Monday, February 8, 2010

SMS….or the death of friendship.

Five years ago, a childhood friend of mine, who had moved to Poona some years before, responded to a message I sent him by SMS. A pretty commonplace occurrence, you might say. But this one changed my world-view….or rather, opened my eyes to what we have become.

It was around 11.30 one night in February 2005; and I was relaxing with a drink in my den, which houses my little “home-theatre”. About to put-on a film, I thought how nice it would be had I a friend to watch it with. And wondered why people seemed so reluctant to take me up on my open invitation to come over whenever possible to my newly-renovated home.

Feeling wistful, and since it was a little late to telephone, I sent off this (admittedly somewhat maudlin!) message by SMS to a few friends, saying, “If you think of me sometimes, please call”.

I got three responses. The first was “wassup” from an ex-addict for whom I had “been there” after his return from rehab; the second from an actress, whom I had directed several times in play-readings, saying she was in Dubai and asking if I was ok….which I appreciated.

The third was from my friend in Poona. His SMS said: “Is it something important, urgent or necessary? If so, I shall call. Does it fit any of these criteria?”

He got the appropriate reply, in two, succinct, unprintable words….and responded long-windedly, which I read and ignored.

The next day he actually called, belligerent and self-righteous, asking, “What was all that about, at 11.30 last night?” To which I said, if he hadnt understood why I had sent the message in the first place, maybe he was unable to and shouldn’t bother too much about it.

We have met only once since then, briefly, while waiting to enter a theatre. We said hello….and moved on. I then began receiving a spate of SMS from him, extolling the virtues of friendship and how old friends were gold. I ultimately responded, saying it would help if they could talk instead of text! To which I received another LONG message, saying he would call when he could.

He didn’t.

A year or so later, I learnt he had been in hospital with a cardiac condition; and called him immediately. We promised we would keep in touch.

Taking a page from his book, I sent him the occasional SMS on matters of common interest….and finally called him, two nights ago. He was busy and said he would call later.

The next day I got an SMS saying it was nice to hear from me and he was sorry he couldn’t take my call; and he was free after 3 pm.

I asked myself what I should do. Should I call again at his convenience, because I felt like talking to him? Or should I, on a matter of principle, say to myself “why cant HE return my call” and leave it at that? The jury is still out....

It has now, sadly, become “acceptable” for people not to return calls unless it matters to them; so you have to call, repeatedly, if you need something from them. It isn’t good manners; one might even call it arrogant and callous….nevertheless, it has become “acceptable”. Never make a call, never take a call, never return a call….unless YOU need to.

But among friends? Is this the new norm? Is it now wrong to just pick-up the phone and call to say hello….and does this make one a needy nuisance?

Another friend, a lady of society who is well-known for her expertise on etiquette, said one should first send an SMS to the person before calling the mobile, asking if it was convenient for them to accept a call. I said I preferred calling a landline and leaving a message….even though they may never call back.

The question is: why so much effort to simply TALK? On the one hand, people are ever-ready to be “accessible” at all times, via all the gadgets at their disposal, so as not to miss-out on a single “opportunity”. On the other, there is great reluctance to make contact on a purely personal level. Why this dichotomy, this insecurity, this inability to be human? Nobody can be THAT busy!!

My Poona friend is really, actually, a nice guy. Like him, I know many who are basically decent people but are stricken with the same modern malaise.

SMS, e-mail and now Facebook, Twitter and others of their ilk allow contact with a buffer; a safety-net that helps keep vulnerabilities, smoke-screens and egos intact.

But friendship? That’s another story.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Of respect and restoration.

One of the happiest by-products of the overwhelming popularity of DVDs is the current abundance of “restored” films. This by itself is a logical progression of nostalgia for days gone by, for the art and artistry of those times; and the innocence they recall.

The first examples of such nostalgia were undoubtedly books --- large, luxuriously-produced tomes that made coffee-tables groan while eyes feasted on the “romance” of the images portrayed.

