Ye Jawaani Hai Deewani

 

Paulo Coelho said, “Only 3 things can change our lives: dreams, suffering and love.”

As may happen with the gifts of great proverbs, Ayan Mukherjee took the first and last of those three things, put them into a story together called “Yeh Jawani hain Deewani” and created an incredible marvel.

The story makes a dazzling start with Madhuri Dixit gracing the screen. For the first half, the amateur adventurer Naina (Deepika) joins the threesome team of Kabir (Ranbir), Avi (Aditya Roy Kapur), Aditi (Kalki) who keep the audiences rolling in laughter. There isn’t a single dull moment. As all great times come to an end for new beginnings, some love is lost, some stays in the heart. Even as teenagers who can go absolutely bonkers in love, both Aditi and Naina display a tremendous sense of emotional maturity in response to a love that’s lost and that is confessed only to self.

This is not even where the marvel begins. The marvel springs off in the second half where Ayan presents a scenario in the journey of life where the road forks into two: one that chases your dreams and the other that takes you to love. It is the rendition of this choice that makes Ayan the brilliant filmmaker he is. The life choices rendered from globetrotter Kabir and our desi, padhaku girl Naina is the prodigy of this film. I would go and watch it once again only to listen to their conviction of lifestyle choices and their own knowledge of who they are and what they want out of their lives.

Ranbir delivers his business as usual stellar performance. Deepika gushes godly gorgeousness throughout. She steals the limelight as far as I am concerned. Real life is their personal business but as far as reel life goes they share charismatic chemistry as an item.

Personally, it feels like Ayan made a DDLJ twenty years down the line. I am simply glad that they still make films like this and we have a director who gets it just right.

A must watch! 

* * * * *

Memories in March: Mourning of May

I write about this film today as a memoir of loss to one of the creative artists that I have known through two films, Memories in March and Choker Bali, Ritu Parno Ghosh.

I had wanted to write about it someday. It was probably the gorgeous musical score that accompanied the film. However, with some serious thought to the subject, I declare that this film is probably the first gay romantic relationship depicted in Indian cinema.

For once, there’s isn’t some psycho lesbian girl trying to plot against her ex lesbian lover (didn’t watch ‘girlfriend’ but I heard stories like that),  or KJo’s ‘kiss-and-tell-all’ gay bitch (in Bombay talkies) who kisses his boss’ husband and keeps announcing his sexual orientation at inappropriate, irrelevant places, or Madhur Bhandarkar’s makeup man (in Page 3) who is two-timing a friend by sucking her boyfriend's cock in her own apartment. Not that those things don’t happen, but personally they all appear very one-dimensional in portrayal. Of all the Indian gay films I have seen, I have liked this one and Fire. Both are feel good, humane, satan-free.  Most of the others are from producers, story tellers and directors who ate an insane amount of junk the previous night and crapped all the shit on 70 mm screens the next day morning.

'Memories in March' roots from a tragic, drunken accident of a copywriter, Siddharth Mishra, who has begun his professional career at an advertising agency in Calcutta. His death introduces his mother, Arati, to his life that she has failed to notice since Calcutta happened. The story twists and turns from loss to discovery of a love her son has left behind. Only this time, it’s not about a poorer girl who is impregnated with a xy chromosome that will push the Mishra kin into a next generation (which probably happens in most of the dramatic hindi films). But instead, it’s a male lover.

In spite of the initial disaster of loss and coming to terms with unflattering news of a son’s sexual orientation, what I loved about this film is how seamlessly it navigates through the ocean of simplicity. Crystal clear human sensibilities of a confession that leads to mother’s denial, anger, then allegations against the lover and to the concluding realization that it’s only about loving another human being.

The story unfolds a relationship between a mother and probable-son-in-law where they get to know one another through their impeccable taste of saris cemented together in a common loss. Once the blame game is over and they see through each other for who they are, they revel in the joy of being themselves. They appreciate their commonalities and pickled affections. The film reveals a different kind of love story that Hindi cinema hasn’t seen before. It introduces a new concept where a mother can befriend a son's boyfriend.

It’s no guessing game that Ornob, played by Ritu Parno Ghosh, is gay. He wears his sexuality on his sleeve, rather effortlessly. May be its the polite demeanor or the feminine (not anatomical) exterior. If you didn’t get it, let’s just say, you are blind. 

However with this film, I think, Sanjoy Nag decided give a very open ended dimension to what a ‘gay’ man actually encompasses. So he took a faceless Siddharth Mishra who is a caring son, devoted professional, fantastic friend, has a butch voice and a male lover, is drooled over by girls, and told the world, “Fill in the face with a colleague, son, friend, family member, basket ball player… and there is your gay man.”

If you are missing Ritu Parno Ghosh today, this is a good film to watch! Also, don’t miss the background score.

RIP.