IFFM 2018 Day 2: Bollywood Dance Competition

One of the day's many brilliant competitors.

Clearly the fix was in.

Forecasters called for a brutal winter's day in Melbourne yesterday but only light, intermittent rain fell on Melbourne during the Indian Film Festival of Melbourne's outdoor events in Federation Square. Call it luck, call it poor forecasting -- I'll go with the sheer force of Mitu Bhowmick Lange's will, who oversaw the proceedings as usual, and who was safely inside adjacent Deakin Edge theatre later in the day when skies turned surly and rain bucketed down. I pity the rain that threatens Mitu's carefully planned festival.

This year's Bollywood Dance Competition took place on a different stage than previous competitions, but the mood was typically joyous as competitors strut their stuff.

Earlier in the day, Indian acting icon Rani Mukherjee raised India's flag a few days before India's Independence Day.

There are many familiar faces at each year's festival, but few are as ready for their movie-star closeup as Puneet Gulati's.

On the subject of familiar festival faces/movie stars: Multi-talented Bollywood fixture Malaika Arora Khan once again brought her glamour to the Bollywood Dance Competition. I genuinely don't know if I could remember dance moves with a gaze like hers looking up at me. Fellow judge and Bollywood bigwig Nikkhil Advani is beside her

Photographer/model/actual beauty pageant winner Lucia Hou once again captured the action at Federation Square in an outfit befitting motorcycle royalty.

Mitu chats with judge Avtar Panesar, a VP at Yash Raj Films and an early advocate of bringing Bollywood to Australia.

A sublime soul punch: Tabrez Noorani's 'Love Sonia' opens IFFM 2018

An IFFM opening night tradition was continued by Freida Pinto, Richa Chadda, Mrunal Thakur and Tabrez Noorani

Up late writing the following reaction to Tabrez Noorani's 'Love Sonia', which opened the 2018 Indian Film Festival of Melbourne last night with a soul punch. Just as I knew would happen, I awoke with it still vibrating my brain like fireworks behind my eyelids. A simply phenomenal -- and shockingly NECESSARY -- masterwork by all involved. A full day of panel discussions awaits today so I'll keep this post short. First, what I posted to Instagram from a rented room in Elwood in the early morning hours:

It would be easy to focus solely on the physical effects wrought by #IFFM2018 festival opener #LoveSonia: visceral rage, a galloping pulse long after house lights reveal tear-reddened eyes, an acidic longing for justice in a hellscape of wickedness and perversion. Twenty minutes into this film my nerves were shot ... and that was only the preamble. Director and story creator Tabrez Noorani’s approach is unrelenting, sometimes traumatic, as haunting as the obliteration of innocence in a young girl’s eyes. These effects are real, but they do not matter. No, what MATTERS, and what arms this hypnotically horrifying film with a righteous hammer, is that it connects moviegoers to the plight of sex trafficking victims around the world like live wires on exposed flesh — the resultant shock and public awakening could (and mother-of-all-things-holy SHOULD) save lives. Every facet of this film — acting, writing, directing, the works — is a pinnacle of an art form too often vapid and shameless. However difficult ‘Love Sonia’ may be to sell to a pap-addicted public, it left me in furious awe of director @tabreznoorani and the almost mystical performances of its cast. That @mitulange and @iffmelbourne allowed audiences in two packed cinemas to interact with its stars @therichachadha, @freidapinto and staggering newcomer @mrunalofficial2016 is why I flew from NZ to attend IFFM. Thank you Mitu, and thanks to all responsible for ‘Love Sonia’.

Mrunal Thakur, Tabrez Noorani, Freida Pinto and Richa Chadda introduce a film that several said barely scratches the surface of sex trafficking. 

After fielding questions from both of the cinemas that screened 'Love Sonia' last night, Freida Pinto remains radiant as she leaves.

Bollywood heartthrob Vicky Kaushal escorts Richa Chadda from the cinema.

