Twenty Onwards Media

Planet Terror - the Ultimate Peeda-Hari Balm

Nothing could comfort my aching pain. It was 32 degrees in my room and I was sweating like a pig in the bitchy Delhi summer. While sitting on my bed and massaging my swollen ankles I was cursing Delhi on one hand and my boy friend on the other. The temperature and my pain were climbing the mercury level at the same speed. It was 12:55 at night and I landed up on Star Movies. And I forgot my pain for the next one and half hours.

 

The tacky, tad and B-grade look of the movie enticed me enough to convince me that there would be enough stuff to laugh at and look at (I personally found Dakota hotter than Cherry Darling).

 

Planet of Terror­ is a film version of a video game where you gotta kill as many zombies as you can. You score a foul if the zombie-puss falls on you or if you get in touch with the green gas, which is the main cause of this Zombie-demic.

 

There is this psycho bio-chemical engineer who amputates balls for his personal correction, played with ‘utmost proficiency’ by Navin Andrews (of Bride and Prejudice infamy). His deal with another psycho – military commander Bruce Willis (he shot Bin Laden twice in his illustrious career) falls apart and he accidentally releases the deadly gas which turned the people of the town into zombies.

 

There is Fergie playing the lesbian lover of Dakota. Dakota is the troubled, neglected wife of psycho surgeon Dr. Block (Josh Brolin) who is planning to run away with her lover. And then there are Go-go dancer Cherry darling (Rose Mc Gowan) and her ex-flame El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez) who are the actual heroes. The former is machine gun legged and the latter ‘never misses’ whatever shot he takes.

 

So, there is plenty of fun actually – puss oozing out of a semi-zombie and splashed on Brolin’s face, Navin Andrews frantically collecting the balls and stuffing in his pockets, Cherry Darling flying like Superman and spraying bullets, Dakota with no feeling in her hands (thanks to the anesthetic injections) trying to open a car door and driving it. The reveling moment is when JT (the bone shack owner) finds the concoction of zombie puss and his own blood as the perfect sauce for his eateries. Mmmmm ….. Yummy!!!

 

The film ends like Terminator, with El Wray dying and Cherry Darling donning the cap of the savior of the survivors. It was a pain-killing experience which numbed my sensations till the end credits.     

 

 

The Pursuit Of Happiness

I’m a person of small tiny wants. All I want is to be happy now because nothing around me has made me feel great about myself. I mean I have never participated in a counterculture movement, got high and felt like a part of something larger and important. Angelina Jolie is hugging people and Oprah Winfrey is giving away homes and cars but that’s all happening miles and miles away. There are no freedom struggles so how do I test my perseverance? Dieting? I seriously think money could be the answer to everything. I think that money can buy all the happiness in the world. Paydays are great. It’s great to have an AC car and a family that feeds you so you don’t have to worry about global warming or recession. If somebody buys me a nice handbag or a replacement for Elliot in Season 9, Scrubs or just another EPL cup for Man U, I’m sure I’d be pretty happy for a while.

 

But there was this economics teacher who used to love holding boys from the waist, to pull up their pants she’d say. She taught us that humans are never satisfied. She’d say a) our wants are unlimited and b) the resources are limited. Even the production of those self-help books about making easy money has stopped. So HOW can one feel happy in this city with malls and a stupid electric car, a new Chetan Bhagat novel and stupid breaking news of national concern for a total of two days? They say the belly rules the mind. I like the proverb guys who came up with that one. Come to think of, if I had a Make Me Happy Foundation, food would top my list. Momos, soufflés, Ching’s chilly sauce (bowlful), wai wai, chops, pasta, cheesecake, tuna, chips… (Aah! Food! Absolutely nothing matches or substitutes it!) … Waffles, katy perry boobies, doughnuts, brownies, Marc Jacob bags, bread tikki, Thai curry, money. Hm... Forget it. Food's no match for the real thing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Collector's Item

No one can deny the charm of the good old hand-painted movie posters. Despite the sleek and polished effects of Adobe (or whatever software the designers use) on the latest movie posters, the appeal of the hand-painted movie posters is still there. Bright and vibrant colors, imperfect proportions of the features, imbalanced moustaches and gawky postured heroines all add up to this unavoidable charm of this genre of art. These kind of posters undoubtedly have a more rustic and desi feel about them. Especially the posters during the 50’s and 60’s were the best of their kinds.

