Mansi

What ever happened to Toni Braxton? At one point, I believed we were beholding a diva and the next, it was all skin and affairs.
Now, what we have is Il Divo performing 'Unbreak my heart', first caught on V and today I caught them again on VH1. Il Divo take 'Unbreak my heart', a song I remember as a favorite Toni Braxton number, remove the emotions Braxton was so good at delivering and instead inject in a new wave.
It's not opera but it's very close. Known as a cosmopolitan cross-over pop-opera band, Il Divo is not just a visual treat. It's an oratory relish, and to hear men sing opera (domingo, paverotti, bocelli, groban) is to me one of the sexiest treats of all.
The only song I've caught on TV from this troupe is 'Unbreak my heart'. It's not in English and that's the first difference. It's not American either, opera never was. It isn't with women with bare minimum clothes, in and outside swimming pools, with nothing to lose in this world but their hearts.
And I've just begun to skim the surface of differences, which heralds in a refreshing new wave of music.

This troupe of four men, aren't anything like the boybands, both past and present. The video is about pride, respect, continuity and a different kind of success. Like one fan said - 'Of course, your average boyband doesn't have an average age of 35 and wear Armani..'

The songs are in Italian, Spanish and English. I'd say that the genre is somewhere between pop and opera - but the vote is out there for cross-over jazz, classical, pop and even rock!

When we think cross-over, most of us normally pick up Josh Grobin, probably because of his famous stint on Ally McBeal - - Il Divo is not about individual performance, they are about the group and that's a clear difference again. Together their voices are superb, highly explosive and they aren't shying away.

Something about the average age of 35 strikes a chord with me too. What do men about 35 really want to sing about? Nothing is more disappointing than men in their 30s and 40s pretending to be in their 20s. Il Divo isn't even trying and that's 10 points to their favor!

Lastly, and perhaps the most disappointing piece of trivia that is true, that I picked up, is that this troupe, dubbed the classical beatles are the new operatic vocal group from Simon Cowell's syco music. BAH! To add to my misery pot, this is what Simon Cowell had to say about the band, a result of a two year long talent search that brought together an American, A Frenchman (oooooooooooo la la), A Spaniard and a Swiss - "Il Divo have taught me more than I have taught them. I am actually intimidated and slightly in awe of their talent! I am more proud of this album than anything else i've ever been involved with, they are going to be huge."

Well! As much as I can't stomach Mr. Cowell, I can't really stop now can I? Il Divo is a great band and album and after listening to tid-bits of all their songs on Amazon, I am anxious to get my hands on the complete songs myself!

While the Cowell factor did dampen my enthusiasm for this band, I have decided not to let it shut me up.
So here's more about Il Divo:
1. David - He's the guy you see hitting the high notes, clearly American, the one 'boy-band' character in the troupe. Don't let that deceive you however. Just like his partners, he's a classically trained musician with a Masters degree in Opera Theatre! He's spent a good 10 years and more in New York and to his acclaim has been part of West Side Story (Tony - - good fit!) and La Scala ( Italy).
2. Sebastien - He's the Frenchman ( ooooooooo - though he's not my favorite). The only self taught musician, he was last seen in the production of Le Petit Prince and even working on a solo album. The troupe looks to him for original scores.
3. Urs - This Swiss hottie was last performing with the Netherlands Opera. With roots in HARD ROCK, believe it or not, he also undertook formal training in Amsterdam.
4. Carlos - Last, but not least, (and my favorite looker of Il Divo,) Carlos is the Spaniard who oozes charm and pride like only the spanish can. He's participated in the spanish versions of Les Miserables ( my all time fav musical) and many others. His opera repertoire is splendid, winning critical acclaim as Prima Baritono in many operas, including renowned works such as La Boheme, La Traviata, The Barber of Seville and Madame Butterfly. He also isn't another Enrique and heralds of a different Spanish flavor, spared from the emotional faux pas that is Iglesias Jr.

Allright, I've just seen one song and I think I've discovered gold???? YES! The first time I registered the video on V, months ago, I thought to myself, European charm is lethal. Compared to American opaque, this is vintage, deep blue, red and white. The video - 'Unbreak my heart' - is also done in a classy manner, reflecting on work ethics, pride and is all MALE. That certainly worked with me, and for the rest of it, they ooze their talent. There is nothing sexier than skill in classical music and this troupe has it.

