Can I call November ‘boisterous’? Never mind whether I can or not. November has been a pretty boisterous month for Darby and Joan. Largely responsible for this is Brit tragic hero who had a disastrous accident about two and a half weeks ago while racing Polish Goddess’ car. Ever since the mishap, we have become close friends. A thorough Brit and, therefore, self-admittedly, born with an accountant’s soul, he has shown us a film for every meal we have shared with him. Last Thursday we watched Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Ghostdog: The Way of the Samurai’, a samurai ‘gansta’ flick starring Forest Whitaker who plays an African American mafia hit man. He models himself after the samurai of old and follows the ancient code of the samurai as outlined in the book of Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s recorded sayings, ‘Hagakure’ (courtesy WIKI). A slightly pretentious film, according to Darby. Seconded by me. However, on the plus side, the film has an amazing soundtrack by Wu-Tang Clan's RZA. Whitaker, despite his girth, is menacing. His eyes do the trick, reminding us once again of ‘The Last King of Scotland’ that released seven years later. ‘Ghostdog’ was preceded by ‘Sexy Beast’ which has a stupendous performance by Ben Kingsley, a performance that left Darby speechless for days. He couldn’t quite believe Kingsley was the same guy who played Gandhi. The film has some knockout lines and Don Logan is quite a beast. Our first cinematic adventure since Brit tragic hero’s accident has been a beautiful French film set against the Paris underworld, ‘De battre mon coeur s'est arête (The Beat That My Heart Skipped). This 2005 French film is a remake of James Toback's 1978 film 'Fingers. Duris puts in a powerful performance as a young, real estate broker who is torn between his love for music and aspiration to become a concert pianist, and his commitment to the dodgy, underbelly of the real estate mafia that he works for. Joan particularly loved the film's last scene, almost poetic in its import and effect. On our own we discovered a Tapan Sinha gem, ‘Nirjan Saikate’ (on the lines of ‘Amrita kumbher Shandhaane’) based on a novel by Samaresh Basu. It does seem unfair of history that it made Tapan Sinha a contemporary of Ray. Such a sensitive filmmaker! Such grasp of the minutest nuances of Bengali life!
As the accident saga continues, we have come to a stage when we tell Brit tragic hero repeatedly that it is impossible to keep a tab on the number of Earl Grey-s, ciggies and dinners that have been borrowed, lent and shared. The man is an absolute sweetheart and Darby and Joan now understand why mothering him would come effortlessly to so many of his female acquaintances. Lucky him??!!
We were finally introduced to an Indian in this city, a businessman from Delhi who has been living here for the past year and a half. Joan has to admit that as a couple they are not ‘dying’ to get acquainted with Indians here. Overfamiliarity with one’s own culture and people can be stifling. A break from anything Indian, barring Bengali films and music, has been both refreshing and exciting. What does all of the above prove? We have been rather hyperactive socially, attending dinners and inviting friends over. This also means that there have been marathon cooking sessions. That reminds me…Darby and Joan are Bongs at heart, so no denying the love for fish. We love the trout available here, called ‘pstrang’.
P.S. Multiple consonants tumbling one after the other in a word makes me feel murderous!!! What a difficult language!!!)
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