 

But I’m not here to write about their artistic evaluation as much has been written about this already. Many have also argued that there is nothing creative about them. I don’t want to get into this debate and would rather talk about my way of perceiving this form of visual art. The 50s boasts of numerous classics like Pyaasa,Kagaaz ke Phool,Awara and Shri 420. And, whenever I recall the names of these movies I inevitably end up conjuring up an image of their posters. To me these posters are an intrinsic part of these movies’ identity.  

 

Many consider it to be cheap and meant for the lower masses of the audience. I consider it to be refreshing than the maneuvered look of the present day movie posters. The old school posters involved the painter’s artistic implementation of the feel and look of the movie. In spite of their criticism of being low-class, they are rare classics these days. They are actually fun to look at.

......

Ok, I'll cut the crap now.

Actually I brewed up this whole above-written s***, just because I wanted to write about these inanely intense old movie posters from

Pakistan

. Yes, they have no relation as such with art. They are raw in their execution, are loud in their appearance and just give us some more reasons to make fun of our good ol’ neighbor. Have fun.        

Below is the poster of  the movie Dharti Sheran Di. This movie featured one of Pakistan's greatest movie stars, Sultan Rahi. He also happens to feature in Maula Jatt which according to many Pakistanis is the greatest action movie ever produced in Pakistan.

       

 

 

For the information of the larger mass, this is the poster of Jane Bond 009.  

Maula Jatt - An Unforgettable Experience

I could not understand a single word of those chaste Punjabi dialogues.  But still I was completely knocked out by what I saw in bits and pieces of this action-packed Lollywood masala movie. Khuda Ke Liye may have given an identity to Pakistani movies, but the experience would be incomplete if you don't watch Maula Jatt. You think I'm exaggerating, huh? Then check out the movie in Youtube where an ardent fan has uploaded the movie for the non-believers.

As I would not like to divulge much about the movie, I will simply say that it's a classic tale of love, romance, revenge and the victory of good over the evil ... Go watch the movie online and thank me later...

You still there??? Ok, let me entice you a li'l more. Maula Jatt is this village guy, who is basically the Jatt version of Superman. He performs all these stunts with his weapon which is called gandaasa. Now, don't ask me what is a gandaasa actually. As per my observation it's a magnified version of axe. And, there is Noorie Nutt (it's spelt Nath somewhere), the baddie who is always at the look out for raping someone and this leads to his clash with Maula Jatt.

So, there are lot of blood, ripped off limbs flying in the air and bits of human intestines dangling from Maula's gandaasa. The film has it's touching moments, when Maula appears from nowhere everytime his Bharjai is in need of some sort of help. And for you perverts out there, there is even an item number by Daro Nathni (one of the lust interests of Noorie Nutt), when Maula beats the hell out of the villain who chased her on a horse throughout the village for nearly 10 mins of screen time.

Have look at this iconic poster of the movie:

The Golden Kela Awards - for the ripest tripe in Indian Cinema

Film lovers are going to see an awards show, which is altogether different from what they are used to see generally. RANDOM Magazine and the Sundaas Film Institute are organizing the first ever Golden Kela Awards (www.goldenkela.in) in Delhi, on 7th of March, 2009, at the India Habitat Centre. Golden Kela stands out because of its bizarre theme of celebrating the worst of Indian cinema. The event has proper categories like any other awards show, the only difference is instead of awarding the best performances, we award the worst ones.

Aishwarya Rai and Mallika Sherawat , both have been nominated for their acting excellence in the year 2008. And, Himesh Reshammiya has a well-deserved nomination in the Worst Actor's category.

The Golden Kela Awards are inspired by the Golden Raspberries or the Razzies of America. The nominations have been decided by the Magazine's board and the winners are going to be selected on the basis of an online poll. So, far we have received tremendous response through public voting and extensive media coverage.

Links to news stories:

Hindustan Times

Buzz 18

Mid Day

If you want to do your bit, log on to http://www.goldenkela.in/ and vote.

Mr. Jaspal Bhatti is the Chief Guest of Honor and he'll be awarded with the Life Time Achievement Award. 

