PROLOGUE: ANOTHER ‘GENERATION’ OF BLOG POSTS, OR, A NO-NONSENSE PRACTICAL GUIDE TO HOW TO LOSE YOUR READERS EVEN BEFORE YOU START TO WRITE

It is difficult to characterize my latest attempt at starting to post my write-ups on, about and around cinema once again on this blog as a ‘rebirth’. You do not get out of your grave after more than three years; even by “Twilight Saga” standards, that is highly unhygienic (and let us—civilized and decent people—not talk about the supposed real-life lack of personal hygiene of the uber-famous male star of the franchise—please!). Rather, this is the second ‘generation’ of this blog. Well, first of all, generation because my monomaniac ego is tickled by the prospect of trans-generational hyper-activity. There is also the minor glitch that even craps—that too of my standard, or the utter lack thereof—need to be ‘generated’ (see, I refrain from becoming scatological already!). And lastly, I hope and I fear that the newest ‘avatar’ will denote significant shifts from the older mode of looking at cinema. My purpose here is mainly to provide a tentative road-map of these potential changes.

But before that, I—in all honesty—need to provide the subjective background that pre-empts this change. And the simple matter of the fact is that when I last posted on this blog, I was truly and pathetically caged and repressed within a ‘corporate’ world (note: in third-world countries, that word actually stands for corporeal punishment), and hence, I was trying my pathetic best to please all parties concerned in the reviews. I did not want confrontations beyond a certain tolerable level; I was being house-trained in finding garden-variety ‘positives’ everywhere (Think positive!). Now, more than three years later and living in a very different city, I cannot possibly—even in my worst nightmares—begin to imagine doing that again. Three years ago, cinema was my escape; today, it is a part of my profession and everyday thought (which does not denote intellectual advancement at all; simply, now I am a student of films). Hence, I am afraid, the very tonality of my readings of films will be different. Secondly, I fear that more and more my thoughts will tend to move from the particular to the general, and readers will often find me looking at films as symptoms of the very health of the society to which such artefacts belong. Thirdly, and most importantly, I shall from now onwards also include a lot of analyses of Bengali and Hindi cinema, and—if the chance arises—other Indian cinemas from other industries.

There is something expressly maniacal about a blog-writer starting his blog: he writes presuming an absent readership, with the attendant existential angst of an egg behaving like a chicken. Thankfully, however, I belong to an utterly schizophrenic field called academics where things are presumed that can make Norman Bates blush. I am blessed. Anyway, there are two ways in which a blog-writer’s mania operates: either, he tries too hard to please his—absent, at that—readers, or, he tries to use pass Esperanto for English. Orson Welles once said that he found it disturbing that his younger generation used such long words; the younger, the longer the word got. My generation is even more absurd. Take this favourite cuss-word of film students for example: HETERONORMATIVITY (if you thought it is a horror movie in the league of ‘Arachnophobia’, you are profound). I first heard this word at a classroom from a hyper-urban, metro-sexual woman whose dimensions can easily challenge a strip of spaghetti; I came out with my castration complex in hand! I solemnly vow I shall not use such secret codes; and indeed, one of the pleasures I want to derive from writing this blog again is to enjoy the freedom of speaking simply. Which does not mean things will be simple; simpletons and simplifications are two of my pet allergies. However, even complex arguments can offer an equal chance of decipherment to everyone; I can and want to promise any and every reader that and only that.

More alarmingly, the readers of blogs can be even more maniacal. There is a whole dictionary of new codes that designates these new cyber-beings; for example, trolls, moles, snots, globs, gluttons, sea-calf-chattering-at-basso-profundo etc. I do not need them. If I have explained why I have found some actor’s work tedious, please do not comment to the effect that you love him/her and think that the sun comes up his/her...anyway. That is not a debate; it is basking in ‘contraries’. I do not like to wallow, and worst of all, I do not like to watch others wallow. If—let’s say—I have presented a critique of ce

rtain kind of ‘Art Cinema’ as politically and/or creatively dangerous, please do not comment that you love such films and you find them profound. I know that. I have been to Film Festivals. I am working my ass off here to present arguments; if you need to engage in a conversation, try to reciprocate that gesture. I believe I can demand that in all fairness. And, please, if you expect political correctness here, I am an impenitent criminal. If you are looking for a fellow traveller, try communicating with the ghost of Mr William Hayes (and convey our regards).

But then, why write the blog at all? In other words, what is the relation between maintaining this blog and the work I am expected to churn out within the field of film scholarship? Well, I personally hope that the relationship will prove to be complementary. Film Studies, as a discipline, is clearly the result of a historical sundering from the field of firstly film criticism and then film activism, and this division-of-labour has been global. Consequently, these are things one can and cannot do within the field of academics. Worse, there are things one cannot say within the field of academics, at least in certain forms. For example, one cannot really judge a film anymore; even if one can, one cannot condemn. The self-assured inferiority complex of a practice-less field necessarily wallows in false humility; my attempt here is to find out whether it is still possible to short-circuit the division. To do so is precisely to write a different language. It cannot be simply the language of the academia or the language of a half-baked rancid Bollywood “Adarsh Critic”; one needs to find a synthesis, one needs to envision a change in the diction in both directions. Is there a possibility of a ‘public sphere’ of film criticism that can maintain a relative autonomy vis-a-visthe simplifying language of th e contemporary market? Can we envision a community of people actually thinking (and not fact-finding, collecting, obsessing, culture-bashing, author-worshipping) in/of/about cinema, anymore? These are the loftiest expectations of my limited attempt;

I am almost convinced that it will fail. But there is a satisfaction to be derived even if one freely chooses the losing side, even if the hand in the game is forced by fate.

I have reserved the last words for the fans of the “Twilight Saga” movie fans. We will—I swear—talk about your favourite movie series and your favourite stars all the time. Indeed, it might seem we are obsessed with them. They will be our favourite garden-gnomes, goitre-d ghouls, etc etc. We will compare their flavours with ten-day old dry bogies. So, repressed boys-&-girls, would-be-spinsters-with-rolling-eyes, fake-leather-sugar-candies, chastity-fixated virgin-seekers, stick to this page, although your mental health will hereafter not be our responsibility.

I do not believe in copyrights, and shall be using relevant pictures from the internet. Please note that these will not be used for any commercial purpose whatsoever.

Lastly, this is a slightly belated birthday gift for Chandrika Acharya. I hope she will approve of it.

Amen.