Showing posts with label Reviews ( Books and Movies ). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reviews ( Books and Movies ). Show all posts

Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Race 2 : Movie Review


Race 2 Portrait. 

Retribution can be considered bitter - sweet when hoodwinking billions.

In the sequel to 2008's Race, Saif Ali Khan returns as Ranveer; A sharp witted protagonist and antagonist whose ambitions are stuck for good in the con games  and as formula prescribes, he's got murder in his mind.

After opening, with possibly the worst car-explosion special effects in history, Ranveer, off the radar since Race, appears at a Casino run by Vikram Thapar (Rajesh Khattar), a millionaire whose motivations for money-doubling are as philistine as his common sense.

Vikram's con, in a long line of unoriginal rip-offs in Race 2's, is one of the small fishes; there's bigger game at play. As a song from the movie goes "Allah Duhai Hai"!

race-2-400---2

Race 2, shot everywhere except India (as its predecessor), is a lot like every other sequel: it suffers from 'sequelitis' – an epidemic that infects the genome of box-office breaking movies with spin-off potential. The virus is global and unbiased in its toxicity: it shares equal affection regardless of geographies, film industries or originality in plot pitching. 
Race-400--5

Ranveer, like any other heroic lead-villain of a heist movie, has a deceptive itinerary of money laundering, money nabbing and general hoodwinking pre-plotted.

His schema compromises: Amaan (John Abraham, leaner, as effective as possible with the material), a street fighter turned big-fish, his half-sultry sister (Deepika Padukone), his newly acquired girl-friend (Jacqueline Fernandez), the returning lynchpin with a fruit fetish (Anil Kapoor) and his new stereotypical dumb-blonde (Ameesha Patel).

There are also a lot of deal breaking and half-interested late night booty calls that trail away to ritzy dance numbers.

Double take cons  and U-turns  go off without intrigue or punch (there's a vengeance-driven backstory, that one outguesses an hour before it happens on-screen).

Consequences and upshots are relegated to second class citizenship, outmoded by infrequent growls, car chases, fisticuffs and skimpy bikini beach-parties (as another song goes: everyone has a "Party on their Mind"). And of course, shelling out millions  and then, unsurprisingly, billions is as stress free as delivering dialogues (and in a way, that's what they are: dialogues).

race-400---4

Credibility, as signs point out, was on leave the days Race 2 was written, leaving emotional gravity at the mercy of its actors (and we know how that pans out). Still, even with Saif Ali Khan bringing his sincerest asceticism to his scenes, a hefty bulk of Race 2 turns out as phony as his million Euro fibs.

race-400---3

Perhaps that is the problem with big, bloated, blockbusters (and mind you, the movie does have "blockbuster" stamped all over): people talk big money and payback as if they have a free-license sanctioned from God Almighty.

Race 2 may sound like an imbecilic drag, built on pomp, glitzy showmanship and middling narrative pizzazz by directors Abbas-Mastan, its flow, however, isn't intolerable (the "duo" radically recover from last year's Players.

In fact, '2' is a pricier "mix" of part 1 (which was a lift-off of Goodbye Lover by the way) – and if that is the benchmark, then Race 2 in an unabashed winner, in a one-person grand prix.

Win, lose or settle. Is there really a difference…?

race400-6

The songs are kind of spiffy; the action, especially a free-running Parkour dash in Cyprus – is half-engaging. The romance and retribution bit…well, I've seen better. 'Race 3', should be out sooner than you think.



EB

Monday, 28 January 2013

"The Notebook" by Jose Saramago : Book Review

Reviewed by Asif Farrukhi



DEATH does not seem to have been much of a deterrent for Jose Saramago, who even today continues to amaze his admirers and even gain new ones. The Portuguese novelist and Nobel laureate is best known for his novel Blindness, a startling fable about those who can see and those who will not, which is sometimes described as his best work. However, I am reluctant to speak of him with reference to any single work. My great admiration for Blindness notwithstanding, the book which mesmerised me was The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis; I have been unable to forget its enigmatic opening line: "Here the sea ends and the earth begins". It was this book which made me search for his other novels in English. The comparatively short and powerful novel, The Elephant's Journey, was translated into English just as the news of Saramago's death was slowly being absorbed by his ardent admirers the world over. But it was not the only fruit of his last few years. The Notebook also comes from the last years of Saramago's life and is a different book from his previous ones, made up of pieces originally written for his blog but no less compelling than his novels.

