Caché

My films are intended as polemical statements against the American ‘barrel down’ cinema and its dis-empowerment of the spectator. They are an appeal for a cinema of insistent questions instead of false (because too quick) answers, for clarifying distance in place of violating closeness, for provocation and dialogue instead of consumption and consensus.
– Michael Haneke
Watched [...]

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Another week

It was quite a rainy weekend, which just made me stay indoor most of the time. Though i couldn’t resist going out on Sunday evening. It did trickled a bit but then who can resist the last shivers of a receding winter.
Watched few movies :
American History X: Starts promisingly but then just flatters as [...]

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My God Died Young

Alone in my room, i wonder sometimes if these people can or should be answered. How does one explain the whole business of alienation in a short sentences; the sheer tearing pain of not being able to belong to the very place where one wants to send down roots.?This side of the twentieth century we [...]

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The Customer

He comes everyday. Same table, same corner , same order, same direction, same face and the same strangeness of it. He had been visiting our cafe for the past one and a half week. 15th of April was the day when he came for the first time. He’s always alone, always sitting on the same [...]

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The Devil’s Backbone

Ghost stories are never scary. They do have few moments of fright and horror but nothing more and rest all is violence, gore and loud screams. And most of it is the fear of the characters which some how movie makers feel that the viewer’s will feel too. yeah no doubt we humans have the [...]

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January and me

Blogging can be really boring when you don’t take time out of it.
Isn’t that same for every other thing we just don’t care about or can’t find time to care about. Anyhow, its not that i don’t like blogging or anthing but just that somehow i couldn’t blog this whole of Jan. Even the soliatry [...]

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The Parrot

Here’s a short story that was in Flaubert’s Parrot – Julian Barnes. It was found among some press cuttings that Flaubert collected over his life time.
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In Gerouville, near Arlon, there lived a man who owned a magnificent parrot. It was his sole love. As a young man, he had been the victim of an ill-starred [...]

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