OBSESSION

by Gina Sestak

Have you ever found yourself so obsessed by something that it began to take over your life?  As regular readers may suspect, I've been having that experience with Bollywood films.  For well over a year now, I've been watching, studying, talking about, writing about, teaching about, and otherwise going out of my way to share this obsession with anyone polite enough to listen. 

So today, gentle readers, I've decided to explain a little about why I find these films so addictive.  First, a definition:  The word Bollywood was formed by combining the words "Bombay" and "Hollywood."  Although "Bollywood" is sometimes loosely applied to any contemporary Indian film, it is generally limited to those made in the Hindi language by filmmakers based in Mumbai (the city formerly known as Bombay).  There are also several other film-making centers in India. 

Some people consider the term Bollywood pejorative.  It sounds too derivative, they reason, making it seem as if the Indian film industry is nothing more than a South Asian imitation of the California-based original.

In fact, India has been making movies for more than a hundred years.  Films were shown in Bombay as early as 1896 and Indian-made shorts were being produced by 1898.  The first Indian-made feature-length film premiered in 1913.  Modern Indian popular movies are an amalgam of this history and global influences, a vibrant contemporary industry.  India releases more films every year than any other country, including the U.S.

Mention Indian or Bollywood film to most Americans, however, and you are likely to get a blank stare or hear, "Oh, yeah.  I saw that movie, Slumdog Millionaire."

There is some question whether Slumdog Millionaire can even be considered a Bollywood movie, since it was made by a British film company and provoked controversy in India over its depiction of that country.   

Non-Indian Americans tend to shy away from viewing Bollywood films, largely due to common misconceptions:

·         Foreign films are boring.  These words are usually spoken by people who have been dragged to European films by family or friends, or forced to sit through them in high school and/or college.  They remember slow, incomprehensible plots and actors who stare morosely at the audience while white-on-white subtitles occupy the bottom of the screen.  In contrast, Bollywood films have strong plots, enlivened by action, drama and emotion.  You never have to sit in the dark, wondering what the *!& this film is about.  The actors make that clear.  And, because India is a multi-lingual country, most films are crafted to be comprehensible even if you are not conversant with Hindi.  There are subtitles, but you can follow the action without them.

·         Musicals aren't realistic, people don't sing and dance like that in real life.  Who says movies are supposed to be realistic?  No movies are realistic, they are works of art.  Besides, people who disparage musical films are usually the folks who have seen only American musical films, which are almost always based upon musical theater.  There are fundamental differences between stage and screen, and a play written to be performed in a confined space before a live audience often translates poorly to film.  Bollywood movies are written as musicals.  The song and dance sequences make full use of cinema's ability to change location and costume.  These musical sequences are colorful and beautiful, but they also tend to be integral to the plot, betraying the below-the-surface emotions of the characters and introduce elements of the plot, frequently foreshadowing events to come.  Best of all, they are a lot of fun to watch.

·        Films with romantic themes are just fluff.  Romance figures in many Bollywood films, but generally as part of a more complicated plot.   Even when romance is the primary focus, this does not necessarily imply that the film is light-weight or frivolous.  Even in modern times, many Indian marriages are arranged by the couple's parents.  Seen against that backdrop, the opportunity to fall in love and choose one's own mate has profound personal liberty implications.

·         Bollywood films don't know what they want to be; they mix up different genres.   While it is true that action, comedy, drama, romance, and melodrama often mingle in Bollywood films, this is not due to the filmmakers' indecisiveness.  Bollywood films aim to blend these disparate elements into a pleasing whole, a "masala."  "Masala" is a cooking term that refers to a perfect mix of spices.   So, too, a good Bollywood film combines multiple genres into a perfect screen experience.   

·        Bollywood movies are too long.  Bollywood films are typically longer than most American films, ranging from two-and-a-half to four hours in length.  Our experience of time, however, is a relative thing.  Five minutes spent doing something excruciatingly boring may seem like eternity, while a week's fun-filled vacation flashes by in no time.  Because Bollywood films are not boring and are engaging to watch, time passes quickly.  They don't seem unreasonably long.   Further, the length allows for the development of complex plots and sub-plots.  Unlike American films, which typically pit good guys against bad guys in a simplistic conflict, Bollywood films often pit good guys against good guys - characters who are trying to do the right thing but differ on just what that right thing is.  Thus in the 1995 classic Dilwale Dulhenia La Jayenge, Raj loves Simran and wants to marry her, but Raj has made a bad impression on Simran's father, Baldev.  Baldev has promised Simran to his friend's son.  Raj and Baldev each believes that he is in the right; the film revolves around the resolution of this conflict.  As a sub-plot, Simran's mother, an obedient wife who has always deferred to male authority figures, initially persuades Simran to agree to the arranged marriage; she later comes to realize that Raj would be a better match for her daughter and urges the young couple to elope, in defiance of her husband's wishes.   An over-arching theme explores the immigrant experience as Baldev's rose-colored memories of India clash with contemporary reality when he returns home with his London-raised daughters.  The characters grow and develop as they work through these conflicts and reach a satisfying resolution. 

