Succumbing to the temptation of year-end lists

For the last couple of years, I've stopping doing something that I once thought I could spend a lifetime doing: reviews.

I had set out (in journalism) seriously thinking that, since books and movies were so much fun, there was no better job than to first read/watch, and then talk/write about them. That's what I'd wanted to do, week after week. And initially, I did. For my first job with a web portal's news section. For a youth magazine, afterwards...

Gradually, I came to the conclusion that I lack the true soul of a professional reviewer. My response to most books and movies and music was reduced to very few words - 'nice', 'okay', 'fun', 'loved it', 'bleah!' 'whatever...' ouch'. (In a profession where many of us are paid by the word, this clearly does not bode well.)

Yet, I miss reviewing sometimes. I miss the exercise of describing a creative thing like a book, or a movie. The challenge of using words, as orginally as possible, to describe what could be a very original way with words. The magic of infusing a film review with 'ambience', beyond narrating the bare bones of a story outline.

On the other hand, I find it harder and harder to pass judgement upon any such creative work. The fact that I don't like it means nothing. I am not the world. And if I do like something, that is very likely a reflection upon me - my tastes, my values, my sense of humour, my needs.

Which is why, I've more or less stopped reading reviews. Especially movie reviews, since I realised how upsetting the star-rating system can be. Most publications have a five star rating scheme, where:
5 stars = fantastic/unmissable.
1 star = awful/please-avoid.
1 and a 1/2 stars = so-awful-that-we're-feeling-sorry-for-the-filmmakers.

I didn't think anyone really cared for the reviews and the stars, but now that most cities bank on the educated multiplex audience, it does make a difference. I noticed this year that my aunt and cousins actually refused to go watch a film because the ToI had given the movie only 2 stars. Which was horribly unfair, not just because I wanted to see that film, but that the ToI's reviews are sort of... well, suspect, at times.

I recall a time when I used to look forward to Khalid Mohamed's Sunday reviews in the Bombay edition of ToI. His make-fun-of-everything style, his silly-billy rhyme-shyme was amusing, if not edifying. But then, one day, he reviewed the film Love ke Liye Kuch Bhi Karega. He refused to give it a review or a rating. Not even 1 star. He said it didn't deserve even that!

Since it was an E. Niwas film, we watched it, anyway. It was a very decently made film. I was laughing almost non-stop. (Some people suggested it's lifted from somewhere else in the western hemisphere; I really don't care. That's the newest fashionable thing, nowadays - spot the slightest similarity between any old English film and any new Hindi film, and accuse the filmmaker of 'lifting'... besides, no western movie could ever have had anything as remarkable as Aslam Bhai).

That day, I lost respect for that review-column. Now, I've stopped reading film reviews. I'll read them if I'm curious about the story, or if the reviewer is a fantastic writer. But I refuse to accept reviewers' verdicts, even when ALL of them say the same thing. In fact, if they all say it's great, I get a little suspicious. If they uniformly hate it, I'm immediately curious. For instance, Apharan has good reviews but I'm not too keen on it.

For one, I'm suspicious of words like 'precocious' and 'middle of the road' and 'experimental' and 'breaking new ground' and 'dark' and 'sensibilities'. Over-used words like 'pacy', 'fresh', 'young', 'understated', 'brooding', 'original'.

I'm also irritated with 'We've seen this one before' or 'ABC film can be summed up as UPO meets YZX meets RTS meets CAB'.

My reaction to that is: "Yes, we've all seen everything there is to see, they say there are only 8 original plots on earth.... And if ABC film is suggestive of mixed elements from all these films, clearly, it is not like any one of them; right?"

Similarity of plot is neither a virtue nor a vice. After all, Mera Gaon Mera Desh is very similar to Sholay. But Sholay is a classic that I've seen eight times; most Indians remember each scene, verbatim (some day, I hope to see it on the big screen!). Anarkali had the same subject as Mughal-e-azam. But there's no comparison, is there?
Originality is not always a good thing - I have never seen anything like 'Bal Brahmachari'. I hope to be spared, in the future.
Also, subtlety or understatement is neither a virture nor a vice. Manoj Bajpai in Pinjar was understated to the point of being invisible and inaudible. Amitach Bacchan in Baghbaan was not subtle; he was heart-wrenchingly believeable. When anyone says that performances are 'low-key', I want to remind them that we grew up on and with Bollywood... Low-key?! What makes you think we want low-key? Even Naseeruddin Shah is not really low-key!
Nor is 'pace' any measure of cinematic worth. Dev had no pace to speak of, barring the riot scene, but it's worth the watch.

Also, this whole post has been one long rant against nothing and nobody in particular. I have a suspicion that I've begun to babble. But since everybody's doing their year-end lists, here's mine:

I loved Black and Iqbal. Also Bluffmaster and Bunty Aur Bubli (which I've seen twice for the sheer fun and enthusiasm it fills you with.) Both these movies - like Main Hoon Na - belong to that category of cinema that you want to re-watch when you're feeling down, and don't want to stay down.

I thought Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Maara had a great concept, but was just about rescued by Anupam Kher (I'd have given a lot to have Urmila Matondkar replaced by... anybody else. But I also thought it was a film that deserved to get made). Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi was alright - the word 'hard-hitting' comes to mind - but it engaged only my mind, not my heart.

I have nothing against The Rising. Didn't love it, but I didn't think it was all that bad and I'm still in love with Aamir Khan's moochhein... and the fine wrinkles round his eyes. (pause, sigh deeply) By the way, WHY does everyone go on and on about Madame Kher's cleavage? I completely fail to understand what the fuss was about. There was cleavage, yes, but in the age of Mallika and the silicon brigade... and considering everybody's been watching Baywatch... this should've passed unnoticed. I, for one, didn't bat an eyelash.


[PS - I know I have not linked to all the things and people I should have linked to, as blogosphere etiquette demands, but there are simply too many film and actor names and I don't have the time.]