All 13 entries tagged Review
January 21, 2010
- The Road
I told the boy when you dream about bad things happening, it means you’re still fighting and you’re still alive. It’s when you start to dream about good things that you should start to worry.
To say that John Hillcoat’s The Road is emotionally hard-hitting is something of an understatement. As someone who hasn’t read the Cormac McCarthy novel on which the film is based, I wasn’t too sure what to expect. The words “post-apocalyptic” have been bandied about, but contrary to immediate perceptions, this isn’t a film on a soapbox, bashing home a message about the potential near-future consequences of the way we’re living. Rather, it came across as a rather difficult examination of human nature, and what becomes of us when absolutely everything that constructs our lives is ripped away. The simplistic but all too real separation of “good guys” and “bad guys”, with the grey that lies in-between, and the terrible decisions people make when balancing survival with suffering.
The performances by Viggo Mortensen and Kodi Smit-McPhee as father and son were great, drawing you in to their relationship and their individual struggles. My favourite thing about the film, however, was the cinematography. The bleakness of the landscapes seemed to bleed off the screen, the familiarity of the various settings creating unease as they were presented in a very unfamiliar context.
As long as you can handle the powerful themes of misery and futile struggles, I definitely recommend The Road. But do make sure there’s something light-hearted available to cheer you up when you get home.
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/zgwx
- The Streets of Bollywood 3
The word remix often strikes fear into the hearts of Bollywood music fans, terrified that an unknown DJ will have destroyed their favourite film tracks. With names such as Rishi Rich and Hunterz on the credits of The Streets of Bollywood 3, however, you could be forgiven for thinking that on this occasion things were in safe hands.
Unfortunately, it is partly this presumption that makes the album so disappointingly underwhelming. It begins promisingly, with It Can Only Be Love, Rishi Rich’s take on a Bollywood love song, ably assisted by Mumzy on added vocals, but things quickly deteriorate. Kami K’s lyrical contributions are entirely devoid of any imagination, Hunterz appears to have phoned in his performances without any effort or verve, and the eight tracks which are not produced by Rishi Rich seem to be little more than thudding RnB beats rather perfunctorily employed over Bollywood melodies.
The album sleeve rather annoyingly pays no tribute to the original composers of the tracks sampled, or the films from which they are taken – a definite faux pas if they are attempting to appeal to the Bollywood market, and also a mistake if they are attempting to open up Bollywood to the urban market.
The title of this album implies that the music producers have done something new and interesting with Bollywood favourites, to make them more accessible to an urban audience perhaps. Yet one soon longs to hear the original songs in their unadulterated forms. The only positive is the opening track, thanks to Rishi Rich’s unsurpassed ability for music production alongside Mumzy’s excellent voice. But in all honesty, any listener will find plenty of that on one of Rishi or Mumzy’s own albums.
Bollywood fans should stay well away from this compilation as they will most probably despair at the treatment some old classics and modern favourites have been given. Those wanting a more urban sound should look up some of Rishi Rich’s earlier remix work, which far outshines this poor effort.
One can only hope “The Streets of Bollywood 4” is not lurking around the corner.
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/hzb6
- Paa - Ilaiyaraaja
The film Paa was attracting attention well before the release of its soundtrack, with Bollywood fans curious to see how Amitabh Bachchan, arguably India’s biggest film star, could possibly be playing the on-screen child of his real-life son, Abhishek. It is probably no bad thing that intrigue has been drawing audiences to the cinema, as this music is unlikely to be an incentive.
The album features moments which are pleasant enough – the rather sweet vocals of Shilpa Rao on Mudhi Mudhi Ittefaq Se, for example – but disinterest begins to set in before long, and nothing quite shakes that away. Other highlights, Udhi Udhi Ittefaq Se and Gali Mudhi Ittefaq Se, follow a single, pleasant melody but are let down badly by poor arrangements which lend an air of cruise ship dinner music. Equally disappointing work is evident on the tracks Gumm Summ Gumm and Hichki Hichki, which do nothing to overcome their average qualities, and the less said about Mere Paa the better. Perhaps Amitabhji’s almost incomprehensible vocals on the track make more sense in the context of the film, but as a piece of music it is simply inane.
