It's Good Friday, Folks

Lately I've been seeing this quite a bit: Islam bashing on the blogsphere. People quote incidents in rural Bihar or Iraq, and make sweeping statements about Islamic theology. Personally, I didn't expect such vitriolic behavior from Indians. Understandably some people (ie, some Hindus) have preconceived notions about Islam, and those notions are culturally inherited. Understandable. Not acceptable, but understandable.

This view of Islam as the enemy of Hinduism is, well, old. For some time now, Hinduism has been facing serious onslaughts, and it ain't from Islam. Most Hindus are so blinkered into seeing Islam as the enemy, they fail to see what's happening under their very noses. The Churches are far more active than people realize, and they mean business.

When I was a kid, my folks kept a maid to look after me, and to ensure my older siblings didn't toss me in the trash (or scratch my eyes out). This maid also worked in the nearby Church, cleaning and stuff. The priest told her that if she and her daughter converted, the girl could join the school run by the Church, free. As the maid told my mother," If converting gives my daughter a better future, then why not?" Good point.

Years later, I would meet the occasional Bible Society fellow or Jehovah's Witness, who would talk to our family about THE Family. I guess we were nice enough, and listened patiently. As Hindus, we were open to all forms of worship, and tolerant of dissenters. But how much can you take, when someone comes into your home, and disses your belief system as mere superstition? No Sir. After a while, all Bible Society solicitations were answered by the snarling dog. Run Witness, run. The power of Jehovah compels you! Hehehehe.

In school I did have a rather pushy classmate, who seemed intent on scoring.... my soul. Funny how when they expect you to listen patiently while they proselytize, yet are scandalized when you do the same.

It was only in college that I came to appreciate the scale of these operations. South India is a virtual cesspool of Churches. Every bus is plastered with innocuous looking posters for "Youth Meetings", which turn out to be gatherings to praise His name. Gosh, it's all so cloak and dagger, they might as well be putting on white cloaks and burning Crosses, rather than worshiping them. It's common to see posters for firebrand preachers with names like Rev. John Kumar or Kishore Ezekiel Thomas. I've heard a few. It's all fire-and-brimstone sermons.

If you dig a bit deeper, you'll see that the traditional Churches in India are relatively quiet. The Catholic and Anglican Churches are comfortable to keep to themselves, and aren't looking to score major converts. But the American Protestant Churches are really stepping on the gas. In Tamil Nadu, you are never too far from a Pentecost Church. The Pentecosts are pilferaging from the traditionally sane flocks of the CSI (Church of South India). It's these American Churches that are doing the maximum damage. Students are actively working on their classmates. Not so long ago, after my father passed away, a classmate told me that I should think instead of the Heavenly Father, and how much Jesus loves me. I'd seen this before. They went after people who were emotionally vulnerable, and comfort them with Jesus. I saw it at work on another classmate, who finally succumbed to the Jesus-babble. I was carpet bombed with scriptural SMSes, biblical nuggets on grief and loss. I was told the "Living Word of God" would make everything all right. I was literally handed a Bible in class. I politely told her thanks, but I already have two Bibles at home, which I have read. I added that they sit quite comfortably between my two copies of the Gita, and the Quran. They seem to get along fine. Why don't you read what the Quran has to say?

The Baptist and Pentecost Churches also seem to encourage a schism with the rest of Indian society. A lot of people identity more with the Mother Churches in the US than with other Indians. It's this that has me most worried.

The picture above is a sticker on a door near mine, by a group called The India Church Growth Mission, or ICGM. It is Psalms 128:5: “The LORD bless you from Zion. May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life.”

Tamil: to be or not to be

One of the first things I became acutely aware of in Madurai was the notion of identity. It excludes as much as it includes. So which is it? What defines identity? Ethnicity? Primary language? Religion? Caste?

The first billboard I saw in Madurai was a bilingual one, the only bilingual billboard I have ever seen in Madurai. It said, in Tamil and English (in that order), "Tamil language, divine language". I'm told such billboards are scattered across Tamil Nadu. Now, what I don't get is, why English? In all such matters, the use of English is anathema to the "Tamil-is-divine" bunch. So why have a billboard announcing the greatness of Tamil; in English? It's obvious: for the benefit of people like me. Just what they wanted me to take from it, I still dunno.