As if writing these rich and multi-layered novels was not enough, Saramago undertook the adventurous expedition of writing a blog. What impact this news must have generated can be gauged from the introduction to The Notebook penned by Umberto Eco, no ordinary writer and interpreter: "And here he is keeping the blog in which he takes a pop at more or less everyone, attracting broadside and brickbats from many a quarter — not, in most cases, because he says things that shouldn't be said, but because he doesn't mince his words. And perhaps he actually infuriates readers on purpose." This seems to be an accurate description of what Saramago had set out to do and powerful writer that he was, he made it a worthwhile effort which could stand beside his memorable fiction. For some strange reason, publishers have labelled the book a memoir. With disarming modesty, Saramago called the blog his personal space and in the preface, which is only a page long, credited his sister and brother-in-law for helping him manage it. A working journalist for many years, he used it to record his opinions and his views on public affairs, and comment on books and sometimes on personal matters which, for a writer of his calibre, cannot remain personal. This is how Saramago used the freedom offered by the Internet and in one entry, defended himself against the charge that he is not really a blogger.

Blogs are written in Urdu too, but on a smaller scale and the few I have seen are focused more on political themes than cultural issues. These issues are still within the domain of the regular columns of creative writers in Pakistan, best exemplified by Intizar Husain (his Urdu columns, not the English ones which are rather different), Kishwar Naheed and Masood Ashar. Saramago the blogger was closer in spirit to these writers, but what set him apart was his astonishing range and breadth of vision. He moved from one theme to another but never missed any occasion to vent his fury and did not mince his words when expressing his opinions. George W. Bush was one of his favourite subjects and one can say that the very mention of his name moved Saramago to eloquence. On September 18, 2008, he wrote: "This man, with his mediocre intelligence, abysmal ignorance, confused communication skills and constant succumbing to the irresistible temptation of pure nonsense, has presented himself to humanity in the grotesque pose of a cowboy who has inherited the world and mistaken it for a herd of cattle."

The first piece in The Notebook is a tribute to Lisbon, and Saramago linked it with a memory: "In physical terms we inhabit space, but in emotional terms we are inhabited, by memory. A memory composed of a space and time, a memory inside which we live, like an island between two oceans — one in the past, the other the future." In another piece he proclaimed: "I don't think I have ever divided my identity as a writer from my conscience as a citizen. I believe that where one goes, the other should go, too." His sense of outrage as a citizen was apparent when he focused on themes closer to home. He attacked the role of religion in the world. Another issue which he brought up is the dispossession of the Palestinians and he wrote movingly about the poetry of Darwish.

Not surprisingly, some of these issues have a Hispanic or Iberian focus and readers from other countries need to contextualise them. Then there are others that we may not have paid attention to but Saramago has made them accessible and interesting for us. One such lucid example is when he proclaimed that "Baltasar Garzon is one of the most influential people to have emerged from Spanish society in the second half of the 20th century". If the name does not ring a bell immediately, you can simply read on to understand that he is the judge who fought the battle for the legal process against Augusto Pinochet, the former dictator of Chile, and the investigation against the war crimes of Franco's regime in Spain. These "illuminatingly democratic moments" are better illustrated through Saramago's informed comments, and for this one must give him credit that here too, like in his novels, he has opened up zones of experience which were not otherwise available to us.

The Notebook

By Jose Saramago

(Memoirs)

Published by Verso

ISBN 184467701X

284pp. $16.50


EB

Immortal Gabbar Singh : Book Review

Reviewed by Mamun Adil



Gabbar Singh's signature line "Kitnay aadmi thay?" from Sholay, the evergreen 1975 classic, has taken on a new avatar. It is now the title of a new book by Diptakirti Chaudhuri, a Bollywood-obsessed, Gurgaon-based "salesman".