After praising director Tabrez Noorani's film as 'the most disturbing film I have ever seen', world-renowned director Rajkumar Hirani walks out with a beaming Noorani. 

Mrunal Thakur. As Freida Pinto said while introducing the film, she's the next big thing -- for all the right reasons. 

A brush with Shah Rukh Khan's 'Fan' phenomenon.

My ticket into the SRK fan universe.

In a few hours I'll be in a cinema packed with fans of Shah Rukh Khan when his latest -- a Yash Raj Films production called Fan -- premieres here in Melbourne and around the world. It comes a week after a dozen or so local media reps and movie writers converged in a CBD conference room for a video press conference with the man himself courtesy of Mind Blowing Films (MBF) and its fearless leader Mitu Bhowmick Lange. I've attended many such PR events in my career but this was the first to leave me walking along a sidewalk afterwards thinking it's a shame that so many with access to our most brilliant actors, musicians, artists, athletes -- dare I say writers -- are too often jaded to surrender to the simple satisfactions of full-on, no-apologies, slap-a-naysayer-in-the-face fandom.

I don't mean 11-year-old girls screaming at boy bands manufactured to the specifications of breakfast cereal, or boozy thugs hurling abuse at multi-millionaire sportsmen, or zombies queuing up for the latest perfume/watch/sneaker/hair product branded with the name of a reality TV personality.

No. I mean experiencing, even for the fleetest of moments, the company of someone whose work has taken root in your life and become a fixture, a constant, a necessity: You can't imagine life without it.

So there I sat last Friday afternoon, riding a train into Melbourne's CBD and a semi-private audience with Shah Rukh Khan. (That sentence will rattle the bones of 99.9% of Indians reading this and do nothing for 99.9% of everyone else.) I'd received an email with the subject line 'Invitation to chat with SRK' the day before. If it hadn't come from MBF's Divya Thaper I'd have written it off as unusually well-targeted spam. But ... no. It was legit. MBF had sprinkled Tweets and Facebook posts about Fan for weeks but there'd been no hint of an opportunity to speak with a man known as 'King Khan' to Indians and, more pertinent to the last 12 years of my life, 'God Incarnate' to my wife, Aradhna.

There's no way to recount this tale without mentioning my wife's, ahem, 'fondness' for SRK. Like many Indians born in the 1970s she grew up watching the Delhi native evolve from villian in thrillers like Darr (1993) and Baazigar (1993) to household name in a romance classic called Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995) that's literally the Star Wars of Indian cinema: It tattooed a generation of cinema goers and redefined the term ' Bollywood blockbuster'. DDLJ paired SRK for the first time with an actress named Kajol; they've done several films together since and are arguably Bollywood's favourite on-screen couple of all time. (In real life SRK's been a faithful husband for 25 years to Gauri Khan. They jointly run a production company called Red Chillies Entertainment while raising three kids.)

SRK & Kajol in DDLJ.

I first heard the name Shah Rukh Khan on the second or third date with Aradhna. It was autumn in NYC, 2004. Though unfamiliar with his work I quickly grasped his influence not only on Aradhna but on other young Indian women raised by insanely protective parents. SRK's romantic heroes weren't just handsome and suave -- they were dedicated and honest and ferociously committed to love. SRK's passion was molten. Heroes of Hollywood rom-coms were cardboard cutouts beside a man who'd sacrifice everything, be left broken and bloodied, for the hand of his beloved.

This was the man who looked down from my wife's bedroom walls when she was young. I quickly caught up with SRK's filmography and have been an astute fan of Indian cinema since. We watched our first Bollywood film together in a loft I rented in Manhattan before she returned to Australia in late 2004. It was DDLJ. Watching it was like gazing at a crystal ball into her heart. The music to an SRK blockbuster released in November 2004 called Veer-Zaara became the soundtrack to our whirlwind NYC romance. The first film I ever saw in an Australian cinema was 2006's Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna. Aradhna and I have watched the glorious Om Shanti Om (2007) a half-dozen times together.

