Filmonomics
August 31st, 2008 by admin | Comments Off | Filed in Salman Khan, Shah Rukh KhanFilmonomics
Gone are the days when a majority of film producers had to depend either on underworld money or seedy moneylenders for their films’ finances. In the last few years, with the entry of corporates into Bollywood, a huge change has taken place in the film industry in terms of financial structure, and consequently, the way Bollywood is run.ῠ
The likes of UTV, Eros Multimedia, Percept Picture Company, Studio 18 and Reliance Big Entertainment now want presences on all sides of the filmmaking spectrum - production, distribution and exhibition. Bollywood is no longer the monopoly of a few major producers.ῠῠῠ Corporates are now the biggest players in the market. Pouring in millions of rupees, they are multiplying work for all those connected with the industry. Corporates are also targeting niche audiences with several multiplexes springing up across the metros. Producers are taking risks, making small budget films like Aamir, Bheja Fry and Khosla Ka Ghosla, all of which have had successful runs at the box office. However, is it all as rosy as it looks?ῠῠ
BUDGET DEMANDSῠῠ
Almost every other week, one hears of multi-crore deals being offered to stars and major directors - a distant dream just a few years ago. The huge finances come through public money generated through the shares of these corporates - they do not shell out from their own pockets. As a result, star prices have increased, as have the budgets of these films. The likes of Akshay Kumar, Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan and Saif Ali Khan have increased their prices ten-fold. Corporates are willing to give in to their demands as they realise star power is a near guarantee for success at the box office.ῠ
Producer-director Rajkumar Kohli says, “I am not able to sign stars because of their hefty prices. Apart from a few, none are worthy of the prices they demand. Corporates can use public money. As an individual producer, I lose what I have invested. I do not think corporatisation has helped the industry in any manner.” Although corporates are generating multiple projects in the film market, a majority of these films have flopped miserably. The hit-to-flop ratio this year has broken all previous records. With only a handful of films - Race, Jannat, Jodhaa Akbar, Kismat Konnection, Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na and Singh Is Kinng - acquiring certified hit status in 2008, most other releases made or dealt with by corporates have ended up as box office turkeys.ῠῠ
THE RETURNSῠῠῠ
Whatever qualms individual producers have, they find it hard to argue against the economics of the corporate invasion.ῠ Producer Vipul Shah, responsible for hits like Waqt, Namastey London and Singh Is King, comments, “I don’t think that as an individual producer I am facing any problems. In fact, the corporate world is looking at more and more producers. The volume of money is high. Anyone who is making successful films is welcome to approach them.”ῠῠῠ As for big budget films and star prices, the producer says, “No one here has the right to demand money for nothing. If the producers were not getting returns, would they succumb to such demands? The market is growing and they command attention, so why not demand?”ῠ
Producer Vashu Bhagnani with a string of No. 1 suffixed hits to his name, says, “With the emergence of corporate houses it’s hard to find a star for a film. Ultimately, if you tie up with a corporate house, at least you get returns for the money you have invested.” The last film he made independently was in 2005. He is now going to launch his son as he is finding it tough to sign top stars. “The only good change that has set in is that business has started booming, especially overseas,” he says.ῠῠ
The corporates themselves, of course, vouch for the success of their formula. UTV chief executive officer Siddharth Roy Kapoor says, “It’s a great time for the industry. They are actually seeing maximum margins after corporates have come into the industry. Individual producers have the talent and ability to make good films, but with a little help from corporate houses, they can get pretty good returns as well. Only those who are sub-distributors, and do not know how to survive, have gone out of business. What demands are they talking about? No one is forcing them to agree to the demands of stars. There is a limited supply of talent, so the supply and demand status remains statuesque.”ῠῠ
THE ROAD AHEAD
It is an understatement to say that corporate houses have set foot in Bollywood with a degree of permanence. In the midst of the raging argument, they are staunch in their defence, and dismiss suggestions of a monopoly. Rohit Sharma, chief executive officer, feature films, Percept Picture Company, says, “We have to make the best of both worlds. If a particular structure of organisation is there, it has the ability to do value-added stuff. Corporate houses have just stepped into the film industry. We have not reached the stage where studios like Warner Bros or Columbia Pictures rule the roost. As corporates, we value pricing. Nobody here is paying exorbitant amounts if there are no returns, nor can we create any kind of monopolistic environment. We believe in creating what our consumer wants. When we publicised Khuda Ke Liye, a Pakistan film, no one was ready to touch it. But we believed in the content and the film was a hit. We have taken films like Ugly Aur Pagli and Jannat and proved ourselves at the box office.”ῠ
Producer-director Sanjay Gupta of White Feather Films is more unabashed in his appraisal. “Corporates are the best thing to happen to the industry. I do not think we should criticise them, and say things such as they know nothing and are just distributing money left, right and centre. The film industry is now being recognised as serious business. Multiplexes have grown. Therefore, I can take the risk of making films like Dus Kahaniyaan. I no longer have to worry about the distribution or marketing of my film,” he says.ῠῠῠ
But producer-director Suneel Darshan, of Andaaz, Dosti and Shakalaka Boom Boom fame, begs to differ.
ῠ”Corporates are absolutely welcome in the industry. The plus point is the large amounts of money churned out. We can also take their help to curb piracy. However, we as individuals have to treat this with more responsibility. The artistes and technicians are creative people. Rather than spoiling them with offers that are more lucrative, they have to churn out good work from them. In 2008, the quality of commercial cinema has not been very good. I think they should utilise and channelise this creativity for the benefit of the movie industry. At the same time, I think we as individual producers should start accepting the change, rather than resist it and get sidelined,” he says.