The subtitle, Completely Useless Bollywood Trivia, sums up the book adequately: in it you will find all things Bollywood, and even the most well-informed Bollywood enthusiast will find some rare nugget about Hindi films that he or she had been unaware of.

Kitnay Aadmi Thay? is divided into eight "logic-less sections" varying from 'Movies, masti and magic" (which includes '10 best movies not to have been made' and 'Utterly butterly Bollywood: 30 Amul ads') to 'Manoranjan ka baap' (which includes 'Face off: 11 Legendary confrontations' and 'Three's a crowd: 9 actors who played three roles or more'). (And there's no contents page either, the logic being that this 'is a book for dipping into…')

One of best sections in the book, 'Obsessions' includes 'Dawaa ya dua: 8 kinds of diseases' in which eight of the most common ailments found in Hindi films — including the big C, brain tumours, heart diseases, amnesia (how can we forget this one?), blindness, AIDs and even the fictitious "loveria" — are highlighted.

However, while some wonderful examples of characters who have been struck by these diseases are cited (for instance, Rajesh Khanna who has cancer in Anand and Safar), Waheeda Rehman who has amnesia in Coolie is sorely missing. Still, that is forgivable since Chaudhuri in his foreword does state that "this book is incomplete … feel superior if an obvious title is missing".

Another section is titled 'Waak engliss, taak engliss' (obviously based on Amitabh Bachchan's famous lines in Namak Halaal), in which you will find out that the lines spoken by Bachchan in Naseeb as he jumps out of an Easter egg — "sophisticated rhetorician intoxicated by the exuberance of your own verbosity" — are the same ones that were uttered more than 100 years ago by British prime minister Benjamin Disraeli in parliament to describe "his bitter rival, William Gladstone"! No wonder then that the chapter is one of the most riveting in the book.

'We the people' is a minority report of sorts. It highlights "every region and religion of India [which] is stereotyped with equal offensiveness." What follows is a list of both accurate and offensive portrayals of all minorities, be they Christians, Sikhs, Parsis, South Indians or Bengalis. Curiously missing are Muslims, which could well take up a chapter. After all, there's Amitabh in Coolie and Salma Agha in Nikaah, not to mention the many 'Muslim socials' that were all the rage at one point in time. Remember Deedar-i-Yaar or even Sanam Bewafaa anyone, in which Muslims characters went around tasleeming and adaabing ad nauseum?

Other notable lists include 'Imagining things: 10 best movies to not have been made', 'The great Indian movie: 7 movies inspired by epics' (in which Chaudhuri somehow manages to draw parallels between the saccharine sweet Hum Saath Saath Hain and the Ramayana). '12 star nicknames' (did you know that Rakesh and Hritik Roshan's nicknames are Guddu and Duggu respectively?) and 'Lifeline of the nation: 10 train journeys you shouldn't miss', in which examples range from Kajol and Shahrukh Khan in Dilway Dulhaniya Lejayenge to relatively unknown movies called (and I kid you not) The Train and — wait for it — The Burning Train!

Chaudhuri's exhaustive — bordering on exhausting — knowledge of Bollywood is clearly apparent in the book; and his witty and quirky style of writing ensures that you aren't bored for a Bollywood second. It's the ideal book for any fanatic, who will probably end up wanting a sequel (in which chapters are dedicated to Naag nagins movies and tawaifs, among others, are a must).

And if you are truly Bollywood obsessed you'll find an example or factual error here and there. So if you do, follow Chauduri's advice, and feel superior. I sure did.

Kitnay Aadmi Thay?: Completely Useless Bollywood Trivia

(Bollywood)

By Diptakirti Chaudhuri

Westland Books, India

ISBN 9789381626191

Indian Rs275


EB

"Time Will Tell" by Donald Greig : Book Review

Reviewed by Taimur Sabih

 

AMALGAMATE mystique, distinctive character progression and immense knowledge of music and what you have is Time Will Tell by Donald Greig. The story is weaved around a long-lost and recently discovered 15th century

manuscript that could alter not just the face, but the entire history of music forever if proven authentic. One of the protagonists that existed in the past is portrayed and developed only through certain archives present in libraries, and as for the knowledge of music, the reader, from the very outset, might get a feeling that Greig is out to prove himself to music what Herman Melville was to whales.

