On Vinod Mehra and strings of pearls

I’m not sure exactly when I sort of gave up watching Hindi/Tamil movies. I used to be enthusiastic about them long back, but that was probably because in my teenage years, I was more indiscriminate than discerning in the heroes I liked. From Amitabh Bachchan to *shudder* Vinod Mehra (and pretty much anybody in between), they were all grist for my daydream mill, so to speak. I admit to Vinod Mehra with the greatest reluctance, and I honestly can’t imagine how I could have ever thought him personable. I mean, that overly hairy, pouter pigeon chest visible through the yawning gap of the shirt open to about the fifth button, not to mention the large showy medallion hanging there – eww. I totally blame my teenage hormones. They weren’t brainy. Or even classy. Sigh.

Anyway, the enthusiasm for Hindi and Tamil movies has long exhausted itself, mostly without my noticing, mostly unconsciously. (And by that I do not mean that I slept through the movies.) I only realised this after coming to the UK, when I discovered that I didn’t really miss not being able to watch the latest movies from India. (They weren’t and still are not available in my town – the nearest theatres that screen Indian movies are in Birmingham, about 70 minutes drive away.)

I guess I just don’t have the patience to sit through endless song sequences and fight scenes… plus the original Hollywood movies are easier to watch and take less time. But what really brought home the fact of my disenchantment with Hindi movies was watching “Lagaan” in Paris, four years after the movie was made. I hadnt even known what it was about! I don’t think I’d have watched it at all, had my friend and I not been too tired and footsore, after a day of relentless walking, to move a single step further than the movie theatre that we had come across. I’m sure we would have watched anything that was showing, and it was just happenstance that the movie was Lagaan. Four hours of bliss in a near-empty cinema theatre, without the need to move. That was one good movie!

Of late, though, I’ve begun to pick and choose movies to watch, after registering with a DVD-by-mail service. Mainly I’ve been picking out movies after reading their reviews on my favourite movie review blog - B Rangan's Blogical Conclusion. If he says it’s worth watching (despite the odd hiccup or few in plot or direction or possibly acting), I’m willing to give it a go. I have a list of about 20 movies so far, in both languages.

The first of the movies that Pete and I saw was Pachaikili Muthucharam* – not a bad movie, thinking about it. I was mighty excited to spot AND recognise Milind Soman (although confirmation was afforded only when the end credits came on).

So of course throughout the movie, in between telling Pete what was happening, I was going “Could it be Milind Soman? Does he even speak Tamil? Nah, it couldn’t be him. Or could it? Milind Soman? I think that’s Milind Soman. He LOOKS like Milind Soman. I wish I knew if it is Milind Soman” and so on, until I’m sure Pete was ready to throttle me. He didn’t, though. Possibly because he’s a patient man, and possibly because there wasn’t anyone else about to translate the movie dialogue.

And re not being entirely sure that it was Milind Soman, in my defence, he was so very hairy about the face and head that you couldn’t see much of his face at any given time. Actually it was his teeth (displayed in menacing smiles) that first made me realise that it might be Milind Soman, male supermodel. He also has the most gorgeous hair (on his head)! The facial hirsuteness I could have done without.

*Might as well confess that I didn’t even know what the movie title meant. I mean, I knew that Pachaikili meant “green parrot” but muthucharam was a mystery that was solved only after I asked a friend what it meant. String of pearls, apparently. I still don’t understand what “Green parrot, string of pearls” has anything to do with the movie content, though.