A movie and book review blog

Dec 20, 2025

Sreenivasan: The Genius Who Wrote Himself As The Loser, Completes His Earth-Internship. Moves On.

Sreenivasan - script writer, actor and director, was the sharpest mirror Kerala (cinema) ever held up to itself. He excelled at playing guys who got laughed at on screen while he stayed as the invisible genius behind the scene. Like Socrates annoying the hell out of Athens with uncomfortable truths, Sreenivasan spent the 1980s and 1990s poking Kerala society right where it was faking the truth, through characters who were losers, dreamers, and perpetual underdogs.

While Mohanlal became a superstar playing the charming rogue in films like Nadodikkattu, Pattanapravesham, Gandhinagar 2nd Street or Sanmanassullavarkku Samadhanam, it was Sreenivasan's scripts that made those characters iconic. He literally built Mohanlal's career in the eighties, all while playing the bumbling sidekick who suffered all the humiliation. The man wrote himself as the butt of every joke and saved the hero moments for others. That takes something rare, the confidence to know your genius doesn't need validation from playing the hero, and the humility to look foolish for the sake of a better story.

Sreenivasan wasn't just cracking jokes for time-pass. Through his scripts and stories his intent was to point out everything that was fake about Kerala society, the pseudo-intellectuals quoting Marx without understanding workers (while playing that pseudo intellectual in Sandesam) , the corrupt politicians wrapping themselves in party flags, the broken education system churning out certificates instead of thinkers, the phonies climbing social ladders on other people's backs. 

His dialogues became memes decades before the internet made memes a thing. Even now, Malayalis quote his lines like they're quoting their own grandfather's wisdom because they cut through pretense without mercy. And even if the man has exited stage left, no one should still say anything about Poland (Polandine patti oraksharam mindarathu!).

What made him dangerous was his refusal to dress up the truth. No diplomatic language, no careful word choice to avoid hurting feelings. His characters said exactly what everyone thought but kept bottled up inside (except in Kannur, where Sreenivasan was from.) Through films like Vadakkunokkiyantram and Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala, he exposed life's casual cruelties, society's convenient double standards, and people's Olympic-level talent for hypocrisy, all while keeping audiences entertained that they forgot they were getting an education.

What separated him from every other satirist was, Sreenivasan never climbed on a soapbox. He understood something fundamental about human nature that most artists miss entirely. The common man doesn't wake up wanting philosophical lectures or moral lessons delivered with a wagging finger. He wants to be told a story. He wants to laugh at something real, recognize himself in a character's failures, and maybe, just maybe, see his own life a little more clearly by the time the credits roll.

And so Sreenivasan became the fool/loser. Not because he lacked the talent to be the hero, but because he understood that truth arrives more gently when it's wrapped in laughter. He made himself small so his ideas could grow large. He took the beatings, the rejections, the humiliations on screen, knowing that somewhere in the audience, someone was seeing their own struggle reflected back and felt alright, there were other people too like them in this world.

In every room he entered, whether as writer, actor, or director, Sreenivasan was the smartest person there. But he had the wisdom to hide that intelligence behind a self-deprecating smile and a character who couldn't catch a break. Because the greatest teachers don't announce their lessons. They tell you a story, make you laugh, and let you discover the truth on your own, long after the laughter fades. 

That's not just craft. That's grace.

SREENIVASAN
April 195? - 20th Dec 2025

P.S - I am lucky our Earth internships overlapped 

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Dec 19, 2025

End of Year List - Podcasts I found in 2025

This is my customary end of the year list post, probably the only one this year. Somewhere along our evolutionary path in 21st century, I have also mutated into a headphone wearing biped like many you encounter on subways/buses/sidewalks. I have also became one of those people who listens to books or podcasts more than reading books – a development that would have horrified my younger self. But here we are. 

These days, with AntennaPod (a podcast app ) as my faithful companion, I'm satisfying my intellectual curiosities through my earbuds rather than turning pages. Maybe it's the multitasking appeal, I can absorb fascinating content while fixing dinner on weekdays or taking walks. Or maybe podcasts just hit that sweet spot between casual consumption and serious learning that books sometimes miss.

I've deliberately left out the podcasts I've raved about in previous year-end posts that I continue devouring – the usual suspects like Philosophize This, Memory Palace, 99% Invisible, The Fall of Civilizations etc. This year's list is all about my fresh discoveries, the shows that made 2025 intellectually richer.


Telepathy Tapes with Ky Dickens: This newer podcast had me questioning everything I thought I knew about consciousness and human connection. Dickens explores documented cases of non-speaking individuals with autism communicating telepathically, backing these extraordinary claims with scientific rigor rather than new-age hand-waving. As someone fascinated by the intersection of consciousness and quantum mechanics, I found myself completely absorbed by the implications. It's the kind of podcast that makes you stare at the ceiling at 2 AM wondering about life, universe and everything you think you know but you do not, even though you know the answer is 42, not 67.


