What Dreams May Come: Luck By Chance

For the first time in nearly ten years, I can find the tiniest little regret that I decided to leave behind the world of film making. It's not a serious one or even one that will last the week out but watching Luck By Chance, I was just a little bit sad for the choices I had made and thankful that that relentless cheerfulness in the face of everyday failure need not be mine. All that ambition, all that networking (what a polite word it is), that resentment, pushiness, and keeping an eye on the main chance - so exhausting.

Banno says:

A filmmaker friend recently said to Teja, "I'm going to make only commercial films now." Yes, you can make a choice to make commercial films, if you know the stars and the CEOs of the production houses. But if you don't, can you do anything but make a low-budget film without stars and probably, without release? Or worse, sit at home, wondering what you should do with yourself.

Corporate job, alcohol, table tennis, blogging, cricket, poetry, teaching, video rental store, general store, accu-pressure, yoga, drugs, sex, affairs, violence, drudgery, tantra, mantra, rings, numerology, boredom.

All that and more besides. It must be - it is - a film that cuts too close to the bone for everyone who is or ever was a part of it. My favourite bit (apart from Farhan Akhtar, I need hardly add. I now officially have a crush on him) is the title sequence with its patent affection for every bit of this mad, separate universe and those who people it.

Madhur Bhandarkar should watch (with his scriptwriter, of course) this film and learn something -anything - from it.

Go Banno!

For the most kickass (kickest-ass? kick-assest?) account of watching Ghajini, please go read Banno:

A long note on short term memory after the opening credits totally went past Chris who was still shuffling around in his seat, excited at being in an Indian cinema house.

The opening scene with a computer graphic map of the brain, and a medical college lecture that went "The brain is the king of all organs. The brain controls all the other organs" invited a small snort from him.

Medical student Sunita finds a file on Sanjay Singhania. She pretends interest in his condition of short term memory but actually she thinks he's cute. Her professor rightly judges that and asks her to stay away as SS is a police case. 'But, but ... ', she says. He glares at her, she looks down meekly. She wonders what SS is doing right now.

SS was on a killing spree.
He took out his Polaroid, Chris gasped.
SS made notes, Chris stopped breathing.
SS went home, Chris made a small gurgling sound when he saw the maps on the wall.
SS went to the bathroom, and a note asked him to remove his T-shirt. His 6 pack body was revealed with tattoos all over it.

SS's eyes popped out, and he made growling animal sounds. Chris's eyes popped out, and he made growling animal sounds.

He flung himself out of the chair and stomped out. Teja's tub of popcorn was scattered all over the floor.

I hissed: "Does he know that cost 65 rupees?"

Teja remonstrated: "It's not a huge amount for him. And he's angry right now, Banno."

I said: "I don't care. Go get me more popcorn. And get him to pay for it, if you can."

Teja found Chris stalking before the uniformed boys lined up before him, in their uniform 'Ghajini' haircuts.

"What's with this haircut?", he was saying. "Do you know my film is about memory and how it plays tricks on the best of us, and how it's the basis of the identity we create for ourselves, and who we are, and all that? What's this hair got to do with it?"

Teja calmed him down and said: "Haircuts are an important part of actors' performances here, Chris. They are crucial to the actor's interpretation of the character."