These and other SRK-related thoughts swirled in cool autumn air as I walked up Collins Street a week ago. MBF and Mitu have provided the opportunity to meet many of Hindi cinemas biggest names -- none larger than Amitabh Bachchan, whose hand I shook two years ago in another scenario that hundreds of millions of Indians would have killed to experience -- but this was different. Like Springsteen to me, this was a man my wife got hooked into at a young age and whose career trajectory defined mileposts in her life.

To the 14th floor of a 110 Collins Street I rode. Mitu gave me a welcoming hug and the waiting began. I caught up with her and chatted with a Malaysian man named Steve whose Bollywood knowledge and Elvis Presley looks were equally beguiling. Two hours later the conference room was full and we were informed SRK had just left his Mumbai residence and was en route to whatever secret location he'd be speaking to us from.

Mitu did her best to engage the room while we waited for an empty chair in Mumbai to be filled by one of the most famous men in the world. No one spoke. Fan movie posters ringing the far wall reminded us of the subject at hand but the electrical activity of a dozen brains supercharged in anticipation of Shah Rukh Khan speaking with us made every molecule pause. Heady anticipation filled the windowless room: Twenty-five years of hits, flops, lust, laughs, songs, dialogues, heroines, Bollywood intrigue. rivalries, gossip, on-set injuries, TV shows, concerts, Filmfare awards, cricket teams, endorsements ... the enormity of a life lived at centre stage in a country where celebrity worship is a competitive sport and access to those celebrities a never-ending, high-stakes pursuit.

A flurry of activity in Mumbai signaled SRK's arrival and he soon appeared in a leather jacket and perfect hair on our video monitor. Molecules regained their crackle, Mitu greeted the man she'd worked with during the shooting of Chak De India in 2007 and, without warning, I began speaking with Shah Rukh Khan.

King Khan fields a question.

Mitu's introduction was a blur, mimicking the time she'd introduced me to Amitabh Bachchan while my brain watched from the ceiling as the great man shook my hand and I coughed up sounds devoid of cohesion or substance. The lack of physical proximity made this encounter less paralysing, however, even as cameras atop the monitor wheeled around to focus on me. I was determined to ask about Fan but curiously found myself sharing this self-denigrating anecdote: Mr Khan and I are both 50. He was born 19 days before me in November 1965 and is a spectacular physical specimen. I, meanwhile, look like the 'before' photo to SRK's 'after' in a weight-loss ad, a discrepancy my wife has been known to point out. My 19-days-older quip got a laugh out of Khan but I quickly moved onto a question about the unique challenges of playing both the pursued and pursuer in Fan.

What followed was a masterclass in human connection. Of course he's an actor and a man accustomed to fielding questions under more trying circumstances. But I was born and raised in the great state of New Jersey and have been bombarded with bullshit all my life. Shah Rukh Khan is no bullshitter. His answers and banter weren't forced, condescending or rehearsed. He addressed everyone by name, putting a roomful of strangers at ease. Very quickly this gathering felt more like after-work drinks than a press conference separated by nearly 10,000 kms.

It was remarkable.

Maybe it was the lack of pressure that freed SRK to respond so genuinely -- Australian box office numbers aren't exactly make or break for an Indian release -- or maybe it was the ease of someone who's earned a fortune in front of the camera. Whatever it was it was unexpected and a genuine pleasure to witness.

On the subject of surprises: About halfway through the press conference SRK was speaking about the facial prosthetics he wore to portray Gaurav, a 20-something man bearing a striking likeness to the actor (Aryan) he's obsessed with in Fan. According to Khan, the jaw is identical to the one worn by Brad Pitt in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (both films shared the talents of Oscar-winning makeup artist Greg Cannom). Out of the blue, while referencing a conversation about his look for the film, SRK remarked that he "... didn't want to look like Joe at 50."

Holy shit, I thought to myself. Freakin' Shah Rukh Khan is busting my chops.

