Yeh Ballet, or: Fair Plié

Sometimes my brain can predict perfectly when an inspiring, feel-good film will be exactly the ticket. Possibly because, lately, there’s never been a time when I haven’t needed a bit of a lift. Either way, I’d like to take the time to say good call, brain.

I’m not sure why, but films about ballet have a special power to inspire me and break my damn heart. As a child, I quit ballet even faster than I quit soccer, so there are no fond memories there. But I can’t help admire the quiet strength and beautiful grace of ballet dancers, especially when it means shaking up the status quo in all of the best ways as it does in this week’s film.

The Film:

Yeh Ballet

The Premise:

Two young men in modern day Mumbai pursue a love of ballet despite discouragement from their loved ones, an emotionally volatile teacher, and significant financial obstacles.

The Ramble:

In a Mumbai slum, teen breakdancer Asif dreams of a life where his family isn’t barely scraping by. Rebellious and always seeking out a party, Asif shakes his unruly hair all around during Holi. The problem? His strict religious uncle is keen to remind Asif that they are Muslim, and participating in a Hindu festival is highly inappropriate.

Lacking the funds–and the freedom–to pursue his love for dance, the closest Asif can get to making a career of his passion is through watching a reality show competition on TV.

One of the competitors on the show is another aspiring dancer, Nishu. Though eliminated from the competition, Nishu manages to snag the audience favorite award, the Hat of Destiny. When he learns of a prestigious dance school run by a famous American, Nishu is eager to attend. However, Nishu’s parents disapprove of this non-traditional career path and worry he won’t be able to provide for his ailing sister in the future.

Through lies and omissions, both Asif and Nishu end up as students in the dance school. The boys dislike each other instantly, and fare no better with the instructor Saul, who turns out to be a total diva. In his rebellious, impulsive style, Asif manages to earn the teacher’s attention after literally tripping him up in the hallway. Asif certainly has style, but does he have the discipline to follow through in learning a new art form: ballet?

Meanwhile, Nishu takes the hardworking nerd approach, asking a classmate to catch him up on all of the ballet moves others have already learned. Nishu grows more and more skilled, but Saul doesn’t have the time or interest in anyone but Asif.

For his part, Asif faces setbacks as his friends tease him relentlessly about his new hobby. Tragedy strikes when a friend dies suddenly in a gang-related incident, for which Asif blames himself. Faced with this wake-up call, Asif vows to commit himself fully to ballet, dedicating the time and focus needed to truly learn and hone the art.

Nishu’s problems also escalate after his father discovers where his college fund has really been going. When his parents kick him out of the house, Nishu agrees to be the school’s unpaid custodian in exchange for a stay in a creepy windowless basement (which includes utilities, aka a bucket of water collected from the building’s A/C unit).

Further complications arise when Asif falls for a Hindu girl whose family disapproves of his Muslim faith. Meanwhile, Nishu’s sister’s condition worsens and she ends up in the hospital.

Things start to look up when Saul insists Asif move in to train 24/7 for US ballet school auditions, with Nishu as a chaperone. The arrangement could be beneficial to both boys…if they’d stop fighting long enough to recognize it. However, even if the two dancers do manage to gain acceptance to a program, can they afford to go? And will the States even let them into the country to pursue their dreams?

The Rating:

4/5 Pink Panther Heads

I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again: damn, Holi looks so fun. Maybe not right now. But in other, non-pandemic times.

The rest of the film is just as fun, full of energy, hope, and some killer dance moves. While the concept of the movie sounds a bit like Slumdog Millionaire meets Billy Elliott, it has managed to carve out a space with its originality and heart, plus challenging of traditional gender norms. Our story looks into the lives of characters in extreme poverty, but it never takes a condescending or overly romanticized approach to their challenges. And approximately the last half made me cry my fucking eyes out.

There’s added interest here in the social and religious commentary of the film–first, the religious clashes between Hindus and Muslims in India, as well as the use of religion to police others’ decisions. The States’ immigration policies get an examination from this film, as well as the idea that bringing in a white man adds authority to any endeavor in former colonies. Saul never really gets that his abysmal behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in any other context, but he’s experiencing some serious white privilege in India.

