The Fake News About Horror Films

I find it amusing to read this report in Times of India about a 65 year old man who died in a theatre in Thiruvannamalai while watching the horror film "The Conjuring-2". The report adds that the old man was pronounced dead in an "old government hospital" after he complained of chest pains. The last line takes the cake: "His friend allegedly disappeared with his body." This is what is called cooking up a story that cannot be nailed. The operative words are: Man died while watching film, Old Govt Hospital and friend disappeared. But the memes that entered your mind as you read this trending newsfeed on Facebook is that the movie gotta be deadly scary if an old man died while watching in a theatre. But did he really die? Then how did the body disappear? It could be the subject matter of "The Conjuring-3"! But jokes apart, the first part of "The Conjuring" collected almost Rs.120 crores in the year it got released in all languages in India. That is indeed a blockbuster but the initial response to the sequel now has been mixed: every time you cannot scare the skin out of people's brains and publicity stunts like this once again proves how gullible we are to paid news. Let me see whether the tags I used here show up in the trending news about "The Conjuring-2".

On a completely different note, I have been watching most of the horror films since my childhood - from Ramsay brothers' gory films to multi-starrer films like "Jaani Dushman" to RGV series on ghostly series to English films like "Evil Dead" and "Paranormal Activity" and "The Omen" series besides our own Telugu films like "Arundhati". There is a set pattern in these films which hasn't crossed the line of either Christian faith or Hindu culture. Most American films are shot in haunted houses set deep in the woods but why are they so god forsaken? Why do families invite trouble over settling in uninhabited homes? How do they eke our their living? Why do each one of them sleep in solitude in king-sized bedrooms which are worlds apart from each other?  Over time, the filmmakers there have become more liberal - you now see the crosses seem to be having no effect on the spirits. Back home, in Indian films, the ghosts cut loose  most times but just get reined in with timely collusion between the temple priest, the bearded Fakir and the occasional psycho-therapist. But our deities are more powerful than the show of crosses to the evil spirits. One snare or a sprinkling of holy ash and the spirits get packed off to their final destination. Writers like Ruskin Bond and Satyajit Ray who never believed in God also wrote best-sellers about eerie encounters with spirts. A few years back, a kid in Hyderabad confronted Ruskin Bond at Vidyaranya School  why his ghosts hardly scared him. Bond replied because "My ghosts are gentle." This is a gentle reminder to all those who make ghost films in the West: take a leaf out of Telugu films which have shifted into comedy gear a few years back after the audiences tired of tense horror thrillers. If you can't see them, at least make us laugh.

"Jump Cut" by Krishna Shastri Devulapalli

A little context before we talk about the author - KSD and his second book "Jump Cut". Anyone who carries a surname as revered as Devulapalli ought to carry the stamp of a literary colossus. Let's start with the grandfather, the author's namesake, written the other way around - Devulapalli Krishna Shastri. If Telugu is called the Italian of the East, some credit must go to this man who wrote the most sonorific and lilting lyrics of Telugu language. There were producers who entered films only to make movies with songs penned by Devulapalli. At one time, somewhere in the 80s, when the rate of inflation remained pegged below the Hindu rates of growth, Devulappli was rumoured to be paid anywhere from Rs.15000 to Rs.30000 per song! A sum more princely than what the Nizam of Hyderabad used to pay his Prime Minister! Devulapalli became the most loved and endearing lyricist of his time and commanded premium even after he lost his voice. Then came his son, who is a cartoonist of redoubtable fame. He became famous too as "Bujjai" and one of the cartoonists to be counted. With that kind of a legacy of writerly gene and artistic flair, it is unlikely to have a muted gene that's neither. K.S.D is one such writer who combines the flashes of his grandfather's brilliance exquisitely in his writings but probably chose a range of careers as an adman, illustrator, children's book-writer and maybe even as a standup comedian before the writing bug bit him.

His first novel "Ice Boys and Bell Bottoms" was a coming of age novel, a kind of a Forrest Grump for Indian ethos with all the improbable things quirky and hilarious that happened to Krishna that got trapped in the book. Anyone who survives boyhood has enough material to write for a lifetime, so goes some writer's tip for overcoming writer's blocks. Krishna's first book as above is ample proof of this as he mixes the genre of autobiography and fiction effortlessly with lot of indefatigable humour which seems to distinguish his writerly career. It has won Krishna plaudits from writers like Anita Nair and discerning readers who don't necessarily buy and read only books recommended by Crossword bookstore owners and Landmark shortlists. I even heard one top Tollywood producer recommending it highly for ROFL effects.


Like Puri Jagannadh of Tollywood fame, I liked the audacity of Krishna who announced in 2012 HLF in Hyderabad that his next book will be based on film industry and it is titled "Jump Cut". Puri also, for the record, announces tantalising titles with unintended consequences. So, Krishna, as he spoke at the book-launch took almost two years to write this book which includes one year spent at the editor's table of Harper Collins. "Jump Cut" is itself a snappy title which demands a google or two, maybe even consult Warner Bros. or our own Annapurna Studios to decipher what it means and why the title.

