I’m Still Alive
Although it feels like trying to do Nano this year is going to kill me. Or leave me a sleep deprived, burnt out mess. Either way, fun times! [/sarcasm]
On hindsight, I guess I shouldn’t have attempted to write a novel the month that I have high maintenance house guests. Who’re staying for the whole of November.
I looked up today and realised that it’s been a month since I’ve blogged. I’ve had the ‘Add new post’ page open in my browser for nearly a week now, and yet, no bloggage. So here follows the thoughts that’ve been running through my mind for some time now.
Krrish 3 and Satya 2 : Bollywood Antiheroes
The eponymous Satya could be an example of an antihero done spectacularly wrong, we’re clearly meant to root for him and his criminal activities, but as we see him go around killing hundreds of people, not once do we ever see any reason for the whole mess.
He’s mysterious enough about his past that we expect there to be a payoff at the end, surely, we think, Satya did all that he did for a valid reason? He didn’t. In the last fifteen minutes he shouts about how his criminal enterprise helps the common people being trodden under the feet of the rich and mighty, but we never actually see it happening.
I honestly think Satya was a paranoid schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur. It’s the only way the movie makes sense to me.
On the other side of the spectrum, Krissh 3 features cartoon-y supervillians and mutants. While I liked Vivek Oberoi’s hammy performance as main villain Kaal, I was disappointed by Kangna Ranaut’s character Kaya the Indian Version of Mystique. It was like watching a 70s movie.
When will Bollywood ever grow up enough to show us female villains who make decisions that are not based on their affection for a man?
The first time we meet the typical female Bollywood antihero, she’ll be working for the villain because she loves him/she was brought up by him/she’s loyal to him because he provides for her. And then she meets and clashes with the hero. If she’s meant to be redeemed in the end, she falls in love with the hero, and decides to help him because she loves him.
If she’s meant to realise her error too late, the last act of her life will be to help the hero somehow, and die while gasping out that he’s taught her a new way to live, and it’s too bad she didn’t meet him much before.
Everything the female anti hero does is based on her emotions for the villain, or the hero. She never has goals of her own, or an ambition beyond moving up the henchmen ladder.
It annoys me to see two dimensional, cardboard cutouts masquerading as women in movies. But I doubt it’ll change any time soon. As long as the peanut gallery has its seven songs-one item number, of course-six fights per movie, it’s happy and demands no more from its Bollywood directors.
The members of the 200 crore film club prove it.
[music| Nagada Sang Dhol Baje: Shreya Goshal]