Kiran, a wealthy, naive young man from the country goes to Bombay to continue his education. At college he becomes involved with a group of students who get him hooked on drugs. . You can read more in Google, Youtube, Wiki
Kiran, a wealthy, naive young man from the country goes to Bombay to continue his education. At college he becomes involved with a group of students who get him hooked on drugs.
|Download||Jalte Badan (1973) ~ Crime Drama ~||Other||44||39||1.15 GB|
You may also like
Jalte Badan torrent reviews
Jax R (br) wrote: Brilliant. Loved Bob. Good luck James.
Zenif I (it) wrote: i am a big fan of teen guna laagan dunga...
Dena S (au) wrote: A nice laid back one time watch.
Eliabeth M (es) wrote: a beautiful film about family, choices, and heartache. artfully done. simple and beautiful.
Gonalo M (es) wrote: Cuando se pierde la razon de pelear
Jessica J (au) wrote: THIS IS FUNNY I DON'T CARE WHO YA ARE THATS FUNNY RIGHT THERE
Saskia D (gb) wrote: A dutch classic in my opinion. Theo is brilliant as Johan.
James M (ca) wrote: A cheesy 80's horror/sci-fi B-movie which is actually much better than it sounds. End of the world movies meet Dawn Of The Dead as a comet which hasn't passed by Earth in 65 million years turns the majority of the population into red dust and others into flesh eating zombies. Two people unaffected by the comets armageddon powers are two sisters from the LA suburbs who find a male survivor hiding out at a local radio station and put out a message to find others & receive a message from scientists in a bunker who may have a darker motive for finding Earth's survivors.It's all quite goofy & definitely owes a debt to Romero's zombie movies, but it's also a fun homage to the B-movies of the 1950's with clever references throughout. The acting is all rather average, the script is cheesy and the special effects and makeup are quite atrocious, but this was still a decent and entertaining movie. A hidden gem.
(gb) wrote: One of Andy Warhol's principle crimes against humanity is that he gave film directors permission to be boring.Somehow he got license to call anything he did "art", and so he'd just put a camera in front of somebody and let it run, and show it in public completely unedited. Forty-five minutes of a man eating mushrooms. Five hours of a man sleeping. Eight hours of a static shot of the top floors of the Empire State Building. Didn't even justify it (Warhol was notoriously inarticulate in discussing his art), because a parade of aesthetes would immediately explain and analyze his ground-breaking innovations. It was good to be Andy.Another issue - and I will bring these two issues around in the end, I promise - is the nature of character and logic in a film. Stories attempt to present a series of events that could happen logically and reasonably, that obey the laws of physics, probability and human nature. Once a film steps outside these boundaries, once they are presenting things that cannot or do not really happen in real life, there are no limits to what it can show. Of course, there is no shortage of movies presenting fantastical realities - most things we see in action movies can never happen in real life - but they still attempt to maintain some kind of character consistency and nominal plausibility, no matter how aggressively our disbelief has been suspended.But once logical sense is abandoned, once a character behaves in a way that seem inconsistent with human nature, then literally anything can happen in a movie, and we're no longer watching a movie about a person in a situation, we are watching a series of unmotivated or under-motivated activities. The character becomes less human and more of a symbol of whatever axe the filmmaker is grinding. Then we approach randomness, and this to me is the enemy of art.I'm all for a film challenging its audience, even being arrogant to its audience. I also have a certain tolerance level for pretentiousness. What I don't tolerate in art is arbitrariness, the notion that one choice is as good as any other. I'm not a fan of Dadaistic randomness in art; it's ultimately nihilistic and/or lazy. We live in a society where artists are ostensibly free to make any choice they want. It's a matter of artistic responsibility to make those choices with care and reason, and even better, with skill and impact.So it's with these two thoughts in mind that I approach Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. If you plan on ever seeing it, know this - 1) I warned you not to, and 2) massive spoilers follow.Waiting for Godot was famously described as a play where nothing happens twice. Chantal Akerman does Beckett one better by having nothing happen three times. Third time around though, something actually does happen, and brother, it's a doozy. The first 180 minutes of this 201 minute movie are spent watching Jeanne do the most mind-numbingly mundane household tasks over a three day period. She does nothing you haven't done 1,000 times, and does not do them any more interestingly than you do. She cooks dinner, she washes up, she makes a bed. There is no point in cataloging her tasks, because there is nothing revealing about them. Every shot in this movie is static, set at a neutral angle with the frame generally symmetrically composed (It may be possible that at some point the camera moves in this movie, but I'm not rescreening the whole damn movie to find it). Nothing is done to enhance the drama of these