The Civil War and Reconstruction with Richard Youngdahl: Sometimes you need a no-nonsense deep dive, and this podcast delivered exactly that. It methodically walks through the entire chronology of America's bloodiest conflict without getting bogged down in academic jargon or trying to be too clever. Perfect for someone like me who appreciates history but doesn't want to slog through a 900-page biography of Grant just to understand Vicksburg.

Heavyweight with Jonathan Goldstein: How did I miss this gem for so long? Jonathan Goldstein's approach to human interest storytelling is absolutely addictive, he helps people resolve decades-old mysteries and interpersonal puzzles with the persistence of a detective and the heart of a therapist. Each episode feels like emotional archaeology, digging up buried family secrets and forgotten friendships. I binged through multiple episodes like they were potato chips, still got a long way to go - which is a good thing.

The Neuron: Since I already subscribe to their newsletter, having the audio version felt like a natural extension. It's become my go-to source for understanding how emerging AI technologies are reshaping our world, delivered without the breathless hype or apocalyptic dread that plagues most AI coverage. Just solid analysis of how these tools are actually changing how we work and think.

The Pie: An Economics Podcast: Economics has become one of my late-blooming intellectual interests, and this offering from the Becker Friedman Institute at UChicago hits the perfect educational sweet spot. They tackle complex economic concepts through varied lenses without assuming you have an MBA, making it ideal for curious minds who want to understand how money actually moves through the world.

ThinkFuture: Chris Kalaboukis manages to marry technology and philosophy in ways that feel natural rather than forced. His exploration of how emerging tech intersects with age-old philosophical questions about human nature and society.

The End of The World with Josh Clark: This 10-episode series from the Stuff You Should Know co-host consumed my attention like an audiobook thriller. Clark examines various apocalyptic scenarios with scientific rigor and dark humor, making existential dread oddly entertaining. It is a very short podcast series which is more like an audiobook. I binged through it in a few days.

Tech Brew Ride Home: My daily dose of Silicon Valley water-cooler gossip, delivered with just enough snark to keep tech news from becoming unbearably dry.

Search Engine with PJ Vogt: Vogt's approach to making sense of our chaotic world one question at a time feels perfectly suited to our current moment of information overload and cultural confusion.

History of Religion by J.A. Graham: Currently working my way through his deep dive into Christianity's origins and evolution. It's academic but accessible. 

There are undoubtedly more podcasts worth mentioning. Maybe that's next year's list. For now, these podcasts have kept my brain happily occupied while my reading pile gathers dust.

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Dec 17, 2025

Homebound (Netflix 2025) with Neeraj Ghaywan and Vishal Jethwa

Vishal Jethwa is my actor discovery of the year. I had no clue this guy existed until Netflix dropped Homebound into my weekend queue. What makes his story even more compelling is learning about his journey - a kid raised by a single mother, taking the scenic route that outsiders are forced to navigate in Bollywood, yet still managing to hold his own against the more pedigreed Ishan Khatter (Neelima Azeem's son and Bollywood actor Shahid Kapoor's brother).

Vishal Jethwa(l), Ishaan Khatter(r) - a scene from Homebound (2025)

The real kicker though is Homebound marks the triumphant return of Neeraj Ghaywan - my and probably India's rediscovery of the year. Ghaywan, the blogger-film critic ditched his corporate cubicle to chase his filmmaking dreams. His debut film - Masaan back in 2015 wasn't just groundbreaking because it launched Vicky Kaushal into Bollywood (tauba tauba..) it was revolutionary because Ghaywan tackled heavyweight themes like caste, class, and discrimination with the subtlety of a master craftsman and it made its all the way to Cannes and won a couple of awards.

Homebound took him back to Cannes again this year, above is the proof.

What sets Ghaywan apart is his authentic understanding of humiliation and institutional cruelty experienced by the downtrodden and lower caste/class people in India  – the kind that comes from lived experience, not research papers. Although Ghaywan grew up in urban in India of the 80s and 90s, going to prominent schools and almost never came out as 'Dalit' till he entered the film field later in his life. As a Dalit filmmaker, he brings a visceral understanding of what it means to navigate a world designed to keep you out. This is filmmaking from the trenches, created from blood, sweat, and tears rather than market research and focus groups. I have zero patience for fantasy fiction that exists in some make-believe bubble, but Homebound is cinema that matters.

Homebound continues the Ghaywan's unflinching style taking us along the life journey of two lifelong friends – young men from different discriminated backgrounds, one facing religious prejudice, the other caste discrimination. Jethwa and Khatter completely shed their Bollywood personas (though I'm not entirely sure Jethwa had one to shed in the first place) and deliver performances so grounded and vulnerable you forget you're watching actors.

The story unfolds before and during the pandemic, which hit me like a revelation about how differently COVID played out across the globe. All I experienced in my small-town America was minor 'conveniences' like working from home for a month and the great toilet paper shortage scare, India faced something entirely more devastating. The sudden shutdown didn't just pause life – it destroyed livelihoods overnight, forcing millions to walk thousands of miles back home when the entire transportation network collapsed. It was an unnecessary human catastrophe layered on top of an already devastating health crisis.