In the future, Bollywood may witness corporate battles, in addition to the norm of star wars. With some 1,000 multiplexes slated to dot the country in the next two years, corporate giants are eyeing the huge returns that films have to offer - and not just moolah, but instant name and fame too. Ultimately, the trend may point to the way Bollywood seems to be gravitating towards a Hollywood-style setup, where studio control and unions are the order of the day.ῠ
The key to inner transformation
By N N Ashleyy K.S.
In working with people, helping them explore the inner landscape of their lives, I find that no matter what the issue may be and regardless of what age my client is, I’m still working with the same “problem”. The primary cause that underlies all our so-called imbalances, of the mind and body, can be addressed by asking ourselves a simple question: “Who do I think I am?”ῠ
This encompasses the whole bundle of beliefs that help us create our sense of identity or ego self. This central idea is the major psychological and spiritual breakthrough of the age of Aquarius. “How do I see myself?” “What kind of parent, what kind of lover or worker am I?” “Am I good at languages, music or math?” Whatever we think of ourselves most accurately predicts our performance. We go toward activities that we know we can accomplish and stay away from those where we might fail. We see around us regularly very talented people in sports, arts or business who weren’t able to develop their talent because their sense of self, their self-image, was the real obstacle.
Our conscious mind produces the pictures we see of the world, and ourselves. Whatever those pictures may be, good, bad or scary, our subconscious gobbles it up as gospel and, without argument, ensures that our behaviour matches those images.ῠ However, “correct” or outlandish the picture, our subconscious becomes an obliging slave to it. Interestingly, from then on, the subconscious becomes the most powerful influence in our lives and also gets programmed for repetition. We become creatures of habit.
Thinking the same from day to day, being the same everyday. Until…. one day we wake up and say, “Hey, I’d like to change the way I feel about this.” And that’s all that’s necessary. That awareness alone can be the beginning of a new and conscious habit. The brain is like a muscle; it learns through movement and activity. It learns via difference and challenge and, most importantly, it learns best from self-reflection. So, let us ask ourselves this vital question: “How do I see myself?” Because that is how everyone sees me. Others see in us what we see in ourselves.
As we change the pictures inside ourselves, we change the way the world appears to us. It is our self-image that determines how we interpret and respond to all of life. My experience in working with people of all ages tells me that if we wish to bring about meaningful change in our lives, the transformation needs to come from the inside. Everything begins with our idea of who we think we are and what we think we’re capable of. Positive pictures about ourselves allow us to take positive steps that lead to positive results. In this way ideas get transformed into reality and we can get anything we really want.
The writer is a tarot card reader, numerologist, colour and angel therapist, aura reader and
parapsychologist
‘I feel that God always walks beside me’
By Poonam Bhagat
Mykonos, that tiny little magical island in Greece had a tranquility and timelessness that was surreal. The sirocco howled as it ripped through the sleepy white villa and the warm night air was thick with the scent of a hundred dying flowers. The olive groves echoed with the sound of screaming cicadas while the orange moon glistened eerily on the foam flecked sea. The whole place acquired an atmosphere of ancient melancholy.ῠ And then, the dark skin of night peeled off and my bedroom shutters (a bright fuchsia to match the bougainvillea that sprawled luxuriously on the patio) turned luminous and were barred with gold from the rising sun, when the news of my mother’s unexpected death came to me.ῠ
The umbilical cord snapped suddenly leaving me dazed and confused. I, the centre of her universe, should be so far away when she dies the irony left me not only bewildered but extremely angry. And yet, it seemed as if she had engineered her death so as to protect me, as she always did. For if I had to be anywhere on this day, it had to be here.ῠῠ The strains of Krishna Das singing Hare Rama Hare Krishna had greeted me the day before, thanks to my “new-age” Greek host and her friends who were contorting their bodies in unbelievable yoga positions as I left the villa to go downtown.
My passing shot was: “Can’t believe I am listening to bhajans in Greece. The only time I listen to bhajans is when somebody dies.” Prophetic! I went down to an area called “little Venice” and sat down to watch the Aegean lap against the white washed shops. An air of inexplicable despondency settled around me like a veil. My heart was not in this place anymore. I needed to go home. I walked across to the travel agency and preponed my flight back to Delhi by a week deciding to leave the day after.ῠ
My mother will be thrilled to bits, I thought , this will be a surprise. She’s not expecting me back yet. I could see her face light up on my return. I’d been gone for five weeks. The last I saw her was on her 62nd birthday. Yes, this will be a wonderful surprise and I hastened to a curio shop and bought her an icon of Jesus which I absolutely loved.
That same night she passed away and the surprise was on me. Every Greek villa has a church in its compound. Elsa’s church was crammed with Indian Gods along with her own. Although Greek, she’d been christened Draupadi 25 years ago at the Indian ashram she visited every year. I fled to the church trying to find peace and was blessed by a pantheon of Hindu gods. This is amazing. Is my mother orchestrating all this or is it really God?
Pummelled by phone calls from Delhi, each bringing on a fresh outburst from me, the Greeks decided to bundle me in the car and take me for a “parikrama” around Mykonos.
As the little pink convertible wound its way across the island I felt my mother slide in next to me. “Here I am , with you at last.” I swear I thought I heard her say. I couldn’t see her, but her presence was so palpable that instead of bursting out into goose flesh I felt strangly calm, as if my mother had smoothed my frazzled nerves with just one stroke. We alighted at a church and lit a candle for her while she stood beside me. And then, whoosh… she was gone. Forever.