·        Bollywood films are silly.  Yes and no.  While it is true that, to truly enjoy some Bollywood movies, you need a high tolerance for silliness, many of these films have serious themes.  The silliness is often just zany humor that provides comic relief.  For example, in Main Hoon Na the protagonist Major Ram is on a serious mission.  Terrorists have killed his father and are trying to derail a peace initiative with Pakistan.  Major Ram goes undercover as a college student to protect an Indian army general's daughter, while simultaneously attempting to unite his own splintered family.  When he falls for his chemistry professor, however, he reverts to every Bollywood romantic stereotype, breaking into song every time he sees her despite his best efforts to the control himself.  These scenes are hilarious, but they in no way detract from more serious aspects of the film.

·         Bollywood films are too emotional.  One noticeable difference between Bollywood and Hollywood films is the extent of emotion expressed.  Characters in American films tend to shy away from strong emotions other than anger and keep their feelings under wraps.  Bollywood actors milk emotion to the nth degree.  It's refreshing to see people actually showing feelings on screen. 

·         Bollywood films are odd, strange, and alien.  This is often true, but that can be a good thing.  Some aspects of Bollywood film seem unusual to Americans.  Young people greet elders by bending to touch their feet.  Multi-armed idols and elephants appear; apparently rational adults suddenly begin throwing colorful powders on one another.    However, because these are Indian films made primarily for an Indian audience, they give insight into another culture.  The characters come across as real complex human beings, not exotic stereotypes as they might in an American film. 

 Still not convinced?  What more can I do than let these wonderful films speak for themselves?  In this clip from Dilwale Dulhenia La Jayenge, Raj (in white) and Simran (in green) allow their feelings for one another to show, although the occasion is a celebration of Simran's engagement to the guy in black with the silver vest.   Simran's parents enter the dance near the end.  BTW, if you think Simran's voice sounds strange, it's because the song is actually being sung by a woman in her 60s.   Bollywood actors rarely do their own singing; professionals known as playback singers do the vocals and are credited.  This is not a Milli Vanilli situation - there is no deception involved; everybody knows that the actors are lip-syching.  

So, what are you obsessed with?  Care to share?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

by Gina Sestak

No, I'm not completely crazy.  I'm just acknowledging the fact that, for the first few decades of our lives, we are trained to believe that the year begins on the first day of school.  Right around Labor Day.

I'm a grown-up now, I know.   I run on adult time.  I celebrate on January 1.  I think about the year as coinciding with the date.   Still, a part of me can't help getting excited and looking forward to new things each time September rolls around.

And so, I'd like to take this opportunity to assess the year so far.  How am I doing with those five non-resolutions I proposed to follow in my January post?

In case you've forgotten, here they are:

1.   Watch movies.  I love movies in general, but I've developed an unquenchable addiction to Bollywood films in general and those starring Shah Rukh Khan in particular.   He's the world's greatest actor, and that's no lie.

I haven't changed my opinion of Mr. Khan one bit.  In fact, now that I've completed another acting for the camera class at Pittsburgh Filmmakers, I'm more impressed with him than ever.

Watch this trailer for My Name is Khan, a film in which he plays a Muslim immigrant with Asperger's Syndrome, coping with life in the US after 9/11.  It's a film I recommend to everyone, particularly at this time of the year:

My fondness for Hindi films has developed into a full-blown addiction - if you don't believe me, see below for proof.

But now, back to the non-resolutions:

2.   Dance.  Folk dancing is a long-time passion (maybe one reason I like Bollywood so much).  I'm clumsy by nature, but once I get into the flow, the music carries me.  And it's such a treat to be moving in unison with other people for a change, in contrast to my usual sense of being a square peg in a round world.