Throughout the film, B.R. Ambedkar's framed portrait appears like a gentle reminder - the Dalit statesman who studied at Columbia and LSE and architected India's Constitution. His presence in these frames speaks to unfinished promises and the persistent gap between constitutional ideals and street-level reality.

Homebound isn't just probably the best Hindi film of 2025 – it might just be the best, period. It's the kind of movie that reminds you why cinema exists in the first place: to show us ourselves, warts and all, and maybe help us figure out how to be a little more human in the process.

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Dec 16, 2025

Ouseppinte Osyathu (2025)

Ouseppinte Osaythu is one of those rare Malayalam films that sneaks up on you. What begins as a taut thriller gradually transforms into something more profound, a deeply human story that lingers long after the credits roll.

The movie rides primarily on the shoulders of Dileesh Pothan, who delivers a performance that reminds you why directors-turned-actors are becoming such a compelling trend in Malayalam cinema these days. But this movie isn't a one-man show by any stretch - Shajon, who could easily be considered a co-lead, matches Pothan's energy with a nuanced portrayal that keeps you invested in the story's emotional core.

Director Sarath Chandran R.J. crafts the narrative with remarkable restraint, allowing the thriller elements to breathe without overwhelming the character development. The film's setting across various towns in Kerala's Idukki district becomes almost a character itself, with the mountainous terrain and small-town dynamics providing an authentic backdrop.

What impressed me most was how the supporting cast elevated every scene they appeared in. Vijayaraghavan, as the family patriarch, brings gravitas without falling into the trap of melodrama that such roles often demand. His presence anchors the film's emotional weight beautifully. Lena, Zarin Shihab, and Hemanth Menon round out the ensemble with performances that feel organic to their characters' world.


The film's greatest strength lies in its understanding of pacing. Where many thrillers rush toward their revelations, Ouseppinte Osaythu takes its time, building tension through character interaction rather than manufactured suspense. By the time the thriller mechanics give way to the story's more human concerns, you're so invested in these people that the genre shift feels natural, even inevitable.

The cinematography captures the beauty of Idukki without romanticizing it, presenting these locations as places where real people live real lives rather than picture-postcard destinations. The technical aspects never draw attention to themselves, which in a film like this is exactly what you want.

If there's a minor quibble, it's that the film occasionally feels a bit too measured in its approach, but that's hardly a fault when the alternative is the breathless pacing that mars so many contemporary thrillers. 
In a year where Malayalam cinema has delivered some impressive outings, this film stands out as one of 2025's better offerings.

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Dec 8, 2025

Ponman, featuring the "actor" Basil Joseph

Basil Joseph has been having an identity crisis for sometime now or maybe this was his endgame - to be an actor. Basil figured out that the best way to get the exact performance you want is to give it yourself. He hits an incredible home-run with the 2025 movie, Ponman, directed by Jotish Shanker. 

Following in the footsteps of Dileesh Pothan, who made the seamless transition from behind the camera to in front of it, Basil has delivered what might be his strongest acting performance yet in Ponman. It's funny how all these directors are suddenly discovering they can act better than half the people they've been directing.

Ponman arrives as one of 2025's better offerings, showcasing Basil's metamorphosis which has been happening since Jaya Jaya Jaya He (2022). Gone is the slightly awkward energy we've come to associate with his earlier acting attempts - here he's completely comfortable in his skin, delivering dialogue with the kind of natural rhythm that comes from understanding exactly what the scene needs. You can see the director's brain working behind the actor's eyes, but instead of feeling calculated, it feels precise. 

What makes Ponman particularly effective is how Jotish Shanker has positioned it in Kollam and captured the suffocating nuances of the dowry system. This is not just another family drama - it's a surgical examination of how gold becomes the measuring stick for a girl's worth. The entire narrative revolves around the crushing weight of expectation that families work their entire lives to accumulate enough gold ornaments for their daughter's wedding day. 

 The supporting cast, particularly Lijomol and Sajin Gopu, complement Basil's performance without getting overshadowed by his transformation. Lijomol especially brings a quiet dignity to her role. Sajin Gopu, as always, delivers with that effortless naturalism that makes you forget you're watching someone act. 

Jotish Shanker's direction keeps the focus tight on the family dynamics without getting preachy about the social commentary. The dowry system critique emerges organically from the characters' actions rather than through heavy-handed dialogue, which is probably why the movie works as well as it does. By the time the wedding sequences arrive, you're not just watching a celebration - you're watching the culmination of a system that has consumed everyone involved. 

Ponman might not revolutionize Malayalam cinema, but it does what good regional cinema should do, holds up a mirror to a specific community's practices while telling a universally relatable story about family expectations and the price we pay for tradition.

 
 

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Dec 1, 2025

Monkey (2025) - another Stephen King story-turned-into-movie

When Stephen King christened his malevolent wind-up monkey back in 1980, he probably didn't envision Theo James wrestling with the cursed thing decades later. But here we are with director Osgood Perkins (fresh off his Longlegs success) bringing this particular nightmare to life. It's about time someone tackled King's shorter works without completely butchering them.
 