Worst Actor (Male) :

Himesh Reshammiya - Karzzzz
(Monty is back! After 28 years! And he's fatter, cheaper and has weird hair! Not to mention the horrible music. Clip: Kya saboot hai tumhare paas ki tumne Ravi Varma ka khoon nahi kiya?
Hrithik Roshan - Jodhaa Akbar ( Akbar was'nt a tall, green-eyed six-packed handsome mimbo. He was short and stocky and most definitely could speak Urdu with the proper accent.)
Emraan Hashmi - Jannat (Monkey see, monkey do, monkey kiss, monkey plays bookie, monkey still remains a monkey.)
Salman Khan - Yuvvraj (Seriously Sallu bhai, why are you stuck in your ooh, aah and aooon brand of acting when you can choose to do nothing at all like Arjun Rampal or Rahul Bose? Much less work for the same results.)
Rahul Bose - Shaurya (For giving a total of two expressions for the entire duration of a high drama film)

Worst Actor (Female) :

Priyanka Chopra - Dostana, Love Story 2050
(C'mon Piggy...are you even trying? Are you trying to do something other than taking off a lot of your clothes?
Aishwarya Rai Bachchan - Jodha Akbar (For turning a strong Rajput princess (of dubious veracity) into one of Ekta Kapoor's heroines)
Kareena Kapoor - Tashan, Golmaal Returns (For being as cheap loud and obnoxious...)
Katrina Kaif - Yuvvraj (Oh what a pretty face! Oh what a pretty smile! Oh what a pretty girl! Unfortunately, acting is not skin deep)
Mallika Sherawat - Ugly aur Pagli (I wont waste precious space by saying anything about this performance!)

Just when you thought it was all about serious stuff ...

Just when you thought that daily soaps were the greatest levelers, making your mother, wife, mother-in-law and your girlfriend for an hour or so to discuss the virtues of Tulsi-Parvati or to speculate the results of the current reality shows, there’s something brewing inside the TV itself to challenge the title. Yes, I know it all seemed like a miracle to you and your neighbor and fellow countrymen giving rise to this myth. But a closer look will prove the invalidity of your belief. Like any disbeliever (infidel!!!) you will loath my arguments. But if you are a TV-buff, then you would give me a patient hearing.  

See, I won’t go into analyzing the merits of daily soap. There’s no point. Rather I would talk about the thing I want to talk about. Most of us have been lectured by our parents to watch news regularly. I don’t know about you, but I certainly watched other stuff more than news. Come on, back then movies and FTV were more interesting than news. But the present-day news channels are proving our parents right. F**k comedy shows, news channels rock these days.

The seeds of revolution were planted when Aajtak was conceived by some wise old men (and women may be … I’m not too sure). Since, that time it has provided us with our rightful supply of ‘infotainment’. Starting from the plight of a cat stuck in the roof, they went that extra mile to report about the missing dog of the Commissioner. I guess many of you still remember the ticker ‘Commissioner ka kutta mila’ on your TV screen. 

 

 

This is not the end of it as legacy is not created at the snap of a finger like you thought. Remember Muhnochwa? In case you don’t, I’m sorry I can’t help as there are no videos available on youtube to support my claim. Better ask your pados ke Uncle ji or your TV-addict know-it-all friend who cares about anything and everything going in the TV. Not only this, it catapulted the channel to nation-wide fame and gave India her journalistic icon in the name of Deepak Chaurasia. Who can forget his reporting of Pramod Mahajan’s murder? He went on describing his ‘closeness’ with the family and denied that there was any brother by the name of Praveen. His quote, ‘He seems to be a cousin of Pramod.’

There was no one challenging the popularity and credentials of Aajtak, till India TV showed up in the field. And, I must say, what inspiration they have taken from the veterans of the small-screen .... (to be contd.)  

 

Love Thy Neighbor??? No way!!!

My parents have tried hard to instill some qualities in me. They laid down certain basic principles for both me and my brother to follow. It's a different fact that they gave up after a certain point of time given to my forgetful nature and my head-strong brother. What struck me was the hitting absence of this principle - Be friendly with your neighbor and maintain a cordial relation with them. In big cities I can understand that it's not easy to even be in touch with your friends and relatives, forget the neighbors. But even in a small town like ours we were very much out of touch with our neighbors, except a few. It was mostly because of my father, who is extremely selective about the kind of people he would be in touch with. So, it used to be like this - our neighbors used to call on my father (he is a doctor) in times of need with a sheepish grin on their face. And my father would surely help them, but with a furrowed brow. In times of an occasion they would invite us, and my father would certainly not go and send my mom to do the formalities. As kids we were spared of this headache of thinking about neighbors.

After a year-long stay in Delhi I have understood the significance of having a neighbor. Actually your needs and comforts depend on them at times. Initially when I moved in it was all fun, as my neighbors were my seniors from university. It was all fun with all of us having late night discussions, watching movies, having dinner together. They were more of housemates than neighbors.

