Crazy Gopalan: a baggage of trite comedy
The so-called hilarious, comedy thriller that boasts of a cast having almost all Malayalam comedy stars, indeed turns out to be a punishment, disaster and killjoy for all who went to cinemas assuming actor Dileep’s previous success with comedy genre. Sadly though, the debut director, Deepu, could hardly create a genuine echo of laughter inside the cinema hall as it is nothing short of slapstick comedy, loud action scenes, and too many characters sharing screen space.
The story is about this obscure village thief, Gopalan, who creates sleepless nights for the local people and who leaves, a thank-giving note behind after each theft. This was to avenge the whole village who tortured his father to commit suicide on false allegations of misappropriation of chiti-funds. Salim Kumar, engaged in similar profession, partners with Gopalan (Dileep) and both get caught up in a bank burglary which they did not commit. Salim Kumar is shot dead by the real perpetrator (Manoj K Jayan), who himself is the bank MD, and Gopalan manages to escape. The second part of the movie is supported by Jagadi, but here too lacks a punch that the duo could easily create in CID Moosa.
The musical score is appalling, so are the action scenes reeking the age old monotonous,dishum-dishum style and the set never moves out of Kochi and near by places. Maybe, the producer is too reeling under the global economic recession and wants to keep the film budget to minimum. We all know, Dileep is an actor of high caliber. As luck would have it, better next time, dude!
I go with one star out of five for Crazy Gopalan. Highly recommended if you really like loud comedy with happy and predictable ending or if your train is late by four hours and feels like nothing to do around, watch this.
Posted by:
Uthara Nair

The stage set for the one-week long cinematic delight in the capital Thiruvavanthapuram for the 13th International Film Festival of Kerala from 12-19 December, 2008 has come to an end. I was a delegate in the festival who spent a week-long living, thinking and talking only films, shut out from the world of reality. Some of the movies which I thoroughly enjoyed were,


Machan, a movie I thought to be discussing some chronic problems of a developing country is in its way a surprise package for its audience. Set in the slums of Sri Lanka the film shares very light moments with its audience amidst an island of dark movies in the IFFK 2008. No prizes for guessing this year’s Best Entry in Competition film category by festival delegates, it is deservedly Machan, in its first ever screening at an Asian film festival.
The movie revolves around the lives of four educated youths trying to escape from their country to overseas for a better way of living but have no resources to achieve the ends. Things take a U-turn when they find an invitation to a handball tournament in Bavaria. They garner some neighbourhood people making it to sixteen members and name themselves as Sri Lankan National Handball Federation. They play the international tournament to lose out the three games to the host team. By very next day cops reach their hotel rooms to arrest on charges of illegal immigration but all would have fled by then to different parts of the EU. The Srilankan sports authorities later inform that they never had a national handball team.
Uberto Pasolini, the German director of the film says he got accidentally involved in the making of the movie and it was the real effort of the natives including the cast-and-crew, co-script writer Ruwanthie de Chickera, and the production team.
Machan’s a movie narrating the lives hapless youths who wish to make it high but are shackled due to lack of opportunity and resources, plus indicates the extreme measures people will take to better their fortunes.

The Photograph
One reason I liked photograph (an Indonesian movie) the most in the competition category is its resemblance to my favourite Thai movies I watched before, at least the similarity in their faces. The second is the excellent photography connecting the film’s mood to the audience. The movie was successful to well my eyes with tears and make me ponder how losing the very special people in our life can alter us forever, here towards self-indignation and destruction.
The story is about Sita, a stunning prostitute who sings at a karaoke bar, works very hard to send money to her daughter in her hometown. Searching for a new place to stay, she comes to rent an old room upstairs at the house of Mr Johan, who is a photographer. She soon discovers that Mr Johan doesn’t have much time to live and has three wishes before his death; one was to find a male successor to his passion in photography. Unable to come across a good successor, Mr Johan had to let Sita perform the task of getting himself photographed in his last breathing moments. Sita realizes the value of life watching Johan as he prepares for his death.

Final Solution

While I was defending the saffron ideals, as it seems to lose hold, pushed to the horizon, my debating friend gave me a link to download a banned documentary “Final solution”, a film dedicated to the victims of politics of hate and violence... of Gujarat, directed by Rakesh Sharma. I was shocked beyond words as I sat through until the closing credits. I was shocked because the documentary was saying things that I never read in any of the newspapers. It literally subverts the official and media reports of the communal violence that happened after the 2003 Godhra carnage, Gujarat.

The director Rakesh Sharma checks the pulse of the people in the riot affected areas of Halol, Pavagad, Naroda, Naroda Patiya and Gulbarg Society and talks to its Muslim and Hindu populace. While many of the media reports claimed just five people (Muslims) were dumped into a well and killed thereafter, an up-close chat with local school going boys uncovers a ruthless alternate version, some of the best kept secrets of the Gujarat government. The boys testify scores of people lost their lives,including a lot of women and children. Women who tried to escape were molested, stripped-off, and then burnt alive.

