'Shanghai-ed'

I had a lot of expectations from Shanghai. Mostly because, in its initial days of production, I thought it was a political thriller involving the Chinese secret service and a plot to nuke India. But apparently, Agent Vinod and Ek Tha Tiger are dealing with the spooks angle. Shanghai, on the other hand, is better than I expected it to be. And its subject matter is much closer to home than the ISI or the Chinese secret service. 


Many critics have called the movie a metaphor. For me, the movie was a metaphor and beyond. Set in an Indian periurban village/town, presumably in north or central India, Shanghai tells the story of an aspiration that the Indian state envisages for its cities; an aspiration which pits decades of faulty governance, lack of infrastructure and a volatile Indian public psyche against the clean, geometric facade of civilization, and corporate governance. 


I won't go much into the plot right now, mostly because I wish to keep this review spoiler free, and partly because I intend to go beyond that. 


In many ways, Shanghai is about contrasts; more so, contradictions. Bharatnagar - the ground zero of the genesis, so to say is where Dr. Ali Ahmadi (a kurta-jhola-beard sporting Leftist) protests against the capitalist state turning the area into a SEZ. His detractors want him out. Not because of the ideological differences; because in India, politics is not about ideology anymore. It's a numbers game, as we see the ruling coalition trying to keep its aspirations alive for this Shanghai - to the extent of murdering the doctor. 


The principal characters Krishnan (Abhay Deol in his finest performance so far), Shalini (Kalki, who is more confused than anything) and Joginder (Emran Hashmi, a fine actor) are caught up in their own agendas; trying to find something to anchor themselves in the turbulent political climes of Bharatnagar. Yet, I would not call any of them protagonists; they're characters, each organically placed in their roles, which makes the film's progression more eased and natural without being caught up to explain their agendas. However what really contributes to the organic nature of the film is the fact that the supporting cast does a brilliant job; from the wily mandarin Kaul, to the Chief Minister and her coalition partner - his cronies, the cops and the plethora of angry political hooligans, the unwitting murderers....it's a myriad picture, both violent and vibrant, and certainly something from which you cannot turn away. 


Cinematically, for me, the winning factor was the cinematography by Nikos Andritsakis. And frankly, for someone who managed to execute a movie like Love, Sex aur Dhoka, I would've expected nothing short of brilliance from Banerjee. There was a constant nervousness in the camera movements, a sense of unpredictability as it captured both the loud morcha scenes, and the quiet, narrow, yet palpable curfewed streets of Bharatnagar. I spoke of contradictions earlier, and it's notable that the cinematography contributes to the visual telling of these contradictions; the government offices, with glass doors, polished conference tables, and the municipal schools, non-functional toilets.


The score, I felt was apt for a movie as intense as Shanghai, and it is what really contributed to the intensity of the film. The most striking feature, however, was Banerjee's use of silence to fill in the gaps - which I believe is the first of its kind I've ever come across in Hindi cinema. My only complaint was Vishal-Shekhar's music which, despite sounding great in the promos on TV, did not have room in the film, and thus, resulted in a slightly jarring effect; the songs consumed more time than what was required. 


Coming back to metaphors, I think Shanghai does more than just talk about the Indian state's aspiration to compete with the world by converting its cities into Shanghais. It is a commentary on the inherent contradictions within the Indian state; contradictions between the welfare role of the state and its capitalistic nature. It is about more than just corruption in the system and the abuse of state power; the corruption runs far deeper, and into the Indian psyches itself. It is a commentary on very nature of Indian politics. Elsewhere, I've mentioned that political parties today are no longer connected to an ideology - be it the right-wing BJP, or the so-called liberal Congress or the Left, or any of India's regional parties - the politics of India in the 21st century is that of anti-ideology; about synthesizing a form by positioning itself against an ideology; increased westernization, neo-liberal policy, and so forth.


What makes Shanghai the film it is, is the fact that Banerjee manages to capture these fine nuances on screen, in its profoundness and yes, you guessed it, contradictions. For some reason, I think of Shanghai as a "muted" film, mostly because of its noted and brilliant use of silence, as I said before, and also because you feel a sense of futility, of being inured to its portrayal of corruption and state sponsored violence. The Delhi HC was right it calling it a accurate description of the state of affairs in India; look the Jaitapur, or Raigad - districts earmarked to become the sites where India would usher in modernity and seal its place in the global economic order.


Shanghai is a warning bell for some alarmists, a time where the Indian state would sell the very people who elect governments to raze areas like Bharatnagar and make them into technological and information hubs, clean buildings, planned streets, and most of all, a populace which is the product of India’s neo-liberal values, who are at best passive consumers and at worse, a stupefied, silenced people. It is also something that would intrigue cynics, because it holds no bars in giving an honest account of the country—that we cannot do without corruption, that we cannot build a township, a sea-link, a sky-walk without our governments and bureaucrats having mud (and often, blood) on their hands. It talks about a genesis, of a violent kind, when our cities become the hallmarks of the modern global world order, in a crass Nehruvian manner of speaking.

This is the India of the 21st century; an amalgamation of contradictions. God, I love this country. And, it seems, the makers of Shanghai do so too. Shanghai is a rare gem of a movie. Many won't like it, because it raises uncomfortable questions. Many like to see the glass as half full. But optimism doesn’t change the fact that the water in it is dirty. 


So long, and Bharat mata ki jai.

