IFFLA through beer goggles
The last few weeks have been trying. I have suffered some personal tragedies that make the Burmese look like a bunch of sissypant whiners. On my way back to New York from IFFLA, I spent an entire day at the airport because there were 2 clouds over Timbaktoo. I finally arrrived at my apartment, only to lose my tranny shades (Chinatown – 5$) in the cab. I had two hours to rest, before heading to the airport again. This time I lost my cell phone in the cab.
And then the last straw. My only expensive piece of clothing, a $400 baby lambskin white leather jacket that has served as a panty-dropper, got stuck in a door handle and ripped. I could have had it mended. Instead, I proceeded to shred my jacket and threw it in the garbage. I was free again.
Pardon me then, if my perspective is a little skewed when I recount the events of IFFLA as I choose to remember. Two weeks after the fact. Always on schedule but never on time, as the song goes.
After a 3-day-binge, I arrived in LA sporting some massive beer goggles although it was half past the monkey’s arse. That is, if you call your monkey Midnight, ya to short main M. Night. Technically, they were beer-jameson-wine-cognac goggles but details have never interested me. Like the time I told someone on a plane that my name was Sabeer and I started a company called Hotmail.
I arrived at PFC HQ with my posse to find to my amusement, everyone waiting for me. Including a filmmaker, whom I shall refer to as Nemesis Enforcer. It was like that scene in the climax of all Hollywood action flicks when the spectators cheer for the hero after he’s saved the day. It’s outright cheesy but when it happens to you, tab patha chalega ki feeling kaise hoti hai. I felt very haaappy.
My buzz was wearing off quick, and I needed a number 69 bad. Some warm beers and a political death match later, I found myself spooning in a sausage factory, only to be woken in the morning to what sounded like cricket and folks masturbating to IPL.
I popped a beer and headed to the porch where Nemesis was smoking. I requested a seat in his beatific glow and he ignored me. When I asked again, he said, “fuck off.” The time was ripe for the Mushy doctrine of enlightened moderation. I handed him a Haywards 5000, and he smiled oh so beatifically.
Let me tell you folks that drinking is overrated. It is just an excuse to bathe in the sunny haze of a hangover as a zephyr caresses those gold beads of sweat that form on your neck. There are several things needed for an enjoyable hangover and a gradual transition to a state of functional inebriation.
Enjoyable company is a must.
California weather is ideal but I can make do with other climes in a pinch.
Pacing is critical. You have a narrow window of 3 beverages in about 1.4 hours. Details may change depending on your boxing class.
We talked about movies, life, making movies and how we were going to cover the festival. By the time I was ready to negotiate a return to sobriety, I found myself at Arc Lights on Friday evening. Some pizza may also have been consumed.
We loitered for a bit, a skill I mastered in my youth. My buzz was starting to wear off again so I grabbed a drink and hung out on the patio watching our darling filmmakers come in. For the next three days, I maintained a 3.5 drink buzz at all times, and wrestled with some big decisions. Should I talk to a filmmaker I admire or a pretty volunteer? The choice was easy.
In between, I reflected on festivals, and how they develop their brand. Most new festivals that attain prestige are star powered, the best examples being Sundance (Redford) and Tribeca (DeNiro). These are respected filmmakers that throw their weight behind their passion. Sundance is an empty shell of its heydays in the mid 90s. I watched 2 Jury prize winners at this year’s Sundance, and they were beyond horrible. They sorted through the dross to find doggie doodoo and I am yet to see a great film that was discovered at Tribeca.
Telluride comes to mind as an exception. No star power, just awesome cinema. Or so I am told. I am yet to go. IFFLA is a lambi race ka ghoda. Not the way small B was a lambi race ka ghoda where they gave him 15 odd flops, one item song, a package deal with the Big B, Bollywood’s so called empress as wife, and force fed him to a beguiled public as a star and actor. The horror. The horror.
Christina, as founder/director of IFFLA, has an eye for upcoming filmmakers. She snatched up Kashyap and Kamath (K connection? Ekta influence?) before people back home gave them any recognition. In its 5th year, it still has a way to go in becoming a powerhouse, par intezaar ka mazaa hi alag hai.
The filmmakers to watch out for are Shivajee Chandrabhushan, Manish Acharya and Liz Mermin.
Chandrabhushan (Frozen) has a knack for capturing beauty, and creating some breathtaking images. I didn’t like the film, but his talent is undeniable. As an exercise, compare with Lakshya which was also shot in Ladakh. The screenwriter is an easy bogeyman when trying to find faults. In this case, the DP is also the writer (Shanker Raman). Perhaps the only time I have seen this combination. While Raman’s cinematography was pristine, his writing needed work. It may have been a case of biting off more than they could chew. I liked their attempt at not tying the knots and not giving you a pre-digested narrative that hits all the marks but has no soul. But cinema and life are not the fucking Olympics where you get points for effort.
Maybe it is just a coincidence that Frozen was screened at the same time as Tarsem’s The Fall (as a last minute preview screening to replace Mrityudand as Madhuri’s tribute, due to her indisposition). Maybe it’s just a coincidence that Tarsem Singh’s debut feature, The Cell, sucked camel’s balls but had some of the most striking images and visual ambience this side of Gilliam’s Brazil.
Maybe, just maybe, it is a coincidence that The Fall is a fantastic film (watch for my post).
The next film Shivajee makes and gets a release, I will stand in line to buy a ticket. Producerlog, give him some money.
Loins of Punjab Presents (audience award winner) is what American Dreamz should have been. To call the film just funny, or compare it to other Diaspora Desi bhelpuri-chutney-chai-popcorn films is to belittle Acharya. It is hilarious and touching. I even cried twice, but my tastes are suspect so don’t go by that. Much against his wishes, I watched a screener copy on DVD at the Pad because I was indisposed during his screening. Perhaps a pretty volunteer had something to do with it.
