Adventures without subtitles: Black (2005)

I had been told many times that I needed to watch Black. For Rani Mukherjee. For its uniqueness. For its style.

Somehow in all of that I never managed to grasp until the opening credits that it was a Sanjay Leela Bhansali film. Perhaps you know my very consistent mixed feelings about that particular gentleman’s films, but if you don’t, here’s an idea: cinematography top notch, first half builds beautifully, plot unravels, depression results, second half crashes and burns. This somehow proved to be the exception to the second half crashing and burning rule, but much of the other stuff remains ever the same. Black is beautifully framed and filtered, with thought behind each shot (although I rolled my eyes at closeups where one can see Rani’s contact lenses) but its plot begins sloping toward the end, and yes, there is a lot of depression lingering around it. But unlike the other SLB films I've seen, Black remains unflinchingly somber, so the sadness meshes better with the rest of the film.

In ways, Black was a great place to start my adventures without subtitles. It has a lot of English and a lot of talking without spoken words, including sign language (which I studied briefly in middle school and so sort of understand).

Aiyaa (2012): Rani Mukherjee's Bollywood stalking at its best/worst

I was disappointed earlier this year when Aiyaa didn’t come to the theaters here. Now that I’ve watched it online, I can kind of see why it didn’t. This movie is a hot mess. And yes, it is hot, and yes, it is a mess.

I love Rani Mukherjee like nobody’s business. If you told me to pick one Bollywood actress, she’d be it (if Kajol wasn’t retired, she might give Rani a run for her money in my affections). I just got through telling someone there isn’t a Rani Mukherjee performance I’ve seen that I haven’t liked.

And then...this.

Oh, yes, I still love Rani Mukherjee. But this movie is a giant pile of WTF.

Rani plays Meenakshi, a bubbly Marathi girl who’s obsessed with filmidom and lives with her head in the clouds — can you really blame her when living in reality means behind a Dumpster in a house shared with a scolding mom, inept father and just plain weird brother who won’t work?

Then she goes to get a job at a library and the interviewing boss is supremely creepy and sounds like he’s selling her into prostitution...yet all she does is work in a library.

Albeit with this finely frightening specimen who has no real purpose in the film:

Maina, who has a vodka monkey and screeches and wears strange things.

Oh, but while there, Meenakshi sees Surya (Prithviraj), a Tamil artist. Head-over-Bollywood-heels in no time flat. Meenakshi is in fact so smitten with Surya that she goes around asking everyone about him. What she comes up with is that he’s on drugs, doesn’t sleep (because he's too busy doing drugs!), squandered his father’s money and so on.

Hello sir. You don't even have to say anything. So you won't.

But, y’know, she can’t help being in love with him — the guy she never speaks to. So she begins learning Tamil so she can impress him by speaking in his own tongue. But alas, sully Surya is unimpressed and does not reply, even in Tamil.

Let the games begin.

The stalking games, that is.

Following someone around because you love them is popular in Bollywood (off the top of my head: Love Aaj Kal (retro storyline), Bombay, even Barfi and Dabangg to a degree). And there’s some Bollywood creeper precedent of Shahrukh Khan sneaking into Rani Mukherjee’s room in K2H2 (bed intruder, yaar) and Aamir Khan sneaking into Kareena Kapoor’s bedroom in 3 Idiots.

But Meenakshi takes it to a whole other level, yo.

Meenakshi follows Surya everywhere. Around campus. Into the bathroom. Home. And she even goes to his house under false pretenses to meet his mother — and steal a painted on T-shirt from his room. 
 

MEENAKSHI BEIN CREEPY FOLLOWIN INTO BATHROOM. STAPH!

Oh, yeah, and Meenakshi and her brother try to buy drugs so she can smell Surya’s scent.

Aiyaa! (Aside: part of me wonders if aiyaa passed into Hindi usage from the Chinese term āiyā, an expression of surprise or a mild curse.)

And then of course amidst all of this, Meenaski’s family is searching for a suitable husband for her. But somehow nobody wants to make an offer.

Who doesn't want to marry this? Even Surya's mom ♥s particularly wacky Meenakshi making up stories about being an orphan!

