I seem to return to blogging whenever life feels out of control. It usually manifests such that I stay up all night avoiding something I’ll have to do anyway, and in order to distract myself, I blog. Not a bad side-effect, especially if it means I put things I’m feeling into writing.
So anyway. I’ve been watching and reading a bunch of stuff.
I watched the much-hyped Lucia last week. For those not in the know, Lucia is a Kannada film. What makes it unique is that it is crowdfunded.
A year or two ago, I saw this rather intriguing trailer for this movie. They’d put out this trailer and asked people to give money on the basis of it. I had some issues with the payment gateway and forgot all about it for a while. By the time there were regular updates trickling in about the movie, the window for crowdfunding closed and the movie was soon to be released. I regretted forgetting all about it, but oh well, can’t do everything.
The movie opened in theaters just the weekend I was getting back to New York, so I didn’t have time to watch it then. It released online for non-Indian audiences last week. The site was slow to load; there must have been tons of traffic. And $10 later, I began watching it.
The storyline is taut. The acting is topnotch. It feels real and grounded. You end up relating to the characters. The music’s fun. There’s of course a twist ending that you’re waiting for, starting from the opening credits. And it’s good. But that’s not all that you appreciate the movie for.
It progresses slow in some paces, but that only suits to establish characters, make you empathize, build it all up so that you relate better to the climax and twist. Overall, it’s nicely made, well-directed, slick, and the sort of movie that puts a smile on your face.
And crowdfunding for movies seems great. As long as, of course, the movies that rely on crowdfunding are Indie and really can’t raaise funds from producers because it seems risky. I totally don’t appreciate the idea of big names using Kickstarter for their projects, just because they are too lazy to go out there and raise money the traditional way. Because it’s easier for them, and if they invade this sphere as well, where’s everybody else to go?
Oh, do watch Lucia. It’s a nice watch.
I’m part of a quarterly book club, and this time, our book of choice was Quiet – The Power of Introverts In A World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. It felt interesting to me. Of course, the problem with this genre is the anecdotal evidence that masquerades as supporting data for any hypothesis. The issue here is, Susan Cain is a worse offender than Malcolm Gladwell.
Still, the way of thinking about things has offered me a fresh perspective on myself. I’ve somehow always considered myself an extrovert. I’ve always been the most talkative kid in class, I always speak my mind, and I genuinely like meeting and getting to know people. And I’ve always been big on sharing my feelings. So how could I be an introvert?
Over the past few years, I find it easier and easier to be by myself. I guess I always did, I just never accepted it because if you were quiet and did your own thing, my extended family considered you downright weird, and my whole thing has been about getting away from that since then. I like living in a big city mainly because it affords me the anonymity and removes the need to have to rely on people continuously. I hate littering my day with ten-fifteen things on the fly the way my mother does, and I’m happiest just left to my own damn devices, decide my own damn schedule and not be answerable to too many people.
And it’d be great if the world left it that way and stopped trying to ‘fix’ me.
How watching Norah Jones videos and Netflix documentaries gave me a movie idea
I’m a huge huge fan of Norah Jones. I have zilch experience singing and now all I want is to be able to sing like her some day, just because I loved how she held us spellbound on that tiny stage in Tarrytown last year.
So no surprise I’ve been watching her interviews on YouTube a lot. Her soft Southern(?) lilt is endearing. She’s incredibly down to earth for someone who’s sold the most records in the previous decade. Her occasional comebacks (“You’re writing lots of breakup songs..” | “I’m not the only one”) feel very ‘bless ‘er heart’. I’m this close to crawling small musical venues around Cobble Hill hoping I chance on her performing in disguise (‘I’m not a good practicer, I learn best when I perform regularly’)
Now I’m no fan of Pandit Ravi Shankar. I haven’t really listened to his music, but the whole rockstar musician misogynist philanderer narrative has never sat well with me, be it with John Lennon or Ravi Shankar. I can write a whole essay on how the Simi Garewal interview with Ravi Shankar and Sukanya from fifteen years ago made me want to throw up. But his daughters, they give such fun interviews, say such fun things. Like the video where they are both accepting his Lifetime Achievement Grammy soon after his death.
In one of those rare interviews Norah Jones actually was mentioning her father, she was talking about her ‘inner jazz nerd’. That led me to watch a documentary on Jazz. It’s multipart, and I’m still midway into part 2, but the culture, the history, the way it is shaped around America’s race relations, how it is pretty much American history itself, delighted me. It’s this warm fuzzy feeling that comes with knowing that the little ditty you hum while doing the dishes is part of something much larger than itself.
This is a sliver of culture people are born into, people die with. My rootless self would probably claim that influence to be Rahman and Raja saar, but jazz spans generations. The same jazz standards are sung everywhere, by everyone, be it at Birdland or BlueNote, by Ella or Norah.
I might be jaded about the culture around Carnatic music, but jazz…. that was exciting. And I suppose tons of people would find the culture around Carnatic music exciting.
So. How about this movie about a philandering musician? He sows wild oats all over the world, and the mothers of his children are from musical traditions too.
Can make this musician of unknown lineage, unknown origin enough to make him blend everywhere. Maybe get Sacha Baron Cohen to play the part, I don’t know.
Surely there’ll be the HDDCS-type Hindustani musician, under whose tutelage our Musician learns. And his first wife is his teacher’s daughter.
Then there can be a Mohiniattam dancer?
And then a jazz singer from New Orleans?
A heavymetal guitarist in Norway?
A Khmer singer who meets her grisly end in the Killing Fields?
A Tuvan whose wants to follow in her family’s tradition of throat singers, but is not allowed to because she is a girl, but then finds success in the west?
This would totally make for a book in the style of Rushdie’s Ground Beneath Her Feet, and if it can be written without trivia and references and nods for the sake of trivia and references and nods, it’d be wonderful.
Would be great to start off the book at the singer’s deathbed, with all his children coming in from all over the world to see him (or not), and go backwards from there.
Plus, it’d be interesting to explore what a father or the lack thereof means in all these different cultures, how a single mother is perceived, how these things change over the course of time.
Would be an interesting book. Someone do write it!