West Bank Story

Love that heals

Can romance blossom in the midst of aggression? And can that love between two individuals heal the pain of strife? West Bank Story, a musical comedy to be screened at Dubai International Film Festival addresses the issue

Simplistic. Shallow. Wacky. Belittling. Breezy. Frivolous. West Bank Story is bound to evoke mixed reactions. And there is one word which certainly wouldn't fit its premise: Profound.
Conceived by Ari Sandel to fulfil his MFA programme at the University of Southern California's School of Cinema and Television, West Bank Story has been the toast of many film festivals, alright.
But doesn't it tackle a very tricky situation and, in an effort to be wickedly funny, tend to trivialise biting, every-day realities?
The Wall isn't a joke for Palestinians. It is, apparently, for Sandel. The ignominy of frisking isn't funny for Palestinians. Looks like, it is for Sandel.
That, put above, is perhaps an unkind cut to what is essentially a student film, which tried to approach a grave issue with the least expected of tools: Music and comedy.
For people far removed from the Middle East crisis, perhaps the Romeo and Juliet adaptation in West Bank turf might appear a charming attempt at social satire. But will it curry favour among those exposed to the pain and misery of living with guns, barbed wires and bombs? Doubtful.
If you can shut out these realities and are willing to travel to a make-believe, mock-believe world of simplistic actions and reactions, yes, West Bank Story is 21 minutes of breezy viewing. Somehow West Bank Story demands that you take it all easy.
After all, you don't get to see Israeli soldiers falling in love with charming Palestinian waitresses elsewhere. You don't get to watch the entire Palestine crisis defragmented down to two rigid identities in the form of competing falafel restaurants, Hummus Hut and Kosher King. And surely, you won't get to watch "walls" coming up and going down because love triumphs over the rest.
Despite its satirical moorings, West Bank Story, however, manages to touch a chord — for a simple reason. You wish ardently that — love or not — these conflicts should be resolved, that peace should prevail. And here is an alternate take from Sandel, who is also billed to have an in-depth knowledge of Islam and Judaism.
But West Bank Story's proposed solution is the momentary peace of a hunger-satiated stomach. Sandel leaves you with a smack on your conscience for being gullible enough to believe him that love can heal.
(Spoiler alert). Hear the film's parting salvo: Muslims and Jews can live in harmony, yes, but only in Beverley Hills.
The film couldn't have held so well, technically or structurally, without its musical format. Perhaps, as is expressed in the title, the film is Sandel's tribute to the seminal West Side Story (1961) starring Richard Beymer and Natalie Wood.
Ben Newmark as David, the Israeli soldier, and Noureen DeWulf (seen in National Lampoon's Pledge This with Paris Hilton) as Fatima, the waitress, bring in the innocence of love-struck youngsters — and in their silent romance lies the only endearing truth of the film. The rest are frills — often drawn out to over-stress a point and drive home the satire.
Does West Bank Story make great cinema? Definitely not. Does it make good, easy viewing? Yes. And can it build bridges? Let's hope it would.
That is as kind as you can get with this film.
— Rajeev Nair


Box

West Bank Story
Cast: Ben Newmark, Noureen DeWulf, AJ Tannen, Joey Naber, Assaf Cohen
Music: Yuval Ron
Cinematography: Gavin Kelly
Editing: Avi Youabian
Written by: Kim Ray, Ari Sandel
Direction: Ari Sandel

Deewana Huye Paagal (Hindi - Audio)

Lyrics: Sameer
Music: Anu Malik
Film directed by Vikram Bhatt
T Series (QRC)
 
What happens when a music composer gets carried away by a false belief in his own vocal skills? The result is one tragedy of an audio compilation called Deewana Huye Paagal. Anu Malik needs an urgent restraint and the clutch of songs he so self-indulgently sings for the album is reason enough.
Trying his age-old stunts of recycling his own beats and melodies as well as seeking inspiration from his contemporaries, Malik is on his own trip here. And it is hardly inspiring stuff. For the fun film that Deewana Huye Paagal is Malik’s opening track that blends bhangra rhythm with hip-hop and rap is foot-tapping but the vocal interruptions by the composer are hardly impressive. He continues on the same vein with Meri Jane Jigar that opens fairly well as a well-composed melody but soon degenerates into another Malik show of limited vocal prowess. Malik also dons the Suthradhar’s hat for Vivek Oberoi. He tries hard to imitate Big B and of course fails.
A little relief comes with Shaan, Kunal Ganjawala and Krishna singing Aisi Umar Mein but the song is hardly a refreshing composition. And it is tiresomely long – the song would have suited some 80s flick with all those predominant retro Rock influences.
Malik takes centrestage again with Chakle Chakle that is remixed on the flip side. The song has some interesting interludes. After enduring another round of Suthradhar glib talk that gives away much of the film’s story-line, Malik gives way to Shaan and Sunidhi Chauhan for a foot-tapping number, which has rip-off elements scattered all over its body.
On the whole, Deewana Huye Paagal tries too hard to be sane and doesn’t really succeed. 

