Sd Movies Point Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

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Kizzy Burnworth

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Aug 3, 2024, 10:41:55 AM8/3/24
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For all the banalities, there was much magic. And humour. I was in splits through much of the film. And the last scene, with the three young men smiling away with the sheer joy of actually still being alive, it left me glad to have witnessed that moment, and all that led up to it.
I have a very very soft corner for the bag scenes- loved them totally. My handbag has almost been named ?

so you hated it! hmm! That was a surprise! Well I liked it. It was fun. It did not bother me that the story lines were vaguely familiar. And I was not too affected if the lines were in English or it felt English. Just like I am sick of striped drawer peeping from a up-lifted dhothi, I am sick of seeing movies that I cannot relate to. This was urban and probably will be a box office disaster, coz India lives in her villages :-). Loved her previous movie and am going with a feel good thumbs up for this one.

Oh and by the way, your new form of bullet-point reporting is extremely disappointing. Apart from your insightful approach to art and unique sensibility one always came to your reviews for the delectably well-worded prose you managed to weave your thoughts in. Yet never seeming poetic (well sometimes yes :)) or flashy or overdone. The bullet-point reports seem like a transcript of the notes you maybe taking down while watching the film. Not fair to us, is it? ?

And I agree with Fatema, that you need to go back to your lengthy reviews. There are barely any good critics for Indian movies, and to have one of them revert to 2 minute Maggi instead of a 3 course meal is not fair on us readers!

It is interesting to see how movies have changed in the last few years. I wonder how the public in, say, Ranchi is going to reach to this firstworldproblem carpe the diem nonsense. One then wonders why Hindi remains a language of choice for movies like these. If anything, making these type of movies in english opens them up to the non-Hindi metro demographic.

I liked the soundtrack on its own. Within the film, it did not have half the impact. Indie songs need Indie treatment, which was lacking in the picturization of Khwabon ke Parindey. I think the movie captures the languor of the country and its vacation perfectly, however, the zing and highs of Spanish travel did not translate to both Ik Junoon and Senorita. Senorita is such a lovely track that it was always going to be a problem filming it, but they could have moved the camera away from the trio and focused on the locals to get the feel of the joie-de-vivre.

i have not read the above comments, maybe this was discussed.
I simply loved the film as i did with Luck By Chance and i think your points against the film are no points at all, it seems that the characters should react in a way in which you feel is right for them;if not they are considered banal or unrealistic.
Not all cinematic movements need to be poignant and perfect, sir you are movie reviewer and not a quality control officer.

I had been expecting a good, if not brilliant film, after Luck By Chance. But it seems to me ZNMD falls short of expectations. I wonder if I should give it a go for those instances of magic that you talked of.

But then, there is a scene in the sequence where kabir is taking pictures of the bridal party. Kalki is in the shot laughing with some other guy. Kabir looks away and busies himself with his camera. Is that regret? Are they somehow now good friends and he realizes he made a mistake? Is there going to be a Zindagi Kash milegi dobara? (I apologize for my rough translation)

The basic premise, that Arjun would agree for an extended road trip with Imran as a part of the trio, was itself implausible. As a part of a bigger group, might have been possible, (though maybe still not probable) since interaction could then have been kept to a minimum.

If films are mirrors of society, perhaps the opposite is also true: people can be influenced by the movies. Think of the following dialogues in films, and the values and frameworks they might have instilled in us:

The point is, movies affect us, either by rousing our emotions or through gentle action. They influence our attitudes. The values that we then acquire as a result of this influence persuade us into behaving in certain ways.

The Bechdel Test became so important because it revealed to us several possibilities, one of them being: does our portrayal of women on screen reflect our attitudes and behaviour towards them in real life? The answer seemed to be: yes. This was also related to their numbers on screen. While women are roughly 50 percent of the population, they were not at all to be found on celluloid in proportion to their number and influence.

Rather, it is a test that brings attention to the lack of representation of women in films. What this test, or the idea of fridging, does is help us understand that having cardboard cutouts instead of well-developed characters for women renders them invisible as surely as not having women characters at all.

Perhaps this is an emasculating position to be in, but for Shammi it is also an opportunity to be the man of the house, and as we will see, he takes this job seriously. When his sister-in-law, Baby, falls in love with one of the brothers, the curly-haired Bobby, and resolves to marry him, Shammi opposes the match. This stance creates the conflict around which the latter half of the film revolves.

