Dido grates on my nerves and makes me want to kill myself

Like, when I hear her voice I want to stab myself in the eyeball repeatedly with a blunt pencil. Now watch this:



It's some kind of promo video for Dido's new album, I don't care enough to do the research. The boxer in the film is Nong Tum ("toom" with short "oo"), a kathoey kick-boxer. I think. I remember watching a movie based on her life called Beautiful Boxer which came out in 2003.

Kathoeys and hijras consistently try to establish themselves as "the third sex" only to be refered to by the rest of us as "ladyboys" and "eunuchs", i.e. freaks or sexless. Although, kathoeys are relatively well mainstreamed, at least in Bangkok, and homosexuality is relatively more tolerated in Thailand compared to the rest of Asia. They don't really seem to face the same stigma the hijras face in India where they are systemically more impoverished, etc. One of the best nights of my life involves a gay club near Patpong and 4 ladyboys. Just thought I'd share.

There was also an earlier movie called Satree Lek (The Iron Ladies) which was about a kathoey volleyball team, it was done in kind of a slapstick comedy style while Beautiful Boxer quite seriously attempted to explore poverty and gender/sex constructs within Thai society. Incidentally, "satree lek" means little women.

Anyway, I found this video through Ultrabrown where you can watch Dido do Bombay. Watch it with the sound turned off, it's for your own good. It's interesting how the clip kind of depicts the isolation and disconnect among people in Bombay. In a city where you're constantly colliding with people and are surrounded only by chatter and the sound of car horns, where everything is full speed and schizzophrenic, that even in this city people are alone and there is disconnect. I miss my Bombay city.

Sholay: not so great. Sorry.

The Bangkok International Film Festival this year is hosting a Hema Malini retrospective, showing 4 of her films out of the 600 she has shot in her entire life. Bollywood films were once incredibly popular in Thailand and throughout Southeast Asia. India had a strong film culture long before Thailand, and of course the vibrancy of Bollywood tends to be infectious. Hema Malini, I am told, was quite popular in Thailand in the 1970s when Hindi films dubbed in Thai were regularly shown in cinemas and on television. This Hema Malini retrospective aimed to recapture the essence of Bollywood as remembered by Thais in a time long ago, before all the song-dance numbers became soft-core porn.

On Friday night, members of my Film Club (I belong to a Film Club) and I watched Sholay, a classic from 1970-something. Hema Malini played the infamous role of Basanti. In 1999, BBC India declared Sholay to be the greatest Bollywood film of all time. In a controversial move that may discredit me forever, I would like to state that I thought Sholay was the most disappointing film I have ever watched and, as I sat there in the darkened cinema, I kept wishing for death to come upon me because I feared the film would never end.

Inspired by Seven Samurai, like all Hollywood Westerns, Sholay is a story of two Bollywood cowboys, Veer and Jai, who shun societal norms and are delinquents but with principles. They begin the film existing on the margins of society, where they prefer to be, breaking laws and looting the rich. The Indian masses immediately empathise and relate to them. The film ends with redemption, enabling Veer to enter mainstream society. The Indian masses immediately feel hope and upliftment. Jai, meanwhile, is dead. Listen, he dies in the 3rd hour, and the film still goes on after that. I have done you a favour by telling you, trust me.

Sholay is an important film because it set a very obvious stylistic precedent on subsequent Bollywood films, like Seven Samurai to the Western. If most Bollywood movies of the time seemed like cookie-cutter versions of the same thing, then it is because they were all, to a greater or lesser degree, taking from Sholay. But is that a reason to declare it the greatest film of all time, does that make it a classic? I wasn't moved by the film, I couldn't sympathise with any of the characters, and Gabbar Singh made me giggle rather than cry. The choreographed motorcycle sequence in the Yeh Dosti song continues to amuse me, though.

I am a huge fan of Raj Kapoor films (partially due to my left-wing pinkoism) because I love the art of story-telling and I believe he does it the best while I felt completely apathetic towards Sholay from beginning to end. Classics are supposed to be timeless, universal tales while Sholay is a film that is dated in every way, including the "dish-kaew" shotgun sound effects that I so love!

For a brief moment, I got excited that there may be a feminist message hidden in the film as Basanti flees from the bandits in her horse carriage, fighting the evil-doers off with her whip as she desperately tries to save her chastity, "Dhanno, aaj Basanti ki izzat ka savaal hai!!" The girl takes on 6 bandits! I was on the edge of my seat. Aaannnd then she gets caught and Gabbar Singh makes her dance under the scorching sun telling her that if she stops then her lover Veer will be killed. And so Basanti dances her heart out to save her man lover, she keeps going despite the exhaustion and the dehydration and just when I am convinced that any hopes of a feminist revolution via Hema Malini have been squashed, the plot thickens. She is made to dance on broken glass. Meanwhile, the dude is chilling, tied up to a pole, thinking "I will never die so long as my girlfriend's servitude continues". Clearly, I am supposed to be in awe and moved by Basanti's uncompromising faith and devotion to her man.

Anyway, Hema Malini didn't hold a post-movie Q&A because in true nationalist fashion, the Embassy held a state dinner-esque event in her honour, but she was there to introduce the film at the beginning. Good job too, the cinema had about 5 people left in it by the time the film ended. She is so stunningly beautiful, she wore a pink sari with sparkly things that distracted me.

I will end with this: mehbooba mehbooba, mehbooba mehbooba, ooo ooo oooooooooooooo. That's right, you heard me.

Yes

Had I known this film was written almost entirely in rhyming couplets, I might have stayed home to watch NDTV's coverage of Mr. Singhania's voyage to the edge of space. I wanted to write about it anyway, though parts of the film were incredibly tedious. I found myself counting syllables to spot the Haiku. I certainly didn't love it, but I am glad I saw it because one must always be supportive of intention if nothing else. These are the things that I think I believe.

The one thing I did love about Sally Potter's Yes (2004) was the role of the housemaid. She reminded me almost of the chorus in Greek tragedies who not only narrate the plot and nudge it along but also uncover deeper truths and untruths of characters and situations, offering a sense of wisdom. They are generally faceless and without identity, omniscient and clairvoyent, sometimes townspeople and sometimes hooded hordes, and it was so fitting to see that the role of the chorus was being assumed by domestic workers in a film about contemporary issues and struggles. There was a whole class-difference aspect to the movie that wasn't given enough attention to because of the concentration on race/immigrant issues. I found it to be far more interesting and insightful than the dreadfully obvious He and She characters who each typically fit into Western and Arab compartments with neatly opposing yet harmonising viewpoints on love, politics and religion.

I think movies like this one are important both in terms of art and social conciousness, but its so hard to avoid crossing the line into pretentious babble and I think that maybe this movie might have crossed the line. But one ought to watch it anyway, for its intention.

Quote of the day: "the world would be a much better place if everyone had a hot arab lover." - IMDB message board user