But things drastically changed after they moved out. In came a couple whose existence have become a burden on my stay at home. Now, I respect other people's space and privacy (I'm not conservative in this regard as per my revered colleagues). But WTF am I supposed to do when they can't keep their things under control???

Bakhtawar Bhutto's Rap Song

The term 'star-kid' is nothing unknown to us. Especially in India where we can see an entire brigade of them in film industry, politics, and some little known ones in music, business and sports. Somehow they get a natural and automatic entry into their father's or forefather's field of 'excellence'. If we look at Ranbir Kapoor, we'll see that ... there is actually nothing to look out for in him. Likewise, it is very difficult to comment on Anoushka Shankar's musical genius. Well, she does appear now and then in the page 3 of newspapers, tugging along her effeminate boyfriend and obviously not playing guitar sitar in the party circle. Not to mention that she looks more of a drag queen than an actual woman, but its entirely MY OPINION. Her contemporaries' are equally illustrious - most notable of them are the 'Bangash' brothers. Now, they are quite famous for their charm (read flirting). The elder one was more in the news because of his break-up with Avantika Haskar than for his music. So, a couple of years back they were at the verge of setting a trend of writing memoirs of their famous parents. Of them only Shankar's book 'Bapi, The Love Of My Life' somehow managed to make news.

Similarly in politics ... and I guess it's more evident in politics. The Gandhi legacy had always been there and possibly will be there in future. Sachin Pilot, Jyotiraditya Scindhia, Omar Abdullah all have strong political connection backing their career. And in a way they are setting a trend, which is a good sign, considering the boring, old look of Indian politics.

However, the thing that caught my attention (and of many others as well) is the recently out rap song by Bakhtawar Bhutto, in memory of her mother, Benazir Bhutto. You can watch the video on youtube (do ignore other search results like 'Benazir ki MOTI BETI' and stuff like that) easily. We all know how hard it is to document the achievements of the Late Bhutto considering the charges of coruption against her and Asif Ali Zardari. But one can't deny her intelligence and charisma. Bakhtawar's rap revolves around these obvious facts only. With due respect to her loss, her song comes across as an average one for its juvenile lyrics. There is a constant buzzing all throughout the video and the lyrics are scrolling at the bottom of the screen like a karaoke system. The visuals are nothing but snaps of Benazir and screen shots of her public appearances. The song at times makes you feel as if she's in a desperation to read-out the lyrics without caring for the rhythm and the beats. Though Bakhtawar will get some appreciation for being Benazir's daughter, let's just hope that this doesn't sparks off another tormentous trend of singing political rap songs in memory of the dear departed ones.

     

I'm Very Very Sorry!!!

'Sorry' ... I think it's one of the most widely-used words in the English vocabulary. We step on someone's feet, we say 'Sorry'. We bump into someone in a busy road, we say, 'Sorry'. 'Sorry' is everywhere like the invisible germs in the air. You never know when you're going to say this word and to whom. Like a silent assassin it waits for you patiently in some dark alleys of time to jump on a defenseless you.

Apology is the name of the feeling associated with 'Sorry'. Hundreds of years ago Shakespeare wrote 'Quality of Mercy' much to the fortune of the literary world (and to a great annoyance of mine, as it was in my course in school). Though I'm not much of a fan of poems, I liked the inherent message of the poem - that this quality blesses both the guilty one and the one who forgives. But these anyone hardly cares for the strong emotions behind this word. We use this now and then, like napkins.

It's high time that we realize the importance of this. We should say 'Sorry' and we should mean it.

 

Love thy sexy friend ...

Friends - Love - Sex ... hmmm ... Sex - Friend - Love, well, I'm not really sure about the order as to which comes first and so on. But you can't deny the basic need of these three elements in your life. We make friends, chances are that that we fall in love with any of them, and eventually have sex with them. Or you can have sex with someone and then may become friends or lovers in due course of time (if you continue that acquaintance). So, in a way these three things are inter-related. Relationship experts say, that in this age of global-shortage-time it is strictly advisable that you allot a definite of time for particular person or activities. And this effectively ensures the running of your matters. Well ... there are certain feelings associated with the specific time allotted for a specific person. But do we really spare some time to think about these felings and their inter-relationship? Ok ... when was the time you felt kinky? Do you know why you felt so? Find out here: