Good, bad and IFFI

People who arrive at the new Goa airport in the late evening wait for at least an hour to find cabs. Towards the end of the year, tourists from across the world flock to this sunny coastal state with a reputation for hard partying. This is also the season for the International Film Festival of India (IFFI).

Manohar is perhaps the only airport in India where you are not mobbed by eager taxi drivers. And an old problem persists. Ride-hailing services like Uber and Ola are not allowed in Goa. The government-run app Goa Miles is chancy. With autos being scarce as well, tourists who drive and ride bet on hired vehicles, especially scooters, to get around.

The Manohar airport was inaugurated last December by Prime Minister Modi. So Goa now has two airports, the older one being in Dabolim. The new airport in Mopa is named after Manohar Parikkar, who served as defence minister and Goa chief minister. Its architecture provides a refreshing break from the dreary style you see in many airports. But it still looks like early days at the airport. Once you step out, there is little by way of food and drink. A tiny stall sells confectionery, and that’s it. Work is in progress, and you run into barricaded areas with cheerful signage. A board says, ‘Planes shows a lot of “altitude” when it comes to flying.’ Sure. And you need a copy editor.

19th year in Goa

The curtains came down on the International Film Festival of India on Tuesday. Founded in 1952, it is in its 54th edition, and films from 78 countries were screened this time. Goa has hosted the festival since 2004. That makes it 19 years in a row. Panaji is prepared for the annual pilgrimage of film buffs. The officials come from the northern states, and the delegates are predominantly from the south. Kerala and West Bengal, with their film club culture, are represented generously. Tamil Nadu and Karnataka are represented too, in that order. Many film buffs are regulars — they make this annual pilgrimage to catch a curated selection of world cinema. This time, one heard murmurs that the quality of international films wasn’t great. Is that a regular grouse or was it particularly bad this year?

Google project

The masterclasses were held at Kala Academy, a modern auditorium overlooking the sea, and a five-minute walk from the main venue. Google, sponsoring the sessions, used the opportunity to launch a project on Hindi cinema under its Arts and Culture section. It has collaborated with 21 institutions from India and abroad to put together this collection. “Hindi cinema isn’t just a reflection of life. For many, it is life itself,” says its promo film.

What Google has put together is an online exhibition, featuring pictures, videos, songs and posters. Shabana Azmi, featured in the promo, says, “Hindi film songs are not just songs, they are little philosophies.” Interesting project, and it would be great to see similar galleries for the other cinemas of India.

Bad man lines

The Kala Academy has 1,034 seats, and it got the biggest audience for the session featuring the villains of Hindi cinema. It was an entertaining session, with Ranjeet, Raza Murad, Gulshan Grover and Kiran Kumar telling their stories with swagger and humour. Ranjeet joked that the times had changed, and the new heroines wore no dupattas and saris that villains like him could tug at. Gulshan Grover said both heroes and villains in Mumbai were upset that he had bagged a role opposite the Hollywood star Salma Hayek. His envious mentor, the late Rishi Kapoor, said, “What bad days have befallen her!”

The organisers had saved some of the juicier bits for the last couple of days to motivate delegates to stay till the end of the eight-day festival. Rani Mukherji, Vidya Balan and Michael Douglas were among those who spoke at Kala Academy as the festival wound down. Rani regaled the crowd with her ready wit, and allusive banter. She used lines from popular songs when a reporter asked her if her deep voice had been a disadvantage — ‘Baby ko bass pasand hai’ (Baby loves bass) and ‘Meri awaaz hi pehchaan hai’ (My voice is my identity).

The Q&A sessions were lively. Vidya Balan spoke admiringly of Silk Smitha and how a tribute film she had done had changed her perception of her own body. A little after Vidya said she loved the camera, a delegate took up the mic and remarked that Indian celebrities, unlike their Western counterparts, never interacted with film buffs once they got off the stage. His wry observation: they love the camera, and not their fans.

Douglas was candid in his masterclass, even as the host Shailendra Singh overlooked the billed theme — ‘Is it time for a world cinema?’ — and shot cringy personal questions at him. He left no time for an audience Q&A either. Douglas said he had been initially terrified of acting, and he was also told he couldn’t lie to the camera, but he had been able to overcome his fright when he realised that acting was all about ‘lying’, about being someone he wasn’t in real life. The session ended with the host asking Douglas to dance to ‘Naatu naatu’. The 79-year-old star grooved.

Gingerly.