'Sita Ramam' is a love story in its purest form and here's why it has connected with the masses

One opinion that many movie lovers share is that there is a dearth of classics and captivating love stories that feel like a warm hug. Sita Ramam has managed to somewhat rectify this. 

Despite the fact that the story may not be well-known to you, the audience will still feel the film's main emotion and dynamic as it is experienced by the characters.

While Bollywood films still struggle to find a home in the hearts of theatre audiences, they perform well on OTT. South films, on the other hand, have proven to be a huge success in theatres and on OTT platforms both.

Hanu Raghavapudi's old-world romance story 'Sita Ramam' is one such film that has left everyone awestruck. 

Dulquer Salmaan and Mrunal Thakur give endearing performances that contribute to the movie's sincerity.

Sita Ramam’s Plot

Through two timelines—1964 and 1984—Sita Ramam solves the mystery surrounding its protagonists, Sita Mahalakshmi and Lt. Ram. In order to find Sita and deliver a letter that Ram has written for her, 20 years ago, Afreen, a student of Pakistani descent, travels from London to India. Balaji, a college senior who is presently in Hyderabad, assists her in delivering the letter to Sita.

The Reasons Why The Film Became So Popular Among the Masses

Storyline Is Heart-Felt

Sita Ramam has a universal language of love, and the plot has been nicely fleshed out. This is a film that has been suggested by many individuals, and word of mouth has played an important role in promoting the film due to the sincere nature of the plot.

On the premise that humanity matters more than conflict, boundaries, and religion, Hanu, Raj Kumar Kandamudi, and Jay Krishna wrote the screenplay and script.

The ensemble cast, the abundance of sentiments, the sense of whimsy, and the fact that "Sita Ramam" is so colorful for a period drama give the entire picture a lovely vibe. The sequences in the film between the main characters are meant to evoke sentiments of melancholy.

Sita And Ram’s Love Story Evokes All Sorts Of Emotions

Despite religious turmoil and war, the passion between the lovers endures; it's one of the most wonderful aspects of our country, its diversity. The story revolves around Ram, an orphan boy played by Dulqer Salmaan, who joins the army and receives the love of the nation through letters for his valor on the battlefield. While responding to the numerous letters, Ram comes across one from Sita Mahalakshmi played by Mrunal Thakur, in which she pretends to be his wife. In order to solve the mystery behind the letter and actually put a face to his imagination, Ram becomes immersed in her writings. The plot is about Ram meeting Sita and how their lives are altered.

A love story with unexpected surprises at every turn, Sita Ramam has viewers on the edge of their seats the entire time. Despite the fact that you may have seen a lot of Indian-Pakistan war movies, a love tale from that perspective is unusual.

The Acting And The Characters

Ram Played By Dulquer Salmaan

Once again, Dulquer Salmaan has captured our hearts. He has often impressed us with the way he acts and his performance's simplicity and honesty. Nobody else could have portrayed Ram in the movie, in our opinion. He uses all of his charms to depict it in an elegant and innocent way. The character of Ram is portrayed as a pure soul who is ready to put himself in danger by standing between a group of Muslims and a party of Hindus in order to prevent terror from falling on Kashmir. While maintaining his patriotism, Ram looks beyond religion and for him, humanity comes first.

From making the ultimate sacrifice for the safety of the country to playing the nice guy, he masterfully captured every feeling, and at the end of the movie, many will find themselves teary-eyed.

Sita Mahalakshmi Played By Mrunal Thakur

Although her character had some vulnerable moments, it was good to see Mrunal play a strong character in her debut Telugu movie. For the most part, she handled herself with grace and elegance. Mrunal was able to portray the audience's emotional upheavals by putting herself in the shoes of her character, Sita.

Afreen Played by Rashmika Mandanna

Rashmika Mandanna is not depicted as an audience eye candy and is instead portrayed as a strong-headed girl with her own beliefs. The film featured not one but two leading female actors who performed admirably in both roles. Afreen, a Pakistani character, had issues with resentment toward India and Indians, but it was great to watch her progress towards the end. 

Sachin Khedekar, Sunil, Priyadarshi, Bhumika, Jisshu Sengupta, Prakash Raj, Praneeta Pattnaik, and Rahul Ravindran are among those who briefly appears in the film.

The Additional Effects By The Team To Give The ‘Oomph’ Factor

The Cinematographer

The Sita Ramam crew did an excellent job, especially the cinematographers P S Vinod and Shreyaas Krishna, who were able to capture the spirit of the movie in two different time periods and the stunning Kashmir with its frozen topography in all its majesty and rawness. 

Production And The Art Direction

The production design by Sunil Babu, the art direction by Vaishnavi Reddy and Faisal Khan, the costumes by Sheetal Sharma, and the Peter-pan collar blouses for Sita all helped define the 1960s and the 1980s well.

Soulful Music Adds The Spark

The uplifting score from Sita Ramam has recently become very popular. Vishal Chandrasekhar wrote the music and soundtrack. Oh, Sita Hey Rama was the first song, then afterward came S. P. Charan's rendition of Ala Nemaliki's Inthandam Reprise. According to the composer himself, every song in the film is an extremely odd combination of different ragas.

Sita Ramam is not like today's love stories

Sita Ramam is a story of sincere and unadulterated love. The movie entirely does not contain any forced or unpleasant humor. The gorgeous Kashmiri locations and set in the 90s add to its uniqueness. Probably because it's set in simpler times, there are no unnecessary, pretentious, and over-the-top gestures of love. It's authentic and not a made-up tale of love in its purest form. 

In an interview with TNN, Dulquer, who portrays the role of army commander Ram, discusses how the movie differs from other love stories.

“He’s an orphan who’s very happy-go-lucky by nature. As an army man, he’s very patriotic and bound by duty. Sita is this girl next door who begins writing letters to Ram while he’s away on duty. She’s independent and progressive, but who she is and why she falls in love with Ram is what the film is all about.”

