http://www.newindianexpress.com/columns/How-New-Age-Make-believe-Differs-from-the-Older-Ones/2015/08/17/article2977597.ece
How 'New-Age' Make-believe Differs from the Older Ones
By Seshu Chamarty
Published: 17th August 2015 06:00 AM
Last Updated: 16th August 2015 10:54 PM
I watched Bahubali the other day. The amount of money pumped into the make-believe Telugu-Tamil bilingual, also dubbed into Hindi and other languages, by its makers is impressive. It is beside the point that I feel the storyline is wanting in some key areas such as a compelling storyline. Bahubali made me visualise my great-grandson — whenever he comes into the picture — watching a movie like this in the futuristic ‘new-age’ cinema of his times.
In the ‘new-age’ cinema, the credits would show an array of overwhelming unisex robots and cartoons. Robots will be the villains and the cartoon caricatures protagonists, interchangeably. The locations will be utopian. So, it will be mighty hard for one to associate a particular place pictured in the movie with any particular geographical entity in the world. So, it could be the Mars or any other planet, as the guess of the viewers goes.
Secondly, the ‘new-age’ producers are not inclined to take undue risks, since in the last generation they were bogged down by various writs and complaints on account of presumed or real slurs — political, social or imagined ones picked from scenes, sound bites or in passing references. The slurs involved religion, caste, region, gender, etc.
And so, the titles given to the movies are merely some vague numbers. Earlier, they used to be words, phrases or even full sentences and suggested some convenient meanings and thus, the same were invariably used to blame the producers for being politically incorrect or outright slanderous. These days, movie storylines are deliberately made very silly and yet, contain a novel theme.
However, the plot will be unrelated to any goings-on in the real world, be it the savage activities of the Islamic State or deadlocked parliaments.
In the ‘new–age’ cinema, emotions have no room in the interplay of characters. A handshake is a mere wave of a flag or shaking of some other object on the sets. If it is moved at all, it amounts to a kiss. If the flag is placed on firm ground, say on a glass plane in the bar or a hotel, it means there is scope for certain deeper relation like dating or consummation of marriage between the lead characters inside the halls or bedrooms.
What is contained in the action scenes is left to the moviegoers’ conjecture that is in accordance with their subjective regional feelings. The director has nothing to do with the storyline or its faults and the same is sworn in a certificate before the opening scene.
Comedy is by and large absent. If the audience need some laughs, they take a bottle attached to their seats and lift it carefully. They will have to direct the nozzle to the face and press the button for release of laughing gas. The viewer then wears a mask and immediately laughs his/her head or heart out, lest the neighbours’ privacy is affected or, worse, they take offence at such public displays of emotions.
Lo, the tragic emotions are released by yet another bottle, now glowing in green, and kept on the left side of the seat. It contains the good old glycerin. Thereafter, the viewer will put on a helmet with a black visor, so that none in the front row or back even suspects him/her of crying. (Be it one’s spouse in the next seat.)
Reviews are never published either on the net or in print. Censor boards give no certificates for exhibition since all films are Universal by default.
One or two films might be certified for ‘Parental Guidance’, only for children or newcomers to know the way out of cinemas, that too, in case of extreme emotional outbursts. Next, viewers’ ratings are conveniently gleaned off Facebook walls to decide the best movie, best lead robots, best lead cartoons, best sound bites, among others.
After watching the movie, my great-grandson would record his impressions on a console at the cinema exit. He drives home and would not tell the story to his wife, since the plot is confidential.
Moreover, he does take an oath at the box-office or on the booking portal. His wife senses the rating by her husband after looking at his damp shirt and funny face. She goes to the show to check and record her own impression of the flick across her husband’s funny face.
2.
Laughter is the Best Medicine,But Keep It Kosher
By Seshu Chamarty
Published: 04th November 2015 06:00 AM
Last Updated: 04th November 2015 03:08 AM
No one dislikes a fine joke. We all have a funny line now and then to share and enjoy. One that can tickle the funny bone of even diehards practising sombreness and refusing to laugh. On any given day, I love humour, be it raw or refined, lighthearted or heavy, regional or foreign in origin, captured/drawn in photos/cartoons, enacted in plays, movies, TV shows, etc. I loved reading jokes online about Obama, Modi, former presidents and prime ministers, chapathi or sambar, sweetmeat or beef , non-natives vs natives, vegetarians vs the rest, green card holders, greenbacks, blondes, brunettes, gays/straights, including my own class of lawyers (example, lawyer’s tombstone has this written on it, his own favourite quote, ‘Here he lies still’).
The offhand way in which a joke is told often adds to the humour, setting off more guffaws. Humour could also be cruel. There could be also jokes that are weird and far-fetched. Certain jokes are critical about society and its idiosyncrasies, some educate — through the ironies of life. If a joke is pedestrian, it falls flat, like any insipid news.
Again, if the news on TV says a dog bites a man, it makes no news. If the same man bites the dog, and when such dog dies, it would make a great breaking story. We find from chats on Facebook, WhatsApp and other platforms that the present youth while typing out their messages most often insert smileys and other symbols of expression, including abbreviations such as ROFL (Rolling On the Floor Laughing). In the early days of social networking, I had no idea what that meant. I thought it was all profanity in short-form.