Something that's always confused me is the sense of Tamil identity. Tamils are probably the most divisive people I know, yet there is a strange sense of belonging. What's stranger still is the number of ethnically non-Tamils who identify themselves as Tamil. When non-Tamils (especially northies) think of Tamil (or any other group), we think ethnic group. A lot of the pro-Tamil people I know turned out to be ethnic Telugus, or Mallus. One recent expat from Andhra went so far as to tell me he now preferred Tamil over Telugu. Back in Bangalore, the first person I
knew from Tamil Nadu (and identifying herself as Tamil) turned out to be Telugu as well.

Yesterday I passed by two Badagas chatting. For those of you who don't know, Badagas are the largest tribal group in the Nilgiri hills, and speak a dilect of Kannada. I thought I'd use my scant knowledge of Kannada and eavesdrop. Well, whadya know? They were talking in Tamil! I don't get it. Every Badaga I've encountered is very proud of his heritage and language. Yet at least one Badaga I know speaks to his parents in Tamil.

This sort of identity-cross-connection is something I hadn't encountered in the North, at least not at this scale. In the North people are more prone to think in terms of religion=language, but that's definitely not the case here. Most Christians here (again, unlike the North) dress, speak, and behave much like everybody else. Women dress in Indian attire, and sport bindis and Hindu-inspired jewelery. Tamil Churches depict Mary in a sari, again, unlike in the North. In fact, in Bangalore I discovered that pilgrims visiting shrines of Mary for her Feast Day wear
saffron, since it is a holy colour for Indians (as told to me by one such pilgrim).

In contrast, Christians from the North (or the North-East) are far more uprooted (if I may use that term) from their ancestral culture. While most South Indian Christians have Sanskrit names, most North Indian ones do not. There is a denominational bias here. Most recent converts to American protestant churches are especially critical of "Indian" systems, and take special pains to distance themselves from anything “Indian”. It's a cultural thing too, after all. There's a greater identification with the US as the Mother Culture, rather than their
heathen ancestral one.

In recent times, these American churches have made serious inroads into South India, and I hope to cover that in a later post.

2001 : An Identity Crisis

Odd, how we feel when a long term goal is accomplished. For me, that was watching 2001: A Space Odyssey.

I first discovered this film back in school. After the exams, you gotta kill time somehow. Well, for me that meant the library. I discovered this coffee table sorta book, full of visions of how the future might be. Flying cars, giant laser beams, and all that jazz. That's where I first read about 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was hooked.

But when I finally saw the film a few days ago, I was intrigued instead by something else. This film asks obtuse questions about the essence of humanity and consciousness. But I was struck by what shapes our outlook of the world in the first place, and how fluid and dynamic that really is.

Case in point: Scientific concepts trickling down into the public domain and reshaping how we see ourselves and the world. Take for example the descent of man from apes. A concept now so rooted in the public imagination. Hardly the case even 50 years back.

So much has changed. Spiderman is now the result of genetic manipulation, not radiation. ditto with the Hulk. Genetics is the new unknown frontier. Everybody now knows what DNA is. You can have a scene like the Terminatrix performing real-time Genomic sequencing of John Connor's DNA, and everybody can understand what just happened. 20 years ago, could an average audience understand such a scene? 30 years ago? Hardly. It's not like sequencing is a new concept, it just wasn't a part of the public imagination.

Perhaps what I find most disconcerting is how half baked scientific ideas are being paraded in the public. I'll provide an example. As you may or may not know, I am currently working in the population genetics of North Indians, for which I've been analysing the DNA of North Indian men, looking for evidence of migration patterns. I discovered that I carry a genetic marker called M17, which is predominant in Central Asia, Iran, Russia, and Eastern Europe. It is sometimes ubiquitously called the Indo-Aryan marker due to its distribution. Based on its genetic signature, it is believed M17 probably appeared somewhere in the Ukraine region, and spread outwards. M17 is widespread in Iran and North Indian upper castes as well. Curious, I decided to look around for any mention of this marker in the lay media. Well, I was shocked, to say the least. It seems for quite some time now; this and other serious genetic work has been tossed around in the media. People with no understanding of genetics are grossly misinterpreting such work to push forward their own narrow minded agendas. Several articles quote M17 to show an Indo-centric view of the world, the Hindu right-wing notion that the Aryans came from India, and spread outwards. They quote bits from serious research work, and it all looks real convincing.

