This morning, I caught the last half of the film Sarkar, Bollywood’s version of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1972 hit The Godfather. All of the elements are present: an above-the-law boss to whom people appeal for justice; a good son, a bad son; a conspiracy of local criminals to whom the Godfather (or Sarkar) poses a financial threat. The Vito/Michael cognates are Subhash Nagre and Shankar Nagre, played by real life father-and-son actors Amitabh Bachchan and Abhishek Bachchan. That’s Amitabh to the right. I wonder if they were chosen for their resemblance to Michael Corleone’s actor, Al Pachino?
It’s a fun movie, what I saw of it, delightful for its similarities as well as its culture clash differences. For example: remember the scene in The Godfather where Michael has to scramble to protect his father in the hospital? The Don has survived one attempt on his life, and Michael realizes that killers are coming to finish the same job. Imagine that same scene with background music chanting, “JESUS, JESUS, JESUS,” and you’ll have some idea of the surprises in store for you from the Bollywood production. There’s a similar moment during the settling-scores ending montage; in The Godfather, this is accompanied by organ music (Michael is serving as godfather at his nephew’s christening), while in Sarkar, someone sings, “Such injustice, how could anyone tolerate it?” . . . just in case the audience begins to lose sympathy for Shankar, thanks to his new appreciation for violence.
Of course, the point of The Godfather was Michael’s tragic fall from grace. We may understand his crimes, but we’re not supposed to excuse them. In Sarkar, Shankar/Michael becomes an instrument of righteous vengeance rather than a good man gone bad.
Out of curiosity, I searched the tubes for other knock-offs of The Godfather. Surprisingly, Sarkar is it. There have been numerous nods to The Godfather, including The Freshman, Shark Tale, and even Rugrats in Paris, and Bollywood is preparing a comedic version, but other close cousins are lacking.
The other odd thing is that it took so long for another country to crib from Coppola. Thirty-two years passed between the releases of The Godfather and Sarkar. In contrast, it only took Turkey five years to produce the execrable Dünyayi Kurtaran Adam, their version of Star Wars. (IMDB, however, points out, “Two space cadets crash-land on a desert planet, where an evil wizard seeks the ultimate power to take over the world. Although the movie borrows some background footage from Star Wars, the plot is mostly unrelated.”)
Not particularly apropos of this discussion . . . but I found a video that gave me a lot of laughs this morning. Triumph the Insult Comic Dog visits the line of fans waiting to see Clone Wars. Almost good enough to make me watch Conan.
D.
The scary thing is, my son claims this makes sense in context.
Good lord, now I’m hungry for wolf kebab.
D.
but I found it here:
If they had Facebook in Star Wars.
Chortle . . .
D.
I had my third and final “University” meeting in Pasadena today — the Kize’s attempt to indoctrinate us inculcate the corporate values in its new employees. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’m thoroughly indoctrinated inculcated. But I think they need some work getting their message straight. All well and good to lecture us for 30 minutes on the merits of exercise, how important it is to “live the Thrive message” and set a good example for our patients . . . but then they serve us cookies and quiche cups and coconut shrimp and egg rolls?
Don’t get me wrong — the food rawked. I ate my fill. And now I’m way too bloated to participate in the Kize’s triathlon.
D.
My mother said to me, apropos of nothing (which is how she said most things, I’m afraid), “Your father really cares about me.” I heard a note of genuine surprise when she described how my dad had visited her in the hospital every day and had stayed with her for hours.
They’ve been married over sixty years, and she’s surprised he cares about her.
Was my father surprised at his own anxiety (which I suspect he’d now deny) when my mother was in the hospital? But it was there in his voice. Are they just now coming to appreciate one another?
Or perhaps this is all ignorance or presumptuousness on my part. Perhaps I’ve had blinders on because all I’ve ever seen of them is the bickering (which in my family involves screaming invectives at the top of one’s lungs). If I had to pick words to describe their interactions over the years, respect and sympathy and concern wouldn’t be near the top of my list. But have I been missing something all this time?
And then there’s my mother’s lack of bile, to put it mildly. This trip, she was pleasant. Really pleasant. Which isn’t like her. Is this part and parcel of her recent problems?
Does it take a certain level of mental faculty to harbor spite, resentment, animosity?
Needless to say, we find this all very concerning.
D.
PS: We’re trying to figure out what our turtles were doing in Chinatown. Supposedly, they were rescued from Chinatown. Were they being sold as pets, or proto-appetizers?
We left Vegas at 10:10 AM, pulled into Bako at 5:40 PM. ‘Nuff said, but . . . re: driving to Vegas on holiday weekends? Never again. Next time, we fly. Better yet, we figure out how to visit the folks on non-holiday weekends.
How did you spend your holiday weekend? Hollywood icon Kirk Douglas, now 92 years young, spent it with his wife serving dinner to the homeless of Los Angeles. Story and picture here. All the best to the both of them.
More to come, but not tonight. I’m wiped.
D.
We made it out of Bako by 9:15 and got to Barstow by 11:30. Seemed like we were making good time, but then we hit parking lot traffic on I-15 North just out of Barstow. About 45 minutes later, we passed the accident site. The tow truck was just then pulling around, towing away the wreck, and the cops were heading back to LA.
After that, we made good time, but it still took about 5.5 hours to get to my parents’ house. For Thanksgiving Day Dinner, they did the smart thing and bought precooked turkey breast and ham. Still way too much food, but isn’t that a Thanksgiving tradition? I mean, did we really need two turkey breasts, a ham, two pumpkin pies, and an apple pie? And my mother was pissed that my dad opted not to make the stuffing.
She seems fully recovered from what I can tell. She’s using her walker more, which is a good thing, and she’s talking to herself as much as ever. She has this way of starting one sentence and finishing another, but that’s nothing new.
Tomorrow we’re going to a mall, I expect. And then we have to convince my parents not to have dinner at a buffet.
How about y’all? Good turkey?
D.
Best. Concert. Ever. by Jonathan Coulton.
Here’s his version of Baby Got Back . . .
And here’s another great song from Best. Concert. Ever.: Kenesaw Mountain Landis, first baseball commissioner and mean mother — well, you’ll find out.
D.