Exploring the music of Iruvar :: 'uDal maNNukku'

song: uDal maNNukku
recited by: Arvind Swamy

uDal maNNukku tells the tale of how Anandam (unofficially representing M.G.R. in Mani Ratnam's fictional universe) in Iruvar becomes a star. Like the previous two songs dissected so far on this blog, this poetic recital comes from within a 'mousetrap'-ed film ("Veeraprathaban"). But unlike the other two, this is the first song to carry interesting political connotations (that reach their climax in the magnificent 'aayirathil naan oruvan' song.)

Note that MGR's first success as 'hero' came in the 1947 Rajakumari, written by one M.Karunanidhi.

film context
After suffering the ignominy of seeing his first film as hero shut down due to financial trouble, Anandan has finally found new hope in a historical. This is also a good time to introduce his good friend Tamilchelvan to films. In addition to being a budding political activist, he also writes commanding prose and poetry. Given the situation by the director ("a brave Tamil revolutionary has to rescue a kidnapped 'rajakumari'"), Tamilchelvan starts to pen his lyrics. We switch to the picturised song and end with great applause and adulatory mayhem in the cinema theatres.

the music
In what is more of a recitation than a conventional song, the arrangements are extremely spare, with just a string section (violins mainly) accompanying a deep string swipe. Briefly punctuated by strong percussions and "fight" music, the staccato melody returns with choral accompaniment. This provides a perfectly belligerent mood to the on-screen action.

I don't think the music references any work of that period, and in that sense is quite different from the other songs in the album which at their core had elements reflecting the times.

the playback
Perhaps the kindest explanation of why Arvind Swamy provides the voice for this song (and another lyrical narration later) is that Mani Ratnam saw him as some sort of lucky mascot, what with both of his previous Ratnam appearances turning into hits. Swamy's diction is poor in places (jarring for a song that significantly extols Tamil chauvinism via its lyrics) and his voice tends to get hoarse at the end. Perhaps lyricist Vairamuthu could have taken the mantle upon himself for these songs?

the lyrics
Though the music does not seem to make any explicit allusions to the age, this is not the case with the lyrics. The lines "uDal maNNukku, uyir tamizhukku" (body for the Tamil soil, life for Tamil itself) was a major clarion call during the 60s. The DMK used it as a rallying phrase in their anti-Hindi protests, so this is a politically loaded phrase. The rest of the lyrics invoke an ominous gravity through the choice of words, a hallmark of DMK writers epitomised by M. Karunanidhi.

You could, therefore, interpret the song as an example of how the politically active film-men of the times wrote with two objectives in mind: one, meeting the ostensible goals of the screenplay, but importantly, two, of creating material that would have a life outside the theatre. Each chant in this song invokes Tamil pride and the determination of those 'revolutionaries' who thought themselves as its protectors in the face of the northern imposition.

the picturisation
The song presents several set-pieces from the historical movies of those times: horseback hero wielding cutlasses fighting off enemy soldiers; sceneries involving chains and bells and ropes; the hapless belle waiting to be rescued; stylised fighting (we saw this right upto the nineties!). In B&W, this song introduces Ramani (Gowthami) in the film, ending with the leads being overwhelmed by the huge reaction of the crowds to what has become a massive hit. Anandan is now a bona fide star.

Useful references
1. The chapter on The Anti-Hindi Agitation in Vaasanthi's book "Cut-outs, Caste and Cine Stars"
2. I can't seem to find any lyrics online

Next post: 'Hello, Mr. Ethirkatchi'
Previous post: 'Poo KoDiyin Punnagai'

Titular Magic

Titular Magic

Film titles are usually of the boringly mundane kind. You can't blame them - their makers have a film to sell. The titles have many a burden to carry: they must convey the right impression about the plot (Sholay and Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge), attract attention (do you really expect people to go and see a film called Hazaaro.n Khwaishe.n Aisi when they could see Dhoom?), and be sufficiently functional (Bunty aur Babli and The Burning Train).

Not everyone is inclined to go on a flight of fancy, but sometimes some do. Cheeni Kum raised my eyebrows slightly, but it now seems like a nice title, one with several facets to it. One, it could indicate the age of the male protagonist (a low-sugar-daddy, if you please), or two (which has been indicated as the main reason) a not-so sweet romantic story, or even three, a nod to the supposedly sarcastic ways of the chef in question.

Some Tamil movies have smelt fragrantly of names. Mani Ratnam's Mouna Ragam (literally: 'the silent raag'), Alaipayuthey (evoking both the restless ocean and a famous devotional song), or Kannathil Muthamittal (literally: (if) 'kissed on the cheek'). An Aazhtha Ezhuthu (the Tamil character made of three dots) was lost in translation to Yuva. Similarly, Gautham Menon showed a creative mind in picking the likes of Kaaka Kaaka (literally: "to protect", also a well-known fragment from a religious hymn) and Vettaiyadu Vilayadu (literally: "to hunt and play") for his similarly tuned cop themes.

Several English movies also seem to have boldly chosen names that branch off oddly from the beaten path (yes, yes, the majority still go for a Snakes on a Plane or a Commando). My all time favourites would be Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and American Beauty.

Memories of "Agni Nakshatram"

No, the searing temperatures have nothing to do with this nostalgia trip. After many years, the songs of Agni Nakshatram¹ (dir: Mani Ratnam, music: Ilaiyaraja) splashed sonorously on the ears, and provoked memories of that 1989 summer when I first watched the movie.

The occasion had been a family gathering of some sort. I was just about getting introduced to the world of contemporary Tamil cinema after our move to Madras (I did not know words like "contemporary" then, mind you). I don't know if we watched the film in the middle of May, but a VCR and tape procured by enthusiastic cousins came as a sparkling relief on a Sunday afternoon.

The film is one of the best entertainers I can remember having seen - a rocking 3 hours filled with whistle-worthy dramatic and action scenes, and one heck of a music score. It's been a while since I've seen movies like Rangeela and this, which not only regale unabashedly, but also get their elements spot on. A Prabhu with a reputation for pudginess became this big, tough inspector with a penchant for arresting half-brother Karthik who was reprising his Mouna Ragam cameo as a street-lad. Both were being pursued (respectively, of course) by the not-much-to-do-in-2nd-half lead actresses, delicate Amala and mysterious Nirosha. Add to it political intrigue, hospital climaxes, brothers-at-throats episodes among muddy stables, soft-focus lighting, and the persistent suffusion of disco, and you have a terrific ride. Oh, and the exceptional comedy track featuring Janakaraj and V.K.Ramaswamy - just thinking about Janakaraj doing a lap of pure joy when the bus leaves sets my giggle-centres off.