While Grobin can keep his American audience, the rest of us are in for a treat.

Inspired from a poem by Alexander Pope, the title of this film comes from a verse in the poem that goes like this:
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted and each wish resign'd

I am sure you've heard about this film and I doubt you've heard anything ordinary, there isn't anything ordinary about this film. Plot, acting, direction, drama: for all of us who only want to be spared the simplistic Speilberg stuff, here's a real film.

War of the Worlds is running, Tom Cruise, Speilberg: I want out, is all I thought to myself. I don't buy the hype, I censor the right to hype. I like recommendations and passionate I dos. I don't want the Chanel wedding gown, or the three tier cake.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is Jim Carey's film, from start to finish. While those with funny faces often try their hand at comedy, here's a funny face that is thorough actor in and out and who also can make you laugh your head off, as good as the very best of them. I've always liked Jim Carey. It takes a whole pot of talent and then sheer hard work to be Jim Carey.
In Hindi films and malayalam films, comedians are the ugly ones, the ones nobody would make heroes. There're not even good for villain roles though some do pass by as villains. These ugly ones then get to try their hand at comedy. Some find a new lease of life, and in so doing, teach us, crude audiences, a thing or ten about ourselves.
And then there's Jim Carey. Granted brown hair, a thin and lanky figure, non-descript but wonderfully large eyes might not be what a Hollywood hero needs to look like ( I'm thinking Tom Cruise, Keanu Reeves, Kurt Russell....)- - but what we have is a really classy actor. No doubts there.

This movie is just up Jim's street. He has the depth and breadth to play this role. He isn't just your wonderfully nice, next door kinda guy, he's also a child, a close to losing my mind stark raving romantic, and something else - He's as human as we are. Many times in the film, you will want to pinch yourself just to remind yourself that this is as much about you as it is about him.

The idea that our memories can be our biggest hell and heaven - the idea that we don't give a damn about that which is most precious - the idea that our relationships are wrought with 'happy - happy' stuck all over - - all of these ideas and more are explored in the most gripping and yet lucid manner.

This movie is a great watch and I can't thank HBO enough for actually screening it. What joy!

I want to get a hold of the soundtrack - - believe it or not, it has Mohd Rafi singing too. Kate Winslet -- She's not as there as Jim, but then this is a guy's film, all the way.

Last Night...
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Not one for metaphors, atleast not those I had to 'grasp' in high school poetry, perhaps today I am at an age when I see no more and nothing short of metaphors all around me.
One of the last scenes of the movie - House of Sand & Fog - is shot over a bed, rich, gold and splendid. To the left is an Iranian Colonel. To his left is his delicate, still beautiful wife and somewhere to the center lower half of the bed, crouched as a baby is a young American woman.
This movie to me was about the ultimate dessimation of civilization.
We might be today a globe of boundaries and territories, but as a whole, we are still and will always be one civilization. Whenever we have rocked our world, it has always been about adding, extending or removing a boundary line - nothing more. Yet the impact on our civilization has been phenomenal.
In our civilization, there are some of us who've been here long, tempered by time and ages of learning. To today's children, we may seem irrational. Iran, Iraq, the Middle East and Asia, to name some of the current hotspots, represent this older civilization. The United States is on the other spectrum, the younger part of our civilization. The older civilizations are struggling in this new economy that favors the youth. Yet they feel no shame in leaning on their youth and hence transfering traditions forward. Their children will live in today's world but they will bring with them the wealth of their past.
[I see the same pattern being fostered between nations, where older nations seek the support of the younger, stronger nations in gathering together the traditions of our past and taking it forward for the benefit of civilization at large]
The United States today stands guilty of exterminating the old, the powerless. In face of any danger, the Americans respond with fear backed by the only force they have - military force - their only heritage in their brief history. They will use this force to get what they want even if as a culture, they possibly cannot know what it is that they seek.
In such fickle hands lie the dessimation of an entire civilization. Just like the museums and libraries of Iraq burnt to rubble and ash, the Americans in their fear will bring on us the end of all that we know and understand.
This is the message of the movie - House of sand and fog.
Everywhere we look today, especially in India, we see the hand of America. Seeing Manmohan Singh address the US Congress was more NEWS to us than watching an American president address any other gathering. Through movies, television, film, MNCs, retail and merchandise, we are being invaded by the American way. While I take no offence with success and some of us seeing it as the American Way, there is more to a coin than just heads.
9/11, the American embassy bombing in Sudan, the bombings in Indonesia and the recent London terror attachks - all point to the other side of the coin. The means certainly do not justify the end, it is too simplistic. American occupation of Iraq was the first of many firsts that like a tidal tsunami hovers over the life of civilization itself.
"He is a scared man. He is nothing without his gun." Lines from the movie apply to America, when hurt and provoked. The retribution in the movie is the life of a young man, the custodian of our civilization. Without him, our children, we have no identity. Without us, America will cease to be.
I was warned earlier that this movie would be depressing. I understand that now. I am depressed.
We have a scared nation ready to nuke just about anybody in order to get back that which was not only theirs to behold. America is but a deep crack, molten lava beneath, waiting to wash this world anew.

