Fever

Running a bit of a temperature. And every time I say Fever, I feel the “Fever-fever” run in my head from the gLambert song (written with Lady Gaga). Keeps playing on radio everywhere.

I’m sick of laying down alone
With this fever, fever, yeah

Such poignant lyrics, oh my god, whoever thought of them? But I digress. I had much hope from Adam Lambert. Much more than this. I was quite smitten with his rendition of ‘Mad World’ and ‘Born to be wild‘. In a way, despite his predictable loss to clean-cut and oh-so-christian Kris Allen, I was expecting much more from Lambert. Nothing less than a revival of the Glam Rock genre, thanks to him (and Lady Gaga perhaps, who does the glam part of it very well). But now that’s gone. Now what we get is mish-mash of techno, electronica, dance-pop in the glam rock garb. It’s a pity, because I really thought he had potential to be the next Bowie, or Prince. Not that I am a huge glam rock fan, but one could use a change from the three-chord bands and lot of other stuff that’s doing the rounds. Either way-

Here, FOTC doing Bowie:

And perhaps my favourite Bowie track from Ziggy Stardust.

It ain’t easy to get to heaven when you’re going down.

Why am I writing this? I don’t know. Perhaps to give you my f-f-fever my f-fever, give you my f-f-fever my f-fever

Speechless

There is something very endearing about this acceptance speech by Kunio Kato, I just can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Simple, concise. Maybe it’s the language barrier, but he doesn’t thank God, his mom, or his mom’s dog. No thanking the 124 million people of his country either. He thanks his pencil instead.

And the closing reference to Styx’s  Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto. Yum.

And since we are talking Oscar bits, this bit by Tina Fey and Steve Martin cracked me up.  [God was unfair in his distribution of beauty. But when it came to distribution of humour, it was almost like a lottery. Only very few hit the jackpot.]

A very bad video:

“It has been said that to write is to live forever.”
“The man who wrote that, is dead.”
“Yet we all know the importance of writing, because every great movie begins with a great screenplay.”
“Or, a very good idea for the poster, but usually, a screenplay.”

Why I want to watch Karzzzz.

Being a true fan means watch the good-bad-ugly-pagli – all that’s being offered. I have always claimed to be a big Bollywood fan(atic). Though I must admit, these days, I am far from being even an average fan. I have become extremely selective, choosing multiple A-littered Hollywood fare over Hindi. I only watch movies after someone tells me it’s good. I skipped Jaane tu and A-Wednesday among others. I blame it on lack of time, energy, and more importantly the company. My friends are immensely skeptical about my taste in movies after I dragged them to depressing French movies, and Priyadarshan’s Dhol. I wasted their money, so they made me pay for popcorn.

I don’t blame them for being skeptical. In our limited Bolly universe, where one is frequently treated to pirated DVD-rips, froth dressed in high fashion, and masala masquerading as meaningful, one is better off paying for VCDs from Mustafa, or waiting for the next in-flight entertainment, where the songs can be fast-forwarded, and the spice can be washed down with beer.

And hence you wonder if it’s some sort of masochism that makes me want to watch the even-numerology-can’t-save-it-movie named Karzzzz.

This is one movie which, I firmly believe, is going to be terrible. There are many bad movies, but this one is so unpretentious, it automatically makes it better than others.

And, I am curious as hell-

This is a remake. We all know the plot, the story of the original Karz. That was standard reincarnation and revenge fare – relying on convenient coincidences, something none of the contemporary cynical minds would believe in. We know madam man-eater Kamini was evil, we know Ravi Varma was good and had a Ma and jawan-behen at home.. We know how Rishi Kapoor, as Monty, in his silver attire was getting nowhere revolving on the turntable till he heard *that* tune. To watch the original, you had to leave every ounce of belief in the parking lot. Despite knowing the nano-thin plot which was spoofed in OSO, there is still suspense in watching Karzzzz: is it the original plot? Will mores of cinema be shattered when Sir Judah types in a modern day encrypted morse code? Will Satish Kaushik do what RGV did to Sholay? Or will he add the kahani-me-twist like Don? Or, is it just that when *that* sinister melody plays, we will remember all the unbelievably good yet unbelievable cinema we have seen in the past.

This is no launch vehicle. This has Him, Himesh in all his long-haired, stubbled glory – as an actor, the music director and the singer – none of which he can even be average at. I heard one song – “Tandoori nights” and it put Altaf Raja to shame. Then why him? Did the producers not want to waste money, so as to not suddenly seem wasteful/profitable at the wrong time?

Why is the movie called Karzzzz, and not Kkkarz? Will they promise the insomniac in me a good three hours of sleep? Am I immune to bad cinema?

Will I wince? Will I scream? Will I have to tie my friend to the chair to make her watch it? Will we just get up and walk out? Will I do something as simple, as lowly, as giggling even when there is no joke?

Will this will be the epitome, the reincarnation of everything bad that Hindi cinema has ever dhol-ed out to me?

No, frankly, I have sub-0 expectations, and this movie could fail me on those too. Ever since I made up my mind to watch the movie, knowing well that this would be the low point of the entire week, the rest of the week started looking better.

–

PS: It builds character
PPS: This is also a test of friendship. Ask your BFF to watch it with you. If s/he does, s/he’s all yours. If not, dosti me no sorry, no thangyu.

Thirteen Senses

“Nice“, the Englishman said, reprimanding me for the use of the word, “Nice is what you say when you have tea with your grandmother“.

He had forced the poor people in that little shack to put his CD on to their sound system. Since he is a regular there, they humoured him. But what commenced was a tussle between him and the bartenders. He went on asking them to increase the volume, they kept on reducing it so as to not disturb the other patrons.  Then, sometime later, he slipped the CD of “Thirteen Senses” debut album “The Invitation” towards me and said, “Listen to it, you will love it“.

Just got around to listening to the CD today, only because I have this blog and I have been so deprived of writing that I am even ready to write a primary school essay on “Meri pehli rail/bus/videsh yaatra” (My first trip on the train/on the bus/abroad)

Anyway,  this the kind of inconsequential music that makes it to the closing credits of a TV drama series, while all the characters are getting to the closure over the matters in the episode, over a cup of coffee and then the song becomes the band’s calling card. Though the album vaguely reminded me of the Coldplay/Travis type,  Thirteen senses is far from achieving what those bands have. I will call the music/album exactly what the Englishman wouldn’t want me to: “Nice”.

Song, if you care: Into The Fire

Lyrics, if you care: Come on, come on/ Put your hands into the fire

Aside: I did spend a minute thinking why would they call the band “thirteen senses”. The sixth, of course, was taken by the movie. What happened to 7th through 11th, and the 12th?