It seems surprising that the soundtrack to Paa is so very unimaginative, considering the pedigree of the music director, Ilaiyaraaja. With a classically trained background and over 900 scores under his belt, he is a stalwart of the Tamil film industry and a recipient of an Indian National Film Award for his compositions. His music has even crossed global divides, with samples used by M.I.A. and The Black Eyed Peas for their respective albums Kala and Elephunk.
Bollywood film soundtracks are often intended as teasers to the film, released beforehand to engage the interest of filmgoers. It is unlikely this underwhelming effort will achieve that desired effect for Paa, and it is almost certain that this collection will not remain in the minds of music lovers for very long.
January 17, 2010
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/4p28
- Billo Rani - Malkit Singh
To know of Malkit Singh does not require much knowledge of bhangra music. With over 20 studio albums under his belt and over 20 years of touring in countless countries, he is the tour de force who has taken Punjabi music worldwide, and helped to cement bhangra as an internationally recognised sound.
Even those with no experience of bhangra whatsoever may recognise Singh, through the track Jind Mahi. The song was popularised by its use in the immensely successful Bend It Like Beckham soundtrack.
Even with such a colourful catalogue behind him, the opening track of Billo Rani, Nach Billo, is unexpected – it’s a duet between Singh and Mumzy Stranger. But the combination of the former’s traditional Punjabi style and the latter’s RnB leanings works surprisingly well, and the Rishi Rich-produced number is easily a highlight of this set. Things soon progress to a more recognisable bhangra sound, though, with almost all of the remainder of the album reverting to the style Singh’s most loved for. The sole exception is second collaboration with Rishi and Mumzy, final track Saari Raat Nachava.
You do not have to be a fan of bhangra or a speaker of Punjabi to appreciate that the vocal style involved requires an immense quality of tone and a high level of control. This album makes it quite apparent that Singh has both of these in spades – he possesses a superb voice that draws you in with its genuine warmth. Fan or not, it’s easy to understand his popularity and the success which lead him to receive his MBE in the Queen’s 2008 New Year Honours.
All the tracks on this album are competently put together without sounding over-produced, and showcase Singh’s voice wonderfully. It may not, however, win any converts to bhangra. While there is no doubting the high quality of what is on offer, only Nach Billo, Paundah Bhangra and Saari Raat Nachava are really accessible enough to be re-visited by those unfamiliar with the genre.
Billo Rani is sure to appeal to all lovers of bhangra, with its simple recipe of excellent vocals and effective production – but it won’t necessarily be bringing new listeners to the fold.
November 22, 2009
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/g84z
- London Dreams - Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy
Shankar Mahadevan, Ehsan Noorani and Loy Mendonsa began composing together in the late 1990s, coming to prominence with Farhan Akhtar’s Dil Chahta Hai in 2001. Since then, as Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, the trio has scored dozens of films to both critical and popular acclaim. Their latest offering is the soundtrack to director Vipul Shah’s London Dreams.
There is a lack of the instant musical impact that you would expect from the composers who have given us albums as diverse as Rock On! and Kal Ho Na Ho. That said, the record endears itself on re-visiting and listeners will no doubt find themselves singing along to the pounding Barson Yaaron and smiling at the beautiful lilt of Khwab.
One of the most notable features of this album is the lack of any female vocals – unsurprising, as the film revolves around a male rock band. It is, in fact, the excellent use of strong male voices that makes each of the eight tracks a great listen. In particular, Vishal Dadlani, Roop Kumar Rathod, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and Mahadevan himself all excel themselves with performances that are powerful, uplifting and soulful in turn.
The wordsmith, Prasoon Joshi, deserves a mention, not because he has penned stunning poetry, but because he has almost entirely steered clear of a growing penchant in Bollywood for the use of inane English lyrics. Other than a couple of glib references to the title of the film, all we hear is lyrical Hindi.
To the uninitiated, Bollywood music can often seem overly dramatic, due to the nature of its purpose. The true test is whether the songs stand apart from their associated film as quality pieces of music in their own right. In this case, all the tracks pass resoundingly. London Dreams may not be Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy at their best, but it still outshines many other recent Hindi film releases, and is a thoroughly enjoyable listen.
