And now a movie buff

With our son and d-i-l  off to office and grandsons to schools, it is time hi time hai for us.  Even when we perform the daily chores on slow motion, we are free by 12.30 pm. Lunch over by 1.30, and it is movie time till they trickle back one by one. Thus on an average we get to see, courtesy Netflix,  Amazon and TV’s own channels, five movies a week - Monday to Friday - like a physician’s prescription.  Here is my take on some we watched.

The Debt (English). A team of three, two men and one lady, of Mossad (the Israel equivalent of CIA or CBI) is sent on a secret mission to capture and bring alive a German doctor, nicknamed ‘The Surgeon of Birkenau (a concentration/extermination camp)”  to Israel to face a trial for his active role in poisoning and killing thousands of Jews during World War II Holocaust. Whether the team  succeeds, partly achieves its goal, or fails, is all the film is about. With the screenplay shifting back and forth, it keeps you on tenterhooks as events unfold themselves. Rating: 4 stars.  

That took me down the memory lane. I recollect having seen over the years at least three movies on Nazi’s atrocities. One is The Train featuring Burt Lancaster. The Germans overpower France, and try to smuggle some of the finest artefacts from French art galleries to Germany. Burt Lancaster, the French engine driver is forced, at gun point, to drive the train all the way up to the German border. The French Station Master gets a secret message to manipulate in such a way that the train does not leave the French territory; and he does so with alacrity.  He alerts his counterparts in stations en route who promptly change the name-boards of stations as though the train is heading towards Germany, but is in fact making circles all within France. By then the Allied Forces gain upper hand and the German attempt is foiled. A fine movie.

The other is Eichmann. A Nazi member, his job was mass deportation of Jews to concentration camps. After WW II, he escaped to Argentina on an assumed name. One Jew who survives the concentration camp is settled in Argentina and has lost his eye sight since. By sheer chance he gets introduced to Eichmann in a park. By the smell of the scent that Eichmann patronised, he suspects that it was Eichmann and alerts Mossad.  And Eichmann too notices the Concentration Camp ID number tattooed on the guy’s arm when he shook hands with him, and stays extra alert since then. Mossad goes  about collecting more evidence on Eichmann. But Eichmann gives them a slip and was about to board a plane when Mossad whisks him away to Israel for trial. The treatment of subject deserved compliments.

Last but not the least, Life is Beautiful. The Italian hero got the Best Actor award at Oscar for this role. I was told that he specialised  in comedy and got a national award for some other movie. At that time someone asked him if he could make a comedy out of a serious subject like Holocaust. And he  accepted the challenge. The result, Life is Beautiful, another outstanding Holocaust movie. 

On reflection, I wondered why Bollywood should not attempt some of these edge-of-the-seat thrillers drawing inspiration from British rule in India. Off the cuff, I cann’t recollect any movie other than on Gen. Dyer’s Jallianwala Bagh massacre.   

We watched two Hindi movies.  Talvar, (Irrfan Khan).  Debutant director Meghna Gulzar, coming from the Gulzar stable, could have trimmed footage. Another  version featuring K K Menon, I was told, was a shade better. Rating: 2-1/2 stars. Madaari, (also Irrfan Khan). A little long drawn. Just watchable. And, two more English movies  - Heist (Robert De Niro, Jeffery Dean Morgan) gangster type. Nail-biting. Unwittingly your support leans on the criminal. Experiment in Terror, a 1962 movie. A little slow. Fetched the best supporting actor at Oscar for the villain. The movie brings back the charms of the good old days, and of black and white.

V VSundaram

30 Oct 2016

The Making of US-2016 Trip

It was with mixed feelings that Aunty and I gave finishing touches to packing, way past midnight. On the one hand, we felt we had made only a modest beginning of our life in SFV with Ekavta-2016 and Navaratri celebrations, though Onam-2016 and the mega Diwali were still on the cards. On the other, there were events lined up in US too: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and Christmas/New Year eve. Given this equally poised scenario, which one takes the cake. Yes, the query from grandchildren. Each time we talked to them in the US, their first question was: “Thatha, are you speaking from the airport?” 

