The Moor's Last Sigh

Songs as Books as Songs

By Dum Spiro, Spero.

I find it extremely hard to give books away. I mean to give them up, and never demand them back. I like to order them on my shelf and bask in their symmetry. Revel in the knowledge that they are mine and only a stretch of the arm away. Contrarily, the only book of which I've given away every copy I've ever owned (five to date) is Palgrave's Golden Treasury. The book is by no means a perfect collection of poetry, it is not a comprehensive work either. However it is a moody and eclectic selection of poems; chosen, according to the author, only for their lyricism. A gift of this book is, to my mind, like the gift of a song. It is like singing Johnny Cash, out loud, with feeling, strumming on a guitar. If I could sing, I would. Since I cannot, Palgrave sings for me.

An Equal Music on the other hand has been a perplexing book. When I first read it, I hated it. And I mean loathed it. I didn't understand it, didn't want to understand it. The characters appeared messed up, unclear in their motivations. It was depressing. The first copy I owned, I gave away to a friend as soon as I could. It was returned to me with the warning that, were I ever to pass around such dark material again, I'd be short a friend. The book sat on my shelf for over a year, suffered a re-read, grew in my estimation as most re-reads do and mysteriously disappeared. The next time I attempted to gift this book out, it was immediately returned. Reason: "Read it. Too fucking depressing. What's wrong with you?". So I was amused when a friend told me how he'd ended up in a relationship with a girl all because he'd been sitting in the cafe of the Prithvi Theatre, reading An Equal Music. Anyhow, now, I feel that An Equal Music is that rarest of rare books that do not remain in one's memory as mere lines or quotable quotes but transcend to something sublime and operatic. It's a book that becomes a song.

How long can you hold on to a song anyway?

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Ten Films that rocked Indian Cinema this Decade (and then ten more)

Category: Movies , Nostalgia By Dum Spiro, Spero.

So a decade is done. We're ten years into the new millennium, into the twenty-first century, ladies and gentlemen! The year 2000, was a year of change; the resetting of the giant numbers from '99 to '00 heralded an era of fresh ideas and signaled a new start. And Indian cinema has lived up to that challenge with style!

I give you, twenty films that rocked the boat; some have been copied and imitated so often that their innovations have passed into cinematic cliché, others pushed the envelope so hard that they were commercial and box-office duds but have become cult classics and have left a lasting impact on the ethos of the industry.

One Score, number Twenty: ‘Pyar Ke Side Effects’

Funny to a fault, this movie even managed a decent performance out of Mallika Sherawat. There's coffee to be had and baby dolls to meet. This movie’s awesomeness is summarized in the scene where ‘crying tips the relationship score-board’.

Last of the Teens, number Nineteen: ‘Dor’

Dor is a simple story which has a deep resonance and challenges the audience. The film is revolutionary in its portrayal of women and brings out the tenderness in the friendship the two leading ladies share.

Age to Grow Up, number Eighteen: ‘Page 3’

Page 3 makes this list primarily for the fact that it’s one of the earliest multiple plot-line films, that works. The acting is spot on, despite the ensemble cast.

Dancing Queen, number Seventeen: ‘Parineeta’

Despite Saradon and “Todh, Shekhar, Todh” Parineeta is a beautiful film. It gave us Vidya Balan, ‘Piyu Bole’ and an authentic-feeling taste of 1960s Calcutta.

Never Been Kissed, number Sixteen: ‘Black’

For a megalomaniac like Sanjay Leela Bhansali to direct a film that feels so immediate that it almost feels like a play (not unlike Bergman) is an achievement on its own. Black was able to create a bond between the audience and the characters which made the film an intimate, personal experience. The scene that defines the film, for me, is where Amitabh switches the bulb on and the light bounces off his face and all over the audience.

Independence, number Fifteen: ‘Delhi-6’

I have yet to meet a person who truly liked this film. I, however, loved it immensely. Possibly because I saw this on DVD, much after the hype (and subsequent disappointment) had waned. The allegory of the Kaala Bandar works at various levels, Sonam Kapoor fits the bill perfectly and AR Rahman proves, yet again, his unparalleled genius.