Soon everyone had asked their questions and Mitu praised SRK for making himself available for this Q&A and for the excessive kindness he'd shown MBF crew when filming in Australia in 2007. An hour before I may have regarded such praise with suspicion -- Hollywood is rife with self-serving phonies who owe every iota of community goodwill to personal assistants, PR firms and 24/7 lawyers.

No. On this occasion I was glad to have walked into that conference room a fan of Shah Rukh Khan's 25-year career because when I walked out, I was a fan of the living, breathing, chops-busting man himself.

Normally that's where this post would end (I'll reveal more of SRK's press conference bon mots after seeing Fan tonight). But this brush with Khan lasted throughout the weekend and, like the tiniest sliver of a scorching chili pepper on the tongue, left an indelible impression of the enormity of his fandom.

I posted two press conference-related tweets on Saturday. This in the morning ...

... and this in the afternoon.

With Aradhna in Sydney for the weekend a friend named Jamie came by my place Saturday afternoon. We met friends Mary and Piera for dinner before venturing to the Elsternwick Hotel to see Dave Wright and the Midnight Electric play an 11:00 gig. An ambitious but hardly risky evening for a geezer like myself. As Jamie and I had pre-dinner drinks at a local RSL, however, the night ventured into the unknown.

My Twitter feed was blowing up.

During Springsteen's 2013-14 tours I'd generated mild Twitter activity when my photos and reviews were published on Backstreets.com. Couple dozen likes, a few less retweets. Sitting at a side table at the RSL, in-between glances at Carlton getting smashed by West Coast on a big screen, my Twitter feed was utter madness. Likes, retweets, comments from fans using the terms 'love', 'luv', 'lv', etc. The worldwide fan storm continued unabated through dinner and the DWME show, social activities that kept me from gleaning the source of the deluge. Even without paying strict attention I knew this much: These tweets had nothing to do with me. They were the heartfelt words of fans directing their affection to SRK directly, as if he was reading them off his phone in an Italian restaurant in Australia. The man receives such online messages of adoration and loyalty and support and lord knows what else every minute of every day. Then there's the crowds that sit outside his home Mumbai, throngs that chase his cars down the street, mobs that gather at film shoots. Alongside a perfect pizza I got a taste of what a monstrously famous human being gets fed by his fans. I was glad to have a bottle of pinot noir nearby to wash it down.

On Sunday morning the source of the deluge became clear. It appears at the top of this post, but here's a closer look:

This fan of Shah Rukh Khan had been retweeted by Shah Rukh Khan after a press conference for a Shah Rukh Khan film called Fan. He'd gotten the 19 days thing backwards but, on a weekend that for him included an appearance at the Miss India pageant and meeting British royals William and Kate, he'd still managed to thank me and bust my chops. Again.

Another reason to call him King Khan.

IFFM 2015 program reveal @ Indian Consul, 1 July 2015

If I had time to Photoshop I'd put Mitu's face on the choo-choo.

A lot of important things were discussed at Wednesday's program launch of the 2015 Indian Film Festival Melbourne (IFFM). Themes of freedom and equality in Indian cinema, the revolutionary 'girl power' displayed in the animated Burka Avenger series out of Pakistan, Bollywood's role in the transformation of Indian society, even the predictably polarising subject of sexuality on the big screen.

What struck me throughout the afternoon press conference at the Consulate General of India, however, was the impossible task Festival Director Mitu Bhowmick Lange and her trailblazing team at Mind Blowing Films faced this year. Last year's IFFM boasted the most beloved star in the Indian universe, Amitabh Bachchan. Even today that sentence beggars belief. Did Bollywood superstar and Indian demi-god Amitabh Bachchan really come to Melbourne last year and participate in a variety of IFFM events, the finale being his appearance at the first-ever IFFM Awards in front of a packed and rapturous Princess Theatre? Did that actually happen?

Yeah, it did. And it was life-changing for all involved.