 
And I respond: WHAT! Stalkerish tendencies aside, who the hell WOULDN’T marry Rani Mukherjee?! (Other than SRK passing over her in K3G for Kajol, anyway.)

Ahem, anyway, the family eventually finds a sweet if dweebish and possibly gay fellow named Madhav. But while Meenakshi likes him well enough, he’s definitely not stalkable like Surya (though she does stand outside Madhav’s door and watch him get dressed...). So of course she’s conflicted between this impending marriage and her tendency to come apart at the seams any time Surya’s within 100 yards.

Oh the choices...

 
Oh, and along the way, we stop for some incredibly sexy dance numbers that Meenakshi is imagining  in her head with Surya. By God, Rani Mukherjee can dance and she has to be one of the sexiest in Bollywood (and 34! what what!).

BUT one of these happens to be the biggest Bollywood WTF song I have ever seen (and that’s including the insanity that is Oh Darling, Yeh Hai India). I get that it’s one big joke about South Indian masala — er, South Indian film star is liking this? — but still... WAT IS THIS BUSINESS?!

 

Meenakshi, you are certainly a weird one.

And no one lets poor Prithviraj talk until the end, when Meenakshi — on her engagement night! — stalks him to his late father’s factory — where he works all night for money has not squandered — and finds out HE DOES NOT DO DRUGS; HE MAKES INCENSE. This revelation is so much that she must, of course, faint. And thus our dear hero*, after carrying her and awakening her, finally speaks!

And what does he tell us? That without acknowledging Meenakshi all film long, he has noticed her stalking. That while Meenaski’s family has been trying to “push her out of her home” (an allusion to her unhappy impending nuptials), she has been trying to “enter his home.”

And somehow he is not only okay with all of this BLATANT CREEPINESS, but he says, “Hey, yo, let’s get engaged!”

?!?!!!?!??!?!?

Yes. On the night she was supposed to be engaged to another man, she instead becomes engaged to the man who hasn’t spoken or acknowledged her all film.

...yes. Thank you, Bollywood, for a happy resolution to stalking. Yes. That is EXACTLY what we needed.

Engagement. The happy ending to stalking.

I forgive very, very large amounts of filmi ridiculousness (mostly all things done in the name of humor, I suppose). I’m not so sure on this one. Maybe I would be quicker to forgive it if it were more funny and less creepy.

Well, at least Rani seemed to have fun making this one:

 



 

Prithviraj is the one wearing less clothes!

*“Prithviraj is so handsome, he is the heroine of the film. He has been fully exploited by the director as he has had to strip and go bare-chested, six pack and all. Usually in Hindi films, the heroine has to look hot.”- Rani, in an interview

^ this is frighteningly true about this film, and though Rani definitely looks hot, this is definitely a heroine-centric film of which she is the star and Prithviraj is the arm candy. I’m not so sure how I feel about that, though I can say part of me is happy that there is such a thing as a heroine-centric film with the man riding shotgun.

Not-so-serious review on Talaash (2012): Let the griping, Kareena-bashing commence [SPOILERS like WHOA]

Why are people smiling in this promo?!
Nobody smiles in this movie.

If you are looking for my serious, mostly spoiler-free thoughts on Talaash, they are in a guest post at theBollywoodFan’s blog. If you’re more interested in my totally spoilery humorous thoughts and love of Aamir Khan’s mustache, you are in the right place here. Because even though I loved pieces of the movie, the whole so frustrated me that I must take out my anger on it in poking fun at it. Especially one Kareena Kapoor.

But before we get into that, let me say that the theater experience for Talaash was something else. My AMC has started screening two Indian films at a time, but they’re usually relegated to small back theaters. When I went to see JTHJ there on a Saturday night two weeks ago, the theater was packed to capacity and I was sitting in the very first row. The same thing happened for Rowdy Rathore. Imagine my surprise when I walk in early for Talaash and notice it’s playing in one of the theaters right next to the concession stand — you know, the ones usually reserved for films like Twilight or the Avengers that have huge hype driving them.

Imagine my even bigger surprise when I walk in and see this is a big big big theater — as big as the IMAX screen that I watched Skyfall on earlier this week. Yes. Really. The theater wasn’t packed to capacity, but the top half was reasonably full, all things considered (unfortunately this included many babies that drove me crazy).

