Heavy on the photos
I haven't really been feeling like being online much lately, for various reasons. However, I keep thinking up things that I want to make into posts, and then dismissing them, and that's annoying. So this is going to be an attempt to at least write up some of those things.
I spent Tuesday and Wednesday with my lovely cousin dangermousie (whose birthday it is today!) and we watched much anime clips and Bollywood. Tuesday she showed me Paheli, a beautiful adaptation of an old Indian legend. In the legend, a young bride's husband goes away, and a spirit who falls in love with her takes on his form, tricking her. When the real husband comes back, the villagers have to figure out which one is the real husband ("paheli" means "riddle").
(I hope I have that right, shvetufae!)
The movie introduces a twist in that the woman's original husband is distant and inattentive, and the spirit does not trick the woman, but tells her what he is right away. Thus instead of "innocently" falling into a spirit's trap, she knowingly and willingly chooses to take the impostor as her husband. This is very unusual for Bollywood, especially considering that she gets a happy ending--usually adultresses are punished by death or consignment to a whorehouse, etc. As dangermousie pointed out to me, however, Paheli takes a stab at quite a few Bollywood conventions concerning women and relationships--for instance, when the woman becomes pregnant, the spirit actually wishes for the child to be a girl. Anyway, it's a really pretty movie, and was India's entry for the foreign film Oscar this year.
Watching it, dangermousie and I both remarked on the lovely cinematography, and it got me thinking about how Bollywood really isn't appreciated enough. Sure, it can often be campy, and that has its own appeal, but Bollywood movies offer some of the most lovely visuals I've seen on screen, and the most sweeping stories. Being 3 hours long, they have the space to linger on emotional moments far more than Hollywood movies, and also to work with plots structured in several dramatic arcs.
Also, the musical numbers really enhance some stories. They felt entirely organic in Paheli, for instance, what with its fairy-tale feel--I think even a Western audience would find the appropriate within that movie.
The wife and the spirit-husband as puppets in the closing credits song. (The story is narrated by two Indian puppet dolls.)
The spirit wooing the wife.
Shah Rukh Khan (who plays the male lead) is not exactly a conventional stunner, but is charismatic like whoa.
Unfortunately, I don't think even he can pull off this hat.
Another thing I realized was interesting about Bollywood movies is that oddly enough, they're a lot more gender-equal in how they treat the actors as visual objects. I recently saw another visually arresting movie--Sin City--which provides probably the biggest contrast to Bollywood in this respect. In Sin City, not a woman showed up on screen but that she was objectified, the camera leeringly focusing on her (often naked) breasts, butt, and thighs. The men, on the other hand, were shown solely in terms of action; not sexual objects at all. Even when fighting, the camera was interested in how the woman's body moved more than in what she was doing, while as with the men, even when they were naked, the focus was undeniably on what they used their body for. The men did things, the women were seen.
Bollywood, of course, is well-known for the ever-present "wet-sari scene" and the sexy dance numbers showing off the female stars' voluptuous figures. However, even though the women are depicted in this way more frequently, the men are treated in the very same way. There is hardly any difference in how the camera views them--and I think the way that men are often portrayed in Bollywood is never present in Hollywood films. Just as the camera pans over the heroine's swelling bosom under her waterfall-soaked sari, it will usually take some time to linger on the hero's muscular torso under his white tunic, made transparent under the same stream of water. When the women are clad in revealing outfits, the men are dressed in mesh skintight shirts and clingy shiny trousers. The musical numbers might seem silly or overly flamboyant, but they don't feel particularly one-sided.
(For instance, look at these ridiculous promo photos from some upcoming superhero flick, and tell me the male lead isn't objectified: Romance novel cover; Shiny man; run, musclebound man, run!; now this is just cute.)
Oh, and I have to share this pic just because.
(I am not saying this is sexy. I'm just saying this is special.)
By the way, dangermousie, this is where I could really use a photo of Asoka and Kaurwaki in the water together.
Finally, on an entirely different topic, I took a walk around my neighborhood the other day and took some photos. I have to say I generally find beauty in most places (including NJ!) but I really think that on a sunny day this neighborhood is really lovely. It isn't an unusual loveliness per se--after all, it's your basic suburban neighborhood--but I'm always taken aback by the brightness of the trees and the grass, and how picture-perfect everything looks.
I'd been meaning to do a walk-through of my street and the adjoining park for ages, but I lost the previous batch of photos I had. (Which is too bad, since they were taken on an even better day, and included more flowers.) I regret I couldn't do this in the spring, when there are cherry blossoms and flowering bushes everyone, but oh well.
A partway view of our house.
The street.
A cul-de-sac on the way to the park. The sky came out nicely here.
Going into the park. Some kids in bright jerseys were playing soccer to the side, but I couldn't get a good photo of them.
The walk leads to a lake.
I love the gazebo.
A little road after the lake...
Leading to this little red bridge and somewhat puzzling cottage behind it. This part of the park always makes me feel like I'm in a fairytale setting.
There's a huge tree trunk behind the cottage.
Looking back onto the lake...
