The Vuvuzelas have fallen silent, and their swarming buzz has finally stopped. The gigantic stadiums stand lonely and the lush green meadows are waiting for “cricket” to take over. (Pun intended). The Bafana boys have disappeared, the carnival and the fireworks are over, but thankfully Shakira’s Waka Waka remains immortal. Just couple of weeks ago, the world closely followed the bizarre trajectory of the lightweight Jabulani and life moved with it.
Goldman Sacs predictions for semi-finalist contenders have been proved wrong barring Spain. In hindsight, guess they should have trusted animal instincts and consulted Oracle Paul- the Octopus rather than rely on analysts, economists and investment bankers!
As it became clear that Spain a.k.a La Furia Roja (The Red Furry) would face the Netherlands (Oranje) in the Finals, I referred back to Jawaharlal Nehru’s iconic book ‘Glimpses of World History’. The book presents glorious and riveting history of world including that connects Spain and Netherlands.
Netherlands, the very name suggests that it is a low land and many parts are below sea - level. In the 16th century, the Netherlands which included both Holland and Belgium became part of the vast empire ruled by Spain's King Philip II. Spain was a mighty Power, in the full pride of her greatness; the Netherlands were just a few provinces of merchant folks, sailors and extravagant nobles. There was no comparison between the two. Yet Spain found it difficult to crush them.
The Eighty Years War, or Dutch War of Independence, (1568–1648) began as a revolt of the Seventeen Provinces against Philip II of Spain, the overlord of the Habsburg Netherlands and it engulfed whole of Europe.
When many Dutch joined the Reformation and became Protestant, the aggressively Catholic Spanish crown tried to put them down, executing hundreds as heretics and imposing the inquisition on the rebellious population. The Spanish also used tax revenues from the wealthy Dutch provinces to finance its religious wars elsewhere. There were massacres repeatedly with whole population exterminated.
Like Scotland which managed to gain its independence under the leadership of a Brave heart - Sir William Wallace, Netherlands had their own ‘William’ of Orange, and established the republic of the Seven United Netherlands. No wonder the Dutch soccer team vociferously sang their national anthem, "Het Wilhelmus" which talks about this war and describes the atrocities committed by Spanish.
All this of course was long, long ago and yet it seems, the consequences of these historical events could have played on the minds of the Dutch players during the finals.
It was clearly not the best of the finals, with as many as 13 bookings enacted by English referee Howard Webb. While the Dutch were the main culprits with 9 cards, including defender John Heitinga earning a double yellow and being sent off in the Extra-Time., the Spanish also earned 4 yellow cards.
“YO SOY ESPANOL, ESPANOL, ESPANOL…” The Spanish World Cup win also tells a compelling tale about nationalism. In a country where the provinces of Catalonia and the Basque country, each with its own language and heritage strive for even greater autonomy from the central government in Madrid, soccer has long been an arena for symbolic politics. The vicious rivalry between Barca and Real Madrid derives in large part from the fact that support for Barcelona team was one of the few means that Catalans had during the 40 years of Franco’s dictatorship to express their regional identify. Many Catalans, who dream of one day fielding their own team at the World Cup, have been loath to support any team bearing the name of Spain.
But this year was different. The national team included seven Barca members and, by promoting itself as La Furia Roja, garnered a broader embrace than it normally might have. The Spanish also had the best team work cleverly guided by the philosophy of “Tiqui Taka” or “Pass and Move”. Iniesta latched on to Fabregas' pass to smash home a goal to break Holland's hearts. The Spanish scored lesser goals and also committed lesser fouls, in the process winning the Fair Play award. David Villa along with Sneijder, Mueller and Forlan finished as joint top-scorer of the tournament.
Instead of playing Total Football, the Dutch in contrast played an ugly game. Players like Nigel De Jong and Von Bommel were involved in rough tackles; Robin van Persie stood aloof, whilst Wesley Sneijder and Arjen Robben blossomed in the tournament.
Apart from the finals, there were umpteen dramatic highs and crushing lows during the tournament.
Lionel Messi’s artistry mesmerized, his stop -and -go moves coupled with his left foot strikes enthralled millions. Meanwhile on the sidelines, ‘El – Diego’ stood forlorned, scratched his beard, attacked Pele, violently kicked the Jabulani and consistently attracted media attention. But it was another Latino, Diego – ‘Forlan’, from Uruguay who shined and won the FIFA official award.
