I’ve always been quite okay with solo movie trips. I still have good friends who balk at the idea, and make me feel like it is an outlandish thing to enjoy a movie alone. The horror! I pooh-pooh the histrionics and tell them to give it a shot. Because going solo, can sometimes make all the difference. It closes the ever widening gap between waiting for someone to make a plan and missing said movie altogether (because in Goa the best movies never run long enough), between sending out a mass message and waiting endlessly for someone to reply and be the one to accompany you, between thinking you’ll have company to go and realising its a futile wait.
Over the last year I got quite used to going to the multiplex to catch a movie all by myself. By the end of the year, I have to admit, this has become my preferred way. I’m game for a group watch if the opportunity arises, but I no longer wait. Because the movies don’t. And since I’m a movie junkie (of the masochistic kind), I go through fits of needing to watching everything that seems even remotely passable. Even if it means I come out thoroughly disappointed.
It helps that the husband is the going solo sort too. Most times we go to the movies together, but there have been times when we’ve gone to the multiplex together, bought tickets for different movies, parted ways and and met at the end. When I was in Bangalore last week, VC took himself to watch Walter Mitty and The Wolf Of Wall Street, both movies that I wanted to watch too. But sticking by the “Good movies wait for no one (in Goa)” rule, he decided to go without me. Which meant that I had to go watch the movies alone when I returned.
Walter Mitty didn’t last more than a week, so I missed it. I must be a passive-pirate now, get my Chief Pirate to download it for me, and resort to solo watching at home. But I did catch The Wolf of Wall Street over the weekend. Which I loved right up till the 3/4th mark, and all was actually going well. It ticked all the Martin Scorsese boxes for me with the dark humor, the loud and in your face almost lewd satire, the perfect mirror held up to our life and times. And Leonardo DiCaprio, has outdone himself again. To think he came from the days of Titanic to this, is pretty mind-boggling.
My only crib was that the movie was a tad longer than I’d have enjoyed. Most of it was entertaining, had me rapt, and was eye-opening for me because I have always only wondered and never bothered to read up and figure out this whole money-laundering via the stock market thing works. Even then, 75% thru, I began to wonder how much more there was to tell. Most others I know thought it was painfully detailed and long, but I think I walked out with a message despite feeling like the last 1/4 nosedived, most unpleasantly. I’m no technical buff when it comes to cinema, but I’d put that off to lazy editing. The fanatics might tell me to take a hike and give me a lesson on the Scorsese level of detail. I can’t imagine that translating Jordan Belfort’s memoir visually, could have been easy, given the colourful and hyper-eventful nature of his life. I have a not-so-secret opinion that Scorsese was most definitely tripping on something through out the duration of making the film.
Yesterday, I watched Sholay in 3D. All 4 hours of it. All over again. And came out just as entertained and charged as I did the first time I watched it. I’m not one of those die-hard Sholay aficionados, but I do love the film for all the typical reasons, topping which is the incredible hotness of the angry young man that is Amitabh Bacchan.
I think Deewar and Sholay pretty much did the trick and put Amitabh in the stellar stardom level, in my eyes. The 3D rendition was actually rather nicely done — by which I mean effects were used to aid the film visually, rather than only because it’s nicer to have 3-dimensional people than flat people. Despite having watched the movie several times before, I still jumped in parts when a bullet or a splint of wood came hurtling out towards me. It was fabulous.
The best watch of the past weekend was Dedh Ishqiya, which has left me in a slightly delirious good-film-hangover. I caught the late night show, that I very rarely do. A good stiff coffee was needed to keep me awake. Or so I thought, quickly downing the hot drink before the movie started. But just fifteen minutes in, I know I’d have managed just fine even without it. The story, though was straightfoward and mildly predictable, but it didn’t matter because the writing was tight, the editing clean and balanced, the sets gorgeeeeous, and then there was Naseeruddin Shah, Madhuri Dixit, Arshad Warsi and Huma Qureshi. Seriously way too much talent for one movie. It was riveting from the word go.
The second half of last year had been largely disappointing, Bollywood-wise. Aside form The Lunchbox I can’t remember walking out of a single movie without something to crib about. Even the ones that were watchable, had a snag somewhere. My biggest Bollywood rant of late has been that everything is so disproportionately OTT. Moderation and balance is dead. So in the face of that, it was wonderful to see a classy film like Dedh Ishqiya, because I just couldn’t tell where the 2.5 hours has slipped by, I laughed through it all, thoroughly enjoyed some of my most favourite Begum Akhtar ghazals in it, and came out satisfied, without a single complain. Bollywoods still got it.
I’ve had the music on loop every since, stopping only to play some of the original ghazals every now and then. Here, sample this.
And this, if you’re into this kind of music. Goosebump inducing stuff, this.
And then go watch the film, if you haven’t already. And if you don’t have the company, go solo.