While I’ve neglected Asif’s love interest, who is a fairly minor character, she brings an energy to the film that I just love. A tough breakdancer in her own right, Asha is stubborn without being an infuriating rom-com stereotype. Would absolutely watch a spin-off (no pun intended) about her.

Honestly, though, it’s the journey Asif and Nishu experience that makes this film compelling: both individually and as reluctant friends. I wish they had been friends a bit earlier on in the film as it’s so sweet when they do finally stick up for each other. On the bright side, to me this means one thing only: Yeh Ballet 2: 2 Fast, Tutu Furious MUST be in the works.

Would my blogging/dance partner twirl with this one or deliberately step on its toes? Find out in her review here!

Mubarakan, or: Wife Swap

I’m unemployed and don’t have a place to live beyond mid-August; what I mean to say here is that, rather than host a pity party, it’s the perfect time for impeccably choreographed dance numbers, glittering costumes, and a dizzying number of love triangles. That’s right—it’s the first ever Bollywood month on the Blog Collab!

The Film:

Mubarakan

The Premise:

Identical twin brothers raised separately plan to marry their girlfriends despite family disapproval and the disastrous attempts of their uncle to help.

The Ramble:

On a dark night in England in 1990, twin babies Charan and Karan survive a car crash that kills both of their parents. Their uncle Kartar is guardian of the two boys…until he realizes the whole parenting thing isn’t really his cup of tea. The boys go their separate ways; Karan to be raised by his aunt Jeeto in London, and Charan in Punjab by his uncle Baldev.

From even our opening song-and-dance number, it’s clear that Charan is the good Punjabi boy (and devout Sikh), while Karan is the flashy bad boy. Though far apart in location and in personality, the now grown twins are on the same page when it comes to settling down. Karan is ready to marry his girlfriend of two years, Sweety. Unfortunately, Sweety makes a dismally poor impression when meeting Aunt Jeeto, and Karan decides to hold off on his news.

Meanwhile, Uncle Baldev has arranged an engagement for Karan to Binkle, the daughter of a influential man. Determined to get out of the arrangement, Karan suggests it’s his brother Charan who should marry Binkle. Complications abound as Charan himself is eager to marry his girlfriend Nafisa, a Muslim woman he fears the family won’t accept.

After arriving at Uncle Kartar’s extravagant Mini Punjab in England, Charan does little to hide his dismay at his impending engagement. Due to the influential nature of Binkle’s family, Charan cannot back out of the arrangement; however, Kartar helps his nephew scheme to meet with disapproval. Kartar’s best plan is for Charan to pretend to be a drug addict. Of course, nothing could possibly go wrong here.

When Charan meets Binkle, she’s a total sweetheart and he’s instantly smitten. Though he changes his mind on his uncle’s questionable plans, it’s too late–when Binkle’s brother accuses Charan of drug abuse, a major dispute erupts, pitting the twins’ families against each other. To save face, Baldev vows he will see Charan married within one month, even if the engagement to Binkle has fallen through.

Now that Baldev is determined to make such a quick engagement, the time seems right for him to coincidentally meet Nafisa. If she charms Charan’s uncle, it should be easy for the two to become engaged. However, Baldev mistakes Nafisa for Karan’s girlfriend and, besides, is less than dazzled by her personality. Rather than Nafisa, Baldev has another young lady in mind for Charan…none other than Sweety! More than a little irked with Karan, Sweety agrees to the engagement. Just like that, not one, but TWO weddings are in the works, set for December 25th in London.

Please share my confusion over this dance number featuring a group of back-up dancers dressed in LA Lakers jerseys…?

What follows is scheme after scheme, each one ending in its own spectacular disaster. With the weddings fast approaching, the only option left seems to be elopement. Kartar is all for this until he is haunted by a dream of his late brother, who reminds him of the shame this will bring to the family. Done with elaborate plans, Kartar insists the young couples leave their fate in God’s hands. Will divine intervention bring about a happy end where mortal means have failed?

The Rating:

3/5 Pink Panther Heads

Oh my GOD, this film did not need to be 2 1/2 hours. After a while, all of the schemes feel repetitive and–sorry for the spoiler–the ending of the film doesn’t exactly defy expectations. Also, the potential for comedic mistaken identity is grossly underutilized considering our main characters are IDENTICAL TWINS.

