Aisha: Love the fashion, the girl not so much

I've always found Emma Woodhouse to be one of Jane Austen's most exuberant, winsome creations.

Especially in comparison to Austen's other popular heroines -- the levelheaded Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility) or a self-respecting Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice).

A patronising child-woman, Emma is good-naturedly meddlesome with too much privilege and too little vocation. But for all the advantages bestowed upon her, Emma is a restless creature who offsets her longings and loneliness with her preoccupation at playing cupid.

What I like most about her the most is the self-assured tone of her opinions, however foolhardy, and her delightful lack of enthusiasm for matrimony -- a refreshing departure from the average Victorian lady.

Not so surprisingly, there have been several cinematic interpretations of this 19th century heroine essayed with marvelous distinction by the likes of Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Beckinsale and Romola Garai.

Circa 2010 is a brand new era altogether. And voicing one's opinion or opting for a live-in is no biggie for the fairer sex of Highbury or Delhi. Matchmaking, even so, hasn't lost any of its credibility amidst all this progress and forms the singularly retained essence of director Rajshree Ojha's adaptation of Austen's frothy classic.

And so Emma becomes a Beetle-steering Aisha (Sonam Kapoor) and fashion wears the face of feminism. Considering her sleekly-documented reputation as a star with a penchant for haute couture and vintage pieces, Sonam Kapoor is tailor-made to portray a dazzling cross between Cher Horowitz and Blair Waldorf. An astute knowledge of style is, perhaps, the only genuine counsel she's able to impart to her pet-project, a daft and dowdy Shefali (Amrita Puri) along with the equally (if not more) chic BFF Pinky Bose (Ira Dubey).

Unlike Kapoor who's trapped in the middle, limited by a screenplay (Devika Bhagat) that doesn't ask her tremendous talent for more than a disapproving raised brow or babyish pout, Puri and Dubey have a ball playing the quirky gals on either side of the spectrum. If Puri goes wild by means of her hilarious Punju accent, Dubey is all edge and spice with her fiery sarcasm and steady cattiness.

Boys aren't a neglected lot in this relentless chick flick. To begin with, I cannot imagine a better Knightley than Abhay Deol. Like Aamir Khan, he's fast acquiring the image of someone whose films are something to look forward to. And though it's a relatively uncomplicated role for the actor, it's cool to watch him out of his comfort zone, namely unconventional cinema. If Deol's just downright irresistible, Cyrus Sahukar lends his bumbling Randhir Gambhir a sense of awkward realism making his antics both -- believable and droll. He says some of the funniest lines with such unrehearsed spontaneity, it's most chuckle-worthy.

Ojha's desi Emma dumps the mysterious subplot involving Frank Churchill-Jane Fairfax (the objects of jealousy for both Sonam and Abhay's characters), which means Arunoday Singh (doesn't have a grabbing screen presence) and Lisa Haydon (so hot, so wasted) are as imperative to the plot as Sonam's fancy Dior-dominated wardrobe. Instead she incorporates a teaspoon of Pride and Prejudice that involves an unexpected romantic compromise between two unlikely protagonists. I rather stay ambiguous about this than risk a spoiler.

Long before Ojha conceived the idea of a modern-day remake, Hollywood writer-director Amy Heckerling humorously reworked Austen's book to helm Clueless around a spoilt, wealthy girl from Beverly Hills, high on Alicia Silverstone's breakthrough performance and a still-popular lingo of 'As if's and 'Like, ever'.  What made this contemporary edition such a hit is its remarkably witty script that's got enough cheek and pizzazz to make light of the very superficiality it embarks on. A quality amiss in Aisha.

In its source material, Emma shares an unusually close bond with her father who cannot bear to see her out of his sight even for a day. Because of her confined, sheltered existence she's perpetually on the lookout for new endeavours and matchmaking fits the description perfectly.

It's given that this sort of set-up doesn't fit in today's milieu and that is why Aisha's joblessness doesn't make much sense as opposed to Clueless wherein Heckerling justifies and mocks the inactivity by writing her as teenager in high school.

If one tries to dissociate Aisha from Austen and perceive it as a standalone rom-com, far less faults are to be found. There's much too freshness in its texture, expressions and candour to not be endeared. For those who've read the book, a lot of missing sub-text in the film needs to be drawn from memory. For those who haven't, focus on the glamour.

Beautifully shot (Diego Rodriguez) and packaged (Shruti Gupte) with a fabulous soundtrack (Amit Trivedi) and superlative ensemble cast (including an excellent M K Raina, Anuradha Patel), Aisha, quite often, gets caught up in a self-created tangle of brand-led vanity to ever let one get acquainted to its leading lady.

Yes, I love her clothes (styled by Pernia Qureshi). I love her makeup. I love her black nail polish. I love her hair. I love her heels (also the subject of an amusing episode in the movie). I love her life. I just don't care enough about her. Except that I really want to.

Ratings: 3 / 5



Source: Rediff

Lafangey Parindey music is irresistibly whimsical

He's a crazy fighter cum biker. She's a blind dancer on roller skates. Lafangey Parindey is a maverick romance between One Shot Nandu and Pinky Palkar.

Starring Neil Nitin Mukesh and Deepika Padukone, Lafangey Parindey is a distinct departure for director Pradeep Sarkar who previously helmed woman-centric melodramas like Parineeta and Laaga Chunari Mein Daag.

For his latest under the Yash Raj banner, he replaces regular composer Shantanu Moitra with R Anandh, best remembered for his dazzling albeit underrated work (Main kudi anjaani, Tere pyaar mein) in Sunny Deol-led action flick, Zor. He also ropes in Swanand Kirkire, high on 3 Idiots and Striker to whip magic with his pen.