For that matter, I’ve seen many scientists with a very wrong notion of the basics of Genetics. Especially in a sensitive area such as population genetics, that can be explosive. Take for example the politics of Tamil Nadu. The Dravidian movement seeks to brand Brahmins as outsiders, alien exploiters plundering the innocent Dravidians. Half understood genetic evidence would only serve such bigots. But it’s happening. Even among my classmates, who represent the cream of Tamil Nadu society in terms of education, caste is a dirty secret. Everybody expects caste to come around and bite them on the ass. Caste politics is BIG here. So it’s best not to reveal your own caste affiliations, especially if you’re a Brahmin. I know this because as part of my work, I have to collect details about the person’s ancestry, including nativity, and sub castes. These details are things many people are not comfortable disclosing, even to me.

Funny, isn’t it? In just a few generations, we’ve gone from being proud of our ancestry, to being embarrassed by it. Just goes to show our notions of identity aren't as deep as we like to think.

Munich: Ho hum

Munich was a mixed bag for me.

I must confess, I had a major misconception about this film. I thought this film dealt with the Munich massacre. Not the case. This film deals with what happens after the massacre itself.

Considering the touchy subject matter, and the fact that it’s Steven Spielberg, of all people, I was hooked. A fine film, on the whole. The quality you come to expect out of a Spielberg. Eric Bana is always a delight, and was nice to see more screen time devoted to him. Not the brightest bulb in the store, but pleasant, nonetheless.

That said, this film can be a major yawn fest. Pacing is a problem. You soon lose touch with what exactly is going on, and that’s never a good sign. Some parts of the story seem seriously flat, and it tends to really stretch creditability. Bana may be OK, but the sore spots really bring him down.

I don’t why Spielberg does this, but he has this penchant for inappropriate sex scenes, when it tends to hurt the film the most. Why? The bit right at the end just made it silly. Not cool, Mr. Spielberg. Two reasons for this. One, it undermines the character. Two, inserting key story elements within racy sequences begging for the censor’s scissors. Whether you like it or not, censors exist, and this is a great disservice to the audiences who lose out.

Addendum

From my recent posts, it might seem Madurai is a horrible place. Hardly.

Without a doubt, the people I have met in Madurai are the nicest I have met anywhere. They are friendly and helpful, to the point of absurdity. PhD scholars offering me lifts to the department is pretty common. Scholars who have gone out of their way (way out) to help me with something. Students and classmates who have offered to do something, out of their own accord. I haven't gone to the bank to pay my fees in over a year, because everytime somebody who was going there offered to do it. This is a big deal, considering it requires forms to be filled in triplicate.

I have complete strangers do completely unexpected nice things. Like the old man on the bus who indicated his stop was coming, and I take his seat. That has never happened to me, EVER, in Delhi or Bangalore. But its not that uncommon in Madurai. Or the time this guy called up three different people (from his own phone) to get me directions.

These are the people of Madurai.

Old women who called me Thambi

When I first came to Madurai almost 3 years ago, I had the approach of an idealist. I thought people do bad things, but they do what they think is right for them. I thought the real India would be pretty much how I imagined it: just like urban India, only different. I thought people would be free of the petty meanness that comes from urban living. I sometimes wonder; everywhere you look in India, there is desperation behind every face. Fathers running themselves into the ground to feed their kids. You want the best for your kids, you want them to be safe, to be healthy, to have a secure future. But even the basics take so much. No matter how hard you try, it's not enough. It's like Alice through the Looking Glass, who runs as hard as she can, but she stays right where she was.

I once visited the home of a classmate in another part of Tamil Nadu. She lives so far out of the city, it takes a 15 minute ride in a private coach after the last bus stop, over very bad roads. Even that late at night, the coach was packed, so I guess a lot of people live there. Her home turned out to be tiny and spartan. Minimalist, even. When I heard they get fresh water in a 10 day cycle (10 days water, then 10 days no water, and so on. We were visiting during the dry cycle), it certainly put things into perspective. I bitch and moan that my home on South Delhi gets only 300-400 litres a day. It turned my trip into a guilt trip. Her family was so nice, it was heartbreaking to think people live like this.

