OUTLOOK Monday 07 November, 2005
Critically Urs

Some of her film reviews may have rankled readers, some felt she’s too harsh on Bollywood masala but Outlook’s Namrata Joshi was awarded the best film critic at the 52nd National Film Awards. Secret of her success? Perhaps it’s all about giving poor ratings to all that trash. Wait, there’s more to the story. A little bird tells us she’s going places hereon....

Hottie Scottie

For a musically untrained software engineer, Manasi Scott’s first music album Nach Le was a success of sorts with over 75,000 copies being sold in Mumbai alone. Call it chhamiya, rock ’n roll or remixes that embody the spirit of rumba and merengue, she’s with it. She’s ready for the Bollywood item number too as long as she gets to sing. More raunchy moves? Nah! “It’s a bad excuse for no talent,” she says.

Gere Was Here, Again

Richard Gere arrived in Hyderabad for his Heroes Project with Parmeshwar Godrej wrapped around him like a wet T-shirt. To his credit, however, the southern film industry also lent their star power to the AIDS awareness event. Kamalahaasan was Gere’s interpreter. But it was Chiranjeevi who fed Gere a sumptuous dinner at his house. Gere was caught blushing when CM Y.S. Rajashekhara Reddy in his speech thanked “Mr Richard Gore” for his efforts to control the AIDS epidemic. As for talk of a movie with Sushmita Sen, it was, “She’s a friend but let’s talk aids.” So hush, Sush.

Glitter Watches Glint

When Rajya Sabha MP and publisher Vijay Darda sent out invitations for his daughter and daughter-in-law’s fashion show, there was bound to be a strong turnout. Sure enough, Gautam Singhania and wife Nawaz, Mukesh and Nita Ambani, Subroto Roy and Smita Thackeray made appearances. How were daughter Purva Kothari’s jewellery and daughter-in-law Rachana Darda’s clothes? Actually, there was so much bling off the ramp that the show got a bit upstaged by the guests.

Many Jacks In The Box

Here’s that broad expanding line with the blue denim theme (Anupam Kher blatantly flaying the dress code). Jackie Shroff, Suniel Shetty, Chunkey Pandey, even the mascot of ribald comedies, Ritesh Deshmukh, along with Riya Sen, Celina Jaitley and Koena Mitra—that’s Subhash Ghai’s latest A-team. He’s pitching his money in Money Money Money to get cash registers ringing. The film will hit the floors soon.


Omar Sharif is Hollywood’s bad boy. In ’01 he was delivered a suspended prison sentence for head-butting a police officer. Now the Lawrence of Arabia star has been sued by a valet who alleged the star punched him and shouted racial abuses.

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  • Bollywood must be dreading  the Calcutta International Film Festival—a stentorian call from the CM...the unenlightening prospect of a day full of drumbeats. However, there is no respite for Shahrukh (Amitabh fell ill at an opportune  period). Though flanked by filmmaker Goutam Ghosh, Mamata herself and Sourav, the stage-show was stopped by the bonhomie between Rakhee and SRK: singing along a pat­riotic Rabi­ndrasangeet and reminiscing  about the sets of Baazigar.
  • As a snarling Dirty Harry teases out criminals in LA; as Frank Serpico goes und­ercover in New York, Chulbul Pandey does age-old, comic acrobatics to hurt ‘baddies’, then giggles around his lady love. Flogging the same masala, here comes the trailer of Dabangg 3, at the launch of which Salman points at the same direction, while Sonakshi Sinha and Saiee Manjrekar prepare to follow the leader with loving attention.
  • What do they actually do in Bigg Boss—that synthetic morass of shape-­shifting loyalties, gro­up­­ings and couplings by people clinging on to the skirts of fame, dragg­ing along an endless stream of stragglers agape before their boxes? At least Boman Irani, Rajkummar Rao and Mouni are doing something specific—horsing around joyfully, canvassing for their film Made in China. Major domo Sal­man, of  course, is there at every step, falling in and out with practised difficulty.
  • If you’d like to stitch together a Hollywood dream team, it has to have Marty, Bob and Sonny. The BFI London film festival saved its hushed breath for The Irishman—a gangster drama by the man who helped define the genre in Goodfellas and The Departed. Yet, in this autumnal light, Frank (De Niro) and Jimmy (Al Pacino) are just not snarling desperados, six-shooters at the ready. Time is also spent on sombre reflection—old reg­rets, moral reckonings and the one important thing that finally matters: mortality.