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“Man created God in his own image,” said Ludwig Feuerbach, a German philosopher, in 1851. Come 2019, and “man has created demons in his own image” would be the perfect description for the Hindi-language science fiction film “Cargo”.

Originally premiering at the 2019 MAMI Film Festival, Cargo was released on Netflix only this month, not generating as wide a viewership as was probably expected but still creating enough interest. Written and directed by Arati Kadav, Cargo is one of the rare Indian cinemas based on future time and science fiction. And Kadav’s imagination reels in Hindu mythological demons to be a part of the film that is borderline dark comedy.

Prahastha (Vikrant Massey) is an astronaut abroad the spaceship named Pushpak 634A run by the Post Death Transition services. A 100-plus-year-old demon himself, Prahastha’s job is to recycle dead people and get them ready for rebirth. He has been living in the spaceship alone for 75 years, following the same daily routine, with the video call with Nitigya (Nandu Madhav) his only regular contact with the outside world.

As retirement approaches for Prahastha, he is given an assistant in the form of Yuvishka Shekhar  (Shweta Tripathi), a fellow demon and astronaut. How the two interact and what changes the younger demon brings to Prahastha’s life makes up the movie’s main plot, which has plenty of undercurrents of dark humor and satire on human life and society.

Evidently made on a low budget, and not very sci-fi friendly despite its literal out-of-the-world setting, Cargo is a film that tries to bank more on its writing and acting than exciting visuals. Nonetheless, Kaushal Shah’s cinematography is crafty and manages to capture scenes that are well suited for the genre. In line with the writing that makes use of comedy, irony and satire to substantiate a very simple, twist-less plot, the cinematography and direction create an interesting collage of ideas to form Cargo.

But despite noticeable performances form the behind-the-camera team Cargo fails to capitalize on the talent it features. For one, the use of the talented leads Vikrant Massey and Shweta Tripathi is underwhelming. These actors, although relatively new to the industry, have made a mark with meaningful roles in critically acclaimed movies. But in Cargo, there is nothing to compliment them on their acting. Also, guest appearances of gifted comedian Ritwik Bhowmik and the immensely experienced Konkona Sen Sharma, which could have been delightful additions, don’t make the movie any less mundane.

Not to take away the credit from the actors, it’s the film’s slow pace that takes away the luster from what could otherwise have been a compelling premise. While there have been feature-length films in the past with just a handful of cast and next to no outdoor shootings that nonetheless have entertained us for two whole hours or so, unfortunately, Cargo, even with all its witty dialogues, off-center setting and surrealistic approach, doesn’t hold its ground for its 1h 59mins runtime. In fact when Prahastha talks about uploading the memories of dead people (the cargo) onto digital drives, it feels like the movie would have fared well as an episode of the British dystopian science fiction anthology “Black Mirror” (2013-2017) that were between 40-90 minutes.

Also noticeably underwhelming is the film’s background score. In a movie that is otherworldly, dystopian or surreal, we expect the score to be as arousing as the visuals. We understand budget constraints, but the background music doesn’t even match the effort of the cinematographer and the director.

Who should watch it?

“Cargo” is one of those films that could become a cult classic. It does have its Kubrickian moments and the writing has enough material for sequels or spinoffs. But this particular movie does not sit very well with the larger masses solely in it for entertainment.

Cargo

Rating: 2 stars

Genre: Science-fiction

Actors: Vikrant Massey, Shweta Tripathi, Nandu Madhav

Director: Arati Kadav

Run time: 1hr 59mins

The bestselling author of ‘The Joy Luck Club’ and ‘The Valley of Amazement’, Amy Tan, recounts her turbulent relationship with her mother, Daisy Li, and revisits traumatic childhood memories—her mother’s mood swings and frequent breakdowns, the death of her older brother, Peter, followed by the death of her father—in her memoir ‘Where the Past Begins’.

I love Amy Tan. I feel she’s one of the finest writers we have today. Her prose is smooth and reading is thus effortless. Even though I might not have liked where a certain story was headed, I’ve always been in love with her writing. ‘The Kitchen God’s Wife’ and ‘The Bonesetter’s Daughter’ are two of my all-time favorite books. (Here, I must confess I have quite a long list of favorites.)

I always found myself wondering about Tan and her upbringing and conditioning while reading her books. What experiences enable her to write so extensively and imaginatively about women? How does she set a scene? And, most importantly, why does she feel the need to write? I was hoping I would find these answers when I came across her memoir. I wasn’t disappointed.

The book starts with a series of exchanges between Tan and her editor, Daniel Halpern, and moves on to her family’s immigrant story, with mentions of her half-sisters in China and her grandmother, before she takes up imagination and how she finally took the writer’s path. Though hers wasn’t a conventional career choice for a child of immigrants (her parents, who migrated to the United States from China, wanted her to be a neurosurgeon), she is glad she was able to fulfil her parent’s dream—she bought her mother her own house.

Besides insights about the writing process, Tan gives you glimpses into the life of a professional writer. You would be surprised to know that even for a successful author like Tan “each successive book is increasingly difficult to write”. She also writes about the inspiration for her characters and stories of The Joy Luck Club and The Valley of Amazement. These bits give you a deeper understanding of how a writer’s mind works and leave you inspired.

At the beginning of the book, Tan confesses she did not want to write a memoir but Halpern thought it would be a good idea. So he urged her to write non-fiction pieces on her creative process. They made a deal—Tan was to send him a minimum of 15 pages a week. Tan started digging through old photos and documents and this unleashed something in her. She began writing about her childhood experiences and of those recurring moments of self-doubt while working on a novel. The memoir is a compilation of the pages Tan sent to Halpern, which is why there are occasional glitches. But the writing is raw and candid and you can’t help fall in love with Tan once again.