The Monkey follows twin brothers Hal and Bill, both played by James in what amounts to a one-man show of familial dysfunction. The premise is deliciously simple, a toy monkey bangs its cymbals and people die in increasingly creative ways. It's King at his most straightforward, which is probably why Perkins manages to keep the adaptation relatively faithful without drowning it in unnecessary subplots.
 
James does solid work carrying the dual role, though the film occasionally stumbles when it can't decide if it wants to be darkly comic or genuinely terrifying. The horror beats land well enough, but the comedy feels forced at times, like watching someone try too hard to make you laugh at a funeral. Perkins has a good eye for atmosphere, but he's still finding his voice as a director - you can see flashes of brilliance buried under what feels like studio-mandated crowd-pleasing moments. The real star here is the monkey itself, a genuinely unsettling piece of practical effects work that puts most CGI creatures to shame. There's something deeply wrong about watching this thing move, and Perkins knows exactly how to frame it for maximum discomfort. King adaptations are tricky beasts, too faithful and they feel stagey, too loose and they lose what made the source material work. The Monkey finds a decent middle ground, even if it doesn't quite reach the heights of King's best screen translations. It's competent horror film making that respects its source without being enslaved by it. A decent and quick onetime watch.
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Nov 30, 2025

The Women in Cabin 10: Where Netflix goes from Dumb to Dumber

The Woman in Cabin 10 is Netflix's latest attempt at a psychological thriller, and it is as predictable as they come. Keira Knightley stars as the protagonist who seems hell-bent on being the most insufferable person on a luxury cruise ship, which is quite an achievement considering the typical clientele. The movie follows the classic formula of "everyone's hiding something while the main character loudly points it out to anyone who'll listen." Knightley's character has that particular brand of self-righteousness that makes you wonder if she's ever heard of reading the room. She's like that person at a dinner party who insists on talking politics with your conservative uncle – technically not wrong, but man, does she make it everyone else's problem.

 

What really gets under my skin is how her crusade for truth becomes a collision course for everyone around her. Her ex-boyfriend, played by David Ajala, gets caught in the crossfire of her moral grandstanding. It's the kind of collateral damage that happens when someone decides they're the main character in everyone else's story. The dude's basically there to validate her journey, which feels pretty tired in 2025. The cinematography is decent enough, those ocean shots do their job but the script feels like it was written by someone who binge-watched too many Agatha Christie adaptations during lockdown. Or it is one of those more recent dumbed down scripts. The ending does wrap things up in a way that'll satisfy people who like their justice served with a side of vindication. Without spoiling anything, let's just say virtue gets its reward, even if the path there is littered with unnecessary casualties. It's the kind of resolution that makes you think, "Well, I guess that works," while simultaneously making you question if it was worth the two-hour journey. Bottom line: if you're looking for something to have on while you fold laundry, this'll do. Just don't expect to discover your new favorite thriller. There are better options out there - on Netflix and elsewhere.

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Nov 29, 2025

The Man Who Haunted Himself (1970)

The Man Who Haunted Himself is Roger Moore doing something totally different from James Bond. This 1970 psychological thriller shows Moore as Harold Pelham, a buttoned-up London businessman whose life gets turned upside down after a car accident. 

The thing that grabbed me right away was how this movie is basically a time capsule of 1970s London. Many people are wearing proper hats, speaking in that clipped British way that sounds almost old-timey now, and the whole city looks different from what you'd expect. The cars, the clothes, the office buildings - it's all very much of its era. You can practically smell the cigarette smoke and aftershave through the screen.

Moore himself is interesting to watch here. This is the first non-Bond movie of his I've ever seen, and he's playing it completely straight. No winking at the camera, no charm offensive, just a regular guy slowly losing his mind as his life gets hijacked by someone who looks exactly like him. The poor guy goes from boring businessman to paranoid mess, and Moore sells it pretty well. The plot gets pretty wild as Pelham discovers that his mysterious double is living it up - gambling, having affairs, making business deals he never agreed to. It's like someone took his life and turned up all the dials to eleven. The corporate intrigue stuff feels very 1970s & British too, mergers and hostile takeovers in wood-paneled boardrooms are very gentlemanly compared to the slimy dramas taking place in 21st century conference rooms. The movie definitely takes its time building the paranoia, and the ending is dark for what starts as a straightforward thriller. Worth watching if you want to see Moore stretch beyond his comfort zone, or if you're into that whole "what if your life wasn't really your life" thing. Plus, the 1970s London backdrop makes it feel like you're watching a lost episode of some old BBC series.
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Nov 16, 2025

Death by Lightning: Netflix's Contribution to U.S History & Politics 101

President James A. Garfield, the college educated farmer & Congressman from Ohio should have played a transformational role in U.S history and politics than the couple of months fate had allowed to helm United States of America in 1881.

Netflix's latest historical offering, "Death by Lightning," brings this forgotten giant of American politics into sharp focus. If you're a student of history and politics, especially of U.S. history like me, we should be thrilled by these contributions Netflix is making towards our historical and political education showcasing some of the forgotten figures that shaped the United States. Garfield holds the unique distinction of being the only sitting member of the House of Representatives to be elected president, and his resume reads like a greatest hits of 19th-century American achievement - preacher, lawyer, Civil War general, and finally, a tragically brief POTUS.