Unsettling Scores

It was an evening like any other; I was on vacation, at my ancestral home, with uncles, aunts, grand-uncles, grand-aunts, and every kind if possible relation a person's family tree could offer. The evenings, thankfully, were free of power cuts this time; which meant one thing: the television was on, and it usually fluctuated between soaps, news and cricket, accompanied by the commentary of those who were watching it. 

Me, I was in another room; that is, until I heard a familiar track coming out of the TV room. I listened to it more intently; yes, I have heard it before. It took two seconds more before I realized what it was: Hans Zimmer's 'Pirates Of The Caribbean' theme. Since when my grand-uncles have taken a liking to Jack Sparrow and his antics, I wondered. Curiosity got the best of me, but sadly, I was disappointed. 

On the TV screen there was, oddly enough, no Jack Sparrow. There was a woman, who I deduced was the vamp of the serial; large, murderous eyes with a litre of charcoal under her eyelids, flashy sari, and a wonky bindi which resembled a modern artist's nightmare on canvas. The camera panned to the protagonist; who was dressed austerely; in fact, by the standards of the vamp, this guy had to be naked. He wore a vacant expression, which I'd reclassify as vacuumed. And on the background, was a score that had made Sparrow’s escape memorable.

Predictably, this was out of sync considering the nature of the serial; which I was later told (rather hurriedly) was about infidelity and surrogate children. I took back my comment it the score being out of sync; to describe it as a metaphor would be to say that the Leaning Tower of Pisa would look good with chocolate and cherries on it. Still, that would be funny. This, on the other hand, evoked a mixed-response of hilarity, amusement, and puzzlement.

It is a sad fact that our country’s film, music and television industries are infamous for being plagiaristic. Or as they call themselves, in a first-grader kinda way, copycats. And when these, um, copycats, try to legitimize their copying as inspirations, we have something known as ‘India’s __________’; now this could be anything. Look at all the Woods we have here: Bollywood, Kollywood, Tollywood, and even the strange SandalWood. As for actors, Amitabh Bachchan, for instance, could be called India’s Robert de Niro, Marlon Brando and Sean Connery put into one; Akshay Kumar as ‘India’s Chuck Norris’; and Ram Gopal Varma as India’s Martin Scorsese and Alfred Hitchcock, who, obviously failed at it.  

Okay, I don’t want to insult any more great names this way by drawing absurd references; but you get my point, right?

When it comes to music, though, shamelessness knows no bounds. Music in the Hindi film industry can be classified into two distinct eras; one, when people like R D Burman, Kishore Kumar and their contemporaries made music that was distinctively of their respective eras, like the jive and rock ‘n roll numbers (which sounded just too similar at times), and the classical stuff. And two, that is, a time when Globalization was at its peak, tracks and background scores were lifted shamelessly off Western movies. We, however, beat that too. Kollywood would remake an English movie, which then would be remade by Bollywood, and then finally, and rather horribly, by Tollywood; which until quite recently had just one staple actor and actress, who usually played lovers, and a villain, his side kick, and a veteran who played roles of a cop/doctor, until he got old and played the role of a cool granddad. And then there’s Mithun, who was last seen on a dance reality show. Sorry, got carried away…anyway, about music.

So, how is the situation today? Much better, really. Yes, you have new and upcoming composers like Amit trivedi, Vishal-Shekhar and veterans like Rahman and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, who give Indian music their due respectability and some fantastic scores, if I may add that. Then again, we have people like Pritam, who give plagiarised scores, but ones that at least sound good (I checked if he’s the one who had put the ‘Pirates’ track in the serial; turns out, they didn’t have a music composer).

And of course, how could I forget Himesh Reshamiya. A person who is notorious for singing nasally, in seven out of eight tracks in his own album. Well, he also tends to plagiarise his own numbers…not that any one notices that. Speaking of which where is he?

And, speaking if ‘where’, ‘is’ and ‘he’ again, I wonder where Devang Patel is? If you don’t remember who this mad Gujju fellow was, allow me to refresh your memory. I consider him to be the pioneer of parody music in India. He was India’s Weird Al Yankovic, if I may use that analogy. He never, for a moment, tried to conceal the fact that his songs were plagiarised. Because, they weren’t; they were parodies, and hilarious ones, too!

‘Pichchadi pe kutta katta’ (Who Let The Dogs Out), ‘Hai Kammar’ (Whenever, Shakira), were considered to be classics! And he didn’t leave Indian pop stars of the nineties either; ‘Made In India’ which was a parody of, well, ‘Made In India’ by Alisha Chenoi.

God, where are the good parodies these days?

As I am about to end, I can hear another Hans Zimmer track playing, from ‘Crimson Tide’ in, you guessed it right, in a Bengali serial. In fact, he is one of the most plagiarised musicians on Indian TV, as I gathered through some painstaking (and thoroughly boring) research.

Hindi movies, and even serials, and I might as well add reality shows, too when I am at it, still use plagiarised tracks. And when they have their own tracks, they sound awful. Some Disney shows, though, come up with some very cool tracks; and by that I mean, the Hannah Montana and Jonas type tracks that would only thrill thirteen-year-olds.

As I kid, I grew up on some very good shows, like ‘Hip Hip Hurray’ and ‘Just Mohabbat’, which had some amazing music to it.

If there ever had to be a distinct Indian music of my generation, this would be it; and of course, so would Devang Patel.

Why? Simply because you have to love pioneer when you see one!