The flight back filled me with trepidation. I didn’t have the energy to deal with a five hour stopover in Athens. Having left Mykonos and my gracious friends behind, I was enveloped in a shroud of utter loneliness. How could I possibly cope? I felt like a cyclone-hit island surrounded by a sea of strangers. And then a soft masculine voice rang in my ears like manna from heaven. My co-passenger, an Italian American lawyer much younger to me, was trying to strike up a conversation.ῠῠ Again, I don’t know who engineered this, my mother or God, but Jason decided to spend those five hours with me in Athens and see me safely on the flight back to India. We walked around, grabbed a sandwich, talked about life and after life. Time that had stood still, flew by and then I was alone again on the longest flight of my life.
But now I was on my way home and secure in the knowledge that I would have the warmth of my family and friends to greet me on my arrival.ῠ I never saw Jason again. It has been 10 years since. The road has been sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky but I am always secure in the knowledge that God, who for me is an all pervading supreme force with no other name than God, is holding my hand and walking beside me forever and more.
The writer is a fashion designer
Spirits age as well
By Veenu Sandal
Apart from cases like those of Anne Walker where the spirit sought justice on its own, there have been innumerable occasions when loved ones have got in touch with departed souls to obtain instructions of some kind or another from them. In most cases spirits are keen to see justice dispensed or their wishes fulfilled - understandably, it brings peace to their soul and allows them to move forward unencumbered. Of course, kaal and karma play their own, cardinally important, central roles too. Significantly, spirits are able to cross time barriers. Several reliable accounts seem to point not just that way, but at the occurrence of spirits being able to travel through births to an earlier birth or reincarnation.
And yes, spirits seem to age as well, because there have been instances of mothers being visited by children who had died at a tender age, and they didn’t recognise them 10 or 15 years later because they were in a grown-up form until the particular child reminded them of specific incidents or marks. “I was born with a cleft lip, remember,” a daughter reminded her mother when she appeared before in a spirit state seven years later.
When the mother imagined her as she would have been seven years later, she was able to recognise her easily. But spirits also have the ability to shape themselves into the form they were in when they died, although this is a slow process. Essentially, from all available indications, spirits seem to be ageless. There have been many cases of spirits who have stayed with a family generation after generation, with each generation giving the same description of the apparition, right down to the minutest detail.
A common feature of all accounts is that if a person dies at an old age, after death the person invariably returns to a younger state - somewhere between the 20s and 30s - and there is a particular glow surrounding that person. When my father visited me two days after his death, there was a wonderful glow surrounding him and the process of becoming youthful was already in an advanced stage.
In some cases, the transformation from old to young has been recorded to be amazingly fast, as for instance, in the case of the late Hiren Gupta. A retired United Nations official, Hiren Gupta died in India. And his brother, who lived in England, saw him in his house just a short while later, but it was a much younger version of Hiren Gupta that he saw.
The pattern seems to point at four things. One, if you die young, you seem to reappear in an older form. Two, if you die old, you seem to reappear in a younger form. Thirdly, both young and old, when they re-appear, seem to be in the 20 to 30 age group. Fourthly, no matter what the age at which they died, they can also appear just as they were when they died. Why is this so and how does it happen? Spirit contacts offer interesting reasons for this, which I’ll tell you about in the next column.
To be continued
I am a simple man at heart: Salman Khan
You will never be able to find a family like ours anywhere else. The patriarch of the family is a Pathan. My father Salim Khan is married to a Maharashtrian Hindu who converted to Islam. My other mother Helenji is from Burma. My sister-in-law Malaika Arora is from Kerala and my other sister-in-law Seema is also a Hindu. We are such a close-knit family.
I really hope there are phenomena like rebirth, but I do not want to remember the previous births. I just want to be born again in my same family. God is very important for me. I did a film God Tussi Great Ho, recently, where I play a character that is totally unlike me. In real life I do thank God for the good things that he has given me.
My fans are my other great strength. So many come here to try and meet me. Scores of people wait outside my house. They want to kiss me and they want to touch me. Once when I removed my T-shirt and threw it to them there was a huge applause. People loved and even fought to get the T-shirt. My relationship with my fans is the best thing that I have outside my family. In fact, I can’t thank them enough. When I was in jail, they stood outside temples and mosques and prayed for me. They have stood by me through thick and thin. I have gone through various phases in life and I don’t entertain the media like other stars. But my fans don’t have to read things about me to love me. They love me for what I am.
I am a simple person. I think that is the reason why people end up identifying with me. I am a guy who has risen in life, but at heart, I am a simple common man. I am not a star as I am being made out to be. I have had a different kind of relationship with the media. Nowadays, I give interviews only to senior journalists. I will not talk to unscrupulous journalists and television reporters who do not know what to ask. They just ask whatever they feel and do not respect the sentiments of the person they are interviewing.
It is strange to wake up in the morning and see a scowling face of yourself in the newspaper or read things that are not true. I have undergone this for a long time.ῠ It seems people are in too much of a hurry to get me married off. But life has just started for me now. Of course, I will get married someday. People ask me how it feels to work with Katrina. It makes me uncomfortable because you share a great bond personally and you have to replicate it on screen. Wouldn’t it look a little weird if you are asked to enact a romantic scene with someone you are close to?
