Twitter, the ever brimming cesspool of world events, constantly brings up one issue ailing Telugu cinema, the lack of proper film critics who stand against the waves of Telugu movies released each year with nothing remarkable to write home about. What ends up as film criticism is marketing, where the critic functions as another arm in the hype machine to pull precious eyeballs to the screen. As a critic's ability to survive in this cutthroat business depends on the acceptance of the power centralization in the Telugu Film Industry, there's never any dissent heard from them in any of the major issues that audience find in the movies. Instead, they ensure that the fans are never too rattled and thereby insulating themselves against further criticism and sustaining their career for another season.

The fact is, critics are the bottom-of-the-barrel scuds in the whole film tapestry, they're distillers of culture that other people have written, produced, directed and acted in, they are elevated filmgoers with a megaphone but apart from this they're indistinguishable from the rest of the audience. For people working within the film industry the critics are an necessary nuisance, no one knows if the critics can influence the Box Office future of a film but it's a chance that'd not be considered especially when the probability of a hit is so low.

A critic needn't SJW warrior through the politics of a movie but needs to have the spine to call out bad acting, writing and any other pet peeve technicality they might have a super focus in (and my working hypothesis is that the best critics turn out to be the best directors). But this is already too much to ask – check the number of times a Telugu film critic called out a major male lead for bad acting in the past years, even though these actors are typecast or sleepwalking through their roles, the critic needs to pay lip service to the fans or have their social media walls vandalized. This doesn't even consider the umpteen times that male actors have glorified sexual harassment, colourism and choosing to not pair with older actresses on screen.

In a society where politics and film converge, it's worth noting the similarities between attitudes towards political dissent and film criticism. Freedom of thought and speech relegate themselves to idealist visions and there's a top down enforcement of power. Can't say much about how that fares for politics but atleast in art, that doesn't bode too well for the long-term.

#criticism #cinema #Telugu

The opening scene of Beau is Afraid has been haunting me ever since I watched the movie. It's a scene that lingers, etching itself into my mind. Baby Beau, just born, emerges into a world of obscurity, surrounded by a nebulous red hue. Then, abruptly, he is dropped onto the floor, his mother's screams filling the air. This vivid imagery forces me to contemplate my own journey into existence. Perhaps, in that moment, I too was greeted by a disorienting swirl of colors, with that same nebulous red as my first glimpse of the world. It's a jarring and unsettling scene, one that places the world around me into a disconcerting context. From that point on, everything I perceive has evolved, blossoming from that enigmatic red. This notion echoes the wisdom found in Tibetan beliefs, where a flashing red light accompanies our journey towards death, drawing us inexorably towards it.

The online realm has been abuzz with reactions to Beau long before the film's official release, and opinions have been sharply divided. A viral audio recording even went so far as to predict that this movie would be a career-killer for its director, Ari Aster. Another point of contention was its lengthy runtime, which presented a personal challenge for me as someone who struggles with prolonged periods of sitting.

Yet, the true essence of Beau extends beyond its narrative material; it poses a profound examination of our relationship with media consumption itself. In an era dominated by rapid-fire video clips and fleeting soundbites, we find ourselves inundated with a relentless barrage of media throughout each passing week. We are bombarded by fleeting glimpses into the lives of countless individuals we will likely never encounter. Beau, however, demands that we break this pace, compelling us to engage in introspection and confront the inner workings of our own anxieties. The impact of this experience was so profound that I found myself momentarily disenchanted with movies after watching it. Slowly, however, the film began to grow on me, leading me to ponder the timeless question: “How many movies are simply too many movies?”

Within the landscape of film criticism, where speed is of the essence, there exists a challenging paradox. We are expected to swiftly deliver our verdicts while the movies are still fresh and relevant. Unfortunately, this leaves little room for a movie to settle within our minds and for our opinions to truly take root. At first glance, Beau may appear disconcerting, almost bordering on unwatchable. Yet, in retrospect, it demands our undivided attention, reaching far beyond its runtime. Although I have no intention of revisiting it, my admiration for Ari Aster has grown stronger than ever. This film redefines the very essence of the cinematic experience, provoking us to contemplate the very nature of our existence.

When all is said and done, amidst the vast array of movies, TV shows, and TikTok videos, what remains is that nagging voice within our minds, questioning the purpose and meaning behind it all. Beau engages in a profound dialogue with that inner voice, leaving an indelible mark. For this thought-provoking and even emotionally challenging experience, the movie is undoubtedly worth watching, even if it proves to be a traumatic journey.

#BeauisAfraid #criticism #film