Movies and stuff.
These days I seem to have a quite a bit of time on my hands for the results are not out as yet. So watched a couple of movies today, of completely different nature – considering that one was a 1941 classic and the other was a very Dombivli-oriented Marathi flick.
Citizen Kane is widely rated by many as one of the best movies ever made. Hence it was no surprise that I chose to devour this Orson Welles starrer from the 40’s. It tries to unravel the significance of the word “Rosebud” in the life of the protagonist Charles Foster Kane. Although the movie doesn’t boast of any bright lights or shiny streets ( in fact its a non-color print), the storyline more than makes up for it. Many reviewers have in fact waxed eloquent on the cinematography and innovative use of sound and camera in the movie.
Dombivli Fast, directed my Nishikant Kamat, is perhaps a Marathi version of RDB – the only difference being that their is no youthful gang of protagonists but a world-weary office going Dombivli commuter who is the focus of the movie. It explores his journey against rampant corruption, nepotism and falsehood in the society. A very blunt and a straightforward movie. A must-see for anyone who comprehends Marathi language half-decently.
The Champions League turned out to be a farce of sorts. So listless was Liverpool’s performance, that I ended my day trying to count the errors committed by Bolo Zenden on the field. In the first half itself he had lost possession about 21 times. I forgot my Maths at the start of the second and hence I still do know who scored Milan’s third goal. And hence Djimi Tarore should consider himself mighty lucky to have one a Champions League winners’ medal.
Picture this – I am in the FA Cup final playing with Chelsea. (If you still haven’t figured out, I am playing FIFA 07. And yes, I play with Chelsea in virtual soccer games. These game developers seem to be Chelsea fanatics, hence Chelsea players are showered with supernatural powers. Even Petr Cech has better attacking skills than say Henry!) The opponents are Reading. Being a pretty woeful player, my only hope to win the game is on penalties after extra time. Now if it raises the question of how I reached the finals in the first place, then well it is a mystery to me as well. I have succeeded in wasting 115 precious minutes but then concede a free kick outside my own area. A brown haired guy with pointed teeth steps up and scores past the impregnable Cech. And the guy who scores is none other than Steve Sidwell. A day later he actually joins Chelsea. The only reason he switched was so that he could beat Petr Cech everyday in training ! Huh!
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