As told to Noyon Jyoti Parasara
Now I realise how important family is
By Keerthana S
ῠTalk about celebrating independence and my Independence Day was the perfect disaster. While world over people were celebrating 61 years of Indian Independence, I was quietly celebrating my own. Freedom from my family, freedom from packed schedules, freedom from college and exams, and freedom from the stressful life in a big city. And to add to that, I had the resources, the permission and the will to be independent.
Managing all my possessions single handedly, having the freedom to go out with my friends unescorted and whenever I wanted to, handling my own cash, and all this in a foreign country where I was living without my family, made me feel like an all important adult. But fate has this cruel way of jolting you back to reality (I’m sorry, that line was just added for dramatic effect. Nothing really bad happened to me!)
Anyways, coming back to the point, the day was 15th August and I was woken up at 6 o’clock sharp by the sound of the most annoying alarm clock in the world! After a quick hot shower and having run the comb though my hair twice, I ran into the kitchen to put together something that would keep me going for the next six hours. Finishing my breakfast, I was ready to leave. I shouted out a quick ‘tchau’ to my host parents and left the house, praying that I would not be late for class that day. But being late was not what I should have been worried about.
I got out of the elevator of my building to have a dark and gloomy street greet me instead of the happy bustling one that I was accustomed to. I checked my watch twice to see that it was really 6.30 and not 5.30 am. Crossing the lane, I reached the main road. And as soon as I did, the clouds broke.
As the first drops of ice cold rain hit my face, I was wondering if I should go back home - but I let my bad sense of judgment prevail yet again. I convinced myself that the school was only six blocks away (a distance that I covered in a matter of minutes every morning,) and I could not afford a late remark. So I decided to continue. Besides, Brazilian rain showers were never heavy - a few seconds of a light drizzle, and then it would vanish.
But it seems the Rain Gods took my underestimation of their power personally. And with every step the rain came down harder on me. My jacket was drenched, my already messy hair was a complete disaster, my spectacles were fogged so I could not see the street ahead, and little droplets of water slid off my nose. I began to look for a shop with a parapet that extended onto the pavement, so that I could stand under it for a few minutes until the rain stopped. But you guessed right, there were none to be found. Not a single one on my whole way, something I had not noticed earlier, and I wish I had.
That was when it hit me, that life alone isn’t that easy after all. We are used to our over-protective mothers fussing over us. They will wake us up as gently as possible every morning so that we don’t have to endure the shrill alarm clock; they will keep our favourite breakfast ready for us, drive us to school and ensure that we have an umbrella with us, so that we don’t get wet in the rain. I used to think that living alone is no big deal, but it is these things that made me realise that we are indeed brought up in a very secure atmosphere. And often these little deeds go unnoticed until we are away from the shelter of our family.
So now I guess I am more alert about the weather when I leave the house, I carry an umbrella with me, I know where to go when I need shelter and I realise how important my family is to me. My first taste of an independent life may not have been very sweet, and it may not have been what I expected - but I taught me a lot, and I will never forget it.
Perhaps platonic friends make the best lovers!
By Samantha Brett
Lately I’ve found myself in a number of heated debates over whether or not men and women can just be friends. No strings. No love stuff getting in the way. Just unconditional, uncomplicated friendship.ῠ True, platonic friendships provide us with something that we don’t get from our same-sex mates or romantic partners. Blokes love ‘em because they get that emotional support they don’t get from their mates. Females dig ‘em because, well, let’s face it, men are less bitchy than chicks and couldn’t care less whether our new dress is from Tarun Tahiliani or Biba.
But let’s take a moment to define what exactly a platonic relationship is. According to the Webster Dictionary, it’s a “close relationship between two persons in which sexual desire is nonexistent or has been suppressed or sublimated.” Ahuh! So the sexual desire has been part of these so-called non-romantic friendships all along! No wonder Harry was so frustrated when he announced to Sally (in the 1989 classicῠ Hollywood film When Harry Met Sally) that men and women could never be friends because “the sex part always gets in the way.”
But philosopher Nietzsche had a different theory. He wrote that women can enter into a friendship with a man perfectly well; “but in order to maintain it, the aid of a little physical antipathy is perhaps required”. In other words, if neither party is physically attractive in the eyes of the other, things should be smooth sailing.
Or not. If we follow Nietzsche’s logic then there isn’t a hope in hell for a platonic friendship between us, and say, a sizzling hot gent who gets our pheromones going faster than a David Jones shoe sale.ῠ Yet my next question is this: If we’re happily ensconced in one of these so-called friendships, can we start dating someone else? Does hanging out with a platonic friend on the side suddenly become a criminal dating offence? And if so, do we simply tell our old friend to “bugger off mate, I’m hitched and no longer need your ‘platonic’ services”?
My hairdresser Larissa recently confessed that she had to dump her new man because he would not let her see her high school buddy Damon. “He banned me from hanging out with him because he suspected I secretly had a huge crush on him,” she told me while snipping my hair. “Pfft, as if! We’ve been friends for eight years and nothing has ever happened.”
When it came around to my next hair appointment, I couldn’t help but notice the shiny rock gleaming from her ring-finger. “What’s going on?!” I asked her, eyes wide with anticipation. “You didn’t get back with that creep did you?”
“Nope,” she replied, “it’s from Damon - my high school sweetheart! We really were in love all this time… and didn’t even know it.”ῠ So perhaps platonic friends make the best lovers after all.
