I have no problem as such with astrology and don’t think it’s all bogus; in fact I enjoy listening to the good and bad things that will happen to others. But I’m just not very keen to have my own future told. When people wave copies of my horoscope excitedly at me and begin to mouth words, I have a standard response ready. “But I don’t want to know that I’m going to spend six years in a coma in my pomp, or have an extra-marital affair at age 84, or win a Nobel at 32,” I tell their gaping faces, “for without suspense, life is barren.”
This has nothing to do with anything, except that (minor spoiler alert) there are two separate scenes in Krrish where a character looks into a future-seeing machine and sees another character holding a gun to his head. This sets off a frenetic (since in each case the future is a mere 10 minutes away) chain of events where pointless attempts are made to prevent the inevitable. Much energy is expended in deputing henchmen when the person in question should just have resigned himself to his fate and spent the 10 minutes checking to see how many Grand Slam titles Roger Federer will end up with, or whether cockroaches really will survive the holocaust. But ideally, he shouldn’t have looked into the future-seeing machine in the first place. No good can come of these things. Interpreting the present is a tricky enough business for most of us.
– One of the common questions raised by superhero comics/films is how no one manages to figure out that (for instance) Clark Kent and Superman are the same person – especially since the only form of disguise is a pair of glasses, a nervous speech pattern and the ability to put on the inner garments before the outer ones. The women in these movies can be anything from intrepid reporters to upwardly mobile corporate types, all very smart within the confines of their profession – but when it comes to cracking the superhero’s identity, they don’t quite have all the cubes in the icebox. Priyanka Chopra nearly ruins the first half of Krrish with her shrillness and her misguided attempts at slapstick comedy, but it’s in the second half of the film that her character really outdoes herself. Such is the coruscating acumen of this girl that when young jungle boy Krishna (who she already knows is endowed with extraordinary powers) disappears and in his absence a leather-clad dude who looks exactly like Krishna (except for a mask covering his forehead) shows up, rescues children from a burning building and proclaims himself to be “Krrish”, her reaction is to furrow her brow and say:
“Mujhe shaque ho raha hai ke yeh Krrish apna Krishna hi hai.”
And later, when Krishna gets his friend Christian to pretend that he is the superhero:
Priyanka (slapping her forehead): "Main bhi itni paagal hoon. Maine socha hi nahin ke Krrish ka asli naam Krishna hi nahin, Christian bhi ho sakta hai."
Uh yes, or maybe he could have consulted with Rakesh Roshan’s team of numerologists and worked out a new superhero name that wasn’t at all similar to his own. I mean, how would fun come if Clark Kent called himself “Super-Clark” or Bruce Wayne “Batty Bruce”?
In short, Lois Lane 2, Priyanka 1.
– Hindi film sequels do tend to be bummers. In at least one that I can think of from the 1980s (Nigahen, the sequel to Nagina), we learn that the happy couple who frolicked around tree and lake in the first film ended up dying young and tragically soon after. Revisiting Koi Mil Gaya may no longer be so much fun once you know that the loveable idiot Rohit will eventually spend 20 crucial years of his life held captive in a suspension chamber. Tch.