That being said, it was made clear last night that I have gori disease. The one that drives desis to avoid sitting next to me in a theater at all costs. But I know the cure: wait for the lights to go out, and then — no longer able to tell a gori from a desi — they will sit next to you. And the joke is on them.

Why No One Killed Jessica is not a journalism movie

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m a journalist always looking for a good journalism movie. Films overwhelmingly have the tendency to portray journalists either crusaders or scumbags; neither is often very accurate. When I mentioned my quest for a solid Bollywood journalism movie, several people recommended No One Killed Jessica to me.

I put it off and put it off, but recently I finally did sit down and watch the film.

The facts are this: It’s a good film. It’s not a good journalism film.

In case you don’t know, No One Killed Jessica is based on the real-life murder of Jessica Lall: A minister’s fatally son shoots Jessica in a club because she won’t give him a drink. But when the police investigate, the minister’s goons buy off and intimidate everyone away from testifying. Jessica’s sister, Sabrina (Vidya Balan), leads the uphill fight for justice. The court eventually finds the man not guilty and lets him free. But journalist Meera Gaity (Rani Mukherjee), a former war correspondent, refuses to let it go and publicizes the story, eventually helping to work up outrage that reopens the case and results in a guilty verdict.

Why is this a good film? Because it’s a moving story of the tragedy of the murder, a sister’s refusal to give up seeking justice, the painful reality of corrupt Indian politics and legal system, a nation’s outcry over the injustice of it all. And of course there are great performances from Rani and Vidya.

Why is it not a good journalism film? There’s little or — dare I say — no actual journalism in the film about the murders.

No one journalist investigates the murders. All of the damning evidence that later stirs up public fury is effectively dropped in Meera’s lap. She merely goes on television to present it — that’s not journalism. The most any of the other journalists do is insist — and fail in their insistence — that this is a story. Yes, that’s a part of journalism. But to think that journalism ends there — in deciding what is a worthwhile story — is a great, great failure.

Having the guts to talk about a story is important.
But looking pretty for a camera to present evidence
you didn't work for isn't journalism.

Another great problem in treating this film as a picture of journalism comes in the fact that this film definitely steps outside what we consider journalism’s role and bounds. In the United States, potential jurors are screened for their knowledge of a case based on media coverage and then later ordered to avoid media coverage of the case, lest they be influenced or biased by the media’s coverage or encounter evidence that isn’t presented in trial.

The reason? There is a significant danger in conducting trials in the court of public opinion rather than a court of law. Certainly with a corrupt law enforcement system, it’s tempting, but it’s also dangerous. Ask anyone who has been wrongfully accused or, worse, convicted due to media coverage.

And the film entirely ignores this problem. The murderer is tried and convicted in the mind of Meera — and then the minds of the people who watch her news shows — before the evidence truly comes out. That is not justice.

In the film, this, despite being highly problematic, is allowed to work because the man is guilty. It works because we know from the case in real life that the man was guilty.

But in pure journalism terms, I have a significant problem with it.

It is not a journalist’s job to put a man on trial, to prove that he is guilty or innocent. It is a journalist’s job to present the public with the unvarnished facts.

Yes, outrage often spawns reform. But it isn’t a journalist’s job to spawn outrage, either. It’s a person’s right, the public’s right, to decide whether something is outrage-worthy. Using the media to start things like that is a very slippery slope.

Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham revisited: a Bollywood anniversary

Well, the time around Thanksgiving was not just a holiday for me. It also marked my one-year anniversary with Bollywood. Sometime around Thanksgiving (or a little after) last year, I watched my first Bollywood film, Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, with my then-roommate.

I was reluctant to watch it, actually, because of the subtitles. But little did I know what would result! I fell in love with K3G almost immediately (almost meaning after that confusing opening scene that I still don't love) and that was the launching pad to my Bollywood obsession.

Well, on the occasion of my Bollywood anniversary, I wanted to do a list of the 120+ films I've seen in the year since then, but I lost my list somewhere and most of my viewing history was wiped out when I canceled my Netflix account a few months ago. So instead I only get to do the other thing I wanted to: an assessment of how far I've come in that year. Aka watching K3G again and thinking back to the first time I watched it (or even the first three times I watched it within a two-week span because I was introducing it to other people).

