Nothing marvellous about Ms. Marvel
This review contains spoiler(s)
This review contains spoiler(s)
It’s difficult to explain the institutional infrastructure and the problems surrounding it to an audience that has little to no knowledge about the geo-political pulse of that nation. Add to it, the complexities of the racial identity politics and you have in hand, a full a splainer ready to precede a sitcom.
I recently read on Twitter that if a headline prompts a question, the answer is almost, always no. I believe it to be the case cause Twitter is the second-best source to gather information, news, and knowledge (second only to Wikipedia).
Thar, on Netflix, is not your usual Bombay film. For one, it does not subscribe to the standard stupidity of having an item number with the end credits rolling out on your screen. It takes guts for filmmakers today to walk past that cursory banger that is bound to play at every wedding and make the music in a trending reel. For other, there’s an equal amount of gloss as there is substance, that kinda balance is hard to get in the Netflix catalogue. With Thar, there is also a dearth of familiarity in everything you are used to seeing as a casual viewer of “content”. Bombay cinema hasn’t confidently ventured into this genre, with the exception of Sonchiriya (2019). I would say the director (Raj Singh Chaudhary) has balls the size of king Solomon to attempt this as a debut film, but I will try to keep my chatter civil.
I get a lot of raised eyebrows each time I share any Kardashian-related information. For the most part, people don’t associate a triple degree holder, one foot firmly in academia scholar with the KarJenners in seriousness. I get it as well, when I dropped the bomb on my advisor about writing a Ph.D. on Kim Kardashian in 2016, she flipped. She told me to take some time off and think, as though I had lost my mind (which, to be fair, graduate school and dissertation writing are notorious for anyway). What started as a joke (to me), turned into a full-blown culture studies phenomenon. I recall a conference being centered around KarJenners, celebrity, and reality TV culture (I missed the deadline to submit a pitch) and this is just in academia. Outside of our tiny bubble, the world was fully engrossed in watching Kim, momager Kris and Ye, taking the world by storm (actually Kylie took the world by Stormi but that’s a conversation for my gay friends and me). The Kardashians emerged as the biggest celebrity brand in the world with a net worth together that can make Jeff and Elon unionize with other billionaires to compete against the femme power of the sisters. Math isn’t my strongest strength and truth be told, any number of zeroes I add to their total net worth will not be accurate. The Kardashians and the Jenners are bigger than most of us.
The world around us took no time to get back to “normal” or whatever second hand, pale version of normalcy we are down to accepting today. Educational institutions are back to conducting classes on the ground, the kids are making merry in college lawns (so what if it’s 40 degrees out there?) and the OTT platforms have gone back to snooze mode sooner than we could anticipate.
The disclaimer offered by Sharmaji Namkeen before the film begins sets the tone; somehow the “extraordinary circumstances” of “unprecedented events” remind one of Covid-19. The expectations are set on a somewhat ominous note by explaining how two actors have rarely played one role and that we should be grateful to watch Paresh Rawal play the part that was left incomplete by the late Rishi Kapoor.
The first striking bit when you’re streaming Eternally Confused and Eager for Love (ECEL) will be the big struggle for characters to find correct labels for Ray. The overthinking, socially anxious protagonist denies being a virgin to his friends, denies asexuality to his mother, and denies coming out of the closet to his dad. Yet, he hesitates in letting his friends know that he is a virgin, ghosts on his date set up by his parents, and in a moment of vulnerability gets mildly aroused at the thought of wearing a condom for the first time. This new original on Netflix, co-produced by Tiger Baby Films and Excel Entertainment, could have easily gone with a press release including a line somewhere that dictated the viewer to know: “Ray, an urban Mumbai youth comes of age dealing with Asperger’s…” but they stuck around sans labels, and that worked. Respect where respect is due. Indian filmmakers are obsessed with overinforming their audience instead of leaving their audience to think for themselves. Thank you for believing in us, besties. Really appreciate it.
Documentaries are not everybody’s cup of tea. Documentaries trying to balance the scale between fact and fiction are certainly not for the masses. Yet, Drive To Survive on Netflix found the popularity and the reasons to grab the eyeballs. Being touted as responsible for bringing a new generation of the audience to the highest level of motorsport, the series was conceived keeping in mind attracting the American audience to the elite world of Formula One.
Fashion Mogul; businessman; gamechanger; doting father; greatest; toxic; bully; bipolar; crazy; God; Yeezy.
In publishing, “pulping” often refers to the act of destroying the available, unsold print run of books that is with the publishing house. While this may sound a bit dramatic, books are pulped all the time. Sometimes, it’s due to the defect in the printing stage, and in others, the stock is rejected by the publisher for it is deemed unfit to be sold and is thus, then, pulped.
For someone who keeps a close watch on trends online, I’m blissfully unaware of the film marketing and promotions that take place with projects in Bollywood. It’s usually only closer to the date that I get my claws all in and invested, if at all. Gehraiyaan didn’t offer me that choice. I was exposed to “Deepika Padukone’s” house style of marketing with compelling bytes and interviews and even a minor feud with a Z list microblogger celebrity, all of which was all over the internet and exchanged over one-on-one texts and DMs. For a brief moment, I was even all too invested in a dress she wore for a promotional event.
Murder mysteries are always a good idea. An Italian murder mystery is, somehow, an even better idea. Like me here, Salvo (Salvatore Ficarra) tries his best to convince his brother-in-law and technician colleague Valentino (Valentino Picone) to buy this theory and, in turn, peddles his favourite TV series, a fictional Italian murder mystery that he’s been binge-watching, “The Touch of the Killer” to his wife and his work colleague among others.
The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window is an obnoxious title to have. If you put aside the perversion to make someone work this hard to answer, “what did you stream this weekend?” and start referring to the series as “The Woman in the House” maybe we can take this conversation forward.
The first thing you need to know about Yellowjackets is that all the critics and entertainment writers around can’t seem to get enough of it.
How do you explain a series that you enjoyed but also did not enjoy at the same time? Yeh Kaali Kaali Ankhein (YKKA) hit that note for me. I found myself binging episodes like eating through a pack of cheese balls— flakey, cheesy, and oh so delicious— but plasticky and processed at the same time. For all their nutritional worth and the lack thereof, cheese balls aren’t healthy or in any way nurturing. YKKA is sort of manufactured in the same way. Great idea, spectacular product but somehow, not the healthiest choice. It helps fire the sense by feeding the need to binge watch something smart and fun but does it count as a good choice? I don’t know. I’m still in two minds.
When do you love your family the most? If Karan Johar is to be believed, then it's every day. You worship them daily and sing songs with them, and move to London overnight because you married out. If Ajitpal Singh is to be believed, you love them the most in the face of adversity or ten.
Imagine a crossover between Dil Dhadakne Do (2015) and Fleabag (2016-2019). The opulence of the Mehras and the chaos of Claire and her sister all at once with both the families together at a wedding, and later at a funeral. In one plot.
What does Emily in Paris have in common with my Tinder date from 2017? For the uninitiated, I fucking hate them both, and yet I keep going back to them.
Pre-lib Delhi is fondly looked at as a nostalgic idea to wank to— especially when you’re forlorn for happier times. There’s no doubting the fact that the 80s in Delhi is when the city truly peaked. Dil Bekaraar on Disney+ Hotstar gets the city, the anticipation for privatization and love blossoming over Maggi (sans Fanta) and Nirula’s ice cream right.