Yeah, it's the same in English. Look, you already know some Hindi!
Last week I went to a movie theater in India for the first time. Let me tell you - the US is doing it wrong. In India you get assigned seats, so there's no need to arrive hours in advance just to sit with your friends. The seats (in the really nice theaters) do that lean-back-slide-forward thing, optimizing both comfort and space. And in addition to the standard popcorn and soda, they have fresh corn (a popular snack at malls and markets here) and...Baskin Robbins. It's lovely.
The movie we went to see has been generating a lot of talk over the last month or so. It was produced by the ever so dreamy actor-turned-producer Aamir Khan (So what if he's 46? He's hot.) and stars his nephew, the equally dreamy and more age appropriate (yet sadly married, I checked), Imran Khan. The movie is called Delhi Belly. It is dirty in every sense of the word and it is, dare I say, fantastic.
Here's the trailer:
It's basically the Hangover and American Pie mashed up masala style. Action, bodily functions, sex, suspense, humor, violence, more bodily functions. I don't know if I would have thought the movie was so funny if it were a Hollywood film. Part of the appeal was the shock of seeing and hearing things that Bollywood normally wouldn't go near. In Hollywood, such topics are old hat. In Bollywood, a multi-second kiss is about as wild as it gets. Until now, apparently.
I don't know when Delhi Belly will roll around to the grocery stores of Cary and Murray Hill, but if you want to see another Aamir Khan-produced movie (this one starring him, too), I'd recommend Dhobi Ghat. I think it's called Mumbai Diaries in English and it's definitely available on Netflix instant play. It's not a comedy. It's actually really depressing. But it's a non-Bollywood (and non-Hollywood) look at India and I enjoyed it.
Last week I went to a movie theater in India for the first time. Let me tell you - the US is doing it wrong. In India you get assigned seats, so there's no need to arrive hours in advance just to sit with your friends. The seats (in the really nice theaters) do that lean-back-slide-forward thing, optimizing both comfort and space. And in addition to the standard popcorn and soda, they have fresh corn (a popular snack at malls and markets here) and...Baskin Robbins. It's lovely.
The movie we went to see has been generating a lot of talk over the last month or so. It was produced by the ever so dreamy actor-turned-producer Aamir Khan (So what if he's 46? He's hot.) and stars his nephew, the equally dreamy and more age appropriate (yet sadly married, I checked), Imran Khan. The movie is called Delhi Belly. It is dirty in every sense of the word and it is, dare I say, fantastic.
Here's the trailer:
It's basically the Hangover and American Pie mashed up masala style. Action, bodily functions, sex, suspense, humor, violence, more bodily functions. I don't know if I would have thought the movie was so funny if it were a Hollywood film. Part of the appeal was the shock of seeing and hearing things that Bollywood normally wouldn't go near. In Hollywood, such topics are old hat. In Bollywood, a multi-second kiss is about as wild as it gets. Until now, apparently.
I don't know when Delhi Belly will roll around to the grocery stores of Cary and Murray Hill, but if you want to see another Aamir Khan-produced movie (this one starring him, too), I'd recommend Dhobi Ghat. I think it's called Mumbai Diaries in English and it's definitely available on Netflix instant play. It's not a comedy. It's actually really depressing. But it's a non-Bollywood (and non-Hollywood) look at India and I enjoyed it.
oh dear. watched the trailer. my brother, highly surprisingly, will love this film.
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