I realize now that watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham — whose title I couldn't even remember or pronounce — there were so many things I straight-up didn’t understand. Some of them you think I would with my literary background that has a definite lean toward India and colonialism. But, nope, I was clueless.

Saawariya (2007): SLB got me again!

Saawariya (My Love) (2007):

Gulabji (Rani Mukherjee), a prostitute who frequents RK Bar, recounts the story of the bar’s singer Ranbir Raj (Ranbir Kapoor), who blows into town with his idealism and sweeps right into the hearts of the city’s entire red-light district because he treats them with respect regardless of occupation. One night Raj sees a mysterious frightened and depressed girl dressed in black and follows her, saving her from a drunken man. After escorting her home and learning that her name is Sakina (Sonam Kapoor), he falls in love. Before he can tell her he loves her, Sakina reveals that she’s in love with a man named Imaan (Salman Khan) and that she’s been waiting for him to come back for her for a year. Despite being heartbroken, Raj decides to help her.

This one falls into the all of the same categories as the other Sanjay Leela Bhansali films I’ve seen (Devdas, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam): The cinematography is GORGEOUS, scenes, sets, camera angles, etc.; the cast is top-knotch; and the storyline is, in the end, not what you hope for. Watching SLB films, I think, is a certain degree of masochistic. You have to love the film because it’s just SO well-made that you can’t help but love it, but at the same time, you know it’s going to end badly. Saawariya is no exception. So yes, I’ve done it to myself again with this one, but I know well enough now that I’m definitely steering clear of Guzaarish, which I was only toying with the idea of watching.

Saawariya is oddly reminiscent of Devdas (which, fyi, I have now seen but I can’t seem to form a coherent post that would be welcomed by the public) in possibly too many ways. There’s a hooker, an ultimately doomed friendship between a man and a woman, and a man scorned (if you will) that is the central character.

The cast of this one is pretty much, like I said, great. You have Rani Mukherjee, who I always love; Ranbir Kapoor who, as I’ve said before, you love even when he’s a TERRIBLE character and in this film his character isn’t terrible but pitiable; and Sonam Kapoor, who while possibly not the best has a coy cuteness to her that’s generally likeable. (And also considering, which I didn’t know at the time, that this was Ranbir’s FIRST film, his role is actually remarkable. A fantastic performance all around.) With such an ensemble class of marvelous actors, the film is sure to be liked.

This song is strange in many ways (why is he dancing naked in front of a window? Spending too much time with prostitutes?), but it shows many of the reasons to love Ranbir Kapoor!

The only person who should have been but isn’t a valid addition to the cast is Salman Khan. I feel like Sallu, being the huge box office draw that he is, should have been able to do more. In this film, he’s just there. Maybe it has something to do with remembering Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Aish. I don’t know. All I know is that in a film of great performances, Salman’s just there. And he isn't even there that much. Maybe three or four scenes. He can't even achieve peepeeman status.

Also, Ranbir and Sonam seem to play well off of one another. Sonam plays a mostly dour role for most of this film and Ranbir (in and out of this role) is a nearly constant source of light and joy that’s infectious, so the pair works well. 

Sonam mopes while Ranbir smiles, but it works for a pair.

 

In a previous post about Dil Bole Hadippa, Paagal Papaya and I talked about how Rani Mukherjee while not old has a maturity to her that didn’t mesh well with youngster Shahid Kapoor in that film. I was afraid the same might be true of Rani and Ranbir, but with a blend of seductive pessimism and naïve optimism, they mix as well as Ranbir and Sonam despite the acting age/maturity gap. Even when the dynamic of the relationship abruptly shifts from an older, worldly woman toying with a young, idealistic man to something darker, it still works. I think maybe Ranbir is like Aamir Khan where he’s just such a great personality he can’t help but have chemistry with everyone.

