Choices… to choose between right or wrong is simple, but what defines one’s life is the decision between the greater of two goods or the lesser of two evils. This is the advice that Zooni Ali Beg (Kajol) receives from her father just as she is about to venture out into the world on her own for the very first time. Little does she know that these very words will shape her life. Zooni, a blind Kashmiri girl, meets Rehan Qadri (Aamir Khan), a local tour guide and an incorrigible flirt. Her friends warn her against this good-for-nothing roadside Romeo, but she chooses to ignore them. It is now her time to discover life, and love. Is this really the right choice? Rehan is fascinated by Zooni and wants her to see life as it should be seen, in its many colours. He promises her that the time spent with him will be the most precious in all her life. Zooni sees Delhi, life and love like she never has before, because of Rehan. What Zooni doesn’t know is that Rehan has another side of his life that he has kept from her – something that can not only change her life, but can also destroy it. Fanaa… destroyed in love…
2006 – Certificate: 12 – Indian Film
7.5 out of 10
I’ve had enough. By this I mean I’ve had enough of Google, that clever little search engine that used to be run by a few fun people somewhere in California; a gang of outsiders, rebels fighting the ‘corporate system’ and using ‘new media’ to make their point. However, Google now IS that corporate system and I’ve decided I hate it. It’s officially become the first Spawn of the Devil of 2014. From this point forward I won’t use its search engine, I won’t use it’s mapping system, I won’t Google anything, I won’t engage with any of its other, stupid ‘toys’ and I will never, ever, buy or use a smartphone or any other hardware that runs on Android, or anything else it invents in the future. I despise everything it stands for. Now, at this point you might be wondering, why? Well, much to my disgust and with no notice whatsoever, it’s closed my YouTube account. Even worse, its crap customer service is about as much use as a Ferrari 458 Speciale (and what a pretentious name that is) in the Somerset Levels right now. If I get one more cheerful, automated e-mail telling me the good news that my account is fine and I just need to change my password if I can’t log in (and that’s not the problem you mindless cretins, as I’ve told you more than once), I will personally kill every cute, small puppy I come across with a version of Android’s Operating System. I’ll become known as the Stupidly Named Food Themed Operating System Serial Puppy Killer. Fucking Google can fucking fuck off and die, painfully. The sooner Satya Nadella crushes this aggravating little upstart, the better. Then we can go back to a world of Microsoft vs Apple and not worry about the slimy, data stealing evil empire that thinks giving us a few stupid pictures of our own street is payment for all its underhand and nefarious activities; which is somewhat ironically more than it pays in taxes. It knows more about you than you do. But don’t take my word for it, just Google (bollocks, it’s hard to get out of the habit) search for “Why Google Is Evil” on Bing. I imagine my 600 YouTube subscribers are at this very moment planning the sort of campaign of civil disobedience that will make the Arab Spring seem like a bad day in Springfield. I’m sorry if my rant has crashed Google’s share price but you know what? I’m glad. Anyone who’s invested in this dictatorship deserves what they get.
A power spike wrecked the PSU on my computer last Friday, so I’ve had to go and buy a new one and fit it, (a Corsair CX750M if anyone is interested). It’s the 4th one my current computer’s had. I was so distressed that I had to go sit down and watch nearly 3 hours of Bollywood style action-romance to recover. I must confess that I’m getting to like Indian films. The plot is nearly always sort of the same, random over-the-top song and dance routines break up whatever’s going on and bizarre bits of action suddenly populate the girl-meets-boy-loses-boy-meets-boy-again stuff. But really, they’re a lot of fun and these days are well made technically. Anyone that’s not watched a few really ought to try some. In the same way that some things only become funny with repetition, films like this become entertaining once you’ve watched a few. Probably best taken with alcohol.
The trailer’s not bad. Watch out for those weedy power chords that start 33 seconds in. Reminds me of The Undertones 4th album.
The music is exactly what you’d expect. Not saying it’s bad or anything, just that there’s nothing especially interesting about it either. The silly ‘kid’s song’ “Chanda Chamke” is kind of sweet though.
Recommended for anyone with a visual disability, terrorists, tour guides and dancers.
No cats, chainsaws or decapitations.
Top badass moment? It’s a huge spoiler, but shooting and killing your husband and the father of your child that you’re totally besotted with, in the back, because he’s a terrorist and going to set off a nuclear bomb and kill millions of people, is about as badass as it gets.
And okay, I know I’ve posted a YouTube link below. I’m just so fickle.
Today the world woke up to the fact that however good Polish workers are, you wouldn’t want to employ one to fix your roof. This afternoon, England managed yet another lacklustre performance and gained a draw against Poland. However, the real highlight of the football coverage came yesterday, watching ITV’s commentary team, lead by Adrian Chiles, desperately trying to fill two and a half hours, sitting in a studio watching it raining outside. The highlight was Chiles’s genuine query to the rest of the team, “What’s the difference between heavy rain and a downpour?” It gave a whole new meaning to the word “inane”. Sadly, we were not treated to any great insight or wisdom on this matter either, which just goes to prove that men really can’t talk about anything other than football. Although it has to be said that a group of men employed to commentate on an international football match probably do represent the pinnacle of male development, so it’s hardly surprising that something as complex as the weather might elude them. I also enjoyed FIFAs attempts to entertain the crowd with its throw-back to the golden age of silent cinema; watching the referee regularly come out with a ball and then randomly throw it into the air and watch it land with a splash without bouncing, was a wonderful pastiche of the early greats, such as Charlie Chaplin Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton. It was raining, the pitch was clearly getting more and more waterlogged, what did he expect to happen? (If he was an astronaut he’d be the one to go outside and take off his helmet, just to check that there really wasn’t any air there.) Not a smile did he flash either, not even for a moment; I couldn’t tell if he was totally raging inside at the futility of what he was being told to do, in front of millions of people, and getting soaked doing it, or he really was taking it very seriously. Jeez, he needs to lighten up a bit. He had all the demeanour of a detective investing a serious crime scene; which considering the nonsense with the automatically closing roof that they didn’t close, he sort of was. This film also features a number of serious crime scenes.
1997 – Certificate: 18 – USA
Rating Details: Strong Bloody Violence
Try as I might, I just can’t work up any real enthusiasm for this film. I feel it ought to be a lot better than it is, which just added to my disappointment. There’s nothing really wrong with it, but nothing really right with it either. It just kind of exists because “Scream” exists, a bit like the relationship between dead leaves in autumn and trees. It’s not really very scary, it’s not really very funny, it’s not really very gory and it’s not really very hip. It doesn’t help that I get “Scream” and “Scary Movie” mixed up in my head, so in my mind it’s become a sort of inoffensive Frankenstein film made up of several others; (let’s not forget the two further sequels to “Scream” and the three sequels to “Scary Movie”. That’s eight nearly identical films, so it’s no wonder I’m confused. Watching it felt like one of things you just have to do from time to time, not something to get worked up about or anything, but just something you do and not give much thought to, like going to the toilet I guess. What I did hate was that it was non-anamorphic, so with its widescreen aspect ratio I ended up watching a picture the size and shape of an enlarged match, without a head. God, I can’t be bothered with anymore thinking about this film right now.
Recommended for people who saw Scream, I guess.
No cats, decapitations or chainsaws.
Top badass moment? Whatever. It might as well be Cotton Weary finally getting what he wanted (greedy asshole) and becoming a sort of hero(ish). That’s badass(ish).