intan pratiwi

Ingmar Bergman’s 1972 feature is rereleased for its 50th anniversary and it looks even more intimately disturbing and pornographically painful than ever: a supernatural horror-tragedy of three sisters, and nothing could be less Chekhovian. Tableau scenes from a spiritual hell are vouchsafed to us, with cries of pain, surging and insistent zoom shots on troubled faces, together with inner-life static portraits, whose subjects stare dispassionately at us out of the screen in half-shadow while the whispering of despair susurrates on the soundtrack. In the early years of the last century, or the late years of the century before that, Agnes (Harriet Andersson) is living alone in the house where she grew up, attended by the family maid Anna (Kari Sylwan). Lonely, wretched Agnes has never married and is now dying of cancer. Her two married sisters Maria and Karin have come home, supposedly to nurse her, although they are selfishly concerned with their own unhappy marriages; the real business

 Devil's Advocate | What jars in the otherwise radical Jalsa is reinforcing of the noble servant stereotype Ramu Kaka is back on screen again, and this time he is called Ruksana. Jalsa does not reengineer a status quo that has somewhat been challenged by international films like The White Tiger and Parasite. Ramu Kaka is back on screen again, and this time he is called Ruksana. She works for a wealthy journalist/television personality, Maya Menon. Unsurprisingly, Ruksana is sincere, selfless, and almost overcommitted to the Menon household. Where have we seen this before? The history of Hindi cinema is filled with servants who serve their masters, good or bad, as if romantically inclined to the idea of servitude. It is a fragile but ultimately satisfying view of society where conformist, almost truthful slavery is framed as an honourable privilege. It is this status quo that makes this country of stomach-churning inequalities tick. Jalsa is a tense, well-made film about similar cla

 On Lalit Pandit's birthday, revisiting the enduring appeal of the music of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaenge 'Very rarely does a composer get an opportunity to work on a musical like this where the director knew exactly where to use the songs, and how. Plus, we had Lataji. We couldn’t go wrong.” Although it was Lata Mangeshkar who sang almost all of the songs in Aditya Chopra’s record-breaking directorial  debut Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, it was her sister who got Jatin-Lalit on board as music composers. Asha Bhonsle was instrumental in getting Jatin-Lalit this assignment. Lalit Pandit and his brother Jatin  had gone to meet Bhonsle to condole when RD Burman had passed away. She happened to ask if they had worked with Yash Chopra. When the Pandit brothers expressed eagerness to work with Bollywood’s most successful filmmaker, Bhonsle dialled and spoke to Yash Chopra then and there. Yash Chopra, a diehard Lata Mangeshkar bhakta, wanted  only her for all the female vocals, and Jati

Kanye West can never exit a news cycle. He has claimed to be many things – a god, a legend, a Donald Trump supporter, a US presidential candidate, husband to Kim Kardashian, and most importantly in the case of this Netflix docuseries, a genius. Kanye West can never exit a news cycle. The hip-hop artist, producer, entrepreneur, and fashion mogul has claimed to be many things – a god, a legend, a Donald Trump supporter, a US presidential candidate, husband to Kim Kardashian, and most importantly in this case, a genius.  In 1998, Coodie aka Clarence Simmons Jr began covering his local Chicago hip-hop scene and came across a young, determined yet somewhat reticent music producer named Kanye West. Coodie – along with fellow filmmaker Chike Ozah – follow along an artist they felt was on the cusp of something greater. They had no idea where it would take them, and this is often repeated in their opus documentary Jeen-Yuhs, a trilogy released on Netflix between February and March, chronicling