Like Yeti, Elma’s was a place I was first introduced to in Hauz Khas Village. The Elma’s in Hauz Khas was (I haven’t been there for nearly a year—possibly more) a good tea place: a nice selection of teas, lovely … Continue reading
Someone once told me “I don’t watch Westerns and war movies. Too much blood and gore, too little character development, and no message to take home. Nothing but guts and glory.”
True, if (and this is a very big, very emphatic if) the only war films or Westerns you’ve ever seen are the straightforward action types (and even among those, old films tend to be far less gory than their newer counterparts—modern Westerns and war films like The Thin Red Line, Saving Private Ryan, True Grit, etc are, on the whole, far more graphic than their predecessors). But there’s nothing to stop a film—irrespective of genre—from also being well-written, from having good characterisation and character development, and from being something more than a battle of “let’s see who’s braver”. Some of the best films—in fact, even the films that I’ve found affirming virtues like humanity, peace, equality, and so on—I’ve seen have been war films or Westerns: Paths of Glory, La Grande Guerra, The Searchers…
My point being, there are films out there that may seem, at first glance, deceptively run-of-the-mill genre film. Then, at closer inspection, they turn out to be something more.
A friend had introduced us to Yeti a couple of years back. Yeti, then, was a small, somewhat cramped little restaurant in Hauz Khas. We went there for lunch with our friend, liked what we ate, told ourselves we’d be back—but never actually got around to returning, just because the logistics were all stacked against another trip. Hauz Khas has become notoriously crowded over the past few years; parking is a pain; and it is, anyway, not all that close to where we stay.
It was therefore with great joy that we greeted the news that Yeti had now opened in Greater Kailash too—less than half an hour from our home, and with ample parking space. Come Sunday, we decided we had to go check it out to see if it was as good as the Hauz Khas one.
Inside Yeti.
I’ve been on countless heritage walks around Delhi, and some of them have ended with going off to a Chaina Ram or a Karim’s or a shop in Parathewali Gali to fortify oneself before heading back home. But I’ve never … Continue reading
When I posted my review of Pakeezah last week, I mentioned that I’d be posting something further about Pakeezah. This is it, and the reason why I rewatched Pakeezah in the first place: I wanted to see, once again, the nuances of the film, before I got around to reading Meghnad Desai’s Pakeezah: An Ode to a Bygone World (Harper Collins; 2013; ISBN: 978-93-5029-369-0; 152 pages; Rs 250).
Some months back, I’d posted an article here about some interesting architectural elements you can find in medieval monuments in North India, including Mughal monuments. Kangura battlements, for instance, and damaagas, from which boiling pitch could be poured on to … Continue reading
Whenever people ask me what my movie blog is about, I say pre-70s cinema. Pre-70s, yes, but with a few (very few) exceptions, and those are films released in the very early 70s, but with a distinctly 60s feel to them. Pakeezah is the example I invariably give: a film released in 1972, but with an aura that’s recognisably of an earlier period about it, whether it’s in the fashions, the actors, or the overall look of the film.
Since I generally steer clear of reviewing very well-known films, the format of this review is going to be slightly different from my usual film review. I’ll begin with a much briefer synopsis than usual, then go on to discussing—in far greater detail than I normally do—what I liked about the film, what I didn’t like, and sundry other musings regarding Pakeezah.
What is a country to do if its economy suddenly takes a nosedive? What if the country’s sole source of income is a product that’s suddenly no more in demand? Are economic reforms in order? Or a smart political move?
No; I’m not talking a 1950s tale of courage and enterprise in the face of economic disaster (not in the way one would’ve expected, at any rate). Not when you know that the star of this film—in a triple role, too, one of which is a woman—is the inimitable Peter Sellers. And not when you know that it revolves around a fictitious country, supposedly the smallest in the world, which decides that what its economy needs for a turnaround is to declare war on the United States of America.
Yash Chopra’s debut as a director, Dhool ka Phool is unusual in a lot of ways.
Leela Chitnis, for instance, is not a coughing-her-guts out (or basket-making) pathetic old mum.
The hero and heroine travel by train—and that too in trains that go over bridges—without the train falling into the river or crashing and the protagonist losing their memory in the process. Or being given up for dead.
And two people in love in the first half-hour of the film end up moving on in life and not loving each other till the end of time.
On the flip side, it does have a long-lost mother feeling an inexplicable affection towards a strange boy, who for no reason that he can fathom, instinctively calls her “Ma!” It does have a thunderstorm at the end of a love song, with the expected consequences [read: raging hormones, libido and “Humein aisi galti nahin karni chaahiye thhi”]. And it does have Manmohan Krishna being the goodie-two-shoes who stands up for what is right and righteous.
Seven years back, on a trip to London, we decided we had to eat at a Michelin star restaurant. The choice, after much juggling between budget and location and cuisines we like, ended up being Yauatcha, in Soho. We loved … Continue reading
Dustedoff 