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This morning:

On further reflection, the concept of old and young, the circle of life extends beyond just nations. It is far more basic and modular to how we respond. It is a fallacy to think that the aged are rigid. Instead, I learnt that it is they who are most flexible when it comes to handling change. In contrast, their rigidity is their commitment to the good times, to take learnings forward. In order to do that however, someone needs to change. I feel as the younger generation, it is our role to step up to embrace that change. It is up to us to let go of our self-centered wants and desires, and instead brace up to accept the learnings of centuries past. We cannot afford to doubt ourselves and look to the American way. Theirs is a society of discards, runaways, wonderfully packaged into something they refer to as the American Dream. More and more we see them hijacking our heritage to make up for their lack of any. We are only eager to share, since that is our heritage, to share and partake of one circle.
I also see that I am coming out far more harsh against the United States than is warranted or even desired by me. Which brings me back to the circle of life. The conflicts demonstrated in this movie clearly apply to any society, group or individual. We are all changing, growing and with that comes the need to tranfer learning and knowledge, fears and weaknesses. Let us not exalt in our youth but persevere with our aged and partake of that which is for all of us to behold.

I was very eager this morning to blog about the soundtrack of the movie - Parineeta (Saif Ali Khan and Vidya Balan) and in my search on the net to find the details of each soundtrack, I came across a review that is really spot on! Spot on with what I have to say at least... So go HERE to read the soundtrack review for Parineeta.

And Yes, I will still go ahead and repeat all that the review above says, that I also agree with. And though initially I wasn't going to speak about the movie, I now am going to do that too.

Why should you go to see this movie?
- To catch Rekha's item number. If ever a woman has defied age and had all the current kittens run hither, it is our ever dependable, ever gripping female avatar of the Big B - Rekha! Some months back, I caught her on the cover of a popular magazine and just like everybody else had just one word shape my lips - WOW! I just wish she had used her full name and didn't just go by her first name. (it makes her sound like a product than the classy actor that she is and will always be)
- To lose oneself in Vidya Balan's eyes. This actress can carry a whole film with just her eyes. Despite the patchy direction of a very 'expansive' story, Vidya through her eyes conveys every single lesson learnt in love - Be it fondness to predator possessiveness to that all embracing love that is not just for a lover but for humanity itself.
- To see Sanjay Dutt finally get to do some drama and wield it with oozles of charm and sensitivity - - what a dream character for Sanjay to play and except for in bed, everywhere else I think he brings it home for all of us.

What if I don't want to see the movie?
- Then go and buy the soundtrack. While none of the picturization hit me as special or spectacular (WHAT AM I SAYING - - EXCEPT FOR REKHA ..I MEAN YOU KNOW I MEANT EXCEPT FOR REKHA RIGHT????), this is a soundtrack for our ears, and our ears only.

I'd like to start with Chitra who the review says is probably the most under rated Bollywood female singer. Were this observation true it upsets me and should you too.
Chitra has the most haunting voice at a pitch where other singers get pitchy, tight or just too shrill (a la Kavita K). With Chitra, these oh so high notes are where she begins her climb. Her voice is deep on notes that will have my voice crack and that's where I mark 'high' when my mouth is open, my voice box vibrating but there's no sound coming out. But what I like about Chitra the most, in almost all of her songs and especially in Raat Hamari To (in Parineeta) is the emotional roller coaster she sets us off on. She doesn't really need instruments. Her voice bobs up and down all by itself and will have our cells doing the same jig inside our ears. And it doesn't stop there. With texture and her breathing, she breathes life into each note. Listening to this song, you will feel your stomach tugging or your heart fluttering or your head swimming like you're totally rockers on love, alcohol or just plain life - - The Simon Cowell in my head would say - great song choice!

