The Orphanage & The Innocents – Two Psychological Gems!!

** This Article has been published on Passionforcinema.com and can also be read here **

My tryst with ghost stories started with the usual bedtime reads. With time, I graduated to movies and the horror genre became a favorite. Evil dead, Rosemary’s baby, the shining were a part of growing up. But off late, apart from a few Asian movies here and there, the genre has been churning out disappointing movies to say the least. So, I was surprised, shocked (pun very much intended) and genuinely impressed when I stumbled upon the brilliance of ‘The Orphanage’.
*Post may contain spoilers, will try to avoid them though *
Premiered in 2007 in Cannes, which is generally not so kind on genre movies, particularly horror, The Orphanage received a standing ovation of ten minutes from its audience.

The movie captures your attention from the very first frame, where we are introduced to the orphanage, which is no less than a character in the movie. Laura (portrayed brilliantly by Belen Reuda) returns to the orphanage where she had grown up before being adopted, with her doctor husband and son, Simon (Roger Princep oozing innocence, and giving one kickass of a performance for a child artist!!).
Soon Simon starts seeing invisible friends, much to the obvious disapproval and disbelief of his parents. The story moves forward at a rapid pace and we come to know that Simon is a HIV + child and has been adopted by the couple. The games Simon plays with his (invisible) friends and with Laura, keep the audience enchanted and before we know, the director takes us into a dizzying spiral of events, happening one after another, which culminate in Simon’s disappearance.
Simon disappears the day Laura tries opening the orphanage officially to other children, and Laura comes face to face for the first time with Simon’s invisible friend ‘Tomas’.
From, there on the movie shows Laura’s struggle with the acceptance of the fact that her son is no longer alive, her trysts with ghost hunters and the pain she goes through due to her loss. Skeletons keep tumbling out of the orphanage, and gory, spines chilling past secrets are revealed. The climax is open ended and brilliantly done, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality.
Any more discussion of the movie would have to contain spoilers, and I do not want to take away the pleasure from you guys, hence please do watch the movie, they will be the best 2 hrs you spent in a long long time.
Yearning for more after watching the orphanage, I zeroed in on The Innocents (1961) which explores similar themes and has as massive an effect as the orphanage. What is great about the movie is that it’s around 50 years old and is still decades ahead of the horror movies being created round the world.

The movie creeps up the spines of the audience from the very first frame while the opening credits are rolling, with a child humming ‘We lay my love and I, beneath the weeping willow.’ in the background.
Miss Giddens played by Deborah Kerr wonderfully, decides to take up the job of a Governess at a gothic old country mansion, Bly house where she has to take care of two young children.
Like the Orphanage and so many other successful horror movies, the house itself horrifies, enchants and captivates at the same time. The mood sets in, and Miss Giddens starts seeing apparitions.
The children here play their role amazingly. Watch out for young miles when he recites “What shall I sing to my lord from my window? What shall I sing for my lord will not stay? What shall I sing for my lord will not listen? Where shall I go when my lord is away? Whom shall I love when the moon is arisen? Gone is my lord and the grave is his prison. What shall I say when my lord comes a calling? What shall I say when he knocks on my door? What shall I say when his feet enter softly? Leaving the marks of his grave on my floor. Enter my lord. Come from your prison. Come from your grave, for the moon is a risen. Welcome, my lord.” A gut wrenching scene indeed!!
They are playful, inseparable and seem to be innocent and sinister at the same time. The mind games start a-la the orphanage and past secrets start tumbling out. The governess finds that her predecessor had an affair with the valet, an aggressive and intense man, and both had met their untimely death. From there on the cat and mouse games begin, between the children, the apparitions and Miss Giddens which spiral at break neck speed and finally it culminates in one of the most open ended and brilliant climaxes ever, in this genre.
There are many things common to both the movies, their setting is similar, they explore similar themes, the acting is brilliant by the cast and although the story seems to be simple and stale, it’s the treatment which elevates the movies to the heights of cinematic brilliance.
The basic thing both these movies do is to question, they question whether we believe in ghosts or not. They question whether what is being shown in real or not. This is where the triumph of the directors lies; they succeed in such open ended interpretations which spawn multiple versions of actual happenings.
Ghosts stories generally get reduced to cheap shock based gimmicks, but both these titles work brilliantly because they work at a very deeper level and question our believes and faith.
Both are “must watch” movies, (particularly for a certain Mr. Ram Gopal Verma who ‘thinks’ he churns out psychological horror movies) and rest assured you will want to get hold of someone, make him watch the movies and discuss them!!

Gay Ho!!

Just when I had thought that I had heard all sorts of Bull Crap, trust good old yoga prince of India, Baba Ramdev ( or should I call him HIS HOLINESS SWAMI RAMDEVJI MAHARAJ !! ) comes up with this. “Hindu guru claims homosexuality can be ‘cured’ by yoga”
Have been watching the evolution of the Ramdev phenomenon since the last few years, and needless to say, I have been darn impressed with the singular impact this guy has had over the brains of educated Indians celebrities and non celebrities alike. He started out with a single show on a religious channel and has now graduated to two 24 X 7 channels dedicated to him ( chanting out weird sounding shlokas with the widely available yoga exercises), with his ( read his trusts) assets including a $4.5 million compound in Texas to the multi million dollars his Patanjali Yog Vidyapeeth churns out by selling snake oil. (Proved as per a Govt. investigation report).
So far so good, had his gamut of expertise stayed within the realms of Yoga, no one complained (till you had more than one Television in your house). Problems started when good old Yoga prince started behaving like the ‘Mahesh Bhatt’ of Indian mainstream media. First there were talks of saving the multi billion dollars of black money stashed away in Swiss banks from the hands of pirates (which was unfortunately nothing more than a internet mail forward and cheap urban legend), then you have to watch him doing all sorts of mall opening functions, hobnobbing with B grade starlets and well past their prime yesteryear heroines.
So, what is the problem here? It is a simple problem Mr. Yoga Guru., you unfortunately have become a symbol, a symbol of India. You play with faith, the faith of millions of people you have fooled. As if fooling millions of people that rubbing finger nails would kick start a forrestation drive on your head wasn’t enough (A day doesn’t pass when I don’t see scores of people in my office and in public transport rubbing their nails, hoping for the hopeless, which is evident from their receding hairline and much earlier receded brains), now you say that homo sexuality is a disease.
A Disease?? Common gimme a break, do you even know what defines a disease?? You know what is a disease?? YOU are a disease. Your fooling around with people using Yoga as a base is a disease. It is because of people like you, that a Burger King or a Brittney spears makes fun of Indian Icons. It is because of people like you, that India is still regarded as a land of snake charmers and Tantriks.
Please give us a break, reserve you loud mouth and black magic to the boundaries of Yoga, and stick to the Aaj Taks and India TVs for exercising your PR skills . You have invaded enough souls, let the others rest in peace.

