Baazigar

I finished watching Baazigar [The Winner] last night. The film is totally cheesy yet enormous fun. Until about half-way through when it switches mood (as is not infrequently the wont of Hindi films) and the hero turns EVIL and morphs into a scary stalking murderer. Then, nearer the end, the film switches into totally absurd mode with Shahrukh Khan, evil but not-evil (because in Hindi films a boy who loves his mother will always be vindicated, even if he's murdered a whole string of innocents along the way -- but he was only doing it to Avenge the Mother!), drooling blood from his mouth and impaling himself upon a metal stake that he had previously impaled his arch enemy with.

Yes. I didn't make that last bit up. He then proceeds to pull the stake from his stomach and stagger down a hill and along a road to die gloriously and bloodbesmearedly in his mother's arms.

The music in this film from the early 90s is major fun. And it is special because it is the first time that Shahrukh Khan and Kajol starred together. Kajol was so young! She looks about twelve! And SRK has a chubby baby face and a silly floppy haircut and his skin is brown.

Now here is a mystery. Why was SRK brown in the 90s and is now a yeasty beige? Has he gone the Michael Jackson route, or have cinematographers changed the lenses on their cameras in order to render their stars whiter??

Also, SRK is delightfully normal in the torso department as well, as is evident during delicious whipping-his-top-off musical interludes. Now he's gone all six-pack, of course; must be that mid-life crisis. And Farah Khan egging him on to be Brad Pitt for Om Shanti Om.

I also continue to enjoy filmi_girl's filmi music podcasts. Thank you, Filmigirl!

Plus, today I had my first Hindi lesson. The teacher is making me learn the letters of the alphabet! He gave me a list of 32 and said, "We'll do the rest next week." [!!!]

( pics )

( then and now; warning: nekkid torsos )

All except for Obama

By the way, the big gay wedding we went to last weekend? It was fabulous. I wore my silk frock and my hat, and it was all glorious and wonderful. London is pretty damn cool. I met fabulous amazing people (and spent the day after feeling totally down, in fact, because everyone seemed so happy and in-love and had achieved so much in life), and Alan Hollinghurst was there, and Will Self.

And so many middle-aged gents in snappy suits with sharp haircuts, five-o'-clock beards and fit'n'trim bodies. It makes me realise that it is not middle age that makes men sag and bulge; it is heterosexuality. They just don't care enough for us women to bother keeping themselves trim. They let themselves go!