For what it's worth, her father is a manager in a nationalised bank.

Funny, isn't it, our sense of perspective? If you live in India, no matter where you are, you will encounter quiet desperation. Maybe the kid holding the tissue boxes outside your car, or the man holding open the lift. We learn early on that they are not part of our world, and we learn not to see them. They float through our world, phantoms crossing our path, but never intersecting.

One time Aditya and I were coming back from visiting some friends of mine, and after waiting 15 minutes for a bus, we decided to take an auto. As it turned out, the driver was pretty chatty. He chatted about his brand new digital meter, commended us on our scant Kannada, and impressed us both with his hindi. But I was really taken in by this man. He was an engineer, but with no job, he drove this rickshaw at night. In the day, he went job hunting. With a huge grin, he produced his laminated certificates from under his seat, and told us he had gone for an interview that morning. This guy had it pretty rough, but he was so cheerful. We wished the best of luck, and went on our way. A few days later, I was talking to a guy in my hostel who was from my school in Delhi. All I remember from that conversation was something about driving his dad's Mercedes at a 120 Kms/hr on the highway outside Delhi... without a license. Talk about perspective, huh?

When I first came to Madurai, I was taken aback by the things I saw. Things you know happen, just not right in front of you. At the main bus stand, there were people sleeping on the platforms, some of whom I noticed hadn't changed positions in days. Many had barely a rag to cover themselves. Old women who called me Thambi, hoping for some spare change. Men who walked as if there was nothing to come home to.

And what was I doing? Well, to the old ladies I said, "Kaas illa"; and watched a DVD of a french film made by a polish guy, while eating a Chicken Sandwich, a Mars bar, and washed down by Diet Coke (ironic, I know). When a single tear runs down Juliet Binoche's cheek, I am all choked up. Such grief! Such loss! As Kaushik would say, so pathetic! I was overwhelmed. But the poor sods I saw earlier that day at the bus stand? Eh.

The colour of Prejudice

I finally saw Crash.

One thing, I am never sure what to write about a movie. I don't want to give anything away, or ruin it for anybody. Which, I might add, leaves very little for me to say. I think it's more appropriate for me to talk about the context of the films within my own life.

As you know, I watched this film in the backdrop of the surprise upset for Brokeback Mountain. Undoubtedly, I had more than a little bias against it. That said, I was sure Crash was a great film, and couldn't wait to see it. I had first heard of the film about 6 months back, and was mighty impressed by the trailer. And then, it sorta just dropped off the radar. Well, not anymore.

Crash is a clever film. I throughly enjoyed it, and saw it at least thrice (lately I've been repeating films out of sheer boredom, so big whoop). It warms my heart that stories like this are being told. Racism is an issue that is too oft sidelined and caricatured, and whether we like it or not, we are all subject to it. Ok, so there is racism. Big deal. We already knew that. But then again, it's not everyday a mainstream film (an Oscar winner, to boot) raises questions most people are uncomfortable to think about. A off hand remark here, a prejudiced opinion there... racism in a way most people could identify with, and that makes them uncomfortable.