The Mythology Reference In The Film

The movie also defends the Ramayana, a Hindu epic that served as a loose inspiration. When Ram saves Sita, a fire traps the duo, precisely like in the scene from the movie Sita Ramam. Ram sets out to find Sita, whose whereabouts remain unclear in the film. The myth is mentioned frequently, yet it is done so delicately that the main plot remains on track.

Sita Ramam Ending Explained

(Spoiler alert: Retreat at this point if you are yet to watch the film)

Final Page Of The Love Story

Afreen is given the final chapter of Sita and Ram's tale by Vishnu. He admits that the burden of his deeds' remorse has been causing him pain for the past 20 years. Additionally, he says that Waheeda, the young woman Ram tried to save when he was taken prisoner by the Army, is actually none other than Afreen herself. Afreen was filled with shame and disbelief as she realized that an Indian, whom she had previously detested, had risked his life to save her.

The letter is delivered to Sita in Kashmir by Afreen's senior, Balaji. Ram got to know that she was Princess Noorjahan when he was imprisoned and got hold of a  newspaper clipping stating that "Princess Norrjahan fell in love with a simple guy". He refers to this letter as the last page of their relationship, declaring his love for her and mourning the time they wasted.

Ram was accused of betraying the Nation but Sita disclosed the truth with the letters as proof and was able to clear Ram of all charges. Due to guilt and an inability to endure the disgrace that would come with realizing the truth, Vishnu kills himself as Vishnu was the traitor and not Ram.

As a result of the change of heart, Afreen can now look past her earlier animosity toward the country and appreciate its compassion. Sita responded, "No," when Afreen enquired whether Ram is still alive.

(Source: India Times)

For every KGF 2, there's a Jai Bhim. A balance that South has, Bollywood doesn't

After Baahubali, a handful of films from the South have dominated the Hindi belt and the global market. But for every RRR or Pushpa or KGF, there's a Jai Bhim. Here's how South cinema manages this intricate balance.

Let's go back to 2010. Enthiran (Robot in Hindi), starring Rajinikanth and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, and directed by Shankar, managed to set the screens on fire. Enthiran is probably the first film to attain pan-India success. In 2015, SS Rajamouli's Baahubali: The Beginning made everyone sit up and take notice of regional cinema. Rajamouli followed it up with Baahubali: The Conclusion, which received greater critical acclaim and commercial success.

Today, films from the South have become super hit ventures in the Hindi belt, normally dominated by the Khans, Kumars and Kapoors. Allu Arjun's Pushpa: The Rise, Jr NTR and Ram Charan-starrer RRR and Yash's KGF: Chapter 2, despite being regional cinema, have performed exceptionally well in the North belt. In short, South films have breached northern territory.

The common talking point in all these films is its larger-than-life scale and hypermasculinity. So, is South cinema bringing the 80s back?

IS SOUTH CINEMA BRINGING THE 80s BACK?

To understand that, let us tell you what we mean when we say '80s cinema'. In the 80s, films were mostly about the hero overcoming all odds and emerging as the saviour of the masses. Are films in the 2010s and 2020s following the trend? The answer would be a big no.

Commercial films have always been about superheroic, larger-than-life heroes. Be it Tamil, Telugu, Hindi, Malayalam or Kannada, our heroes are capable of anything and everything. Our heroes survive bomb blasts, bash up 100 people and yet remain unscathed. This trend will never go away as it is ingrained in our blood and minds.

Then, why do films like RRR, Pushpa and KGF work well in the Hindi belt? It is safe to say that Bollywood's recipe for a masala or mass film has been failing for over a decade. None of the commercial films has been able to make a mark beyond a certain point. This is where South films differ.

Directors down South nail the perfect recipe for a mass film. Of course, there are duds. But, commercial films, when done right, will transcend borders. And the recent examples are a testament to the theory. Take for example RRR's interval block, who would have thought that Jr NTR's Komaram Bheem would unleash a bunch of wild animals in his attack against the British. Here, we must give credit to SS Rajamouli's wild imagination. He also executed the scene with the utmost perfection. So much so that it made us jump from our seats.

Similarly, when Yash's Rocky in KGF fires bullets against the villains, you cheer, hoot and whistle for him. That is the magic of commercial cinema. And it takes a lot of imagination, conviction and perseverance to get it right.

SO, IS SOUTH CINEMA JUST THAT? MASSY?

Is South cinema all about mass and commercial films? Again, a resounding no. For every RRR, Baahubali and Pushpa, there are films like Jai Bhim, The Great Indian Kitchen, Kaala and Pariyerum Perumal. In the South, there's a market for every kind of cinema. Be it commercial or art house films, the audience embrace them with the same love.

VERSATILITY IS THE KEY

Malayalam cinema has been spearheading a change in the way films are being conceived and told. Films like Premam, Kumbalangi Nights and Jallikattu have proven the fact that content is king. One can take a simple story, but when it has solid substance, it does wonders at the box office.

Coming to Kollywood, Suriya's Jai Bhim, which skipped theatrical release, moved the audience and created a lasting impact. The film did ruffle a few feathers. But, at its core, Jai Bhim had a solid story. Similarly, filmmakers like Vetri Maaran, Pa Ranjith, Mari Selvaraj and Ram have stayed away from the 'conventional' tropes and developed their own film language.

This is probably one of the main reasons why South films get wider recognition, irrespective of the medium.

Let's go to the Telugu film industry, which was all about commercial cinema once. But, not anymore. There's a wonderful balance there. If films like Pushpa, Akhanda, and Aravinda Sametha are made, there are films like C/O Kancharapalem, Pelli Choopulu and Awe, which are also being given their rightful due.

Who would have thought that KGF: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 would put Kannada cinema on the global map? But, director Prashanth Neel and actor Yash believed in it. Films like Kirik Party, Rangitharanga and Garuda Gamana Vrishabha Vahana, among others, have highlighted the best of Kannada cinema.