Back to the songs: The eyebrow-raising "ninnukori varNam" which took the first few words of the childhood varnam and spun it off into a Chitra special, the Karthik-statement-of-life in "raaja..." voiced by the Raja himself, the courting song "rojaa puu" set in a gym (of all places) allowing Amala and gang to show off their flourescent leotards, "oru puu.ngaavanam" featuring Nirosha doing multiple laps of freestyle in an Olympic swimming pool (must confess that there is a limit to watching anyone do that, and so we fast-forwarded the song to great hilarity), the much more conventional love-songs, full of saris and feelings, in "thuu.ngaatha vizhigaL" and "vaa vaa anbe anbe". Quite a treat overall.

The power of the scenes and dialogues, the novelty of the song situations and the lighting, the sheer fun of the film - those were less judgemental times!

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1: Agni Nakshatram refers to a period in May at which the summer heat is supposed to be at its most extreme.

'Guru' - a movie review

Mani Ratnam's Guru was probably intended to be his Hindi equivalent of what Alaipayuthe was in Tamil - a return to simpler story-telling after the adventures of Yuva and Iruvar. Alaipayuthe was a big hit, fuelled by the popularity of the music, the 'youth quotient' of the story, and the freshness of the lead pair. Guru, in contrast, has a much more subdued soundtrack appeal, a more ponderous story line, and a pair whose main acting cheers have only come before in Ratnam films.

Despite the mandatory Mani Ratnam opening disclaimer, Guru makes several clear references to the life of Dhirubhai Ambani, not just in spirit, but also in details like Burmah Shell, the paralysis, and the business domain. The story places Gurukant Desai as the canny and enterprising protagonist, and doesn't quite show the shades of grey as much as one would expect. The result is a film shrouded primarily in old-style Indian mainstream film colours - a clearly defined protagonist with the occasional misdemeanours that you turn a blind eye too that the story must end happily for. As a result, don't expect any significant surprises with the story. Yet, the story is warmly told.

The plot tells of dynamic businessman Guru (Abhishek Bachchan), his wife Sujata (Aishwarya Rai), his ambivalent relationship with friend/mentor/foe Manik 'Nanaji' Dasgupta (Mithun Chakraborty), Nanaji's ward (I didn't quite understand their relationship) Minu (Vidya Balan), the angry young journalist Shyam Saxena (R. Madhavan) and a host of small parts. Guru is one-dimensional in the sense that all he worries about is getting to next buck. The tale takes us through 30 years of his life in becoming India's top businessman. I read Gita Piramal's book 'Business Maharajahs', especially the section on Dhirubhai Ambani, a few months ago and realised that though these men have extremely exciting lives on their corporate battlefields (and none more interesting than Ambani's own), it is quite difficult to convey that excitement to the reader. This is true of Guru as well.

The film's biggest problem is that it never hits any signficiant high notes for too long. The rousing defence speech at the end is quite well-made, but comes in too late to save the ship. The Vidya Balan angle seems very superfluous to proceedings and was perhaps placed to keep Nanaji and Guru connected during their period of warfare. The reporter bit is a little wasted too.

The other big contender for "oh no" moments are some of the song placements. For a while, Mani Ratnam has struggled with songs, even though he defends the idea in almost all his interviews. The songs crept back into Yuva (even Rahman admitted recently that they "started apologetically"), and in Guru, they appear too close to each other, aren't quite exploited, or are plainly an unnecessary reflex from an age when 6 song situations were blocked out on screen-time. 'Mayya Mayya' cleverly blends into the title sequence (a nice shuffling of paper). 'Barso Re' is supposed to be an introduction to the heroine's character, but a more definitive underlining happens with her actions towards the end of the song, which rendered the song unnecessary. Instead, it becomes a mere clone of 'chinna chinna' (Roja) or even 'konjum mainakkaLe' (Kandukondain...)(1) and an excuse to give Rai some pretty screen time. The gorgeous 'Aye hairath-e-aashiqui' fades into the background only to appear sporadically. 'Baazi Lagaa' is the aural equivalent of a blink-and-miss. 'Tere Bina' is wonderful to listen to, but the choreography was looked like a series of out-takes. I wonder if that was intentional. I liked the counterpoint of the situation for the song, but for a better use of that device, refer Rang De Basanti. The film begins with the anthemic 'Jaage.n hai der tak', but its relative absence in the rest of the film doesn't seem to justify its theme status. However, Rahman does pull a surprise with the version with Guru's daughters singing it - a very emotional chord is struck at that point. 'Yamo Yamo' is so late and useless that even Wodehouse wouldn't be able to find an adequate simile. You need to sit down and have a think about the songs, Mr. Ratnam. The usually innovative choreography of your films was insipid this time.

That's not to claim that there aren't any other moments of interest - a couple of nice editing cuts, the domestic chemistry between Sujata and Guru (Mani Ratnam has traditionally been good at portraying middle-class mores) and the attack on Nanaji. Mithun Chakraborty (in a respectful touch, he is credited first) is very good in a role, the kind of which I'm sure no one's seen him do in a long time. With all the dancing and flying, we tend to forget the wonderful straightforward acting talent that he has selectively put on display. This will remove the rust from those memories. Abhishek Bachchan gets full points for effort. I can think of very few 'stars' who would be willing to let themselves go physically in the manner seen and display a paunch proudly, but I guess this is the famed 'I will do anything for Mani Ratnam' effect. Acting-wise, he does a decent job with some flares of excellence. But he is by no means a naturally gifted talent like his dad or even a Hrithik Roshan, and that shows (2). People who have surprised by comments that Aishwarya Rai actually acted well in Iruvar will see what I mean when they see this film. For one, she isn't at all irritating. Moments of affected lower-class touches as seen in Raincoat are very, very few. The best test is when she is not the focus of a frame (as happens several times) and she remains in character. It's a director-driven performance that should decrease some of the flak she's received. Personally, I found her performance to be good. (An interesting touch was that the film portrays her as someone who is slightly older to Guru, just as in real life!)