Then there was digital-audio and the Compact Disc; and large collections released of favourite artistes from the past. Each “anniversary” of these talents (and recordings) brought with it yet another re-mastered edition, using the very latest technology, which was said to be the non plus ultra in purity and faithfulness to the original performance etc….but sometimes offered negligible improvement; or opened the window too wide, over-exposing the blemishes; or (at worst) souped-up the original to make it “sound good”.

And then came DVD. It was now possible to enjoy digitally-recorded movies in the living-room; with a quality of image and sound hitherto experienced only in the cinema. And the major Hollywood and European studios responded by bringing out more and more titles in the new medium, lovingly restored and with extensive “extras” like interviews, commentaries, deleted scenes and such. Music companies too followed suit, releasing video recordings and broadcasts of their artistes in a treasure-trove of concerts, music-videos, opera and ballet.

In India, musicians have been well-served on CD. But it is in the realm of cinema on DVD that we have failed….miserably. Let me give you three examples of iconic films from three different genres:

“Sholay” was initially released on DVD in a version copied from the VHS master, with a widescreen image embedded in a standard TV-size frame; and dreadful sound. And with the distributor’s name plastered in a huge lurid logo, constantly on view. Its second avatar was scarcely better, restoring the film’s original ending but with its vivid colours blanched and the 6-track stereo reduced to pseudo Dolby Digital, with a MONO track blaring from all 5 channels!

A classic from another time was also short-changed….literally. “Sahib, Bibi aur Ghulam” was initially released here on DVD with about 10 to 15 crucial minutes missing. On obtaining another (complete) copy from the USA, I found the film’s sound to be recorded out-of-phase, with dialogue emanating from the REAR instead of front speakers! And in the first couple of reels, barely intelligible. This abomination was surely the work of an NRI.

Finally, that elegiac tribute to a bygone culture and the artistry of Meena Kumari --- “Pakeezah”. Lavishly packaged in a “special edition” which promises much, we find instead a copy from a scratchy negative, with the distributor’s watermark floating on the screen, and a gentle, headache-inducing “shake” throughout the film. Pakeezah with Parkinson’s? How pathetic. And infuriating.

Compare any of the above to the care and attention given to “Ben Hur” in a magnificent restoration on DVD, which makes the film look (and sound) like it were made yesterday. With an extra disc filled with documentaries and other incidentals; AND another containing the earlier silent version, for comparison.

Or any of the classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, each released in special anniversary editions, preserving the visual and sonic “glow” of the originals.

Or the invaluable contribution of The Criterion Collection, showcasing the masterpieces of Bergman, Fellini and Kurosawa (among others) in faithful, technically-perfect presentations.

Which brings me to say that restoration is driven by respect. Not money, of which more can be made in the mass-market. And certainly not by cutting corners, which we in this country are so adept at!

Respect for an artiste’s work, respect for cultural heritage and, above all, respect for art itself is the bedrock on which restoration is based. For it is a labour of love; painstaking, perfectionist and, ultimately, joyful.

Film-people in the West have realised this. Isnt it time we honour our own?

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Welcome!

My name is Jiten Merchant….and I am new to this.

Not new to writing, as I used to be drama critic for the Times of India (Bombay) for eight years; and thereafter continued contributing to the paper and elsewhere, as a freelancer.

The theatre (or theater) is only one of my passions; music is another. And all the others are somehow linked to the two --- like opera, musicals, films and the audio/video equipment needed to enjoy them in the home.

Exceptions would be my love of fine-dining and luxury travel --- and though I can appreciate the pleasures of a simple Masala Dosa, I would NEVER tolerate a bad hotel!

Coming from a business family-background but not actively involved in it, I have been fortunate enough to be able to indulge my interests (within reason!) and live the life of a “gentleman-at-large”. During the course of which, I have learned a lot, made my mistakes; and picked-up a few memorable experiences along the way.

A friend, who blogs here as “kolclutter” suggested I should share all of this. Which seemed like a fine idea since I firmly believe no man can live in a vacuum. Though, unfortunately, that has become the norm these days, with almost all personal contact being dictated by agenda. Which is so sad, since the joy of sharing can be attained by something as simple and casual as “shooting the breeze”.

However, that will be the topic for another post. For now, let me welcome you to “my world” and hope this is the start of a beautiful relationship!