Once bitten twice shy, they say. And exceptions prove the rule or, the incorrigibles like me. Despite a bad experience years ago, I still selected the same European airlines. Last time the flight from Bangalore took off late causing us to miss the connecting flight. We were dumped into another aircraft that covered all airports except Alaska. And on top of that, bread, butter, jam, cookies, chocolates, ice cream were passed off as  Asian Vegetarian meals. They argued they needed 72 hours to cater to special requests. I had made up my mind to take up with higher-ups later. I had even mentally drafted a strong letter to that effect. But the joy of seeing my daughter in law, all set for motherhood in a fortnight, relegated everything to the background, as I said let bygones be bygones.

This time therefore I ensured we had nearly two hours of layover at the airlines’  hub in Europe so that even if the flight from Bangalore took off late, we won’t miss the connecting flight. But my God, the flight took off late exactly matching our layover time. And there was no connecting flight for the next 24 hours. They arranged for stay in Sheraton for a day in their hub. I promptly suspended temporarily my month-long resolution of sugar-free diet, to have a go at pecan pie, brownie with gay abandon.

On arrival in US, it is now dealing with the bunch of mail that awaited us. I segregate it into three. First it is WPB (waste paper basket, for the uninitiated), and a majority of the mail qualifies for it. Second, the lot I retain for posterity - such as the Hair Cut coupon, or the Buy1 Get 1 pizza coupons, each with deadlines. Third, the ones that need to be dealt with urgently. There was  for example one from my US bank that for 21 months I had not operated my account, and giving me five options to activate it. But the most important one was the ballot papers for us to cast our votes to the Presidential election. Not just for the President, it is for the Senator, Representative to the Congress, the city councillors, members to the Water Board, and which of the serving judges (by individual names) should ideally be retained or shown the door; and if the Scottsdale school budget should be increased. Last but not the least, if in your opinion the city should allow residents above 21 years to grow marijuana in their backyard…

Having gotten over the jet lag, we have resumed our morning walk. Aunty stays back to help Sunita (d-i-l) to cope with the early morning mad rush and to permit all of them to leave for school and office before 7.30. Thereafter Aunty goes for the walk. By then I am back from mine - early morning. In that hour, I cross shoulders mostly with dog-walkers. On day one, I maintained a respectable distance from the dogs, fully trained though. But on the second day when the dog tried to lick me and I tried to keep away, the owner lady held me back and said, “She expects you to pat her; she is very old, and very nice,” she reassured me. I patted the dog - superficially - with the words, “Hello, how are you?” The dog took my casual query seriously and drew closer to me. Probably she wanted me to continue patting her. I looked at my watch as though I was getting late. Then the lady said, “if you like I can allow her to walk along with you for a distance”. “That is okay, but it will then be difficult for me to send her back to the owner,” I said. My presence of mind, which disowns me at most crucial times, rescued me this time. On the second round, I met a guy this time with his dog, a ferocious one. I greeted him. He reciprocated and uttered, “Sorry dear, today your friend Mary is missing.” I was taken aback, till I realised that he was addressing his dog, which by then had spotted Mary at a distance and was overjoyed.

In the evenings, it is either gymnastics or American Football** practice for Rohan, our younger grandson; or piano or Scouts drill for Ashwin, the elder one. Sometimes both have their classes at the same time. So I accompany my son, Shankar, when he takes Rohan to one of these sessions, and Aunty goes with Sunita to Ashwin’s piano class or scouts drill. When the boys are busy with their sessions, Sunita and Aunty sneak out to the nearest  Bed, Bath and Beyond, or Ross to help Aunty buy her bathroom or kitchen requirements for use back in Bangalore, while Shankar and I go to Target or other nearby shops for a quick pre-investment survey of my requirements. But everything will wait for the mega offer of the year - the Thanksgiving and Black Friday.

Post-dinner, before retiring to bed, Ashwin obliges us on his  piano with the number he has been taught recently which he renders without missing too many beats. Following this, either Aunty or I play the board game, Othello, with Rohan to keep him in good humour. But, unlike the earlier occasions when we allowed him to win, this time he does win each time, and hands down. 

V V Sundaram

Maple 3195

25 October 2016

**Remember, where the players dressed up like Roman warriors minus the trident pounce on the player with a do or die grip to get him to part with the ball he is holding on to.