Are these films really the new cinema, worthy of the hype and celebration and the new directors really the new stars and trail-blazers offering pulsating, exciting, no-holds-barred, creative chutzpah that separates the real from the fluff?
Sure, Bollywood is on the rise, but as a global force that instantly demands and gets respect, awe, admiration and attention, sorry folks, Hollywood is the real thing.
Even megastars like Amitabh Bachchan and Salman Khan are rebelling against Bollywood— the word that is.
The star wrestler-actor Dara Singh embodied all that Indian-style clarified butter or “desi ghee” stands for — not least its potential for good honest home-grown strength and tenacity.
Frankly, India of the late 1960s was totally unprepared for Rajesh Khanna. The film industry, blown out of its mind, christened him Superstar. Stardust, the new iconoclastic, irreverent and deliciously chatpata new film magazine on the block, baptized him the Phenomenon and sold out its maiden issue within days just via banners enquiring whether Rajesh will/has married his girlfriend (at that time) Anju Mahendru?
Music is the essential stressbuster for many Bollywood stars, trying to cope with erratic shooting schedules, hectic travel and long hours under the arclights, not to mention the unrelenting paparazzi gaze.
Aishwarya’s figure is cause for global distress. The querry “Aishwarya figure”throws up over 4 million results on google.
The awkward fact remains that although Bollywood is the world’s largest movie factory, we don’t register even a hiccup in this gala, global, mega feast. Historically we have been conditioned and programmed to believe that it’s not the winning or losing, but participation that is the key.
Will Chillar Party’s National Award inspire a rush of child films?
The Indian Premier League is no longer perceived as a great threat for film releases.
Possibly shaken up by these flops, she attempted to switch lanes, get adventurous and experiment with masala fare.
How far are Bollywood stars willing to prostitute themselves?
Why does the most glamorous, celebrated and venerated award spurn Bollywood, the world’s largest film industry?
The idiot screen overwhelms the idiot box, once the spot for cute, sweet, homely, intimate fare.
A fan and critic bids farewell to the most enduring — and handsome — of Bollywood’s romantic legends.
The fact that the movie was a thinly-veiled bio of the southern sex-bomb of the 1980s Silk Smitha added solid, lip-smacking spice.
Atta Girl! Way to go! Never was dirt so sexily rewarding!