 1. I love watching Rani dance. 2. She works as well with him even though she plays a prostitute!

Again, the cinematography is beautiful in this movie, and like Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Devdas before it, Saawariya has some scenes that are just so aesthetically beautiful they literally took my breath away. I can’t figure out the exact setting, which looks like Venice with its waterways but is distinctly Muslim. If anyone can shed light on that, I’d be much obliged.

And another thing I’ve noticed about the cinematography of SLB movies – they have a signature color. Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam was markedly red, Devdas was gold, and Saawariya is blue. The blue and the fact that this entire film seems to take place at night give the film an eeriness that led Paagal Papaya to refer to SLB as “the Tim Burton of Bollywood.” With the sorrowful underpinnings that run through all of his films and the particularly dark tones of this film (there are flashes of ever-joyous Raj being downright violent), I’d have to say that’s possibly an apt comparison.

Color progression: Bright, flamboyant red...

Rich gold...

Creepy blue.

SLB films tend to make a statement and make it boldly. Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam is about the validity of marriage and maturation. Devdas is about doomed love and the pain of life. Even without seeing it, I know Guzaarish is about having the right to die on your own terms. Saawariya… Maybe gets a little mixed. To a degree, it’s definitely about choosing to fight unhappiness. Other than that… Not really sure.

It almost feels like a reversal of Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam. In HDDCS, Nandini goes from the immature love fling she has with Sameer into understanding how deep Vanraj’s love for her is because that he’s willing to sacrifice everything for her happiness. In Saawariya, Sakina has a very childish fling thing for (not even WITH) Imaan and Raj sacrifices for her happiness to bring them back together, but Sakina ends up going right back to Imaan, who’s pretty much ditched her until then, when he arrives. I don’t know – maybe SLB just thinks young love is doomed and only “mature” duty-driven love will survive.

Happy? If you were, SLB says you're doomed to a duty-love instead. Obviously Sakina is obsessed with duty-love.

 Overall, if you can stand the masochism of SLB films and the fact that this one’s slightly incoherent as far as statement goes, it’s worth watching for the aesthetics and the chemistry of most of the cast.

Veer-Zaara (2004): Good Effort, So-So Results

A love story between, well, Veer and Zaara.

SPOILER WARNING: I can’t talk about this one without going into plot detail, so read at your own risk.

Veer-Zaara is a love story that transcends the boundaries between India and Pakistan. Indian Air Force pilot Veer Pratap Singh (Shahrukh Khan) meets and falls in love with carefree Pakistani Zaara Haayat Khan (Preity Zinta) when she comes to India to take her beloved Sikh governess’s ashes to the Sutlej River. He then helps Zaara and subsequently invites her to his village, where she meets his mother and father (Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini), who have basically built the village. She positively influences girls’ education in the village, and Veer falls in love with her before he takes her to catch her train back to Lahore. At the train station, they encounter Zaara’s fiancé. Despite this and the fact that traveling to Pakistan forfeits his career with the Indian Air Force, Veer goes to Lahore to stop Zaara’s wedding.

Zaara’s fiancé Raza (Manoj Bajpai), chosen by her father as a way to enhance his political standing, has Veer thrown in jail as a traitor and swears him to secrecy on Zaara’s honor. He then has Veer’s bus to India crash, thus spreading the word that Veer has died.

Fast forward 22 years to a sullen, silent, almost insane Veer who has spent most of is life in a Pakistani jail. He meets with an idealistic young lawyer, Saamiya Siddiqui (Rani Mukherjee), who wants to argue his case and free him. He tells her the story of his relationship with Zaara as a flashback, but he requires she not mention Zaara when arguing his case. Saamiya eventually goes to India looking for Veer’s parents and finds instead that Zaara has been living in his parents’ house, teaching the girls of the village after Veer’s parents have died. So devastated about hearing of Veer’s death, Zaara never married Raza and came to the village instead. Saamiya tells her the truth and brings her to testify at Veer’s trial in Pakistan, where they are reunited.

And 22 years later, we are old. Somebody did good makeup.

I think overall, this film’s plot arc is a gorgeous attempt to show love that transcends culture, religion, time and the rather… rocky relationship between India and Pakistan. Despite the fact that I almost feel like the whole plot is invalidated by the fact that both have been alive and well for 22 years, each thinking the other is dead or married… it’s an attempt to show a truly enduring love.