I spent a lot of time trying to come up with a scenario from the movie that would effectively convey the sense of discrimination people face. But everything I came up with seems so circumstantial and easily dismissed as pointless intellectual conjecture. Which is why I give you examples from my own life. I have lived for the past three years in a place that officially discriminates against my community. As a Brahmin, I am constantly reminded that Brahmins are not welcome in Tamil Nadu. Before I came here, I was warned by family friends familiar with Tamil Nadu not to mention that I am a Brahmin. Like most of you, I dismissed it out of hand as medieval thinking. People don't really think like that, do they? After all, here I was, a dyed-in-the-wool ultra über-liberal armchair anarchist, with an innocent face and puppy dog eyes... who could hate me?! Or so I thought. Hatred is everywhere. If it's not one thing, it's another. Tamils hated me 'cause I spoke Hindi, and came from Bangalore. Protestant evangelist classmates hated me 'cause I wasn't leap frogging into the loving bosom of Jesus like all my other heathen classmates. P.h.D scholars distrusted me 'cause I was a brahmin with a big mouth who didn't kowtow to their whims. Professors disliked me 'cause I would speak up in class, and my marks bore the brunt. Other students disliked me 'cause I didn't observe the strict protocol of sexual segregation in public.... no boys sitting with girls, or unnecessary talking, or the like. When for the first time in my life, I flunked a paper, I was stunned. It was a subject I had majored in during my undergrad, and I thought I knew the subject matter fairly well. This was till I heard whispers that the prof was a bigot who favoured his cronies, and had a strong dislike for brahmins. But I thought, my secret is safe. Nobody knows I'm a brahmin. That illusion vanished when I saw my permanent records file in the office, with BRAHMIN branded across the front. I shit you not. Your file prominently displays your caste... followed by your name in appropriatly smaller letters.

In the hostel mess, I almost always get served last, no matter where I sit. I get the rotis or puris nobody else wanted. My dosas are always cold and undercooked. At first I was pissed, but after a few years, you tend to just shrug your shoulders and do nothing.

When our hostel mess secretary decided to serve beef, the other north Indians were outraged. This was blasphemous, and they refused to eat in the mess on those days. While I have no personal problems with beef, I was flabbergasted that North Indians could be treated so coldly. It quickly became clear that the beef issue served little purpose other than to humiliate northies. Cooking beef with no prior warning (especially religious holidays) left the northies with no options to make alternate arrangements. Many would go to bed hungry. I raised this issue with every higher authority, and everybody had the same response: deal with it. WTF? My initial response would have been to put these bigots in their place, but living here has made me realise how wonton their hatred is. I know most of you who read this will think it unjust, but that's just how it is.

And it goes both ways. None of the other northies has even attempted to learn Tamil. They consider Tamil to be vile and wretched; a most heinous language. I can tell you that's definately not the case. But the prejudices go deep. Imagine my joy at meeting another amateur linguist, conversant with a few Indian languages; familiar with French, German, Dutch; and a smattering of Sindarin. He also made it clear he thought Tamil was a foul and uncouth language, and had none of the charm of the Indo-European languages. This really had me thinking. Here was someone highly educated, in the top 0.2% of the Indian population, and bigoted. He was hardly the exception. Almost every North Indian I know has a fairly similiar opinion of the South.

Prejudice knows no boundaries. Actually, scratch that. Prejudice knows nothing but boundaries.

Brokeback High expulsion a hoax

Well, whadya know? Looks like I fell for it, just like everyone else.

The expulsion of high schooler Brandon Flyte over his class film project has turned out to be an elaborate hoax. While he did make the film for his english class, and it did have the controversial snuggle scene in it, there was no expulsion. It seems it was a hoax, and now he's in real trouble.

Brokeback High

Brandon Flyte, a student at West Linn High School in West Linn, Oregon, was recently expelled for airing a video project he had been assigned in class which includes a same-sex "snuggle" scene. The film, Brokeback High, is a "gay love story" based on themes from Brokeback Mountain, but set in a modern day high school.

Flyte writes on his website:

"One has to wonder if any of this would've happened had the two characters snuggling in my film been male and female. We're led to believe that diversity is encouraged in schools, but when a 17 year-old straight kid makes a serious gay love story and is expelled for it, it just begs the question of exactly what kind of policy was the administration following? I recall Tim Fields, one of the vice-principals at my school, having to think for at least a minute when asked by the office lady, 'What should I put down for 'reason of withdrawal'?' If the basis of my expulsion is so unclear to them, then surely the circumstances surrounding it are extremely questionable and the grounds on which I was removed are both unfair and unexplainable."

Wow. Man, kids today... when I was 17, I was gripped by the boxers vs briefs debate.

There is a clip of Brokeback High on his website, and an area to leave comments and support. According to Flyte, "West Linn High says they’ll pay for me to finish up my last 2 months of high school at Clackamas Community College, and I'll be able to walk with my high school class at graduation and attend Prom as a guest."

The faineant solitudinarian shoots his own film today... best of luck.