mundane tasks. You've seen security camera footage more dramatic. I can honestly tell you that for almost the entire movie, you could play it on your DVR at 4x speed and not miss a thing.Oh, she prostitutes herself to a rigidly scheduled roster of men, every afternoon daily. But there is still nothing interesting about it; no Whore with a Heart of Gold, this. The doorbell rings, she meets him at the door, she takes his hat and coat and hangs it up, she leads him to the room. Cut to later, it's darker in the house, she leads him out of the room, hands him his hat and coat, he pays her, he leaves, she puts the money in a little ceramic tureen. All utterly perfunctory and no more dramatic than boiling the potatoes.The action isn't the point. The point is Jeanne. She does it all with a dead look in her eyes, with a constant tension to keep it all together. Actually, Delphine Seyrig plays her quite brilliantly, maintaining her composure through the mundanity of her tasks like a tightrope walker. Her Jeanne would be sad if she wasn't so dead inside.The first hour of the movie is the first of the three days. We watch Jeanne walk through all of her tasks. Hour two is the next day. All pretty much the same thing, only things fray slightly. She drops a spoon. She overcooks the potatoes. Her hair is slightly askew. When everything is so uninteresting and routine, even a slight variation seems like an earthquake, if you're connected to watching her. But maintaining that connection is a challenge, because it's all pretty boring.The third hour, again, same thing, only this time, we see Jeanne on the bed from above, with her client. At first she is just lying there motionless as the client carries on, and then she starts squirming and gasping and clutching the sheets and trying to push him off of her, and then finally gives in to the orgasm. Possibly her first ever. Then we see Jeanne at her dresser, pulling herself together, brushing out her hair and buttoning her blouse, her client behind her on the bed quite satisfied. Her face is visibly distraught, but still restrained, trying to hold it together. Then she rises, grabs a pair of scissors, and stabs him to death in the chest.Then another static shot of her sitting at her dining room table. Distraught, achingly close to emotion, still torn between holding it together and falling apart, or maybe falling apart isn't even in her emotional vocabulary, and so she sits in the twilight and waits... for what? Her son to come home and find her with blood on her hands and a dead man on her bed? A neighbor? The police? She waits like Didi and Gogo. "Shall we go?" "Yes, let's go." They do not move.In the end, we have three hours of tedious monotony followed by a capital crime. We can build a profile of a woman of total spiritual anomie, holding herself together with her routines until they become frayed. And once they unravel and an actual feeling penetrates her ambulatory corpse of a soul, the only thing she can do is kill the man who committed the unpardonable sin of making her feel something.We CAN build that profile, that is, if we haven't been alienated by three hours of tedious monotony (the Warhol point) and if we accept that her killing the man was honestly motivated (the arbitrariness point).It is up to the rigor of a moviegoer as to whether he or she can tolerate watching three hours of mundane activity. I suspect you lose most people right there. But then you have to accept that it makes sense that Jeanne would kill her client after he gives her an orgasm. You might accept that. Personally, I have to construct a brand new understanding of human behavior where that makes sense. For me, it felt arbitrary, a moviemaker's choice, rather than making sense from what I have been given to understand about Jeanne. A great many people love this movie and feel that it makes total sense. I'm not one of them. To me, within a realistic - maybe hyper-realistic - movie, Akerman stepped out of the realm of Things People Do, into a place where Dielman's murder is symbolic, or emblematic, or feministic, or nihilistic or whatever you read into it. But what it isn't is something humans do.
Ric A (ru) wrote: A good, off-beat film that takes you a bit on the darker side of daily living during those times. The linearity of A Most Violent Year is innate but actually helps it to translate the story to the audience on a much better level.
Anthony T (ru) wrote: Not what I thought it would be
Mikko L (ca) wrote: Blue in the Face is a hard flick to review. Is it a kool flick, or are they just riding in the wake of Ultra Kool flick Smoke? It's a sequel. They're both released the very same same year. The setting is the same; you're in a corner shop which sells tobacco in Brooklyn. Only this time they march in a number of celebrities, take Madonna for one example (or take Roseanne Barr for two examples), to play for cameos or small roles. While Auster has his spoon in this soup, as in Smoke, the kool stories are not there. Jim Jarmusch and Lou Reed make the two most interesting guests in this flick, but their parts taste a bit like mere interviews, and but borderline dry ones. BTW, I do wonder if Jarmusch really puffed his last Lucky in the movie set, or has he returned to his habits? Awright. I give up. Can't quite figure this out, but I'll award it with four and a half stars. You can very well watch it if not too long time has elapsed since the last time you watched Smoke.