Coming 'round the other side.
There are geese around.
They let me take a close picture.
I think this is a good photo to end this entry on.
I spent Tuesday and Wednesday with my lovely cousin dangermousie (whose birthday it is today!) and we watched much anime clips and Bollywood. Tuesday she showed me Paheli, a beautiful adaptation of an old Indian legend. In the legend, a young bride's husband goes away, and a spirit who falls in love with her takes on his form, tricking her. When the real husband comes back, the villagers have to figure out which one is the real husband ("paheli" means "riddle").
(I hope I have that right, shvetufae!)
The movie introduces a twist in that the woman's original husband is distant and inattentive, and the spirit does not trick the woman, but tells her what he is right away. Thus instead of "innocently" falling into a spirit's trap, she knowingly and willingly chooses to take the impostor as her husband. This is very unusual for Bollywood, especially considering that she gets a happy ending--usually adultresses are punished by death or consignment to a whorehouse, etc. As dangermousie pointed out to me, however, Paheli takes a stab at quite a few Bollywood conventions concerning women and relationships--for instance, when the woman becomes pregnant, the spirit actually wishes for the child to be a girl. Anyway, it's a really pretty movie, and was India's entry for the foreign film Oscar this year.
Watching it, dangermousie and I both remarked on the lovely cinematography, and it got me thinking about how Bollywood really isn't appreciated enough. Sure, it can often be campy, and that has its own appeal, but Bollywood movies offer some of the most lovely visuals I've seen on screen, and the most sweeping stories. Being 3 hours long, they have the space to linger on emotional moments far more than Hollywood movies, and also to work with plots structured in several dramatic arcs.
Also, the musical numbers really enhance some stories. They felt entirely organic in Paheli, for instance, what with its fairy-tale feel--I think even a Western audience would find the appropriate within that movie.
The wife and the spirit-husband as puppets in the closing credits song. (The story is narrated by two Indian puppet dolls.)
The spirit wooing the wife.
Shah Rukh Khan (who plays the male lead) is not exactly a conventional stunner, but is charismatic like whoa.
Unfortunately, I don't think even he can pull off this hat.
Another thing I realized was interesting about Bollywood movies is that oddly enough, they're a lot more gender-equal in how they treat the actors as visual objects. I recently saw another visually arresting movie--Sin City--which provides probably the biggest contrast to Bollywood in this respect. In Sin City, not a woman showed up on screen but that she was objectified, the camera leeringly focusing on her (often naked) breasts, butt, and thighs. The men, on the other hand, were shown solely in terms of action; not sexual objects at all. Even when fighting, the camera was interested in how the woman's body moved more than in what she was doing, while as with the men, even when they were naked, the focus was undeniably on what they used their body for. The men did things, the women were seen.
Bollywood, of course, is well-known for the ever-present "wet-sari scene" and the sexy dance numbers showing off the female stars' voluptuous figures. However, even though the women are depicted in this way more frequently, the men are treated in the very same way. There is hardly any difference in how the camera views them--and I think the way that men are often portrayed in Bollywood is never present in Hollywood films. Just as the camera pans over the heroine's swelling bosom under her waterfall-soaked sari, it will usually take some time to linger on the hero's muscular torso under his white tunic, made transparent under the same stream of water. When the women are clad in revealing outfits, the men are dressed in mesh skintight shirts and clingy shiny trousers. The musical numbers might seem silly or overly flamboyant, but they don't feel particularly one-sided.
(For instance, look at these ridiculous promo photos from some upcoming superhero flick, and tell me the male lead isn't objectified: Romance novel cover; Shiny man; run, musclebound man, run!; now this is just cute.)
Oh, and I have to share this pic just because.
(I am not saying this is sexy. I'm just saying this is special.)
By the way, dangermousie, this is where I could really use a photo of Asoka and Kaurwaki in the water together.
Finally, on an entirely different topic, I took a walk around my neighborhood the other day and took some photos. I have to say I generally find beauty in most places (including NJ!) but I really think that on a sunny day this neighborhood is really lovely. It isn't an unusual loveliness per se--after all, it's your basic suburban neighborhood--but I'm always taken aback by the brightness of the trees and the grass, and how picture-perfect everything looks.
I'd been meaning to do a walk-through of my street and the adjoining park for ages, but I lost the previous batch of photos I had. (Which is too bad, since they were taken on an even better day, and included more flowers.) I regret I couldn't do this in the spring, when there are cherry blossoms and flowering bushes everyone, but oh well.
A partway view of our house.
The street.
A cul-de-sac on the way to the park. The sky came out nicely here.
Going into the park. Some kids in bright jerseys were playing soccer to the side, but I couldn't get a good photo of them.
The walk leads to a lake.
I love the gazebo.
A little road after the lake...
Leading to this little red bridge and somewhat puzzling cottage behind it. This part of the park always makes me feel like I'm in a fairytale setting.
There's a huge tree trunk behind the cottage.
Looking back onto the lake...
Coming 'round the other side.
There are geese around.
They let me take a close picture.
I think this is a good photo to end this entry on.