Time marches inexorably on, of course, and I imagine Mitu & Co. were daunted by the task of starting from scratch and gearing up for 2015's followup. But, like the words of the Little Engine That Could every American kid has programmed into his/her head -- "I think I can, I think I can ..." -- Mitu and her colleagues have pushed aside the weight of heightened expectations and delivered a festival bound to resonate in Australia, India and beyond.

Again.

Madhabi Mukherjee in Satyajit Ray's 'Charulata'

I'll be posting more in the coming weeks about 2015 IFFM offerings before it kicks off Friday 14 August with a screening of Prashant Nair's Umrika, a World Cinema Dramatic Audience Award winner at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival. (Festival tickets go on sale 15 July.) As mentioned, Wednesday's press conference was held at the Indian Consulate on leafy St Kilda Road. No glitz, no glam, introduced eloquently by Consul General Manika Jain, the highlight for most was the magnitude of starpower coming to Melbourne: Anil Kapoor and his daughter Sonam, Kangana Ranaut, Imran Khan, Simi Garewal, Rajkumar Hirani and many others.

If those names mean nothing to you, here's a quick primer: Anil Kapoor's an East/West acting legend who's been a household name in India for 30 years. Sonam Kapoor's an actress on the rise whose fashion-sense lands her on magazine covers and outspokenness gives entertainment industry writers bahut headlines. Kangana Ranaut, an attendee of last year's festival, starred in one of 2014's biggest hits (Queen) and the 2015 blockbuster Tanu Weds Manu Returns. Imran Khan's a heart-throb who hails from Bollywood royalty (he's the nephew of Aamir Khan, a genius whose work you REALLY ought to know). Simi Garewal's a living legend who's been a radiant presence at the last two IFFMs. Rajkumar Hirani is back as well. He's only a writer/director with a string of box office success unmatched by anyone. Anywhere. In any market.

Kangana at IFFM 2014.

A truly astounding collection of talent and celebrity. And that's only a small pool of people on their way to Melbourne next month.

Living in Australia means finding many products, services, destinations and just about everything else claiming to be the 'Southern Hemisphere's greatest ...' but what we enjoy in Melbourne every year is verifiably the Southern Hemisphere's greatest annual celebration of Indian cinema.

For 2015, here's verification:

• An opening weekend that intentionally coincides with Indian Independence Day on 15 August. Both the Consul General and Mitu were especially proud to announce a flag-raising ceremony will be held at Federation Square to mark the occasion, followed by the always popular Bollywood dance competition.
• An equality theme with real, actual teeth: Films and documentaries deemed too controversial to be screened in India on gay and transgender issues, acid attacks on women, and religious charlatans, as perfectly satirised in Aamir Khan's PK.
• Screenings of blockbuster Bollywood films that defy East/West categorisation ... they're simply great films. In other words: They're safe for white people! You'll love 'em!
• The usual mix of arthouse and indie films that consistently exceed expectations and nearly always teach this child of the West as much as they entertain. 
• Films from Bangladesh, Pakistan, Nepal and other parts of the world where people live and love and lose and have stories worth sharing. 
• A showcase of India's greatest films, including screenings of digitally remaster classics by legendary Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray.
• A closing night world premiere of Kabir Khan's Phantom starring Saif Ali Khan and Katrina Kaif.

Choo! Choo!

Consul General Manika Jain makes opening remarks.

I look forward to snapping photos of Anil Kapoor standing both in the flesh and in closer proximity to Mitu next month.

Press conference crowd.

As always, I was struck by Mitu's ability to teach as well as promote. She wears her passion for all things Indian cinema on her sleeve but it's the wisdom behind her passion that lingers.

Piku, meet The Avengers.

I was privileged to see a preview of Piku on Monday, four days before its worldwide release, courtesy of Mitu Bhowmick Lange and her team at Mind Blowing Films. I enjoyed it and left the cinema thinking it would be an easy write-up, that finding a hook for Western filmgoers would be a breeze.

Only it wasn't.