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/reviews/5jb6
- Swami - 53431
The collective known as Swami was formed in 1997 by brothers Simon and Diamond Duggal. The latter is the only remaining original member, nowadays known mainly by his pseudonym of DJ Swami.
53431 – tilt the numbers to make out the name Swami – is a tagged as the Birmingham group’s greatest hits, taking tracks from previous releases such as DesiRock and Equalize. The band’s name is an abbreviation of “So Who Am I?” It’s a question the album seems to be asking itself – and one which it answers with flair.
On paper, the sheer number of genres tied together in this collection shouldn’t work – bhangra, electronica, drum and bass, dhol beats, soaring vocals and MC lyrics to name but a few. Yet to the ears it’s simply a marvel. Certain tracks stand out above others, as is often the case with compilation affairs. Electro Jugni, with its unforgiving bassline, gives the album a pounding start and the anthemic DesiRock recycles a Bollywood riff in the best possible way. Hey Hey seamlessly combines soulful female vocals in English, earthy male vocals in Punjabi, a toe-tapping beat and a jazzy horn accompaniment that Mark Ronson would do well to take a cue or two from. And if that weren’t enough, Homage marries a classical Indian undertone with the sort of dirty dance track that would make The Prodigy green with envy.
To anyone concerned that a greatest hits collection may somehow spell an ending, fear not: DJ Swami and company tease us with two brand new tracks. The bittersweet, aptly named Sugarless, is full of attitude, and Tonight features soulful vocals underpinned by electronic synth.
The line-up of Swami has undergone many changes over the years, but there’s a consistency to the quality of music despite their evolution. To call them a bhangra band doesn’t really do justice to what they’re capable of delivering; they appear to have almost invented an entirely new type of sound, rooted in India but branching far beyond with ease. And this album not only celebrates all of Swami’s musical achievements to date, but provides the promise that they still have originality to offer.
August 28, 2009
- Adha Cup
“A stylish black and white comedy in Urdu featuring Rez Kempton and Ace Bhatti as Ash and Shahid, two lazy and bored social workers who reluctantly agree to reunite the cast of a legendary amateur Bollywood musical, Pappa Kehta Hain, to be restaged at the Pakistan Centre where they work.
In their search for the old cast members, they encounter a singing barber, a villainous butcher and an over-acting taxi driver, and along way they reconnect with their enthusiasm for life, love and family.
But unless they can track down the elusive hero, Sajid Hussain, the show can’t go on…”
So says the blurb on the Channel 4 website, but before it had even aired, the short film Adha Cup (Half a Cup) was already attracting some controversy. Anyone who has listened to the BBC Asian Network this week will have heard some of the debate on Nikki Bedi and Nihal’s shows. If you haven’t, update yourself: www.bbc.co.uk/asiannetwork
Despite being put off by some of what I’d heard, I bit the bullet and watched Adha Cup on 4OD on Wednesday night. At its heart, it is a very clever piece of drama which manages to convey a lot in 24 minutes. I think that they succinctly and wittily said some very accurate things about Asian communities, the way we function and our unique love of cinema and drama, which I’m sure is unparalleled.
Unfortunately, these wonderful positives just serve to make the poor language skills of the two leads all the more apparent. My reasoning for why that failing makes such an impact on the film has nothing to do with the marketing (although I do believe it was false advertising to call it an ‘Urdu drama’). Everything about the piece wanted us to feel like we were just following these two friends as they tried to do something for their community, peeping in on family life, watching them meet everyday people.
But everything that came out of their mouths felt so unnatural that nothing really rang true. I’d like to draw a comparison that some people may find unfair (and somewhat biased) – but think about how Zainab and Masood talk to each other on EastEnders. English, accented on Zainab’s part, with some Urdu thrown in every now and again. I’m sure that many of us will associate that mix of languages as the natural way we speak in our homes – if the programme makers wanted to cast those particular actors then that’s the format they should have gone for. Otherwise they needed to cast proper Urdu speakers. I only understand Urdu because I speak Hindi as my third language: I can’t imagine what true Urdu-speakers thought of Adha Cup’s linguistic efforts.
I have to commend the premise behind this piece of work, and applaud those who commissioned it – it’s just a shame it didn’t live up to its potential.