Then there's Sonu Nigam who I am getting tired of BUT BUT BUT who with sheer work can take a song and blow! You can't miss him in this soundtrack (as much as you might want to). I am not trying to take anything away from his talent or his work. I am just tired of hearing him in every movie. In this song, Soona Man ki Aangan, Sonu blows in his so punjabi way, making us want to reach for some tissues...except for... and I'll get to this just after the surprice.

Surprice Surprice -- If you thought I was missing someone, yes, it is Saif himself. He does get to sing a bit in this movie and I liked what I heard. This man has a nice voice (now who would have thought that). He also plays that guitar and the piano (all very authentic - as compared to Mr. Dutt who gets 5/10 for musical skill and 8/10 for acting effort --but then who really wants Mr. Dutt to be musically talented, he's adorable without). Saif and his guitar - We've seen so much of that in ads, film festivals and now finally in a movie where it fits in really well with the role that he plays. But remember that exception I talked of earlier, yes, I was referring to Saif and how Sonu Nigam has no business singing for Saif. Soona Man ki Aangan is the song of a man who's heart is being wrenched out in every which way. As much as Saif tries to express all that melodrama (thank you Sonu), with all of his 5/10 acting skills, he fails. Melodrama is not Saif. Melodrama isn't the guitar either, now is it? But, that aside, we can listen him to sing 'la la la..hey hey hey ..mmm... you are mine.. .mmm ...la la la.... heyheyhey... say you mine' and then gladly give the rest of the song to Nigam (awful transition from Saif's deep voice to Sonu's sweet but younger one) and Shreya Ghoshal. I don't know about this woman (yes my ignorance is legendary!) but the review says that you can't have a Chattopadhyay novel without Shreya Ghoshal.

Piya Dole is dessert. If I were you, listening to the soundtrack for the first time, I'd save Piya Bole for the very end. Remove the terribly grandstanding instrumentation, and you have two lovely voices dancing about each other, like the pitter patter of rain just as the first monsoons arrive at your doorstep. This reminds me of Balan herself, in this one scene, where she lets the rain fall on her face and as she turns around with water on her face and shoulders (and in places you might want to find out for yourself even!)...here is where we will understand why Vidhu Vinod Chopra chose her over Aishwarya (Miss living with my parents is such a topic) Rai. While I don't normally resort to Rai bashing on my blog, Chopra's choice against Ms Rai was the best decision he made with Parineeta. We all know how familiar Ms Rai is with bengali movies - what with Devdas and then Raincoat (which she butchered) - one would have thought that she would be on the list of actresses Chopra had. Rightly she was. However, sense prevailed and the ice maiden was allowed to go do her dance somewhere else.

Vidya Balan, even without her eyes, is so warm and in some scenes downright hot! She does not flaunt her figure, she does not even acknowledge it. Her sensuality is all around, engulfing, almost like a ghost that adopted this body for awhile. Credits to Chopra too for not exploiting that. I think Chopra likes to capture beauty that is unconscious. Who can forget Manisha from 1942, with her pearls and her laundry chores? Chopra tries the same with Vidya Balan but gives up. He then steps back and lets Pradeep Sarkar, the real director (Chopra is just producing ...yup, believe that if you will!)let Balan be, and she does a fine job, all on her own.
While I still maintain that the direction was decidedly choppy, the storytelling was not. It captured some wonderful themes. First off fate and how one can never really be prepared for what we are in store for in our lives. Second of unspoken truths, here Sarkar captures the essence of what is going on between these characters. Each character in this film says far less than what they mean - like it is in our lives too. We can't verbalize things, we don't even want to. We don't articulate ourselves when we need to even. We are all about silent messages, hidden contexts, sublimal signals...and for good or bad, this movie captures that. If you're wondering how - by being overtly directorial. In every scene of this movie, you can hear the director breathing over your back. However, he's not breathing down on you - he's just doing his best to push you forward, till you've got your nose pressed to the screen and you're also doing what you normally would, not listening or seeing or touching or smelling but just feeling and inhaling it all into some strange part of us that actually makes sense of it all.