"Os ingleses o inventaram, os brasileiros o aperfeiçoaram" which translates as "The English invented it, the Brazilians perfected it". Unfortunately Brazil and its Selecao failed to generate the Samba rhythm. Kaka tried, Maicon strived, Elano and Fabiano shined but Robinho was more obsessed with individual glory. Under Dunga’s coaching and with Lucio and Gilberto Silva shoring up defense, Brazil locked away their traditional attacking style.
The "Nike curse" took hold and cashed-up football stars failed to shine at the World Cup. Big names like Cristiano Ronaldo, Didier Drogba, Thierry Henry, Wayne Rooney, Franck Ribery, Samuel Eto’o, Gerard and Lampard failed miserably. The referees and Luis Suarez were the tournament's biggest villains while Ghana's Asamoah Gyan, Mexico’s Javier Hernandez, Landon Donovan from US, along with Germany’s - Klose, Schweinsteiger, Ozil, Mueller and Podolski emerged as genuine stars on the world stage. With vibrant multi-cultural approach, Germany displayed their supremacy and skills by having players of various descent: Tunisian, Turkish, Ghanaian, Brazilian, Polish, and Spanish. Japan and South Korea were impressive and carried the Asian hopes high.
The World Cup conveyed a strong message to those who were stubborn. Perhaps there is a business lesson for all of us. Those who refused to budge even slightly tweak game -plans and are unwilling to modify, adapt and or change suffered losses. No wonder, the English under their Italian manager, Fabio Cappello failed to reach the quarter finals.
Terms like Vuvuzela, Jabulani and Zakumi have become popular lexicons in all languages and FIFA must quickly learn from ICC and other sports and adapt technology.
A Ball and 22 bodies running behind it is just a mirage….when the ball rolls in World Cup, the entire world runs behind it, eyes riveting towards the goal mouth. ‘Jogo Bonito’ or the Beautiful Game may be a Brazilian axiom, but its connotations are global in nature today, as it creates new meanings and adages and unites the world. As Spain joined the club of World Cup winners, the game has once again turned to be winner. The reverberations and echoes are still alive of the past one month in its entirety. Life has returned to being normal; the World has turned from ‘Round’ to ‘Flat’. But somewhere, deep down in the heart, there is emptiness and there is a lump in the throat. Already, the wait has started for Brazil 2014.
Until then, as they say in Spain - Muchas Gracias or Many Thanks - FIFA, South Africa and ESPN and Viva Espania …for the Golden memories!!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Poetry in Motion !!!
Few minutes into Novy’s radio commentary and I was already running down the memory lane, dribbling as fast as I could, through days… years… decades… till I reached the magnificent Shastri Nagar play ground…a ground which helped me learn that “Sports builds character”.
I stood on the ground; my small hands playfully caressing the magic wand ….I slowly bend down, started running and hopping as fast as I could…. The magic wand at 45 degrees, woven with beautiful navy blue strip, the hockey stick ruthlessly began combing the lush grass in zigzag manner.
It majestically rotated with speed in clockwise and anticlockwise direction, the ball sometimes bouncing on the rough terrain, gliding gently down the slopes, and yet within my reach …..I quickly dribbled one opponent, gazed around and looked for Sunil in the left flank, who wouldn’t miss a single opportunity to emulate the magic of Zafar Iqbal and hit a GOOOAAAALLLL!!!...
I jumped with joy and for a fleeting moment imagined myself transported in an era when Indian hockey symbolized poetry in motion.
Circa 1979
Mellivel D’mello and Jasdev Singh’s suave voice blared from the transistor. “Indian skipper Surjit Singh with the ball. Surjit passes the ball to the magician, Zafar Iqbal”, the best left out India has ever produced.
“Zafar Iqbal moves from left flank, like a cheetah, dribbles, and makes a short cross pass to Indian center forward Mohammad Shahid. Shahid jumps away from Tahir, the Pakistani forward and moves forward with the ball.”
In early 80’s Zafar Iqbal and Mohammad Shahid formed a deadly combination which no defenders in the world could stop. Pakistan had the great Hasan Sardar, Tahir Zaman and Shahbaz Ahmed.
Mellivel continues “Meanwhile the Pakistani sensation Shahbaz Ahmed attempts to tackle Mohd Shahid. Shahid avoids another rough tackle. Shahid still in possession of the ball moves rapidly and makes a quick diagonal pass to Zafar. Zafar meanwhile has rushed from his position and is standing on the edge of the D.”
