Choke

Directed by: Clark Gregg
Writers: Clark Gregg (screenplay); Chuck Palahniuk (novel)
Starring: Sam Rockwell, Brad William Henke, Anjelica Huston, Kelly Macdonald

What does Chuck Palahniuk mean to you? Bizarre may be a good beginning. Or, if you are from the old school, you may say plain old sick. Or, probably twisted would be better word. I don't know.
But one thing is sure. For some, he is J D Salinger of our time, and 'Fight Club' is 'Catcher in the Rye' no less. You know, what I mean.
But you must give credits to David Fincher and Brad Pitt for bringing Palahniuk from the cult closet to a much wider recognition. Yet, he's not your average joe. If you like him, you love him, and if you don't, oh, he's dirty, vulgar, twisted.
Fight Club was a psychedelic noir, an anti-establishment slogan, seeped in nihilism. It was anti-capitalist before anti-capitalism was a fad.
Compared to this, his second work of fiction converted into a movie, 'Choke', is too personal, though it is equally twisted, if not more.
Disclaimer: This review is about the film 'Choke.' I haven’t read the book.
Like all Palahniuk characters, the protagonist anti-hero of ‘Choke’ is someone who is deranged, and one who lives in the fringes of the ‘normal’ society, not really an outsider, but someone who will take advantage of the mainstream for his own end.
Victor Mancini had a chaotic childhood. His mother was a junkie. He does not know who his father was. So, he was sent to live with foster parents by the authorities. But his mom will appear on and off and abduct Victor, before the authorities find him again, and send to an orphanage again.
Now, Ida Mancini is in a nursing home, which is expensive. So, Victor drops out from medical school so that he can pay for the bills. Now, he works in a theme park on colonial America and attend a sex-de-addiction support group, only to have anonymous sex.
In short, Victor grows up to be someone who cannot possibly have a normal relationship and all he wants his orgasm to achieve a state of nothingness. Things get worse when his mother stops recognising him. And that he does not have any money does not help the matter either.
Here we come to the central metaphor of the story, the act of choking. This is Victor’s modus operandi. He will go to a restaurant and pretend to choke on food. Invariably, some Good Samaritan or other will volunteer to help him. Now, here’s the catch. If someone saves your life, he is responsible for your life. So he must help you, especially if he hears your sob story. And Victor has sob stories galore.
There is an interesting implication to this whole choke business. Victor chokes on food to invite attention. This is his way of gaining sympathy. But once he has earned it, he will not maintain it in terms of relationships, but only as a source of income. This is why he cannot sympathise when his best friend falls in love with a stripper. Hence, he glories in anonymous sex.
The best part about Victor is that he has no illusion about himself. He knows he is bad, and he is not really trying to redeem himself. He really does not care about anything, except probably to know where he came from, who his father was. Things get complicated when he is made to believe that he is a ‘half-son’ of Jesus Christ, and a sweet doctor falls in love with him.
But in Palahniuk’s world nothing is simple and straight-forward. You will have to wait for the twist in the end. This way, Choke, at least the film, borrows heavily from 'Fight Club.' Both films are filled with the protagonist narrating the story. Both start with the narrator attending a support group and both the films end with a twist. The twist in 'Choke' is perhaps not such ‘what-the-fuck-is-happening’ as it was in case with 'Fight Club.' It’s a twist nonetheless, and we came to the point where we had started.

If all these sound very sad and silly, then it's my fault. Most of it are actually hilarious, especially because the players refuse to take their plight seriously.

The best thing about the film is its speed. From the first frame it moves in a frantically, without stopping to ponder over the issues, without stopping to revel in sentimentality, melodrama.
The actors are brilliant, everyone of them, including Anjelica Huston; none can play a better mad woman than her. Sam Rockwell makes us sympathise Victor without trying too hard.
And considering the subject matter, the film is not at all hard-core, and even the sex scenes are pretty normal, except probably the scene where a girl hires Victor to rape her, with very, very specific instructions. You do it her way, or not at all.