I will concede that the cast here is great. Anil Kapoor as Kartar is a standout, and I love that he’s basically living the dream that I imagine all people of nations colonized by white people share: lavishing in a country estate with a white servant at his beck and call. Arjun Kapoor is also impressive considering he plays both main roles in this lengthy feature, quite often conversing with himself and occasionally mirroring his own dance moves.

Fun fact for my fellow clueless white people: there is a LOT of English in this film, with actors switching back and forth between Hindi, Punjabi, and English within the same sentence. I had to Google this, but it’s apparently a thing in a lot of Bollywood films since English is such a ubiquitous and, er, cool(?) language.

One of the few Bollywood films I’ve seen is Bride & Prejudice, and this film reminded me of why the Bollywood adaptation of Austen worked so well (see also: colonization. Again). Mubarakan, like much of Austen, is very much a comedy of manners, responding to rather strict expectations surrounding marriage and the discouragement of openly discussing romantic love. The couples in this film balance their feelings of love with the conflicting demands of family, duty, and restraint–plus there’s more dancing than you can shake a stick at.

Would my lovely blog wife accept a proposal from our film or shun it for the shame it has brought upon the family? Read her review here to find out!

Margarita with a Straw, or: La La La La Lai-la

I can’t believe we’re already starting to wrap up the Summer of Love, AKA Gay July.  This week’s film tells a story we usually don’t see on film about a young woman from India with cerebral palsy learning to love ladies, guys, and herself.

The Film:

Margarita with a Straw

The Premise:

A young Indian woman with cerebral palsy studies abroad in New York, where she develops her sense of self, interest in Apple products, and sexual identity.

The Ramble:

Laila is a young Indian woman living with her music-loving family:  dad who always sings off-key, brother constantly making snide remarks, and problem-solving mother who can seemingly do anything.  As a woman with cerebral palsy, Laila gets around in a wheelchair, hangs with her bestie Dhruv at school, and is never caught without a trusty (controversial?) plastic straw.  Laila is almost always smiling and happy, but she hides her feelings of insecurity and shame about her disability behind this facade.

Though she doesn’t play an instrument, Laila loves music and writes lyrics for her band.  She’s somewhat confused when she finds herself attracted to two different members of the band, one of whom happens to be female.  It’s ultimately the lead singer, Nima, who Laila decides is the man of her dreams until she is rejected.  Not only that, but her band wins the top prize at a competition, which the announcer says to her face is because of her disability.

Too ashamed and discouraged to return to her school, Laila eagerly accepts her mother’s solution:  go to NYU and study creative writing on the scholarship she has recently earned.

During her first class, Laila’s instructor assigns a student to help her type and take notes.  She initially declines help…until she realizes her assistant will be a rather attractive blonde Brit.

Soon after, Laila is in for a shock when she happens across a protest against police violence.  As the protest intensifies, the police shut it down with tear gas, leaving behind Laila and another girl, Khanum.  A rebel with parents from Pakistan and Bangladesh, Khanum is blind and very interested in Laila.

As the girls explore the city together, Laila becomes attracted to Khanum, and they begin a relationship in secret.  While Khanum is out and secure in her identity, Laila feels less certain and has absolutely no desire to have that conversation with her family.  Laila’s mother has no clue the girls are more than friends when they decide to move in together.

Though Laila loves Khanum, she is still attracted to Jared, her British assistant.  After impulsively sleeping with him, Laila keeps this a secret.  Probably for the best as both Laila and Khanum have been invited to spend the holidays with her family.

Inevitably, drama ensues.  Laila decides now is the time to be honest on all fronts, revealing her bisexuality to her mother and hook up with Jared to Khanum.  None of this goes well, but everything is put on hold when a much bigger family crisis emerges.

The Rating:

3.5/5 Pink Panther Heads

I really love that this film was made–Laila is not a character we see too often on screen.  She feels like a very real character rather than the improbably saintly figure who triumphs over adversity that characters with disabilities often become.  Though she’s optimistic, Laila does feel insecure about how others perceive her disability.  Importantly, she makes mistakes that are frustrating at times but allow her to experience growth as a character.  Despite some of her questionable choices, it’s impossible not to root for Laila.

