My review of Arna's Children in Prithvi Theatre Notes for August 2011:
http://www.prithvitheatre.org/uploads/pdfs/PTNotes_Aug_2011_for_1311686628.pdf
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Potter Has Left The Building
The end is not near. It’s here. The last of the Harry Potter films, ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2’, is just out. In the 21st Century, Harry Potter is an ubiquitous phenomenon. There’s no running away from it, it’s going to catch up with you sooner or later. Not unlike death. Or taxes.
I’m a self-confessed ‘Harry Krishna’. Or at least I used to be in my youth. The last remaining dregs of the hysteria are still within me, but they’ve been distilled by age, experience and existentialism. It has played a massive part of my childhood. Me, along with the other million apoplectics out there in the world, have grown up watching Harry grow up. The series played an integral part of my childhood, spurring me on to read so many other books and giving me a very wide vocabulary of words to use in everyday life.
I have a tremendous amount of respect for these books and their author J .K. Rowling. She has so brilliantly managed to conjure a believable and alluring world, right out of thin air. Her prose is a whirlicote of eloquence, moving at a steady pace and beckoning us into a realm tres magicale. She has taken elements and symbols from ancient mythologies, myths, legends, put her own contemporary spin on it and engineered something that is the epitome of originality. The characters seem more real to me than real-life people themselves. I preferred getting lost in their trials rather than my own. The saddest bit was when Harry lost Sirius Black and Dumbledore, people who were both very close to him. An enjoyable bit was when Fred and George Weasley, the adorably gleeful pranksters, abandoned Hogwarts with a bang by conducting a mutiny against Professor Umbridge by a shower of fireworks. The books filter most of the characters into two concrete groups: good or evil with very little grey area in between. Apart from the world’s favourite trio, my favourite character is Luna Lovegood the quirky-yet-lovable, peculiar-yet-trustworthy friend of Harry’s. By the way, she gave a killer commentary on a Quidditch match at one point.
J. K. Rowling has managed yet another feat. The series and the way she’s choreographed it cannot really be compared to any other piece of work. Instead numerous works have been compared to Harry Potter itself. A massive pop culture phenomenon, not unbeknownst to majority of the world. Believe it or not, Quidditch has actually become a sport. Yes, with ‘flying’ broomsticks et al. The series has given ‘playing dress-up’ a whole new meaning. Kids and adults, people of all ages alike, flock to theatres and bookstores at the onset of a brand new release dressed as a Dumbledore or a Hermione or a Death Eater or a Dementor. Nothing says ‘Expelliarmus!’ like the dulcet tunes of Potter-inspired mayhem. Bands like Harry and The Potters, Draco and The Malfoys, The Whomping Willow… They’ve shaped up the wizard rock movement. They’re pretty good, actually.
Oh, and the films. Beginning from 2001, the films made an impact on the people who watched it. They were honoured with an award for Outstanding Contribution to Cinema at the 2011 BAFTA Awards. They help us to visualize the landscape of say, Hogwarts or the Ministry of Magic, given faces to much loved or despised characters and have thrilled and charmed audiences. It’s obvious the films have their share of deflections and discrepancies. But then again, the books have another kind of depth and intricacy altogether. I mean, the books are always better. Out of all the films I’ve seen (not counting the last two), I’d have to go with The Prisoner of Azkaban as my favourite. There’s a certain artistic flow to the film which the others are lacking in. Great cinematography of Michael Seresin and a strong story.
There’s a tie between the weakest of the films: Chamber of Secrets and the Order of the Phoenix. Reasons: Shoddy editing (the latter more than the former), poor storytelling with unsatisfactory acting where the actors resembled wind-up toys, vacantly and stiffly spouting dialogue.
The theme park at Universal Studios has, well, everything for the quintessential PottHead. Rides, Sweets from Bertie Botts, the Three Boomsticks signature drink Butterbeer and wands for 65 dollars apiece (highway robbery, if you ask me)…
So there’s goes my apotheosis for the Harry Potter series. In all honesty, there really may not be another Harry Potter. It may occur once in a while every now and then, much akin to a Halley’s Comet sighting. But that’s what makes it so special. But once I go to the theatre and see it, I’ll forever be in mourning.