Memoir

Where the Past Begins

Amy Tan

Published: 2017

Publisher: 4th Estate

Language: English

Pages: 357, Paperback

The Instagram account of House of Masaba, a clothing brand by fashion designer Masaba Gupta, bursts with bright colors and eclectic prints. I’ve always loved the clothes and find Masaba’s ideas and designs fascinating. Masaba, whose father is West Indies cricketing great Viv Richards, has had an intriguing life, growing up as a half-black girl with a single mom in India. She has been vocal about being bullied in school and applying makeup on the sly to change her skin tone—the butt of ridicule.

On the other hand, I grew up watching my mother watch Neena Gupta, Masaba’s mother, on television. More recently, some of her films have made me realize what a wonderful, albeit underrated, actor she is. She also frequently showcases clothes from Masaba’s label on her social media accounts. In her interviews, Masaba talks about her mother being a strong support and influence in her life.

Both the Gupta ladies are talented, fascinating, and inspiring. It’s no wonder Netflix decided to bring the two dynamic women together in a series, ‘Masaba Masaba’. Here, they play themselves in a fictionalized setting inspired by their lives, which provide enough fodder for good content.

The show touches on the duo’s personal journeys so far, from Masaba’s divorce and business struggles to Neena’s attempt to get good roles in the film industry. It also gives you an insight into Masaba’s work life. The best part is definitely Masaba’s equation with her mother. The mother-daughter scenes are much more enjoyable than when they have their individual stories going on. Masaba’s many ‘foot in the mouth’ moments, as well as exasperation with the world around her, are relatable, especially if you are someone who is always speaking your mind.

One of my favorite bits in the series is the song ‘Aunty Kisko Bole Be?’ Not only does it have a catchy tune and is brilliantly shot, the song also tries to portray the younger generation’s attitude towards older women.

Writer-director Sonam Nair has kept the story peppy and fresh. Nothing is over the top. Masaba, it turns out, takes after her mother and is a good actor. Masaba’s best friend in the series, Jia Irani, played by Rytasha Rathore, is endearing and reminds us of our best friend who is annoying, loving, and scary at the same time. Pooja Bedi, as Masaba’s life coach, makes you giggle with her silly antics, mostly revolving around her supposedly cheating husband. 

There are other celebrities like Kiaraa Advani, Farah Khan, Malavika Mohanan, Gajraj Rao, and Mithila Palkar, who appear as themselves in the series. Though all of them have brief roles, they all feel imperative to the story.

I highly recommend Masaba Masaba. It’s breezy and light but also with moments that will have you contemplate on your own life. And because it has just six half-hour episodes, you can actually binge watch, without the guilt of having spent so much time glued to the screen at the end of it.   

Who should watch it?

Fashion enthusiasts and fans of Neena Gupta will enjoy Masaba Masaba. Though the series is named after the daughter, it’s the mother who shines. The senior Gupta is such a natural actor. She can make a scene come alive by simply being in the frame.

‘Intimacy’ by Hanif Kureishi is one of my most favored novels. I have picked it up so many times, I have lost count—it’s my go-to book in-between reads. I have also read many of Kureishi’s short stories and I must confess I’m a little in love with his writing.

Kureishi mostly writes about love and marriage, or rather the unraveling of one. He is cynical about relationships and that’s evident in all his stories. That cynicism is what gives them that melancholic undertone that is trademark Kureishi.

I also like his characters because they feel very familiar—they are frustrated, angry, confused, and what they are capable of depends on their circumstances. Reading the stories, you realize your flaws are what make you human and unique. And you are grateful to Kureishi for that.

So, naturally, I was ecstatic when I came across an anthology, ‘Midnight all Day’, on a recent horde-for-another-lockdown visit to Ekta Books in Thapathali, Kathmandu.

Sadly, Midnight all Day didn’t live up to my expectations. I would still give it three out of five stars but I know, deep down, that’s because I’m biased towards Kureishi. I have been more brutal in my ratings for fewer reasons in the past.

The anthology has 10 stories. Except the final one, which I found weird but intriguing, all the other stories feel half-baked and forced. Many reminded me of the plot of Intimacy—they explore the psyche behind leaving your partner—but unlike in Intimacy, you simply can’t connect with the characters or relate to their circumstances.

In ‘Strangers When We Meet’, a young actor is supposed to go on a holiday with his older married mistress, Florence. But her husband decides to accompany her on the trip and ruins their plans. In ‘That Was Then, Nick’, a married writer, meets his former lover, Natasha, and goes back to her flat. He does this while his wife is away for the day and manages to get back home just in time to make dinner. In ‘Four Blue Chairs’, a man and a woman who left their partners for each other host their first dinner as a couple.

I had major problems with the narratives. I wouldn’t call myself a feminist but I was disappointed that Kureishi chose to write about men who have left their wives for younger women but none of the stories give the women’s side. Also, in one story, a man forces his way into his ex-wife’s house when she doesn’t lend him an umbrella. The woman, in return, punches him on the face and it’s almost like Kureishi is trying to imply that both their actions were justified.

Midnight all Day is definitely not Kureishi at his best.

Fiction/Short Stories

Midnight all Day

Hanif Kureishi

Published: 1999

Publisher: Faber and Faber Ltd

Language: English

Pages: 217, Paperback