“Zafar stops the short pass from Shahid, turns, dribbles two more opponents and cross passes to Shahid. Shahid pulls the ball and runs towards the unmarked left flank. Shahid zigzags into the corner, beats one opponent and turns. The ball is still glued to the stick. Shahid uses his wrist and gently scoops over the Pakistani defender. The ball moves from left to right, parallel to the goal post.”
Meanwhile Mellivel screams, “Zafar moves onto his right, quickly intercepts, and is in the center, almost near the 10 meter mark. The Pakistani goal keeper sees Zafar, rushes and lunges forward to stop Zafar. The goal keeper falls down.”
“Zafar quickly traps the ball and cleverly deflects to the right of the goal keeper. Zafar quickly leaps over the fallen goal keeper and even before the keeper gets up and turns behind…. Zafar pulls it sideways on the left and …a reverse flick and BANG …GOOOAAALLLLL….. A MAJESTIC GOAALLLL !!!…Zafar has done it again for India…”
Alas, it’s been ages since we have witnessed such magnificent wizardry from any Indian hockey team. The last time we saw such display was from Pargat Singh in 1985.
India was down 5-1 to Germany in Australia. There were still 15 minutes left to close of play. Somewhere in Melbourne, the Cricket Champions trophy was being played at the same time which had Shastri winning a shining Audi. Meanwhile on the hockey field, Pargat was single handedly changing the course of game. At the end of the game, the scores read Germany 5, India 5. Despite this win India stood sixth…
As Indians, we love and glorify individual brilliance more than team sports. No wonder we enjoy the exploits of individual cricketers, boxers, tennis players and blatantly denounce hockey, soccer, volleyball and even Kabbadi. Over the years, there have been some remarkable performances and individual brilliance from Dhanraj, Dileep Tirkey, and Prabhjot but on the whole, India has struggled since 1984 in our national game!
The problem with our hockey is that our players do manage to leave the crowd spellbound. The pace, precision and finesse often touch our emotional chords. But the end game, for all the nerve wracking moments, has unfortunately been defeat.
To add to our woes, our hockey is bereft of professional administrators and remains deprived of good infrastructure, sponsorship, dexterity, and glamour and supply chain. A small village in Punjab called Sansarpur and hockey are inseparable, if not synonymous. Remember the outstanding and talented forward Baljit Dhillon from Sansarpur, who along with the media savvy Dhanraj Pillai recreated the magic of Zafar and Shahid.
Unlike cricket, Hockey’s players hail from remote societies and are a motley collection of minorities: the Sikhs, the Muslims from Uttar Pradesh, the Coorgis, the Catholic boys from Orlem ( Malad) and Bandra, the tribals of Jharkhand and Orissa, the Manipuris, and, previously, Anglo-Indians.
Perhaps S.Thayagirajan inarguably the best known hockey scribe of India sums up well, “Competitive hockey is not about how well you play but how tactically you play for a decisive result.”
Isn’t it true? For those who watched the final last month, it must have been a revelation as to what modern hockey is all about. Forget those grass fields, pretty skills and supple wrists that Indians and Pakistanis were once known for and the attributes that had helped them rule the hockey kingdom in the distant past. Rather, today, it is all about astro -turf, fitness, speed and power besides tactical acumen of the players who can execute the plans on the pitch.
Come to think of, Indian hockey authorities would be kicking themselves for not hiring Ric Charlesworth, the legendary Aussie former captain and champion coach back in 2008 when he had offered to train the National side. Rather, Charlesworth was humiliated before he became a victim to vicious whispering campaign. Australia won the 2010 world championship defeating Germany, and don’t be surprised if Ric Charlesworth is still having the last laugh!
Perhaps one of the best ways to revive hockey is by creating interest among kids. About time parents gift young kids with hockey stick instead of only a cricket bat. So what if they play on road or on clay. At least we might be able to create some spectators if not make them a player. Unless there is a conscious effort from administrators to empower foreign coaches, tap talent at grass root level, start clubs in colonies, and explore avenues for sponsorship and entertainment, hockey will not survive. No wonder, Aslam Sher Khan’s autobiography titled “To Hell with Hockey” - continues to reverberate on Indian hockey lover’s lips.
“GOOOAAALLLLL, Well done Rajpal, India has equalized”….. Novy Kapadia’s sonorous voice kept blaring loudly in the car. That evening our Indian hockey team was playing against England, and invariably trying hard to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. By the time I reached home, India had lost …3-2 to England…. and I had lost my appetite.
