A Flawed Masterpiece

Life was so good back in school.. Always had plenty of time to watch movies and read books. Now, on most days, I have just about enough time to catch some sleep. Just about.

But, my cleverness and ingenuity led me to a solution – I started watching movies in episodes! Isn't the idea brilliant? J (my ineffectual attempt at sarcasm duly noted, I hope). Anyway, I saw Burn After Reading over a 2-week period, and the comedy didn't flag. I saw Slumdog Millionaire over a similar span of time, but that was because I found it too boring for one sitting. Speaking of Slumdog, I don't know how many people were shocked or pleasantly surprised that it won an Oscar, but I certainly was. And I set out to provide a basis for my incredulity by watching the other popular movies of the year. I'm done with The Reader and Vicky Christina Barcelona, and I must admit that Slumdog is much better. But more on that later…

One director whose work I've seen with some interest over the years is Clint Eastwood. The manner in which he's reinvented himself from a trigger-happy Westerner to a storyteller with other plot-lines up his sleeve has been worth watching. Although I cannot claim to be an expert in his direction style, etc – having watched only 4 movies directed by him; I can pinpoint sufficient differences between his previous movies and his latest slate to be convinced of the metamorphosis.

I saw Changeling a few months ago, and Gran Torino in the past few weeks, and both of them were exceedingly good movies. There's something about the manner in which this 70-year old geezer projects his stories, that forces you to accept every time-worn cliché he throws at you, with equanimity. In both these movies (and previous ones), there have been enough and more instances when any movie-watcher worth his salt would be able to guess the next dialogue or plot twist. But the way Mr. Eastwood tells it, or the way he grunts his dialogues, you decide to give it to him.

Gran Torino is a great movie, period. The clichés are present in full force, true. But the most important juncture, the plot towards the finale, wasn't entirely expected. In fact, it was a particularly apt example of the transition that Mr. Eastwood has been through. Without descending in to spoilers, let me just say that watching the last 15-20 minutes of Gran Torino and Unforgiven in quick succession, one wouldn't fail to appreciate the key differences.

No need for a movie review here, those are abundantly available. But yes, both movies are must-sees, from a master storyteller. Dirty Harry has made a clean break.

The Great Technicolor Dream

An event of the week before last makes this year a watershed in movie history for many. All right, it’s not that big a deal (in fact, I started this post last week, but left it midway because I didn’t feel like writing), but a stellar work of art and movie-making did get its due..

This event of great consequence relates to the Internet Movie Database – a very popular film website, and one whose widget I have unsuccessfully been trying to install on my blog for the past few months. The Shawshank Redemption finally toppled Godfather (and The Dark Knight) as the #1 movie of all time according to movie-watchers who frequent iMDB. Many of you might have your own favorite movies and scoff at this development, but I welcome and completely support it, so I thought it would be apt to write about the best movie I’ve seen (but don’t watch it too many times – the 3rd time was slightly boring).

The movie didn’t have much impact on the box office when it released – it just barely covered costs in its movie-hall earnings. Although nominated for 7 Oscars, it walked away with none. That’s not such a big deal in retrospect, because Pulp Fiction didn’t win much that year either – Forrest Gump trumped everyone else. But this movie slowly caught on to the movie-watcher’s imagination, spreading mainly through word-of-mouth to become the most-rented movie of 1995.

So why do I think this 1994 flick was more special than the rest? The usual suspects are, of course, fine acting, visionary direction and a superlative storyline. But delving deeper, I discover (and I can smugly say that I suspected this all along) something about the human psyche to which this movie appeals like not many others.

Hope is an interesting concept, a deep feeling. It pervades most of our daily lives when we are kids, but our store of hope dwindles ever so slowly but ever so surely, as the years in our lives increase. Which is a dismal thing to occur, for the one good thing that came out of Pandora’s Box is surely to be treasured. The Shawshank Redemption is all about hope – it could very well have had just that one word as its title (which would have presumably improved its box office chances – all that some movie-goers remembered of its name was ‘that rickshaw movie’). Andy Dufresne, a man sentenced to two life-terms in the Shawshank prison, is not guilty of the crime he has been convicted for. And he hopes for redemption – someday, he’ll be free again, and people will recognize his innocence. Whether he gets what he hopes for is another story, and I for one don’t want to be guilty of sparing anyone the amazing experience that this movie is – believe it or not, some people still haven’t seen it (but I know only one such person).