LET PLURALITY PREVAIL

At the end of the first day of the workshop, we were returning to our guest house in a car arranged by the organisers. There were six of us, and coinci-dentally, everyone was talking on the phone, having switched our mobiles off during the workshop. There was a mild cacophony as everyone spoke in different languages. Then, someone said, this is a ‘mini India’ right here in-side the car.
Looking back, I realise the far-reaching implications of the seemingly in-nocuous situation that evening. All six of us were speaking different lan-guages. We had come from different parts of the country. We belong to dif-ferent professions. There was no common ground among us. Yet, we were there, together, because of our love for literature and because of the fact that we are all Indians.
But, how do you define India? You do not define India. You experience it. You experience it in its details, its diversity. India thrives on being different. India blossoms in its plurality.
This all-encompassing plurality about India, this sense of defiance to an exact definition was, in a sense, the highlight of the Literary Translation Workshop organised by the British Council and the Sahitya Akademi in Kolkata from September 6 to 8, 2009. The event was co-organised by ‘The Little Magazine’ and the British Centre for Literary Translation, University of East Anglia, UK.
Personally, for this writer, those three days were moments to cherish. It was a revelation to discover that there are still people who believe in the importance, the power and the future of literature, and are willing to do what it takes to spread the word. For this writer, the issue of plurality was even acute, as he was representing the state of Assam, even though he is based in Pune, Maharashtra, and closely associated with the Marathi literature. The workshop was a stamp of approval for this writer’s belief that literature is always polyphonic, and there is more than one way to understand the di-versity and plurality, that is India.
The dinner lecture organised at the historic Bengal Club on September 6 evening set the tone of the workshop to be followed, and marked the be-ginning of this plurality. Speaking on the subject ‘Sending and receiving: Translation, transmission and cultural transactions,’ Prof Supriya Chaudhari of the Jadavpur University discussed at length three English translations of Ranbindranath Tagore’s celebrated short story ‘Khudhito Pashan’ (The Hungry Stone). While discussing the various translations, the idea was not to find out which one was the best, but to point out that each translation is unique in their own ways.
Yes, we agree that no translation can replace the original. Yet, we cannot dismiss the translations. Each translated work claims a place of its own within the literary milieu.
In the next two days, we discussed on various issues. There were questions galore. And a few answers. The idea was not to find the answers but to keep asking questions, to share views, to try to fathom the depth of the subject. If we find something while diving in, a pearl or a cowry shell, it’s well and good, if we don't find anything, the diving itself was worthwhile.
The workshop was chaired by two people who are experts in their chosen fields — Amanda Hopkinson, FRCA, Director of the British Centre for Lit-erary Translation, University of East Anglia, UK and Pratik Kanjilal, co-editor, The Little Magazine. Both the experts shared their views on the is-sues concerning the subject, and the reality of the Literary Translations in India and UK, which are of course very different.
One of the issues that cropped up was the possibility of taking up literary translation as a viable career. Whereas it’s still possible in the UK, it’s still a distant dream in India. This are perhaps changing, but very slowly. (Apparently, however, in Kerala you get a decent payment for translation works.)
Another issue that was discussed was the technicalities, publishing, drawing a contract and maintaining copyright.
The best part of the event, the crowning glory, however, was the roundtable discussion which was attended and elucidated by Manabendra Bando-padhyay, former professor, Department of Comparative Literature, Jadavpur University; Mandira Sen, director, Stree and Samya; Sanjukta Dasgupta, professor, Department of English and Dean, Faculty of Arts, Calcutta University; Udaya Narayana Singh, Tagore Professor, Rabindra Bhavan and director, Indira Gandhi Centre for National Integration (IGCNI), Visva-Bharati; Amanda Hopkinson; Pratik Kanjilal and Sujata Sen, director, British Council (East India).
At the end, the reality of Literary Translation in India was explained with a anecdote by Ramkumar Mukhopadhyay, of the Sahitya Academi. Appar-ently, there are at least six translations of Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘Gitanjali’ in the Manipuri language. When Mukhopadhyay asked why there are so many translations on a single work, one of the translators replied: Each translation is how the individual translator reacted to the text. Therefore, each translation is unique in itself.
Let plurality prevail.

