Capote

2005, 114m

Truman Capote was a prominent American writer, known, among other things, for inventing the genre of non-fiction novel. The present film is about how his novel, In Cold Blood, got written. The novel is based on a 1959 multiple murder in an isolated farmhouse, which Capote (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) decided to make the subject of his book. The two killers are arrested and convicted early into the film. Capote, using bribery, lying and influence, is able to enter into a long interaction with one of the two killers, driven by his need to create, not to speak of the associated fame and wealth. He even helps the pair with their appeals, prolonging the legal process by four years.

Apart from the psychological aspects of the criminals, and Capote's own difficult childhood, the film is interesting about the way the novel took shape. At one point he says he feels it as if he and Perry, one of the killers grew up in the same room. He (Capote) escaped from the front door while Perry left from the back door. Capote is completely immersed in his work, and feigns all kinds of deception and sympathy to gain the confidence of Perry, who is the subject of his study. Towards the end, he even longs for the Supreme Court to turn down the last appeal and confirm the sentence, so he can finish his book.

It is an engrossing film which manages to spare us unnecessary depiction of the gruesome events (with the exception of some minimal segments), but the horror is , through indirection, all the more effectively conveyed. Hoffman is adroit in portraying peculiar character types, and this is a film adequate enough to pass an hour or two. It makes up in execution, control and restraint it's lack of depth. It makes me curious to see the movie based on the novel and also to read at least a short story by Capote.

Ganashatru

Ray, 1989, 100m

This is the second last of Ray's films, made at the age of 68. It is ponderous compared to earlier films, as it examines man in relation to society. It is based on Ibsen's drama, An Enemy of the People, which it follows fairly closely, as far as I can make out from a synopsis.

Ashoke Gupta (a now somewhat wrinkled Soumitra Chatterjee) is employed as a medical practitioner in Chandipore, a small town with a temple which attracts large number of pilgrims, which is the city's primary source of income. Some people come down with a serious variety of jaundice, which the conscientious doctor is able to trace to the water supply of the temple. To rectify this would call for major repairs which would affect the traffic of pilgrims as well as the reputation of the temple. As the doctor seeks to awaken the people to an impending epidemic, he is brought into headlong confrontation with the authorities, headed by his own brother the president of the municipal committee. The situation escalates and the doctor soon finds himself homeless, jobless and friendless.

The film is a straightforward and powerful portrayal of the elemental conflict of good and evil, drawn in broad bold strokes, compared to the subtlety and delicacy of many of the more famous films. Ray was ever experimental, and his films do not fall into a single genre. This tempts me to read the play on which it is based.

Adventures of Goopy and Bagha

Satyajit Ray, 48m, 1968

This is one of several films which Ray made for children.

Goopy, a rustic lad, is banished in disgrace (mounted on a donkey) by the music loving Rajah of a small village for his atrocious playing on the Tanpura. Soon he encounters Bagha, another youngster in identical straits except that the offending instrument was a drum. They are set upon by a lion who makes his exit causing no more damage than a bit of roaring. Very soon they meet the hilariously ferocious King of Ghosts and we are treated to a prolonged ballet performed by his retinue of ghosts depicting, for no apparent reason, an enactment of the country's colonial past. The benign Devil grants them three boons, the first of which is to summon food of choice anytime, anywhere. Next, they are able to bring about rapprochement between two armies poise for conflict by the simple stratagem of causing it to rain sweets. The starved warriors forget everything in their eagerness to do justice to the refreshments. Not just that, the tearfully reconciled brothers, leaders of the two armies, express their gratitude by offering the hands of their respective daughters to the two friends.

One of the nice things is the melodious singing of Goopy , set to words which are a mixture of poetry and nonsense. The power of musical entrancement was one of the three boons. This was used in the peacemaking process also, as the friends regale the armies with the futility of fighting.

