Befuddling Bonanza

Anyone watched this year's Filmfare Awards? Yes, they extended late into the night; yes they were swarmed excessively with advertisements. But they were rollicking fun. Lessons for hosting are to be learnt from nowhere beyond Shah Rukh Khan and Saif Ali Khan. Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin looked like graduation dropouts instructed to swallow some lines and vomit them with perfunctory pauses to elicit whatever kind of response from the crowds in the silence. Sheesh. The ceremony in itself was a letdown. No music and such insipid hosting from the leads. And wait, I haven't started off with the 'winners' yet.

The awards have already been dubbed furiously, for the first time with an overwhelming consensus among film critics and commentators worldwide, as among the worst in recent memory. I myself could not come to terms with the abominable quality after an hour and a half, and reverted to Physics and Chemistry. Watching the ceremony was harrowing, blasé and undeniably pointless after much persistence. Not to mention, the ceremony looked quite underfed on the glitz too. No adequate grandeur. The recession effect, maybe. This one too, rated R. Some respite, for viewers though, from Kathryn Bigelow and James Cameron—unquestionably the two best-dressed and best-looking people of the night. And we thought the battle of the exes was confined to the business end!

If the terribly inefficient deeds of the hosts to sustain our imagination and interest weren't sufficient, the vehemently unacceptable bombshells dropped every 20-30 minutes did little to befriend me. Christoph Waltz kicked off the night with a charming little address on winning his Best Supporting Actor Oscar, while a visibly cheerful Tarantino gloated on. Mo'Nique was supposed to effortlessly take home Best Supporting Actress, she did. Same with the makers of Up, for Best Animated Film. Some awards in the technical categories, which are supposed to be beyond dispute, are questionable too. Like Best Sound Editing and Best Sound Mixing for The Hurt Locker. Rubbish, there's hardly ANY noteworthy sound throughout the film, whereas other nominees like Avatar make optimum utilization of sound effects to add gild to the experience of the film. Inexplicable. Thankfully, the Academy wasn't confounded enough to deprive Avatar of Best Cinematography, Best Visual Effects and Best Art Direction. Best Film Editing was among the very few categories anointed to worthy contendors. The Hurt Locker is a lesson in film editing. Best Original Song and Best Original Soundtrack winners are perfectly acceptable too. The screenplay categories this time are what you'd call unpardonable shockers. Up In The Air was the worthiest in the Best Adapted Screenplay category, while the Best Original Screenplay always belonged to Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. You cannot work out reasons for some events. Intelligence fails.

As for the acting honours, I haven't myself seen either of the performances. Of what I gather, both performances occupy a considerable chunk of the screen time. Reminds me eerily of Anthony Hopkins who ran home with the Best Actor Oscar in 1991 for his impersonation of Hannibal Lecter. Mind you, he was on screen only 17 minutes throughout the film. Will we have repetitions of such instances ever again? Or will actors require the whole film to make a considerable impression of their acting pedigree? Normally, in the recent past, actors who've won the top prizes at the Oscars are those whose characters in the film are almost the only ones. Almost like a biopic. Crazy Heart follows the life of the awry, alcoholic country singer—which automatically puts the protagonist in contention of the Oscar. Same applied to Sean Penn in Milk last year too. Personally, I'd have liked to see Jeremy Renner or George Clooney pocket the Best Actor Oscar—two actors perfecting roles which weren't why the respective films were made. Once the character is above the film, it ceases to be a respectable film. And the actor portraying the character has an automatic contention for the top acting billings.

As for the top two honours, I've got a lot to say. Kathryn Bigelow winning Best Director for The Hurt Locker certainly isn't undeserving. Jason Reitman was refreshingly original and heartwarming with his treatment of Up In The Air, Tarantino was Tarantino with Inglourious Basterds. But Cameron's directorial outing this time around is epic. Here is a man who's given a decade of his life for the film, created the technology he required just for the film, transcended all hitherto conventional methods of film making, waited another few years for the equipment of 3D screens in majority of the theatres across the world before releasing film. The film is entirely a function of his effort, not the writers, not the actors, but him—and him alone. Cameron carries the film singlehandedly and paints a portrait so extravagant and lavish that any viewer shall be rendered spellbound, dumbstruck and speechless. If an effort as cantankerous and overwhelming as this cannot win Best Director, then I cannot think what can. Cameron, with his efforts for this film, has sure inspired many film makers around the world to set out to be innovative and larger-than-life.

In a somewhat similar stereotype, The Hurt Locker winning Best Picture isn't entirely undeserving either. It is a brilliantly made film, one every critic shall feast upon. It has its overwhelmingly blatant demerits too. Thought subtly, it is racial, it is imperialistic in its stand on War and Iraq, and it is a dreary documentary. It'll rank in my book among the many over rated films of our times. Sometimes, it seems a tedious watch too. Up In The Air is very close to a perfect film, while Inglourious Basterds is a sensational parody on some of the disturbingly unforgettable times during World War II. But the film of the year, film of the decade for me is Avatar. Those who say it ain't got a tale: Folks, get real. It is a simple tale. Essentially a quixotic love story, with several pragmatic messages fitted into the blockbuster experience. How much of a story has The Hurt Locker got? Actually, THAT is what you'd call a film with little story. Only the stone hearted will remain unmoved by Avatar through its length. It is a film which not just renders you awestruck but invokes high emotions within you, and makes you feel like you never have throughout your life. Watch it twice, once to get the once-in-a-lifetime experience. Second time, to relive it. Why do we go to the movies? Fundamentally to enjoy ourselves and have a pleasurable time. Avatar more than satisfies the criterion. Lest we forget, it changed the way movies are made. It is a phenomenal cinematic achievement, and that alone establishes its unshakable credentials. When we say 'Best Picture' why can't it simply mean the film that thrilled us the most? Or why can't it imply the film that radically changed cinema? Or the film that outdid orthodox cinema and gave it a whole new dimension? Why shouldn't the 'experience' value too be one of the parameters for judging the 'Best Picture'? End of the day, Avatar is the greatest grosser of all time. The Hurt Locker is the least grosser ever to win a Best Picture Oscar. That tells a thing or two about unanimous public opinion. Period. On the day, however, the best Cameron could do for his cause was to feign rallying hard for his ex-wife who gorgeously strutted onto the dais in a ramp she'll remember for the rest of her life, to become a little trend-setter herself.

Fifty years down the line, I'll remember 22^nd December 2009—the day I watched the game-changer in contemporary cinema. And yeah, assuming it's worth it, I guess I'll also remember one of the Academy's greatest screw-ups in the following year.