Jump Cut, in film parlance, means an edit between two shots that feels abrupt or discontinuous usually intended for expressive or dramatic effect. Jean-Luc-Godard, a pioneer, is associated with "jump cut" even if he may have accidentally created it. It seems to now form a blind followership by directors of South Indian action films who love to challenge the illusions of continuous space and time within a shot that seeks to maintain continuity. It has become a motif for stylised action and dramatic shots. So, Krishna has selected a wacky title that is set in a different setting than what his first book talks about. It's about a protaganist aptly named Satyajit Ray-Raman who returns to Madras to be with his ailing father Raman, an Assistant Director to ace director Rajarajan and others in Kollywood (Tamil Film Industry). Raman passes away but not many come to the funeral which surprises Ray-Raman. His investigations lead him to a character called Rajarajan, the same guy who milked his dad without due credit and cash. He decides to fight one grand battle against Rajarajan for blatant plagiarism or violation of intellectual property rights. He weaves a surreal masala mix that reminds you of the loud eighties where the hero, his side-kick and a lady who needn't be his muse take the villain on a trip, work him into becoming more greedy and lead him to the scent of a woman and money trap that bring the house down. Three characters, Abie, Sumi and Selva are roped in by Ray in the most clandestine manner. There is also Padmini, a bold woman who turns on the hero's libido one night before her engagement to another guy. Would Ray succeed ? Will he go back to US? Will he get Padmini? How much will Sumi stoop to conquer Rajarajan? Read on to have these answered.

Krishna Shastri is quite a skilful writer who can collapse a potboiler of a South film plot into some salacious prose thats rich in variety, pace and narrative. Krishna delivers a punchy, naughty, sometimes raunchy but mostly energetic output in less than three hundred pages that must score high on entertainment. Except for the first seventy pages, when he takes time to set the tone for the launch of an offensive by the protagonist of the book - Ray, I found the book mostly riveting and intensely racy with delicate turns of phrase and even over-turns of the phrase, as someone pointed out at the book launch. Krishna has the gift of an eloquent story-teller who has a voice of his own (evident even in his first book) and an incurable flair for humor that refuses to go away all through his prose. Krishna has an additional gift of an observant eye that is as precise as detailed as a camera on prowl: he compares a plate of "jantikalu" (a salty delicacy) as a collection of "infinity" signs (as in mathematics), he spots the Sun coming out of the ocean like "a swimmer jumping for a breath of air", he defines a particular movement of hands like "doing a Shahrukh". Get the point? "Jump Cut" reads like an engrossing screenplay with tens of similes, metaphors, and expletives which remain recessed in most people's memories but seldom float on paper.

When you read the book, you know you are reading a new master of English prose with a dazzling voice and a narrative dipped in good humor and occasionally, very rarely, below the belt. Krishna Shastri, at the book launch, which I attended mentioned that he has plans to launch himself for a film-writing career too, which is not contextually far-fetched from the palette he is painting his life with right now - children's books, copy ads, humor columns and novellas. I am sure, South film industry will beckon him soon as humor and imagination are both in terrible short supply and KSD with his top-of-the-tree lineage is well-suited to command a price tag with a premium not unbeknownst to his family. Just in case, you think this is ending like a panegyric the way Ray drives Rajarajan into committing harakiri, wanted to remind you, dear reader, what not to expect and what isn't happening in the book?

For a change, there is some Tamil in the book which could have got translated for a wee-bit better appreciation, atleast as a foot-note or in the appendix. I could not digest the proportion of Tamil words hurled at me at the cost of a few Telugu words, whatever be the arguments for elevating a classical language to that of the national language. Two, there are flashes in between chapters which justify the title "jump cut" but they remain a style but do not enhance the narrative or the characterisation. Three, there could have been more research into the issue of Intellectual Property issues of a film industry which copies unabashedly from Korean and American films and everything in between. Just a passing reference to an imaginary website pilferingpenis.com (It doesn't exist, don't try!) doesn't help the cause. Four, despite a promising start to fiction, the plot doesn't have multi-layered depth that goes beyond the three-act filmy drama. At one stage, the plot gives away when Rajarajan becomes more gullible and naive than the most idiotic and rotund villains of films like "Adavi Ramudu" and "Sivaji" and there is not much drama coming.


Despite these shortfalls, "JumpCut" is a thrilling and luminous read from one of India's freshly-minted talents in writing. KSD will be a treat to read whatever he writes and if he works on the elements of drama and depth in his plots, he will be a phenomenon to watch out for.


"JumpCut" by Krishna Shastri Devulapalli, pp.296, Price: Rs.299.00, Pub. Harper Collins India

Pandit Ravi Shankar - When the Sitar fell silent.