Not my favorite jodi, but they work together all right.

And as with any Yash Chopra film, you know the cinematography is top-knotch and the songs are brilliant.

It’s also always fun to see how Indian movies deal with Pakistan. This one was a mix. It had some really nice Pakistanis like Saamiya and Zaara, but there was also a lot of cruelty in the Pakistani judicial system (Veer’s been mistreated for 22 years without justice before Saamiya comes along). Overall, the Pakistani men seem singularly bad but the women are OK.

I think what may have happened was this film was that it tried to take on too much. The typical family problems, love transcending culture, India-Pakistan relations, justice for prisoners, women's rights, women's education... It gets to be a little overwhelming.

For all of these things, the film gets an A for effort. For how it actually turned out, it gets a B. I think this film is overall pretty good but not great. The scenery was great, the people were mostly great, but overall, I can’t say I was completely wowed. Other than what I just said, I can’t find much else to say other than about the people involved.

Scenery: What an EPIC way to cross a river. I WANT ONE OF THESE.

Seeing AB Sr. and Hema Malini’s “special appearances” was great. AB Sr. (with his ever-atrocious hair) has never not been a plus as far as I’m concerned. ’nuff said.

I love Daddy!Big B. How can you not?

 Preity Zinta’s not exactly my favorite actress. I liked her better in this than anything else I’ve seen her in, but I still wasn’t overly wowed. Sometimes she was sprightly, but sometimes she was just… there. Her playback voice in this film was extremely obnoxious too.

As much as I love Rani Mukherjee (which is like, a lot), I don’t think she filled her role in this one. She plays Saamiya Siddiqui, a female lawyer in Pakistan, struggling to do “meaningful” law work instead of just arguing the cases for money like her former employer Zakir Ahmed (Anupam Kher… also always nice to see him).

But perhaps the best part of this film for me? You should see this coming… SRK! I can’t help it. I’m constantly reminded of how much I love that man. In uniform, with random blond streaks, wearing cowboy boots (<3), old and gray… I love SRK! Pardon picspammage below.

The better question is how much do I love YOU in that uniform. The answer is A LOT.

I couldn't get a good pic of this, but he was wearing cowboy boots. dhaphdafphdafha

I've been told SRK gets better with age. He will be a fiiiine old man.

He also had unexplained blond hair, which was weird but OK.

In honor of India-Pakistan in the World Cup: Dil Bole Hadippa! (2009)

First official film post! This feels exciting!

So in honor of today’s India-Pakistan match (what a loaded thing that is) in the Cricket World Cup (which only Mighty Mango is watching; Kiwi and Papaya are otherwise occupied), it’s only fitting to talk about a cricket movie. Now, as fantastic a movie as Lagaan is, as close as it came to being first, I don’t think a movie could get more perfect for this day than Dil Bole Hadippa! (2009).

If you’re not familiar with it, Dil Bole Hadippa is the Bollywood remake of the 2006 Amanda Bynes movie She’s the Man, which is in turn a loose take on Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. She’s the Man is on all of our top lists for American movies (Paagal Papaya can pretty much quote you the whole movie she’s watched it so many times).

Thus, we had great expectations for this movie from the get-go, even if we don’t fully understand cricket. Call it what you will, but they just don’t play cricket in our neck of the woods; it’s baseball, which is much, much simpler. (The Mighty Mango had some exposure to the sport when traveling in Australia about six years ago, but that was brief and mostly forgotten.) We pretty much have Lagaan and Dil Bole Hadippa to thank for our cricket knowledge (and now a little bit of World Cup coverage).

The story, then, of both She’s the Man and Dil Bole Hadippa revolve around a young girl (Viola and Veera, respectively) who plays a sport (soccer/football and cricket) but has no girls team available to her. The solution? Dressing up like a man and pretending to be your own brother. The complication? Falling in love with your team captain (which being either Channing Tatum or Shahid Kapoor, we can totally understand). The love triangle (which becomes a quadrangle or a pentagon or maybe even a hexagon) is a hundred times more complicated in She’s the Man, but that’s the basic premise.

