The bicycle thieves

Films are essentially about what it creates in you when you watch. But still context matters, more, older the film is. For the films which don't belong to our times, the one about which we read so many times, which we want to see because everyone you awe, awed about it. If we don't know the context, we may miss the beat. We may fail to understand why it was so pulsating then(though not now). The bicycle thieves also needs one such context. If we don't remember (to be exact force ourselves to remember), once cycle itself a luxury, we can ask what the heck, its a cycle.

The movie is more like a short story. It's during great depression times in Italy. The hero gets a job, when everyone struggles to get it. His job is to post flyers. He needs cycle for it. He talks to his wife about his rotten luck of having job and not to go. His wife takes the bed spreads which came as a present for her marriage,(which will explain why she is soar when she takes it to pawn shop) to pawn shop. With the pledged money he retrieves the cycle he pledged long time back. The whole country is running through pawn shops. It is one of the beautifully shot scene in the film. He goes to next counter in the same shop to redeem his cycle. At that time a person carries the bed spreads to store it. He enters a room which is filled with nothing but pledged bedspreads, as if the whole countries bed spreads just lie there.

While in work bunch of guys steal his cycle. The remaining movie is his search for it. During the process he even goes and meet an evangelist , whom he ridicules when his wife go to pay her for prediction that her husband will get job. He becomes a believer, he walk through all roads with his son for cycle. At last when he realizes he can't get the cycle, he decides to steal one. He steals and get caught. People beat him , and all this happens before his son. He walks back with his son. No longer its just a cycle that he lost.

The film still has relevance: you can replace a cycle with something. What makes a person to commit his first crime? The little push that starts the free fall of human character. Human character- that’s the word we use to define a man .Man who is actually what he is made of ,all those virtues he wrapped himself which might be of no value, they can't protect him if the things turns out to be too vicious to not break up. As the movie closes he walks back towards home, wiping his face with kerchief and his son holds his hand and his face is filled with tear, it can break anytime.

Its a neorealist film, the earliest of films that used real people and not actors in movie. But not those 'first of time' that makes this movie stand against winds of time. Its relevance, the concept it speaks about and the way it speaks. The way it follows a man's search for his cycle, his only source of hope to a normal life in a dying country. How far he goes to get it back, how much he puts in stake to get it, how much he will take before he gets broke. A movie more than just worth to watch for.....

Note: I thought of the interesting movies I watched last 2 weeks in a single post but will post others later

The Hours----time ticks

Books (even movies and music) are like wine, they need to get old with time before declaring them masterpiece. It needs more than one sip to peel out the various aromas they will give. Their taste more often don’t lie with buds in tongue but on the way it travels in and the sense it gives. But we can say whether it can become a good wine ,the moment it was pour in to the cask for storage. On my first read of ‘the hours’, exactly that’s what I felt: It’s a good read.

The novel traces 3 stories or could I say 3 independent incidents. Each one is rooted to its past and impacted profoundly by what they are and how they were. Virginia wolf is about to write her greatest story, “Mrs. Dalloway”. As that particular day unfolds she decides about what each character will do. What actually dictates their character? What she is, what she want to be, how she conflicts and collide with people conjures up as a story. It’s a magic of capturing the moment where a flower blossoms and the sweet scent fills the room. It’s a momentary feel, technically you can say the instant where it happened report it micro second by microsecond, but still you might not have told what actually happened. But Michael Cunningham transpires it beautifully. May be it’s because he took the literary freedom and made a story out of incidents that transpired over a period of time. May be, Virginia wolf wrote Mrs. Dalloway and she had committed suicide later in her life is the only fact that he stated. May be all things he stated are actually happened in his mind. What the heck …its so beautifully told, with all those powerful words, expressions and metaphors above all its relevance to life, the real life, not the life of blood and skin but that of the grey and white matter.