The soundtrack begins on a high-strung note with Ronit Sarkar throwing in a good measure of attitude and aggression, which bears striking resemblance to A R Rahman's high-pitched crooning, for the definitive title track. While Lafangey parindey is unmistakably rock in genre, there's an attempt to bring in a sense of desi with a balle-balleish sprinkling every now and then.  

Anandh weaves lilting, quirky enchantment to Kirkire's poetic apparitions for the instantly appealing Man lafangey. Mellow is Mohit Chauhan's gift. And he employs it to stirring effect with his soothing rendition of a song amused with the waywardness of love but sane enough to overlook the drawbacks. A racy club mix follows but we'll go with the original any day.

Animated bonhomie marks the soul of Dhatad tatad. High on rhythmic verbatim and bombastic philosophy, this manic merger of street-style percussion and sleek rock guitar is, thankfully, not all noise. Anandh's adept arrangement bolstered by Shail Hada and Anushka Manchanda's buoyant vocals ensures Dhatad brings the house down.

There's a great deal of introspection and description in the songs of this enterprise. And so the unbound temperament of Lafangey Parindey's leading characters is conveyed through Shilpa Rao's ethereal delivery of Nain parindey.  If you loved Wake Up Sid's Iktaara, you're bound to fall for Nain parindey just as hard. Divine, dulcet and contemplative, Nain is quite easily the simplest and best offering of this album.

After wowing us with his powerful treble in Sadka (I Hate Luv Storys), Surag Jagan aims to impress Rang daalein. Despite all his intense efforts, the composition with its overtly stylized, synthesized layout tries too hard to be deadly and edgy.  

While one cannot deny the influence of Hollywood composers in the instrumental theme, Born to fly, Anand keeps it a compelling a mix of drama and emotion to complain.

From glassy moments to grungy fervour, Lafangey Parindey is irresistibly whimsical.


Ratings: 3/5






Source: Rediff

Udaan is sheer joy to watch!

Parents have a God-like stature in Indian society. And since movies mirror the sugar-coated facet of reality, we barely ever witness the dark side of parenting.

Even in movies like Taare Zameen Par, 3 Idiots or Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa, where nonconforming children fail to make any connect with their rigid fathers, things end on an assuredly resolved, happy note.

In that sense (and more), director Vikramaditya Motwane's Udaan is refreshingly distinct and unyielding. In his superbly penned, alongside co-writer Anurag Kashyap, account of a teenage boy, he makes some relevant points while drawing a poignant picture of wounded relationships giving rise to unlikely family in the face of abuse and neglect.

Rohan (Rajat Barmecha) is a special 17-year old. Though kicked out from a prestigious boarding school in Shimla, there's something instantly arresting about his serene disposition and soulful, searching eyes. He's not a man yet but his poems are observant, mature and laced with enticing simplicity. There's enough subtext to figure out that this wisdom steps from the fact that he lost his mother at a young age and his hardboiled father is too aloof to take notice.  

Whether it's his escape or his identity, writing brings out the best in Rohan's otherwise clammed-up world. A detail often elucidated through fascinating, freewheeling verse. And so that's precisely what he wants to pursue: a career in writing. This does not go down well with his stern, old-school father (played to perfection by Ronit Roy) who wants him to do what 63 percent Indian parents aspire -- join an engineering college.  

A wonderful scene in a local pub featuring Rohan and his aimless cronies has one of the guys articulate this sentiment with a pungent but pertinent remark, 'Sab chote shaher ka baap ek jaisa hota hai. Family business? Very good, very good. Dream business? Very bad, very bad.'

After his afore-mentioned expulsion from boarding, Rohan comes to live with his obstinate father in the steel town of Jamshedpur only to find himself clubbed with a surprise roommate -- his six-year-old step brother, Arjun (Aayan Boradia). Terribly ignored and lonely, Arjun is punished for his naïve existence and doesn't even know it. Boradia doesn't have too many lines but his wide-eyed bewilderment and polite tone is responsible for some of the most heartfelt scenes in Udaan.

A far cry from his rule-breaking days in hostel, he's rudely informed to address his rather mean, hypocritical dad -- he smokes and drinks in front of his kids and then insists on early-morning fitness regime -- as 'Sir'. It's an evidently strained father-son scenario as Rohan angrily points out, 'Beta hoon. Bank ka fixed deposit nahi.'

Udaan has a simple enough plot but it's the finer nuances of its screenplay that lend it memorable profundity. It's undoubtedly a significant film about the youth, so often disparaged for the eager, restless quest of their grand dreams and wild imagination. There are innumerable examples of one frustrated generation juxtaposing its ideas, or rather its predecessor, on the generation to follow, and the vicious cycle continues until a rebel is born.

Motwane's Udaan conveys this rebellion with such refined sensibility and spirit, it's only fair one recommends a tax-free status so that it brings about a greater understanding among many well-meaning but clueless parents struggling to reach out to their angst-ridden teenage offspring.      

As cinema alone, this is a sparkling and confident debut from Motwane. Displaying his merits as a master narrator with regard for emotional subtlety and character detailing, the first-time director shoots crucial scenes without ever losing sight of the story or its intended goal. Crudely put, he doesn't bullshit with his audience. It's this approach that keeps us in constant touch with Rohan even as the camera (by Mahendra Shetty) wistfully lingers around his lost frame and Amit Trivedi's thematic piano plays in reference.

 To Barmecha's credit he's entirely believable and persuasive as a boy unwilling to let go of his aspirations and unable to come to terms with his father's subjugation. Despite his rawness, he carries the viewer all through this self-exploring albeit fruitful journey of dreaming big, facing challenges and encountering the raw deals in store.

Being young can be quite rewarding if you are willing to take charge, be responsible. Udaan is an enriching experience in highlighting the same.



Source: Rediff