The mini-series, based on Candice Millard's exceptional book "Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President," doesn't shy away from the complexities of both Garfield and his assassin Charles Guiteau. The casting choices are nothing short of spectacular. Michael Shannon's portrayal of Garfield is so convincing, his beard looks eerily similar to the president's historical photographs. Matthew Macfadyen's Guiteau made viewers genuinely uncomfortable each time he appeared on screen - which is precisely what a good portrayal of an unhinged assassin should do. Betty Gilpin delivers a convincing performance as Garfield's wife Crete. Nick Offerman as Chester Arthur is so amazing that Netflix, if you want it, you could almost tease out a sequel based on Arthur's presidency.

What strikes you most about this series is how faithful it remains to historical facts. I am sure the personal moments probably didn't occur exactly as depicted or might not have happened at all, but they help building context and fleshing out each character. Guiteau really did join a free-loving commune and failed spectacularly at everything he attempted in life. Garfield truly was one of the last "log cabin" presidents, rising from poverty through sheer intellect and determination. The assassination attempt itself unfolds with disturbing accuracy - Guiteau hiding the gun in his pocket, the black physician being one of the first doctors on the scene, the pioneering use of the first metal detector on the wounded president.

While the series does not really capture the magnitude of Garfield's popularity and the nation's grief on his assassination, that did not stop me from going digging after binging on this engaging mini-series. His inauguration drew 100,000 people to Washington D.C., while his funeral in Cleveland attracted 150,000 mourners - one of the largest presidential funeral turnouts in U.S. history up to that point. He was mourned as a national hero, his death marking a pivotal moment in American political consciousness.

The 4-part series does take some liberties with period-appropriate language - the liberal use of f-word and phrases like "quality time" that wouldn't appear for another century and feels anachronistic. But these minor quibbles don't detract from the overall impact of seeing this transformational figure brought to life.

Interestingly, Garfield's legacy extends beyond politics into pop culture. Jim Davis named his famous cartoon cat after his own grandfather, James A. Garfield Davis, who was himself named after the President Garfield following his Republican nomination in 1880. The score, composed by the same talent behind Game of Thrones and Iron Man, perfectly complements the dramatic tension.

One of the reasons "Death by Lightning" succeeds is its perfect length. Four episodes allow enough time to develop these historical figures without overstaying its welcome. Perhaps a deeper dive into Garfield's impressive Civil War career would have strengthened our connection to him, but the focus remains laser-sharp on this pivotal moment in American history. As a student of history and politics, this series got me digging deeper into both Garfield's and Chester Arthur's presidencies - exactly what good historical drama should do.

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Nov 11, 2025

Baramulla : A movie by Aditya Jambhale (Netflix)

Baramulla, what could a film about Baramulla possibly be about? Other than being another film about the decades-long disputed-territory status of Kashmir. But I was happily surprised, and in the best possible way.

Before diving into the movie, here's some backdrop: Baramulla is this town up in Jammu and Kashmir, India's northernmost state that's still a bit of a hot mess. Kashmir has been like an open wound ever since India's independence, when the Hindu king of this Muslim-majority region decided to throw his lot in with India. Both Pakistan and India have been picking at this wound ever since, and one of the most brutal chapters was the displacement of Kashmiri Pandits - that's the majority Hindu group in Kashmir, back in the late eighties and nineties. Not exactly feel-good material for your average weekend movie night. Baramulla, the movie, comes from director Aditya Suhas Jambhale and stars Manav Kaul and Basha Sumbli as a Muslim couple. The husband's a cop, deputy superintendent of police, freshly posted to Baramulla to investigate some politician's kidnapped kid. The director and both lead actors are all from the displaced Kashmiri Pandit diaspora which adds a layer of authenticity. The family moves into this gorgeous, rambling old house that screams traditional Kashmir architecture. And man, does this house work overtime in the atmosphere department. It's pretty in that old-fashioned way that makes you want to book a vacation there, right up until the creepy stuff starts happening.

Now, I'm not sure if this counts as a Bollywood film. Sure, it's in Hindi and features Manav Kaul, who's done his share of Bollywood gigs, but it feels like something else entirely. We're seeing this whole new parallel cinema thing happening - movies produced by Netflix, Amazon Prime, and their streaming cousins, using local crews and native languages but breaking free from the tired old Bollywood formulas which have not been hitting the mark lately. I'll admit, I was dragging my feet about watching this one. The producer, Aditya Dhar, made his directorial debut with Uri: The Surgical Strike, which wasn't exactly my cup of tea, so much so that I never even watched it. But then I caught wind of some chatter about Baramulla being supernatural horror, not just political drama. And you know what? Sometimes the best surprises come when you're least expecting them. What we get here is a quality film that somehow manages to mash up history, politics, horror, drama, and actual ghosts without turning into an emotional train wreck or an over-the-top melodrama. For an Indian film to pull that off without the usual histrionics is genuinely refreshing. Shot entirely in Kashmir, with top-notch acting, editing, production design, and direction across the board. Jambhale has crafted one of the most creative supernatural films to come out of India in recent memory, and here's why it works: it's anchored firmly in reality, history, and the real suffering of real people. The genius move here is making us experience the horror through the eyes of a Muslim family - the same religion as those who perpetrated the Kashmiri Pandit exodus - and forcing us to realize that regardless of religion, we all feel the same outrage when faced with atrocity, no matter who's dishing it out.

