Bush wasn’t the only imperial American to visit India last week. Mega-movie star, sometime rapper, and potential aspirant to the presidency Will Smith was also there as well. While he was in India to promote a new English language movie channel, he graciously complimented the competition, endearing himself to Indians with his love for Bollywood:

“The first Hindi film that I saw was Sarkar,” he explained, “and I was blown away by the Big B (megastar Amitabh Bachchan). I want to be known as Big W from today.” [Link]

“Just recently I got to know the number of films Bollywood makes a year – a whopping 800. And each with its share of song, music, dance and drama… I am simply enticed to be part of it” [Link]

Although his representatives denied that Smith had any concrete plans for a crossover movie, he did spend a whole day meeting with various filmi types, so something may be in the works.

For me, the highlight of Smith’s visit was his appearence on Indian Idol. There he imitated Tom Cruise by jumping up on the sofa (scaring the presenter Mini Mathur half to death) where he mugged and sang:

Telling the contestants how to deal with butterflies in their stomachs, Will said, “It’s hard going on stage, and I used to have a weird feeling in my gut too. Sometimes, I still do. And when I really want to make sure I’m ready for stage, I go to a really crowded place, like a mall or something, I just climb up onto something (jumps onto the sofa) and do this!” He screams his guts out, wildly, his lunatic expressions all over the place. [Link]

[To see a flip book animation of his performance, click here] While on the show, he not only performed “Getting Jiggy With It” but he also ventured a duet of “Aati Kya Khandala” with one of the contestants. Unfortunately, one of the male contestants was considerably more self-conscious than Smith was:

Will got off the couch to raucous applause, encouraging the lad right next to him, Sandeep, to do the same. “Go ahead, man, go for it! Your turn now!”

And this is where the Idol hopeful blew it. If Will Smith tells you to leap onto a sofa and yell your head off on television, you do it. Sandeep hesitantly got to his feet, perched atop the couch as if made to stand to attention, and then, instead of just shouting, he fumbled around for a microphone. Even as Will kept egging him on, Sandeep managed a lame ‘Woo’ sound, then stood there grinning haplessly. [Link]

Why am I not surprised? Continue reading →

M. Night Shyamalan had a two-minute-long AmEx ad on the Oscars telecast tonight (watch or download — thanks, Arzan and Sonia). The ad was lots of fun, a riff on Shyamalan’s odd worlds. Manoj Night was all slicked out in necklace, fitted suit and fancy haircut. Ennis Del Mar would approve.

I heard there was a short Ismail Merchant clip in the obituary montage. Sajit adds that Aishwarya Rai’s L’Oreal ad was shown at the end.

Out of the nominees, here are my personal should-have-beens (see also the complete list of winners):

Picture: Munich (winner: Crash)

Director: Steven Spielberg for Munich (winner: Ang Lee for Brokeback Mountain)

Actor: Joaquin Phoenix for Walk the Line (winner: Philip Seymour Hoffman for Capote). It’s a travesty that Reese Witherspoon won her Best Actress award for Walk the Line, while Phoenix, the movie’s heart, was jilted for his dark, intense performance.

Yes, Hoffman disappeared entirely inside that role like a good interper, in a way you rarely see any more. But the faults of the rest of the movie bleed over. Capote was so slow and aggressively anti-stim, so sensory isolationist, it literally almost put me to sleep in the theater, slower than watching paint dry. As Anthony Lane wrote about a different film, it had ‘the touch of mummification which wins awards’ and an elegiac tone that was stultifying.

Crash blindly jabbed your emotional buttons. It was a race drama by the guy who wrote Million Dollar Baby, and about as subtle, i.e. not at all. It felt as pointlessly corrosive as downing a bottle of Tabasco sauce, making it upsetting to sit through, every key character spewing racist invective. It felt like reading Usenet: messy, undirected, didn’t go anywhere. You’ve got my time, now make a point.

The movie was way too pat, like feature columnists in small papers in the ‘burbs. Everyone just happened to bump into everyone else in the L.A. urban sprawl. I’ve seen that narrative structure before, but it wasn’t used well here — it was utterly contrived. The carjackers were like scholars. The Latino dude who lived in a ghetto barely had any accent. If you’re going to deal with race, be accurate. This movie veered into Lifetime schmaltz often, as mawkish as much of Bollywood. Continue reading →