“Frankly, my dear…”

“Frankly, my dear…”

Raees, 2017

It didn’t do anything for me: the bright lights, the throw-back fancy dance numbers, the ripped Shah Rukh Khan defying time and age, and certainly not the story.

Speaking of story, let’s tackle that up front, shall we?  We know from experience that he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword, so that’s that.  And since that was established quite early on, there wasn’t too much left to ponder on that count.  And that would have been fine to not have any suspense over the inevitable end had there been something more enduring, something more remarkable, something more redeeming, something a little more ‘raees’ than the very ordinary, very long, and actually very disappointing story altogether.

And so, I shall spare my breath and your attention, and tell you that you’d be better off sparing your twenty bucks, nay, make that more like twenty-five bucks if you think you need to go in with the popcorn or the Raisinets.  No “Laila main Laila” however slick the song or the beat is worth your time or energy when there isn’t anything more to hang your hat or your dupatta on.


Silence, 2017

I kept telling myself I needed time – lots of time – to process this film in order to even attempt to write a review of it.  Because so intense and multi-layered of a moral and philosophical treatise is this film, I was afraid I would not be able to truly capture the spirit and essence of the story.  Or the many underlying implications attached to it.

And yet, I could not wait more than forty-eight hours to attempt a write-up because so compelling are the themes of this film, I am beside myself trying to “process” them all, and to put into words the impression it has left on me.  I can only imagine what having first read the book – that the film is based on – might have on the viewer.  But having not had that advantage, I shall unequivocally share what I believe to be my thoughts and feelings about this movie.

This is a story of two young Portugese missionaries – played so very masterfully by Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver – young and resolute in their Catholic faith and mettle, determined to carry on the work of their predecessor and mentor Father Ferreira (played by the most sublime Liam Neeson). Ferreira is believed to have renounced his faith in deference to the brutally anti-Christian aristocracy of Japan.  How could it be that such a pillar of faith would have turned apostate in the face of persecution? Was his faith so weak? So shallow? So trivial? Was it never anchored in anything larger and stronger than himself?

These are no ordinary questions, nay, these are extraordinary questions, and require extraordinary courage to seek answers.  What follows is a quest that leads the two young missionaries on a soul-searing journey in seventeeth-century Japan – an ancient land in which the Buddha is revered – and the two discover an overwhelming love of Christ that compels the natives to wilfully accept and adopt the Christian faith. Furthermore, they learn that this faith has evidently taken so strong a root in them, they are willing to forsake all and be subject to dire consequences, even persecution and death.

Behind the grand and rugged scenery of Japan’s countryside and the resolute will of the ruling class to stamp out all such traces of Chrisianity, there is an utterly moving, robust story that Scorsese delivers with absolute earnestness.  And just when you think nothing can shatter the will and devotion of the two young missionaries to their cause, we slowly begin to understand how and why Father Ferreira might have apostasized.

The horrific persecution of the natives for their Christian faith leaves very little to the imagination, and yet, the weighty moral and ethical dilemmas faced by the two do not render them cynical or syrupy.  On the contrary, their decision to eventually give in to apostasy may be viewed as a very matter-of-fact and humane way of addressing their circumstances.

This is not a crisis of faith; this is not apostasy.  This is pure love in action that is channeled by their belief in Christ that speaks just as loudly, if differently, to the non-spiritual as it does to the faithful.

For it is in this uniquely unconventional exemplification of God’s love that we see how great a sacrifice is actually being made.  And how great a faith is actually being upheld and persevered.  It begs the question as to what you yourself might do under the same circumstances.

And if one were to follow that line of thought: what would Christ himself do?

The only silence in ‘Silence’ is the eardrum-splitting kind of silence that sinks to the utmost corners of one’s conscience in knowing that apostasy is a much-nuanced concept, and sometimes, in life, only when things are upended in the most unimaginable ways, is there meaning, and truth, and life.


