Movies That Maim

Before I outrage sentiments, let me say that these are movies that have maimed ONLY me. To those who have enjoyed these movies...umm...errrr...

First impressions are formed within a couple of minutes after meeting a new person. Well, when someone meets me for the first time, ‘normal’ is not the first adjective that enters their head. Freud puts it all back to childhood experiences. There’s a grain of truth in that.

My earliest recollection of a truly bad movie experience dates back to school days. 1985-1986 type. I don’t remember the occasion that was responsible for a group of us school mates to loiter around in Majestic area. But such occasions usually called for a group activity. Snacks in Kamat and perhaps a movie. There would be HELL to pay for if our parents came to know. So it HAD TO BE DONE. There was a re-run of Sholay, but it had already started an hour ago. Some wanted to see it nevertheless. Some of us wanted to watch something new. The afternoon was hot and sweltering. I suggested beating retreat – I longed for the cool confines of home, and settling down with Tintin. But such opportunities don’t arise often; a movie had to be seen. And so we did. It was Mithun Chakraborthy’s Zindagani. It was a ‘misplaced, lost and found’ formula. The leading lady was Rati Agnihotri. 3 hours of screaming and wailing Rakhee Gulzar, 3 hours of yelling – everyone yelling revenge and everyone slapping everyone. Everytime Mithun came on screen shaking his fist and more, money was thrown and people clapped and whistled. We kids sat trembling – perhaps a riot was about to break out, we thought. Yet, such was our dedication to our goal of watching a movie that we sat through. We felt like heroes – the movie had hardened us (thinking back, it froze our brain cells perhaps).

In the same year, a bunch of us were taken to Shivajinagar for some discount shopping – cheap school shoes and stuff like that. This time, it was not school pals – it was neighbours. My Mum, a neighbour Aunty and four of us kids had taken the bus from Malleswaram to Shivajinagar. After gawking at the by-lanes, we were then shepherded to M.G. Road for a surprise treat – ice creams at Lakeview. Feeling blissful, we then started to walk back to Shivajinagar bus stand.

Near the bus stand, right after Infantry road junction, there is a small non-descript theatre. As we neared this place, a drizzle that had started turned into a ferocious downpour. We ran near the cinema hall to take shelter. Twenty minutes later, the rain had only strengthened. The man at the ticket counter beckoned Aunty and Mum and asked us to sit inside the cinema hall. The ladies were doubtful – but by now, the narrow road had started flooding. “It’s a family movie, don’t worry. The children can at least sleep,” the kind man behind the counter said. Apparently the movie was running for over a year. It was a Rishi Kapoor movie, so it was indeed safe. Tickets were bought. This was serendipity for us children. Surprise ice-cream and surprise movie.

Incidentally, Rati Agnihotri featured in this movie too. I knew her very well of course, much to my Mum’s surprise. The movie was ‘Tawaif’. The ladies hissed at us to shut our eyes and take a nap. Fat chance. The movie was quite entertaining. Poonam Dhillon, Rishi and Rati. I was so entertained that I caught on the songs too. Especially ‘Mera shohar bada sharmeela’ much to my Mum’s mortification.

Then came college; pre-university. A close friend was in the throes of first love. She asked me ‘What is Eelu?’ I had no clue. But we found out soon enough. A song from a movie. It was actually ‘I-L-U’ apparently. We browsed through Stardust in the library. Yeah some movie called ‘Saudagar’. It was a big deal because – it was apparently a historical moment in Indian cinema. Two Thespians were coming together. ‘What’s thespian?’ my friend asked. I frowned. I had heard about lesbians...no...there could be no connection. We read the article. Dilip Kumar and Raj Kumar were acting together. ‘Maybe thespian means old men,’ my friend guessed. I shrugged. Hell she had scored over 85% in I.C.S.E...so she must be right.

The movie gave me my first migraine. Monisha Koirala in atrocious wigs, frilly clothes, the two old geezers snarling around...I thought I’ll have a stroke.

Degree college. A similar dreaded outing in Majestic. A similar impromptu decision to watch a movie. The only difference was that we needed block tickets – 15 or more. Only one movie was available. Gadibidi Ganda. Ravichandran. Two wives. ‘Nuf said.