The writer is an author, columnist & dating expert (You can mail your responses to asksambrett@gmail.com)
Reality dangles dramatic bait
With the second season of the serial Bigg Boss steadily climbing the TRP ladder, many experts are questioning human nature and its inherent love for gossip, bitching and backbiting. With a motley mix of a politician, item number girls, starlets, a Bhojpuri bombshell and musician, the reality show is spicier than a Bollywood potboiler as many youngsters feel that here “the best part is that nothing is rehearsed, so it reveals a lot about human nature”.
Indians are known for their “inquisitive” nature and TV producers are cashing in on this fact and laughing all the way to the bank with viewers glued to their TV screens. The timing too is perfect and mostly they get a good slot for maximum viewership. Deepak Kumar, a professional, opines, “I feel these reality shows try to blow things out of proportion. In order to generate curiosity, they engineer a lot of unnecessary drama. The target audience usually has a very high EQ (emotional quotient) and less of IQ (intelligence quotient).”
The audience likes the uncertainty that prevails in these shows (politician Sanjay Nirupam’s “spat” with the frizzy haired bombshell Sambhavana Seth), explains Dr Sanjay Chugh, a senior consultant psychiatrist. He says, “One reason why reality shows turn out to be big hits is because there is an element of the unknown that keeps viewers guessing. This is not true with regular soaps on television. A specific theme that is running in the serial makes it easy for people to predict what is going to come next. In reality shows, reactions from actors are spontaneous, unplanned and unrehearsed. The fact that most of the contestants are celebrities is luring and then to see them in roles that are different from their set genres also hooks viewers.”
The successful recipe for a good reality show is adding a lot of masala in the form of controversial characters, dramatic situations and loads of exaggeration. Dr Madhumati Singh, a senior psychologist at Samvedna Klinik, Delhi opines, “The main reason behind the success of reality shows is real life drama, unedited and unadulterated.
The makers of the show target young adults and show things that are larger than life. We all know that violence can lead to problems, but still we love watching WWE, in spite of the fact that everything shown is scripted. It is the case here, as abstract human nature and dynamics come into play. The intrigue and mysterious elements keep the audiences hooked.”
Those who follow these shows agree to the fact that not everything shown in these shows is genuine and many parts are scripted. Shubhra Dev, a student from Hans Raj College says, “It’s very weird that we watch these shows, but then who doesn’t like catfights and bitching? In the recent episode they showed starlet Monica Bedi crying. We all knew that was coming because there were lot of promos on the channel and still we could not resist. We all like watching people plot against one another and gossip to pull each other down.” The gossip saga continues and the more controversial people one manages to rope in, the more TRPs these shows garner.
Swati Malhotra, who is pursuing her MBA, is a big fan of such shows and finds them very amusing. She says, “All the people chosen for reality shows are weird in some or the other way. Be it Roadies, Spiltsvilla or Bigg Boss, all the characters are shown as mean and opportunistic. On screen they are always portrayed as a different person and in reality shows they play their true self, which is very different from their screen image. And after all who doesn’t want to see celebrities waiting to pull the rug from under his opponent’s feet?”
No one knows what will work
By Vikram Bhatt
I heard this fantastic story that an old writer told me and I can never forget it. The story goes something like this: A hindi film producer was once taking his early morning walk down a beach in Mumbai when he saw something that looked like the Magic Lamp of Alladin. He was so surprised to find a thing such as that lying on the beach and almost did not believe that it could be the real thing but he decided to give it a go.
So rub-a-dub-dub and lo the Genie appeared! “What can I do for you Mr Producer? State your three wishes!” he said. The producer could not believe his luck and went right for the jugular. One, he wanted unending finance for the movie. Whoosh! The coffers were full! Two, he wanted the biggest stars for all his films. Splat! A chunk of star signed contracts appeared! Three, he wanted the best script in the world. The Genie has still not returned! He is still looking for it!
That my dear friends is the irony of this business or you may call it the curse of this business. You may have everything at your disposal and yet you don’t know what works.
Take the recent case of what the industry is calling ‘Mallika Sherawat versus the crow.’ The producers of Maan Gaye Mughal-e-Azam managed to sell the film at a handsome price considering it had Mallika Sherawat, Paresh Rawal, Kay Kay Menon and Rahul Bose and the producers of Phoonk, I am told had to release the film on their account almost every where and yet when The Friday comes Phoonk with no starcast to boast of opens unbelievably and Maan Gaye Mughal-e-Azam does not gather enough audiences. Why does this happen? People will speculate and have a thousand theories but these are all in retrospect. No one knows what’s going to work.
When I had press meets for my film 1920 before the release of Phoonk everyone from the press had just one question to ask me, “do you think a horror film will work in the times of comedy films?” and now seeing the response to Phoonk the question has changed overnight. “Do you feel encouraged by the opening of Phoonk?”
One friday and everything changes. To quote Kazan once more he said that audiences are like blood hounds. They smell a good film and they often see behind the con of most promotions. I believe that audiences are drawn by something that has always been a mystery for the filmmakers to explain. Films that have huge stars and money spent on them collapse and a Bheja Fry rules the Box Office. So what the hell is it? What works? With my film 1920 just twelve days away from release I am obviously obsessing about this question. But I know one thing and that is at the end of the day only stories work. Whether it is a tribe of people enthralling each other with stories around a fire, whether it’s the mother reading a story to her children or a filmmaker showing his film, it is all about stories. People come for the love of new stories that can capture their imaginations.
There is a lot of talk about movies and the trend of movies but I know that to work you have to be different. You have to tell that untold story. When a person cannot bear to hear a joke that he has heard before how in heaven’s name will he sit through a story that he has been told to him before. You might fail in being different but in being the regular you will surely fail.