Here are a few pictures from the event:

District 9

District 9
Directed by: Neill Blomkamp
Starring: Sharlto Copley (Wikus Van De Merwe); Jason Cope (Grey Bradnam - UKNR Chief Correspondent)
I know, I know, Roger Ebert will call me a fanboy. But, I can't stop gushing about District 9. It was owesome, on the big screen, where it should be seen, not on a tiny laptop.
Which I did; I saw the film on my tiny laptop. It was a pirated theatre print, grainy at best, with mufflled sound and Russian subtitles, that means you won't know what the aliens are saying, unless you can read Russian, that is. And, I did not like what I could see.
So, I went to the theatre on the first day the film opened, and boy, was I in for a treat?
What is the sign of a good movie? There are many so to speak, but a good film must first and foremost engage you from start to finish. This is one criteria where the film succeeds. There is not a single moment when your attention wavers from the screen. I agree, the action scenes towards the end are a tad too long, but if you have endured Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, you would not blame these guys.
Aliens in Hollywood is not a new thing. This year itself, we have had at least two more instances of aliens meeting humans: Transformers and Knowing. Yet, what debutant director Neil Blomkamp does is tell us a story which is fresh and unique in many ways.
First, and most importantly, the aliens here did not descend upon Chicago or Manhattan, or anywhere else in North America, as it happens in every Hollywood blockbuster involving science fiction (if not US, its London. The scope of geography does not go beyond that.) Here is a film that is set in South Africa, Johannesburg, to be precise. The time is now, not the future where anything can happen, and the aliens are not a novelty. They are here among us for 20 years.
This brings us to the second important point. In most alien saga, the genesis of action is meeting the unknown for the space, starting with Alien to all those AVP films. The monster, the creature, the alien, whatever you may call it, is an outsider, and we must face it, even though we know hardly anything about it. Therefore, we must have a hero, Ellen Ripley and her various clones, who will, after a series of state-of-the-art action sequences, save the day. This is the basic of all science fiction action fantasy involving aliens.
But here, we are in District 9, where the aliens, derogatorily call prawns, because of their looks, are among us. We know them and we despise them. We don't want them among us, because the Planet Earth is only for the humans (If this reminds you of Hilter, and also the apartheid in South Africa, it's well and good. This may be a sub-text worth looking into the film, but our enjoyment and appreciation of District 9 does not neccesarily depend on it.). At best, we try to exploit the prawns, to catch hold of their weapons and their 'powers.'
Here, the aliens are real, as real as they can be. There are too many of them, and they are dispecable. They are ugly (look like lobsters, hence the moniker prawns. We do not know what they call themselves. We do not know from where they had come. This is interesting. Unlike other alien stories, here, we seem to have taken these creatures for granted. We don't really care about them. We want them out, or at best use them. If it reads like the subjugated histories of the exploited races the world over, read it at your own risk.). They are not made of steel, or better still, they don’t metamorphoses into famme fatales.
Now, the hero to save the day. In district 9, he is at best a fumbling bureaucrat. He may be well-intentioned and affable, but he cannot by any means save the day. It becomes all the more complecated when he was forced to cross over to the other side, to become an alien.

