Sometime in 2008, a fatuous film Desh Drohi released with equally goofy eyesore at the helm, the self-proclaimed billionaire, KRK. Although it still remains his only film to date, it did enough to
catapult him to the echelons of high connoisseurship. The most curious thing about it is the attention showered by Indian media upon him, the self-proclaimed billionaire, KRK. They disperse petals on the floor he walks, they cosy up to him during long walks, they hark his everyday tidings and tantrums — he gets attention like a newly-wed bride. Despite the passing of all the years,
he continues to be media’s babe. It is tempting to write a review.
To quote Albert Einstein: “The difference between stupidity and genius is that the genius has its limits.” The greatest of films can be graded using a uniform abstraction, but there is no limit to the lecheries of lowest common denominations. This wish-wash even makes the popularly known worst films — Clerk, Plan Nine From Outer Space, Jaani Dushman: Ek Anokhi Kahani — look decent in comparison.
It’s hard to understand all the attention given to this rickety eyesore: film snobs hail him as a chic socialite, box-office mystic, prophetic film critic and prolific Tweeter with a huge following. It is contended, with rabid justifications, that, since he doesn’t have nepotic association in the film industry, his work ought to be appreciated. Does that mean Aamir Khan and Hritihik Roshan are inferior actors just because they come from families of film-makers? Nepotism is more prevalent in Indian politics. Then, as per that logic, he should be made the prime minister of India.
At best there are unintentionally hilarious moments throughout this abject pseudo-intellect, though too vapid like the rickety eyesore at the helm. The uncouth prude is so unlikeable, so despicable that his unintentional humour turns into a travesty too loathsome. He is like those grossly ineffectual singers who turn up at auditions of reality shows for self-abasing publicity, being fully aware of their extreme ineptitude.
In terms of technique, it is an absolute botchery. A local cable TV crew of reluctant videographers would do a better job at shooting a film than the director, who is, surprisingly, not short of experience.
A wise man once said that snobbery can sell anything in this country. The box-office plaudits and the hyped television premier in prime-time slot reaffirm the adage that snobbery sells quicker than hot cakes. In Hindu mythology, it is prophesied that in Kalyug (the current era, translated as ‘the age of downfall’), swan will pick a grain and crow will eat a pearl. In other words, brilliance will be lampooned and idiocy will rule the roost.
To quote Albert Einstein: “The difference between stupidity and genius is that the genius has its limits.” The greatest of films can be graded using a uniform abstraction, but there is no limit to the lecheries of lowest common denominations. This wish-wash even makes the popularly known worst films — Clerk, Plan Nine From Outer Space, Jaani Dushman: Ek Anokhi Kahani — look decent in comparison.
It’s hard to understand all the attention given to this rickety eyesore: film snobs hail him as a chic socialite, box-office mystic, prophetic film critic and prolific Tweeter with a huge following. It is contended, with rabid justifications, that, since he doesn’t have nepotic association in the film industry, his work ought to be appreciated. Does that mean Aamir Khan and Hritihik Roshan are inferior actors just because they come from families of film-makers? Nepotism is more prevalent in Indian politics. Then, as per that logic, he should be made the prime minister of India.
At best there are unintentionally hilarious moments throughout this abject pseudo-intellect, though too vapid like the rickety eyesore at the helm. The uncouth prude is so unlikeable, so despicable that his unintentional humour turns into a travesty too loathsome. He is like those grossly ineffectual singers who turn up at auditions of reality shows for self-abasing publicity, being fully aware of their extreme ineptitude.
In terms of technique, it is an absolute botchery. A local cable TV crew of reluctant videographers would do a better job at shooting a film than the director, who is, surprisingly, not short of experience.
A wise man once said that snobbery can sell anything in this country. The box-office plaudits and the hyped television premier in prime-time slot reaffirm the adage that snobbery sells quicker than hot cakes. In Hindu mythology, it is prophesied that in Kalyug (the current era, translated as ‘the age of downfall’), swan will pick a grain and crow will eat a pearl. In other words, brilliance will be lampooned and idiocy will rule the roost.
