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Misplaced priorities
In the youth of this nation (and indeed any nation), multinational corporations find ready, willing and able soldiers to gobble up their products en masse. Profiteering from this segment of society is a given, but these giant conglomerates sometimes also tend to ‘give back to the community’ in the form of investing in people or infrastructure. This can actually be a positive thing, if no strings are attached (which is often not the case), as our authorities seldom think of investing in anything people-related.
Keeping this rose-tinged vision in mind, one shuffled off to a distant quadrant of the Korangi industrial area to a certain Studio 146 to witness the launch of the Thund tele-films project. One has to say, after the treacherous ride, arriving at the snazzy studio was a welcome relief, for the surrounding smells, sights and sounds — stinking factory effluents, landscape reminiscent of Bantu bushland and howling mongrels in the distance — didn’t quite present a welcoming picture.
The acting was wooden for the most part. One understands that the actors were amateurs and one didn’t expect Brando or Olivier. But that doesn’t mean one expected Mr Roboto either
The shindig started off with a recitation from the Holy Quran. Now usually I’m all for things spiritual, but I feel that we should avoiding using the holy book as a token gesture at such events. The announcement of tilawat sent most female members of the audience scurrying for their dupattas, while those who have long disposed of this troublesome piece of cloth had nothing to worry about. In future, we should avoid infringing on the sanctity of God’s Word and simply start with a Bismillah.
Apparently, the company had organized a nationwide contest to select actors, singers and script-writers for its tele-films project, and this event was where the winners of the contest were being recognized. The first and most time-consuming segment of the show consisted of various bands lip-synching to supposedly original songs. I, never being one to discourage anyone, just feel that there must have been something seriously flawed in the selection process because the majority of the winning bands that performed that night were horribly mediocre.
Azal was the first band to take the stage. The only positive thing about them and indeed the entire bands’ segment was the vocalist, Maryam. This female has it and if given the right direction and production, might go places. Think a local version of Alanis Morisette crossed with the Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordon. Then followed what sounded like the Allan Faqir band. Who? It was pretty difficult to hear over the din and bad sound system. The only thing was, the great Faqir has been dead for many years now. Someone said the lead vocalist was Allan’s son, but from the band’s get-up, they looked more Defence than Bhit Shah. Proclaiming to make ‘real’ Sufi music, it was crystal-clear the lead guitarist had a major Salman Ahmed fix.
Jehanzeib (not Ahmed) followed, a local variety of the species Michael Bolton. And so followed one banal performance after another leading one to ask oneself: what was the jury thinking?
After much wastage of time with lengthy interviews with the production and corporate people concerned (they could have been short, sharp sound-bytes), it was finally time for the premiere of Dil ki Baatein, a tele-film starring mostly amateurs, directed by Yasir Nawaz Baloch and produced by Sultana Siddiqui.
The acting was wooden for the most part. One understands that the actors were amateurs and one didn’t expect Brando or Olivier. But come on...that doesn’t mean one expected Mr Roboto either. The theme was a usual one: love-struck teens stuck between following their hearts or obeying their parents.
Though it was interesting to see that the romantic lead was given a disability (he stutters), the use of German industrial band Rammstein’s music in the first few scenes didn’t quite make sense. Plus, there was way, way too much product placement in the film. At times, it looked like a 45-minute ad (which it basically is) for the product, rather then a true tele-film. The product could have been inserted more subtly, one or twice. It shouldn’t have been omnipresent. Happy. Drink you-know-what. Sad? Grab a green, cold one. Suicidal? Grab a bottle and watch your problems melt away.
Corporate initiatives to foster creativity in the youth can bear fruit. A living examples is the Battle of the Bands programme, which gave us Aaroh and EP. Never mind that there was plenty of bad blood between the bands and the cola people later on. At least the show brought to the fore some real talent. If more emphasis is put on unearthing genuine talent and less product placement, which is plain unaesthetic, then this tele-film project, organized by Sprite, has potential.
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