In the South, there's a space for everyone. Be it ideological films or films that highlight left-wing politics, directors can make a film on diverse topics, and with conviction, unapologetically, unabashedly. And, there lies the success.

(Source: India Today)

An honest review of Shakun Batra’s ‘Gehraiyaan’

If ‘it’s complicated’ could have an entire movie to itself, we’d get Shakun Batra’s Gehraiyaan. It’s ‘Kapoor and Sons’ but about 40 layers deeper, and with numerous crisscrossing subplots that take you into the twisted lives of Alisha, Tia, Zain, and Karan. I am not complaining though and—as a viewer watching Deepika Padukone, Ananya Panday, Siddhant Chaturvedi, and Dhairya Karwa bring to life Batra’s layered writing—neither will you! 

All in all, Gehriaiyaan is a beautifully twisted, emotionally draining, and daringly dark take on human relationships. 

While there might be times you’ll want to rewind to catch up with the unfolding narrative, there’s a sense of mystery that will keep you hooked till the very end. 

The anchoring plotline

As shown in the several trailers up until now, Deepika’s ‘Alisha’ and Ananya’s ‘Tia’ are first cousins who grew up together. Several DVD footage-fuelled flashbacks of the two kids enjoying their summer home in Alibaug show us a fond childhood shared by the two. Yet, as the film begins, one can sense that the two central characters, now all grown up, have probably not met in years.

When they do reconnect, Tia is dating Zain (Siddhant Chaturvedi) and they have been together for nearly three years. Karan (Dhairya Karwa) and Alisha, although not as well-off as the other two, are not in a good space in their six-year-long relationship. As the story unfolds, one cannot deny the inevitable chemistry between Alisha and Zain. Herein begins the drama. 

What starts off as an escape from a loveless relationship soon turns into a twisted tale of family ties, sex-fuelled manipulation and even a jumpscare.

In the end, Gehraiyaan deals with several topics—from the fragility of human relationships to understanding the psychology of pathological liars, from mental health disorders to a sense of coming of age. There’s no denying you really need to rewind to catch up at some points.

The direction, cinematography, and screenplay

Batra’s screenplay—co-written by Ayesha Savitre, Sumit Roy, and Yash Sahai—is an ode to ageing Millennials and that quiet anxiety we’re all subconsciously dealing with. When Alisha said, “I feel stuck,” there’s no way in hell you did not feel that. This film is an embodiment of that clusterfuck feeling, with three characters bringing their own trauma to the table. 

A big part of Gehraiyaan’s effect is the subtle direction. Like the light hanging off the head when Alisha realizes she’s screamed at her dad a little too harshly or Tia’s confusion when she’s about to confront Zain—there’s realness in those moments. Kaushal Shah’s observant camera captures the undertones in their situations.

The dialogues are all superbly naturalistic as if you’re in the room with the actors. All points to the team for really thinking the small moments through—the characters react much as their situations demand and, for that, I am especially grateful!

The background score, composed by Kabeer Kapthalia and Savera Mehta, is rich and hauntingly melodious. By the end of it, you’ll not be able to imagine the film without it. They have a special power of making you feel things, I am not kidding! 

The performances

Deepika is a league of her own. Her performance is spectacular, to say the least. She carries the weight of the film and delivers a performance that cannot be easily matched. What do I even say about Ananya? I think our entire nation owes her an apology for dismissing her so quickly because, goddamn, can she act!

Dhairya's role is minimal but he plays the uninterested boyfriend role to its full capacity. Rajat Kapoor and Naseeruddin Shah too have their fair share of screen time and are always a pleasure to watch. 

It’s Siddhant Chaturvedi who is ambitious in his role as Zain. He is meant to play the suave rags-to-riches tycoon who feels no remorse for his manipulative ways, yet there are points in the film I wished someone more charming was playing the part. I missed Fawad Khan and the resilient energy he brought to our screens. 

In the end, does it even matter?

Batra really tries to outdo his last masterpiece. However, there are too many subplots and themes in the movie—perhaps trying to embody how human lives are inherently complicated. However, it would’ve been even better had the film been stretched into a three or four-part series, taking sufficient time to flesh out the details. Like the family structure that forms the core of all the dilemmas, more context for Alisha and Karan’s relationship, etc. 

At the end of it, it’s Deepika who is running the show with her hyper-real acting skills and her sidekick, the exceptional music! 

(Source: iDiva)

'Bollywood, will you ever learn?', Vijay Raaz playing trans woman in 'Gangubai' stirs debate

Why cannot a transgender play the role of a transgender in Bollywood movies? For long, men dressed up as women have portrayed such roles. 

The recently released Chandigarh Kare Aashiqui also faced the wrath for choosing a cis-woman to essay the role of a transwoman.

That is one of the reasons why Mairembam Ronaldo Singh aka Henthoi, a transgender actor from Manipur was lauded for her performance in Paatal Lok. The makers won the hearts of the audiences as well. 

Once again, the debate has kickstarted after the release of Gangubai Kathiawadi. The trailer has Vijay Raaz essaying the role of a transgender woman. This has rubbed people the wrong way. 

Vijay Raaz plays the role of Gangubai's rival Razia Bai. While people are applauding his performance, they are also questioning why a trans woman was not picked for this role as inclusivity still remains to be an issue in Bollywood. 

(Source: India Times)

From catcalling to male gaze, how 'Oo Antava' song's lyrics denounces sexism

Allu Arjun, Rashmika Mandanna starrer Pushpa: The Rise became a superhit with a box office collection of over 300 crore. Samantha Ruth Prabhu won the hearts of many with her dance performance in 'Oo Antava' that got worldwide attention. However, many failed to notice how the lyrics of the "item number" unapologetically denounced sexism.