It is a tad difficult to believe, and may come as a surprise to many, that Greig has forayed for the first time into writing fiction. It goes without saying that there are several autobiographical elements as he himself is a singer, music writer and lecturer of musicology. Explicably, we have Andrew Eiger, historian and lecturer of musicology, and Emma Mitchell, a concert performer, as the two main characters.

With the unfolding of the opening chapter we are introduced to the covert, obscure musician Jehan Ockeghem, who lived a few centuries ago and only comes forth in bits and pieces to the reader via the archives that Andrew explores in order to disentangle the knots of the web that besets what could probably be — if decrypted appropriately — the biggest discovery of music in recent times.

Moreover, as is the case with any successful piece of fiction, Greig has also resorted to parallel plotting, giving the readers insight into his protagonists' somewhat erratic and unstable family and love lives, ambitions, shortcomings and eventual achievements. Where Andrew is an overly focused intellectual encumbered with problems in his nuptial life, Emma appears to be the sort who is much more adaptable to her ever-changing life despite her strong interest in academia. What develops in the wake of such a portrayal is an effective comparison between a person of a high IQ but low EQ, and vice versa. This not only stimulates the reader, but also gives rise to quite a few jovial as well as thought-provoking situations that could be deemed a form of comic relief in an otherwise highly intense and engaging plot.

Another commendable facet of the novel is Greig's mastery over the use of language — his imagery, similes and metaphors. Simply put, all linguistic devices appear to be appropriately placed and well used according to the demand of the text.

In addition, there are occasions where the writer refers to Greek mythology and in order to make his meaning vivid, not just gives a brief account of the background of certain mythical characters, but also elucidates the meaning of their Greek and Latin nomenclature, which is itself indicative of his command over several other languages apart from English.

Speaking of English solely, Greig's diction is, if nothing else, quite amusingly expressive. His placement of words such as "fortuitous" with words like "error" makes the text interesting. Similarly, his familiarity with the various dialects of English spoken in the US and Great Britain, and the apt manner in which he highlights it, is bound to leave a long-lasting impression on the mind of the reader: "Momentarily now meant for a moment and not in a moment. A cigarette was a fag, the trunk of the car the boot, sidewalks would become pavements … He registered the glottal on 'Airways', the sibilant 't', so different to the softer dental 'd' to which he was accustomed, and the general harshness of the open vowel sounds …"

As for the setting of the events, the locale keeps changing from time to time. From a scholar researching in a quiet and peaceful library in the US to the chock-a-block, hustling and bustling Heathrow airport of London, and finally, all the way to the dimly lit — with either cheering or booing audiences — concert halls in Paris.

The only aspect of the novel which could perhaps be termed a bit taxing for the reader is the information about the conduction of concerts and the processes that are involved, heaps of jargon related to musical notations and their history. This, however, should not overshadow a story in which all the events are seamlessly woven to the point where they become inseparably intertwined and such technical details, albeit being a little too much at times, are part and parcel of it.

Time Will Tell

(NOVEL)

By Donald Greig

ThamesRiver Press, London

ISBN 978 0 85728 344 3

250pp. £15.99


EB

Monday, 21 January 2013

Surkh Dhabbay By Nilofar Iqbal : Book Review

Reviewed by Asif Farrukhi

NOT too long ago, literary journals used to introduce their readers to the best in fiction, and it was in an issue of Funoon, edited by no less a figure than Ahmed Nadeem Qasimi, that I chanced upon a story called "Ghora Gari" by a writer whose name was completely

unknown to me. It was a little nugget of a story, written with ease and lightness of spirit but managing to catch the troubled soul of an angry child. From that day onwards, I started looking out for any story published under that author's name. This was my introduction to Nilofar Iqbal and it must have taken place a good 20 years ago. I shared my admiration with the editor and Qasimi Sahab, who was also my mentor, responded by informing me that the writer was a young woman from Islamabad of whom he had great hopes.

