka:

The Trees

For we are like tree trunks in the snow. In appearance they lie sleekly and a little push should be enough to set them rolling. No, it can’t be done, for they are firmly wedded to the ground. But see, even that is only appearance.

The Street Window

Whoever leads a solitary life and yet now and then wants to attach himself somewhere, whoever, according to changes in the time of day, the weather, the state of his business, and the like, suddenly wishes to see any arm at all to which he might cling – he will not be able to manage for long without a window looking on to the street. And if he is in the mood of not desiring anything and only goes to his window sill a tired man, with eyes turning from his public to heaven and back again, not wanting to look out and having thrown his head up a little, even then the horses below will draw him down into their train of wagons and tumult, and so at last into the human harmony.

The Way Home

See what a persuasive force the air has after a thunderstorm! My merits become evident and overpower me, though I don’t put up any resistance, I grant you.

I stride along and my tempo is the tempo of all my side of the street, of the whole street, of the whole quarter. Mine is the responsibility, and rightly so, for all the raps on doors or on the flat of a table, for all toasts drunk, for lovers in their beds, in the scaffolding of new buildings, pressed to each other against the house walls in dark alleys, or on the divans of a brothel.

I weigh my past against my future, but find both of them admirable, cannot give either the preference, and find nothing to grumble at save the injustice of providence that has so clearly favored me.

Only as I come into my room I feel a little meditative, without having met anything on the stairs worth meditating about. It doesn’t help me much to open the window wide and hear music still playing in a garden.

Project Read-a-lot: #4 The Story of my Assassins

There is no doubt that Tarun Tejpal writes with flair and is eloquent in his own urban way. No doubt that the book is capable of capturing the readers’ imagination, transporting them to Delhi, Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. But there’s a certain let down that I have come to associate with most Indian writers when it comes to writing pure fiction, be it Arvind Adiga or even Arundhati Roy.

In my personal opinion, the whole endeavour to avoid stereotypes (you know; the boy meets girl route that Chetan Bhagat is so fond of) ends up creating stereotypes in itself. Pretentious is the word that comes to mind. Take for example Mr. Tejpals leading journo character who (of course) has a mistress who is a strong willed young social activist. They engage in coitus that is most often sparked by some political debate and the hate-love sexual escapades seemed ironically stereotypical to me. Not to mention the fact that the author’s penchant for one particular method of sexual stimulation is apparent, and revoltingly so, for a reader who reads this book after last years scandal.

An avoidable read.

 

 

 

 

Project Read-a-lot #3: Hillary Clinton Her way: The Biography

Written by two Pulitzer prize winning investigative reporters, the book piqued my interest. I wouldn’t say I was let down, but the style of writing was quite like a fiction novel involving politics and headstrong leading characters (I was reminded of Jeffery Archer’s Kane and Abel more than once), which I didn’t expect from a biography. Also, the narration of events jumps from highly dramatic to restrained and analytic after every few pages, coming across like a badly coalesced  group assignment where the individual authors’ styles can be easily distinguished.  

That said, I do believe that this book comes close to uncovering the ‘real’ Hillary Clinton, especially since most books written about her tend to be either extremely critical, or else tend to paint a picture of a saintly woman. This book is neither. The authors tend to pick apart every positive and negative incident, especially concerning her decisions and actions. Where she has shown ambiguity and contradictory behavior, they have critiqued her and analysed her state of mind and intentions, and where she has shown steadfast determination, she has been lauded. One should not forget that most Americans read this book when they were still deciding on which democrat to support for presidential nomination. Knowing that, I admit that the books tries its best to present an unbiased account of her personal and professional journey.

Taking a lot of quotes from her autobiography, the book reveals some interesting facts too. This daughter of a typist/homemaker and a textile businessman, initially had republican beliefs which were modified and influenced by notable people in the formative years of her education. The book also makes a revelation about the ’20 year project’ that began in the early days of her courtship with future husband Bill Clinton. It paints a definitive picture of the turmoil in her life that was caused during and post her husbands career ending scandal. It also sheds light on Whitewater and her undeniable tendency to overlook bad decision like her supporting vote for the war on Iraq during Bush’s presidency. On the other hand, the authors spend ample time praising her for her humanitarian efforts.

One thing that I found missing was that the book fails to give clarity on what kind of a president she would make, if elected any time in the future. It gives a great account of all the formative events in her past life, but doesn’t use said insight to construct a plus minus analysis of her future career. But perhaps that’s not an investigative journalist’s job. Nevertherless it would have been great if we could have insight into the possibilities of a woman president for the United States of America. 

 

Project Read-a-lot #2: Full dark no stars

It’s been ages since I read pure, gripping fiction. Reading this book has put me well ahead of that curve now. Stephen King, at the twilight of his career delivers a resounding punch in the form of 4 novellas bound into 1 book. All of them speak of the limits of human sanity, courage, madness, tolerance and fear. Where does sanity end, to let madness take over? Where does one draw the line between courage and stupidity? How long can one tolerate fear before numbness takes over? The novellas try to answer these questions and many more, in a manner much remindful of Mr. Kings Shawshank Redemption heyday.

1922, the first novella describes a harrowing year in the life of a Wisconsin farmer who decides to murder a wife who has strange ideas in her head about how they should take care of their farmland, ideas that no woman has the right to possess. He does so and makes his 14 year old son an accomplice. The domino effect that this act sets in motion is described so explicitly and skilfully that I couldn’t help marvelling at the depth that a writer can achieve while making his readers delve into the elaborate scenes of a work of fiction. Madness prevails and how so!

Big Driver, the second, is about a female author who is raped on her way back from a book signing. We go on to see how she avenges herself by murdering the man. The disgust of the act, the horror of the aftermath, the calm and focused planning, the terror of a mistake in execution, the relief of the compassion at the end. The reader is taken on a white knuckled ride through all these emotions such that the brutality is masked by an innate sense of empathy.

Fair extensions, the next one, for me was the most basic story. It’s about a man who makes a deal with the devil so that he can defeat cancer and live to prosper. But as always, the catch is that to help one man live, another has to suffer. Will a man trade an unsuspecting friends happiness with his own, based on a grudge held on to for years? Good material for the next Adam sandler movie I suppose.

A good marriage, the last novella is about a housewife who towards the golden jubilee of her marriage, discovers that her loving and doting accountant husband is in fact a meticulous serial killer. This one could have gone the Hollywood movie way too, but it deviates by adding complexities and depth that one wouldn’t find in a typical thriller.

Mr. King, in this book, delivers a class act. The thing about book lovers (read fiction lovers ) is that they love being carried away into a world that is relatable yet bizzare, lifelike yet surreal. That’s exactly what this book did to me. Strongly suggested for those who desire a diving trip into the dark recesses of their mind.