Choregraphed by Ganesh Acharya, the song features Allu Arjun and Samantha Prabhu in a raunchy and extremely provocative avatar, which many found highly inappropriate as it reinforces the much talked about objectification of the women as opposed to the lyrics, which in a unique way, turn the focus on men suggesting that it is them who continue to sexualize women irrespective of her age, clothes and how she looks.  

People behind the Oo Antava song's lyrics

The song was released in Telugu, Tamil, Malayalam and Hindi with lyricists Chandrabose, Viveka, Siju Thuravoor and Raqueeb Alam writing for the respective languages. Let us take a look at the lyrics and how they call out men for their behaviour.

Decoding the Oo Antava song lyrics

The song begins with the para "Saree saree pehan ke saree, Aaye to usko ghoore, Chhote chhote skirt bhi jo, Pehan ke aaye to ghoore" focusing on how, irrespective of what a woman wears, men tend to stare at her and make her feel uncomfortable.

Addressing colourism

"Gore gore pe mukhde pe, Taiyar koyi marne ko, sawali ko chhede". This line highlights the obsession with white girls and constant bullying and teasing of girls that are dusky. It then goes on to state that colour makes no difference as everyone is a human being.

Women's physical appearance

From men rejecting women on the bases of their height to mocking them for not being beautiful, the lyrics highlight double standars in men and how they eventually tend to cheat and loot, irrespective of who it is. "Lambi lambi taang wali Chhokri ka deewana"... Phulle phulle gaal pe Koyi bole kya dikhti hai Dubli patli ho to phir Gulab ki daali lagti hai"

Toxic masculinity

The lyrics of the song also target toxic masculinity. For the unversed, toxic masculinity is often a type of cultural norms associated with men and their harmful behaviour towards the society or themselves. The lyrics "Jhoothi jhoothi shaan pe koyi, Apna rohb dikhata hai" highlight the pretentious act of being a man and dominating only because of their gender.

The Lyrics vs The Video

Objectification of women in Indian cinema is not something we have not seen before. From 'Tu cheez badi hai mast mast' to 'Munni Badnaam Hui’, Bollywood has seen a demeaning portrayal of women, that, in the recent years, have been called out my feminists and women activists. While the lyrics of the song 'Oo Antava' calls out men for their lewd behaviour, the video, on the other hand, plays along the typical format of an "item number" with scantily dressed women dancers in the background to men's lecherousness looks.

(Source: India Times)

Behind the rise of the Hindi dub of Telugu crime drama ‘Pushpa’, a long journey of hits and misses

 The Hindi version of film, starring Allu Arjun, has been an unexpected success.

What’s behind the success of the Hindi version of the Telugu movie Pushpa: The Rise? Sukumar’s crime drama was a slow starter in Telugu but an unexpected hit in Hindi. It has so far earned an estimated Rs 84.44 crore at the box office.

The Pushpa dub has connected with Hindi audiences in a way that even Kabir Khan’s cricket-themed 83 couldn’t. The December 17 release, the first in a two-part film, is now out on Amazon Prime Video.

The hero of the film, Allu Arjun, who at 39 is already a veteran of Telugu cinema, is being hailed as the latest crossover star. Prompted by this success, his 2020 movie Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo is being dubbed and hastily prepared for a January 26 release in Hindi markets. This despite the fact that an official remake, titled Shehzada and starring Kartik Aaryan, is underway.

There are several theories about Pushpa’s commercial triumph. The most persistent explanation is that the Telugu production has the elements that Hindi cinema has been missing of late – stylishly filmed big-screen entertainment, thrilling action scenes, and an ultramacho hero who, despite jigging with a bar dancer, is faithful to his beloved.

Pushpa’s titular hero is certainly an unreconstructed male riposte to Hindi cinema’s frequently metrosexual and plasticky leading men. My name might mean flower but I am fire, Pushpa growls during his battles with various gangsters and a police officer.

In the success of Pushpa and the Hindi dub of the Kannada crime drama KGF: Chapter 1 in 2018, there appears to be a nostalgia for Hindi films as they were perceived to be: a grand 70-mm package, simplistically plotted and morally uncomplicated, with heroes, heroines, villains and vamps who stick to their moulds rather than breaking out of them.

Is Pushpa’s success a passing fancy? A hunger for exotic fruit at a time when local produce isn’t as readily available? The fallout of at least three years of sustained propaganda against the Hindi film industry by Hindutva forces, which has led to what some observers describe as an “anti-Bollywood wave”? Or a significant shift in audience tastes that will further the cause of the pan-Indian movie?

The perils of film trade punditry were summarised by American humorist Will Rogers in an essay as early as 1928: “It’s the only business in the world that nobody knows anything about. Being in them don’t give any more of an inkling about them than being out of them.”

Whether or not Pushpa’s rise will have lasting effects, what is certain is that the film has benefitted from years of assiduous groundwork. For decades, filmmakers from India’s various movie industries have been mixing and matching ideas and talent in their eternal quest for the box-office hit.

Since the 1930s, movies in Telugu, Tamil and Bengali have been remade in Hindi. At the same time, Hindi hits were retooled in other languages. With a few changes in the setting and a fresh cast and music, a movie could appear as good as new.

The traffic between Mumbai, Chennai and Hyderabad has been the busiest and produced one of the earliest crossover stars. Vyjayanthimala’s Tamil films in the 1940s and 1950s were remade in Telugu and later in Hindi. She spoke her own lines in the Hindi versions, rather than relying on a dubbing artist. Several Tamil and Telugu actresses followed her to the Hindi film world, from Waheeda Rehman and Padmini to Sridevi and Jaya Prada.

The journey is typically easier for actresses. They play a relatively diminished role in the average Hindi film universe. Their energies are focused on looking beautiful and executing song-and-dance sequences, leading to an enduring showbiz legend that Southern actresses have Bharatanatyam in their blood.

