Where did the 12 Monkeys come from?

I was recently made aware that Terry Guillam's 12 Monkeys is derived from an older work. Of course, the theme of time travel from a post apocalyptic world into the past is not new.. it has been explored in the literature rather extensively. But 12 Monkeys was a rather nice piece of work. Bruce Willis pulls off one of those confused roles which he seems to fit so well in, and Madeline Stowe is quite delectable as the psychotherapist trying to help him. But the cake goes to Brad Pitt, around whom the entire film revolves.. aarrr.. go see it yourself.

So.... 12 Monkeys was inspired by, and gathers a certain part of its compositional aesthetic from an older film, called La Jetée, a 1962 B/W film which was composed almost entirely out of still shots! Some of those shots were undoubtedly painstakingly staged, some others, I am not so sure. But the film is something worth watching. Reminds me of another experiment in cinema which I have spoken about earlier here.

Which camera

Sometime this year, I will be flipping a lot of cash (presumably enough to buy a couple of kidneys on the black market) over for a camera and some associated paraphernalia. I have a few choices. But before that, let me talk about what the dream-wishlist.

1. The Leica M9. Just released. An astonishing 18 MPixels in a full frame 24X36 mm sensor. The legendary Leica M series construction. And of course, the ability to use any number of prime lenses from the Leica Summilux/Summicron/Elmarit series. All the way to the ultrabright 0.95 Noctilux 50 mm lens which goes for a cool 10 thou... This belongs to a type of camera called a rangefinder. The principle of operation is very different from an SLR. No swinging mirrors or anything like that. This leads to a much quieter machine which is discreet. Something that a master of street photography like Cartier Bresson apparently loved. Here is some of his work. One of his most famous photos, the man jumping over a puddle was taken with an M3. But the point remains that Leica's are quite insanely expensive. Not for me.
   

.. to be continued

Office suites

I feel the need to express my disappointment at MS Office. The version on the lab iMac is the Office for Macs 2008. The Powerpoint package is somewhat unstable and crashes easily. This has happened to me before, but I was usually running multiple things and Office is something of a resource hog. But this iMac was running almost nothing else, just a Safari window. Strange? Yes.

But that can be dealt with. Coming from the Linux world of OpenOffice, which is nowhere near as snazzy as Office (but gets the work done), I am used to hitting Ctrl-S or Cmd-S every ten seconds. (Back in the day, OO used to crash ALL the effin time). HOWEVER, and this is a huge lifesaver, OO has a file recovery system which kicks in when you restart the suite, and should recover your files from the last autosave. Does MSO not have it? Am I missing something here?

Movies lately

So, I ended up seeing "My Name is Khan" with a couple of labmates a week ago. Our man Kaushik told me that this movie "sucks arse". Not true. It is not horrid, just ambitous, but does not really make it. It was a treat to see Kajol again after a while... she has aged rather well, methinks. Shahrukh Khan is stuck doing his "Kikikikikiki Kiran" act again. I mean, this bloke finished optimizing his acting skills in the mid 90's with Darr and has been putting the same shite out for the public ever since. (sorry Rachna). And for some unknown reason, the Indian movie going audience laps it up and comes back for more. Also, Karan Johar believes in force feeding emotions down your gagging throat, so there is also more of that. But for all its tackiness, this fillum does challenge several important questions today... such as the perception of Muslims in the West, and tries to do a good job of it. But there was too much of Forrest Gump meets the 40 Year Old Virgin there for my liking.

3 Idiots was quite nice. Aamir Khan doing his usual awesome act. This guy is so versatile that all our desi actors should take lessons from him. Mahadevan and Sharman somethingortheother bloke were pretty cool too. But the cake goes to Bomman Irani for another absolutely wunnerful role as the college principal. And the Chamatkar speech is something to enjoi.

For what leetil it is worth

Happy New Year ya'all. 2009 has been an' gone. What do I have to show for it? Well, for one thing, several of my friends moved out of towne. That felt awful. Perhaps that is what happens to everyone. Does it? Tell me, what is worse... missing friends, or not really having any and not knowing the difference? They say that some things you only start appreciating after they aren't there any more. That category certainly includes people.

My last few days in Michigan went by in a blurry. (This is a made up word which is "blur"+"a flurry"). Please cite me whenever you use it. Pradeep babu came by to defend his thesis on the 7th of December. He stayed at my place over the weekend and totally wowed me with his awesome presentation. Here is a picture of both of us not workin'

The day after Pradeep's defense, my boss wanted me to talk to this guest speaker.. who just happens to be one of the world leaders in the field I work in. That was scary. Then it was time for my own defense. Our man Nandi made the following poster... note that he should have been prepping for his own predefense research proposal, which was scheduled for the very next day....

