My first Tarantino movie. I have mixed feelings about this, but no, it’s not because of the glorified gore and violence. I am no longer as shocked by violence on screen being subjected to it so often in these big budget films (while this doesn’t mean I have acquired a taste for it but rather, the existence of such violence doesn’t surprise me).

Since I do not have a reference to compare Tarantino’s earlier works having not watched any of them, I noticed how plot-wise something serious would be happening on the screen and you can sense the tension, but somehow the characters in the situation on screen are acting in this absurd humourous manner that makes you laugh and feel disturbed at the same time. Is that typical in his movies? It certainly was one of those things which stood out in my experience.

To talk at length about the movie, I’d have to give away spoilers which I don’t want to – but suffice to say, the movie’s worth watching simply because of couple of splendid performances by the villainous Christoph Waltz and Mélanie Laurent and some breathtakingly cinematic moments.

I find it extremely hard to review something Coetzee has written. I’ve read two of his earlier books, one of them being the critically acclaimed Disgrace and each time I was so moved, so amazed by his writing but failed exceptionally at being able to say why it was so moving or amazing. His writing leaves me overwhelmed.

But Slow Man is quite unlike the other two books I’ve read. I know its unfair to make comparisons, but with Coetzee I have started expecting a certain literary standard now.

The novel starts with a stark examination with the physical and later emotional debilitation of a man in his late sixties devoid of any sentimentalism that would usually shroud such incidents in literature. But the novel soon looses its poignancy as there are a bizarre turn of events when Elisabeth Costello is let loose on us readers. While the novel takes a different tone when she appears, it does not save the book from being a slow, painful exercise.

Generic Hollywood ‘disaster movie’ fare. Despite the special effects and the sounds, the movie is not moving, not engaging, not thrilling – not even a bit.

This is the kind of book I wouldn’t want to be seen holding publicly. There! I admit it. I’m sort of a snob when it comes literature. But at the same time, I have also stepped out of ‘snob territory’ to experiment with these kind of books.

My Friend Sancho is an entertaining read. The book is written in a very informal narrative, trying to awkwardly juggle between moments of grief and humour, yet never really going deep enough. After you’ve laughed your way through the pages, you realize that the whole book was a bit like listening to someone ramble on, punctuating their monologue with plenty of mirth inducing sarcasm.

I looked at the summary at the back of the DVD and thought that it would be one of those mindless comedies set in a prison but Greenfingers surprised me as a very sensibly and a sensitively made movie. I think Clive Owen is brilliant as the brooding, repenting but reserved inmate who turns over a new leaf slowly.

Having read the book about five years back, I had been wanting to watch this movie for a long, long time.

On its own merit, the movie is excellent. I am so accustomed to seeing Whoopi Goldberg playing flashy or hyperactive roles, the innocence and humility of Celine that Whoopi plays to such perfection is a revelation.

But the movie pales in comparison to its source. I know that its not fair that I expect a book to be condensed into a two hour movie and stay true to it, but I can’t help it. This book is one of my favourite books, and I felt that the movie did not carry the essence of what the book was trying to say. A friend of mine with whom I watched the movie suggested that had a female director made the movie, it would have turned out different. I am not sure about that but I do think that the movie is a good story/cinematic treat but the lack of character development and emotional depth is very obvious.

I liked this movie but I wasn’t just blown away by it.

It’s strange that in my country, controversies are generated by the most insignificant things.

When “Water” was being shot in India, it was all over the papers because of the protests and rioting. I don’t even understand why. The movie brings out the pathos and suffering of the widows of pre-independent India with such precision, I am amazed. How could such a movie offend anyone? Perhaps those who are offended are those who still live in denial, who allow themselves to get offended by the truth of our past and those who appoint themselves the moral guardians of a religion the foundation and interpretation of which itself many question.

I couldn’t watch this movie in the theatres because I was interning at that time and I was reduced to listening about it from friends. There was a mixed reaction overall and I now understand why.

Spiderman 3 does not have the raw edge of its predecessors – there are too many story angles that are dealt with too superficially. The villains are too soft and there is a lot of unnecessary melodrama which takes away the edge off of what could have been a gritty superhero movie.

Not convincing and not nail biting enough.

Movie drags in the middle and beats logic when you see the dad chomping merrily and making conversation while his family is lost and being preyed upon out in the wild.

Lots of fire, stunts and some mumbo-jumbo about deals with the devil.

That’s about it.

A truly forgettable experience.