The burden of shouldering a film’s narrative journey is nearly always borne by men who must look and sound the part. As a result, heroes from other language cinemas have found it more challenging to surmount the average Hindi filmgoer’s preference for clean-cut men with generic North Indian features and names.

The exceptions include Kamal Haasan and Rajinikanth in the 1980s. Ek Duuje Ke Liye (1981), K Balachander’s moneyspinning remake of his Telugu film Maro Charitra, briefly made Haasan a star in Mumbai.

Despite a few hits in the Hindi film world, though, Haasan remained a “Madrasi” – the pejorative term for just about anybody from the southern states. In Rajinikanth’s Hindi films, he was often a comic element with an undefinable accent and wondrous mannerisms.

The preference for women over men has been challenged by recent films. SS Rajamouli’s two-part blockbuster Baahubali (2015 and 2017), which was led by the Telugu actor Prabhas, the success of the Hindi dubbed version of the Kannada crime drama KFG, starring Yash, and Pushpa: The Rise indicate that an untested hero is no obstacle when a film is seen as compelling entertainment. If anything, the foreignness of the leads is part of the overall experience.

The true test of the Hindi filmgoer’s acceptance of non-normative heroes will be seen in the coming months with such films as Rajamouli’s RRR, led by Telugu stars Jr NTR and Ram Charan, and Puri Jagannadh’s Liger, made in both Telugu and Hindi and starring Vijay Devarakonda.

RRR and Liger have hedged their bets by casting Hindi talent – Alia Bhatt and Ajay Devgn in RRR and Ananya Panday in Liger. Not every film can be a Baahubali, which had only two actors familiar to Hindi audiences (Ramya Krishnan and Rana Daggubati). RRR and Liger also have universal themes – patriotism in the first, sports in the second.

The exercise can be pointless even when producers play it safe. Writer Ashokamitran, who worked in the publicity department of SS Vasan’s legendary Gemini Studios in Chennai, wrote about one such experiment in his memoir Fourteen Years with Boss.

“For the first time a Gemini film sported a real film star whom people in the north would readily recognise with a sigh or a gasp,” Ashokamitran writes with characteristic drollery about the Madhubala-starrer Bahut Din Huwe in 1954. (It didn’t work – the movie flopped.)

Two of the simplest ways to make South meet the Rest of India is dubbing or remaking a Southern hit in Hindi. When they work – Kabir Singh, the 2019 monster hit remake of Arjun Reddy, for example – they have been held up as further proof of Bollywood’s declining ability to come up with winnable material.

Dubbed movies have playing the role of introducing seasoned talent to new audiences. The success of Mani Ratnam’s Roja and Bombay in Hindi in the early 1990s are instances of how dubbing can break through barriers despite unknown faces and the visible mismatch between lip movements and dialogue.

Would Roja had worked if it didn’t have a nationalistic theme, didn’t explore Kashmiri militancy and didn’t have a score by AR Rahman? Similarly, if Bombay took Ratnam out of his comfort zone of Tamil Nadu,the movie’s setting was surely one of the reasons it clicked beyond the state.

Bombay’s exploration of the city’s worst communal riots following the destruction of the Babri mosque in Ayodhya by Hindutva mobs in 1992 – a national-level event – gave the movie a wider appeal. So did the casting of Hindi actress Manisha Koirala and yet another winning score by AR Rahman.

Dubbed films have also had a fruitful afterlife on television and YouTube. In the absence of quantifiable research, we have only anecdotal evidence and fan comments on YouTube videos to remind us that audiences can be more adventurous than filmmakers and trade pundits.

None of these efforts guarantee success for the remake or, that matter, the production simultaneously filmed in more than one language. Spurred on by Roja and Bombay, Mani Ratnam ambitiously filmed Aayuthu Ezuthu (2004) in Hindi as Yuva and Raavanan (2010) as Raavan. Despite casting Hindi actors, the remakes didn’t land with the same smoothness as Ratnam’s previous dubbed productions.

The joys of the culture-specific production, which defies the standardising compulsions of the all-India movie, can be preserved only through subtitling. But subtitling across the country’s many languages is even harder to pull off than dubbing.

The cult status accorded to such dubbed films as the Chiranjeevi-starrer Indra – The Tiger notwithstanding, there is no guarantee that a film made for a specific language culture will survive the journey to Hindi. There are several obstacles – the loss of specific cultural references, the quality of the Hindi dialogue and the dubbing, the lack of awareness about directors and actors who are stars in their own right. But when intent matches content, a blockbuster seems inevitable.

With so many remakes, dubbed films and subtitled films on streaming platforms and YouTube, it sometimes appears that the Hindi film industry is the one running low on ideas and imagination. The Bollywood obituary, which has been written over the years and is revised whenever there is a new controversy, ignores the fact that the traffic is two-way. If Hindi producers keep a close eye on Southern productions, Hindi films too are remade in southern languages.

Filmmakers yearn for a pan-Indian film to improve their earnings and increase their cultural footprint. Until that happens, they can best rely on the dubbed movie, which often provides a deceptively fresh look at dated material.

Apart from its filmmaking pizazz, little is actually new about Pushpa: The Rise and that’s possibly why it has worked. We’ve seen it before and we can’t remember where, but we go along because sometimes, familiarity breeds comfort.

(Source: Scroll)

Magic of Konkona Sensharma: A powerhouse performer who we're glad is an actress, not a 'star'

 "I'm an actor, not a star. Stars are people who live in Hollywood and have heart-shaped swimming pools." -- Al Pacino

Konkona Sensharma is not a star who is popular for her airport looks or who makes headlines for her Instagram videos, she is an actor who is known for gracefully exploring the arthouse independent genre to its best capacity; the one who--with her electric choice of films--has carved herself a niche in the world of showbiz. 

With a plethora of offbeat films in her kitty, she has always proved that her acting skills are par excellence. 