Mrs. Lara Brown has a picture perfect family, what most will long for. She has a war hero husband who is sincere in his work and in his care for family. On his birthday, he wakes up before his wife, buys flower and makes breakfast for his son. He senses his wife is dull but he attributes it to her pregnancy. He is, the common man, the successful common man. But the problem is Laura is not looking for him. What she wants is not this. But can she say it? She fills her life in reading books. Her everyday is struggle between the life she wish to have and the life she have which is filled with the people who love her and care for her. On the particular day she is reading the novel “Mrs. Dalloway”. You could blame the novel she was reading or the passionate kiss she gave to Kity, which made her understand her lesbian interest or who knows what inside her brain, she decides to commit suicide. But her love for life stops her from doing it and she returns to her family. Eventually she leaves her family and runs to Canada and spends her life as a librarian.

Clarissa is an editor living with her lesbian partner in New York. She is busy on the day with the party she is planning for her friend, Richard. Richard, an AIDS patient who is counting his days to death, has been awarded a literary honor, for the only novel he wrote, which spends reams and reams of paper about nothing. The only thing, who ever read it understood is (from the lady who sells the flowers to Richard‘s gay partner), he has spoken in length about Clarissa. He has a chapter running for pages which simply states how much time Clarissa had spent in a nail polish shop , ending up not buying any nail polish .‘The hours’ presents itself a book on existentialism, on marginal people, what not. But at the end, all I could feel is, it is the best love story I have ever read. The one that Clarissa has on Richard and the one Richard has on Clarissa. Of all the things that happened to her she still remembers the day, the kiss she shared with Richard. That was the happiness. She thought it was the starting. But thirty years later she knew it was the moment. Richard (only Richard) call her Mrs. Dalloway for reasons no one know. May be on a crazy moment when both knew each love one another more than anything else, on the moment of pinnacle of one’s happiness he started to call her Mrs. Dalloway and he calling her so continues. Clarissa, still wonders, how it could have been if they chose to be together. They are not together; it’s more because of their love for them, which is actually their love for life. Some hours before the party, Richard commits suicide. How much it affects Clarissa? It looks she knew it all way. Her love for day is slightly more than her love for Richard. After all that’s what keeps us moving, isn‘t it? In spite of all the heartbreaks, all those hours which just exist to remind us the good old time once we had. We all rooted in our past and we still look forward for day for reasons no one can say how. The concluding line of the novel best surmises it:
“We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds & expectations, to burst open & give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so.”

Life is all about living

For the sake of convenience let’s assume I met this lady, who is in her fifties, somewhere in my life and we were talking about something which ended up about war.

I saw some news, it seems some blast in your country. Is it war? She asked.

Well it’s not war, as countries fight, but some fundamentalist and terrorist organization, I told her.

“War is bad, too bad”, she continued. They will give a warning and will drop the bombs. I was a kid. 10 years old. I was in street for shopping. One such sound came. People were running. I don’t know what to do. I saw a shop owner closing his shop. I went in. I was a small kid. Her hands were showing a small height, and her eyes were lost somewhere. So he allowed inside and closed the door. There was a heavy sound of shells dropping and guns shooting (actually she made the sound). Then after 10 minutes no sound. The shop owner opened the door slightly and saw outside. He asked me to wait for some time then after an hour he opened the door and asked me where I Live. I told it’s just few blocks away. I came out. Its dead bodies on street. I saw my parents searching for me in them. When I used to go to school, I will see these dead soldiers in age of 13 or 17 outside the church . It will disturb me. It still disturbs me. I take medicine. I talk with people, consult doctor otherwise I may get depressed. If I saw any such news in TV, my husband will switch off the TV. Suddenly in night I may wake up, because I may hear the shooting sound and the light that chased me when I tried to escape. If my son plays music loud, I ask him to reduce. I don’t know why there is war but war is bad.

I don’t know what to say. I simply saw her. She was regaining her control. She said life is going. When I landed in this country, it was cold, I was having no winter dress, I am standing in bus stop and I don’t know the language. Then I said to myself If I have to live here I shall first learn the language then some education to work. Now I am here.