Its strange but true….A world cup loss in T20 might fail to generate tears but a hockey match has the ability to choke and bring out the tears. In those 70 minutes, it generates tremendous patriotic fervor, and allows you to selflessly immerse in the experience, energy, enthusiasm and the excitement of the players and crowd.
Today the hockey stick has become a metaphor and with age perhaps replaced with an expensive golf club!…But the hands still yearns to grip the wooden magic wand….
Hopefully.. one day.. some day… like in Cricket, we will be able to find some Tendulkar and Lalit Modi who will be able to revive Indian Hockey!.
I stood on the ground; my small hands playfully caressing the magic wand ….I slowly bend down, started running and hopping as fast as I could…. The magic wand at 45 degrees, woven with beautiful navy blue strip, the hockey stick ruthlessly began combing the lush grass in zigzag manner.
It majestically rotated with speed in clockwise and anticlockwise direction, the ball sometimes bouncing on the rough terrain, gliding gently down the slopes, and yet within my reach …..I quickly dribbled one opponent, gazed around and looked for Sunil in the left flank, who wouldn’t miss a single opportunity to emulate the magic of Zafar Iqbal and hit a GOOOAAAALLLL!!!...
I jumped with joy and for a fleeting moment imagined myself transported in an era when Indian hockey symbolized poetry in motion.
Circa 1979
Mellivel D’mello and Jasdev Singh’s suave voice blared from the transistor. “Indian skipper Surjit Singh with the ball. Surjit passes the ball to the magician, Zafar Iqbal”, the best left out India has ever produced.
“Zafar Iqbal moves from left flank, like a cheetah, dribbles, and makes a short cross pass to Indian center forward Mohammad Shahid. Shahid jumps away from Tahir, the Pakistani forward and moves forward with the ball.”
In early 80’s Zafar Iqbal and Mohammad Shahid formed a deadly combination which no defenders in the world could stop. Pakistan had the great Hasan Sardar, Tahir Zaman and Shahbaz Ahmed.
Mellivel continues “Meanwhile the Pakistani sensation Shahbaz Ahmed attempts to tackle Mohd Shahid. Shahid avoids another rough tackle. Shahid still in possession of the ball moves rapidly and makes a quick diagonal pass to Zafar. Zafar meanwhile has rushed from his position and is standing on the edge of the D.”
“Zafar stops the short pass from Shahid, turns, dribbles two more opponents and cross passes to Shahid. Shahid pulls the ball and runs towards the unmarked left flank. Shahid zigzags into the corner, beats one opponent and turns. The ball is still glued to the stick. Shahid uses his wrist and gently scoops over the Pakistani defender. The ball moves from left to right, parallel to the goal post.”
Meanwhile Mellivel screams, “Zafar moves onto his right, quickly intercepts, and is in the center, almost near the 10 meter mark. The Pakistani goal keeper sees Zafar, rushes and lunges forward to stop Zafar. The goal keeper falls down.”
“Zafar quickly traps the ball and cleverly deflects to the right of the goal keeper. Zafar quickly leaps over the fallen goal keeper and even before the keeper gets up and turns behind…. Zafar pulls it sideways on the left and …a reverse flick and BANG …GOOOAAALLLLL….. A MAJESTIC GOAALLLL !!!…Zafar has done it again for India…”
Alas, it’s been ages since we have witnessed such magnificent wizardry from any Indian hockey team. The last time we saw such display was from Pargat Singh in 1985.
India was down 5-1 to Germany in Australia. There were still 15 minutes left to close of play. Somewhere in Melbourne, the Cricket Champions trophy was being played at the same time which had Shastri winning a shining Audi. Meanwhile on the hockey field, Pargat was single handedly changing the course of game. At the end of the game, the scores read Germany 5, India 5. Despite this win India stood sixth…
As Indians, we love and glorify individual brilliance more than team sports. No wonder we enjoy the exploits of individual cricketers, boxers, tennis players and blatantly denounce hockey, soccer, volleyball and even Kabbadi. Over the years, there have been some remarkable performances and individual brilliance from Dhanraj, Dileep Tirkey, and Prabhjot but on the whole, India has struggled since 1984 in our national game!
The problem with our hockey is that our players do manage to leave the crowd spellbound. The pace, precision and finesse often touch our emotional chords. But the end game, for all the nerve wracking moments, has unfortunately been defeat.
To add to our woes, our hockey is bereft of professional administrators and remains deprived of good infrastructure, sponsorship, dexterity, and glamour and supply chain. A small village in Punjab called Sansarpur and hockey are inseparable, if not synonymous. Remember the outstanding and talented forward Baljit Dhillon from Sansarpur, who along with the media savvy Dhanraj Pillai recreated the magic of Zafar and Shahid.
