Wednesday, September 7, 2011



The title is adept to the movie’s post war setting in Berlin, 1945. In the crumbles of war, trauma and hopeful pursuits’ decease the disillusioned lives of survivors while power politics is played between leaders under the garb of peace conferences. And in between falls Lena (suavely played by Cate Blanchett), the beautiful wife of a significantly wanted scientist, Emiel Brandt, who is presumed dead by all blocs. Jacob Geismar (perhaps a little less convincingly played by George Clooney) ,an American captain, journalist and Lena’s old flame, arrives on his second deputation not expecting to find her with his driver, a young and hot blooded corporal (Tobey Mc Guire). As Geismar unabashedly seeks (longs for) her, the corporal’s body is unexpectedly washed in. Only to Geismar’s curiosity, this murder means more than a mere consequence of zonal trespassing that eventually unfolds to his estranged lover, whose only goal is to survive while fulfilling a secret duty with her irresistible aura as the only means to escape.
                                         Stephen Soderbergh cuts a classic 40’s cinematographic piece coupled with the old school background score to the full effect of nostalgic cinema. And although it may take considerable cognitive effort to gather the story together, it’s worth the rental on a lazy day or even for a collector’s piece. 

Originally published in Traffic Life, a former magazine by Twenty Onwards Media Pvt. Ltd.  


Thursday, September 1, 2011

Carrying All That Weight Around


I like to think I'm a bohemian artist in this generation of rat race and cut throat competition. That I'm 'Indie' and I'm only just competing with myself. Its true that it is me against myself in this world. That is, me and my ideas of being 'Bohemian' and 'Indie' versus the unresolved and perpetually stirred conflict within myself of the expectations I choose to adhere to and those I forego with high claims of individuality, principle and superior thought.

No one said that the twenties are a period of existential homeostasis. Then why the fuck are people pretending it is? And why the fuck doesn't anyone tell you how ugly it was going to get and why won't most of us admit to it? What are people done experimenting life "so fully" in their teens that the twenties are all about resolving to some sedentary concept of a suburban life? Fuck you. You went around with every Adam and Eve that barked up your tree at 16 and now you're claiming settlement at effin' 23?

Oh you go party every weekend with that safe & secure gang from your BBM, so its all good, eh? Fuck you! I agree that drinking is not the solution and that it makes you forget the question (which is just so 'effin awesome, I know!) but halt, you escapist! No, not from uninhibited drinking but believing that izz alll goood just 'cause you do that.

And don't lament some other fellow's miseries just to make yourself feel a tad more secure from your own! Empathy is a dying trait of this generation and will only be referred to merely as figurative speech by the end of this century.

Why am I so angry? Because I don't have what you do. That I don't project my imperfect life as going just as great as yours. Again, fuck you. No I don't but I'm not as angry about that as I am about all that is worth going outta the window and superficiality being the king of good times!