The sequences where history bleeds into present-day attacks where the veil thins between the dead and the living are masterfully interwoven, creating a storytelling and editing exercise that's both haunting and enlightening. A well-made film that doesn't preach but provokes thought. Perfect for lovers of history and supernatural storytelling who aren't afraid of confronting uncomfortable truths.

 

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Nov 9, 2025

Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein (2025) : A review

I had been meaning to watch Guillermo del Toro's 2025 adaptation of Frankenstein ever since it dropped on Netflix. As someone who has never actually read Mary Shelley's original novel (yeah, literary sacrilege!), I went in with zero expectations except knowing it was a del Toro film, which usually means visually stunning and emotionally complex storytelling. This is quintessential del Toro - all dark aqua blues, deep greens, and rich browns creating that Gothic atmosphere he's famous for. The production design is absolutely marvelous, every frame looking like a painting, if you were into that whole moody Victorian vibe art. This is definitely a movie that deserves to be seen on the biggest screen possible because of its sheer grandiloquence. Del Toro has this thing about redeeming his monsters, and this newest retelling of Frankenstein fits perfectly into that pattern. Oscar Isaac plays Victor Frankenstein and he's irresistibly handsome in that tortured genius way. Isaac's Victor is portrayed as a complete egotistical dickhead, which apparently has some book purists up in arms. I read in various forums that readers of Shelley's original have major issues with how this adaptation simplifies both Victor and the Creature's characterizations. The consensus seems to be that in the book, Victor is indeed a piece of work for abandoning his creation, but he was also just a naive young guy who couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of what he'd done. Similarly, while the Creature is tragic, he's also a stalker who intentionally murders innocents in his quest for revenge against Victor - far from the blameless victim we see in this movie version.

 


The script-writing deserves special mention here. There's this moment where the monster, still learning human speech, says something like "Perhaps this was the way of the world, the world would hunt you and kill you for the way you are." The philosophical poetry woven through the simple words of a creature learning to speak is just brilliant. There are several such dialogues that stay with you long after the credits roll.

The female lead had me scratching my head a bit. She's written as this very righteous, empathetic character – maybe that's how Mary Shelley, daughter of philosopher Mary Wollstonecraft, intended it. Women are often more empathetic than men, sure, but this lady thinks she's wise when she's really just displaying the foolishness of her immature young age. She was literally the only character who could have made Victor see the truth and helped redeem his ways, if only she would get down off her high horse and actually engage with the complexity of the situation instead of just being judgmental.

She falls in love with the creature ridiculously quickly, professing something like eternal love after what feels like two meetings. And wasn't she flirting a bit with Victor, her fiancé's older brother? The whole love angle felt forced, maybe they were staying true to the book, I wouldn't know.

 But sometimes a good story doesn't need to be complicated. Del Toro delivered something gorgeous to look at, Isaac brought his brooding good looks and acting, and Jacob Elordi as the Creature got some genuinely moving dialogue. 

The Arctic scenes alone are worth the watch. There's something haunting about that ship stuck in the ice, with the Creature framed against a pale sun that looks more like a dying moon. "I am malicious because I am miserable," the monster tells his creator, and you feel every word of that misery in the frozen wasteland that mirrors his isolation. Not every adaptation has to be exactly as the book, sometimes it just needs to be good television.

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Nov 8, 2025

Parichay (1972): A movie by Gulzar

All the stories that we could ever tell have already been told. Or we are at a point in human history with our hyper-connectivity that the stories that might have been viewed as fresh in the past are weak sauce now. All our sources have been exhausted or told and retold to death, and my attention span for long-form movies, like the rest of urban humanity, is fleeting-every-thirty-seconds if I'm being generous. When I'm watching these older films, there's usually nothing that rivets me to the couch, not that such a contraption is necessary. I'm usually glued there without any artificial means to achieve that state.

Gulzar's 1972 film Parichay is essentially The Sound of Music transplanted to an Indian setting, complete with a male live-in tutor tackling a bunch of unruly kids who happen to be the grandchildren of a wealthy zamindar. The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources, and back in 1972, The Sound of Music had probably only been seen by a handful of Indian elites who could travel abroad or lived in Bombay.