She is once again making fans go gaga over her stellar performance in Geeli Pucchi, one of the short films from the anthology Ajeeb Daastaans. In the film directed by Neeraj Ghaywan, she essays the role of a Dalit factory worker Bharti Mandal whose job and promotion are at stake after a pretty upper-caste woman Priya Sharma (played by Aditi Rao Hydari) joins the company. Her friendship with her also has some ups and downs.

But this isn't the first time she has left us floored. She has effortlessly stepped into the shoes of the characters that she has played in a variety of films as if they were all written for her.

She first shot to fame with Mr. and Mrs. Iyer, a film directed by her mother filmmaker–actress Aparna Sen, for which she National Film Award for Best Actress for her impeccable performance. Her nuanced performance as Brahmin woman Meenakshi is still etched in the hearts of those who watched the film as Sensharma effectively conveyed the emotions without saying much in the film. 

However, she only gained prominence with Page 3 in 2005 with the role of Madhvi Sharma, a Page 3 journalist. The film fetched her the limelight of mainstream cinema and Bollywood.

"I believe that any good idea can change the world. Now, all films are not meant to be thought-provoking but some of them are, surely!"

In Vishal Bhardwaj's Omkara, she essayed the role of Indu, Lagda Tyagi's wife, who seeks revenge from Omi, she was praised by one and all. So much so that she received a national award for best-supporting actress.

She won us over with Wake Up Sid, in which she plays Aisha, a guardian to Ranbir Kapoor’s man-child Sid. Just like Page 3, this too was a commercial hit. Similarly, in Atithi Tum Kab Jaoge, she taught everyone a new way to do comedy with her impressive performance.

It was a treat to watch her as Chutki in Laaga Chunari Mein Daag. In Luck By Chance, she made her presence felt with her impressive acting, even though she wasn't the central character.

She has been doing women-centric films from a time when they weren't even popular. She has carried many films on her shoulders without the need of a "hero". Talvar, Lipstick Under My Burkha, Dolly Kitty Aur Woh Chamakte Sitare and Ramprasad Ki Tehrvi are just some of the films through which she has broken barriers and stereotypes. She took a bold move and captured taboo subjects like sexuality in her films. 

With the plethora of roles that she has played, she has never been typecast. 

"It’s convenient to box men and women with certain roles. We are going to be like this, they are going to be like that. Everything is fine and we are all safe, is it?"

She has proved that she is as great behind the camera as she is in front of it. She donned the director's hat with unmatched ease in A Death In The Gunj, the film that premiered at the prestigious Toronto International Film Festival. 

She is here to bring a change, not only through her talks but through her work as well. 

"When it comes to portraying women on screen, we hardly see any representation of women over 30. So does that mean we don’t want to know about women once they cross 30 and have a husband and children?"

She has often enlightened us with her intelligent and progressive take on life. It is always a learning experience to watch her films or to watch talk about general things. 

"I do believe that life is a series of distractions from death. The only certainty is that you have to die, so do things that make you happy. At the end of your life, you will not remember your best work, but will remember just moments with people."

She is fearless too. When Indian celebrities were being trolled for their identical tweets during the farmers' protest, she fearlessly took to Twitter to say that they are all a victim of "fear".

When it comes to Bollywood or cricket celebs doing what they're doing, I wonder, is it the carrot or is it the stick?

They're rich enough to not be bribed, so it must be fear of some kind. What kind?

I hope some insider reveals the full story one day.

— Amit Varma (@amitvarma) February 4, 2021

Her personality is indeed unlike any star. She is not the kind of actress who sees how she can change the script so that it fits her personality or image. She is the kind of actress who gets excited to play different roles that demand her to experience a new character in reel life. Every time she appears on the big screen, she leaves us bowled over. 

We are glad that she doesn't have the aura, charisma and personality of a star, but the dignity, candor and maturity of a power-packed performer. After all, she has given zero bad performances till date.

(Source: India Times)

Ijaazat is a strangely poetic take on divorce that was rare in 1980s Hindi films

 Naseeruddin Shah and Rekha's portrayal of a divorced couple in this Gulzar film is more loving and honest than many marriages that do last.

One of the most striking scenes of Gulzar’s Ijaazat (1987) is when Mahendra (Naseeruddin Shah) and Sudha (Rekha), a newly married couple, talk about his former lover, Maya (Anuradha Patel). Sudha has constantly come across Maya’s things in the house — a coat, a shawl, a pair of sunglasses and other things that Mahendra has been either too lazy or unwilling to return. It has chafed and gnawed at her, although she has done her best to be graceful about the fact that her house is full of remnants of the woman her husband is still in love with.

Illustration: Ramandeep Kaur | ThePrint

When Mahendra finally does return Maya’s things, she writes him a letter about all the other things he ought to return. The memories of 116 moonlit nights, for example. The rain-soaked days they spent together, the freckle on his shoulder, the smell of wet mehendi, the false promises, and a thousand other memories of their love.

An emotional Mahendra reads this letter out to his wife, who now regrets sending Maya’s things back. As it is, she is in this house day and night, what difference does it make if her things are here as well, she says.

And the letter becomes a song, Mera Kuch Saamaan — one of the most beautiful breakup songs ever to be made. Gulzar, who also wrote the film’s screenplay (adapted from a story by Subodh Ghosh) and dialogues, wrote some of the most achingly beautiful lyrics of his career for this free-verse song, put to tune by R.D. Burman and sung to perfection by Asha Bhosle, who, along with Gulzar, won a National Award for it.

The tenderness with which she sings of lost love, of bittersweet memories tinged with regret and of the sensual passion that consumes young lovers makes this the standout track from the movie, but every song, actually, is a gem. And each one is sung solely by Asha Bhosle.

In the week that the singer celebrated her 87th birthday, here is a look back at Ijaazat.

The waiting room of life

The movie actually opens five years ahead in time, at a railway station, where Mahendra and Sudha, both travelling to different destinations and caught in a heavy downpour, spend the night in the first-class waiting room, where they meet for the first time since they separated.

