‘Megacities’ Film Review: An eye-opening tour of the world’s greatest cities

by Jerry Guo on

Think you know New York or Moscow? That you’ve seen all the sights in Mexico City or even took a tour of the slums of Mumbai? Well, you haven’t seen anything until you watch Megacities by Michael Glawogger, one of my favorite documentaries. It’ll take you to places and people in these four megacities that you’ve never seen. Oh, and the cinematography!

“I don’t use beauty filters!” says Austrian filmmaker Michael Glawogger, concerning his 1998 documentary, Megacities. “If the place wouldn’t have beauty in itself, it’s not possible for me to make it look beautiful.” Through a mastery of cinema aesthetics-from color and composition to the mixing of the soundtrack and manipulation of the scene transitions-Glawogger infused the apocalyptic urban wastelands he saw, a world populated by blue-dyed men, knife-wielding hustlers, and sagging prostitutes in the nude, with an aura of the surreal.

This film reject standard documentary conventions, such as the use of voiceovers and a strict narrative arc; yet they ultimately offer, through their flipbook storytelling structure, a coherent narrative of a world in flux, buffeted by unseen forces of globalization.

Glawogger noticeably restages many scenes in Megacities, and while some shots were staged due to logistical reasons (for instance, hiring extras for a scene inside a train carriage since there were too many bystanders in the way), other shots were so fantastical in their intimacy that they require a conscious suspension of disbelief. Two particular scenes, both involving Tony the New York hustler, are particularly salient to the degree that they were staged.

The first involves Tony hustling a young 20-somethings man, whose eyes dart every which way in suspicion-but never in the direction of the camera. The target is led to believe that for $60, he can have an hour “to do anything you want” with a prostitute. The camera follows him up the stairs to the prostitute’s alleged room, where a gruff stranger (a man, no less) answers the door and promptly slams it in his face.

This scene stretches the imagination: why did the target never question the presence of the camera, or acknowledge it? Why didn’t he display any emotions after finding out he had been hustled, or direct his anger to the cameraman, for that matter? The cognitive dissonance resolves itself once the viewer realizes Glawogger hired the target, albeit without telling him the exact context of the gig. “So, to a degree, those people also didn’t know what was going to happen. And it almost looks like what it looked like when I saw him really do it,” explains Glawogger.

The second, more controversial scene, involves Tony once again hustling a man, this time someone slightly older and of Persian descent. The two go up to a room, where both Tony and the target completely undress. As they are about to have sex, Tony pulls out a box-cutter and mugs the man; in the process, he smacks him on the head in intimidation.

This scene pushes the limits of what one would consider a documentary (and one reason you should go watch the film). Granted, such intimacy is logistically impossible to film, as Glawogger elaborates, “If you’re in a small room and somebody robs some other preson or even if there’s a private conversation between a couple, that’s not, in that sense, ‘documentary’ filmmaking-that even though you’re there it will happen anyway.” Thus, the resulting image fulfills the voyeuristic urge of a viewer in a similar, but more corporeal manner than that of a fiction biopic of a New York hustler.

Although we witness Tony hustling his marks, in another sense, we see Glawogger hustling Tony. Here, Glawogger subverts the traditional role of the documentary filmmaker as one who assigns, rather than records, the dynamics of social actors within his gaze. Ironically, the most powerful scene from this story, and possibly the film, is unscripted: the sight of Tony, high on heroin and splayed out on a couch, ranting on about the realities of his life. Although his words are visceral, the very image of this hustler at his most vulnerable, with eyes drooping under the lull of a drug addiction and his bare chest drenched in sweat, says more about the human condition and his alienation in this urban jungle than any of the staged scenes. The section on Tony ends here as he drifts off, mid-speech, into a drug-laced stupor.

Part 2 tomorrow

Strike Shuts Down Bollywood

by Josh Lew on

Over 100,000 Indian TV and film workers went on strike in Mumbai today. They are protesting unfair wages and the prevalent practice of hiring non-union crew members. Some of the industry’s biggest stars, like Shah Rukh Khan, showed solidarity by agreeing to not cooperate with movie studios until the strike ends. Union members complain that studios and production companies have not honored an agreement which they signed nearly two years ago.