Many movies I have seen lose themselves in trying to execute too many plots and sub-plots – something that this was also in danger of doing. But the superb screenplay ensured that each and every subplot was executed with great finesse, and added something intangible to the poignancy of this epic depiction of one man’s stubbornness towards his fate. That’s one of the beauties of this film to me – the institutionalized librarian, the new kid on the prison block, Andy’s friendship with Red (Morgan Freeman in the role of his life); all made this movie truly memorable.

I especially like one scene (there were many others, but this is the one that lends itself least to the term ‘spoiler’). Andy’s perseverance in procuring resources for the fund’s library finally succeeds, and some old books and records come his way. He locks himself into the jailors’ office, and plays an opera duet on the speakers. The look of rapt enchantment in the eyes of all the prisoners is a testament to the pervasiveness of hope, of the belief that one’s lot will get better.

Red learns many things from Andy. In his eyes, Andy made a simple choice – get busy living, or get busy dying. True, pessimism ensures that you either expect the outcome or are pleasantly surprised. Optimism doesn’t afford such luxuries, but the feeling is its own reward. For that is what makes us human, pushes us to work and back everyday, hoping that some day, life will give us all we wish for.

I told someone recently that people grow up when they realize that their dreams aren’t going to come true. A trifle harsh, I knew. But I realize now that maybe, just maybe, growing up isn’t such a good thing.

Chaos – one reigns in it, one reins it in

So I saw the Dark Knight yesterday (finally), and I immediately rushed home to watch Batman Begins, so I could compare the two – it had been a very long time since I saw the first one. But to my dismay, I couldn't find it anywhere. So instead, let me try to talk about the sequel alone, for I know that when I get time to write again, I would have forgotten about this one as well.

At the very outset, let me opine that Christopher Nolan is brilliant. He doesn't disappoint one bit, and the movie is as spectacular and well-made as any in his illustrious past – Batman Begins, Prestige and Memento. He shows us yet again why Batman is probably the best superhero ever – he has Nolan directing his movies. All week, I kept hearing about how the Joker is simply the best one ever – he puts even Jack Nicholson to shame. I think I am inclined to agree with this – credit to both Heath Ledger and the director, who's made this franchise consistently darker than any other superhero series (I am not counting pretenders like The Crow or The Punisher in the same category). If you haven't seen the movie yet, please don't read this blog (I know the chances of this are slim, given the brilliance of the movie and my scant readership). Your time is much better invested in finding a compatible time when the movie is playing at a theater near you. Additionally, although I will do my utmost not to, I might give away some details that you would be much better off finding out on your own. But if you have seen it already, then go ahead unafraid.

Starting with the tagline, did anyone else surmise as to why it was 'Why … so … serious?'? I preferred the line on many movie posters in Mumbai – 'Welcome to a world with no rules'. Like Alfred and the mob boss told Bruce Wayne, the Joker has no rules. You might try to guess at his motivations, but you would be wrong. Case in point being what the Joker does with his share of the money which he so painstakingly stole back for the mob. Pure chaos, that's what he was about - pure absolute chaos, no sordid childhood, no jilting lover. Mixing pure evil and pithiness, he was a revelation – the scene outside the hospital (with the remote control) and in the prison (where he demanded his phone call) were amazing, or to use words from another recent movie – awesome (if you think you deserve a prize for guessing the name of this movie, then you better get out and get a life). And I bet all the Batmen of the world would be stumped if the Joker tells them, 'You complete me'. Move over Tom Cruise, we have a new romantic in town. I read somewhere that Ledger spent a month in isolation, planning the Joker's mannerisms, tone and voice. I have to say, he's got it spot on. His reaction to the Lieutenant's promotion was spontaneous, and not a part of the script – but everyone who saw the movie would admit that it perfectly added to the Joker's persona.

