Early this week, my Twitter timeline had begun showing trickles of applause for Lootera, a film that hadn't released to audiences yet. Mostly from the film fraternity, a few close aides of the film fraternity, and a handful of relatives of the close aides, had wonderful things to say about the film. By the middle of the week, I had heard from various corners that Lootera was a poignant love story with a heart, painted in glorious hues. On Friday morning, colleagues asked me if I was going to watch Lootera - and that I should - because it was a poignant love story with a heart, painted in glorious hues. And so I did, that night.
When we walked out of the hall, my wife asked me for my response like she always does (except the time I made her miss dinner so we could go watch 'Joker' - that evening she asked for various explanations, but not a response). I answered, scavenging on residual popcorn crumbs on my shirt, that Lootera was a poignant love story with a heart, painted in glorious hues.
Later that night, I wavered on my opinion. No, I still did think the film was wonderful.Yes, Lootera surprises you with its texture, its vintage appeal, very controlled performances, a smoothly adapted O Henry twist, and some breathtaking cinematography which becomes the primary reason you shouldn't compress this lovely canvas on a Youtube video (especially if you use Reliance Netconnect). It also leaves cynics dissatisfied. "Oh, but I had planned to say - Sonakshi's nose-ring is more expressive than her - damn, she was good".
I only think my view of the film, and arguably that of many others, was built prematurely, and was a little exaggerated too. Maybe that is precisely where I felt deprived. I went in expecting a magnificent film, all I got was a wonderful film instead. I thought the film was slower than it should have been. The narration was somewhat linear. All said and done, I liked it. But the uproar in the media and on the social network had stripped me of that tingling, alluring uncertainty that I want to feel when I buy a movie ticket. (You could make a joke here about how expensive this alluring uncertainty is, but then I could ward you off by assuring you the public hasn't signed off on this joke yet.)
On publicity, films face their share of potential perils too. A beautifully made, labour-intensive film can be trashed in a matter of hours, lying precariously the way we have seen often, in the hands of reviewers and nobodies who take themselves too seriously. Naysayers are infectious, as are the over optimistic. Somewhere in this common trapeze act, many a film lies confused as to which side it should take - that of indulgence in its creativity, or the pursuit of its commercial viability. Sadly, the whims of its audiences don't allow it to form a clear judgement.
The next time a film releases, I'd like to watch it before experts tweet about it. For that to happen, I might need to be invited to pre-launch premiers. For that to happen, I might need to become an expert on films myself. For that to happen, I might need to start stoking public opinion through my own reviews. Oh damn, this web has me in a snare. For now, I might just go watch Lootera for the second time. Because everyone else is doing so, and that just seems right.
When we walked out of the hall, my wife asked me for my response like she always does (except the time I made her miss dinner so we could go watch 'Joker' - that evening she asked for various explanations, but not a response). I answered, scavenging on residual popcorn crumbs on my shirt, that Lootera was a poignant love story with a heart, painted in glorious hues.
I only think my view of the film, and arguably that of many others, was built prematurely, and was a little exaggerated too. Maybe that is precisely where I felt deprived. I went in expecting a magnificent film, all I got was a wonderful film instead. I thought the film was slower than it should have been. The narration was somewhat linear. All said and done, I liked it. But the uproar in the media and on the social network had stripped me of that tingling, alluring uncertainty that I want to feel when I buy a movie ticket. (You could make a joke here about how expensive this alluring uncertainty is, but then I could ward you off by assuring you the public hasn't signed off on this joke yet.)
On publicity, films face their share of potential perils too. A beautifully made, labour-intensive film can be trashed in a matter of hours, lying precariously the way we have seen often, in the hands of reviewers and nobodies who take themselves too seriously. Naysayers are infectious, as are the over optimistic. Somewhere in this common trapeze act, many a film lies confused as to which side it should take - that of indulgence in its creativity, or the pursuit of its commercial viability. Sadly, the whims of its audiences don't allow it to form a clear judgement.
The next time a film releases, I'd like to watch it before experts tweet about it. For that to happen, I might need to be invited to pre-launch premiers. For that to happen, I might need to become an expert on films myself. For that to happen, I might need to start stoking public opinion through my own reviews. Oh damn, this web has me in a snare. For now, I might just go watch Lootera for the second time. Because everyone else is doing so, and that just seems right.
No comments:
Post a Comment