Race, Religion and Rock N' Roll!

Blinded by the Light (2019)
Director: Gurinder Chadha

Maybe it is the slave mentality at work. The slaves looked up to their masters and wanted to be like them very much. They see them as the proof of success, the pinnacle of achievement, and yearning to walk in their shoes. That is where the buck stops. The slaves chose what was 'good' and what was not acceptable.

Many middle-income Malaysian Indians who were teenagers in the late 70s and early 80s had to endure this, yours truly included. The parents worked hard to provide their offspring what they missed growing up. What they thought they missed most was the ability to acquire education, pass examinations and the remunerations that came with it. They wished to achieve what they did not get, like the opportunity for education, freedom by their standards and academic achievements through their children.

They did not, however, want the Master's idea of independence. Their idea of children is to be seen but not heard. The last thing they wanted was children talking back to their parents. They did not appreciate the parents' shortcomings in parenting to be pinpointed. No matter how high the children flew, they had to display Asian values, filial piety and show unwavering loyalty to the clans till their dying days. 

One peculiar thing about my mother is she was not too keen on us, the children, listening to Western songs. They wanted us to be conversant and proficient in English, but Tamil songs on RTM Red Network were the only songs blaring over the family radio. When my parents were away on errands, we heard English songs clandestinely over Radio RAAF and the RTM Blue Network. She feared we would be wild kids, showing disrespect and forgetting our roots. That was what she thought of the Masters - only substance but no soul. She wanted us to learn the things that would pull us out of the clutches of poverty but keep the Indian values.

Fast forward to the 21st century. A few of the family members have uprooted themselves from this country, seeking greener pastures in the land of the Masters. In their minds, their children would be more assured of a comfortable lie ahead.

With the children now at rebellious ages, these parents face the same dilemma as my parents. Like my parents, they wanted their kids to absorb what they viewed as 'good' qualities and reject the 'bad'. Of course, life is never so easy.

Boy George

That is what Malik, a Pakistani immigrant to the UK, had to encounter bringing up his children in Luton in the 1980s. On one end is Malik, who uprooted his life for a better life for his family. He has big plans for his family, things he never had in Pakistan. On the other hand, he wished his host country could be more cordial with their arrival. It was the 80s at the heights of unemployment and Thatcherism. Malik's son, Javed, has a mind of his own. He wants to experience life, be a writer, enjoy music, and not follow the uninspiring path that a typical Pakistani teenager is made to follow. Somewhere along the way, Javed is introduced to Bruce Springsteen's music. It just blew his mind. He finally found someone who reads his mind.

The rest of the movie is a musical galore for teenagers of the 80s who grew up with liberal doses of synthesisers-filled Brit new-wave music. It is a long trip down memory lane with the likes of 'Pet Shop Boys', 'A-ha' and an overdose of Bruce Springsteen. Sadly, I never grew up appreciating his type of shouting melody. It was a time when girls dressed up like Boy George with pleated hair, thick make-up and chequered dress, and Boy George was not a boy. But nobody made a fuss about it.

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Just a biological act or something divine?

Y tu mamá también (And your mother too, Mexican Spanish, 2001)

Director: Alfonso Cuarón

Interestingly, sex has always assigned the duty of maturing someone and smacking people with the profound answer of the reason for existence. Tinseltown impresses us that sex is the panacea to all our worldly problems. Of course, we all know that sex may also create problems of its own.

There was a time when sex was accorded a special status in society. Because of its mysterious nature, which was ill-understood by primitive men, sanctioning permission to indulge in this biological activity was complicated. Many requirements and rituals had to be fulfilled to obtain access.

As the societal restrictions became increasingly questioned with no logical explanation in sight, the biological act came to be treated as such, a biological process, not needing frills and pomp. Humans were merely continuing the spread of their seeds for the continuity of species.

Slowly sex lost its respected status in society. No more did ritual-sanctioning coital-related activities make any sense. Sex became a plaything and acquired many new roles - break-up sex, revenge sex, coming-of-age sex, casual one-night-stand sex and more; all deviated from its intended purpose, i.e. sowing the oats. Oats were sowed alright, but wildly.

But then, in modern society, sexuality becomes more complicated. Their premise is that love does not necessarily blossom between genders but within genders too. Gender is fluid, and a person picks and chooses the gender he feels at that moment; a male in the morning and a female in the evening, perhaps?