So what did I like best about the movie? There was no single sequence that clearly trumped, but I can readily name three.

First, the Joker – right from his chuckles as he was being beaten black and blue, to his spine-chilling 30 seconds with Rachel Dawes (I bet it felt a lot longer). They got it inch-perfect and created the stuff of legend.

Second, Harvey Dent's line to the Batman – 'Either die early a hero, or live long enough to be seen as a villain'. This troubles Bruce Wayne throughout the movie, for Batman never became more than an 'outlaw vigilante'. It couldn't be summed up better.

Third, the last 2 minutes. I would be the first one to agree that the new Commissioner's family made it a little melodramatic, but Batman says it the best it could – he is whatever Gotham wants him to be. Never before during his exploits did he ever become the hero that Gotham deserved. Or maybe it didn't.

Live forever … Or die trying

Immortality has gripped the senses of humankind for almost as long as history can remember. Philosophy-wise, Sophie's World (an excellent book by Jostein Gaarder) tells me that the Hellenistic period (circa 320 BC-150 BC) was the very first time that thinkers expounded on the subject of eternal life, and wondered what one would need to do to extend one's life on earth. Since then, many such thinkers have come and gone (evidently, they were as clueless as the rest of us). But that is not to say that there haven't been charlatans who've pretended to have first-hand knowledge of events long before their time. One of the more notable ones was the Comte de Saint-Germain in 18^th century France, who claimed to have lived for over 2000 years. His supposed pupil, Cagliostro, also claimed the same, famously making the ill-thought statement, 'Jesus should have taken my advice'. Ill-thought, because he was subsequently sentenced to death, and so ended his eternity. Many movies have also broached the subject, most recent being The Man from Earth (a decent low-budget 2007 movie). The movie that I shall talk about, however, is The Fountain, a 2006 movie by Darren Aronofsky (of Requiem for a Dream fame).

This movie follows three parallel stories (or two … or one, according to some interpretations). There's probably only one person who understands this very confusing movie completely, and that's Aronofsky (and even that is only an assumption). A look at his previous movies would lead us to very quickly dismiss this movie as 'weird', but aren't we all, at some level, weird? (One thing's clear, I'm probably weird too). So, coming back to the story, it follows the life of a doctor and his wife, who has terminal cancer. It also concerns an ancient fabled tree, which promises the gift of immortality (the Fountain of Life, as it were). The wife is penning a story of a Spanish Conquistador in search of this tree, and she dies with the last chapter unwritten. With her last breath, she tells her husband to finish it for her (to those of you who dismiss this movie as a Hindi potboiler right now, a fervent appeal to persist). But he's in search of immortality too, and only when he gives up trying to bring his wife back from the dead does he realize how to finish the story. What happens in between is very beautifully shot (on a low budget), and needs to be seen to be fully appreciated.

But of essence in the movie is its conclusion. Throughout the movie, the belief is that death is no more than a disease, one whose cure is still beyond the realms of human medicine. The Conquistador's Tree of Life is just a metaphor for this cure, this elixir of life. Like the character in his wife's book, the doctor is also besotted by this notion. But as cynical realists, the audience knows that the real question is not when the doctor will be successful, but rather, when failure will be accepted. Death is, after all, not a bad thing for us non-philosophers who are tired of our mundane lives or crappy jobs or empty schedules or full schedules or blogs with low readership (J). Anyway, the story ends in a manner that sums it up best. The Conquistador sure finds the Tree of Life. But of course, it's not what he thinks it is. See the movie, and let the end surprise you. This was one movie that kept me interested throughout, and yet satisfied me completely with its finale (The Departed is one movie that had only the former quality). And one thing I am sure of is that even the most imaginative of us will agree that no other end would have been more appropriate. A great movie which, unfortunately, won't promise Aronofsky immortality (you've probably not even heard of it before). But well tried, nevertheless…