And who gets the last word (certainly not me!) - - It's Big B himself who graciously sneeked up on us again, as the narrator. (How does he find his (some small, some BIG) way into so many films?? Ms Rai's PR firm - please take note! Then again, from an ardent movie goer, please don't, don't, don't - pretty please?)
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And some more last words (hehe) - The direction, sets had a shade of that chap who did Black and Devdas. The music did at places seem A R Rehman inspired. However, last and never least credits are due:
Novel by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhaya
Produced by Vidhu Vinod Chopra
Directed by Pradeep Sarkar
Music Directors & lyricists - Shantanu Moitra & Swandand Kirkire
Singers: Sonu Nigam, Shreya Ghoshal, Chitra, Swandand Kirkire, Saif Ali Khan, Sunidhi Chauhan (Kaisi Paheli Zindagani - Rekha's item number), Rita Ganguly ( who did this wedding song, that we missed..must have been in the first two minutes of the movie)
Performance - Saif Ali Khan, Vidya Balan, Sanjay Dutt, Rekha (one item song but it was one HELL of a performance!)

If this wasn't such a sad story, I would have probably written about it sooner. Looking back though, not only was this a sad story but it also took something as liberating as 'running' and likened it to a cheap philosophical analogy.
Life is considered a run, both from and towards things that we either want/hate or are expected to attain/give up. (No grand Eureka moments there). Up on stage are two male runners, training for the Mumbai marathon. The entire play shows the two of them running. While one of them is quite certain this is what must be done, the other brings in the oh so philosophical aspect of questioning. So in short, the play is a Q&A session with questions not just about the running but about different incidents in the pasts of the runners.
Aside one: Another problem with this philosophy that is too mental for my digestion is the assumption that there is a past that we are coming from. That each moment we live in today was born from something we did in the past. The theory of randomness has no chance in this particular paradigm.
Aside Two: hold on - I got to pull up my Miss Saigon song - Why, God Why : Allright half an hour later, I learn (shockingly) that I don't have a Miss Saigon CD but thanks to some mercy, I still have my tape.

Why does Saigon never sleep at night? Why does this girl smell of orange trees? How can I feel good when nothing's right? Why is she cool when there is no breeze? Vietnam, you don't give answers to your friend - Just questions that don't ever end.
Why God? Why today? I'm all through here, on my way. There's nothing left here that I'll miss, why send me now a night like this?

In case you haven't clued in to what I meant by the philosophy of questioning, I hope the lyrics above has tuned you in - Now, we can continue.

One interesting conversation that I related to in this play was when one of the runners wishes that he could go back into his past and punch certain individuals in the face. I remember hearing that and mentally starting my list. I have a life full of moments when I believe I didn't express myself the way I wanted to. Social relationships were hard for me and like an opera singer, I was happier doing my soliloquays and asides, almost like I was always aware of a larger audience to the experience of my life. Except sadly that also meant ignoring or not completly fulfilling that moment with the other actors. I certainly don't intend to bash anybody up but perhaps say things I might have not then. I was also quite slow. Often days after a conversation had occured, my understanding of what I really wanted to say would take birth - except it was too late.

Other conversations, akin to femal bashing, had me laughing at the absurdities of sexual paradigms. Strangely enough, I was part of the minority actually laughing. I think by and large, the audience, was either not amused or relieved that somebody would actually put women in their 'place'. I also think everybody was just not ready for such humor or the sad improvisation of which. Perhaps Delhi audiences are far more repressed than they believe. Another part of me however noticed that the audience was rather old. Then, perhaps, they didn't understand why men felt a need to cheapen, talk down the women in their lives and refer to them as conquests or failures. Such SITH behavior is rather childish too.

Another aspect, that I learnt later was not appreciated by the original playwright, was the excessive swearing. I felt that it did not compliment the mental exercise of the plot. We don't swear in the deep recesses of our thoughts. We swear on the boundaries of our actions. So perhaps here I can agree with the playwright.

The plot is around the suicide of one man, who perhaps for the first time in his life, made a definitive, irreversable decision that once and for all put him ahead of the competition and perhaps unaware in his mind, ahead of the realms of human boundaries. In that aspect, this play doesn't really respect the boundaries of life (such is the limitations of obsessive thought). The narrative is from someone who we don't know. He or she is never in front of the camera. He instead stages (quite meticulously) the story of our two runners - who physically distinct are probably two parts of his self. Hence the story is about the struggle between the part of us that knows and that part which really just questions. There is a distinction between societal ideals and human failing. There is an interplay of that which will endure and as one of the runner puts 'suffer' and that which only wishes to stop.