My career has been an amazing rollercoaster ride: Bipasha
She was hot as a sultry seducer in Ajnabee and cool as a slick urbanite in Corporate. And now Bipasha Basu has set hearts aflutter through her bombshell act in Bachna Ae Haseeno. And through her myriad performances she has proved that she is not just a glam doll but an actress who can deliver the goods. “I have never been after the number one position,” says Bipasha. “In fact, I don’t know what it means. I am not here to compete. I enjoy the work that I do and sign films on my gut feeling.”
And when Bipasha says that, you can take her at her word. For she is not given to diplomatic speak. “At the end of the day what is important is that my films are appreciated,” she adds. “My career has been an amazing rollercoaster ride. I may have climbed the ladder of success bit by bit, but my career graph has always gone up.”
This does not mean that all of Bipasha’s films have been hits. There have been duds and she knows that well enough. “There have been a few films, which I have not been very happy about but I have learnt things the hard way,” she says. “I have become more responsible and mature with time. I had no godfather to guide me in the business and the audience has kept me grounded.”
So what is Bipasha’s secret formula? “I try to balance what the audience likes and what I love doing,” says she.ῠ Bipasha is not too worried about whether she is taken seriously as an actress. “Filmmaking is a fun process,” she says. “I don’t bother whether people take me seriously or not. I have done films of different genres and have proved my mettle time and again.” She has tried her hand at comedy in No Entry and had gone for oomph in films such as Dhoom. In Omkara and Corporate, she did serious roles. “Finally it all boils down to the business a film does,” she adds. “We have to think whether we are providing entertainment to the audiences.”
Despite having shaken her leg to hit numbers like Tu Sirf Mera Mehboob from Ajnabee, Billoo Rani from Dhan Dhanadan Goal and the very famous Beedi Jailaile from Omkara, Bipasha coolly says she is not a good dancer. “Luckily, I have been blessed with good songs right from my first film,” says the actress. “But I am not a trained dancer. I used to find it tedious but after I did the number Ishq Ki Galli in No Entry I lost all my inhibitions. I enjoy dancing now.”
And she is not heartbroken when someone criticises her performances. “I take criticism in a very positive way,” she says. “I don’t need to speak too much about my work. I let my work speak for me.” Nowadays, Bipasha has become choosy. She just has three films in her hand now - Jahangir Surti’s Freeze, White Feather Films’ Pankh and a Bengali film Shawb Choritro Kalponik directed by Rituparno.
“I have not liked the other scripts that have come to me,” she says. “But I can’t really say on what basis I choose films. There are too many factors attached to it. But there is no need to have 20 projects at a time.”
So what kind of roles is she looking for? “Let me be frank,” she quips. “The Hindi film industry is a male dominated industry. As an actress you have a very limited choice. So choosing and picking from what you get is a difficult task.” So Bipasha is looking forward to doing meaningful films such as Pankh and Shawb Choritro Kalponik. “It creates a balance,” she adds.
Filmy news
Siddarth-Soha fallen out?
One is left wondering about Rang De Basanti star Siddharth’s move to Mumbai; if it’s for personal reasons or professional. There’s a constant ‘not interested’ signboard from his end when it comes to makers approaching him with scripts. On the personal front too his relationship with Soha is on the rocks.ῠῠ Whenever in Mumbai, Siddharth would stay at Soha’s Bandra pad and had even helped her do up the place. But things are not going well between the two according to close friends. Though the two attended Saif’s birthday bash together, hosted by Kareena, it was just a day after Siddharth had moved out of Soha’s apartment into the neighboring five star hotel.
“The two have been having a lot of differences,” according to a common friend and since they were in the same space they weren’t able to work on their problems. So Siddharth decided to move to the hotel and take time to think over his decisions. Soha needed her own space too, and didn’t stop Siddharth from moving out. Although friends are hopeful that this separation will only bring the couple closer, first cracks are never a pleasant sight.
Preity, Ness off to Australia
For all those who were speculating about the status of Preity-Ness relationship, here’s some good news. The two are very much together and have planned a holiday to Australia as soon as Preity returns from the World Tour with the Bachchans. The two will be heading to Gold Coast to get some Sun on the beach before returning to Sydney where Preity is said to have booked a villa for the two to cosy up together.
Preity is sure that she wants to make this relationship work and has been on the phone with Ness every day from the US despite the time difference and their pressing commitments. And things seem to be back on track for the two. Preity and Ness will also be venturing into another business territory, plans to which are held close to their hearts but knowing the two, expect something big for sure. And after the success of their IPL team, we can safely say couples that do business together stay together.
KJo miffed with Priyanka
Priyanka Chopra, who is getting great feedback for her bikini act in the upcoming Dostana, for some reason best known to her is crying hoarse that she was coaxed into wearing that bikini.ῠ The hot girl turned thanda some years ago and covered up to cater to filmmakers like the Chopras who preferred coy, demure heroines. But with winds changing direction, and Ash, Kareena and Bipasha going sultry for Yash Raj, Priyanka was getting her groove back with her smoldering show in Dostana.
But her new volt face has surprised Karan Johar. As soon as he read Priyanka’s comments about being coaxed into wearing a bikini, he picked the phone and reportedly gave her a piece of his mind.ῠ If she didn’t want to wear the bikini she needn’t have to do the film, as they weren’t groveling for her to do the film, he’s said to have thundered. Priyanka tried the ‘I was misquoted’ trick but Karan can see right through it according to a Dharma productions man and is quite miffed with Priyanka. It’s kind of ironic that their film is titled Dostana in the present context, isn’t it?