I had been folk dancing almost every week up until three weeks ago, when I injured my left leg somehow.  I'm not sure exactly what went wrong, but the pain's well-nigh unbearable.  I'm getting treatment and it feels much better now than it did last week, so I'm hopeful.  Still, I didn't bother signing up for the mid-September dance camp I usually go to.  Bummer.

3.   Learn.  I bit the bullet and registered for two more courses at Pittsburgh Filmmakers.  As I've mentioned in past posts, Filmmakers' classes tend to be labor intensive, requiring many hours of outside work.  And the Acting for the Camera course I took last semester turned out to be one of the most terrifying things I've ever done, stripping down self image and exposing all the flaws, not only in surface appearance but in my very way of being in the world.  So I signed up for the follow up class, and for a short writing course on Screenplay Character Development.  I figure that can't hurt. 

Those classes are over now and, yes, that Advanced Acting for the Camera class was pretty scary.  For the first time in a few years, though, I haven't registered for a Pittsburgh Filmmakers class this semester.  I am auditing an undergraduate film class at Pitt - Bollywood and Indian Cinema.  [See what I mean about addiction?  Can't get enough of it.]  I'm also taking a short course on Favorite Foreign Films through Pitt's Osher Lifelong Learning Institute, although I have it on good authority that no Bollywood films will be included.  [My good authority is Dave Shifren, the instructor, who's not as enthralled with Indian cinema as I am.]  Oh, and Nancy Martin's on-line course on Subtext.  This is in addition to the cd-based Hindi lessons I've been doing for a half-hour every morning for the past few months.  I really want to be able to enjoy the films without being so dependent on the subtitles!

4.   Write.  The other day, when I mentioned the screenplays, etc. I've been working on, a friend said, "You have so much self-discipline!"  I had to correct her.  It would take more discipline than I possess to make myself stop writing.  I did more collaborative writing last year, on three of the screenplays, and that's a special kind of fun, even when nobody provides a special cake.  [See my December 20, 2010 post for details.]  Maybe that's one of the things I like about filmmaking - it takes a village to make a movie, and just being part of such a creative process is incredibly energizing.

I've started working on another screenplay with Michael Lies of Alcyone Pictures, as well as continuing to revise some of my unpublished manuscripts.  

5.   Try things I've never done before.  To that end, I'm pitching a class to a Pitt program on a subject near and dear to my heart - more on that later, once I find out if it flies or not. 

I pitched the class and taught it through Pitt's Osher Lifelong Learning Institute.  The subject?  You can probably guess.  It was  King of Bollywood: The Films of Shah Rukh Khan.  Need I say more?

How has your year been progressing?  Have you been keeping resolutions?  Developing addictions?   Are you ready for the school year to begin?  Inquiring minds want to know.

MAGIC WORDS

by Gina Sestak

"Open sesame."  "Presto Chango."  "Abracadabra."

We're all familiar with the power of magic words.

It seems to me, though, that every word is magical.  A squiggle on the page, a tickle on the eardrum, can convey a complex meaning.  Every word is freighted with connotations and somewhere, deep in the recesses of our subconscious mind, we've all been programmed by words.  The language we speak colors the way we see the world.

I've always been fascinated by languages.  Before I realized that I have absolutely no talent for learning them, I used to fantasize about becoming a translator.  And so I studied Latin and French in high school, more French, Spanish and Russian in college.  I tried to learn.  I really did, but it seems as if my brain has two compartments:  "English" and "Other Stuff."  So when I'd forget the Spanish word for "rain" I'd just plug in the Russian one . . .

I've tried to learn Greek and Danish before trips to Greece and Denmark.  No luck.  So why, I wonder, have I now embarked upon trying to learn an even more difficult language?

For the past several months, I've been using the Pimsleur method to study Hindi.  Pimsleur is one of those programs that promises you'll learn a language in a week.  It's been months.  Instead of covering a half-hour lesson every day, I've had to repeat every lesson for at least a week before it started to sink in.  I'm only up to No. 14 of 30, and I can't pronounce anything correctly.  NOTHING.

Hindi sounds are different from English sounds.  Worse, I have trouble hearing exactly what each sound is.  Listening to the same speaker on the same CD, it sometimes sounds as if she's saying t and sometimes d, and so I figure that it must be something in between.  Same goes for another sound that seems to be a cross between k and g.   Then there's the one that seems to be triangulated in the center of t, d, and th.  My tongue doesn't work that way!