Valentine's Day, number Fourteen: ‘Waisa Bhi Hota Hai Part II’

The credits acknowledge filmmakers like Tarantino, the Coen brothers and RGV. Need one say more! Yes? Well, Arshard Warsi is pitch perfect, as a drunken writer, allowing for a hilarious and thrilling adventure!

Lucky for Some, number Thirteen: ‘Gulaal’

Anurag Kashyap’s labour of love packs a whopping punch. It’s got touches of everything from Shakespeare to surrealism. As always with Anurag Kashyap, the devil is in the details, quite literally.

Mid-Night, number Twelve: ‘Mithya’

Mithya is a surrealistic pot-shot at the industry and its clichés. It succeeds through some excellent performances and writing. Nothing fits together too well, but that’s exactly how Rajat Kapoor wants it, after all it’s all lies innit?

Helen's Legs, number Eleven: 'Johnny Gaddar'

From the very beginning, even at the Pomfret Masala introduction to the gang one can tell that this going to be a good movie. It’s a well written script, perfectly executed and has some classic acting. What seals the deal in this movie is the phenomenal use of Dharmendra. “It’s not the age. It’s the mileage!”

A Big Fat Hen, number Ten: 'Manorama Six Feet Under'

‘Manorama Six Feet Under’ is that rare film, alongside Omkara and Maqbool, that starts of as an adaptation and suddenly takes a life of its own, to become a masterpiece in its own right, while paying tribute to the original. ‘Chinatown’ couldn't have had a better tribute. As above, the characters are all shades of grey and no-one is entirely sure what's going on, all in the tradition of film-noir. India’s very own neo-noir scene is clearly blossoming.

You are Mine at number Nine: 'Monsoon Wedding'

Possibly, the Indian film that got the most attention and recognition worldwide, at least in recent times, Monsoon Wedding is an exercise in exposing the underbelly of an Indian stereotype that is horribly clichéd and overly glamorized – the Punjabi wedding. In that effort it narrates a truth about India and Indians in a way very few films have been able to.

Mota Seth, number Eight: 'Company'

RGV’s contribution to cinema is immense, and his crowning glory is this film. Ajay Devgan, Vivek Oberoi and Antara Mali are all phenomenal. The songs are catchy, the dialogues quick and memorable and the story, superb. Company, not Sarkar, is India’s ‘The Godfather’.

Lucky number Seven: 'Maqbool'

Pankaj Kapoor acting out of his skin…careful coaching and Godfather reviewing. Tabu and Irfan… reliance on the talent of two amazing actors. Having Om and Naseer as the witches/cops… priceless. The innovation in this film is insanely far reaching; Indian cinema hasn’t been the same post it.

In a fix, number Six: 'Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!'

The white Pomeranian and Paresh Rawal’s multiple ‘deceitful father-figure’ roles, the ‘India’s Most Wanted’ opening, the scene where ‘time stands still and hair goes flying while car takes skid’ all make this film beyond awesome.

Punjab Mail, number Five: 'Dev.D'

For the vivid colours, the tripping digital camera; for Kalki’s lips and Abhay’s acting. For the emoshnal atyachaar, the white strap, the hand-pump, the Twilight Players, the graffiti. For being a crisp, scary and telling portrait of the times.

Murgi Chor, number Four: 'Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi'

For the pain, the hypocrisy. For the 'viva la revolucion', for the bureaucracy. For “I Love You Geeta”. For Chitrangada, Shiny and Kay Kay. For the music.

Buy 2 get 1 Free, number Three: 'Omkara'

For the dialogues. For the fucking dialogues, chootiye! And the murderous look in Saif’s eyes. For shaved heads and the ‘gudda in the gaand’, the dip in the canal, the faulty moped and Bipasha’s moves to Gulzar’s lyrics.

One Little Duck, number Two: 'No Smoking'

For the James Bond ring-tone and Kafka references. For its love of cinema, for its style, for the imagery, for the anger, conceit and laziness, for the thought bubbles, but mostly for telling us what film is and ought to be.

Son of a Gun, number One: 'Dil Chahta Hai'

For its freshness, for its joy, for making us smile, sing, laugh and cry; for reminding us that life is fun and that nothing ever is really serious – definitely not life, nor even death. For starting this whole 'Indian Nouvelle Vague' thing anyway.

This post is inspired by a list here, with which Amber and I disagreed and thus...

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