Qasimi Sahab's high expectations were not in vain, as Iqbal went on to publish a number of remarkable stories in Funoon, stories which readers are not likely to forget. The best of these were collected in Ghanti, first published in 1996, with laudatory remarks by Mumtaz Mufti and a generous introduction by Qasimi Sahab. This volume is now reprinted in a new edition along with Iqbal's new collection of stories, Surkh Dhabbay.

Appearing after a long gap, the stories in the new collection are sure to attract the attention of her many admirers, but I cannot help but make one complaint — Iqbal should have written more! There are a number of commendable stories in the collection, one being about a family which ventures to send their daughter to study in Boston and reacts with mixed feelings when she announces her intention to get married to an American. Relieved to hear that the prospective bridegroom is converting to Islam for a traditional, religious ceremony, the family plans to celebrate the couple's rather reluctant homecoming, only to be shocked when they find out that the bridegroom is a black American. The story reaches its climax with the father cursing his daughter for having spoiled the family's racial purity.

Another story focuses on a servant who becomes indispensable to a modern, affluent family for taking care of the elderly and bedridden Abbaji. "Dhundh" brings up another ageing parent, this time the mother who is lost in a foggy world and has to be reminded of everything like a child. The choice of this theme and its sympathetic treatment are remarkable and serve to remind us that Iqbal had written some of her most powerful earlier stories around the plight of the elderly.

"Musalman" is another pinching story, this time about a social outcast who is taunted by the priest in the local church that his behaviour makes him wonder if he has become a Muslim. "Chuha" is closer to the symbolic style which characterises many contemporary writers and explores the inner turmoil of a man who moves away from all social contacts until he begins to lose his humanity.

The collection's title, Surkh Dhabbay, comes from four linked stories built around the American forces in Iraq, an unusual theme for Iqbal to tackle, taking her away from the comfort of home to new and uncertain places, with mixed results.

But finishing this book made me eager to once again read Iqbal's previous collection, and I must say that I was happy to renew my acquaintance with Ghanti, a book which remains as fresh and inviting as it was when first published. With subtle movements and without being judgemental or sentimental, Iqbal describes the changes in a family which begins to get tired of their bedridden father and the constant ringing of the bell with which he summons them to carry out his tasks. One night the son cannot take it any longer and removes the bell from his father's side. It is a very moving story and so is "Hisab" in which a village woman greets her grown-up and married children as they return from the city and begin to find fault with her simple ways. This story ends on a note of reconciliation but not without exposing the gap between the values of parents and children. No less serious but more laughable are the troubles of the main character in "Aunty", who wages a battle against advancing age with the help of cosmetics and starts seeing a younger and good-looking man until she begins to realise the financial, but not moral, implications of his demands. Shocked at first, she soon learns to accept her situation in this remarkable story. A brave venture is the last story in which an army general's batman is assigned to take care of the dogs, only to discover that after all, the dog's life is his.

Nilofar Iqbal writes about contemporary urban themes and extraordinary moments in the lives of otherwise ordinary people. She has a pleasant, unpretentious style which contributes to the readability of her stories. On the basis of her rather slim output she can easily be regarded as one of the most readable and interesting short story writers today. But like many of her readers, I hope that her next book will not take very long in appearing.

Surkh Dhabbay

(Short Stories)

By Nilofar Iqbal

Dost Publications, Islamabad

172pp. Rs260


EB

Sunday, 20 January 2013

Among Others By Jo Walton - Book Review

 

Reviewed by Mahvesh Murad

ONLY seven novels have ever been nominated for thre grand slam of genre prizes — the Nebula, the Hugo and the World Fantasy Award. It is a rare feat indeed, and the most recent book to receive this

accolade is Jo Walton's quiet, smart little novel Among Others, which has won both the 2011 Nebula and the 2012 Hugo. While these awards make the book attractive to readers and fans of science fiction and fantasy, they may well cause people who are averse to these genres to turn away. More's the pity then, because Among Others is barely a straight-up science fiction or fantasy novel. What it is, in fact, is a bildungsroman — the story of young Morwenna, who like so many teenagers, struggles to find her place in the world surrounded by those she cannot connect with: "They are not my people," she repeats. "They are not my people."