Something got into my stomach, but at the same time I felt how lucky I was. I was not born in a place torn by war or by poverty or by natural disaster. It doesn’t mean nothing could happen in future. It simply means so far so good. I sit here and cry about my rat race failures: the guy next to me bought a house or got promoted or got ....,what not, while there are millions and millions of people who aren’t sure of the next day (and even if it happens it means nothing to them). I am not talking about getting complacency or renunciation of worldly desire or the emotional black mail ( you are in a better position than them). The thing that I am trying to drive to myself is: Life is not fair. Lot of things happens; you attribute it to chaos, probability or the God. But move on. That lady tried four times to escape and got and finally landed in a country with no money, no language. Now she is self standing women with a caring husband and nice kid. Yes, she is still tormented by her memories, but she never surrendered to it. She had her kept her spirits high. The spirit, the life, keeping it alive is the activity one is supposed to do. It’s what living is all about. Everyone has a way of doing it. Its not the end result, he gets in it that keeps his spirit, it is the process of doing it. The end result is a tiny moment. The process, the means, that’s where we spend most of our time. If you are not happy about it, it doesn’t matter what you get at end. Lot of things can decide how it turns it out but nothing stops u from doing it except you.

மீண்டும்

சொன்னதையே சொல்லி, பேசியதியே பேசி,
நேரத்தை நீட்டி, காலத்தை கரைத்து,
கடல் தாண்ட முடியாது -என தெரிந்தாலும்,
கரை கலக்கும் முயற்சியிலே வாழ்க்கையை கானும் அலையாய் -
கண் மூடி,
உலகம் உறங்குவதாய் நினைத்துகொள்வது கூட சுகம் தான்.
உடைந்த கண்ணாடியில்,
பெருகும் பிம்பமாய் என்னுள் நீ.

p.s:
நீண்ட காலமாய், தமிழில் எதுவும் எழுதவில்லை. எதவாது எழுதியே தீரவேண்டும் என் முடிவு செய்த பொழுது, ஒரு காதல் கவிதை எழுத முடிவு செய்த காரணம், சுலபமாக செய்யக்கூடியது அதுவாக மட்டுமே பட்டது.

He is not the one

Most often, when we run into old friends accidentally, once initial exuberance is over, we find out he is not the person with whom we laughed at the world. There is a lot changed in him. One such incident is the opening scene of the film Almodóvar’s Bad Education.

Filmmaker Enrique, is in a ‘creative crisis’, running into newspaper for inspiration’s, to make a story. There is a knock on the door. His assistant opens it. A person introduces himself as Ignacio, an aspiring actor who wants to meet Enrique. The assistant tries to avoid him by saying there is not any project now. He stresses that Enrique is his school friend. Assistant tells Enrique, the guy name is Ignacio. Enrique rushes to receive him. Ignacio explains his reason for visit. He is now a stage actor, looking for an entry into film industry. Enrique asks him was he not writing any more. Ignacio gives him the last story, he wrote, which stems based on what happened to them in their school days, and a fictional follow up of what happens when they meet after so many years. He asks Enrique to read it, saying he may find some inspiration. I will do, Enrique says and stands up to indicate meeting is over. Ignacio wants to hang around, so he asks can I help you with something. Enrique says it’s not needed and takes him to the door. The initial jubilation is not there, there is a kind of professionalism in his tone as he walks his old school friend to the door. His assistant asks whether he wants to use him, it looked to him he enjoyed talking to him. Enrique says, it’s highly erotic to see an aspiring actor looking for chance and that’s why he talked to him so long. He concludes by saying he was his first lover.

He is not seeing the same Ignacio, he saw, fallen in love with, and stood for, in his school days. After some time, while he is ready to do that film, he wants Ignacio to do the role of grown up Enrique. But Ignacio wants to do the role of grown up Ignacio, which is a transsexual character which will give him the break he looks for. Enrique tells him, he is no longer that Ignacio.

As story unfolds, we get into the complex web of incidents and characters: A story, within the story which in turn flash backs to past true incidents, involving Boy-boy relationship, pederasty priest, what not. Surprise element lurks in every corner. One such is Enrique discovers that Ignacio is dead and the impostor is Ignacio’s brother. But even long before, on the very first meeting itself, Enrique felt so, now its just he knew it.