This is bad news for fans of the epic song-and-dance-filled melodramas. Most of the industry’s highly anticipated, big-budget productions were slated to hit theaters in the upcoming months. Now their releases are in doubt. Also on ice are the productions of insanely popular TV soap operas. The bottom line: if you are traveling to India and dreaming of taking part in a Bollywood film (like Sylvester Stallone) or are a connoisseur of Indian TV, hold your breath (or, rather, don’t). Surely theaters won’t be closing down or TV going off their air, but it’ll be reruns until the studios and unions make nice.

One Wall Street Journal reporter’s rickshaw ride through India

by Jerry Guo on

If you’re looking for a fresh take on the Grand-Tour-Through-India travelogue, one with a heavy dose of culture (and even danger!), check out Niraj Sheth’s blog on his roadtrip by rickshaw through southern India.

What makes this blog–running until the end of this week–stand out is Niraj’s unique perspective as a Wall Street Journal reporter and in his own words, as a ABCD: “American-born, confused desis [slang for Indian].”

His commentary about how the local Indians view him is especially sharp, and humorous in parts. For instance, one mechanic, and he seems to need many, jabbers to a friend in front of Niraj, who has spoken Hindi throughout his life, “It’s amazing he speaks Hindi so well.”

The multimedia here is also better than most–make sure not to miss the photo slide-show and intro video below.

Air India pilots doze off — jet wanders off through Indian airspace

by Grant Martin on

Think you’re the only one that’s tired after that redeye between New York and London? The pilots are too, and they actually have to fly the aircraft back in a couple of days. Good thing they get plenty of rest and drink a ton of coffee to stay alert in the cabin.

Or do they? Earlier this month, two pilots on an Air India flight bound for Mumbai fell asleep in the cockpit, completely missing the airport. They were halfway to Goa before air traffic control was able to wake them up. A source close to the incident is quoted as reporting that: “The aircraft should have begun its descent about 100 miles (160km) from Mumbai, but here it was still at cruising altitude. We checked for hijack.”

Your guess is as good as mine about how they check for a hijack.

After finally waking up the crew, the aircraft was turned around and pointed back to Mumbai, where the incident is now quietly trying to be brushed under the rug. A local bureaucrat downplayed the incident by suggesting that there was a communications error instead of napping going on in the cockpit. I suppose if you’re asleep and can’t talk, that’s a communication error, right?

Bollywood to nurture inter-country ties(?)

by Abha Malpani on

Fortunately or unfortunately, Bollywood is key in defining Indian culture. When I meet new people (who are not Indian, obviously), they always ask me if I watch Bollywood films and if I can dance like the actors can. Of course I can — I am Indian. Duh! I have even, on popular demand but to my own horror, given Bollywood dance classes in my home.

I have to admit though, that I started appreciating the Indian film industry more when I moved out of India and have been especially drawn to it since I moved to Spain. Its tremendous ability to bring me back home is the main reason as it inadvertently takes me back to my roots and reminds me of who I am. Yup, the power of Bollywood films.

Although the local public generally loves Bollywood in India, we (especially the “westernized” youth of India) often tend to ridicule it and it is not uncommon to be embarrassed by what it portrays about us and our country. Only a handful of Bollywood films are worth applause; others are mostly melodramatic and unrealistic to the point of being ludicrous.

So when I heard that a Bollywood film school is planned for the UK (later in Durban and Sydney) in an attempt to build strong ties between Britain and India, first it made no sense to me but after a bit of thought I realized that it’s a great way to get foreigners and Indians born abroad involved in a genre of film-making that opens doors deep into our culture.

The Mumbai-based Bollywood film industry is the largest in the world and all of a sudden I have newfound respect for it as it will play a key role in internationally sharing our culture as well as giving people an opportunity to delve right in and be part of the Bollywood bang.