Bluffmaster (Hindi - Audio)

Bluffmaster
Music: Vishal Shekhar, Trickbaby, Arash, Aneela Mirza and Sameerudhin
Film directed by Ramesh Sippy
Vanilla Music
 
It doesn’t take too many aspiring composers to wreck a jewel of a song from the past. Bluffmaster proves it. Starting with Trickbaby’s remix version of the earthy, hearty song, Sabse Bada Rupaiyaah sung by Mehmood, the album tries hard to be different. And it shows. The songs seriously lack identity despite digging into the archives and bringing in all sorts of actors’ voices including that of Abhishek Bachchan’s into the sound track.
What is at best a naïve DJ’s wild attempt at getting the dancefloor kick-started, Bluffmaster starts to wear you down with clichéd DJ beats. And eventually the only winning track in the album is Arash’s Buro Buro, a Farsi number that is a chart-buster in Europe. So what is this pot-pourri of music mix-and-match trying to do? Make a statement? Flaunt an attitude? Either ways, the album has little recall value. It almost saddens to hear Mehmood’s voice trailing out from afar trying to stand out from the din caused by what Trickbaby believes is modern beats.
Say Na works because it doesn’t tamper with the formula of bhangra pop. The song is foot-tapping with the female singer imparting a distinct nasal tone – perhaps another deliberate effort to be different. Sameerudhin spins the Destiny remix, which is a perfect carbon copy of the retro, far-away sounds Bally Sagoo had successfully tried in his earlier remixes.
Vishal and Shekhar compose Right here, right now with Abhishek Bachchan and Sunidhi Chauhan on the vocals. Well Junior B doesn’t have the senior’s baritone; the song is rather flat-toned and at times irks with its contrived slow pace. On the flip side is a hip-hop mix. Trickbaby composes Nine Parts of Desire, which is more like a desi afterthought in a rock album. Why these pretensions please?
And so welcome the winner of the pack, Arash’s Buro Buro with some truly infectious Middle Eastern beats and easy-on-ears lyrics. Rock along - this one is going to ignite the charts. The flip side sustains the remix hangover with the composers cutting new versions of their own remixes.
Bluffmaster’s songs are ideal for the dancefloor and perhaps might work well on-screen. For sheer listening pleasure, it is hardly the right material.

Raajamanickam (Malayalam)

Mammootty rocks
 
Film Review
Raajamanickam
(Malayalam)
Cast: Mammootty, Manoj K Jayan, Salim Kumar, Sai Kumar, Rahman, Cochin Haneefa, Padmapriya, Sindhu Menon
Script: TA Shahid
Music: Alex Paul
Direction: Anwar Rasheed
 
More than Mammootty, the true hero of Raajamanickam is the unique “Thirontharam” slang of Malayalam language commonly spoken in southern Kerala. After successfully delivering the Kottayam slang for super-hits films like Kottayam Kunjachan, Mammootty freaks out with the Thiruvananthapuram dialect in the film, which otherwise has little else to showcase.
A very ordinary thriller, Raajamanickam derives its strength from the characterisation of Mammootty — his flashy costumes, loud mannerisms, and best of all, the rustic dialect. It isn’t unusual in Malayalam cinema to have the heroes deliver their lines with rustic intonations. Mammootty had earlier successfully worked out the dialect of the fishermen folk in Amaram. Mohanlal charmed audiences with his Trichur dialect in Thoovanathumbikal. Otherwise it was largely left to the comedians to raise laughter by mimicking the various dialects. Jagathi Sreekumar and Oduvil Unnikrishnan had attempted a celebration of the southern Kerala dialect to hilarious results in Mattuppetty Machaan.
But the beauty of Mammootty’s Bellary Raja, a buffalo dealer, in Raajamanickam is not merely in the way he flashes rustic usages with flourish. It is in his overall body language, which has relaxed considerably. He effectively replicates the “azhagiya Raavanan” (pompous) effect yet lending respect to the character. The end-result is a breezy entertainer that offers undiluted fun.
There has little novelty value to the story. A mother denies love and recognition to her son out of compulsions that aren’t clearly delineated; the boy walks into the wide world and makes it big. Giving the film a twist, the son doesn’t return to his village on his free will. He has been entrusted the care of all properties by his step-father, who dies a painful death after his own son and daughter turn against him for petty gains. The hero thus finds himself aligned against not only his step-brother but also his childhood foes. How he metes out revenge for his step-father’s death and also fulfils his wishes make the film.
But the wafer-line plot gets abundant cinematic strength thanks to the debutant director’s understanding of cinema as a medium that ought, first, to communicate not confuse. There are clearly drawn out characters; there are no ambiguous ends. Nor is there any doubting that the hero is out there to play second fiddle to anyone.
And thus Raajamanickam becomes an unabashed celebration of Mammootty, who rocks with his style, confidence and attitude. There is no doubt that Mohanlal could have delivered the Thiruvananthapuram slang better (in fact, Mammootty, on at least two counts, finds his lingo moving the Amaram way). But Bellary Raja is made for Mammootty. While Mohanlal’s easy charm would have given it a different identity, it is the almost awe-inspiring and imposing presence of Mammootty that gives the character that extra dimension.
In the supporting cast, enough opportunity is given for Rahman and Bheeman Raghu to strike a chord with the audience. But it is Manoj K. Jayan who stands up to Mammootty and delivers another memorable performance. The immensely talented guy has truly reinvented is career. Sai Kumar, despite the television hangover and theatrics, is impressive.
The only handicap with the southern lingo is that it doesn’t pack a punch when it comes to sentiments, which explains the mad rush by the serial makers to feature the Valluvanadan dialect in their productions. Mammootty indeed struggles with the diction in the few sentimental moments and he unintentionally slips into over-acting mode. But that is minor blemish in an otherwise stellar performance meant to do nothing else but entertain.
Watch Raajamanickam. Have a good laugh.