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Yes well, I figured the best way to know about a film was to ask you guys.
And sure enough, lots of reviews coming in, mostly about Boyz (speaking of reviews coming in, do note, there is no rule to this thing if you happen to see a film, in any language whatsoever, that you feel is worth writing about, go for it).
Having read all this, I still can't tell who's fussing, and why -- consensus, with the occasional hold-out -- seems to be that though the film has its quota of vulgarity, it has redeeming moments as well. I need to see this movie asap, if only to find out for myself -- and also to see if what Shankar once told me about his movie-making philosophy still holds good.
Meanwhile, this whole thing reminds me of what an American judge once said, while hearing an obscenity trial relating to Lady Chatterley's Lover: 'I refuse to believe,' he said, or words to that effect, while arguing that D H Lawrence's novel has more than the odd sex scene going for it, 'that the average reader of this book waded through hundreds of pages merely in order to learn of the sex habits of the average English gamekeeper.'
Can't answer for the exactness of the quote, but that is the sense of it. Incidentally, I got this one a long time ago, while reading Irving Wallace's The Seven Minutes, a book that for all its manufactured drama, I liked because for a teenager tentatively exploring the whole birds and bees thing, it set out very nicely the arguments, pro and con, on the question of pornography.
It also induced me to read Sigmund Freud's An Elementary Introduction to Psychoanalysis, but that is another story. To stick to the current theme, imagine someone making a film, in today's India, based on an obscenity trial -- like, wow, the inherent dramatic possibilities are enormous.
And here, gratis for all amateur -- and in case they are reading this, professional -- scriptwriters out there, here is another potential theme culled from recent news reports, gratis:
Remember how a few weeks back, there was this item about Pakistan releasing a bunch of Indian fishermen who had, apparently inadvertently, crossed into Pakistani waters and been held prisoner for lo these many years?
One of those unfortunates was very young when he was captured and incarcerated. After his release, he returned to his hometown, Shimoga.
His first stop was his own home. He knocked on the door, his ageing, ailing mother opened it. He told her who he was; she told him to get out. Apparently she couldn't recognize her own son, he had aged so much in prison.
He tried telling her about incidents from his childhood, he did all he knew to try and convince her and other members of his family -- no dice.
Among the things that went against him was the fact that thanks to his prolonged incarceration in a Pakistani jail, he had picked up the local lingua franca, but become rusty in the use of his own language. 'Go away,' his mom shooed him, 'you can't even speak the language and you claim to be my son?'
His story, which I read in a Tamil magazine, talked of so many little incidents. Like the time he went to a barber shop, you know, the kind with garish posters of film-stars and even more garish calendars featuring our gods and goddesses? (No deluge of hate mail on this please, calling me anti-Hindu -- I am calling the calendars, not their subjects, garish).
So he was sitting there, swathed in that cloth, and happened to look up and saw the year on the calendar. 2003. And it was then that it hit him like a hammer blow, just how much of his life he had lost.
Not, mind you, that he wasn't aware of the elapsed years -- but sometimes, you know something, yet a trivial little thing can bring that knowledge home to you in ways you just can't bear.
So that is his story -- Rip Van Winkle for real, circa 2003. He now reportedly lives with a distant relation who took pity on him; he can't figure out what to do with his life because he for sure can't go back to the sea, and he knows nothing else he can do.
And if that doesn't make for a sensitive, gripping film possibility, damned if I know what does.
Anyone want to give it a shot? My 'finder's fee' is a free ticket to the opening night of the film, as and when made.
Meanwhile, over to you guys, and your reviews. Catch you, same place, more or less the same time, in here tomorrow.
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