Rocking Moment

I watched 'rock on' without subtitles. My Hindi knowledge is limited to contextual meaning. With that, speaking about Rock on is not such a great idea. I liked the movie. May be if I had known the language, I might have appreciated it more. There are several moments of brilliance. But each one is followed by too much of ‘typical Hindi film’ as if for every good thing he did the director want to balance with run of the mill stuff. The movie could have been in a different echelon if it has not had those ‘compensatory’ (like the post movie sequences showing they lived so happily or the brain tumor track).

This is more about a particular scene .The back-story: Joe, Aditya, rob and KD are friends and rock is the thread that connects them. They have a band, named ‘magik’. They participate in a rock competition and win the deal to do an album. Aditya and Joe are the thick friends in the band. Debbie is Joe’s girl friend and fashion design is her passion. During the album shoot out things turn bad and friends break up. Times pass, KD is into his fathers business, Rob is into film music, and Aditya is a successful investment banker. Joe is a man unable to compromise with reality and lives a life of a ‘failure’ creative guy. Debbie, his wife, is running his ‘god damned family business’.

Sakshi, Aditya’s wife, comes to know about his past and sensing, in spite of his success, he is not having ‘life’, forces him to join with his friends. Now they are back as band having ‘good old time’ in Aditya’s luxurious house. While talking to Joe about the new offer she could get for him, Debbie finds about the revival of magik. She asks him to come out, pointing out the kid and their future. Now Debbie goes to meet Aditya to speak on this.

Debbie waits in Aditya’s house. The house is clear indication of richness. Debbie is sitting in a chair on the verge of seat as if intimidated by it’s grandeur. Sakshi comes to welcome her. They are meeting for first time. Debbie says congratulations. Sakshi see’s her stomach and says thanks. Debbie says 'your face is bright'. This shot is an indication, to show their family is on sweet ride. Because on the very first scene where Aditya and Sakshi where speaking about sakshi's plan for aditya birthday, she is sitting in the cot, he is in shower.Aditya says lets go out to eat alone as he has work to do.Then he comes out and start to sleep exhausted by his work. Sakshi cuddles him from back and go to sleep.

Aditya jubilantly welcomes Debbie. Debbie, the women who dreamt of becoming a fashion designer but now maintaining a fish business, with neither time to crave for past nor to dream for future as her hands are full of present, is sitting in a house which has a fountain in hall, in front of her yester year friend who is now financially as successful as she might want to be. With a remarkably well played emotions she tells him, he was a ‘creative rebel’ and now a successful business man with a nice wife and beautiful house.

This shot spawns out a tangential story to the main film giving a beautiful completion to the character, Debbie.

fooled by randomness

“Fooled by randomness” by Nissim Nicholas Taleb is an interesting read. It tries to explain the role of chance in life, more through the example of market. In the course it speaks about probability, skewness, odd, expectation, mean vs. median- what not. The book is written in entertaining manner bringing lot of laugh and thinking. One may agree or disagree with the book, but surely it will make the reader to contemplate. A book can never change a person’s view of life on a single read. (That’s why I stay away from self guide and motivational genre.)But what, a worth a read, will do is resurfacing itself at several places showing how true it was. This book is worth a read.

Trying to explain what this book speaks is not an easy thing, but let me try to point out the ones that pops out after a week (Time is a good filter to remove the noise).

1. If we have sufficient number of monkeys knowing to hit typewriter, then there is a possibility one monkey might produce an Iliad, but it doesn’t mean it will make another epic. More the people, more the chance, the so called success to be a pure random event.

2. If there is an urn with 50 white and 50 red balls, more the red ball you take out less the chance of drawing a red ball on next draw. So in a way past history has a negative co relation in predicting future.

3. Whatever be the number of white swans you see, it is not sufficient to say all swans are white. It just need 1 black swan to say swan can be black.

4. Random thing can decide the outcome but not the way you see it or react to it. This is the important thing that made me to appreciate the book. Means, not the ends that matter. As Nissim says “The only article lady Fortuna has no control is your behavior”