Middle sex mannerisms
By Sunil K. Poolani
Can’t help it; howsoever one tries to do otherwise. Sorry. It might sound anti-feministic (whatever that means), but the truth is women are on the rise in publishing, writing and, what else, wearing the pant not just in the house but in the office, too. Hate me (I can hear that ever-flaming protests).ῠ But, then, I am not against the ones who put their souls where their soles are in. I mean, who have done their respective and painstaking legwork and have done remarkable work; they are, nevertheless, dismissed for not being, ahem, chick.
Chick, one said? Understatement. Well, then comes, chick-lit. And there is no dearth of that nefarious clan; even this ever-cribbing publisher has published one or two of that ilk. But, one gets penitent, like a puppy that has swallowed her master’s socks. Last things first. There has been this hype about a book called You Are There, by a 20-something called Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan, for almost a year, on several offline and online avenues.ῠ Then, hype sells. More, when there is PR. And this hype got delivered last week, in print. I held the book in my hands, saw the content and tried to read the style of writing and, what to say, I had to sympathise: for her naivety, for her lack of maturity. She has guts, nonetheless: she was quoted in an interview that she thinks she is a great writer.
She should be. Write well she does, in bits and pieces, but her debut book, which has no direction to claim one, reeks of self-confidence sans depth.
It lacks of a trajectory her peers had left behind for her, including her supposed-heroine, Jane Austen. Austen took time to write; she is today dubbed a chick-lit litterateur by cultural tsarinas is another story.ῠ Austen had substance, and what Madhavan lacks is class; but our chicks find publishers who are convinced there are suckers who would lap all these scoop up without even raising an eyebrow. Ahem. Do not blame these young aspirants. A publisher puts his money where his, well, whatever is. What if it is bad sex writing (”flutter in panties”)?
What amuses me is why do these same publishers give a step-motherly (see, I am not anti-feminist) treatment to their own authors who not just write well but do path-breaking literature, fiction or non-fiction. (I am talking as an ordinary reader; I too do the same mistake; kill me.) Two recent books come to my mind. A Journey Interrupted by the spirited but unassuming Farzana Versey is the first. Versey struggles to keep her sanity in a land (Pakistan) that could have been hers, if her peers might have decided to settle when the subcontinent was divided by the Brits after they used and abused all what was worth of us.
Her writing is dense at times, but the fluidity and versatility are amazing at times when she is at her compassionate best when Pakistanis tease of her “dual” identity - I could have killed them if I were Versey. The crime of Versey is that she lives a “double” life. She is a pariah in Pakistan; “what are you doing in India?” She is a pariah in India, too; “what are you doing in India?” Needs guts - to have sanity. And to write good English. To explore the travesties of a manmade tamasha. And, in the end, bringing out an outstanding travelogue that just does not explore barren lands, but bruised minds.
The second is 3, Zakia Mansion by the talented Gouri Dange. Hers is a story about one Shaheen, who has to go through tumultuous tribulations. The style of the narrative is marvellous, the prose poignant, vivifying vividly the protagonist’s trials, oscillating between the past and the present. It is about desires and disappointments, the vicariousness and vicissitudes. Moving. Read it. By the way, I read in a magazine the other day that women head most of the big publishing houses in India today.ῠ So, hello, women should not complain that they are under-represented. But which women are represented?ῠ The ones that have a life of a melting ice-cream, mind you. And not the ones who leave a sour taste in the mouth. But the latter make you realise what reality is, and they will stand the test of time.
I should not have brought this up, but, again, I could not resist this; pardon me.
Just realised that Madhavan is the daughter of N.S. Madhavan, one of the most phenomenal fiction writers who changed the course of Malayalam literature, and someone I admire till today. Grow up, chicks, mature up, before mamas have to hatch their eggs again. Life is not short.
Postscript
My experiments with distributors’ truth continue. The other day, one mercifully told me, “Instead of publishing all these books, why can’t you supply us with notebooks?” Notebooks? “Yes, with an attractive cover; and, yes, you can add one quotable quote in every page, since you wanted to be literary”
I salute that soul.
The writer is the publisher and managing editor,ῠ Frog Books, an imprint of Leadstart Publishing Pvt Ltd, Mumbai. Write to him at poolani@gmail.com
‘Human life fascinates me’
By Anita Nair
I read everyday for several hours. In fact, I begin and end my day with a book. I don’t think I can stay away from books for too long. The very thought of not having a book at my arm’s reach scares me.ῠ I like reading every genre except science fiction. But broadly speaking, I veer towards fiction and biographies. Probably because human life and human behaviour fascinate me more than anything else.ῠῠῠῠ My most favourite book to date is The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck. I first read it when I was 12 years old and after all these years it still continues to move me with each reading. It captures for me what is best about fiction, the human condition, and it is hallmarked with unforgettable characters, a strong storyline and it does all of this with great economy of thought and expression. I have several second rung favourites. But the list is too long to detail.
I have always been smitten by books rather than authors. There may be just one book of a particular author that I like. It is very seldom that I like an entire body of writing from an author.ῠῠ I have a very simple equation with books. The books that I like very much are the books that live with me. The rest are given away. When a book means a great deal to me, I gift those to very close family members. It is my Plan B. This way, I know that if the need ever arises, I can borrow it back from them.