And everything culminates in THE BIG GAME. (Dun dun dun!) For She’s the Man, it’s a high school rivalry. In Dil Bole Hadippa, it’s a little more loaded: a match between India and Pakistan that India has been losing for several years running, so India’s the clear underdog.

Our overall opinion of the movie? Pretty good. Good enough that we watched it twice within a week. Good enough that we ran out and bought it right away? Mmm, maybe not that much. Four out of five stars on our Netflix.

Reasons to watch:

Rani Mukherjee as a man. Come on, this is hilarious even if she is way too pretty to be a man. And at times more believable than Amanda Bynes as a man.

Shahid Kapoor. Mmm. Isn’t this always a good reason to watch a film? The first time we watched it, during the long opening credits, Paagal Papaya says: “Can we fast-forward to Shahid Kapoor’s face, please?” He's as much a reason to watch this one as Channing Tatum is to watch She's the Man.

Shahid and Rani are fantastic dancers. Every song is great just to watch them.

Shahid + Rani when arguing! In this, great jodi. All the wackiness and pizazz and sassy anger works out great.

Reasons not to watch: (mostly credibility issues)

Rani Mukherjee as a man. It may be hilarious, but believable? Whoever’s job it was to hide her womanish figure did a HORRIBLE job and she needed some coaching on masculine body language/movement.

Shahid Kapoor as a British Indian. Not British. At all. Not believable.

Shahid + Rani jodi when not arguing: the sparks leave when the jabs do. A magazine review we read said they prefer Shahid with a younger heroine. While we’re incensed at the jab to Rani (who is so not old), we understand what they mean. Even when bubbly and crazy, Rani has a sense of maturity to her (not a bad thing). Shahid feels too young.

The way that Veera’s charade is exposed to Rohan (Shahid): Her contact lens falls out on his hand when he tackles her to the ground after a great catch during the match. …really? Her contact falls out on his hand? But after jumping on top of her, he can’t feel her womanly curves? Um, fail.

The end resolution feels flat. You never get the actual make-up scene between Rohan and Veera after an explosive argument when he finds out she’s, well, not the man.

The impossible situation of the match. Pretty much all sports movies have this flaw: The climax scene is just not likely. How likely is someone to stay in batting after breaking their arm? Not very. How likely are refs (umpires?) to let someone play with a broken limb? Not very.

If Mighty Mango can step in briefly with a little bit of college knowledge… In literary studies, we talk about the “willing suspension of disbelief” when reading novels. That is, the author makes the assumption that the reader will come into it knowing it’s fiction and not expecting reality and so the author takes liberties with reality. Films are the same way – there’s a level of willingly acknowledging that things are almost always going to work out too perfectly or that special effects happen in movies that aren’t reality. But the problems with Dil Bole Hadippa aren’t factors that deserve your willing suspension of disbelief – they’re little things that could have been fixed very easily that just got ignored instead.

Overall, excepting those moments of minor plot fail, it was pretty decent. The movie is fun, it has a good patriotic Indian feel to it, and it’s even generous toward losing Pakistan.

Well, that's all for now. Today, chak de India! Beat Pakistan and go on to the finals!

EDIT: Yay, India! Shabash! Now on to beat Sri Lanka for the title!

Paagal Papaya's (tentative) Favorites

Well. For starters, let me just say that I'm not going to be as good of a writer as the Mighty Mango, just so you know. Also, I'm not really sure how to navigate this thing really well yet (hence my thing won't be as pretty or well-organized as the Mighty Mango's) so if I do something dumb you'll just have to forgive me.

OK. To start off, let me just say this: I do not feel like I've seen enough Hindi films/heroes/heroines to choose definite favorites. Even though I've seen a lot, there's much more to be seen, and there always will be much more to be seen. There are also films I've seen that has someone in it that I'd like to see more of or I haven't seen enough of that hero/heroine to make a fair judgment on them. That being said, my "favorites" will keep changing.

My favorite hero(es)?

Hmm. Good question. Well, a favorite, would, most certainly, have to be Shah Rukh Khan, of course. Unlike the Mighty Mango, he was not (technically) my first Bollywood hero. However, he was one of my firsts, and I watched two of his movies back-to-back (K3G and K2H2), and decided I love him. That was just cemented when I saw Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and DDLJ. And he was incredibly cute and rather convincing in My Name is Khan. At first, I struggled with his face not being particularly attractive to me, but I got over it and fell in love with his overall charm. Yeah.