A host of minor cast appearances can be spotted, mostly competent - Dhritiman Banerjee was a bit of a surprise. Rajeev Menon's camerawork was too jittery for my liking, and I long for the days of P.C.Sriram or Santosh Sivan. Vijay Acharya's dialogues were a little patchy - the finale speech was well-done - but this film needed some magic in the dialogues which was missing. One wonders whether the outcome would have been different had Anurag Kashyap continued to work on it (he, along with other Mani Ratnam writing regulars, Tamil writer Sujata and Suhasini, receives a credit for additional dialogues.) Nice art direction as usual by Samir Chanda, with the old posters of Kaagaz Ke Phool and Naya Daur, the Turkish spots, and the tram that plays its part at one point.

If you're one whose followed the films of Mani Ratnam, then you'll be disappointed with this film and its place in the ordered filmography. Mani Ratnam has done much better in the past, and with one arm behind his back. However, it seems to me that those viewers without that baggage may warm to Guru. After all, the films I don't seem to think much of do fairly well at the box office, and if it happens here, I wouldn't complain too much. It's a sincere effort, commendably without any gimmicks unlike other big productions, and one that attempts a cosmopolitan touch. For the head-shakers, a viewing of Iruvar or Kannathil... or Nayagan or Mouna Ragam may be in order.

And...
* Trailer watch before the film showed glimpses of both films on top of my drool-list: The Blue Umbrella, which now will be distributed by UTV on a bigger scale, and 'Black Friday', which is coolly exploiting the fact the film was banned for two years in the trailer (I could see snatches of scenes of the 45 minutes missing in the bootleg print). (All news about both via George 's blog)

Reviews: The film seems to be getting mixed but mostly positive reviews. Rediff's Raja Sen was first off the blocks with feelings of what may have been, Baradwaj Rangan's happy with several aspects but questions some of the morality.

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1. incidentally involving both the directors of those films here.
2. and obviously, we aren't even going to talk about previous Ratnam bio-pic actors like Kamalhassan or Mohanlal
3. Personal highlight: first time I've done a "first day, first show"!

The music of Guru

Guru: a film by Mani Ratnam, lyrics by Gulzar, music by A.R.Rahman
(biggish post - apologies for the OD)

So the latest collaboration between the big names is out. An opinion:

Barso Re: Shreya Ghosal kicks off proceedings in this typical Mani Ratnam heroine introduction song (usually accompanied by water). Pleasant progression of the melody with a lot of humming (quite a feature of the album). The flat percussive slaps in the beginning were a little annoying, but this is a good and uncomplicated song without being too spectacular. I was a little disappointed at not hearing more of Uday Mazumdar and the Gujarati flavour - he is limited to a few fragments.

Tere Bina: This on the other hand is one of those songs that grabs you by the collar and borrows your breath as it advances - and you don't mind. A.R.Rahman picks up the mike for this one (giving himself another great song to croon!), is into his now traditional alaaps early. The use of the lyrics of the mukhaDaa again later in the song was really unexpected and nicely done. Chinmayi is mindblowingly good - even though she only joins in late. It's hard to recognise her voice off the bat. She provides an interesting counterpoint to Rahman's voice, which is naturally higher on the register. In contrast, Chinmayi adopts a gravity and Hindustani classical lilt (she talks on her blog about her classical and ghazal lessons, so they're paying off!), moving into alto and then back into full voice. This should earn her a lot of notice outside tamil film music, and very deservedly. Be prepared for a full-blown Mani Ratnam choreographic experience on this one to match the richness of the orchestration.

Ek Lo Ek Muft: When I first heard this, it brought a smile to my face - first, I wasn't quite expecting the Bappi song to turn out this way, and secondly, that Rahman finally did a song like this in Hindi. It's quite daft and demented, Bappida has been made to sing all over the place - but I'm willing to accept it as a bhang-babble song. The Gujarati section is very well used here, and it was fun getting a friend to translate them for me ("Joye" means "chaahiye" and the rest of the lyrics are about needing two grooms for the two twin daughters - the situation of the song). Chitra is again a surprise, in terms of how her voice has been modulated. The song could, however, do with a little more zing. I suggest not over-hearing this song (it doesn't offer that much outside the context), but come back to it once in a while and one should be satisfactorily amused. The opening is all ga.njiiraa and sounds almost Bangla-baul like, and then goes all the way east. Bappida's "slurring" is actually quite charming, quite like the man.

Mayya Mayya: This is a good song to recall the past. It invokes a situation quite like "naan sirithaal diipawaaLi" from Nayakan, a risqué "item" song (Mallika Sherawat will shakety-shake here, of course), the usual double-barrelled Rahman lyric, and finally the Arabic flavour. Maryem Tollar, Keerthi and Chinmayi combine for this one. While it never quite hits any great heights, it's a fairly decent song. (I'm sure one'll see the word "experimental" tagged to this song, but that's usually a fan-euphemism for "I don't want to say I didn't like it" ;-).) The Middle-East arrangements are interesting to hear as is the Gujarati mix towards the end.

Aye hairath-e-aashiqui: My personal favourite of the album, and that's because the seemingly conventional nature of the song, not despite it. Hariharan and Alka Yagnik are in a ghazal-like duet which includes a romantic tease and the gearing up for love after marriage (the accompanying images indicate a wedding in the air). And again, whenever Rahman has used the harmonium, the output has been charming - this is no exception. It's gratifying to know that there is a lot of sweetness left even in these conventional structures even though we demand novelty all the time. Mixing in the "dham-dhara-dham" aural backbone works well with the song as do the interludes.

Baazi Lagaa: The frightening non-Rahmanesque-ness of this song can possibly be explained by describing the song as being very, very functional in the context of the film. The arrangements seem to echo a 80s film music feel with the violins and accordions, the chorus and general hullabaloo, but I can only imagine an accompanying montage detailing Guru's money-mindedness, which surely must be pre-80s? Still, the visuals will reveal all. Udit Narayan, Madhushree and others sing this slightly cynical look at the allure of money, and it ain't all that bad as it may seem on repeated hearings - the feet begin to tap a little. If it turns out to be a "dol"-like montage from "Yuva", I'd be looking forward.

Jaage Hain: A magnificent flourish to end the album, this orchestral and highly instrumental piece probably illustrates the bent of the film. Chitra and Rahman progress in differing ways - the first time you listen to this, surprises are guaranteed. The 1:30 minute long string section takes you up the inspiration scales ending with the Madras Chorale Group. Incidentally, the song bears an uncanny resemblance to "Lag Jaa Gale" from Woh Kaun Thi.