Annie Proulx is pissed

... and isn't afraid to show it. Ooh Snap!

Bless her soul. Read what the author of Brokeback Mountain had to say about her Oscar® experience.

Looks like she didn't take the loss of BBM too well, huh? Snarky. Good to know.

Post-Crash Post

Post Oscars, there has been a lot of debate online as to the shock win of 'Crash', and 'Brokeback's debacle. While I personally didn't expect Brokeback to win every award it was nominated for, I did expect it to haul in most of them. Some of the Brokeback nominations were against very strong contenders, such as Philip Seymour Hoffman, or George Clooney (Supporting Actor). It would have been unrealistic for BBM to bag those Oscars, but I didn't expect the relatively poor haul. Ang Lee's Oscar is well deserved, and lessens the sense of outrage.

BBM has swept every major film festival it entered, beginning with the Venice film festival, the Berlin festival, Telluride... it wasn't allowed to compete in the Cannes film festival. This was followed by awards by every major American group... the Producers Guild of America, the Hollywood Foreign Press Assn., the Broadcast Film Critics Assn. and the British Academy. The lone exception was the Screen Actor's Guild, which leaned towards Crash.

In hindsight, there were clear signs that BBM would fare far poorer at the Oscars. Reuters has an excellent analysis of the Brokeback debacle.

Crash n' Burn

I was in the middle of my morning crunches when The faineant solitudinarian called to update me on the Oscars… and Brokeback’s pathetic showing so far. I resumed my crunches, chanting, “Please let Brokeback win…. Please let Brokeback win…”.

Brokeback didn’t win, and I ended up with sore abs.

I’m glad the Academy finally gave Ang Lee the credit he deserves. He deserves much more.

Aditya says BBM is releasing in Mumbai on the 10th of this month….. yipeee! Yee haw!!

George Clooney… finally. Too bad for Jakey Poo.

Keep your eyes peeled on The faineant solitudinarian and Stuff happens for further post Oscar buzz.

Damn you, Crash. Damn you to hell.

It's almost here

The Oscars are almost upon us.

I'm so nervous.... I hope Brokeback wins. There may be some fear of me jumping out a window in case it doesn't. Oh well, if you can't change it, you gotta stand it.

Unfortunately, I will be unable to watch the Oscars live (no TV). I'm going to have a most restless night, that's for sure.

Fingers crossed for BBM.

Narnia: Rampant lions and Meen Varuval

Or rather, Narnia: Athisaya Ulagam, the Tamil version.

I really liked it. Considering I never really cared for the original story, I find it compelling. Having read the story as a child, but with little recollection, I recently reread The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Funny, how you miss some little things in the story. In the book, Aslan's Standard is described as a Rampant Lion. It's mentioned a few times, but I totally overlooked the significance of the word... till I saw it in the movie. It was a reference to Heraldry, but I totally missed it. Stupid of me, since I spent the summer of '98 learning Heraldry. Even the Coat of Arms of the school were I was at that time had a Rampant Lion. Surrounded by Heraldry everywhere on the school grounds, it was something that had me hooked. To demonstrate, here is an example shield generated by the Blazon software. In the jargon of Heraldry (called Blazon), this shield would be denoted by "Sable, a Rampant Lion Gules". Which, simply put, stands for, "A black field, and a red Rampant Lion".

Back to the film. After finally watching the English version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (I had seen Harry Potter: Mayita Koppiyam), I have begun to appreciate what a neat job the dubs are. In Narnia, the Tamil voices appear to have been chosen with care, to represent the original characters as closely as possible. Mrs. Macready has the voice and diction of a very sharp and strict Tamil matron. Peter's enunciation of Tamil is very clear, and reflects how the English Peter would have spoken Recieved Pronunciation, while the other children might still speak a form of Estuary English. But most interesting would have to be the tamil employed for the animals. The beavers speak like a middle aged couple, and the way Mrs. Beaver speaks, you half expect her to put out a tray of steaming filter coffee (besides the Meen Varuval). Maugrim the wolf speaks like a dastardly south Indian villian with a hearty belly laugh and a moustache to boot.

Frankenstein bags himself a new bride

Somewhere Someday, over the rainbow threshold....

