Review: Sex and the City: The Movie

With Sarah Jessica Parker playing the role of now household name Carrie Bradshaw, it was naturally expected that women of all shapes and kinds would come out in hordes to watch the movie adaptation of the hugely popular Sex and the City (SATC) series.


And oh! They did come out in numbers. Accompanied by their ever-accommodating guy friends, boyfriends, fiancés, and husbands.

So we have Carrie, sassy writer for a New York newspaper, and show fetishist, who is all set to give up her single status for one of matrimony to Big a.k.a. John Preston (Chris Noth), her companion of ten years, much to the delight of her clique. The clique consists of Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), a successful lawyer, who, while toiling at her work, grows distant with her husband, who meanwhile cheats upon her, and later confesses his adultery, much to her utter misery. There is also Charlotte York (Kristin Davis), the eternal sunshine girl, who is trying her best to conceive.


And oh of course! How can you forget Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), the predator who candidly confesses her love for all things male, and who takes her love for sushi to new, bare levels (pun intended).


Their lives are all thrown asunder when Big develops cold feet on the day of the wedding, and decides not to go along with the wedding, leaving Carrie devastated. The four friends decide to go along on the already paid-for honeymoon for Carrie and Big, to Mexico, where they try to collect themselves.


Carrie returns to her New York job, hiring an assistant, Louise (Jennifer Hudson of Dreamgirls fame) to manage her administration.


In between the generous doses of Manolo Blahniks, Jimmy Choos, Louis Vuittons, Chanels, Givenchys, Moschinos, Vera Wangs, Jean Paul Gaultiers, Balenciagas, Roberto Cavallis, Fensis, Marc Jacobs, Versaces, Guccis, and Christian Louboutins, a sensitive, witty story of four friends emerges, twirling everyone in its wake.


So while you have the four girls sipping Cosmopolitans and martinis and getting sloshed, you also have the cheeky conversations about that taboo three letter word, all the while wearing the most wow of clothes and footwear, much to best friend and my agony and barely-contained gritting-teeth envy.


A much watch for every woman worth her Dior, SATC is two hours and a few minutes of pure, unadulterated fashion heaven. Though I’m sure that the men may hold a contrary opinion.


I couldn't help but hear the occasional yawning / gentle snoring spells by the men folk who had gallantly shown up.


God bless these noble souls!


And to more silver-screen adaptations of SATC, a huge Amen from all the womenfolk...

Movie Review: Loins of Punjab Presents

With a title like that, Loins of Punjab Presents sure must have grabbed quite a few eyeballs. Which would however, soon crease into wide smiles and / or impish grins, depending on your affinity.

A perfect weekend watch, Loins of Punjab Presents (I won’t deny that I get a kick each time I say the title aloud) takes you through the quirks, anxieties, ambitions, delusions, and machinations of an Indian diaspora in New Jersey. Thrown together one weekend to win the $25,000 jackpot of a reality show called Desi Idol, seven contestants attempt to sweat it out for the moolah. The show is organized by the boorish Jameel Khan, who takes the word ‘crude” to an altogether new high.

A walk through the contestants almost makes you feel they are intensely familiar. So you have the conniving socialite, Rita Kapoor (a stunning Shabana Azmi), assaying the Machiavelli act to perfection, complete with arched eyebrows, secretive smirks, and glinting eyes. Her only aim is to outdo a certain rival, who happens to be a prominent media person / socialite / theater personality. So when the rival donates a raffle draw prize money in charity, our very own Ms. Azmi sets her heart upon doing the same, albeit on a grander, more ostentatious manner. And the best course of action she decides to take, is entering the talent show, trotting off with the prize money on designer heels, and donating it all in charity. This, while the blinding flashing cameras click away merrily, and eager photojournalists hang-on to, and hastily jot-down her well-rehearsed “noble” speeches. As far as competition is concerned, Pshaww. What do some ignorant buffoons pose to her Royalty herself? Out she comes with her social networks (carefully updated and maintained over the years, no doubt), and like a seasoned Grandmaster, she sets about removing all the barriers that lie between the jackpot and her. Too bad that in the end, her hubby dear decides to have a torrid affair with the rival.