Unlike cricket, Hockey’s players hail from remote societies and are a motley collection of minorities: the Sikhs, the Muslims from Uttar Pradesh, the Coorgis, the Catholic boys from Orlem ( Malad) and Bandra, the tribals of Jharkhand and Orissa, the Manipuris, and, previously, Anglo-Indians.
Perhaps S.Thayagirajan inarguably the best known hockey scribe of India sums up well, “Competitive hockey is not about how well you play but how tactically you play for a decisive result.”
Isn’t it true? For those who watched the final last month, it must have been a revelation as to what modern hockey is all about. Forget those grass fields, pretty skills and supple wrists that Indians and Pakistanis were once known for and the attributes that had helped them rule the hockey kingdom in the distant past. Rather, today, it is all about astro -turf, fitness, speed and power besides tactical acumen of the players who can execute the plans on the pitch.
Come to think of, Indian hockey authorities would be kicking themselves for not hiring Ric Charlesworth, the legendary Aussie former captain and champion coach back in 2008 when he had offered to train the National side. Rather, Charlesworth was humiliated before he became a victim to vicious whispering campaign. Australia won the 2010 world championship defeating Germany, and don’t be surprised if Ric Charlesworth is still having the last laugh!
Perhaps one of the best ways to revive hockey is by creating interest among kids. About time parents gift young kids with hockey stick instead of only a cricket bat. So what if they play on road or on clay. At least we might be able to create some spectators if not make them a player. Unless there is a conscious effort from administrators to empower foreign coaches, tap talent at grass root level, start clubs in colonies, and explore avenues for sponsorship and entertainment, hockey will not survive. No wonder, Aslam Sher Khan’s autobiography titled “To Hell with Hockey” - continues to reverberate on Indian hockey lover’s lips.
“GOOOAAALLLLL, Well done Rajpal, India has equalized”….. Novy Kapadia’s sonorous voice kept blaring loudly in the car. That evening our Indian hockey team was playing against England, and invariably trying hard to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. By the time I reached home, India had lost …3-2 to England…. and I had lost my appetite.
Its strange but true….A world cup loss in T20 might fail to generate tears but a hockey match has the ability to choke and bring out the tears. In those 70 minutes, it generates tremendous patriotic fervor, and allows you to selflessly immerse in the experience, energy, enthusiasm and the excitement of the players and crowd.
Today the hockey stick has become a metaphor and with age perhaps replaced with an expensive golf club!…But the hands still yearns to grip the wooden magic wand….
Hopefully.. one day.. some day… like in Cricket, we will be able to find some Tendulkar and Lalit Modi who will be able to revive Indian Hockey!.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Harishchandrachi Factory – A Delightful Portrayal of a Celluloid Evangelist
If ‘3 Idiots’ comically presented the insipidness of our education system through the idiosyncrasies of fictitious Rancho, the Oscar nominated ‘Harishchandrachi Factory’ attempts to present the story of an original Rancho. While 3 Idiots has grossed maximum revenues in the annals of Indian film history, interestingly Harishchandrachi Factory delves on the history and the inception of Indian films. Isn’t it a strange coincidence that both these films are playing in multiplexes at the same time?
Harishchandrachi Factory (Harishchandra’s Factory) made in Marathi is a delightful flick, with universal appeal. The film presents the journey of founding father of Indian cinema Dhundiraj Govind Phalke a.k.a. Dadasaheb's Phalke - an intelligent iconoclast and a phenomenal celluloid evangelist. The film hilariously projects the trials, tribulations, sacrifice and the relentless tenacity of Phalke, his family and the entire crew. Despite their pain, humiliation, satire, these people set out to establish an industry that manufactures cinema.
Circa 1911
The movie produced by UTV features the conservative pre-independence era and brings to life the famous Girgaum area (Charni Road) in erstwhile Bombay. In those days, silent movies were been played in tent and were invariably patronized by Europeans, Parsis and a few elite locals in Bombay.
In the movie, Phalke (Nandu Madhav) has relinquished his printing business and happens to stumble upon a tent theatre where such silent movies play. The bioscope beguiles, bemuses and mesmerizes Phalke, so much so that he passionately sets out to learn all he can about this new entertainment form. He manages to sell his furniture and household wares to buys books on film and physics. Phalke later travels to England, visit movie sets and learns the art of making movies. He soon returns to India with a Williamson Camera and goes on a shooting spree. The rest, as they say, is history.