The Godhra carnage saw 58 karsevaks lit alive in the tail end of Sabarmati Express on December 27, 2002 setting off a historic aftermath, a communal violence (the saffron party still denies it be called as communal violence) that took lives of hundreds of innocent Muslims.
In the documentary, goes a VHP leader at a ‘Trident ceremony’ or Trishul Diksha, taking oath with his disciples:
“After adopting Trishul, I will worship Shankar and Durga..
..and will build the Ram temple..will help defeat Jehad..
..will split Pakistan into forty parts…
and will help make India a Hindu nation..
Jai Shri Ram..”

These people are shaming our Gods. Ok, gods took lives of demons, not innocent unassuming people. What a stark contrast to what we studied back in our schools? India is a multi-ethnic state!

The film is a revelation against the backdrop of the false numbers reported in the media. That said, it still looks appropriate to seek ban on such documentaries in the interest of the public because it will do nothing towards improving the Muslim-Hindu relationship. Going forward, the documentary might only instigate hatred, skepticism, and scorn in a much-tensed society. Hindus are discontented with the current special reservation based on religion, we sense this as well, but resorting to violence is not the solution. Come to power with a big electorate mandate but not through violence, this shall be the greatest tribute to a great religion that is known for truth, knowledge and tolerance. Hindus are known to be balanced,  reliable and have a long tradition of tolerance. However, the tolerance does not mean submission to the other, one needs to be assertive of  the needs and aspiration, such as fight against the rampant conversion of faith. Hindus can prevent conversion only through a planned reformation, a complete overhaul of the current system. Dump, criticize and kill casteism, stop neglecting the Harijans, let the Shudra marry a Brahmin, may Brahmins spread the knowledge of Vedas, or let any practising Hindu keen on performing pooja be allowed into the sanctum sanctorium of temples. These are NOT rights exclusive to the upper class, for there exists no class. If this can be met, I bet there will be no threat of conversion.
And coming again to it, let us not malign our beliefs by displaying religious superiority over each other. India is a democratic country (though there should be a ‘fake’ prefixed to democratic, heck!) whatever, let us not consciously create another Gujarat, because I wish to co-exist with my Muslim, Christian and Sikh friends in a just ecosystem that knows no differences.

Written by:
Uthara Nair,
Dept of Mass Communication and Journalism
University of Calicut

this is the first poetry of mine written when i was in class twelfth. I hope everyone would appreciate my small piece of endeavor

Legend of the noble mistress

Part I

The beauty of the mistress remained a virgin toward,
The peace and passion being untouched,
Lovely forms didst flow,
With nay apprehension and frustration,
Save chirruping and the buoyant spirit.

Greenery remained the queen toward,
Crowned with blooming white daffodils,
Scented was the atmosphere with rd roses and lilies,
Heavenly, divinely symphony of nature did follow by her fellow mates
And thus was thee greeted, the orange faced groom,
-the prince of the Far Land, land far far.

Blushed became the beautiful and the bountiful
-blue mistress by the very vision of His,
Her eyes like angels’s rode on Him still,\
Her brows like bended bows didst stand,
Ah! Shining she by the light of His- the valiant Warrior.

Henceforth, was she made subdued,
Ye see the mistress owned by the valiant Warrior of the Far Land.

Rose didst the king from the royal air of fantasy,
“O! Mistress Mine, I wouldst go my far-land”,
Said He.

Alas! went He.
Black did turn the noble mistress, poured was the water thro’ her eyes

Nevertheless, came He the next morn,
And didst see He, the etched face of her-
In colours seven distinct.
‘O! Mistress mine, the noblest you cried
Am I not a warrior?”

Part II

Seasons imitated meteors in speed,
Save, kept was constant the dove.
Nevertheless came every morn he,
To meet His lovely goddess.

Emerged was the new species,
on the banks of the Nile-the Man;
Became She the mama,
Enjoyed the harmless age of his with watery eyes,
Nourished him with love and shelter she,
And there goes to history
Innocent age of her infant.

Emerged her juvenile son in crux,
Alas! Myth became his innocence,
Had he many brothers annually,
Save, loath growth only finally.

Green became he with jealousy,
Land, land, only he searched for,
Missiled the white dove he,
Neither did he account the great Head,
Why bother neck?

Didst forget man the old mistress- his mama,
Mourned for the prince- the fairies of the far land,
How happened to mistress this
To own the man in womb of hers?”, said they.

Bounced against the nature’s chime,
Broke the fair music of nightingale,
No stars didst I see,
No love being left after.

Cared for his dying brothers never he
Dived the Atlantic for crown he
Died never for brother he
Alas! Of single origin we,
Why not harmonize we?