I'm really not aiming to learn to speak Hindi, though.  I'm trying to learn to understand enough that I can watch Bollywood films without having to be so dependent upon subtitles.  So far, I've been able to pick up some words.  I can comprehend fragments of the dialogue: but, and, or, tonight, eat, and things like that, but it would be a boring movie if the characters spoke like the Pimsleur lessons:

     "Hello."
     "Hello."
     "How are you?"
     "I am very well."
     "Do you want to drink something?"
     "Yes.  I want to drink some tea.  Do you want to drink something?"
     "I want to drink some coffee in the restaurant."

Understanding spoken Hindi is challenging enough.  I haven't even tried to learn to read - it's written in an entirely different alphabet, the Devanagari.  It looks pretty on the page, but it may as well be Greek to me.*  Here's an example - the word Om:

Yikes.

*Actually, when I was in Greece I found that I knew enough about the Greek alphabet to sound out words and sometimes guess their meanings.

At this point, you're probably wondering: What kind of flaming idiot tries to learn an entire language just to watch movies in it?

The answer is: me.

TRYING SOMETHING NEW

by Gina Sestak

I mentioned a few months back that I might be trying something new this summer.  I promised to let you know if it came through.  So far, so good.  It's starting to look like it will come to pass.

What the @#$!&*@ is she talking about? you may be wondering.  Well, I'll tell you.  Remember when I started posting here I used to write about the dozens of jobs I've held?  Wall painter, movie extra, lawyer, waitress, writer, salesclerk, etc., etc. - sometimes it seems as if I've done almost everything.  One notable exception to the list of trades was teacher.  It's not that I've never taught.  It's just that my teaching experience is limited to a few adult education courses many years ago on boring-sounding topics like "How to Incorporate Yourself."

Not that I haven't seen a lot of teaching from the far side of the lecturn.  Kindergarten, grade school, college, law school, dozens of adult education classes, and my current foray into film school.  I know what teaching looks like.  And I know what kind of courses I like to take.

I finally decided to bite the bullet and pitched a course myself, to the University of Pittsburgh's Osher Life Learning Institute.  OLLI is a special program for students who are fifty years of age or older.  For a reasonable flat fee ($225 per year, less for shorter memberships) you can take as many OLLI courses as you want, plus audit up to two undergraduate classes per semester.  It's an amazing bargain for those of us who like to learn, but don't take my word for it.  Take a look at the catalogue.  Over the past few years, I've taken classes on dozens of subjects that piqued my interest - mostly related to writing, film and music - and gone on day trips to places like the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and the Lucy and Desi Museum.

This summer, if all goes according to plan, I'll be teaching a three-day course on one of my favorite topics, Bollywood movies.

If you've been following my posts, you know Indian cinema has become an obsession of sorts.  [BTW, the Silk Screen Film Festival is going on right now in Pittsburgh, featuring dozens of Asian and Asian-American films, including a few from India.]  My course will focus on the work of a particular actor, Shah Rukh Khan.  

I've seen more than 60 of his films, and his acting shines in every one.  Romance, drama, action, comedy.  This guy can do it all.  OLLI wouldn't let me show dozens of movies, though.  I'll be showing three and, because the films are long (averaging 3-4 hours), the classes will be split - half a movie in the morning, the rest of the movie in the afternoon.  Luckily, the three I plan to show come with built in intermissions.

I took a Bollywood film course through OLLI last year and the instructor - who was much more knowledgeable on the subject than I will ever be - was reduced to showing part of a film one week and the rest a week later.  I didn't want to do that.  You lose too much by breaking a film up that way.

Anyway, I thought I'd give you a taste of the films I'll be offering.  It was really hard to choose.  I had to by-pass some of my favorites to come up with a selection.  I decided to choose based upon a variety of time periods in which the films are set.   Dilwale Duhenia Le Jayenge is relatively contemporary;  Devdas is set about a hundred years ago; and Asoka takes place in the 3rd Century BCE.  Every one of this films is worth seeing - and they're not just about romance.  There are serious themes in there.

Dilwale Dulhenia Le Jeyenge (released in 1995) begins with London-raised Raj and Simran meeting on a tour of Europe.  They fall in love, but Simran's father has arranged her marriage to a man in India.  Raj follows and tries to break up the match.

Based upon an early 20th Century novel, Devdas (2002) tells the story of a London-educated young man who bows to family pressure to give up the woman he loves, only to sink into alcoholism and despair.

Asoka (2001) is based on the true story of a man who built an empire with his sword then, overwhelmed by the horror of the destruction he had caused, forswore violence and became instrumental in the early spread of Buddhism.