Pandit Ravi Shankar’s life was epoch-making till the very end. He was born in Benares – the holiest of the cities and passed away at 92 in North America which now celebrates his brand of music as Indian Classical Music – nobody else exists in their eyes. Ravi Shankar has mesmerized audiences across the globe with his iconic mastery of Sitar; when he played, Sitar sounds so sonorific and fluid. It inspired many who became legends in our own times like George Harrison, daughter Anoushka Ravishankar and the splendid Prem Joshua. My own friend Ram Vakkalanka who is now settled in Canada is an accomplished Sitarist who trained under one of the Master’s direct disciples.

He was awarded every progressive award possible in the planet of music and arts – the Grammys, Oscar nominations, fourteen Doctorates, highest civilian awards in France and India. Not many musicians who are contemporaries of Pandit Ravi Shankar received the Padmas in run up to the ultimate coronation in India – Bharat Ratna. Pandit Ravi Shankar understood what the audiences wanted – whether in India, Eurasia, Far East or the opera-hungry West. That he could inspire the icons of a generation like Beatles speaks of the universal appeal of his music. My first impressions of listening to Pandit Ravi Shankar was on DD channels where he played in France, in opening game ceremonies and in famous performances at International conclaves. And then came the film “Gandhi” where I learnt Ravi Shankar scored the BGM and the songs (the few that were shown in the end). Whether it was the march of the British to prevent the Salt Satyagrahis or that haunting melody for over 13 minutes when young Gandhi travels across the country in the train where he sees everything from poverty to peasantry – those visuals were powerfully enriched by the Maestro’s outstanding music. Those days, BGMs were hard to  get so I used to record the OSTs on audio cassettes whenever “Gandhi” was aired on DD. I still get ecstatic when I listen to the music scored by Pt.Ravi Shankar. He used the right mix of melodies and orchestration as demanded in a film of that stature. It was mostly unique and Indian, and yet had the aura that anybody else would have floundered for Richard Attenborough. Even Gandhi would  have been proud of “Gandhi”’s music by  Ravi Shankar.

I always felt that Ravi Shankar had the right grasp of Indian Classical Music to embellish it further with his feel for what can blend well with Western Classical Music. He can be minimalist, subtle and classy at the same time while making the audience clamor for more. While “Gandhi” may be his finest hour in scoring BGM, he was also the natural choice for the Apu Trilogy of Satyajit Ray. The title theme for Apu in “Pather Panchali” that says it all in less than 90 seconds is one of the most memorable themes in Indian celluloid. In those days, it had the class of some of the Western masters in making a theme stick forever. Of course, Satyajit Ray never engaged Ravi Shankar after the trilogy but he had admitted in many interviews that only Ravi Shankar had the synchronization with him on the role of music in the film grammar – he felt that only Ravi Shankar understood the relationship of music to the film. Satyajit Ray never forgot what Ravi Shankar wrote for his films and probably never tried any other music directors after two failed experiments with Ustad Vilayat Khan and Akbar Ali Khan. That shows the consummate genius of Pandit Ravi Shankar in adjusting his talents to the metrics of any medium – live, recorded or in-film. There were also other musicians who became music directors for films. L Subramaniam had a dash with a few films like “Salaam Bombay”, L Vaidyanathan in “Pushpak”, Shiv-Hari (the Santoorist-Flutist duo) for Yash Chopra films. But all of them met with limited success – they had to call it a day sooner whereas Ravi Shankar scored the music as a privilege to the audience. It is like a preface to the world audiences and it is still etched well in public memory.

Whether it was solo performances or jugalbandis or a collaborative exercise with a bigger orchestra, Panditji was unique and uncomprising. He  was credited to introduce many firsts  in public performances – first to give the Tabla player a solo, first to make program notes, first to introduce sound checks (which spawned an entire industry in sound recordings and arrangements), first to introduce “friendly combats”.  I have attended a live performance of Panditji and his daughter Anoushka RaviShankar in HICC Hyderabad a few years back – and he was as magical as ever with fingers that were still stringing beautifully. Unlike many other musicians of contemporary fame, he knew  when to stop, when to make it sound spontaneous, when to annotate his music, when to let the others get full limelight and when to chastise an audience if they are found to be listless.

Though I have not read his first book “My music, my Life”, I had the fortune to get hold of his second book , more of a memoir “Raaga Malika”. What an exquisite and charming book set in lovely and musical font with elegant layout and exciting photo albums. It had also got a wonderful narrative of Ravi Shankar’s journey to greatness. I am of the opinion that Ravi Shankar had gone where few other Indian musicians had travelled because he was a complete musician presentable in full  - articulate in English, intelligent, charming and famously flirtatious with the ladies, replete with all the etiquette and manners of fully accomplished Indian musicians, and always representing India at her best. At age 92, when he passed away on a day that wont come in another hundred years, he lived the most eventful life that any musician would die for. His output across classical and fusion music must have reverberated across every acoustic auditorium around the world. Panditji, you have left a legacy of love, music and daughters who will carry on your name to greater heights. R.I.P