This is an utterly lightweight tale told with abandon, and great fun all the way. It is a contrast to Western fairy tales, which, below the surface, are anything but child-like, as they present themes of death, destruction and doom.

This definitely makes me want to see Ray's other films in this genre, there being around half a dozen.

Here is one of the songs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7u6faceJIw

Mahapurush (The Holy Man)

Ray, 61m, 1965

This is possibly the least of the Ray movies. This is comedy bordering on social satire. Movies with a message are not his forte.

This is about a conman posing as a Guru. He claims to be several thousand years old and to have encountered the likes of Jesus and Buddha. He has a following and offers magical solutions to problems. A group of friends take on the task of exposure. Lacking in any kind of psychological depth or richness of characters for which Ray is known, it evokes little mirth and the climax turns out to be far short of hilarious. In any case, it is a relief to encounter a Ray film in which it is unnecessary to search for adequate words or to go hoarse in the strain of being eloquent. Unbroken perfection is also tiresome and this flawed non-entity of a film cuts him down to human proportions.

Prasad Mukherjee as the Guru gives gives a versatile acting performance.

The Masque of the Red Death

Roger Corman, 1965, 88m

This is my introduction to Roger Forman, the King of B-movies. They say it is better to be a king in the god forsaken Place rather than a lackey elsewhere and the title bestowed on Corman is indicative of his phenomenal success in the niche he chose to inhabit—low budget quickies catering to a market which does not fancy subtlety. He boasted having made a hundred films and never losing a cent.

The movie under review is based on a story of Edgar Allan Poe, and this is what attracted me to it. But as a matter of fact it is a potpourri of several of Poe’s tales, trying to glue them into something one may be able to consume in an undiscriminating mood.

An epidemic of a dreaded disease called the red death visits the kingdom of the cruel and perverted Prince Prospero. The prince has already sold himself to the devil and his pleasures in life consist in tormenting his subjects with unspeakable acts of violence, degradation and humiliation. Among his courtiers is the dwarf Hop Frog (borrowed from the story of the same name) and his beloved, a midget dancer. Part of the story is about how Hop Frog avenges the insult to his friend, and that itself could be the material for a tightly knit tale of minutely contrived revenge, but is here perfunctorily inserted as if to make up the stipulated weight of the consignment.

Poe’s stories, springing from his demented personality, are visions of hell, with a unique macabre beauty. Death, decay, premature burial, chilling vendettas (The Cask of Amontillado),  terror of painful death approaching inch by inch (The Pit and the Pendulum)—such are the themes that sprang up from this fertile but sick imagination. I remember in my teens to have been star struck by this small collection of tales.

The flavor and Gothic majesty of Poe’s fevered mind is altogether missing. Corman’s movie is merely a juvenile high school drama. I have a feeling most of the audience would comprise of that age group. The acting is stiff and labored and the characters are either marching like soldiers on parade or overdoing the bacchanals. The canvas is crimson, more the color of overflowing chilly sauce than blood. The idea seems to assemble and deliver the product at the earliest, assembling the available parts like lego pieces.

A movie need not be faithful to source material but here the product is sold on the strength of Poe’s renown, even using the title of one of his stories. Everything is in the public domain so the late Mr Poe can do no more than groan in his grave.

But as an ardent Poe aficionado, I claim the right to protest this desecration. In the unlikely event of my visiting the US, one of my acts would be to lay a wreath at the writer’s grave. Certainly, nobody should judge Poe, genuine if not great artist that he was, by this tomfoolery.

Incidentally, I have heard it said by no less than Roger Ebert that Poe could have been a fine film director, by virtue of his strong visual imagination. I wonder how he would have reacted to this. I am reminded of the film Hannibal, in which the musically inclined and cannibalistic Dr Lector makes mince pies out of a violinist whose playing was out of tune in a musical performance the previous evening, and serves it graciously to other members of the symphony orchestra (of course without disclosing the recipe), much to their approbation. Perhaps that was a bit extreme.