Another favorite would have to be Akshay Kumar. He's just so freaking funny to me. I think Tees Maar Khan was the first movie I saw with him in it (I know, crazy, right?). A lot of people said that movie was horrible, and while it was incredibly bizarre, I thought it was funny, and it made me interested in seeing more Akki. And while I roll my eyes sometimes at his "oh yeah, I'm hot" attitude, I still love him and he makes me laugh.

Now, from the... err, "younger" or "newer" generation, I guess you'd say, I have a few favorites. But for some reason my brain classifies them as different from my aforementioned favorites. First, Imran Khan. I'm not sure why I love Imran, but he's so cute and I just want to pinch his cheeks. lol that sounds kinda weird but whatever. Also I really like Shahid Kapoor. Whoo, he's not bad to watch at all ;).

There's a few others that I wouldn't call favorites but I would certainly like to see more of so that I can form a better opinion, such as Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, Hrithik Roshan, Abhishek Bachchan, John Abraham, and Ranbir Kapoor. And there's a bunch that I haven't seen any movies that they're in but have heard great things about that I'd like to see.

My favorite heroine?

Yes, well. Just like my heroes, I think I have multiple heroines. But first, of course, I have Kajol. Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't just because I love SRK. She can totally stand on her own. However, I do love her with him; pretty much all of their films are favorites. But I love her because she's just so, like... fun, I guess. She's goofy but gorgeous, zany but lovely. It surprised me how she could go from being somewhat spazzy in K2H2 and K3G to being a serious, protective, and jealous mom in We Are Family and a sheltered blind girl in Fanaa. I just really like her.

Secondly, I like Rani Mukherjee. I think she's absolutely beautiful (*jealousss* :P). Besides that, I don't know. I just really like her. She's funny. And her performance in Dil Bole Hadippa! says to me that she's not really afraid to be un-pretty, seeing as how she's playing a man (even though it didn't really work. I mean, c'mon, she was still pretty). OH, and in K2H2 also because in the dying scene she's not wearing any makeup. I still like her in K2H2 even though she's sort of "the other woman."

I'll just make passing mentions of some others. I like Priyanka Chopra, I think. I'm trying to form a more complete opinion on her, trying to step back and make myself say "OK. WHY do you like her? Form an actual opinion." So I'll let you know on that one. Another is Kareena Kapoor. Hmm, I'm trying to go back through my brain's archives and dig out some thoughts on her. I think most of the movies I've seen her in she's played more secondary roles, so maybe that's why I don't have many thoughts on that. However I did enjoy her performance in We Are Family, trying to cope with being viewed as "the other woman" and cope with being young and being left with 3 kids. Another person was Katrina Kaif. I'm not really sure about her. I love her with Akki, but the only thing I've seen her in sans-Akki is New York, which I watched too long ago to even remember her performance. So, with Akki, yes; without Akki... mmm, the jury's still out on that one.

There's also a lot of other heroines I would love to see more of, like Aishwarya Rai, Genelia, etc.

My favorite film?

As with the other categories, I have multiple favorites. Really, can you ever just pick one? I don't think so.

Well, one of my favorites, for starters, would have to be Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. I just love it, the whole thing. Period. Also, I love Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi. So funny! And I just wanted to pinch Shahrukh's little geeky cheeks. He was so cute. Another favorite is Dostana, which I found hilarious and crazy. Oh, and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, of course. SRK and Kajol, I just think they're so funny and good together. I like I Hate Luv Storys too. It was funny and I liked how Jai wasn't like the classic hero or whatever, but it ended up being a love story anyways. And how they made fun of a lot of films. Another favorite is Welcome. Dude, that movie was crazy! I was like "What?! HAHAHA. Wait what?!" the whole time. And I found it hilarious, even if the Mighty Mango didn't find it quite so hilarious. All my descriptions of these movies probably sound really shallow and aren't really good descriptions of why I love them, but they'll have to do for now. Sorry!

Aaand this was a lot longer than I was intending, but you know how Bollywood goes.