April 27, 2009
On Saturday I went to the late show of Shifty, and I’m so glad I did. It’s a performance-driven film, with outstanding turns by Daniel Mays, Nitin Ganatra and Riz Ahmed, who plays the title character. There’s something unsettlingly ordinary about the tone of the script, which essentially follows a pair of reunited friends who wander around a fictional London suburb as the drug-dealing Shifty goes about his daily business. For me, it really brought home the point that the use of illegal substances lives on all of our doorsteps. The unanswered question of why Chris left London four years previously gives an undercurrent for the story to travel on, and just as you get comfortable with the plodding pace of events, something comes in to take it up a notch without being excessive – an argument, a chase, a tidbit of information about the back-story.
Although I had figured out the final twist before the end, I still enjoyed this snapshot of a world that most of us would like to forget about. The impact as I left the cinema came from the simplicity of the message this film delivered in its matter-of-fact way: just one day in the life of a small-time drug-dealer, but so many broken lives and fractured relationships.
“24 hours to deal yourself out”, so says the film’s tagline – but this clever piece of cinema shows all too painfully how it’s never that easy.
January 23, 2009
Just read this interesting review from an Indian journalist on the BBC News website:
The point I’d add is – why is everyone looking at Slumdog Millionaire like it’s something that’s supposed to change the world?
January 21, 2009
Yesterday evening I finally went to see Slumdog Millionaire, that film which has created a whirlwind around the cinema-going world. Did I like it? Yes, absolutely. I remember an interview with Danny Boyle where he said that his aim was to hurl us into the story with no time to acclimatise, and I really liked the unforgiving, unrelenting pace that carried you along all the way through. It was vibrant and fantastically shot, a visual treat that took you on a rollercoaster of emotions – intrigue, amusement, shock, sadness, anger, sympathy and (ultimately) joy. The soundtrack was outstanding – A.R. Rahman has been deservedly recognised; I’m particularly happy about the music because if I’m honest a lot of his recent work had underwhelmed me.
The performances were very good, not least from the three young actors playing the protagonist, Jamal. We all know that Dev Patel plays the Jamal we first meet, sitting in the chair on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? aged 18; but as the film progresses, we are carried on Jamal’s journey, seeing younger versions of him as we discover not only how he knows the answers to the questions, but also how and why he ended up in that chair. I loved Dev in Skins and I was very impressed with his performance in Slumdog too – he’s likeable, charming, funny and sweet. But there was one thing that niggled – his accent. I don’t know enough about voice coaching in the acting world to make an informed comment, but perhaps he could have done with some more training. For a boy who’d grown up on the streets of Bombay and Agra the anglicised accent just didn’t sit properly with the character, and there were occasions when I could barely tell he was supposed to be Indian. It’s a real shame because there’s nothing else about him I could fault at all! Having said that, I’m afraid I think that he was a little bit upstaged by the younger actors, especially Tanay Hemant Chheda who played the middle Jamal. There was something about his protrayal of Jamal that I felt captured the quality of being both innocent yet older than his years – I hope we see some more of him in the future.
So, I can safely say that I enjoyed Slumdog Millionaire. But was it worth all the hype? Hmm, perhaps not. I’m not trying to belittle any of its successes or accolades; I’m just trying to put the surrounding furore into perspective. There have been reviews that have suggested that this film is a tribute to Mumbai, and contrasting ones that say that it shows the city as a terrible place – I don’t think it is either. Yes, it shows parts of life that most of us wish didn’t happen, but there’s no denying that all cities have their dark parts; and it also doesn’t show Mumbai as the most wonderful place in the world. What it does is use the city as a colourful backdrop for a yarn well-told. I haven’t read Q & A, so I have no idea how well it was adapted from the novel, but the screenplay was well done – although I personally would have liked to see a lot more Hindi dialogue, because the sweeping use of English seemed a little false. We’re getting a lot better at accepting things in foreign languages (think Crouching Tiger or Pan’s Labyrinth) but we have a way to go.
To sum up Slumdog, the story is interesting but not perfect, the direction is wonderful but not flawless and the performances were engaging but not striking. Yet, whether I thought it worth the hype or not, I couldn’t help but let both sides of my heart swell with pride during the fabulous closing routine of this British-made tale of an Indian boy.