Rodrigues: Island of clouds & crowds
Five hundred and sixty kilometres east of Mauritius, lost deep in the middle of the warm waters of the Indian Ocean is the tiny island of Rodrigues. It is politically a part of Mauritius, but is actually a world away from what is already a world away for most of us. This small island of volcanic origin, curled up in a lagoon twice its size, is just 18 kilometres long and 6.5 kilometres wide, and is surrounded by a beautiful, largely pristine coral reef. The waters inside the lagoon are as ridiculously turquoise as those surrounding big sister Mauritius, far away to the west.
The whole tenor of our trip started when we flew from Mauritius to Rodrigues, on a domestic flight obviously, since the two islands are part of the same country, albeit 560 km apart. The one and only flight that lands in Rodrigues is the daily flight from Mauritius. So when we arrived we were a little puzzled by the sign for immigration. But we are on a domestic, internal flight, we said. Yes, the immigration officer smiled, I know, but never mind, it’s silly but that’s the law.
Rodrigues is even more laid-back than Mauritius, and is far less touristy. We rented an open-top mini-moke kind of vehicle and zipped around the island, from north to south, from east to west. We even drove up to the highest point on the island, a mere 355 metres, but from which there is a lovely view over the beaches and the surrounding lagoons. Admittedly Rodrigues is so small that covering all the island is easily done, but there’s more than enough to see and do.
The capital of the island is Port Mathurin, and it is the hub of the island. It is the only harbour in Rodrigues, it is the administrative and commercial capital. There is a small bustling commercial heart, with old wooden shops housing hardware shops and general retailers. You can buy baskets, dried fish, lots of hardware which seem to be an island favourite but there is nothing wildly exciting to buy, to be honest, and nothing touristy at all, thank goodness. In two steps you are on the beach past the cannon, past the inevitable statue commemorating a colonial-era administrator, past the fishing nets, and there you are, out of the commercial hub and back on the beach.
Rodrigues’ population is largely Cr ole, that ethnic mix of blacks who came originally from Africa and Madagascar in the 18th and 19th centuries, and the French who settled there in the very early days of colonisation. Unlike Mauritius, where the population is largely of Indian descent, and temples and mosques abound, there isn’t much of an Indian feel to Rodrigues. Most islanders are Catholic, and Sunday is still an important day of the week, when villagers dress up in their Sunday best to go to Mass.
One day, as we were driving along, one of the friends we were travelling with, a “mainland” Mauritian, spotted a sign for a limestone quarry. Perfect, he announced. Rodrigues limestone is famous and I want to order some pieces for my garden back home. So off we go to the quarry, where all was silent. A friendly man wandered over. No, no-one was working today. D sol . Seeing my camera, he asked if I would like to take a photo of him. Wait, he said, I’ll put on a hard hat to make it seem authentic. He then picked up a saw and proceeded to hack away at the limestone, just for the photo. Apologising again for the lack of limestone to sell us, he wished us well, took off his hard hat, and wandered off. All quite eccentric.
We stayed at a pretty little hotel called Mourouk Ebony, on the south-east coast of the island. The architecture is Cr ole, the pool was huge and much to the childrens’ delight, it was designed to look as though it flowed straight into the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean just beyond. There was music and dancing each night, the children played safely on the beach, and when we headed back to “the big island,” as Mauritius is referred to, we seemed to be back in a bustling metropolis.
Soul connection with Sol
By Marryam H. Reshii
Why do I love Madrid so much? I guess it is the energy. After Northern Europe, the Spanish are effusive, loud and full of joie de vivre. In fact, if you’re visiting Madrid over the weekend and like your nights early, take my advice and pack ear-plugs. The early birds in the city and the night-lifers usually greet one another in the streets around 5 am, and it’s not quiet.
I stayed in the small Liabeny Hotel within walking distance from Puerto do Sol, and I suggest that unless you want a quiet holiday (in which case, why come to Madrid?) stay within shouting distance of the iconic Puerto do Sol. It is not unlike Notre Dame in Paris: tourists and locals alike have to traverse it several times a day. If energy flags and your purse is feeling particularly light, all you need do is to find a bench and then just stay put, armed with a bottle or two of water, can of Coke and a newspaper or book. That way, you can spend hours looking at Madrilenas (which is what the people of this beautiful city are called), pretending to read and basking in the warm sunshine (or cool breeze - whatever nature supplies you with) for around three or four hours.
One hot tip: don’t sit on a chair. All restaurants, bars and cafes have chairs in the open air, which are priced higher than those indoors. So sought after are these chairs, that you could go one minute and be the only person in the restaurant. Five minutes later, you may not find an empty seat. When service is over, the chairs are carefully folded one on top of the other. Seekers of free seating have to make do with benches that exist on some roads and in most plazas as well as stone walls around fountains.
Puerto do Sol gets my vote for the most interesting, colourful area of the entire city, but I’d encourage you to find yours. On the plaza itself is the most popular and traditional pastry shop in the city, La Mallorquina, which also serves hot chocolate and churros - a light as air cigar of pastry that is the Madrilena’s accompaniment of choice with hot chocolate. Like all places in this exuberant country, the hottest area to be seen in has no seating. You just stand with your elbows tucked close to you and enjoy the press of beautiful - and not so young or beautiful - people all ordering Coronas de la Almudena with coffee.
That’s what the deal is about tapas. You don’t sit in a bar and order. You stand up at the counter, elbows pressed to your side: you cannot intrude on your neighbour’s piece of real estate, can you? And eat and drink. The name of the game is moderation: you never have more than one drink and one round of tapas at one place, but over six hours, it is easy to throw moderation to the winds.
marryam08@gmail.com
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