An ensemble of familiar desi faces – Azmi, Ajay Naidu, Ayesha Dharker, that girl from Monsoon Wedding, that girl from Sins (shudder – the movie, not the girl). Every character is fully realized, and each subplot gets a great climax that reveals character and moves the plot forward. The writing is, for lack of a better word, sublime. Manish just happened to be the lucky sonofabitch with a camera to capture things as they went down. Or that’s the feeling I got. He is a very good manipulator, and the trick is to not let the audience know that it is all manufactured. All filmmaking is audience manipulation, and the good ones know how to conceal the sleight of hand.
I think Hawks or Ford or *insert revered filmmaker here* said that a good film needs 3 great scenes and none bad. It’s always the little touches that stay with you. There is a funny, and touching scene when the gay Turbantor (Ajay Naidu) and his boyfriend are laying in bed next to each other with facial masks and kutchumbers on their eyes. The boyfriend eats his cucumber (no innuendo here) slice, and that earned a laugh. Then Naidu feeds the boyfriend his cucumber slice. Awwww.
There is a scene in the climax when the white boy sings the Indian National anthem because the band doesn’t know the Bollywood song he had rehearsed. Contrast this scene with Johar’s National anthem scene in KKKG, with Kajol running up to the podium. Acharya owns.
There were no performances, just characters populating the screen and going about their lives. It was great to see Shabana in true form. She was all icy desperation. The other scene that comes to mind is the timid Patel girl (from Monsoon Wedding I think), and her climax. She hasn’t spoken a word throughout the movie, and her parents are overbearing. I figured Manish had a big melodramatic finish for her complete with bhaashan and maa ke aansu. He throws in a reversal there, and it is entirely satisfying.
Unfortunately most festivals and awards don’t favor comedies, with the exception of Napoleon Dynamite at Sundance. But, funny is money, and I hope Manish laughs his way to the bank and makes another film. Like stat.
And we come to the lovely Ms. Mermin, the maker of Shot in Bombay, a documentary about the making of Shootout in Lokhandwala. I have always wondered what draws so many women to make documentaries. 9/10 times I meet a filmmaker of the favored gender, they are documentarians. This is not to say that there aren’t male doc filmmakers.
Liz has made 2 other docs, the outsourcing themed Office Tigers (set in India) and Beauty Academy of Kabul. They are both available on Netflix, and on my queue. Liz, if you’re reading this you may wonder why I don’t just watch it online on netflix. One word. Mac.
Liz could have made a doc about the making of any Bollywood film. It may have turned out to be a documentary version of Bollywood Calling (Kukunoor). As someone said in a Steven Seagal movie, “Fortune favors the prepared mind.” She could not have found a better film than Shootout to base her documentary on. You have multiple stars, it’s based on a true rumor, the lead has a pending terrorist case against him in court, and she got interviews with the real life cops and gangsters in the film.
Despite the negative reviews about Shootout, I actually felt like watching the film after the doc, and was sympathetic to the director Apoorva Lakhia. And my suspicions about DVD Chor Sanjay Gupta (Producer) have been confirmed. The man is bereft of any redeeming qualities.
Mermin has a non-intrusive style, and while she gives the impression of objectivity, in her own subtle way, she nudges the audience toward her viewpoint. Liz also manages to keep the cameras rolling long enough to capture that moment of honesty towards the end of any interview when the stars think it’s over and let their guard down.
Watch this space for an interview with her which is far more interesting than anything I could write about her and the filmmaking experience.
I had fun at IFFLA.
Tags: IFFLA
Anurag Kashyap
Abhay Deol
Dibakar Banerjee
Hansal Mehta
Khalid Mohamed
Kundan Shah
Anish Kuruvilla
Jaideep Verma
Manish Gupta
Navdeep Singh
Bhavani Iyer
D. Santosh
Onir
Ashvin Kumar
Ramu Ramanathan
Sudhir Mishra
Pankaj Advani
Revathy
Saurabh Shukla
Shilpa Shukla
Sujoy Ghosh
Suparn Verma
Santosh Sivan
Shashank Ghosh
Shivajee
Pavan Kaul
Partho Sen-Gupta
Prroshant Naryannan
Sam Langoria
Satish Kasetty
Amen Brother.
:-)
now waiting for that Sanjay Routroy bit
:-)hey what about Sriram Raghvan…the silent genius…
@ Rav & DPac,
Trying to retrieve the pieces of my conversation with routray to make a coherent post. will soon.
@ shivajee,
sriram already has 2 films that got wide releases in india, and limited abroad. I think Chrisitina’s intention or at least what i would like to see IFFLA doing is showcasing debut fetaures that are languishing for a release.
what’s your next project? and since you already have the addiction to PFC now, how about just coming on board and writing?
watching this space…
As far as the DP/Writer combo goes I know of one instance which resulted in one of the most beautiful films ever made.
Kieslowski and Slawomir Idziak collaborated on the screenplay for “Blue”.
I’m dying to see “Frozen”. Any chance of it appearing on netflix ?
@dabs…why I mentioned sriram was that I personally was very much interested in knowing the reactions of the audience,Americans…and it was en lighting for me to hear the Questions…I think Sriram rocks…Well next project…I dont know…coming on board on PFC? Why would anybody read what I have to write?
@mithun…where are you based? maybe I could invite you to the next screening…netflix?Nah…
@Shivajee
I’m in LA and why I missed IFFLA is a long story.
@Mithun
I have nothing to say :-)Pray may be that film gets a release fast.
@ shivajee, mithun
don’t worry shivajee. it is widely acknowledged that mithun is lame.