Nandu Madhav demonstrates tremendous versatility. Remember his stellar role in another international award winning film ‘Valu’. In this film Nandu presents Phalke as Chaplinsque and yet distinctly projects Phalke’s determination, dedication, discipline and dream.
They say behind every successful man is a women and often a surprised mother –in – law!
Phalke’s wife Saraswati, brilliantly played by the talented Vibhavari Apte is seen to be believed. Saraswati is courageous, uninhibited, intelligent, and compassionate who patiently supports her husbands dream. Their love story is the fulcrum of this movie. Phalke’s two sons also play a pivotal role in helping their father achieve the impossible. The other actors also provide proper justice to their roles.
Paresh Mokashi’s script is well researched, his direction is intense and yet delicate. Ironically writer-director- playwright Mokashi’s directorial debut also has something in common with Phalke. Both of them had to mortgage their house in pursuit of their passion.
The music seamlessly blends with the film, providing perfect tempo and inexorably carries the narrative forward. The editing appears sharp but with the script buttered in humour, it gradually develops context as it switches to the 8mm and silent era. The costume designs, the sets, the location and the bright cinematography authenticate the narration. Nitin Desai’s art direction reinforces the screenplay. The camera zooms in, the wide angle shots take you closer to Phalke and succinctly manage to presents the challenges of film making in 20th century.
The story ends with the projection of India's first film, "Raja Harishchandra," in 1913 based on famous Indian mythological king. Phalke’s black and white silent picture achieves surreal success and swoon’s the audience with innovative marketing campaign. No wonder this medium has become an integral part of our culture.
Harishchandrachi Factory cleverly avoids from becoming a documentary. Don’t miss it, even if you do not understand the language. You will come out of the theatre with a smile and Phalke’s vision, resilience and motivation will keep inspiring you for a while.
Harishchandrachi Factory (Harishchandra’s Factory) made in Marathi is a delightful flick, with universal appeal. The film presents the journey of founding father of Indian cinema Dhundiraj Govind Phalke a.k.a. Dadasaheb's Phalke - an intelligent iconoclast and a phenomenal celluloid evangelist. The film hilariously projects the trials, tribulations, sacrifice and the relentless tenacity of Phalke, his family and the entire crew. Despite their pain, humiliation, satire, these people set out to establish an industry that manufactures cinema.
Circa 1911
The movie produced by UTV features the conservative pre-independence era and brings to life the famous Girgaum area (Charni Road) in erstwhile Bombay. In those days, silent movies were been played in tent and were invariably patronized by Europeans, Parsis and a few elite locals in Bombay.
In the movie, Phalke (Nandu Madhav) has relinquished his printing business and happens to stumble upon a tent theatre where such silent movies play. The bioscope beguiles, bemuses and mesmerizes Phalke, so much so that he passionately sets out to learn all he can about this new entertainment form. He manages to sell his furniture and household wares to buys books on film and physics. Phalke later travels to England, visit movie sets and learns the art of making movies. He soon returns to India with a Williamson Camera and goes on a shooting spree. The rest, as they say, is history.
Nandu Madhav demonstrates tremendous versatility. Remember his stellar role in another international award winning film ‘Valu’. In this film Nandu presents Phalke as Chaplinsque and yet distinctly projects Phalke’s determination, dedication, discipline and dream.
They say behind every successful man is a women and often a surprised mother –in – law!
Phalke’s wife Saraswati, brilliantly played by the talented Vibhavari Apte is seen to be believed. Saraswati is courageous, uninhibited, intelligent, and compassionate who patiently supports her husbands dream. Their love story is the fulcrum of this movie. Phalke’s two sons also play a pivotal role in helping their father achieve the impossible. The other actors also provide proper justice to their roles.
Paresh Mokashi’s script is well researched, his direction is intense and yet delicate. Ironically writer-director- playwright Mokashi’s directorial debut also has something in common with Phalke. Both of them had to mortgage their house in pursuit of their passion.
The music seamlessly blends with the film, providing perfect tempo and inexorably carries the narrative forward. The editing appears sharp but with the script buttered in humour, it gradually develops context as it switches to the 8mm and silent era. The costume designs, the sets, the location and the bright cinematography authenticate the narration. Nitin Desai’s art direction reinforces the screenplay. The camera zooms in, the wide angle shots take you closer to Phalke and succinctly manage to presents the challenges of film making in 20th century.