And to see all these told in a ‘cinema verite’ style, beginning like a documentary and actually beginning in the end, though we don’t learn about it till the very end, District 9 makes for a unique movie-going experience, a rare phenomenon in today’s time when every movie looks like the other, overdoing stuff at their own expense.
District 9 can actually teach a thing or two to today’s Hollywood blockbusters, Transformers and its ilk, how to keep things under control. Here all the aliens are CGI, their guns are mindblowing, yet Blomkamp does not go overboard with his utilisation of the special effects. It’s never flashy. There are times when you don’t even realise all these are special effect, it’s that real.
And for this, along with Blomkamp, we must mention Sharlto Copley, who gives us the performance of a lifetime. Looking at this guy you cannot imagine that this is his first starring role. It's absolutely fascinating how he transforms from an affable bureaucrat to a fighter, struggling to survive at any cost, especially in the middle of the film when he is on the run, slowly turning into an alien. Watch his transformation, and you will know how difficult it must have been to play that role (The scene where he buys a can of cat food and while eating it, finds his teeth coming out...).
This post is going out of hand... I’m on a hyper mode.
The story of the film is here.
IMDB entry is here.
District 9, the official site.
Roger Ebert’s journal entry is here.

City Light...

Trick Of The Trade
The first rule of journalism. Strict discretion, so that when you break a news, you don't ‘break’ somebody’s life and livelihood. Let the law-and-order enforcement officials do their duty, we’ll just tell you the reality, with discretion, of course. The place is a night haunt, with lot of people hanging around, suddenly realising that they need a puff, or a paan perhaps, or a packet of gutkha (Gutkhas are banned, aren’t they? But who cares!). But it’s past midnight. All the shops are closed. Police patrol is doing the rounds. And you are desperate for that smoke.
Just chill. Take a good look around, and try to locate a paan kiosk where lights are still on. The shop is shut, of course. Only the shutter is not completely fastened. You go near the shop, pick you lose change and push the money through the half-closed shutter, and whisper whatever you want: A gold flake mild, a goa, a gai chap...
You are thrilled at getting a smoke at two in the morning. You want to light up immediately. As you do so, a voice inside the shut shop pleads, please move away from the shop lest the police get the whiff..."

Fashion In The Time Of Flu
She is a public relation officer with a private company and she is petrified about the current swine flu scare (or shall we call it Influenza A H1N1?). Anyways, while she has filled the house with stakes of face masks to combat the flu, she is also warming up the positive side of wearing the mask. For one thing, she does not have to spend an enormous amount of time in front of her mirror and with the make-up kit. You just wear a good looking mask, and probably a pair of dark glasses, that’s it. Only thing is that you never remove them in public, be it in the office, or while meeting a client. Then, when you are wearing the mask, you can actually make faces at someone, without that person noticing it. What fun! Besides, the mask also give you the excuse to avoid people you don’t want to meet or say hi to, in office or anywhere else. If that person complains, you can always say, it wasn’t me. Everyone’s wearing the same masks, aren’t they?