What happened to this marriage, to Maya, is told through flashbacks, but truthfully, it is what is happening in the present, in the dinky waiting room, that is far more interesting. After the initial awkwardness, the two settle into each other’s company, which feels so familiar and comfortable that Mahendra even says it feels like home.

They squabble over his keenness for a peg of whisky, they crack in jokes about each other’s quirks and habits, she picks up after him when he leaves his wet clothes and towel on the table and even, instinctively, picks up a towel and dries his hair after he returns from trying to find them some food.

The station master, who comes in once or twice before retiring for the night, philosophically tells Mahendra that life is a waiting room. He says it jokingly, but somewhere, there is truth to it. Five years earlier, Sudha left Mahendra abruptly and informed him via a letter, so neither of them really got closure, even though they moved on. It was as if they were in a waiting room all this time, waiting to meet, to revisit old wounds, to finally dress them with the tenderness they deserved five years earlier but never received.

All marriages are different, and so are all divorces

Divorce are not seen through the lenses of good and bad. It is treated with warmth, compassion and a certain understanding that this is a relationship no one else truly knows and has access to except the two people who were in it. And, in Ijaazat, it is shown as not any one person’s fault.

Five years earlier, for example, soon after receiving Maya’s letter, Mahendra decides to take Sudha on their delayed honeymoon. Sudha asks him if he has made this sudden plan because he wants to run away. From whom, he asks. You know the answer, she says. Maya’s presence in their marriage, made all the more apparent by her phone calls, hangs like an oppressively heavy perfume.

Mahendra explains that while he had been in love with Maya, he is trying to forget her, but he won’t be able to do that without Sudha’s help. Because, he says, Sudha thinks about Maya far more than he does.

The entire scene is a telling one for many reasons. It shows, in a few words, Mahendra’s weak selfishness, given that has never bothered to return Maya’s things and make a clean slate for his new wife, and given that he expects his wife to help him get over his lover. It shows Sudha’s unwillingness to let go of the subject, even when they’re going on their honeymoon, her almost pathological desire to talk about Maya. It shows Maya’s childlike lack of respect for the fact that her former lover is now married to someone else and her inability to let him go.

And it shows a marriage that may not be built on love in the conventional sense and didn’t last, but has friendship, brutal honesty and a quiet understanding, even through misunderstandings, that even many lasting marriages don’t have.

(Source: The Print)

How much can you trust Bollywood’s favourite dietician Rujuta Diwekar?

 Celebrity dietician Rujuta Diwekar stirred up a Twitter row last month when she said mangoes are safe for diabetics. It was yet another of her many contentious claims.

If you’ve Googled “how to lose weight” in India, a name you would not have missed in the results is Rujuta Diwekar.

The celebrity nutritionist with a glittering clientele such as Kareena Kapoor and Anupam Kher, is the author of the popular book Don’t Lose Your Mind, Lose Your Weight. Diwekar also has a formidable online presence —her Twitter followers and YouTube video views are both in excess of half a million.

Celebrity nutritionist Rujuta Diwekar (centre) has a glittering clientele | Commons

The 44-year-old’s emphasis on cooking locally available produce, exalting “Indian food the way your grandmother cooked them”, advocating counting pranic value (which she classifies as freshness of food) instead of calories, while also citing new American research on heart disease and using WHO statistics to back sugar consumption, have earned her admirers across the spectrum.

But her ideas have also drawn as much flak as they have followers as Diwekar has earned the ire of doctors, nutritionists and researchers.

On 30 April, Diwekar, who came into prominence in 2008 for helping Kapoor achieve a “size zero” body for the movie Tashan, created a stir when she recommended mangoes for diabetics, tweeting that the fruit is seasonal, local and low on glycemic index (GI).

It angered medical professionals, who termed the advice dangerous.

But such is her following, Diwekar was swiftly defended, with many of her followers pointing to the fruit’s relatively low glycemic index.

Responding by email to queries from ThePrint, Diwekar said that her recommendation was based on one from a doctors’ body. 

“Mango and its effect on blood sugars — it’s from the Association of Physicians of India, Karnataka chapter. One of the objectives of this study was to get diabetics to consume fresh, local fruits without fear,” she said.

She also stressed that her statements are based on available research. “Every idea that I talk about or tweet has been in the public domain for over a decade. A cursory Google search will help you find articles from authoritative journals that back that information,” she said.

Lack of context

Technically, Diwekar’s statements are often correct. Mangoes do have a lower GI but her throwaway advice, say medical experts, lacks the larger context of portion control and total sugar consumption. Mangoes aren’t just sugar; they’re full of nutrients. But mangoes aren’t just nutrients either; they’re also full of sugar.

“It is highly incorrect to make recommendations for any food item solely on the basis of GI,” explained Maaz Shaikh, the co-founder of Wellthy therapeutics, India’s first digital therapeutic firm managing thousands of diabetics every day. “For a diabetic, what matters most is the glycemic load — total amount of sugar that enters their system.”

So, the problem is not a diabetic patient eating mangoes, it is not knowing when to stop.

But Diwekar not only avoids mentioning portion control in public, she seemingly advocates against it, saying in this interview, “We are born with the ability to self-terminate eating; we do not need a dietician or a doctor to tell us where to stop.”

To her credit, that’s not entirely wrong.

“All animals do have checks and balances that keep them from overeating,” explained Ishi Khosla, clinical nutritionist at the Centre For Dietary Counselling, Delhi, and founder of The Celiac Society Of India. “The perfect example of this is how you can never overfeed a baby or a pet. But that is provided they aren’t exposed to sugar or junk.”

But sugar changes everything.

All about sugar

Diwekar’s assertions on sugar are contentious, to say the least. Her new book, ‘Indian Super Foods’, lists sugar as one. In a fiction vs fact table, she terms the medical advice to “avoid sugar if diabetic” as fiction and claims that meta studies have shown no “conclusive link between consumption of sugar and diabetes”. 