Now to the old maestro himself. Every Gulzar album is also a little language lesson, and this one taught me "besuaadii" and "chasm-e-nam". Incidentally, this album is exceedingly onomatopoeic in nature, so we see a lot of humming and yodelling. The music and phonemes do go hand-in-hand. A brief review of the album, lyric-wise:

Gulzar pulls out the same "kosaa-bosaa" rhyme we also saw with "Jag Jaa" (Omkaara) for "Barso Re", and there is some very pleasing rural imagery woven in. The romanticism of "Tere Bina" is quite old-fashioned and engaging. "Besuaadii" is the word of the album, by miles! "Ek Lo" shows why Gulzar is right in considering himself to be the best nonsense lyric writer around (consider the musings on double offers and even the appearance of "loadshedding"). "Mayya Mayya" in its "propositioning" lyrics is actually quite skillfully done without any over hint of lewdness (quite like "biiDii" from Omkara). "Ay hairath-e-aashiqui" is downright wonderful. The female section's tease "kyo.n urduu-faarsii bolate ho" brought forth a chuckle, for that sounds like a self-deprecatory joke, while the next line "das kehate ho do tolate ho" is a gentle dig at the protagonist's far-from-scrupulous ways. The song's last major lyric section is a sublime summary of the arranged match, and worth a recount:

do chaar mahiin se lamho me.n
umro.n ke hisaab bhi hote hai.n
jinhe.n dekhaa nahi.n kal tak kahii.n bhii
ab kok me.n woh chahare bote hai.n

Jaage Hai.n is a nice poem and typical of the Gulzar repertoire: let me sleep for a while, they sing, let me finish my half-dreams first, and then I can wake up and try and fulfill them. The quiet defiance and resolve is well underscored by the choral track.

Guru plays a lot of singers against type. Chinmayee and Chitra sound a lot more robust than we are accustomed to, and pull it off. Rahman takes on an even bigger singing role than before, and does a decent job musically. Bappi Lahiri has been used very differently, and it's only with Shreya Ghosal, Hariharan and Alka Yagnik that we come to some semblance of normality. However, a major complaint must be made of the diction. It's very nice to note that dialect coaches were used (and credited!), but in many of the songs, it was quite hard to pick up the pronounciation. I know Rahman has usually opted for musicality and "cuteness" over diction in the past, but it's a little tiring to have to figure out what they're trying to say. The affliction even hits the like of Hariharan, with only the ladies getting it mostly right. It also masks the impact of the lyrics.

And while on the subject of cribs, the CD is priced at a hefty 160/-. I know this is a premium combination with quite a track-record, but even then, 160/- is pricey (in fact, it's the most expensive CD I've bought). The CD comes with a lyrics booklet which has been well-designed visually, but the actual transliteration of lyrics is nothing short of shocking. The lyrics (written in English) have several inconsistencies in spelling, have omissions of words ("baazi lagaa" has the word "arabo.n" missing), includes lines that seem to be nowhere in the Bappi song - all in all, not what I want to get in a product for which I pay premium prices.

Another crib is about the distribution: why do releases happen overseas first and then in India? (The music went out on Thursday in the US, while being available on Friday late evening or Saturday. Omkara had the same problem.) Surely, it ought to be simultaneous or at least start here first? It caused me to fidget all morning with all the reactions pouring in, and I ended up searching high and low (successfully) for rips on the web. It is a much awaited album and I'm sure there was a major hit in productivity among a section of people last Friday :-). Also, it drives people to seek mp3s even if they don't really mean to.

All in all, a very satisfying album for the fan, but there are enough elements to hook the average disinterested listener. Multiple-listenings advised, but as much for the functional songs. If the usual Mani Ratnam choreography standards for such kind of films will materialise, then we could be in for a treat.

And finally, I wonder what happened to the cool rock and roll theme we heard on the website?

P.S.: great gesture by ARR to dedicate Tere Bina to the memory of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It's fitting because ARR considers him to be one of his gurus, and after all, they were the Gurus of Peace.

Exploring the music of Iruvar :: 'Poo KoDiyin Punnagai'

song: poo koDiyin punnagai
singer: Sandhya

film context
Poo KoDiyin Punnagai is chronologically the third song in Iruvar (we'll look at the second later). Just like Narumugaiye, it's a song for a film-within-the-film, featuring Anandan and Ramani (Gautami) as his heroine. They've starred in an earlier hit (Anandan's first success as a hero) and the song mirrors their growing relationship in real life. (Anandan's wife Pushpa has earlier died during childbirth.) Incidentally, "Ramani" is the role in the movie that corresponds to V.N.Janaki in real-life, the actress who marries "Anandan"/MGR.

The song is immaculately featured as a set of classic set-pieces of the 60s, usually with a (fake) garden backdrop at night (painted moon glittering in the yonder pond). The heroine has bashful dance-steps around the hero, who in contrast, stands confident and solid, dressed in his suit (yes, then a lot of Tamil film heroes wore suits and ties in films in everday life!) and doesn't have to do much of the dancing. Or set in a huge palatial house with stairwells. Puff blouses and flowers later, you get the picture.

the music, the playback
You could be mistaken for thinking this was a lost Viswanathan-Ramamurthy song. The song captures the essence of their "light" film music - simple orchestrations for the love songs, very dulcet and soothing amidst a light rhythm beat (Rahman uses a tablaa).

V-R songs were quite melody oriented and marked a shift from the previous styles involving heavy classical influences, which can be clearly contrasted by comparing Narumugaiye and this song. They also used instruments which were not common in TFM or Carnatic classical, such as more North Indian or Western instruments. Rahman achieves the effects by similar means. The instruments I thought I could recognise were the accordion, flute, tablaa, santoor, violins and other strings, shehnaai, triangles and reso-reso, sarangii, which may sound like a lot, but gave the music a texture that perfectly recalled the past. In the end, it came down to the melody which was just wonderfully spot on.

Rahman has a talent for picking out the patterns that identify a genre or an era and using that effectively. This was on show in this film and particularly this song.

the playback
Again, like the first song, the choice of the playback singer gave the song a big lift. Sandhya sings this song in a voice that is P. Susheela's. Not a voice that is borrowed or mimicked, but the same. (I've read Sandhya is P.Susheela's niece and daughter-in-law.) Their voices are so similar that for several days I thought they had actually roped in P. Susheela to sing this song (incidentally, this album did not make use of anyone actually associated directly with that era, which makes this effort even more commendable).