Next is Preeti, one of the huge Patel family’s offspring, all of 17 years old, blessed with a divine voice, which however, she only uses to sing. The talking? Well, she leaves that to her Scrooge Gujju clan, who will go all out to ensure that she wins. Even if that means spouting malapropisms (Cock for Coke; snakes for snacks – you get the drift, right), or taking the very very openly gay judge to, hold your breath, an all-female strip club, leaving him gagging/ frothing at the mouth. Do watch out towards the end, when Preeti finally opens her mouth to take Shabana Azmi by total surprise.

Sania Rehman fits the bill of the ABCD (for the uninitiated, American Born Confused Desi) to the T. Conversant with only a smattering of Hindi, which she uses sparingly, she dreams of making it big in Bollywood as an actress. And for whom, the Desi Idol contest seems like Manna from heaven and the perfect launchpad…

Vikram Tejwani (Manish Acharya, who incidentally is also the writer and director of the movie) plays the statistics-mouthing Amitabh Bachan aficionado, who, with his job getting outsourced to India, decides to give a shot at the contest. Love blossoms between him and Sania Rehman…

Then you have the odd man out – Josh Cohen, an American contestant, who loves Indian music and his Indian girlfriend, a wasted Ayesha Dharker here. The earnestness with which he sings the only two Hindi pieces he know – the Indian National anthem, and Yeh Hain Bombay meri Jaan, tugs at your heartstrings…

The funniest are the two Bhangra rappers, who insist on using the effing-word in every sentence they mouth. One of them goes by the name of Turbanotorious B.D.G (Ajay Naidu), and even gets one of the judges, another fusion music artiste, to rap with him. The swear words might be a little harsh on your acoustic sense, but boy! Can he dance!!! I almost whistled aloud – he was that incredible.

The film, is packed into a nifty 90 minutes-something, and keeps you entertained with its rollicking dialogue-delivery, crisp story line, and inane characters. The last includes an elderly citizen, who borders on paranoia that terrorists are lurking in every nook and corner of New Jersey, and who often gives “helpful” tip-offs to the police about probable terrorists.

Loins in Punjab Presents made me wonder, why such a cavorting flick, didn’t come out much earlier.

After all, with the spate of reality / talent shows that have pervaded channels pan-geographically, a movie must have long been in the offing.

A must watch. Go grab your laffs.

Bawdy Borat

Have heard mixed reviews about the movie, "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan."

From a couple of friends who chortled throughout the movie, to a very good friend in Maryland, who was outraged by the racist opinions and incest-hints expressed throughout the movie, and called it outlandish balderdash, I've heard them all.

The mockumentary, starring Sacha Baron Cohen as the Kazakh journalist, Borat, has won its fair share of laffs though. An average journo, Borat was once married to a plough (gasp), loses his second wife(when a neighbor shoots her, mistaking her for a bear), goes on to buy a third wife (who does not bore him), sires three kids, keeps relations with three other women, once had a pet pig(which ended up on his dinner table), is a voyeur par excellence, and extremely anti-Semitist, all in all - a stuffy, offensive, bigot and a prick.

The guy does all that can annoy you, and more. Sometimes he also makes you guffaw, in spite of yourself. Like for instance, this song that he sings in a bar in Tucson(Arizona).

While some people have been hopping mad at his (often sleazy) antics, others are amused by his sincere attempts to marry "pure" Pamela Anderson(Ahem), and his whole-hearted efforts to kidnap and get "knotty" with her! Don't they say, Love is blind?!!

Whatever they may say about the movie, I'm gonna watch it and then form my own opinions.

Oh by the way, id I mention that he marries an Afro-American hooker in the end?

I guess even he couldn't digest the Pam and Tommy video shown to him by some sloshed students.

Don't blame the guy one inch.