Sara made a FB event for my own shindig. Complete with Nandi's awesome poster. Milan came down from NY to participate in the general fun. Pradeep, of course had stayed back for a couple of days to effect his thesis revisions and chuck rotten tomatoes at me. And then, before I knew it, the big day was upon me. I started out by trying to iron a shirt with the heater set too high and almost set the place on fire. After this early disaster and minor hiccups such as retrieving my committee evaluations from the graduate school half an hour before he scheduled time, and so on.. we were finally there. The talk went (I think) rather well, although I was pretty much in a state of terminal panic just before. I puked all over this bloke taking a shite in the men's room and said 'muh bad'. No, I didn't, I was just channeling 8 Mile. Our man Smith attended in a Three Wolf Moon shirt.

Anyhoo, a whole lotta phrends came down to cheer and much fun was had by all. Thanks. Really. Then the closed doors session began, and the gloves came off. That was effin' brutal, I don't mind tellin' ya'all. But they passed me with minor revisions ( I think the only person who did not get those "minor revisions" was Robert Oppenheimer). And then much merry making happened.


More updates later...

Gautam Chattopadhyay. Always.

Jibonmukhi, about which I may have written earlier is the return to realism movement in Bengali music. Perhaps the best proponent was Suman Chattopadhyay. I am not sure what that eccentric genius is up to these days (some people say politics..?), but it might not be out of turn to describe him as the voice of not a generation (see, no cliches!) but rather as the poet of an age which lived in the portentous shadow of changes which would eventually overwhelm everything familiar. But for the moment, the hand was stayed, and a people walked home together in the late afternoon sun knowing only that the evening would pass, bringing a dawn which they would not recognize. Suman belonged to that age. And you are a wee bit confused. But this is not about Suman, this is about an older musician called Gautam Chattopadhyay. The late seventies was a confused time of riotous colours, bell bottom pants (they came to India somewhat late) and the angry, pathetic, remnants of yet another failed political movement. And in music, for a brief moment, the wonderful romances where the hero and heroine run around trees or sing along in a Shikara on the Dal lake... these romances were also becoming a thing of the past. Soon enough, the Dal lake in Kashmir would echo with the crackling of assault rifles. But this was, just another day. And no one, really no one was holding his breath.

Gautam Chattopadhyay came together with a small group of like minded musicians and wrote Haay Bhalobashi, and suddenly this was different. This bloke wrote about what you felt, not what you were supposed to feel. Mahiner Ghoraguli was the first true Jibonmukhi band, on either side of the border. And people walked out on him. After a few years, he faded into obscurity.

Then, Suman and Tomake Chai happened. The rest, as they say, is history. But for some of us, even if we weren't actually there, Gautam Chattopadhyay's afternoon still lives on.

We had a Halloween party

A Bengali Halloween party. Also known (for slightly confusing reasons) as Bhoot Chaturdoshi. It was rather awesome.

The awesomeness of the new B-school

The B-school has a new building. I was enjoying an afternoon constitutional the other day when I decided to make a slight detour and take a dekko inside the building. Snazzy. Uber snazzy.

More credit card fees?

Apparently, BoA is planning to impose extra fees on people who pay off their credit card loans before the interest period kicks in.

Thesis writing, Shutki machher jhal

Is a very uphill task. You certainly know of a certain Frodo Baggins who started his dissertation under Gandalf the Grey, a wise tenured PI. That story is detailed here. So, I visited the bigsis at Urbana. Did you know that city is the home of Miss America 2003? There, I have improved your day somewhat with that leetil factoid. Also, I made Shutki Machh with dried fish from the Chinese store. Here are a few facts about Shutki Machh.

1. It is made with dried, salted fish.
   
2. The original recipe is Bangaldeshi.
3. I am part Bangladeshi, at least by lineage.
4. The best prep of Shutki is the low-on-gravy-high-on-chilli version. This is also called the 'Jhal'.
5. Shutki machher jhal is usually mind-shatteringly hot and spicy. As in your insides will melt and your read end might think it is a Kilimov RD33 afterburner.
6. Shutki stinks to high heaven. People of a delicate disposition, and of a genteel upbringing have been known to faint whilst walking past a place where they were just drying out Shutki.
7. The same people will fight each other to eat more Shutki. But they cannot make it.
   
8. Trade secret: soak said dried fish in hot water for a while. That will kill some of the stink.
9. Bigger trade secret: the process of cooking will drive your neighbours out of their shantys (Shutki is rarely cooked in American Suburbia or any random Manhattan co-op).
   
10. Shutki is sometimes made with Loitta fish. Here is a recipe. Here is another.
    

I moved

About a month ago to this new place. Packing up was hard, and I had a very Jerome K Jerome moment. Here is a pic to go with it. The only thing missing is, you guessed it - Montmorency!

Busy... busy..

Tail end of my PhD. Working hard. No time to blog.

This is what happens when you have a pissed of crystallographer

Half a million dollars worth of research down the drain, not to say several the possibilities of several PhDs. This woman has a lot to answer for. Details follow:
http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_13108834?nclick_check=1

Reddit on relationships

1. Reddit is full of losers. Read this thread to find out why.
2. I am one of them.

Yes! Prayers can also be outsourced!!