P. Susheela was one of the finest voices on the TFM soundscapes and along with the likes of S.Janaki, defined the female crooning voice of Tamil silver screens for much of the 60s, 70s and 80s (she also sang a song for Rahman in the film Puthiya Mugam). Since I haven't heard any songs of Sandhya outside this, I don't know if she's changed her voice to sound like her aunt for this song, but the resemblance is incredibly uncanny.

the lyrics
Vairamuthu opts for a much more comprehensible set of lines that appropriately aren't too aggressive, but are poetic and metaphorical as was usually the case with those times. A soft expression of love from the feminine point of view has been well penned. I don't quite know if it references any of the songs by the likes of Kannadasan, the leading lyricist of his and those times, but the manner is the same. The progression of the lyrics also reflect Ramani's actual emotions for Anandan and her increasing need to escape her current circumstances.

the picturisation
The picturisation and choreography were very fascinating in this song. As mentioned before, the set-pieces were mounted very well. The song opens with sepia-tinted lighting at night, with trees and a pond and the reflected moon. As the song plays, we also see off-camera moments that indicate how both Anandan and Ramani continue to fall for each other, as also the growing frustrations of Ramani's uncle ('Nizhalgal' Ravi) on seeing their mutual fondness.

Gautami does a Saroja Devi - of this there is little doubt. She has on the famous ribbons and double-tails, with first the paavaDai-daavaNi and later the puffy blouses. The coquettish dance movements (Raghuram also appears in the song as the dance choreographer) are patently like Saroja Devi (Saroja Devi was one of the leading stars of her age - not one of my favourites, for she had a very screechy voice and ultra-melodramatic style, which was probably not her fault!. She also shared great on-screen chemistry with the likes of MGR and Gemini Ganesan.) Gautami does an excellent job, not only as the dainty danseuse, but as the increasingly abused girl who still has to go out there and give a cinematic shot of a love-struck star. (A memorable moment is when she's quickly practicing her steps after make-up and turns towards her uncle in perfect step to the rhythm.)

Mohanlal, for his part, shows the transformation that Anandan is going through - he is now increasingly self-assured in his body language (being a star and having been introduced to the value of mass adulation by Tamilchelvan feeds into this characterisation of Anandan). When the song moves outdoors, Anandan is doing the famous swagger-walk twirling his coat in a manner that clearly references some of the cult MGR mannerisms. It is quite amusing to see these songs these days, when the hero just stood there gazing at the heroine prancing about doing semi-classical steps infused with a new cinematic idiom (it would take the days of Rajesh Khanna and others to finally burst the macho imagery and indulge in some flippant dance moves with their leading ladies!).

Useful web references
1. Lyrics with serviceable English translation
2. Another lyrics page
3. TFM forum pages mentioning the relationship between Sandhya and P. Susheela: 1, 2
4. A P. Susheela website
5. Kannadasan bio
6. Saroja Devi bio
7. Janaki Ramachandran

Next post: uDal maNNukku
Previous post: 'Narumugaiye'

Exploring the music of Iruvar :: 'Narumugaiye'

song: narumugaiye
singers: Unnikrishnan, Bombay Jayashri

film context
This is the first song of the film. It is a period of great happiness for Anandan (Mohanlal), for he seems to have finally landed his big break, working as a 'hero' for the first time and he has also just married Pushpa (Aishwarya Rai, version 1). The song is principally structured as a duet for that film-within-film featuring the leads (Madhubala in a guest appearance) while masterfully cutting back to real-life to the locally honeymooning (!) couple, with Anandan showing off some his histrionics to his new wife.

The setting seems to be from the story of Shakuntala, with Dushyanta riding into the ashram to encounter the dazzling damsel (the famous Raja Ravi Varma pose is elegantly referenced in one of the dance poses).

the music, the playback
A.R.Rahman tuned an exquisite Carnatic classical based song for 'Narumugaiye' using the traditional mridangam, ghaTam, violins and veeNai (if I recognise it correctly). (It would surprise some who saw him merely as a pop musician.) The song blends in wonderfully with the visuals and the lyrics, and is one of the great melodies of the Rahman catalogue.

the playback
The choice of the playback singers was particularly of interest. Unnikrishnan and Bombay Jayashri, both classical singers of some repute, gave their voices to this song. Unnikrishnan had already made a stunning debut (for Rahman), winning a National Award for "ennavaLe" (Kadhalan) and "uyirum niiye" (Pavithra) a couple of years ago. Bombay Jayashri was the bigger surprise packet - she was well-known in the Carnatic music circuit for a while for being one of the best singers from the younger generation, and this was a big step in terms of more commercial fame (of course, she became much more famous for 'Vaseegara' (Minnale)).

In the early days of TFM, the participation of classical singers in playback was a fairly common occurrence, for after all, they were the experts. The likes of M.S.Subbulakshmi (famously, an actress too) and M.L.Vasanthakumari (whose daughter Srividya would later join films) were associated with several big numbers. The parting of ways and the snobbery associated against film music would happen later given the nature of the productions (though in recent times, we have seen more practising Carnatic singers take to the mike for non-classical times in a long time - of course, K.J.Yesudas was a different phenomenon). The songs of that point were heavily influenced by the classical tradition, which is why the choice of the playback singers for this song was so relevant.

the lyrics
Vairamuthu's lyrics invoked the now highly abstruse classical (Sangam) Tamil, in which much of the great classics of Tamil literature were written. It's far removed from the common forms of Tamil these days, which makes it hard for people like me with no formal schooling in Tamil to follow. Vairamuthu made some direct references to some of the great works, using phrases from them and thus evoking the classic age. The result was a very fine marriage between words, visuals and music.

the picturisation
Madhubala showing off her bharatanatyam skills as the fragile Shakuntala watched by the warrior Dushyanta, surrounded by deer, waterfalls and such mytho-historical knick-knacks forms the "movie" side of the song. This is shot in Black and White with the old-fashioned stylistic dissolves and spiral wipes that establish the "period" of the visuals very well. The real-life romance is in colour, in much more plebian surroundings with the smitten Anandan illustrating to his bride some of the movie action - a contrast that is great to watch and is excellent for character development. Santosh Sivan's camera begins to have a dynamism of its own in these songs.