This story is about two precious sex-crazed 17 years-old boys who had left their girlfriends at the airport. The girls are off on a family European summer vacation. The boys, minors legally, are already smoking, drinking and sexually active. They are hoping for a sex-filled summer sexcapade. They meet a cousin's bored wife at a party. They try to flirt with her, offering to take her to a secret beach hideout. The bored wife discovers that her husband had a fling. Heartbroken, she decides to join the boys on their road trip.

The boys obviously want to bed the sexually mature lady. After many ups and downs, quarrelling and soul searching, the summer turned out to be a season none of them could forget, especially the boys.


"Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea." is a dialogue in the movie. Well, it is not so straightforward. If one has put his mind to surfing, he has to manoeuvre his body and posture in such a way that he stays afloat and not swept away by a massive wave and goes under. In strict terms, he is not merely giving himself away to the sea but skilfully using the buoyancy of the water and propulsive forces of the waves to his benefit. Similarly, man cannot simply surrender to his primal instincts but plan his life with his intellect.

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It is all about how we make it!

Last Film Show (Chhello Show, Gujerati; 2021)
Director: Pan Nalin

Growing up in a lower-middle-class Asian family, the last thing we were allowed to do as children was to indulge in too much time watching movies. Movies were considered evil, deterrents that would derail us from our purpose in life. In their eyes, the purpose of life hovers around getting into the fields of law, medicine, engineering or teaching (if you are a female). Anything else would not just cut it.

As we grew up in our own time, we realised that life is neither black nor white. Straying away from the top four noble professions did not make one a failure, and following religiously along the pre-planned path would assure success.

This Gujerati film is a surprise nomination for the 2022 Academy Award Best International Feature Film Category, instead of 'R.R.R.' or 'The Kashmir Files'. This movie, by all means, is not an original one. It is inspired (or plagiarised, depending on which camp one is) by the Italian 1988 masterpiece 'Cinema Paradiso'. Many undeniably familiar scenes give viewers the feeling of deja vu. Suddenly the small railway town in Gujerat feels like the heartland of interior Italy.

A 10-year-old boy, Samay, is thrilled when he is taken by his father to watch a movie at the local cinema. Usually, he does not allow his children to watch movies, but since this is a devotional movie, he makes an exception. He thought perhaps by viewing such a movie, some good values may seep in. He also warned Samay and his sister that this would probably be their first and last film show.

Little Samay is, however, totally captivated by the projection of light and panoramic range of colours that seem to emanate from that tiny hole up in the wall. Besides his school time, when he hardly concentrates anyway, and the help he gives at his father's tea stall at the railway, he spends most of his time in the projection room after befriending and trading his lunch with the projectionist.

In this coming-of-age film, young Samay and his inquisitive friends sneak around, steal rolls of film, get into trouble with the men in blue, and, finally, a big lesson in life. The film's highlight must surely be their effort in screening a movie from an improvised projector made from discarded household items and their voice-over for sound effects. Whatever is said and done, this movie is highly commendable for its creativity.

The other lesson the storytellers seem to impart is the impermanence of everything around us. At once, these projection films were such valued merchandise; they were protected under lock and key with police protection. The next moment, we see that they are worthless. They are discarded with other trash. Even as discards, the film rolls are still helpful. They give joy to many young girls in the form of coloured bangles. The projector and film covers are recycled as cutlery.

An exciting viewing, 8/10.

(P.S. The School of Hard Knocks have taught me that nothing is wasteful. Immersing oneself in the make-believe world of Tinseltown or the mirage of the cyber world will not turn that person into someone he does not want to be. Everyone has the mental capacity and free will to decide the path that he wants to follow. Knowledge has no boundaries and can never be wasteful. The same media that spews porn also teach coding. Films put reality on screen. It mimics life for us to appreciate that life is precious and is malleable to the path we want to follow!)

(P.P.S. Interestingly, the protagonist's name is Samay, meaning time. We can see how Samay @ time evolves with everchanging exposures and challenges that hit upon it. And it is ever ready to change!)

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Rocked you like a hurricane!

Blues Gang

I was just thinking the other day. Occasionally, in my social media group, one or two members would send snippets of Malay songs of the 80s and 90s. These songs used to be high on the music chart and ruled the airwaves in their heydays. I was pleasantly surprised that these group members were even familiar with such songs.

We, the teenagers of the late 70s and 80s, must be a lost generation. The generation that grew up under the umbrella of the Malaysian New Education policy imbibed in Malay culture and songs.

We grew up laughing at P Ramlee's antics in his actual Malaysian-themed movies and comedies in our preteen years. We ended up watching them umpteen times, probably able to rattle out certain classic dialogues and recall particular scenes from his films at the drop of a hat.