The character of Khanum is also excellent–what a badass.  She makes the whole Jared situation extra frustrating because he’s so fucking dull by comparison.  Her romance with Laila feels organic, though the main love story in this film is that of Laila with herself.  The relationship between Laila and her mother feels real too; it’s a beautiful relationship, but it’s not perfect.  Both women have emotional limitations that prevent them from connecting at times.

Biggest complaint here is the absence of a musical number about sexuality in the tradition of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.

Would my blog wife join the protest with this one or fly to New York just to get away from it?  Find out in her review here!

Lion, or: Goodbye, Feelings

This month’s theme (essentially “Hey, this film made me think of you”) has unintentionally been the ultimate exercise in trust.  “Hey, let’s watch this emotional sucker punch of a film because I know how much you like a good reminder of how broken your feelings are” is one interpretation of this week’s pick.  However, I believe the intention with Lion is along the lines of “Hey, I know you like films with a realistic yet affirming story and rich emotional complexity, plus Nicole Kidman’s cool.”

/Also I may have suggested this one for the blog before but have lacked the emotional willpower to follow through and watch it.  That stops today.

The Film:

Lion

The Premise:

Based on the true story of a young man, raised in Tasmania by his adopted family, who used Google Earth to find his biological family in a small Indian village over 25 years later.

The Ramble:

Saroo lives with his mother, sister, and brother in rural India.  The family does what it can to scrape by–Saroo’s mother carries rocks, while Sarro and his brother Guddu performing the dangerous work of stealing coal from moving trains.  Saroo is especially close with his brother and always wants to be included whenever Guddu goes off alone to bring home something the family can trade for food.

I can no longer complete this post as my heart has broken into pieces too tiny to ever find and put together again.

One evening, Saroo insists on going along with his brother on a mysterious errand at the train station.  However, Saroo is unable to stay awake and falls asleep at the station.  When he wakes up, Saroo is on a moving train that doesn’t stop for days.  Eventually, the train stops in Calcutta and a lost Saroo has no idea how to return home.

After months of life on the streets dodging all manner of characters with ill intentions, a young man helps him talk to the police.  The police don’t recognize the name of his village and post his picture in hopes of someone claiming him.  Unfortunately, these efforts fail, and Saroo is sent to an orphanage that makes Dickens look tame.

Never trust a ginger.

Eventually, an Australian couple adopt Saroo and later, his brother Mantosh.  As they grow up, it becomes clear that Mantosh is a deeply troubled child who later turns to drugs.

I’d like Nicole to do more ’80s period pieces because she’s nailed that look.

The family dynamics become strained further when, after completing his university education, Saroo secretly determines to find his biological family.  Though his girlfriend Lucy believes his family should know what’s going on, Saroo insists it would hurt his mother too much to learn the truth.

I apologize for not preparing you for how good Dev looks in this film.

If you saw any of the trailers for this film or have seen any films that avoid an entirely nihilistic ending, you can probably guess whether Saroo is able to locate his family (plus I’ve never heard of anyone writing a book about looking for their biological family and then not finding them).  However, I challenge you to feel emotionally ready for the ending of this film because, unless your heart is made of stone, it will not happen.

The Rating:

4.5/5 Pink Panther Heads

Though the plot is fairly straightforward, this film kept me engaged throughout as it battered my feelings.  It asks quite involved questions about the nature of family, privilege, identity, and loss.

Because this is a story driven by the experiences and feelings of its characters, the casting is so important here–and it’s perfect.  Dev and Nicole really stand out in their roles, and of course Sunny Pawar, who plays Saroo as a child.  He conveys so much emotion with his eyes and comes across as very genuine in some really devastating scenes.  I don’t even like kids, but I wanted to reach through the screen and hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Possibly my only criticism is that Rooney Mara is almost entirely wasted in her role as the supportive girlfriend.  She has charisma here but not a lot to work with–it’s not even clear to me what she does in later scenes except go jogging and lecture Saroo about being honest with his family.  While she’s of course not the focus of the story, it would’ve been nice to see her fleshed out as a character and given more personality.

Everything else about this one is beautiful, though.

Would Christa use Google Earth to track this one down or run away faster than you can say “orange soda”?  Read her review here to find out!