Useful web references
1. A post on Naadodi that gives some literary context to the lines "aTTrrai thi.ngaL avveNNilavil"
2. A typically passionate TFM forum discussion on bringing literature to the common man via film songs
3. Another TFM forum thread about the merits of Vairamuthu's references
4. Lyrics of the song (in Tamil only, untranslated)
5. Lyrics with English translation
6. Bombay Jayashri's website
7. Unnikrishnan bio

Previous post: Introduction -II
Next post: 'Poo KoDiyin Punnagai'

Exploring the music of Iruvar :: Introduction - II

Tamil cinema music

In the early days of the talkies, Tamil films were similar to their Northern counterparts. Cinema plots revolved around mythologicals, devotionals and social dramas, and actors had to be competent singers as playback was as yet unemployed. As a result, leading actors like M.K.Thyagaraja Bagavathar (K.L.Saigal is probably the best Hindi equivalent) sang their classical and semi-classical songs under the baton of composers like Papanasam Sivan and G.Ramanathan. Later, the classical streak would continue with legends like K.V.Mahadevan (who had a long and successful career, and was incidentally (the first recipient of the National Award for Best Music Direction). (Tamil movies also had a surfeit of action movies, usually historicals, where swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks-types would wield swords and shields in often well-choreographed sequences. MGR was one of the leading performers of this genre) However, it was the emergence of the duo of M.S.Viswanathan and T.K.Ramamurthy that caused a paradigm shift in TFM. (So much so that TFM is often broadly divided into three parts, one for each era of Viswananathan-Ramamurthy (V-R), Ilaiyaraja and A.R.Rahman. Naturally, this is unfair on several other gifted music composers through the years, but these phases capture succintly the prevailing mood over time as their impact has been tremendous).

V-R's immense success was because they ushered in an era of "light music" that was a lot more accessible to listeners than the more ponderous classical influence that was in vogue. They used "western" instruments such as the piano and drums, created simple, hummable and dulcet melodies, and contributed greatly to the success of films that starred all the major actors and actresses of that period. (Ilaiyaraja would do something similar with traditional folk influences and then programming, while Rahman's eclectic inspirations and sound engineering would revolutionise the state of film music in their times.) The impression that V-R wielded cannot be underestimated - film and light music had become genuine branches of music that could be critiqued differently. Singers like P.B.Srinivas, A.M.Raja and wife Jikki, T.M.Soundarrajan, P.Susheela, S.Janaki, and others would become household names with their distinctive voices.

It was also at this time that political thought began to be woven into film stories, dialogues and lyrics. Annadurai and Karunanidhi had been doing so with their plays (a rich theatrical tradition usually formed the background of many who were now working in films - actors, singers, lyrics, musicians, writers usually had a significant body of experience before moving to this more glittering medium) and were now starting to do the same with their silver screen outputs. The DMK had the fortune of being the party that many of the film stalwarts gravitated to. They, and not the party in power i.e. the Congress, were making things happen in the state (the Congress had become identified with Brahminical status quo-ists) and a new change was in the air. Lyricists like Kannadasan and Vaali had political views of their own. Since almost everyone involved had a political affiliation and as in most cases, these were of the same orientation, the political content of their collaborations became very significant. This is not to say that all movies were politically flavoured. They still made movies with fantasies, social melodramas, comedies etc., but the political agendas were not too far away. (Contrast this with the Hindi film industry, which in those days did have lyricists like Kaifi Azmi and Sahir who were politically active, but this never quite spilled over to the mainstream like in Tamil Nadu.)

In later years, after splits and machinations, things would come to such a pass that it was common for people to join or leave cast and crew after falling in or out with the likes of MGR and Karunanidhi.

Useful web references:
1. A very informative thread about MGR songs, the people involved, and their political content: 1, 2
2. A TFM forum thread on M.S.Viswanathan songs
3. Notes on K.V.Mahadevan: 1, 2
4. An Outlook article on Tamil film music (link via Sambhar Mafia)
(unfortunately, on the Web, there seems to be a lack of credible and summarised information on the history and influences of TFM, especially on specific individuals)

---

Iruvar's cast and technicians

Several members of the cast and crew of Iruvar put in performances of a lifetime. The film was a commercial disappointment, but many of those involved came out with their reputations enhanced.

Mani Ratnam: Iruvar, is IMHO, his best work till date. It had everything you associate (and enjoy) with a Mani Ratnam film. Flaws apart, it showed why in several departments and in sheer conceptualisation, he is head-and-shoulders above many of his contemporaries. He also showed a keen sense of history, both cinematic and political, and just for being a documenter of tribute, he needs to be commended. The failure must have hurt (Dil Se(1998) would follow soon), and he went back to his other speciality of the small, intimate middle-class genre with "Alai Payuthey" for some much needed success.
Incidentally, wife Suhasini wrote the dialogues for Iruvar.

A.R.Rahman: By then, Rahman was the biggest composer not just at home with commercial hits for Rajnikanth (Muthu (1995)) and Prabhu Deva (Love Birds (1996) and Mr. Romeo (1996)), but also in the country after the success of Rangeela (1994-95), Indian/Hindustani (1996-97) and Minsaara Kanavu/Sapnay (1996-97) (for which he won the National Award for the second time). But this was perhaps his first serious "period" score and showed that he could produce the requisite (and exquisite) diversity for a complex script of this nature.

Vairamuthu: Vairamuthu is in the Karunanidhi mould in that he writes poetry outside of films, writes extensively for films, and is politically inclined. In this film, he also had to provide pieces of poetry and blank verse for the Karunanidhi character. It was an admirable piece of work from the lyricist as we shall see in later posts.

Prakash Raj: Prakash Raj is not a native Tamil speaker (IIRC, he is Kannadiga), so it must have been daunting to play the Karunanidhi role as he did. He turned in a stupendous performance, all fire and brimstone, won himself a National Award for Best Supporting Actor and announced himself on the cinema stage. It would fuel his rise as a much vaunted "intense" actor.

Aishwarya Rai: This was her first film, a couple of years after the whole beauty pageant jamboree, and it created a buzz. Rai actually acts fairly well in the movie, first as the demure and shy housewife and then as the outgoing girl-actress. The movie showcased her dancing abilities as well and well, it didn't at all foretell the downward spiral of her histrionic evolution. Mani Ratnam has often surprised all with his ability to elicit quality performances from his actors, and Rai would be hoping a return to the stable with Guru will provide a glimpse of the promise of Iruvar.

Santosh Sivan: India's best cinematographer (who also made his pathbreaking "Terrorist" that year) teamed up with Mani Ratnam again to create an work of pure genius. The tracking, the Steadicam, the crane shots in this film are mindblowing. His contribution was felt even in the songs, and would win him a National Award for his efforts.

Sameer Chanda: Mani Ratnam has always worked with great art directors and Sameer Chanda did not disappoint. The sets and the props were meticulous, especially if you realise they had to create sets for sets of older films.