For all its progressiveness, Kumbalangi Nights never fails to remind us that we live in a patriarchal world. Bobby and Baby fall in love but when he approaches Shammi to ask her for her hand in marriage, he is insulted by him.

In the last few scenes of the film, we learn that Shammi is not just a garden variety creep, but also someone who suffers from psychotic breaks. As he descends into a violent episode and attacks his wife, his mother-in-law, and his sister-in-law, it is up to the brothers to save the situation. At first, Shammi proves to be too strong and too violent, but the three of them manage to overpower him.

Watching the film, especially the moving scene when Saji reaches out to his youngest brother, I was struck by the thought: how many films have we seen where one male character confides in another male character about a vulnerability? My bet was: zero. My next thought was, the world must have a Kumbalangi Test.

The second letdown comes near the end of the film when the villain, Shammi, descends into madness. The brothers discover that Shammi has tied up the two women in the family. And when they try to contain him, Shammi breaks into a homicidal frenzy. But during the ensuing fight, Shammi does something puzzling: he abruptly stops fighting, and walks to the corner of a room and turns his back to the brothers (whom, as I should remind you, he has been trying to murder). He stands there in an eerie quiet.

The festival director of the New York Indian Film Festival, Aseem Chhabra has lived and worked in both the United States and India. He says it's a good idea to examine exactly how men are represented in films. A Kumbalangi Test, he says, would be useful.

The aggressive, entitled, and hyper-violent male is a staple character in several Indian films. As a rule, men are not depicted as caring, empathetic and vulnerable. If the Kumbalangi Test helps us interrogate masculinity just by talking about how men are portrayed in films, it will have done its job. Just like the Bechdel Test.

I chose the film to test because it was one of the highest-grossing films of its year and a mass hit in both theatres and on streaming platforms. Moreover, the sequel Pushpa: The Rule is forthcoming, and will likely once again be the talk of the town.

In the film, Pushpa rises through the ranks, going from coolie to a smuggler of red sandalwood. Through a combination of daring and dum, he becomes the partner of a set of brothers who run a smuggling business.

Next, he takes on the big syndicate boss. This is the man to whom the brothers and all the other smugglers sell the wood. When he topples the syndicate boss, Pushpa is crowned the undisputed leader of all.

Along the way, Pushpa has several encounters with the local police, culminating in an epic battle of egos with the police officer Bhanwar Singh Shekhawat, in a typical role played by Fahadh Faasil (the same actor to play the role of the villain Shammi in Kumbalangi Nights).

Describing Pushpa as a super-hit is, if anything, an understatement. Like other Telugu films that were dubbed into multiple languages such as Baahubali or RRR, Pushpa has also seeped into our collective unconscious and its dialogues have become commonplace. While walking on a pavement in New Delhi last summer, I saw three Hindi-speaking kids heading out from school, taking turns to try out the following dialogue from the film:

Here are some guesses why Pushpa struck a chord with audiences: pride in southern India that a Telugu film has become a pan-Indian hit; the stardom of Allu Arjun who plays the role of Pushpa with a swagger, with one shoulder raised; the song Srivalli and the viral dance trend on Instagram Reels and other platforms.

Another test could call for a better distribution of high value roles to speakers of multiple dialects per language. (I can recall Kannada, Hindi and Tamil films in which the speakers of rural dialects are invariably absurd characters.)

Such tests, along with the Bechdel and Kumbalangi Tests could point the way towards better diversity and representation in our films, and outside of celluloid, a more equal voice for all types of beings.

Thanks for a well elucidated analysis that common movie viewers (not just the elite critics) can appreciate. I was beginning to be a little disappointed with the original formulation of your Kumbalangi Test but you redeemed it with the final enhancement.

Two other cultural memes that cinema (especially Hollywood) must be measured and held accountable for propagating and normalizing are: (1) throwing objects and smashing them against the floor or a wall or glass to show anger or frustration sometimes for trivial matters and often by actors whose role otherwise has no personality attributes matching this action, and (2) throwing food items into the bin after taking a bite, or, elaborately pouring two glasses of a drink after one person asks if the other wants a drink, and then immediately, leaving both drinks and going out.

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