I’m a self-confessed ‘Harry Krishna’. Or at least I used to be in my youth. The last remaining dregs of the hysteria are still within me, but they’ve been distilled by age, experience and existentialism. It has played a massive part of my childhood. Me, along with the other million apoplectics out there in the world, have grown up watching Harry grow up. The series played an integral part of my childhood, spurring me on to read so many other books and giving me a very wide vocabulary of words to use in everyday life.
I have a tremendous amount of respect for these books and their author J .K. Rowling. She has so brilliantly managed to conjure a believable and alluring world, right out of thin air. Her prose is a whirlicote of eloquence, moving at a steady pace and beckoning us into a realm tres magicale. She has taken elements and symbols from ancient mythologies, myths, legends, put her own contemporary spin on it and engineered something that is the epitome of originality. The characters seem more real to me than real-life people themselves. I preferred getting lost in their trials rather than my own. The saddest bit was when Harry lost Sirius Black and Dumbledore, people who were both very close to him. An enjoyable bit was when Fred and George Weasley, the adorably gleeful pranksters, abandoned Hogwarts with a bang by conducting a mutiny against Professor Umbridge by a shower of fireworks. The books filter most of the characters into two concrete groups: good or evil with very little grey area in between. Apart from the world’s favourite trio, my favourite character is Luna Lovegood the quirky-yet-lovable, peculiar-yet-trustworthy friend of Harry’s. By the way, she gave a killer commentary on a Quidditch match at one point.
J. K. Rowling has managed yet another feat. The series and the way she’s choreographed it cannot really be compared to any other piece of work. Instead numerous works have been compared to Harry Potter itself. A massive pop culture phenomenon, not unbeknownst to majority of the world. Believe it or not, Quidditch has actually become a sport. Yes, with ‘flying’ broomsticks et al. The series has given ‘playing dress-up’ a whole new meaning. Kids and adults, people of all ages alike, flock to theatres and bookstores at the onset of a brand new release dressed as a Dumbledore or a Hermione or a Death Eater or a Dementor. Nothing says ‘Expelliarmus!’ like the dulcet tunes of Potter-inspired mayhem. Bands like Harry and The Potters, Draco and The Malfoys, The Whomping Willow… They’ve shaped up the wizard rock movement. They’re pretty good, actually.
Oh, and the films. Beginning from 2001, the films made an impact on the people who watched it. They were honoured with an award for Outstanding Contribution to Cinema at the 2011 BAFTA Awards. They help us to visualize the landscape of say, Hogwarts or the Ministry of Magic, given faces to much loved or despised characters and have thrilled and charmed audiences. It’s obvious the films have their share of deflections and discrepancies. But then again, the books have another kind of depth and intricacy altogether. I mean, the books are always better. Out of all the films I’ve seen (not counting the last two), I’d have to go with The Prisoner of Azkaban as my favourite. There’s a certain artistic flow to the film which the others are lacking in. Great cinematography of Michael Seresin and a strong story.
There’s a tie between the weakest of the films: Chamber of Secrets and the Order of the Phoenix. Reasons: Shoddy editing (the latter more than the former), poor storytelling with unsatisfactory acting where the actors resembled wind-up toys, vacantly and stiffly spouting dialogue.
The theme park at Universal Studios has, well, everything for the quintessential PottHead. Rides, Sweets from Bertie Botts, the Three Boomsticks signature drink Butterbeer and wands for 65 dollars apiece (highway robbery, if you ask me)…
So there’s goes my apotheosis for the Harry Potter series. In all honesty, there really may not be another Harry Potter. It may occur once in a while every now and then, much akin to a Halley’s Comet sighting. But that’s what makes it so special. But once I go to the theatre and see it, I’ll forever be in mourning.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Film review : Arna's Children
A car ambles its way through a street flanked by protesters at an Israeli Highway checkpoint. We catch sight of an old woman, one of the louder protesters, yelling “You’re the face of the occupation!” Meet Arna Mer Khamis, a woman elderly in appearance but young and feisty in demeanour, in spite of suffering from cancer. She, a Zionist, married a Palestinian Arab and settled on the West Bank. She spent majority of her life trying to better the education system, after the schools were closed down by the Israeli occupation.
She was awarded the Right Livelihood Award, the Swedish parliament’s equivalent of the Nobel Prize. She used the prize money to open the Freedom Theatre where she gave sanctuary to a handful of pre-adolescent kids. Here, in Jenin, death, destruction and paranoia are considered mundane.