Hot steamin' burnin' review

Toby: Did you know the Lord of the Rings is gay?

Bree: Beg your pardon?

Toby: There's this big black tower, right, and it points right at this huge burning vagina thing, and, like, its the symbol of ultimate evil...
and then Sam and Frodo have to go into this cave, and deposit their magic ring, into this hot streaming lava pit...
only at the last minute, Frodo can't perform, so Gollum bites off his finger. Gay.

That's from Transamerica.

Transamerica is the sort of movie I like: low budget; to satisfy my smug anti-capitalist ideals, just so long as it doesn't reflect in the movie's look, costumes, locations, props, cinematography, music.... and oh yes, acting.

I really enjoyed this film. Well, not the sort of enjoyment I might derieve from a Vin Diesel movie, spending an hour and a half looking for that new facial expression I heard hes got. Or watching Mallika Sherawat's clothes drop faster than Danish credibility in the Middle East.

Transamerica was most enjoyable. A delightfully offbeat story, and wonderfully understated performances. I don't mean understated like Sunny Deol's acting (which is trumped only by his wonderfully delicious dancing). Understated in the sense of good acting, but no screaming or major crying required. Honestly, how many performances like that are there?!

I give it two thumbs up. Way up.... and I have a silly grin on my face. I gotta see this one in the hall, just to see the reaction of the audience...

P.S: I was delighted to learn that Kevin Zegers, who plays Toby, was in one of my favourite episodes of The X-Files. He was a little boy who bears the Stigmata.

Plutonian pancakes

Many months back, When I was watching Batman Begins, I spent an awful lot of that time thinking Cillian Murphy was actually Winona Ryder in dude drag. Really really! I kid you not!

So, if you're like me, and been wondering what Cillian Murphy looks like in a wig and a dress, you should see Breakfast on Pluto.

It's a wonderfully quirky movie. Who knew Irish films could be like this?!

Something that did catch my eye (other than Ms. Murphy), was the music (OK, it caught my ear). The music is wonderfully upbeat, and not what I would have expected. There's a breeziness that intrigued me the entire movie.

Brief BBM update

It ain't right not to post something on the phenomena that Brokeback Mountain has become. Unfortunately, I haven't the time right now! If you can't change it, you got to stand it.

So till I do, here's something else to chew on: Brokeback has crossed $100 million in sales worldwide. The cost of making BBM was $14 million.

The shirts from the movie (yes, THOSE shirts...) were recently sold on ebay for a children's charity. The shirts went for $101,100.51.

Photo-op: Pissed off soldier

This soldier ant guards his colony of Weaver Ants from my prying eyes....

This colony is on a tree near my department, something I see everyday on my way to the tea shop. Can you believe the tea shop guy charges 2.5 bucks for a vada?!

The Bear, the Fairy, and the Closet

Apropos some recent comments over at the faineant solitudinarian, I bring you some wonderful news, and an insight straight from the horse's mouth.

Sir Ian McKellen received a Golden Bear lifetime achievement award at the Berlin Film Festival over the weekend and used the opportunity to talk about the challenges of being openly gay in Hollywood:

"It is very, very, very difficult for an American actor who wants a film career to be open about his sexuality. And even more difficult for a woman if she’s lesbian. It’s very distressing to me that that should be the case. It’s not true of actors on the other side of the American continent, on Broadway, where people are very at ease with being open and honest. But the film industry is very old fashioned in California. My own career in mainstream films really took off once I’d come out and said I was gay. And that’s the way it should be because Heath Ledger isn’t gay nor am I straight and yet I can play straight parts and he can successfully play gay men. It’ll fade away eventually.

I was warned by friends in the industry, particularly the American film industry, that my life was about to change. They knew I was going to be famous, seriously famous. Of course it’s always a part of an actor’s interest in his job that he might appeal to a very, very wide audience but in the theatre that can’t be the case. Those films have reached round the world. And that popularity has rubbed off on me. There is no country in the world I can safely be anonymous in.

I think to become extremely famous when you’re very young must be very daunting and very difficult to cope with and shouldn’t really be part of your life because you should be concentrating on the work and not on people’s reaction to your work."