The 80s saw a renaissance of modern guitar and drums bands that were belting out hard and punk rock music. Rock Kapak was another branch of rock of Malay punk. These bands were so popular that every Saturday night saw mobile stages erected in small towns for bands to belt out their brand of music. National competitions were rave. In these otherwise mundane small towns, which had boring weekends and lights out after the territorial TV ended its transmission, these events gave them a purpose in life. Small-time businesses and vendors made their killings. 

Amy Search

As the saying goes, all good times must surely end. The new wave of Islamic scholars sent to the Middle East on scholarships generated by petroleum-fueled prosperity needed to prove their worth. They raised their eyebrows condescendingly, shaking their turban-donned head in unison. They decreed that uninhibited mixing of sexes was sacrilegious. The intoxicating mixture of electric guitar, drums and percussions swayed believers from the purpose on Earth, i.e. to hail Maker's glory. The police agreed as intoxicants found their way to these meetings. These concerts simply had to stop. The memories of Gersang, JJ Carefree, Sweet Charity, Wings, Ramli Sarip, Search, Chris Vadham, Ben Nathan, Blues Gang, Awie, Headwind, Alleycats, Ella and the Boys, Zaiton Sameon and even the notorious Mona Fandey and talented M Nasir just remain as that, mere distant memories of a bygone era.

 

With the new post-Iranian Revolution's zest to uphold self-perceived the Almighty decree on Earth, the interest in hard rock dwindled. This 'decadent' music was labelled as devil-worshipping, and believers who were seen indulging in such melodies were looked upon with accusing eyes reserved for a heretic. Music taste shifted towards desert-themed rhythm even though it should be Hawaiian as we are in the tropics. Remember Terang Bulan, Mamula Moon and Negara-ku?

So it was indeed a pleasing experience to have my social media friends showing keen interest in that music of our early adulthood when Malaysia had its own brand of rock - Rock Kapak!  

(PS. Dedicated to JT, SA, RS, SK, HS, SM. You know who you are!)

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Just fear fear itself!

It: Chapter 1 (2017)


Coulrophobia is a psychological condition when its sufferer feels a morbid fear of clowns. Funny it may sound as clowns are generally employed to liven up an event, a child's birthday or as a filler between circus performances. Furthermore, as the general statement goes, come sun or rain, the show must go on. Movie buffs will quickly remember Raj Kapoor's 'Mera Naam Joker' (My name is Joker) where the clown has to make his audience laugh even though he was crying and dying inside. Sivaji Ganesan also did a similar rendition in 'Rajapath Rangadurai' in the song 'Jinjunaka' where he, dressed as a clown, had to entertain a rowdy despite his bleeding heart.

There is a logical explanation to coulrophobia. Clowns are accepted in certain places, parties, circus etcetera. He elevates the mood. However, outside this ambit, people are supposed to behave appropriately. Humans, as survival defence mechanism, have developed pattern recognition. They become wary when a person smiles for no reason (like clowns often do). They form an innate fear of harm when encountered in such a situation. Hence, the underlying phobia.

I do not fancy horror movies. In fact, I have not read any of Stephen King's novels. This story was written by him. The reason is simple. After growing up beside a Chinese cemetery, having witnessed aftermaths of jumpers from the top floors of the seventeen storeyed flats and regularly spending many good hours under the shade of an Angsana tree in the heart of Batu Gantong cemetery, my sisters and I decided that believing in ghosts is all hocus-pocus. It is all just a figment of our imaginations. We saw not a single apparition in our twelve years of sojourn there. Like the message that goes towards the end of the movie, it is clear. The only thing in life we have to fear is fear itself. A frightened person will even be apprehensive of his shadows.


This 2017 story reminds its viewer very much of the 80s Spielberg movie, 'Goonies' as it was also set in the 80s, a coming-of-age story involving a gang of cycling losers and their adventures outside schooling hours. The layout, however, is much darker, with plenty of blood splattering, sheer savagery and brutal violence not excepted from young teenage children. The sexual connotations are not mere innuendos but real in-your-face long French kisses and incestuous dialogues.

The story goes about a clown who appears once every 27 years to create mayhem in another town and disappear a year later. One of the protagonist's brother was pulled in the drain during a rainy day. Thinking that the boy might still be alive, he embarks on a heart-stopping, stomach-churning experience to get to the root of the matter and literally squash the clown to smithereens.