All good movies.

So, wish me luck, OK?  It will be an adventure.

TELL ME A STORY

by Gina Sestak

So much information coming at us all the time.  So much controversy.  Print on demand or traditional publisher?  Paper back?  Hard cover?  Kindle?   Agent or do-it-yourself?  Critique group?  Paid editor?  Facebook, twitter, a presence on the web?  Launch parties at bookstores.  Word of mouth marketing.

OK.  It's a business.  I know that.  I try to pay attention.  Honest.

I try to read like a writer, analyzing word choice and sentence structure, plot points and genre.

But I'm happiest when I forget all that and get caught up in the story.  Any story.  It can be short.  "Veni, vidi, vici."  It can be long - I slogged through an uncut translation of Les Miserables last summer.   I look for  plot and action and compelling characters  everywhere - in books, in movies, even casual conversation.  What happened?  Who did it?  Why?  I often fail to see the point of literary fiction, thousands of beautifully chosen words formed into perfect sentences, all meaning absolutely nothing.

Maybe my tastes are too simplistic.  In a world full of deep depressing books, I keep rereading Harry Potter.   I know how it ends, but I still love to read about how everything comes together, following the way Harry obtains bits and pieces of information until he knows enough to out-guess Voldemort in the final confrontation.

I like the positive message of the books, that love can overcome evil.  [Remember that.  It's Valentine's Day, after all.]

I forego "serious" films to watch hours and hours of Bollywood, mesmerized by the music and dancing and unexplained costume changes.   And the good strong stories, compelling characters and plots (often about serious subjects) and satisfying endings.

Maybe that's all it takes:  An intriguing beginning, a compelling middle, and a satisfying end.

I know that is enough for me.

I can't help but focus on the story.  I can't help thinking that the most powerful four words in the English language may be, "Once upon a time . . . "

INTO THE FUTURE

by Gina Sestak

OK, I admit it.  I'm a bit behind the times.  Ten days, to be exact.  That's no reason not to celebrate, though, is it?

I didn't go out on New Year's Eve - stayed home and drank pomegranate juice instead of champagne, getting high on antioxidents.

I don't have anything against drinking alcohol.  It just tends to make me sleepy, and I'm tired enough already that I don't need help from chemicals.

I started this year with no expectations.  I'm not anticipating finally getting a novel published.  I don't have any WIP I need to finish.  I'm crossing my fingers on those Steeltown Entertainment Project entries, but not holding my breath.  As for the two feature-length screenplays, I'm still doing everything I can to get them made into movies.  At this point, that's a money issue, best left to folks who know about that kind of thing, but believe me, if I hit the Powerball, I know what I'll be doing with my millions!

I haven't made any resolutions, but my plan for this year is to do things that are fun.  So here's my top five list of things I plan to do this year just for my own amusement:

1.   Watch movies.  I love movies in general, but I've developed an unquenchable addiction to Bollywood films in general and those starring Shah Rukh Khan in particular.   He's the world's greatest actor, and that's no lie.



2.   Dance.  Folk dancing is a long-time passion (maybe one reason I like Bollywood so much).  I'm clumsy by nature, but once I get into the flow, the music carries me.  And it's such a treat to be moving in unison with other people for a change, in contrast to my usual sense of being a square peg in a round world.

3.   Learn.  I bit the bullet and registered for two more courses at Pittsburgh Filmmakers.  As I've mentioned in past posts, Filmmakers' classes tend to be labor intensive, requiring many hours of outside work.  And the Acting for the Camera course I took last semester turned out to be one of the most terrifying things I've ever done, stripping down self image and exposing all the flaws, not only in surface appearance but in my very way of being in the world.  So I signed up for the follow up class, and for a short writing course on Screenplay Character Development.  I figure that can't hurt.

4.   Write.  The other day, when I mentioned the screenplays, etc. I've been working on, a friend said, "You have so much self-discipline!"  I had to correct her.  It would take more discipline than I possess to make myself stop writing.  I did more collaborative writing last year, on three of the screenplays, and that's a special kind of fun, even when nobody provides a special cake.  [See my December 20, 2010 post for details.]  Maybe that's one of the things I like about filmmaking - it takes a village to make a movie, and just being part of such a creative process is incredibly energizing.

5.   Try things I've never done before.  To that end, I'm pitching a class to a Pitt program on a subject near and dear to my heart - more on that later, once I find out if it flies or not.