As much as I regret the analogy of running used to reflect the journey of this plot, in some aspects, the mystery of running is touched upon. The first minutes, one of the runner points out, are always the hardest. How true that is. Each morning that I start my run, getting past the first park is the most trecherous of them all. Beyond that though, running is not about destination, it never has been for me. Strangely that fits in nicely with my life principles too. Life is not about milestones, but living. Running helped me break free from the clutches of my mind. For that, I will always be grateful. However, as wonderful as that is, it is only in going back to it, day after day, that I can choose to experience that feeling. I haven't gone for my run in the past four days. Four days of tortured thought, four days of mindful binges, four days of conscious ignorance, four days of sporadic emotions.

Not all journeys need end like that of the play we watched. There is far more living left in each of us that need not always juggle an ideal with a failing. Running is about enduring and in life, that is, I believe the equivalent of accepting. Something the script we witnessed missed out on altogether.

Performance wise: I think the challenge of doing a play in motion caught the attention of Vikram Kapadia and Satyajit Sharma. It is different. It has a quality of timelessness that I am afraid this adaptation sourly misses out on. While I believed that the performances and the sounds were precise and wonderfully rehearsed, I believe the adaptation of the script, was lacking. We got to chat for a bit with Satyajit Sharma after the play - who I must report back was refeshing. He had no airs about his work or stature. He accepted praise with child like delight, no matter, where it came from. He engaged us with information on Prithvi theatre and cinema. He spoke of where they will go with this play. He even got Vikram Kapadia to take in our appreciation of the play; however the latter was not amused or even receptive. He wanted something that we didn't have. He said things that we didn't really want to listen to. There we were a part of the audience, not really as well-rehearsed with our thoughts or our appreciation and it didn't go too well with the director. There were moments when I thought, Priya, say something important, on cue to a larger realization that the important stuff would, as usual, come only days later.

It is such thought driven exercises that I believe deludes us from the simple, real moments in our lives. What are we, without our thoughts? What we have amassed as many different cultures spread across the globe, why can't we then celebrate this pot of what reality can look like? Sadly, such theatre leaves me empty. As appreciative as I am of performances and choice of play, theatre is not a celebration of our thoughts. Theatre needs to be a celebration of life, of living, of enduring, of running.

Never before has a movie captured the reality of what America stands for today. If we ever wanted a final closure to the debate on Art imitating life or life imitating Art - This was it folks. Art imitates life and life in America sucks.

After two seasons of music, some amazing performances, some amazing personalities, I have found my closure with the show - American Idol. Despite all the hope I nurtured, the love I gave and shared, l today have been betrayed. Betrayed by the illusions of truth, fair play and a greater good for all.

There is no American dream. It has lost it's arms and legs just like Anakin Skywalker did. It has been reduced to just one spirit -that of power fueled by greed and anger. The melting pot of wannabes has thrown up yet another Sith Lord in Carrie Underwood, the champion of America's despotic and self centered spirit. Simon Cowell has found his apprentice and he has thanked America for 'finally listening to him'.

What happened today was a shame, a travesty and no, I will not be a good loser for the good loser won!

Bo Bice:
You are the most amazing, refreshing, talented and spirited performer I have ever seen. You have given me countless moments of pure joy and gratitude for the spirit of human kind. You will always be my Idol. You will always have my vote.
I thank you for the songs, the music, the smile, the outfits, the shades, the suits and the hats. Most of all I thank you for sharing your spirit. I am so glad you did take your mother up on that bet.
I am counting on what you said the other night: I will stay out the longest to hear you, even if I am the only one left.
Thank you.

Five minutes, out of the cinema hall, I learnt that there aren't three movies but six in the series. AH! Next I heard of Harrison Ford playing Luke Skywalker and something inside my head said 'AH' for the second time.
So in case you're ready to share the finer points of the STAR WARS phenomenon with me on this post, I apologize in advance. For I am indeed a fledgling in my understanding of the series.

