Desert Rose

Whenever I watch a film, it is always the story telling that fascinates me. I just cannot stop thinking of how they came up with a certain story and developed it into a script. And lately it has been getting better – how an event or a certain something that we never thought was significant enough to be developed into a full-fledged engaging script actually gets made into such interesting films with technicality, creativity and yet realistic nature. And that is one of the many respects I consider myself lucky to be a malayali because Malayalam cinema’s affair with experimentation producing some avant-garde projects featuring both unknown and established stars has been striking our hearts and the box office! So the latest I watched was Parava, the directorial debut of Soubin Shahir. Having spent a significant period living in Cochin and exploring Fort Kochi, it was a feel good watch for the fact it was all happening in familiar frames. During my days there, I’ve come ...

It was indeed a long wait - the kind where almost the whole of the rest of the world had watched it. But we had to wait. I mean obviously – we can take item numbers with bizarre lyrics and objectification of women but the real facets – that is worth censoring, isn’t it? *Item number - A song that can be dropped anywhere in the film with no narrative justification. A scantily-clad woman appears, dances to a cheesy song, often with double meaning, and is never seen again. Oh and it is censor board friendly. More like a product placement (female body) to get the cash registers flowing at the box office. Ever since I walked out after watching Lipstick Under my Burkha, various perspectives have been going through my mind. The immediate reaction was all focused on the stalling performance by each artist and the story telling. It always fascinates me how the writers knit a whole lot of characters and experiences that they probably have met along their journey into a structur...

Certain creations stand the test of time and still weaves a magic.  I happened to watch ‘Nammukku Parkkan Munthirithoppugal’ on television a few days back. The freshness. The magic. It was all as engaging as it was when I first watched it. Then a few days later I happened to see another master piece. This time while watching it, it hit me that much before Deepa Mehta, there was this legend, Padmarajan. Much before ‘Fire’, there was ‘Deshadanakkili Karayarilla’. Unlike the former where the protagonists probably became lesbians because of their uncaring husbands, Padmarajan made no bones about the fact that his protagonists were probably lesbians. Wasn’t he a genius film maker? I don’t know if this film was a success at the box office. Was it? Then yesterday I happened to watch yet another favourite of mine on telly – ‘Thoovanathumbigal’. It is not always that a cinema becomes immensely intriguing and grows on you each time you watch it – there are probably so many inte...