I don't think these can count as resolutions.  Resolutions for me have always boiled down to: Stop being the way I am and start being the way I'm not.  These are different.  They're more along the line of:  Start being the way I really am.  Have fun.

How about you?  What are your plans for 2011?

SING! DANCE! ACT!

by Gina Sestak

The theme of the month is things for which we are thankful.

Everyone who's been reading my posts for the last few years knows I love movies, so it's a no-brainer that I'm thankful for cinema magic.  What you may not know is that my very favorite form of film is the musical, so I guess I'm thankful for those most of all.

Huh?  you may ask.  Aren't musicals kind of silly?  I mean, people breaking into song in public places, suddenly dancing in the street and wearing fancy costumes.  That's not realistic!

So who said movies have to be realistic?  The characters on film change size from tiny little ants seen from a high-set window to massive faces speaking at us from the screen.  They travel in a matter of seconds from LA to London or the jungles of Vietnam or the deserts of North Africa.  One person can age 30 years in minutes, be born, grow up and die before we finish eating half that tub of popcorn.

Movies are not realistic.  They are works of art, and musical sequences add a subtext of emotion that may be difficult, if not impossible, to express solely through dialogue.

[Unfortunately, I had trouble importing youtube videos into this post, so you'll have to click on the links to view the musical interludes mentioned below.]

I first realized I loved musicals when I saw Oliver!, the song-and-dance version of Oliver Twist.  Watch how this scene captures the young orphan's wonder at the bustle of London life, while keeping Dickens' focus on the contrast between poverty and wealth.  Spectacular, isn't it?  Can you imagine replacing it with dialogue?
       Oliver:    It's nice to wake up in a clean room instead of with those other kids at Fagin's.
       Servant:  Just look out the window.  [Scene of people hawking wares in street.]
       Oliver:    Wow.  Having money really makes a difference, even though there are a few things money can't buy.
Doesn't have the same magic, does it?

My favorite film of all time is Reefer Madness - The Movie Musical.   No kidding.  This version of the 1930s anti-drug movie is a hilarious satire that questions both the dictates of a misinformed government and the power of manipulated peer pressure.  Not to mention featuring one of the most extreme reactions to a toke imaginable, when innocent high school student Jimmy is lured to the reefer den with the promise of a dance lesson.  Watch this.  [Warning - it's a bit risque, with near nudity and sexual content.  If you think you'd be offended, please ignore this link.]  If you really want to be offended, watch this one, too.  If you prefer something tame and literary, or would like to see what Jimmy was like before encountering the evil weed, try this.

Then there's Mamma Mia, the story of a woman who comes face to face with her past when old friends and lovers come to attend her daughter's wedding.  Here's a sample, full of infectious exuberance.  [Oops.  That's kind of risque, too, but only a little.  Blink when Christine Baranski takes the red flower out of the vase and you'll miss it.]  Who would have thought Julie Walters (Ron's mom in the Harry Potter films) could move like that?  Or Meryl Streep?

Lately, I've been getting into Bollywood films, one of the more extreme versions of the movie musical.  The incomprehensibility of the lyrics bothers a word-oriented English-speaker like myself, but the amazing dancing more than makes up for that.  Witness the following sequence from Dil Se, a serious movie in which a radio reporter (played by Shah Rukh Khan, the guy in the red jacket) falls in love with a mysterious woman who has a dangerous secret.  I originally saw this video playing on a screen in an Indian restaurant, and didn't realize it was from a film.  My first thought was, "Those people are out of their minds!"

My current favorite Bollywood film is Om Shanti Om (click this link to watch the trailer), which pokes fun at films and stardom but has a wonderful (albeit strange) story line of love and loss, murder and justice, death and rebirth.  It was hard to pick something from it to link to - I like it all.  There's a long party scene in which many of the stars of Indian cinema make cameo appearances, and a hilarious music video called The Pain of Disco.  I finally decided to include this sequence, in which a Bollywood bit player (Shah Rukh Khan again), who has a major crush on a superstar, imagines himself in her latest movie.  I really like this silly stuff.

What's all this got to do with writing? you've probably been wondering.  A lot.  There's more to writing than putting words down on a page, or crafting an accurate description.  We have to convey emotion, too, and make our words do the work of the performers in these videos.  Our words have to sing and dance and act upon the emotions of the reader.  That's what separates well-written prose from a traffic report, in my humble opinion.

So, how do you feel about musicals?  Love them?  Hate them?  Please comment below and, if you like musical movies, what is your favorite?  Why?