There were basics. Piku is an actor-dominated film, in this case three of Indian cinema's finest: Deepika Padukone, Amitabh Bachchan and Irrfan Khan. It's refreshingly, brutally honest, a rarity among commercial films. Director Shoojit Sircar does a phenomenal job portraying a peculiar father-daughter relationship without the usual sappy cliches. His depictions of family interplay, usually over meals, made me think of similar scenes in Francis Ford Coppola's Godfather trilogy and the brilliant Modern Family tv show.

A lovely film, a heartwarming film, a unique film ... accurate labels, but cheap superlatives. What context could make this film properly vibrate with a Western audience? I was drawing a blank.

Until my wife and I saw The Avengers: Age of Ultron Saturday night. And then it was easy.

The success of Marvel's Avengers franchise and its many spinoffs is attributed by some to multi-million dollar CGI budgets and villians bent on global annihilation that automatically draw an international audience. It's a tried and true formula employed by many but few enjoy box office numbers like the Avengers. Its phenomenal success, to me anyway, stems from two qualities that stray from the 'How much shit can we blow up in 90 minutes?' formula:

1) a star-studded cast
2) a collection of extraordinarily gifted heroes who relate to each other in the most casually human of ways

First, the cast. Robert Downey jr, Samuel L. Jackson, Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth et al. are marquee names that studios trust to open films on their own, much less as members of an ensemble cast in exceptionally tight-fitting outfits. Second, the interplay between these characters cleverly relies on simple glances, warmth and humour to connect them to an audience, regardless of the often ridiculous scenarios they're fighting through. Even the best CGI descends into a series of cartoons if nothing in between touches a nerve, and the talented actors who comprise the Avengers rise above their high-concept surroundings to do that more often than you 'd expect. Heroes with genuine humanity resonate long after cities are smoldering and villians are banished and a premise for the next sequel has been revealed at the end of the credits. They need to make us care.

Which brings us to the heroes of Piku.

Bashkor Banerjee (Babu)

In Indian cinema, the trio of Deepika Padukone, Amitabh Bachchan and Irrfan Khan has just as much if not more gravitas than the cast of the Avengers. There is no greater star in Indian cinema's long history than Mr. Bachchan, a 72-year-old who's nonetheless appeared in a staggering 36 films in the past 10 years alone. He's also hosted six seasons of Kaun Banega Crorepati (Who Will Become a Millionaire, popularly known as KBC), a wildly popular Indian TV show, in that span. All this from a man who reached legendary status in India before the 1990s. And when I say legendary, I mean bloody legendary: When Amit-ji was injured doing his own stunt during the filming of a fight scene in 1982, thousands converged on his hospital and prayed for his recovery. Cut to present day and hundreds flock every Sunday to his home in Mumbai, hoping for a glimpse of/wave from one of the most famous men on earth.

The man's not a hero: He's a god. Which, in the Marvel universe, would make him Thor. But over the course of Piku, Mr Bachchan's Bashkor Banerjee transforms instantly from a rumpled, sweater-wearing, bespectacled, mild-mannered man to a nearly unrecognisable monster, capable of wreaking havoc with little effort or regret.

Which makes him, in fact, Bruce Banner/Hulk. A constipated Hulk, no less. (Let that roll around your imagination). He hurls abuse and offers support to his caretaker daughter in equal measure, all the while consumed by his body's self-defeating tendencies. Bachchan's Babu destroys without hesitation but deep down you know he wants to protect his daughter -- but to do so requires defeating his own nature.

Piku

Deepika Padukone is simply the most dynamic actor in Bollywood at the moment. She shifts from sensuous item girl to independent film heroine with ease. Only eight years removed from her breakthrough role in the Shah Rukh Khan blockbuster Om Shanti Om, the 29-year-old makes actors around her better by absorbing light rather than reflecting it, never overshadowing but always self-assured. Deepika's astounding natural beauty would make her easy to write off but Piku and 2014's Finding Fanny find her eschewing the glamour every Indian actress must wantonly project if she wants to be cast as anything but a suffering wife or insufferable mother. Not all of her films have been blockbusters but she's yet to sell herself short, and in Piku she's created a modern heroine that by the film's end you wish you'd gotten to know better.