The cameos: We had Revathy and Tabu as the Tamizhchelvan wives, Gauthami in the Janaki slot, Nasser with his distinctive dubbing as Annadurai and many more stalwarts in small roles (even had Kalpana Iyer as Anandan's mother!). (The characters of the wives were never quite fully developed - one of the flaws)

Mohanlal: And finally for Mohanlal. Iruvar would never have been what it is without this brilliant actor. I have seen many of his acting gems, which is why it is with great care I say that this was easily his best performance ever. That he did not win any major awards for that performance is no reflection on it (ironically, the National Award that year went to two of his fellow Malayali actors). As the young actor trying hard to impress with his histrionics and sword-play, in his moments of despair, as the reticent entrant to politics who realises his star-power, as the aging and now wily politician, and finally as the man playing MGR, you will not see a more first-rate show in a movie.

Useful web references:
1. The Wikipedia page on Iruvar
2. (update) Baradwaj Rangan's succint summary of the influences of the film (which covers many of the points I noticed and plan to write about) (link via S. Karthik)

Previous Post: Part I of the Introduction
Next Post: "Narumugaiye"

Exploring the music of Iruvar :: Introduction - I

MGR, Karunanidhi, the plot

There are many Tamil film viewers who consider Iruvar to be among the best films they've ever seen. I'm one of those. Now, the film is far from being perfect, but as flawed efforts go, this one is a gem of the highest order. Film criticism has it that a good film has its whole greater than its parts, but Iruvar had several brilliant (and I use the adjective carefully) parts without being completely satisfactory. Clearly, the film was based on real people and events, and the very nature of that depiction was going to be highly controversial, mainly due to the levels of almost fanatical devotion these people have generated. To my mind, that seems to have affected the overall cohesion of the film.

Iruvar begins with a statement saying "this is not a true story" - a statement which is correct only in the extremely technical sense. For about 80% of the film is based on true people and events to such an extent that it serves as an almost accurate biographical account of the major milestones in the lives of Marathur Gopalamenon Ramachandran and Muthuvel Karunanidhi. In several films, Mani Ratnam has made coy references to real people and incidents, but never more overtly as in this film, which is why the opening disclaimer is either a case of chickening-out or a concession to those who'd have bones to pick. Unfortunately, I could not follow the local press in 1997 and since it was just before the WWW era where every aspect could be recorded in intense detail on a webpage, I couldn't find any notings on the controversies that dogged the film. That political opinions were raised I do remember, but not much else. I have often wondered whether the voice of the film was muzzled at points - there are some scenes where the dialogue is masked by background music, and the denouements of the Jayalalitha analogue and the ending as a whole seemed rushed and unsatisfying. Hence, my opinion of the film as being flawed.

Now, this film is unlikely to have the same kind of impact for those who do not know much about Tamil filmdom and the history of the politics in the state. They will miss the nuances, the multiple visual and audio references, the characters in the sidelights - a great pity for it is such a wonderful film. Hence I thought I'd make a quick gist of the context of the film without which any discussion of the music will be difficult.

Politics and films have been bed-fellows in many parts of India, but no coupling has been more passionate, potent, tempestuous or animated as in the case of Tamil Nadu. The almost seamless union between the two domains reached its apogee during the 40-odd years of the two men who ended up as the poles of their respective parties. "Parties" not "Movements", for the axioms of the *DMKs were fundamentally the same - the parties became (and still remain) personality-driven, which is perhaps due to the memes of filmstar egos. The Iruvar (or "The Duo") were MGR and Karunanidhi.

Now, most today remember MGR as the emblematic CM of Tamil Nadu who started life as an actor, became a superstar, and provoked a rash of inexplicable suicides during the most critical phase of his illness and after his death. So it's interesting to know that MGR was an outsider to Tamil Nadu, with his Malayali origins (note the "Menon" in his name) and his Lankan Tamil geographical roots (he was born in Kandy). Compelled to join a theatre company due to poverty, it wasn't until his early thirties and many setbacks later that he became a successful actor. The film that made his name was Rajakumari which was penned by a vigorous young script-writer and political activist named M. Karunanidhi.

M. Karunanidhi followed his mentor and leader C.N.Annadurai's model of brilliantly fusing political ideology in his plays, essays and later films. It was a natural progression for these litterateurs who realised the potency of such an amalgamation. Movies like 'Sivaji' Ganesan's acting debut "Parasakthi" fuelled the DMK's rationalistic, anti-Brahminism, lower caste empowerment movements. Karunanidhi would also cause a national flutter by leading the protests against imposition of Hindi in the state. Soon, he was the number two of the party after 'Arignar' Anna (who became the state's first non-Congress Chief Minister) and succeeded him after his death. MGR was pulled into the party, who benefited from the immense popularity of this actor, while MGR in turn also gained further stardom as the movies that these combinations provided were huge hits. MGR also acted in several of the non-political commercial romantic and fantasy hits and though his main rival was 'Sivaji' Ganesan, they would make the separation between the 'actor-star' and the 'star-actor' a paradigm that Kamal Haasan and Rajnikanth would later pick up the mantles for.

Soon enough, the personalities and egos would lead to a parting of the two swords from the same scabbard, resulting in the formation of the AIADMK and sowing the seeds for a bitter political rivalry that only seems to worsen every five years. The women in the lives of these men also played a major role - Karunanidhi's two living wives, MGR's marriage (in all, he'd had three marriages - the first two died of natural causes at a young age) to a not-so successful actress and later CM, Janaki, and the much more public companionship of Jayalalitha Jayaram.

There were several more nuances to this relationship and even the cameo players such as various mothers, sidekicks, enmities and political strategies would make their story a very compelling one. One can see why a filmmaker like Mani Ratnam would be so seduced by the plot. That he made a superb film out of it is partly to do with the source material, and the perceived blemishes are probably due to the complexities of the times.

Iruvar was initially titled Anandam in reference to the MGR analogue played by Mohanlal. This would also have been an apt title, as the film's story splits roughly 70:30 in favour of 'Anandam' rather than 'Tamizhchelvan' (played by Prakash Raj). The sympathies are arranged in favour of Anandam as a result, and it is through him that we progress in the film. The film spans from Anandam as the struggling actor through his dizzying ascent to stardom, first box-office wise and later political, and upto his death. The intersecting story of Tamizhchelvan as the firebrand poet, writer and politician who befriends Anandam, ascends to the highest chair in the land and has to suffer defeat at the hands of the same person he considered his political protégé forms the remainder of the double-helix of the story.