The story ends with the projection of India's first film, "Raja Harishchandra," in 1913 based on famous Indian mythological king. Phalke’s black and white silent picture achieves surreal success and swoon’s the audience with innovative marketing campaign. No wonder this medium has become an integral part of our culture.
Harishchandrachi Factory cleverly avoids from becoming a documentary. Don’t miss it, even if you do not understand the language. You will come out of the theatre with a smile and Phalke’s vision, resilience and motivation will keep inspiring you for a while.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A New Beginning..!
I wasn’t really sure what to address in this first post of 2010 and therefore thought of writing a review of the last decade and along with it do some crystal gazing for the next. But then haven’t you been reading many such columns that succinctly summarise the decade. So what’s new about this post? …Honestly nothing!
Personally, it is daunting to even attempt and prognosticate how the next decade and New Year 2010 will unfold. I reckon the easiest way to summarize this decade and perhaps even imagine how the new decade could unfold, is to remember Dickens:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”
In “A Tale of Two Cites” , Charles Dickens writes that the French Revolution was inevitable because the aristocracy exploited and plundered the poor, driving them to revolt.
Apparently the London of Dicken’s is eerily alive…Only this time, it is not the French Revolution, or the downturn of tumultuous socialism – instead it is about the global recession, social networks, terrorism, rapid increase in teenage crimes, corporate scams and bankruptcy. It is about the abhorrent social decay, surge in religious fundamentalism and the narrow understanding of secularism. The surge in yellow journalism and electronic media, its perfidy of breaking news, reckless intrusion and the clamour to regulate and control the fourth estate.
It is about political dynasty, corrupt politicians, bureaucrats, growing xenophobia and the continued deprivation and humiliation of common man. It is enamored with antiquated legislations, delayed justice, superficial democracy and the growing indifference with thick geographical boundaries. It is about racism, parochialism, mounting disenchantment and the concomitant clash of civilization between east and west. It is about a flat world excoriated by trade barriers, monopolies, sanctions and regulations. It is about the arrival of new superpower armed with nuclear arsenals. It is about impending tsunamis, melting ice, rising temperatures, global warming, enamored with inane and shameless indifference at Copenhagen.
Amidst these onslaughts, the last decade clearly demonstrates the courageous resilience of developing nations. Towards the end, it promised some bleak signs of revival supported by governmental stimulus and some 'Audacity of hope'!
When it comes to sports, we were fortunate to witness the remarkable achievements of Phelf, the magic of Beckham, the speed of Usain Bolt, the return of Schumacher, the ascent of champion Roger Federer, the arrogance and skills of Williams sister’s. But the decade would be remembered for the shocking revelations of Agassi, the fragile life of sportstars, and the sleazy romps of Tiger Woods.
For India, the last decade was phenomenal. We were finally able to witness Abhinav Bindra winning gold in individual sports, see the arrival of Vijendra, young boxing sensation and the two prodigal lasses - Sania and Saina. Vishwanathan Anand continues to remain the undisputed King of chess for more than two decades.
Hockey has almost become extinct, but Formulae 1 and football promises some hopes. Sadly our interest and patience in cricket have waned, just as we reached the pinnacle. T20, IPL and instant gratification has become a way of life and cricket continues to be administered by politicians, businessmen, bollywood celebrities and marketing moguls. New innovations are being explored and the games alliance with technology would soon become a marriage of convenience.
For the next few years, hopefully the infants in mothers arm would get to witness the legends of the game. Tendulkar still runs and bats like 20 year old, coupled with his dogged passion and Dhoni’s Midas touch, India seems to be poised to clinch the world cup. Sehwag and Dhoni have redefined cricket but it was the fabulous four who crafted the way to make India a champion side. Leadership has got a new definition – sense of conviction, aggression and perseverance cleverly demonstrated by the Prince of Kolkatta, Saurav Ganguly and Anil Kumble and these have become necessary even in the corporate boardrooms. Thankfully, the men who started our ascent to supremacy – Laxman and Dravid with their batting exploits in 2001, will be around to selflessly serve in the new decade.
On the personal and professional front, the decade has given us some wonderful and bitter experiences. Meeting our old friends, colleagues and staying connected with them has been one of the best offerings by the last decade. Internet, search engines, email, mobile and satellite communication have reduced distances but what has generated the loudest buzz … it was the advent of Google, Facebook, Twitter and Youtube that made social networking a bare necessity. But this is just the beginning…
Thankfully the last decade also taught us to live in an age of uncertainty, become more resilient, humble, wise and stronger than before. Nonetheless believe in the old Samurai saying, “Expect the Unexpected” and stop worrying about how the future unfolds.