To India, where else?

What meteor shower?

So, I found myself standing out in the parking lot, trying to block out the glare of the halogens with my hands. And then suddenly a meteor streaked by. I legged it upstairs and pulled my camera out. And drove off on Pontiac Trail to find a spot where there would be no pesky ground level lights. And no meteors. None at all. Disappointing. But then, on second thoughts, today meteors, tomorrow Triffids. Perhaps it is better this way.

captcha of the day

10 wildly historically inaccurate movies

(mostly pertinent only to Hollywood)
are here. Observe that our man, Mel Gibson makes it to the list thrice. As SouthPark would have it, it hurts, it hurts!

Lakshya, Dhoom and Dhoom 2.

There are Hindi fillums and there are Hindi fillums. I have often wondered why really good Hindi cinema does not get the attenshun it deserves and why crap floats up to the top and makes so much money. A case in point is Drohkaal, a cinema I have already blogged about. A more recent example is Lakshya, which is based on the 1999 Kargil war.

Briefly, a slacker finds his way into the Indian Army through the proverbial series of unlikely cooincidences. The discipline of the Indian Military Academy proves too much for him to handle and he decides to quit. Except that he just goes AWOL. When he gets back home, he is greeted by (in sequence): relief (his mom), disapproval(his dad) and contempt(his girlfriend). Something inside him goes, quite audibly 'click', and he heads back to the IMA. His CO takes him back, but not before hammering out a very well deserved punishment. They say that the life of a GC (Gentleman Cadet) at the IMA is harsh to the point that after graduating as Second Lieutenants, these young men find life at the LoC(Line of Control in Kashmir) quite relaxing. This is what our protagonist goes through, and after graduating, he is promptly posted to Ladakh (the highest battleground in the world, where the Indian and Paki armies have been facing off for 25 years). His regimental CO is the venerable Amitabh Bachhan who in one of his most masterly understated roles yet, points out to the youngster at the unit welcome dinner that "one billion Indians sleep secure in the knowledge that you and I are awake, and watching over them".

Prophetic words, for shortly afterward, in the spring of 1999, an Indian goatherd spots armed men sneaking across the LoC. Afghan mujahideen, backed by Paki Special Services Group and the Northern Light Infantry had built fortified bunkers on our side of the LoC. The Indian and Paki forward commanders have long had a gentleman's agreement to collectively withdraw from the border in deep winter, a time where both sides lose men to exposure and not bullets. The Pakis, not being gentlemen, decided to use the opportunity over the winter of 1998 to move men and materiel over the LoC. This started the Kargil war, where over 500 Indian officers and men died. The Pakis admit to losing 350 regular Army soldiers. Unofficial estimates put the number of Paki and mujahideen dead at above 3000. Perhaps we shall never know how many people fell in the snow. But what is known and recorded by scribes from the front was the immense bravery of the Indian Army. The Indian officer ethos is summed up in the simple words 'follow me'. The disproportionately high officer casualties suffered in the taking of Tiger Hill and Tololoing came from brave young men leading from the front.

Lakshya means 'goal' or 'objective', and the objective of our hero in the film is an unnamed hill, which is a Paki artillery observation post. Was it Point 5353? It is never mentioned in the film. We share our hero's desperation as he leads his team in an almost sucidal assault up a sheer cliff. Lakshya was a rare film, one that showcased bravery and sacrifice without ever descending to jingoism. And Indian audiences rejected it at the box office.

In return, Bollywood gave us movies like Dhoom and Dhoom 2. Both of which are lame and brain dead. And people loved them. We deserve that shite that is served to us in the name of cinema. Before leaving, check out these clips from Lakshya:
1. IMA graduation
2. The unit welcome
3. The ascent

Drohkaal

The Naxalite movement/revolution/terrorism scourge (take your pick here) has been a major issue in the Indian political stage for several decades. In 1994, Govind Nihilani directed 'Drohkaal', (literally 'The time of revolution'), which is a film about the battle between Naxalites and the police in an unnamed Indian state (Andhra Pradesh..?).

I am not going to delve into the politics of the issue. But the film... dear Gawd. That was brilliant. The way the interrogator, Abhay Singh (Om Puri) sees himself folding to the will of his enemy, Bhadra (played by Aashish Vidyarthi) is nothing less than the best of le Carre. The story hinges around two double agents in Bhadra's terrorist cell. Their controller is DCP Abbas. Then Bhadra is himself taken in a chance encounter at a highway checkpoint. But to the consternation of Abbas and Abhay, Bhadra appears to be pulling strings from inside his cell. Bhadra proves to be totally immune to interrogation, and matters suddenly escalate when he orders a hit on his interrogator's family. Loyalties blur and every other man who wears a khaki uniform could be working for the other side. This is a hauntingly powerful film which does nothing to prevent the feeling of rising hopelessness which we share with Abhay Singh, and to a lesser extent, Abbas (Naseeruddin Shah). A movie to watch and think about.