So many jokes are created, read, revised and recycled and circulated on social media, and if you attempt to read all of them at one go, you would probably need a sitting with a psychiatrist. So, moderation in ingesting humour, especially in these days of online glut, should be the watchword.
Good humour does not use religion or caste tags. So misusing humour in the context of divisions in society is unpardonable. Likewise, it is cheap comedy that targets the vulnerable and those with bodily challenges.
It is also not funny to ridicule creative stuff (critique is always welcomed, even harsh; only the same should not attack the person behind the artist).
Moreover, in the unfortunate event of any unexpected tragedy befalling someone, it should not be referred to in jocular manner. If the same thing were to happen to us, we wouldn’t find it funny, would we? Most comedians comes across as serious people off the screen. For example, Charlie Chaplin.
Ideal humour is when we can laugh at ourselves. Assuming I were a monkey, I would ask a guy, “Why do you wear clothes?” Likewise, a dog in philosophical mood would say, “Hey, why do you build toilets in the first place?” Aren’t the humans the most fun-loving species ever? Humour, therefore is subjective. If we can say that humour is a game too, then it has to be played by some set rules. But, alas, humour has no formulae. Yet your right to wield your walking stick stops where my nose begins.
Wit is serious stuff to be used on a level-playing field for everyone to enjoy, to make us see the world in the right perspective from an apparently skewed way, just to redefine our ideal roles and at the same time making us forget our worries temporarily. Humour, for sure, adds to our humility and vulnerability.
c_seshu@yahoo.com
3.
Pondering the Meaning of Life on Marina Beach
By Seshu Chamarty
Published: 17th November 2015 06:00 AM
Last Updated: 17th November 2015 08:20 AM
That evening I was strolling along Marina beach. In passing I noticed many sets of footsteps of different sizes and shapes. All of a sudden it struck me that it takes all kinds of people to make the world. Some footprints made my walking difficult. It was then that the ironies of life flashed through my mind. From those footprints how difficult it is to guess who walked before me. Did they belong to children or adults, men or women? More particularly were they rich or poor, sick or healthy, happy or sad and so on? Those footprints were far from the original since the impressions left behind were on the loose sand. Next I inched forward, walking closer to the seafront. The waves were breaking gently on the shore ceaselessly.
Another thought occurred: Could ocean species outnumber those on land? But being underwater they should be leading a worry-free life while working out their differences according to nature’s laws in perfect balance. We humans have not colonised the marine environment to the extent of growing our habitations on the seabed, not to mention a few submarines and some ‘fish-eating fish’ scenarios. At worst, marine life might be bothered by the pollutants released by humans besides El Nino conditions and the like.
Talking of amity in diversity, I wondered how many, since the distant past including the likes of Swami Vivekananda and Gandhiji, tried to bring a harmonious chord out of complexities for semblance of order in our human coexistence. Were we a quieter lot before this information and knowledge explosion and competitive wars in battlefields as well as market arenas? We are capable of putting rovers on Mars, but helpless when over 200 million Indians sleep hungry every night. The rich wallow in wealth; the world’s US dollar billionaires’ brigade comprises a whopping 90 Indians, while the commoners amongst us have a whale of difference in opinions on myriad issues such as returning national awards out of protest.
The ordinary citizen has to battle a rat race to one-up in varied spheres which woefully boast of no trappings of a level-playing-field. Even in a day-to-day routine, it is difficult to grab a seat in the daily commute before anyone else. Most are after a wage rise always, and businesses bottomlines are always wanting as well.
Beyond all these hurdles and divisions, there is a still thing called ego, which I consider the common denominator and also sine qua non. In fact, it differentiates us from the rest. Most wars are fought, for example the Second World War, thanks to ego. Right from birth, we humans endowed with logic and reason are trained to make a difference in things, which can be the so-called education for that matter. Now, let me narrow the scope of my thoughts. A just-born looks at anything that moves before its eyes and perceives the same to be its mom’s breast. That was the first instinct to survive. In due course, the baby identifies the correct shape and curves besides the touch, feel and voice. At school and in play, the child adapts itself to being in a group and meets expectations from its peers and elders. Later society and class come in, to cope with, challenging one to make a mark therein. During the waking hours, one’s need is always to check if one is on a firmer ground.
The blabber in my head bothered me that day on the beach sands, as the night was setting in. At the end of the day what mattered to me was self-respect regardless of whether I had money or not, health or not. It mattered most, to recognise my dignity in the large and intimidating world. Not losing it ought to be my endeavor till I breathed my last.
With these questions resolved in my mind, I boarded a bus to reach my sister’s house in that foreign place. The bus conductor asked me if I had enough money to buy a ticket, in a language I was not familiar with. Still, I was sure it was something on similar lines, from the laughter his query generated from the other passengers. I smiled at them and joined in their laughter.
c_seshu@yahoo.com
No comments:
Post a Comment