The name of Deepika's character is the name of the film because everything that happens in the film flows through her. Her father's pain, misery, and love; her family's heartache over the prospect of selling their ancestral home in Kolkata; and the growing interest of Irrfan's character Rana all get processed by her multi-tasking, high-strung mind. She's confident and successful but ultimately unsatisfied.

She's Tony Stark/Ironman. The dark intellect of every scene she's in. Stark's best lines often come when all we see are his eyes and digital jibberish inside Ironman's helmet. Likewise, Deepika's eyes are powerful enough to convey ... well ... anything, everything or nothing at all. I found myself watching her eyes when I should have been reading subtitles. Not for the first time in one of her films.

Rana and Babu.

Irrfan Khan can't match the legendary status of Mr Bachchan or recent box office success of Deepika but I think he's the most natural actor of the trio. All the characters I've seen him play are old souls, whether it's an unflinching police inspector in Slumdog Millionaire or besotted office worker in The Lunchbox. The versatile 48-year-old's been in dozens of films and TV shows during a career that's included roles in several Western production and have allowed him to unleash a pair of eyeballs even more evocative than Deepika's. Like Ms. Padukone, Irrfan makes fellow actors better by infusing his presence on screen, whether spilling his guts or staring out to sea, with a billion human emotions in the blink of a hypnotising eye. Rana, his character in Piku, is a man burdened by family and failed expectations who delivers truth to Babu and Piku at the same measured pace he delivers them from Delhi to Kolkata in one of his company's vehicles.

Rana is Thor. He brings an otherworldly perspective to the daily battle of wills between a father-daughter duo that calls on reservoirs of superhuman patience and strength. Rana is a subdued voice among attention seekers and when he does blow (with a mighty 'CHUP!') it's momentous. He wields a hammer of simple normalcy and knows when to use it, judiciously and with a grin.

I fear comparing an Indian family drama with a comic book blockbuster gives an impression of folly -- of course a strict comparison of them is silly -- so here's the serious bit. Piku represents a once-in-a-generation assemblage of talent that benefits from a director wise enough to understand the forces at his command. One need not understand Bengali to appreciate the nuances of often frantic dialogues that reveal a plain, complicated and very modern Indian family. I loved Age of Ultron and am a fan of director Joss Whedon but there's no need to see that film again until it's out on DVD and need to shut my brain off for two hours 20 minutes. Piku is a film I look forward to seeing again this week because I want to revisit the company of Babu, Piku and Rana, and marvel at the depth of their deliverers.

Piku is a special film about ordinary people dealing with shit. (Yes, literally.) No aliens, no doomsday machines, no apocalyptic showdowns. Just the very things we face every day in the struggle to lead satisfying lives before we die. Which is a helluva lot harder to depict than a wiseguy in an Ironman suit saving the planet.

See Piku, and you'll understand why.

Vidya Balan & Mitu Bhowmick Lange @ 2015 IFFM curtain raiser, 10 April 2015

In Vidya Balan's multiple award-winning 'The Dirty Picture', a caricature of an aging Indian cinema hero named Surya -- who sees nothing wrong with an actress playing his lover in one film and his mother in the next -- makes the following declaration:

A heroine's life is like an elected government: The party lasts for 5 years. After that it's there for support.

'The Dirty Picture' may have been set in the '80s but until recently it would have been easy to say nothing's changed. Bollywood's leading men continue to woo women half their age, while the heroines they pursued at the start of their careers play mothers or get trundled out of the industry entirely. It's a man's game in front of the camera, behind the lens and in Mumbai's skyscrapers of power.

But there are signs Indian cinema is being dragged into the 21st century, and two of those pulling the hardest were together again in a Melbourne skyscraper on Friday morning to 'raise the curtain' on the 2015 Indian Film Festival of Melbourne.