Et Tu, Writing?

When I was a kid, I thought I could be anything and by anything I mean ANYTHING. Having a school teacher for a mommy, a strict disciplinarian one at that, made being academically sound almost an assumption. As Dirk Duggler famously quotes in ‘Boogie Nights’ “Everyone has something special”; I realized very early in my life what was special in me, it was the ability to cram things up. Things which I liked would seemingly never leave my head and the ones I don’t , u just had to make me sit for a test in that and give me a deadline and no matter how much Greek and Latin that matter would contain, I would cram them up . While the former category consists of movies and sports, I can give you the any movies banner, name, director’s name, music credits for any random hindi movie of the 90s or the world movies I started watching thereafter; the second belonged to mostly academics.

I grew up in a city called Cuttack, which was at the centre of the cultural renaissance at that time. There were multiple cultural societies, clubs like Leo, Rotract etc etc which would conduct all sort of competitions on weekends. Quizzing, debating, painting prove to be a natural outlet for my cramming abilities. Quizzing and blah-blahing out mugged debates became my forte. As I grew in confidence, I moved on to on the spot elocutions. Those days were different, you knew all the other school students who would be regular in the quizzing circles, in the debating circles and believe me, the Arena would be no less than a dog fight of gladiators. Staying up late after midnight hours, cramming up 3 newspapers a day, quotes, poems, drafting speeches, analyzing what went wrong the last time became a habit and never did I realize how much of a knowledge base I was growing. I was learning, winning and growing up in confidence. Nothing seemed unachievable, no dream too high, no war too tough.

Then came the first litmus test for every wannabe..The big ‘boards’. My cramming abilities ensured my flying through with colours. But that was the beginning of the unlearning. The career path for every Indian those days and to some extent till now who did decently in the boards was either the IITs or MBBS. That was the first time, I had to choose, choose between two career paths and choose I did, in a manner which would shape up my life. I CHOSE TO PLAY SAFE for the first time in life. In engineering, if you didn’t get through IITs there were lots and lots of private colleges to choose from, but if you didn’t get through Govt. colleges for MBBS, there were no private colleges to back up.

That was mistake no. 1 ‘Playing Safe’

I didn’t get through the IITs and it was a failure, and I took it to heart. I gave it attempt after attempt, sometimes with all I had, sometimes half heartedly. Never could crack it, and the failure hurt me badly. Thereafter, the learning I took from it was equally failing. I started believing that, I was after all an average guy and not meant for the best things.

That was mistake no. 2 ‘Concluding that I don’t have it in me’.

There after my life was nothing but an attempt to sew together a manageable career. I unlearnt all that knowledge I had, all the public speaking ability I had, everything. Sometimes, when I think of all the random stuff I knew those days when I was in Std. 5th or 6th, I know bollocks compared to that now. All Grand slam winners, finalists of the decade, all records in sports everything. Now days I don’t even follow 90%of them.

All of that left me.

But, one thing which had never left me was my writing habit. Blogs gave a whole new dimension to that. I blogged with glee, took out my angst through them, wrote short stories, did movie reviews, wrote over 50 posts in my first year of blogging. But today, when I randomly stumbled upon my new blog, I realized that it has only the customary first post and its been ages since I have written, Seems even my writing ability has deserted me.

Et tu, Writing??

Me, Myself and my Blog..

I know the title of this post stinks of narcissism, but it’s actually bad advertising other than anything else. It’s an attempt to understand the psychology of blogging, cultural impact of blogging and the relationship of the blogger with his blog. Blogs are turning out to be culturally more and more significant every day, with web wars being fought, virtual protests being carried out and revolutions and mass movements being organised in blogosphere.

Heroes are born daily and huge icons are being broken in this web world. Each significant (and not so significant) event is being monitored, dissected and debated. In times as these what is the relation of a blogger with his blog. For some it can be extension of their mental thought process, where as for others it can be a way of straightening their twisted soul.

I started blogging as a hobby, but then blogging always turns out to be more than a hobby eventually. Me, a 50 odd post old blogger have observed a change in me ever since I am blogging. It’s more psychological, related with the thought process. May be the times are changing, and people change with time, but the way I was attached to my previous blog was so severe that I almost considered it to be a living being. It was more an outlet of ramblings, musings and hugely personal.

The lifecycle of a blog has completed a circle for me, and here I am blogging away to glory once again. This time, more as an observer than an actor. Movies have been and always shall remain my first love, but this time the blog shall try to be less opinionated (however oxymoronic that may sound ), try to explore unobserved horizons and experiment with different kinds of literature and medium.

Let’s see how this love affair turns out to be…