Diwekar also claims that refined sugar and jaggery are healthier than beet sugar.

“Most forms of sugar are converted to glucose in the body,” explained Shaikh. “Simple sugars like our everyday white sugar spike our blood sugar levels very fast while more complex sugars lead to slower rise. Sugarcane, jaggery, beet sugar are all simple sugars that are absorbed rapidly and spike blood sugar levels.”

Khao aur khane do, Mangoes 🤩

Separating the familiar lies from the truth.
The lies -
1. It’s very high in sugar and calories
2. It’s very high on glycemic index
3. People with Diabetes and obesity should avoid eating it.

— Rujuta Diwekar (@RujutaDiwekar) April 30, 2018

In her book, Diwekar claims low-calorie sweeteners can cause cancer — a claim heavily debunked. Her advice, particularly on Twitter, where her words reach more than 5 lakh people, doesn’t explain the complexities of nutrition nor does she cite authoritative sources.

Links she provided to ThePrint backing her statement on sweeteners (like here, here, here) all demonstrate older studies on rats. Today, even the most conservative of studies show that the mechanism of increased cancer incidence can be seen only in rats. It is non-reproducible in human physiology and artificial sweeteners were completely delisted from carcinogen lists in 2000.

She often proclaims that microwaves are harmful as micronutrient bonds “break, get oxidised, become toxic”. This myth has been refuted again and again; nutrients are best preserved when cooked fastest and microwaves are more suitable for that than low flames.

Her links to back these statements  (like this 1992 study, this study on any form of heating on garlic, this 1995 paper on milk, and this self-critical piece on microwave plastic) are at least 10 years old.

Diwekar uses the age of the studies to validate her stance without recognising that all of it is very much outdated, replaced today with better products and safe results.

“People who follow me on Twitter are intelligent and don’t take anything at face value. They arrive at their own decisions on food,” she said. “All I hope for is that one arrives at them based on facts and not fears.”

Unfortunately, Diwekar’s factually incorrect statements appear alongside sensible advice — like responsibly reducing plastic — increasing the credibility of her words.

Eat-local, the business model

Much of Diwekar’s appeal lies in her emphasis on consuming locally available produce and relying on our grandmothers’ cooking techniques. Her USP is simple: Stick to Indian foods the way our grandparents ate them.

Diwekar backs her claims on what our “ancestors” ate without details or context of the evolution of food. A whole host of vegetables that are staple today, including potatoes, tomatoes, and capsicum, came to India just 400 years ago. Apple came to India a little under a century ago.

“Our dadis, nanis seem to be eating whatever they like. They have great skin and look good even today. What are they doing that we aren’t?” she asks. The answer is obvious: No processed foods, sugar and junk that surround us at every corner. It’s not what they eat, it’s what they don’t.

Her standard recommendation to everyone, even those with diabetes and blood pressure, is eating rice, dal, and ghee every day.

“A lot of her advice on ‘traditional’ foods doesn’t apply to people who don’t belong to educated, upper-caste elite,” said Dr Veena Shatrugna, former deputy director and head of the Clinical Division at the National Institute of Nutrition.

Even today, the majority of the country simply cannot afford to eat rice, ghee and dal every day. “A large part of the working class eats rice with chutney or roti with onions. On the ground, it is important to not straddle class and social layers with sweeping statements,” added Shatrugna.

Diwekar also advocates for simple changes that are mostly just common sense and non-specific: Exercise every day, eat in short intervals for blood sugar stability, avoid packaged foods, eat healthy fats, cook foods we understand.

“Brazil is in this area,” she told ThePrint. “Their official dietary guidelines reflect the current space that nutrition science is in — eating is a social act, we should eat traditional and home cooked food (to account for diversity in cuisines and climate), and pay attention to food while eating to guide us on quantities instead of fussing about portion size.”

Nutritionist or dietician?

Diwekar’s words have impact and reach for a reason: There is a dearth of voices on nutrition, particularly from medical professionals.

“I would heavily fault doctors,” said Shatrugna. “Most have abdicated nutrition entirely. They advise diabetics to stop eating sugars and carbs like rice and meat, but don’t tell them what to eat instead. So, patients turn to nutritionists who are often without medical training, and whose important science isn’t seen as academic or useful by doctors.”

It is this void that Diwekar has tapped into efficiently. A lot of people whose troubles need to be controlled by diets don’t really know what to eat, so they turn to whoever has advice.

“Nutritional advice can apply to someone who’s hale and hearty and wants to lose weight at best,” said Dr. Kamini Rao, IVF specialist and founder of Milann Centre for Reproductive Medicine.

“Anyone with even the slightest of diseases requires personalised advice. Everyone with the same disease can’t be bunched into one group. Nutrition cannot replace medical advice, and it isn’t safe to recommend foods online to those with diseases,” she said.

In India, dietetics and nutrition aren’t well regulated. While the field of nutritionists is pretty much unregulated in most parts of the world, being a dietician requires a licence in several countries. 

But not in India, where the two words are used interchangeably.

“Nutrition is something everyone is waking up to today. It’s an evolving science that is often accompanied by a lot of sensationalism,” explained Khosla, a clinical nutritionist.

“Unfortunately, there is no prerequisite for a nutritionist in India today. People with a personal weight loss story or even marketers of nutritional supplements can call themselves a nutritionist.”

That isn’t good news for those seeking advice online, which is pretty much most of us.

“In the battle of your research vs mine, common sense, experience and practicality wins,” Diwekar told ThePrint. 

“Thanks to the internet, we are demanding more transparency about food research, asking questions of who funds a study, and if this affects the conclusion it arrives at.”

Like Diwekar herself seemingly agrees, words of celebrity nutritionists — especially in non-professional consultations — perhaps need to be taken with a generous helping of salt.

(Source: The Print)