Among Others is set in 1979 and is the diary of a 15-year-old girl from a small Welsh industrial town (it even starts with an exclamation from the writer of the diary: "Very Private. This is NOT a vocab book!"). When we meet Morwenna, she has recently moved out of a state-run home for children to find her father, whom she has not seen since she was a toddler. He has since then been employed to manage a large estate for his "three bossy half-sisters" who — like the three Fates — immediately decide Morwenna's future and pack her off to an English boarding school. Morwenna is entirely out of place in this new world of English traditions, systems and teen girls more interested in their mothers' furs than in academics.

Not just is Morwenna from an entirely different social background, she has also been disabled in a car accident that killed her twin sister, and her limp, special shoes and cane mark her out from the crowd physically. She's certain she doesn't belong either at school or with her father's family: "They really can't wait to get rid of me, with my ugly Welsh accent and my limp and, worst of all, my inconvenient existence."

So what happened to Morwenna's twin? What was the accident that killed her and left behind this half-fey child, this prickly teenager who must try so hard to "ignore the pain, and ignore the huge hole where [her twin] Mor ought to be"? For the most part what is known is that the accident took place while the twins were attempting to stave off a particularly dangerous spell cast by their half-mad mother who "spins dark magic for ill". Just how unwell or abusive Morwenna's mother is is largely unseen in the book — it is clear however that the twins believed their mother to be an insane witch who used a sort of natural, pantheistic magic to control her world: something Morwenna delves into eventually and is ultimately afraid of.

Whether Morwenna's mother actually is a witch, whether Morwenna herself is able to cast spells or see fairies in the woods, is entirely up for debate. It would be very easy to believe all the magic in Among Others to be simply the result of a lonely teenager's overactive imagination. In fact, Morwenna's mother seems to be less witch and more mentally unstable, irresponsible single parent. Her 'evil' is implicit, her abusive actions are never clearly stated and she generally seems to be no worse than the mother of any hormonally charged teenage girl. Even her letters, confesses Morwenna, are "barbed, but with barbs that wouldn't really show if I showed [them] to someone else". Is it magic that drives her mother, or just a mental illness? Those afraid of reading fantasy fiction can rest assured that they will not have to suspend their disbelief very much or for very long — the narrative is understated, calm and strong. There are no fairies that communicate with humans, there is no chanting or waving of wands, there are no magic practices that Morwenna is certain of, and the effects (if any) of her 'spells' are quiet and coincidental: "I wish magic was more dramatic," she says and in fact, much of the fantasy element in the novel is so matter-of-fact that it could be read away the way Morwenna's mother's magic can be.

Morwenna's salvation lies in reading. Books are her anchor — quite literally too, with her bag full of books constantly slung on her shoulder. It is the one item she never lets go of, as if perhaps her meta- as well as physical balance both depend on the weight of books in her bag. "I have books, new books and I can bear anything as long as there are books."

Among Others is a love letter to great science fiction — whether from the Golden Age or the New Age, Morwenna's love for science fiction and fantasy literature is abundant, overflowing the pages of Walton's book. This precocious teenager's take on the canon of science fiction and fantasy is captivating, even for those who may not be as interested in these books as Morwenna is. The work of writers like Tiptree, Zelazny, Heinlein, Dick, Delany, Le Guin, Silverberg and Asimov appears in Among Others, along with that of Kurt Vonnegut and even Dodie Smith.

The charm (and indeed, strangeness) of the book lies in the faith a reader is willing to have in Morwenna's perception of her life. She seems almost too good to be true — she's smart and practical — whether its gender, sexuality or even her drunken father's clumsy, rather disturbing sudden affections. Everything about her points to an entirely stable, reliable narrator, yet one who talks of magic, spells and fairies just as easily as she talks of the books she has borrowed from the library. It is an entirely strange situation — knowing Walton's oeuvre (which includes Tooth and Claw, a dragon novel written as a sort of Victorian romance), it is unlikely that she meant for the fantasy element in the book to be implicit, yet here is Morwenna saying, "think of this as a memoir. Think of it as one of those memoirs that's later discredited to everyone's horror because the writer lied". But even when magic is on the surface, it is a gentle glistening web encompassing the narrative and never weighing it down.