Because the Movies Demand It

Because the Movies Demand It

Lion, 2016

I don’t suppose I’ve ever made the claim to have cried through an entire movie – not because it was horrible, but because it was so very good – until I saw this beautiful story called Lion.

So stricken was I at the many facets of the film that captured so very skillfully multiple stories spread across continents, that it is truly difficult to pinpoint which pieces of the story appealed to me the most.  How does the universe sometimes conspire to align the stars in such a way so as to allow for us mere mortals to see with the aid of hindsight how the trajectories of our lives have intersected here and there, at this place and that, with this one and that one, and has finally caused us to be alive to reflect upon where we are today.  How does that happen?  Is that Providence? The hand of God?  There is no other explanation.  At least not one that is as convincing to me as that.

This is a film that prompts us – sometimes gently, other times violently – to reflect on the underlying existential themes of the human condition, and leaves us in awe of the inexplicable.  How does the human heart have the capacity to love and yet to turn away from love, nay, to nurture evil in one’s hurt? How does the human heart long for learning of one’s biological origins and doesn’t stop seeking it out? How does the human heart have the capacity to love not one but two women so much that the line between birth and adopted mother are truly blurred?  For these and the very many other heart wrenching issues of social evils in India deeply-rooted in poverty that were highlighted, I raise a glass to the creators of this thoughtful film.

And if you’re wondering about the title of the film and what it stands for, I’m afraid you would need to be a native speaker of Hindi to begin with, and even then, would need to wait until the very end of the movie to truly understand.

This was a lovely Christmas Day viewing in the company of my family, and other than crying my eyes out, never before did I walk out of a movie theatre feeling so very privileged to be alive.  And loved.  And whole.


Dangal, 2016

It’s long.  But that’s how Bollywood operates.  In a long and drawn-out way.  Only there are times when the story and style of the movie mercifully outshine the length of the movie, and you walk out feeling not-so-bad about the three hours of your life that you’ve just given up and know you will never get back.  That’s the kind of movie Dangal is.  You walk out feeling a small sense of pride in the realization that perhaps nothing is really impossible; that if you really want something, there’s nothing to stop you from getting it; and that hard work, determination, and the support of family are perhaps the true ingredients for success.

And so, you sit in the dark of the movie theatre, and if you’re a woman who has followed Aamir Khan since his debut some twenty-five years ago, you sit and you smile, and you think of how very talented Aamir truly is, and how well he has aged, and how secure he is not basking in all the limelight, but instead in letting the women in this story shine even brighter than himself.  And you take in this sports-drama set in a small village in Haryana, just miles from where you grew up yourself, and you marvel at the odds that had to be truly beaten – by the father of these two young women and the young women themselves – to train to compete and win in one of the most masculine of all sports worldwide, but especially in India:  wrestling.

This past year must have certainly been the year of the woman and the girl-child in Bollywood, because this film came soon upon the heels of yet another similarly themed story starring another Khan of Bollywood.  But let it not be said that if you’ve seen one sports-drama, you’ve seen them all, because this is not so much a story of women excelling in a man’s sport, nay, a man’s world; this is a story of the power of family that holds up through thick and thin, and refuses to give up despite lacking all the accoutrements one assumes are necessary for success.  Things such as education, wealth, connections, and the like.

Kudos to all the other actors who deliver convincing performances.  True to form, there’s a lovely soundtrack to the movie as well, and I will affirm that the Haryanvi countryside was familiar and authentically portrayed.  There were some sections of the story that I personally found a little troubling, but I shall not draw attention to parenting styles as I have not walked in the shoes of the father whose intense belief in his daughters and even in himself ultimately bring about success and satisfaction beyond belief.

Great job, Aamir, you’ve proved you can play a variety of characters over the years.  To the two young women:  Brava, and thank you for portraying true grit that will undoubtedly inspire many a young girl in India.





“Mommy, this new Jungle Book movie ain’t too bad!”

“Mommy, this new Jungle Book movie ain’t too bad!”