What I did see last night is the final episode which really is the start of the STAR WAR series - so Lucas managed to do what computer programmers call an 'infinite loop'. You're going to come out of this 'final' episode and dive right into the original series 1 - 2 and 3: At which point, you will want to go back further, some time far far ago...and again and again you will wash, spin and tumble dry (no less) in the glory that is STAR WARS.

It isn't a bad deal either.

Not many women are into STAR WARS, I know I wasn't as a kid. My brother was - something about this natural affinity to machine and machine parts - has always puzzled me. I HAD heard of Harrison Ford playing Luke Skywalker but I only remember him playing Indiana Jones. Why, pray tell, do young boys yearn for tool sets while young girls can only think of love, romance and oozing charm (I am thinking of Indiana Jones). Maybe at that time, young girls were very much still looking to be protected and swept off our feet, even if it was clinging desperately to a man whose chief accomplishment was his practiced art of swinging from branch to branch on ropes (I am thinking of Tarzan here). I wonder if young girls of today understand that as their idea of romance.

Even today, I am not a fan of machinery. I like to figure it out and then let it do what it's built to do. I haven't really fallen in love with the idea of machines -- something that I have felt at times and know to be a powerful, heady feeling. Boys know that feeling. They are in love with their machines and more importantly the idea of a machine. That if you wire things up correctly, you can get inanimate, solid substances to work together and DO something for you. Little wonder then that when they turn around and apply the same 'rules' of love to women, it doesn't work.

I have felt on occasion that love for machines. To be able to concentrate, try, fail, try again and finally "GET" it to work -- there is nothing like that feeling even if all you really did was replace a light bulb. Why do women shirk away from this kind of romance, pray tell. I know everytime a light bulb goes POP or SPAT, I look up into my husband's eyes and bat my eyelashes so... you get my drift, right?

What is it about 'fixing' things that women don't get? Do we like living in environs of chaos? Do we enjoy playing with the many buttons on the home theatre/sound theatre/ whatever theatre that is - all we really want to do is listen to a song! Why do tools like the screwdriver (no, not a conducive name, you got to admit, for our feline ears) or a hammer (again, am I just being a tad sensitive to the terms or what???) get us to surrender all intellect and fun in lieu for extra time in the kitchen cooking up treats to celebrate the real 'man' in the house?

I woke up this morning and set off for my run with my head full of Anakin Skywalker and Kobi Van Kanobi (I know I spelt that wrong!). I thought of Padume (I mean really, do I really have to hear another western take on an Indian sounding name - ( Reference: I've been listening to Lakme, the opera - with Neelkanta, Dourga (the french spelling of Durga - NOT!) etc...) My favorite part in the movie was to do with the starting scene...and also the fight scene between the general jedi and Darth Vader -- where despite all odds, he does triumph over Darth Vader. I loved it all. My favorite line in the film is when Kanobi says 'Only the Sith talk in absolutes' as it finally dawns on him that Anakin has become one with the dark side.

This final episode (and I am not sure if it's intentional) does really find a third voice in today's reality. While some may call it more 'political', I think it works on the concept of the circle. We are constantly moving from one end to the other in our grapple with what we call our lives. One day, we're in a wonderful loving relationship, the next we're lost to the lure of power that can help us sustain the relationship at the risk of annihilating every little bit of love that took to build it in the first place. Anakin and his bride's story is sad. The anger that it fuels in him becomes Darth Vader. The expression in his bride's face when she is dying and knows it will always remain with me.

Which brings me to the question of destiny. In the movie, Anakin dreams of his wife dying at childbirth. She does end up dying at childbirth. Was it destiny? I know there are a lot of people out there who believe very strongly on destiny. I am not one of them. I believe that it's a path of consciousness, to move from a state of being controlled and pre-planned to a state of acceptance and flexibility that comes with a deeper wisdom.... Like captured in this movie, where as a Jedi you are encouraged to use your emotions to tap into your deeper wisdom -- while as a Sith, you are encouraged to use your emotions to drive your actions.

No experience of this film will be complete without due credit to the effects, the sounds and the mind boggling battle scenes. The dragon as a vehicle was quite a nice touch. The end of Count Dooku was sad considering his own master would orchestrate his death. The look in his eyes as he looked at his Master and the comprehension that came seconds after was priceless.

I could go on and on about this movie - I doubt it's going to go away from my mind any time soon. I am pretty much up to watching it again and again on the big screen.
On that note, may the force be with us all.