Jeetendra steps into the Julie Andrews role here, minus the singing on mountaintops but with plenty of his own charm - many times featuring his signature white on white outfit, white shirts and white pants. What makes Parichay stand out from your typical Bollywood fare of the early seventies is Jeetendra's character and his unusual narrative device. Our hero has what he calls his "second track", a mental monologue that surfaces as intermittent voice-overs throughout the film. This internal commentary feels surprisingly fresh and modern for a movie that's over fifty years old. The film follows the familiar template: stern patriarch, rebellious grandchildren who've turned the household upside down, and the arrival of a tutor who's supposed to whip them into shape. But Gulzar, being Gulzar, adds layers of nuance that elevate it beyond a simple adaptation. The kids aren't just mischievous for the sake of plot convenience; their rebellion stems from genuine grief and abandonment issues following their parents' deaths. Jaya Bhaduri plays Jeetendra's love interest, though calling her one of the "unruly kids" feels like a stretch considering she's clearly a legal adult who's completed her high school education. The romance subplot unfolds predictably but with enough genuine emotion to keep you invested. The supporting cast reads like a who's who of veteran Hindi cinema - Pran as the stern zamindar, Asrani as the loyal family servant, A.K. Hangal as Jeetendra's uncle, and Leela Mishra as his aunt. Sanjeev Kumar and Vinod Khanna make guest appearances, which speaks to the film's pedigree.  

Parichay might be a retelling of a familiar story, but sometimes the comfort of the familiar is exactly what you need. Gulzar takes the bones of The Sound of Music and gives it an Indian soul, complete with the emotional complexity that comes with joint family dynamics. For a film that could have easily been a lazy adaptation, it manages to find its own voice through that clever narrative device and solid performances from its ensemble cast. 

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Nov 3, 2025

A Cursed Man: A documentary by Liam Le Guillou

Liam Le Guillou's documentary "A Cursed Man", available on Kanopy (thanks public library streaming services), follows the documentary filmmaker on his quest to get cursed by practitioners of dark arts. While most sane people actively try to avoid hexes, jinxes, and supernatural misfortune, Le Guillou travels around asking witches, shamans, and voodoo priests to put the whammy on him.

The premise is fascinating in that train-wreck sort of way. Le Guillou genuinely needs to be convinced that magic exists, and apparently the only way his skeptical mind will accept supernatural phenomena is if something genuinely awful happens to him via a curse put on him. He travels the globe looking for a shaman or a witch who would put a curse on him. Many sincere practitioners try to dissuade him, but that is not stopping Le Guillou.

As Voodoo priest Divine Prince Ty Emmecca astutely observes, The norm is to be cursed. And so [what you’re doing] sounds, without being disrespectful, almost entitled," It's a fair point – here's this guy demanding bad mojo when most people are just trying to get by without additional (evil) cosmic interference.
What saves the documentary from becoming a complete vanity project is the quality of the conversations Le Guillou has with his subjects. The practitioners he meets are invested, honest, and well-intentioned people who take their craft seriously. Their insights into belief systems, spirituality, and the nature of reality make for genuinely thought-provoking viewing. These aren't carnival fortune tellers or charlatans – they're people with deep convictions about forces beyond our current scientific understanding.


Still, there's something oddly self-indulgent about the whole enterprise. Le Guillou reminds me of a male Elizabeth Gilbert, though thankfully without the insufferable privilege tourism of Eat-Pray-Love. Like Gilbert, he's a white person with enough time and resources to go soul-searching across continents, but at least his journey involves potential supernatural consequences rather than just some trite self indulgent and shallow observations we could have come up with, without leaving the confines of our couches. The most puzzling aspect is Le Guillou's insistence on curses rather than blessings. Multiple practitioners suggest that positive magic might be equally convincing proof of supernatural forces, but he's adamant that only bad things will make him a believer. It's an oddly masochistic approach to spiritual exploration. Despite its self-centered premise, *A Cursed Man* succeeds as an exploration of belief, faith, and the human need for meaning beyond the material world. Le Guillou puts his own well-being on the line for his documentary, which takes a certain kind of commitment. The result is an intriguing look at what lies beyond conventional understanding, even if the journey feels unnecessarily focused on inviting trouble.

 

 

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Sep 4, 2025

Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, a book review

TRIBE: Why Your Great-Grandmother Was Happier Than You (And She Had to Churn Her Own Butter)

I have been thinking about our pursuit of happiness. Not a particularly original thought. Everyone thinks about happiness. We have apps for it. TED talks. Life coaches who charge $200 an hour to tell us mindful gratitude is the answer while we sit in traffic behind a guy texting and driving a Cyberjunk.

Sebastian Junger has written a book that suggests the problem might be simpler than we think. Junger’s 2016 book Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging is essentially 150 pages of anthropological evidence that modern civilization might be the longest-running practical joke in human history, and the punchline is us sitting alone in our climate-controlled boxes wondering why we feel so empty.

The central thesis hits you with the realization that your great-grandmother who raised nine kids during the Depression was probably more content than you with your meditation app and ergonomic desk chair. Junger presents the mind-bending historical fact that white settlers captured by Native American tribes - even those taken as adults - often refused to return to "civilized" society when given the chance. These weren't Stockholm syndrome cases; they genuinely preferred native American life to their former European-American existence. Meanwhile, the reverse almost never happened. Junger discusses how the human experience is profoundly shaped by our need for genuine community bonds that modern society has systematically demolished.

Modern loneliness has a particular quality. It's not the loneliness of being actually alone, say, a lighthouse keeper or a long-distance runner. It's the loneliness of being surrounded by people who don't really see you. Your LinkedIn network of 500+ connections is probably making you lonelier than a hermit.

