was watched last night. Its a frothy, clean and cutesy love story. Rajpal Yadav is terribly cute and makes one convincing small town boy as compared to his co star Antara Mali who is plain annoying at times.
I have been trying to get in touch with my roots by watching Hindi movies for sometime now. Thanks to Netflix I don't have to go to the local Indian store to get the pirated copies with cover art describing the movie as "bestest from director X" or "actor Y plays hanarable man Z" or even better "with originaal subtitals". Anyway this is not about pirated DVD's with bad English, this is about Indian DVD's in general. What kind of depraved human being/corporation would subject humanity at large to the horrors of Hrithik's gyrations, some nameless, pantyless starlet's acrobatic stunts and a million other such travesties for the first five minutes of every DVD. You cannot fast forward this part and get to the main menu...no sireee!! you have to watch this soul jarring repulsive montage of Indian cultural superiority every time you pop the DVD into the player. Why, Why, Why?
On a slightly different note, I understand that the sudden appearance of pouty, slithering, moaning waif in what was otherwise a murder film till then is called an "item number". I also understand that this is a highly specialized art form practiced by some very profesional starlets (see description above). But here's the bummer - are the singers of these item songs highly specialized too...you know the ones with Ila Arun type hoarse voices? Then what about specialized song writers and music directors? For all I know this could be one highly specialized industry by itself - the item number wallah's. The next time I hear pasher barir Biren Kaku's daughter Neeta practicing classical music in her banshee like voice early in the morning to the accompaniment of an equally unharmonious harmonium, I know what to do. I shall go over and praise her, encourage her (make sure Kakima is within earshot) and then suggest a career in singing item numbers!