The annual film festival tumbles into town with its showdom of splendor. Well, ideally we should be celebrating the aura of the celluloid, err, the 35mm projection, err, the digital projection itself, in the intimate confines of the theatre, nothing more, nothing less. However, things are a bit different in our maximum city. Or, what I like to call the city of extremes. You possibly cannot fathom a better phrase when you venture towards Andheri West where two adjacent PVR multiplexes are hosting the majority of the shows, spread over nine different screens in two locations. As you traverse through the fluid JVLR riding on the morning easy traffic with dreams of the anticipated images conjuring up in your mind, a sudden denouement hits you in the eye, or rather the entirety of senses, as one approaches Captain Suresh Samant Road (after crossing Jogeshwari West). In the midst of towers as tall as forty floors and compound walls speck lined with choicest shrubs, the road leading to them is tattered, dingy and has not seen repairs for eons. After a mild drizzle, the slosh and damp due to accumulated garbage is beyond redemption. On the other side of the high gates of highrises, chawls and two-storied rag-tag shanties coexist in vagaries of quotidian existence. People residing, loitering, bantering, shouting, fist-fighting in all their essence, baring the polluted realm they are placed in. As one swivels out towards Andheri West, huge monolithic structures housing corporate firms and restaurants, breweries and ateliers, night clubs and mega malls come into sight. These are the places of meeting, sharing, and happening, where the best of the Bombay lot meet, and spend their bucks. If only one could care about the roads on the way towards merriment.
Anyways, the festival venue at PVR ECX, Citi Mall greets with sights of school/ college-goers thronging in sparse groups, and young professionals in few numbers. Not much of the common crowd in sight. This is a great departure from the festival fare at Kolkata, where people from all walks of life can afford the tickets and walk in straight into a Godard or Makhmalbaf, without hesitation. Mumbai hoists its festival colors in the palatial arenas of PVR, where the sleek corporate touch to the entire proceedings ups the tickets price to quite an extent. The student delegate pass for five hundred rupees would enable me to watch any number of films for all the days at any of the seven designated venues. I'm not complaining on that front.
However, as the day progresses, one notices the inflow of people, mostly professionals from the city's native industry of film and television, video and photographic communication. I fall a bit judgmental, but as I eavesdrop while sipping my chai, I fail to find any discussion bordering on films but on hush-hush talks of the tinsel town, the glitz and glamour of celebrities dropping by, and insincere, vague quips about film in general. I find the popular film critic Baradwaj Rangan in close conversation with the monumental filmmaker Kamal Swaroop, out here for the screening of his film Pushkar Puran. I feel the intent and passion with which they steer their dialogue, though I am not eavesdropping, and I feel content at heart for the love of cinema.
Now, on to the films!
Anyways, the festival venue at PVR ECX, Citi Mall greets with sights of school/ college-goers thronging in sparse groups, and young professionals in few numbers. Not much of the common crowd in sight. This is a great departure from the festival fare at Kolkata, where people from all walks of life can afford the tickets and walk in straight into a Godard or Makhmalbaf, without hesitation. Mumbai hoists its festival colors in the palatial arenas of PVR, where the sleek corporate touch to the entire proceedings ups the tickets price to quite an extent. The student delegate pass for five hundred rupees would enable me to watch any number of films for all the days at any of the seven designated venues. I'm not complaining on that front.
However, as the day progresses, one notices the inflow of people, mostly professionals from the city's native industry of film and television, video and photographic communication. I fall a bit judgmental, but as I eavesdrop while sipping my chai, I fail to find any discussion bordering on films but on hush-hush talks of the tinsel town, the glitz and glamour of celebrities dropping by, and insincere, vague quips about film in general. I find the popular film critic Baradwaj Rangan in close conversation with the monumental filmmaker Kamal Swaroop, out here for the screening of his film Pushkar Puran. I feel the intent and passion with which they steer their dialogue, though I am not eavesdropping, and I feel content at heart for the love of cinema.
Now, on to the films!
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