(Now that Iruvar isn't a true story is a laughable claim because of the exceedingly careful detailing in many of the performances, setpieces, references to names, body language and events. We shall discover many of these looking at just the songs which as I said were a wonderful dedication to an entire generation of Tamil film music.)

Useful web references:
1.M.G.Ramachandran - a summarised bio
2.M. Karunanidhi - a bio
3.MGR - a bio
(note that the two above links are laudatory in essence, so don't expect too much objectivity)

Previous Post: Prologue
Next post: Introduction to the music scenario of those times and the people behind "Iruvar"

Exploring the music of Iruvar :: Prologue

Period music, 'Iruvar' by Mani Ratnam and A.R.Rahman

The term "period music" is a fairly misused term in Indian film music. Now, I strongly believe that we don't quite give our film music a lot of the credit it deserves. Hardly elsewhere would you see such demands made of music composers and song-writers to come up with songs that have to fit such a diversity of contexts, orchestrations and purposes. Many of the best world musicians specialise in their own genres and get better as time goes by, while some of our best film musicians have grappled with and overcome the challenges of geographical and historical variety that film makers have thrown at them. Many of these challenges have involved creating a score for stories that are set in particular points of time and hence do not allow the film composer a free rein of the usual "two love songs, one sad tearjerker, one lullaby, one reunification melody" formula.

Now, what "authentic period music" really is depends on what the listener thinks the music of that period was. In many cases, it is merely the avoidance of certain kinds of instruments (no electric guitars or drums for songs of the past!) or presence of certain genres (classical or jazz is often used to convey a period mood). The bottomline being: anything but that which is contemporary. Retro has been used to pay tribute or to parody ("woh laDaki hai kahaa.n" - Dil Chahta Hai), "jhankaar!" - Jhankaar Beats, "kyu.n aage piiche" - Golmaal-Fun Unlimited), but here we shall focus on the more serious (at least in intention!) of the efforts. Anu Malik's Asoka was much pilloried for not quite being out of a Mauryan soundscape, but who really knows how they serenaded each other then? In contrast, Naushad's Mughal-é-Azam and Khayyam's Umrao Jaan received both critical and commercial acclaim for their songs. Each had managed to satisfy both the psychological needs of their listeners (classical, court, devotional songs in the opulent Mughal-era film in the former; aristocratic mujras flavoured with the essence of the Lakhnawi tradition in the latter) as well as provide a great film experience, being accompanied by lyrics and performances that enhanced the music. No wonder they remain ageless classics. Hollywood films make a lot of movies set in particular time-periods, but since they usually don't make the same kinds of demands, they typically solve the problem by using a lot of diegetic music (The Shawshank Redemption) or soundtracks that use real scores of that era (Almost Famous is a wonderful example). Of course, this is a bit of a generalisation (see Chicago as an example to the contrary), but to my mind, it's not the same as in Indian films. (For a great example of diegetic music in Hindi films, see Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi (2005).)

(Given that anything "period" calls for careful detailing of the mise-en-scene and the music emanating from the frame, and given mainstream cinema's usually lackadaisical approach to movie-making in general, you can often spot a lot of incongruous howlers where a flashback to a previous janam or to execrable college-lives is often accompanied by music and choreography so post-post-modern that it borders on prescient science fiction.)

Coming to the main purpose of this post, Mani Ratnam's Iruvar (1997) was quite different than many "period" movies. Not because it was based on several true incidents and more importantly, on some very specific people who had a great deal to do with both the Tamil film industry and Tamil politics in a very specific time frame, but because it had to completely reference actual film song styles. The setting wasn't temporally too far away unlike the Mughals or 19th century Lucknow and also had a great deal to do with music. The men behind the music for this film consciously chose to stay within the constraints of the context and in doing so, IMO, produced one of the best film albums ever heard. The score pays rich tribute to the Tamil film music of that period, captures the essence of the musical yield of those times without ever parodying it and provides a wonderful gist to those of us who haven't heard too much of the early masters. In following posts, I explore this album in order to understand the musical influences and references. I am not capable of a technical analysis of the songs, but have used this as a great opportunity to learn a bit about music from an era gone by. The team of Mani Ratnam, A.R.Rahman, Vairamuthu, Santosh Sivan, the choreographers, and the actors collaborated magnificently to produce an album and film of great significance, as we shall see in successive posts on this topic, and I found it a very fascinating experience. Incidentally, Mani Ratnam's next film Guru seems to spread across a large span of time like some of his fictional bio-pics (Nayakan, Iruvar) which may suggest a soundtrack that reflects the music of the related chronology. (The piece of music on the official website has a very promising rock-and-roll theme.) The music is due to be out in a month's time, so this is a good time to look at this team's harvest in the past.

(The usual disclaimer of not claiming complete authority over the subject applies. Factual errors are very likely because I'm going to rely on childhood memories for a lot of details about some of the film songs - in fact, I'd be very glad to find errors being pointed out and further information on any of the aspects. Whatever minimal research I did showed a lack of resources on the Web - especially in comparison with Hindi film songs - with many of the song forums predictably degenerating into name-calling and turf-wars :-))

Next post: Introduction to the real-life protagonists

The adaas of Don, Guru and Umrao Jaan...

...courtesy Rahul and Himanshu Nanda.

Film publicity has been one of the areas in which the Indian film industry has done itself very proud in recent years. The trailers, posters and teasers have usually managed to create great anticipation for many of the topnotch films. The men behind the wonderful publicity content for "Omkara" are also behind future hype-contenders for the films of Mani Ratnam, Farhan Akhtar, J.P.Dutta and Karan Johar.

This interview provides us with some sneak glimpses of posters for "Don" (fingers crossed, Farhan), "Umrao Jaan" (lukewarm, Mr. Dutta) and "Guru" (awaiting, Mani saar). All look very enticing (as did the three riveting posters of Omkara earlier). "Don" ("The Chase Begins Again") has SRK in a Matrix-inspired ecology, "Umrao Jaan" has some smart calligraphics on a carefully constructed profile of Ms. Rai, while "Guru" ("Villager/Visionary/Winner") sees Li'l B gazing down on a crowd of umbrellas (with people below :-)) in a patent-pending Mani Ratnam overhead shot that reminds one of "Nayakan" and "Iruvar". ("Guru", as the grapevine has it, is apparently inspired from the rags-to-riches stories of Indian businessmen, most notably Dhirubhai Ambani). This link from the IE epaper will have images and text (hopefully, their links stay alive).