Luckily, so was I.

For the third year in a row Festival Director Mitu Bhowmick Lange stood before gathered press, dignitaries and invited guests and introduced Balan as IFFM's ambassador. As usual they proclaimed their shared vision and dedication to the diversity of Indian cinema, but this year I got a visceral sense of the profundity of their partnership. What other film star takes such a personal stake in a film festival nearly 10,000 kms from her home? What organiser has the moxie to build a successful Indian-based film festival in a city where Indian films barely make a dent? Their name recognition may differ but their courage and conviction do not, and I'd venture to say they inspire each other to force the change that needs to happen if Indian cinema is to remain relevant and vibrant to its worldwide audience.

A greaseball like Surya would find his ass whipped six ways to Sunday if he crossed either of their paths. As a joined force Vidya and Mitu could defeat an army of Suryas. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a show I'd pay good money to see.

Melbourne sparkled in every direction on a perfect autumn morning. 

Mitu welcomed Vidya at the elevators. By the time they walked through the doors of a meet and greet session they looked and sounded like reunited sisters.

Prior to the press conference, Vidya exchanged gifts with a Liberal minister named Martin Foley. When asked about continued funding for the IFFM, the new minister assured support from the Australian government would be forthcoming. He and his government will be held to those words.

The fourth IFFM will be the first to feature a theme: equality. Vidya praised Mitu for 'adding a social nerve core' to the festival, 'not something that comes instinctively' in an industry mostly concerned with commercial success. Vidya expressed satisfaction with the increased scope of the 2015 IFFM and hoped it would lead to a growing 'footfall of non-Indian Australians' at the festival. She went on to implore festival-goers to 'bring their families, friends, colleagues ... their DOGS' along with them. I bet the big cheese of cinema chain Hoyts, who was in attendance, got a kick out of that remark.

During a Q&A that was blessedly free of personal questions, an audience member noted the symbolism of Vidya and Mitu being the driving forces behind the IFFM in a patriarchal industry and culture. A wonderful point, and -- perhaps -- a symbol of the overdue respect Vidya's earned as a conscientious woman in the film industry. I've been to all three of Vidya's IFFM press conferences and this was the first to be free of cringeworthy commentary or asinine prying. Another sign of progress. Vidya jokingly referred to herself as the 'biggest ambassador for Melbourne' and said she was 'trying to convince everyone I know to shoot a film in Melbourne.' Asked for her top memories of IFFM, Mitu described Vidya's historic visit to the MCG in 2012 and how she 'floored' TV-personality Eddie McGuire during a live interview.

She also described Amitabh Bachchan taking a selfie (left) from the stage of last year's inaugural IFFM Awards Night and how it made her feel truly at home in Melbourne for the first time. As someone lucky enough to be seated two rows behind the screen legend, and who witnessed the sometimes terrifying degree devotees will go to express their love for a man they've never met but carry in their hearts like a living embodiment of their homeland, I can't begin to imagine what was going through Mitu's mind as the crowd shouted his name and Mr Bachchan -- Amitabh freakin' Bachchan -- playfully snapped a photo of himself on the stage of Melbourne's Princess Theatre. Besides feeling at home, I'd hope she'd also be thinking something along the lines of ... 'I did this.'

Vidya is every inch the movie star yet comes across as both whipsmart and personable. Mitu repeatedly thanked her for raising the 'credibility and visibility' of the IFFM to where it's now in the 'top two or three' Indian film festivals in the world. That's a remarkable accomplishment in such a small market. Mitu said the equality theme would encompass 'gender, race, sexuality and disability' and the August festival would feature a fashion show and recognition of Indian Independence Day on 15 August. She also said a festival program would be out in June. After thanking IFFM's loyal sponsors, Mitu praised her staff at Mind Blowing Films, who work tirelessly to make her vision real.

I'd also like to thank Mitu and everyone at Mind Blowing Films for the kindness they've shown me over the years. A more earnest and committed group you will never find.