[This very long blogpost is a transcript of an interview with the great director Kanti Shah, director of the legendary Mithun-da movie "Gunda". And yes this interview is a work of fiction: it has no resemblance to any person---living or dead or seriously sick. I also have no connection with Kanti Shah or the production house of Gunda. ]
Continue reading ‘Gunda—the Legend’
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5 seconds into a Mithun-da song: The guitarists wield their instruments like phallic objects.
Continue reading ‘Deconstructing Prabhu Leela’
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You learn something everyday. Being an ardent fan of Prabhuji Mithun, I thought I knew most of what there was to know about him.
I was wrong.
I did not know there was a high-demand variety of powerful bulls named after Mithun-da.
Continue reading ‘No BullShit’
ShareInspired by Frans Johansson’s “The Medici Effect” with its theme of how innovation can be made to happen by mixing disparate cultural influences in unusual ways, I have decided to unleash the Greatbong signature line of clothing, a heady cocktail of Mithunism, voodoo art, intellectual bankruptcy and the desire to make a buck.
Frankly the need to get into the garment design industry is something I have felt for long—the world desperately craves for a line of fashion that appeals to an alternate aesthetic, apparel that pokes you in the eye with a statement, a collection of garments that cry out “This IS me”, a force of nature that does to the “Gandhi” penstroke and the Che-Bob Marley T-shirt design what Attila the Hun did to the Roman Empre.
Continue reading ‘The Greatbong Fashion Line’
Share[This post has some video clips (each less than 2 minutes) I uploaded to Youtube. You need to keep "sound on" to appreciate them to the fullest extent]
Agar tujhe halwa khana hain, to tujhe dance karna parega. Dance dance.
–Dance Dance
I love dance. Indian movie dance specifically, not the ta-thaiiya classical stuff. I am way too much of a Philistine to understand the subtle interplay between Abhinaya, Laya and Ang. Accepted.
But of late I have become jaded by the endless stream of remixes, item numbers and special appearances all of which feature girls who are virtually indistinguishable from each other, possessing unrealistic curves, wearing little more than lingerie dancing under flashing lights or pouring rain.
Jaded yes. By the mind-numbing predictability. And by the sheer disconnect the moves of the dancers have with those of real-life folk —you, me, Sujata auntie and Probir uncle.
Continue reading ‘Dance Dance’
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R