First job was close to Cauvery theatre. Our first team movie was Gupt. We bought the tickets in black, and we were right up in Gandhi class on the second row. Loved the songs. Enjoyed the movie. But Monisha’s thighs at close up in cinemascope – unnerving. Kajol’s midriff at close up in cinemascope – the mind boggles. No wonder Bobby Deol looked all squashed up.

One quiet evening, a disgruntled colleague asked if we can head for a movie. Never say no to a movie, is my policy. It was just three of us. Colleague, his Mrs...and I. Same old Cauvery. The ticket wallahs were swatting flies. The movie was ‘Hamesha’. Burly Kajol, Puny Saif (those days, he was puny), Crazy Aditya Pancholi (those days, he did not have the silent ‘s’ in his surname). Some movie about reincarnation. By the end of it, I wanted to die, never to be born again.

A year later I was posted in Mysore. The team went to watch ‘Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam’. By then, I had enough cynicism flowing in my blood, but the fear of becoming an outcast reined in my tongue. Normally I would run miles away from a movie with such a title – but the need to fit in was greater, even though I had a crew-cut. I sat listlessly through ‘Nandini’s’ moronic chatter and ‘Samir’s’ ‘I am so saccharine’ antics. I completely lost it when Ajay Devgan came on screen and said he is ‘Vanraj’. From then on, it was downhill, I could not stop laughing hysterically.

My final attempt to ‘fit in’ was when I went to watch SRK’s Devdas. I felt like a meth addict who had withdrawal symptoms. Never again, I swore, I would put myself through this torture. My outcast status was complete.

Last year, on a bus ride from Bangalore to Mysore, I caught a Kannada movie on the bus video. HD quality DVD on a plasma screen, dolby 5.1 setup. I believe the movie name is ‘Junglee’ and the gentleman who’s the hero goes by the name of ‘Duniya Viji’. The sound was so loud that it was impossible to even plug in my Ipod or read. Every time I looked up, the hero’s well oiled six-pack flashed on the screen. I kept hoping the bus would plunge into a ditch to put me out of my misery. The only memory I have of this movie is some dance number where the hero twitches his pecs as a dance move. There! I passed on the misery to you.

Now-a-days I mostly catch movies on DVD or on the T.V. I am careful with DVDs because – well – it’s money out of my pocket. Yet, I’ve managed to buy some pretty horrid movies. I bought ‘Jade’ only because of William Friedkin. This is the superman who had directed Exorcist. Only one word to describe Jade - abysmal. The sexual psychological thriller plot worked like a charm for Basic Instinct. Except for the soundtrack, nothing worked in Jade....errr...not even the booby traps. Another hopeless movie I bought was Burn after Reading. Perhaps I missed the so called satire entirely – but I thought the movie was just deadening.

On T.V. it is a different ballgame. I believe I am at an age where I have to do ‘neurobics’ to ward of impending old-age senility. So I choose to watch Bollywood movies to keep me on the edge. ‘Hisss’ was one such experiment. I told my friends that this is the worst thing to happen since the Biblical plague. But the more I think about this movie, the more my respect grows for the director. There is no way a ‘normal’, ‘sane’ person could have directed this movie. Unless there was an ulterior motive. A government conspiracy to see if brains can be washed and bleached en-masse. I would say the experiment was successful.

I caught a movie called ‘Salma Pe DiI Aa Gaya’. I watched it while having lunch. I lost a couple of pounds over the next few days. This is a 1997 movie apparently – so do you see the pattern? The brain experiments have been going on for decades.

Then, I saw Karzzzzz. Himesh Reshamyaaawn. I was spellbound by the close-ups. He’s got terribly chapped lips you know. And the close-ups were such that I could count the pores on his nose. I had to check into rehab after this one.

Last week I caught a movie called ‘Indra – The Tiger’. It had Chiranjeevi. But I thought there was a problem with my T.V. All the men in the movie looked huge in the white jubbas and veshtis (and the turkey towels on the shoulders). So much so, it looked like a bunch of rhinos with moustaches stampeding. I caught the movie half-way so I could not make out what was happening. Except there was a lot of moustache twirling and thigh slapping. I burnt 600 calories in one hour, just by suspending my senses and watching this mayhem.

I believe Prem Shakti is on the agenda today.