Another interesting observation is modern western culture is the only culture in human history that forces babies to sleep alone. This started with Northern European societies. Now it's standard Western parenting. We put newborns in separate rooms so they can "learn to self-soothe." We buy monitors to watch them from another room. We have apps that track their breathing patterns.

The rest of the world thinks we've lost our minds.

Every other society lets children sleep with parents until the children decide they don't want to. The idea of making the most vulnerable humans on Earth sleep in isolation strikes other cultures as cruel. We call it independence training. We begin the separation process before babies can even hold up their heads.

Even more disturbing is Junger's documentation of how crisis brings out the best in people, and how much they miss it when it's gone. During World War II, something unexpected happened in London. As the Blitz intensified, depression rates plummeted. Suicide dropped. Crime decreased. Mental hospitals reported fewer patients intake. The most dangerous neighborhoods saw the biggest improvements in mental health. This is not because suffering is good. This is because shared suffering creates bonds that individual comfort cannot.

Consider the modern American male. No initiation ceremony. No rite of passage. No moment when the community says, "Congratulations, you're officially not a boy anymore, here's your man card."

So he joins the military. Or doesn't, and spends his thirties playing video games while his mother does his laundry and wonders where she went wrong. Then we end up living in cities where we don't know our neighbors' names. Survival depends on credit scores and whether our health insurance covers therapy. 

The uncomfortable truth Junger presents is that we've created a society optimized for individual comfort and security while accidentally destroying the social bonds that make life feel worth living. Junger argues that we're all suffering from a kind of cultural PTSD. Not from trauma, but from disconnection. Not from what happened to us, but from what we've lost.

The solution is not to romanticize the past or abandon civilization. The solution is to understand what we've traded away. And maybe, occasionally, to trade it back. To choose inconvenience over isolation. Community over comfort. Interdependence over independence. To remember that humans are tribal animals and that our cellphone cannot substitute for the pack.

It cannot. We know this. We've always known this. We just keep forgetting to remember.


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Mar 23, 2025

Pat Tillman, Jon Krakauer and my forays into Americans writing about Americans

The last couple of years I've been trying to read more writing by contemporary U.S. authors writing about contemporary U.S events. Since reading had taken a backseat with most of my time spent perusing the world using the prosthetic extension of a cellphone attached to my body at all times, the exploration of American literature had not been really successful until the last few weeks. 

I started with one of my favorite non-fiction authors, the mountaineer from Massachusetts, Jon Krakauer and his book about the all American hero, Pat Tillman, 'Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman'. 

More than twenty years ago, I had followed the story of Pat Tillman when he made national headlines ditching a lucrative NFL career and signed up in the Army and got sent to Afghanistan along with his brother Kevin Tillman. I knew nothing about football, but I had cable TV and Netflix movies were being delivered as CDs in red envelopes which was slower than cable content delivery. 

Tillman seemed like an interesting guy - an All American boy, a footballer who read books and sounded deep! A very interesting and rare combo and he was close to me in age. If he had an Instagram or YouTube channel, I would have been a subscriber.

But when things went horrifically wrong for Pat Tillman, I stopped following the story. The man was gone. A human being with so much potential for changing humanity whose life has been cut short and people were bickering to profit and spin his story into something it was not. I felt bad for his poor family, but the world moved on, so did I. While I knew Jon Krakauer had come out with his book about Tillman a few years later, for some unexplainable reason I didn't want to read it, maybe I didn't want to read about a good man's story with a fatal irreversible ending.

I read/listened to and finished "Where Men Win Glory : The Odyssey of Pat Tillman" yesterday. It was everything I thought it would be and more. It is a splendid homage to Tillman and I appreciate Krakauer writing it. Just like he wrote about Christopher McCandless's life and story in 'Into the Wild'. These men and women's lives are the stories that need to be told and heard, to enrich our human experience and for us to understand and be guided by these unique people. These are our contemporaries who went down these daringly different paths so that we do not have to, but yet left us with valuable life lessons. I am glad to have lived during the time these men lived. 

For the fact-hoarder that I am, the book also provided a lot of setting-the-background type of historical information like the 2000 Bush-Gore election, Afghanistan being the graveyard of empires - with focus on Soviet occupation and American presence, the tribalism of Afghanistan, the Pashtun code (Pashtunwali) , the different factions of Islamic fighters in that area and their history, US deployments, US bases and their involvement since 1980s till mid-2000s in that region.

Salute, Pat Tillman, for choosing the difficult path rarely chosen. Krakauer had to rely on Pat's journal entries and notes as Tillman family refused to contribute to Krakauer's effort. Pat's mother had her own book published about Pat. 

Maybe I will move onto Krakauer's Missoula or Under the Banner of Heaven next. Although I am about midway into Erik Larson's rundown to the start of the Civil War, 'The Demon of Unrest: A Saga of Hubris, Heartbreak and Heroism at the Dawn of the Civil War.' I need to finish that first.


“Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle, would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal, so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory. But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us in their thousands, no man can turn aside nor escape them, let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.”
- Homer, The Iliad



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