Looking back, we bid the decade and year 2009 a fond adieu and welcome 2010 with open arms, optimism and dedication. May you experience good tidings and that feeling of joy throughout the next year …and may the next decade be as fruitful, and hopefully more so, than the last.
Personally, it is daunting to even attempt and prognosticate how the next decade and New Year 2010 will unfold. I reckon the easiest way to summarize this decade and perhaps even imagine how the new decade could unfold, is to remember Dickens:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”
In “A Tale of Two Cites” , Charles Dickens writes that the French Revolution was inevitable because the aristocracy exploited and plundered the poor, driving them to revolt.
Apparently the London of Dicken’s is eerily alive…Only this time, it is not the French Revolution, or the downturn of tumultuous socialism – instead it is about the global recession, social networks, terrorism, rapid increase in teenage crimes, corporate scams and bankruptcy. It is about the abhorrent social decay, surge in religious fundamentalism and the narrow understanding of secularism. The surge in yellow journalism and electronic media, its perfidy of breaking news, reckless intrusion and the clamour to regulate and control the fourth estate.
It is about political dynasty, corrupt politicians, bureaucrats, growing xenophobia and the continued deprivation and humiliation of common man. It is enamored with antiquated legislations, delayed justice, superficial democracy and the growing indifference with thick geographical boundaries. It is about racism, parochialism, mounting disenchantment and the concomitant clash of civilization between east and west. It is about a flat world excoriated by trade barriers, monopolies, sanctions and regulations. It is about the arrival of new superpower armed with nuclear arsenals. It is about impending tsunamis, melting ice, rising temperatures, global warming, enamored with inane and shameless indifference at Copenhagen.
Amidst these onslaughts, the last decade clearly demonstrates the courageous resilience of developing nations. Towards the end, it promised some bleak signs of revival supported by governmental stimulus and some 'Audacity of hope'!
When it comes to sports, we were fortunate to witness the remarkable achievements of Phelf, the magic of Beckham, the speed of Usain Bolt, the return of Schumacher, the ascent of champion Roger Federer, the arrogance and skills of Williams sister’s. But the decade would be remembered for the shocking revelations of Agassi, the fragile life of sportstars, and the sleazy romps of Tiger Woods.
For India, the last decade was phenomenal. We were finally able to witness Abhinav Bindra winning gold in individual sports, see the arrival of Vijendra, young boxing sensation and the two prodigal lasses - Sania and Saina. Vishwanathan Anand continues to remain the undisputed King of chess for more than two decades.
Hockey has almost become extinct, but Formulae 1 and football promises some hopes. Sadly our interest and patience in cricket have waned, just as we reached the pinnacle. T20, IPL and instant gratification has become a way of life and cricket continues to be administered by politicians, businessmen, bollywood celebrities and marketing moguls. New innovations are being explored and the games alliance with technology would soon become a marriage of convenience.
For the next few years, hopefully the infants in mothers arm would get to witness the legends of the game. Tendulkar still runs and bats like 20 year old, coupled with his dogged passion and Dhoni’s Midas touch, India seems to be poised to clinch the world cup. Sehwag and Dhoni have redefined cricket but it was the fabulous four who crafted the way to make India a champion side. Leadership has got a new definition – sense of conviction, aggression and perseverance cleverly demonstrated by the Prince of Kolkatta, Saurav Ganguly and Anil Kumble and these have become necessary even in the corporate boardrooms. Thankfully, the men who started our ascent to supremacy – Laxman and Dravid with their batting exploits in 2001, will be around to selflessly serve in the new decade.
On the personal and professional front, the decade has given us some wonderful and bitter experiences. Meeting our old friends, colleagues and staying connected with them has been one of the best offerings by the last decade. Internet, search engines, email, mobile and satellite communication have reduced distances but what has generated the loudest buzz … it was the advent of Google, Facebook, Twitter and Youtube that made social networking a bare necessity. But this is just the beginning…
Thankfully the last decade also taught us to live in an age of uncertainty, become more resilient, humble, wise and stronger than before. Nonetheless believe in the old Samurai saying, “Expect the Unexpected” and stop worrying about how the future unfolds.
Looking back, we bid the decade and year 2009 a fond adieu and welcome 2010 with open arms, optimism and dedication. May you experience good tidings and that feeling of joy throughout the next year …and may the next decade be as fruitful, and hopefully more so, than the last.
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