Nowhere in Africa

‘New Moon,’ the next film in the ‘Twilight’ series of the teen romance involving vampires and werewolves, and of course, a mainstream heroine, releases in a few months' time. The film will be a blockbuster, no doubt about it. However, what I am thinking about, is how the film is going to portray the Native American community, which plays a major role in the plotline. They are the ones who turn into werewolves. A marginal community turns even more marginal. How the mainstream Hollywood is going to handle it?
Very badly, if my hunch is right. Hollywood has always been fascinated by alien cultures — from Tarzan to the Safari movies, from ‘The Treasure of Sierra Madre’ ‘Dances With Wolves’ to ‘Out of Africa.’
Africa especially has been a fascinating subject for Hollywood. It’s the heart of darkness, a land of unexpected adventures. And, it’s always, always seen from the point of view of an outsider, the mainstream. Even when the film is set in Africa, for example, Maryl Streep-Robert Redford starrer ‘Out of Africa’, the continent and its people is relegated to mere props, nothing else. Same is the case with most Hollywood movies involving Native Americans. There are no attempts to understand the minority community; they are there to highlight the story of the mainstream protagonist. Even a genuinely sympathetic film like ‘Dance with Wolves,’ the focus is only the character portrayed by Kevin Costner. Even when he takes a wife, it’s an European raised by the native, not a native herself. To an extend, ‘The Last of the Mohicans’ tells the story of the Native Americans in a realistic manner. Here again, Hawkeye is an European adopted by the Indians.
That’s the reason why a talent like Adam Beach does not get enough work. He was, however, used to full potential in Clint Eastwood’s epic ‘The Flags of Our Father.’
It’s therefore a different feeling altogether when you come across a film that give the minority community equal importance, makes it part of the larger story, like the German movie, Nowhere in Africa (2001). Directed by Caroline Link and based on the autobiographical novel of the same name by Stefanie Zweig, the film, which was awarded 2002 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, tells the story of a Jewish family that emigrates to Kenya during World War II to escape the Nazis and run a farm.
Most films tell you a story, and ask you to observe the actions from a distance. However, there are a few of them which invite you to be a part of the action. Before long, you start caring about the characters on screen and want to know what happens next; you want them to make the right decision. You want them to be happy. Nowhere in Africa is one such film.
But, what is most fascinating about the film is how the country Africa, Kenya, to be specific is used in the context of a Jewish family from Germany. There are several binaries at work here: black and white, minority and mainstream, insider and outsider...
The Redlich family is a minority in Germany, that’s why they came to settle down in Kenya. But here, being white, they are now bwana. It is especially more acute in relation to Jettel’s behaviour towards the Masai cook Owuor. As the story progresses, Jettel comes in terms with Owuor’s presence and even comes to respect it.
The tagline of the film reads, sometimes home is where you least expect it. It becomes especially true in case of Jettel, who in the beginning hates being in Africa and when it’s time to leave, she is not willing to go.
For young Regina, who narrates the story, the bridging of the cultural divide comes easily. From Day One, she feels at home in Africa. This is the only home she knows, and takes the diversity of the situation for granted. She does not find it difficult to make friends with the local children even if there is nothing common between them; only childhood innocence...

Love Aaj Kal

How you wish if Deepika Padukone could act! She’s easy on the eyes, what the hell, she is beautiful. Even in the presence of the so-called ‘mystery girl’, Harleen Kaur, who is ethereal and absolutely mysterious, Deepika holds her own in Imtiaz Ali’s much-expected rom-com after hugely popular ‘Jab We Met,’ ‘Love Aaj Kal.’ Only if she could act.
She is smart. She has warmth and honesty in her voice. She has fantastic screen presence. She does not speak English with an accent like most young heroines do. All these are good qualities, but only if she could act. In most of the film’s running time, you do not notice her lack of acting, thanks to Saif Ali Khan’s goofy presence (a sort of screen persona that Saif has perfected since ‘Dil Chahta Hai’), the production design and the marvellous outfits she wears (I loved the dress she wore in the ‘Dilli’ song.) But, when it’s time to do some drama, she falls short. Very glaring is the climatic scene, when the pair had to repeat their first conversation, "about the angles..." she is hanging by a scaffold, her voice cracks and god, she does not know how to act. Imagine someone else in her place, say Kajol, and imagine the magic. (For that matter, imagine the entire film with Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol, it would have been a super-duper hit!!)
I enjoyed Love Aaj Kal. It’s smart, it’s breezy, there isn’t much rona-dhona, equally, less melodrama... the film can be considered a finest example of Bollywood romantic comedy, which is a rare breed so far as Bollywood is concerned, who likes to serve everything in a single dish, from action to comedy, melodrama to love triangles.
Triangles are very much part of LAK as well. But the film succeeds in shedding the extra flab of the surrounding to concentrate on the lead pair, especially in the ‘Jai and Meera’ story. Friends, family, other lovers are all relegated to the backdrop. They just have no roles to play in Jai and Meera’s lives (In the bargain, poor Rahul Khanna gets a raw deal and he does not even get the girl!!). At one point, Saif’s Jai even asks, what my parents have to do with my love affairs?
The premise is simple. It compare the love life of ‘wham, bam, thank you mam’ today’s generation with the love life of the ‘ankhon hi ankhon mein’ generation to prove the good ol’ theory, love conquers all.
There is nothing new in the story. But the presentation is unique, by Bollywood standards at least.
It’s good ol’ fun!!!