Kaminey

Now Playing: Vishal Bhardwaj - Pehli Baar Mohabbat

When Zac Efron decides it’s time to shed his pretty-boy image for something more macho, he would do well to find a project like Kaminey, which manages to simultaneously make a hard man out of Shahid Kapoor and establish his acting chops.

Charlie is a small-time thug with big-time dreams while Guddu is an earnest social worker who passes out prophylactics to prostitutes. They’re also identical twins who haven’t spoken to each other in years and have non-identical speech impediments – Charlie lisps and Guddu stammers. Is it a coincidence that Charlie, who admits to taking the fast and dirty road to riches over the slow and steady, turns his s’s to f’s? Probably, but the picture is full of tiny delightful details like that one.

Vishal Bharadwaj abandons the Shakespearean roots of his previous films for a Tarantino-esque sensibility and a denouement that seems like vintage Guy Ritchie. As good as Omkara and Maqbool were, it’s nice to see that the director is capable of playing in a different sandbox. The acting is generally good; apart from the above-mentioned Shahid Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra shines as Guddu’s pregnant girlfriend Sweety and Amol Gupte is riveting as her politician /goonda brother, professional marathi manoos Bhope Bhau. Chandan Roy Sanyal has less screentime as Mikhail, the youngest member of a Bengali fraternity of crime, but his relationship with Charlie is fascinatingly ambiguous, fraternal with a definite homoerotic subtext.

There were three things about Kaminey that I really liked. First, there were actual, literal Chekov’s guns – I actually squealed, “CHEKOV!” when the guns made their second appearance. Secondly, there’s a scene where Guddu is being held by a pair of corrupt policement for questioning. At this point, the audience expects violence, pliers, electrodes, or any manner of torture from the policemen, who are desperate anything to elicit the information they believe Guddu has – which he doesn’t, as they really want Charlie. To complicate things further, there’s Guddu’s stutter, which worsens with stress. However - instead of increasing the physical inducement to get Guddu to talk, the senior policemen tells Guddu to sing, which reduces his stammer drastically and is not, surprise, surprise, a segue to a song sequence. Finally, while the hilarious irony of a guy who preaches safe sex knocking up his girlfriend never ceases to amuse, the Guddu- Sweety relationship is, though stormy, tender and loving. She manages him, and he’s happy to let her, and you really feel that these two crazy kids might make it after all, despite all the kaminey around them.

Let me whisper in your ear

Now Playing: Bell X1 – Flame

Five things you don’t know about me – at least, I hope you don’t, as otherwise this is going to be rather pointless –

1. I’m not at all a very sociable person. Anton Chekov wrote a story about a man who bets a large sum of money on his being able to stay in completely solitary confinement for fifteen years, with books and food provided. This was part of the English Lit curriculum in grade 9 or 10 and even then, this didn’t seem like such a bad bet to me. I enjoy company when I have it, but I’m just as content with reading material and music.
2. I have a secret weakness for shiny, frilly clothes – probably in reaction to the fact that the clothes I wore as a child were rather sober (thanks Mum & Dad!) Generally, I’m able to keep this magpie-like craving under control, but every now and then – as the budget allows – I come home from the mall with awfully loud purchases that I never wear, but would never, ever dispose of.
3. I’m not talkative because of any innate gregariousness, it’s just that I babble when I’m nervous.
4. When I had access to a lending library, my preferred genre was crime – the grislier the better. At one point, I even had this really macabre interest in true crime. Now that I’m thousands of kilometres away from the TPL, I have to confine myself to whodunit TV shows and am fast running out. Recommendations, anyone?
5. When fêted musicians or albums leave me cold, I always feel the weakness is in me. Why is it that The Arcade Fire does nothing for me, musically speaking? Do I have a tin ear? Is this because I watch MTV? Why do other people like the Strokes so? Why am I not in on this?

Voilà, go forth and ponder the sheer triviality of these 'revelations,' and feel free to tag yourselves if you feel like playing.

"On what planet do you spend most of your time?"

Following on from this post -



Marry me, Barney Frank.

For a Brit's take on how Universal Healthcare is supposedly The Return Of The Nazis, go here.

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

 

Now Playing: Fleet Foxes – Quiet Houses

 

 

(Continued from last time - The family has arrived home with the new addition.)

 

Me: Be careful! SUPPORT THE NECK! IT'S DELICATE!

Brother: First of all, it's an iPod, not a baby, and second of all, THERE IS NO NECK YOU DEMENTED CREATURE.

Me: Don't listen to your uncle, my sweet baby, there's a dear. (aside) Don't hurt its feelings! It can't help being neck-challenged!!!

Brother: …

Me: Now that you're home, we have to get you all charged up, don't we? YES WE DO! OH YES WE DO!

Brother: Oh sweet Jesus Christ, she's baby-talking the iPod.

Parents: We find it's best to keep quiet and hope that she doesn't do this in public. Much.

Brother (is aghast)

Me: Is it time for baby's first feeding?

Brother (is even more creeped out): By that horrible metaphor, I take it you mean to upload your music now?

Me: (covers iPod's headphone port) Do you mind? Baby doesn't know it's not…

Brother: ALIVE? SENTIENT?

Me: I was going to say organic, but those things too.

Brother: Heaven help us all when you really do spawn.

Parents (see their hopes of grandchildren evaporating)

 

(fast forward to a few weeks later)

 

iPod: feeeeeeeeeeeed meeeeeeeee….

Me: But! I have no more CDs left! I even ripped my Teach Yourself German CDs to feed your unending hunger AND THAT WAS TWO HOURS AGO YOU FIEND.

iPod: Denkst du, das genug war???

Me: Um… Ja?     

iPod: NIE!

Me (contemplates iPod-icide)

iPod: There's always the cheap CD bin at Carrefour.

Me: What? And soil myself with Best of the 90s: The Hits You Love Performed By Underpaid Soundalikes?

iPod: Du hast KEINE WAHL.

Me: Oh, Woe.

 

[German bits:

Did you think that was enough?

Um… yeah?

NEVER!

You have NO CHOICE.]

Open Letter, or, a Clueless Canuck Seeks Answers

Now Playing: Friendly Fires – Lovesick

For all that the United States of America is Canada’s closest trading partner, our cultural brother-from-another-mother and the South to our True North Strong And Free, there are aspects to American Culture that I find unfathomable.

First of all, what is up with the one-dollar bills? This may seem a trivial point to many, but one of the things that really feels ‘alien’ about the US – when visiting from Canada –is the one-dollar bills. Why hasn’t there been a movement en masse to Sacagawea dollars?

More seriously, I have trouble understanding the mindset of people who do not think that universal healthcare is a right – who believe that adopting universal healthcare will turn America into a third-world country like Canada. Gee, is that why we’ve been calling Scarborough Scarlem all these years?

Why isn’t healthcare seen as a fundamental essential that everyone has the right to, like education? You’ll educate a child at government expense, but someone with a life-threatening illness has to shift for themselves? Alright, I’m unclear on the exact working of the US system – if you’re uninsured, are you treated at all? Or do you get treatment and then get slapped with a giant bill afterwards – and if you had the money to pay that, wouldn’t you have gotten insurance in the first place?

Answer me this - why defend the right to bear arms, but not the right to universal healthcare?

It is almost fashionable in Canada to complain about our healthcare services – the waitlist to see a specialist can run more than a month – but atleast we’ll never be in the position of not being able to afford cancer care.