The theatre group acted as a canvas upon which the children could voice and vent their angst, frustration and fear into better outlets. Arna’s son Juliano Mer Khamis filmed footage of the theatre group and served as co- director for this documentary along with Danielle Danielle of the Netherlands. Through Juliano’s on screen and off screen presence, we get well-acquainted with brothers Youssef and Nidal and their friend Ashraf, Ala, Zakaria and Daoud as they put on plays, put forth their opinions and appreciate Arna’s hard work . However, there isn’t a much coveted happy ending to this tale.
After Juliano returned to Jenin, years after his mother’s death, he slowly began tracking down each of Arna’s Children. The theatre had already been destroyed by then. It turns out that most of the kids, now grown-up, went on to lead a life of militancy and violence, taking cue from their surroundings.
“Acting is like throwing a Molotov cocktail,” says Youssef. Youssef went on to join the Islamic Jihad and was killed along with Nidal. We first see Ala staring bleakly into the sunlight as he sits on the rubble of his house which was demolished by Israeli forces. Ala grows up to become the leader of the Aqsa Brigades in Jenin. On 26th November 2002, he was killed. Just two weeks after the birth of his son.
With a subject as delicate and intricate as the calamitous situation on the West Bank, the documentary is handled intelligently. With great editing, the film roams to and fro from the past and present, giving the contrast between childhood and adulthood. Juliano silently tries to fathom what led these talented kids to join in on the brutality. It’s a sheer vestige of a debauched system where war is a contagious disease. In a war-torn region, catharsis was gained through performance art. Later on, the same war was waged against war, only this time, through death. But, can art really sustain itself against violence and politics? Can art really be the form of salvation that can combat the inertia and hopelessness of war?
On 4th April 2011, Juliano was shot dead outside the theatre. An unlawful murder of a true artist and an attempt to denigrate art and any form rebellion.
‘Arna’s Children’ serves as a canticle sung fearlessly, denouncing war and its loathsome implications and upholding art as a form of sublimation and tranquillity.
She was awarded the Right Livelihood Award, the Swedish parliament’s equivalent of the Nobel Prize. She used the prize money to open the Freedom Theatre where she gave sanctuary to a handful of pre-adolescent kids. Here, in Jenin, death, destruction and paranoia are considered mundane.
The theatre group acted as a canvas upon which the children could voice and vent their angst, frustration and fear into better outlets. Arna’s son Juliano Mer Khamis filmed footage of the theatre group and served as co- director for this documentary along with Danielle Danielle of the Netherlands. Through Juliano’s on screen and off screen presence, we get well-acquainted with brothers Youssef and Nidal and their friend Ashraf, Ala, Zakaria and Daoud as they put on plays, put forth their opinions and appreciate Arna’s hard work . However, there isn’t a much coveted happy ending to this tale.
After Juliano returned to Jenin, years after his mother’s death, he slowly began tracking down each of Arna’s Children. The theatre had already been destroyed by then. It turns out that most of the kids, now grown-up, went on to lead a life of militancy and violence, taking cue from their surroundings.
“Acting is like throwing a Molotov cocktail,” says Youssef. Youssef went on to join the Islamic Jihad and was killed along with Nidal. We first see Ala staring bleakly into the sunlight as he sits on the rubble of his house which was demolished by Israeli forces. Ala grows up to become the leader of the Aqsa Brigades in Jenin. On 26th November 2002, he was killed. Just two weeks after the birth of his son.
With a subject as delicate and intricate as the calamitous situation on the West Bank, the documentary is handled intelligently. With great editing, the film roams to and fro from the past and present, giving the contrast between childhood and adulthood. Juliano silently tries to fathom what led these talented kids to join in on the brutality. It’s a sheer vestige of a debauched system where war is a contagious disease. In a war-torn region, catharsis was gained through performance art. Later on, the same war was waged against war, only this time, through death. But, can art really sustain itself against violence and politics? Can art really be the form of salvation that can combat the inertia and hopelessness of war?
On 4th April 2011, Juliano was shot dead outside the theatre. An unlawful murder of a true artist and an attempt to denigrate art and any form rebellion.
‘Arna’s Children’ serves as a canticle sung fearlessly, denouncing war and its loathsome implications and upholding art as a form of sublimation and tranquillity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)