Among Others

(NOVEL)

By Jo Walton

Tor Publishing, US

ISBN 0765331721

304pp. $14


EB

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Much talked movie the "Lincoln" review



Much talked movie the Lincoln 

His tall frame silhouetted in the distance, a man physically bent by the weariness of what he believes to be morally imperative, Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the United States occupies a 19th century rustic, candle-lit White House.

Steven Spielberg's "Lincoln" paints a masterful portrait of America's most endeared president during a time of deep moral crisis — a president trying to hold together a country that is tearing at its seams.

Daniel Day-Lewis delivers a stunning performance, in a role it now feels he was genetically programmed to play. His voice is a whisper of a quiver and carries the pain and agony of a man physically bruised by the weight of what he believes to be genuinely wrong.

"Lincoln" begins with a quick depiction of the Civil War, as men with muskets and bayonets fight hand to hand in the mud and gore. It doesn't have the gut wrenching blockbuster gravitas ala "Saving Private Ryan" but it gives the requisite sense of time and place.

Spielberg does not give the audience a chronological biography of Lincoln as president. In fact what is truly the master stroke of this movie is what is not shown.

There are references to the Civil War, mentions of the Gettysburg address, and the eventual coup de grace at Ford Theatre, but all of it happens off camera. Spielberg has made the conscious decision to focus on what was Lincoln's greatest accomplishment —the abolition of slavery.

"If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong," Lincoln is credited to have said. And we see this come to life in Tony Kushner's brilliant screenplay, an adaptation of Doris Kearns Goodwin's "Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln."

The film artfully captures the dilemma Lincoln faced in the waning months of his presidency: To bring an end to the war and to abolish the save trade once and for all.

And even though the goal that consumed him wore on him, Spielberg shows that the lawyer-turned-politician had the political savvy to navigate the political wheeling and dealing he knew he was going have to endure if he was to win over the anti-abolitionist and intransigent Democrats in the House of Representatives.

Spielberg's "Lincoln" is about the process of the American political system and the often cynical cunning it requires to master it. It's a Lincoln we've never seen.

It is all the more fascinating given the deeply polarized political climate in America today, and the reversal of roles of the two parties as Republicans fight tooth and nail to oppose a Democratic black president in Barack Obama.

But more than anything, the genius of Spielberg is his humanizing of an American icon.

Day-Lewis's portrayal coupled with Kushner's prose, takes Lincoln the historical figure and turns him into a person we can all realistically imagine — a man of wit, grace and wisdom.

One of the more humourous moments of the movie is when the president quips, "I could write shorter sermons but when I get started I'm too lazy to stop," as he jokes with members of his cabinet.

It has almost become banal to laud Day-Lewis for any character he plays, because he makes it look so easy. It's like Mozart playing a symphony, or Baryshnikov dancing on stage. His channeling of Honest Abe though clears even those lofty expectations. His ability to assume whole identities has become almost alchemical if not paranormal.

But apart from Day-Lewis there are some stellar performances, especially from Tommy Lee Jones, as the Pennsylvania "Radical Republican" Thaddeus Stevens who delivers one the film's highlight moments extolling a senator from Ohio.

Sally Field brings believability to the quirky, if not slightly loony, Mary Todd Lincoln, while Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Lincoln's eldest son, Robert, failed to really establish himself and came off as more of a tangential character to give the film some breathing room away from the crux of the movie.

Lincoln depicts a turning point in America's history, and Spielberg takes us to the eye of the storm, and the man who stood tall in the face of staunch opposition willing to sacrifice anything for doing what he believed was a moral obligation. It's a lesson in statesmanship and a lesson in the chess game that is American politics.

With 12 Oscar nominations already in the bag, "Lincoln" is without doubt going to be an award season favourite. And if I were Danial Day-Lewis I'd be making some space on my mantelpiece for another golden statue.


EB

Saturday, 1 December 2012

'Love affair and frustration' the main theme of 'Talash'

Review  :
8:49 AM, DECEMBER 01, 2012
Image Title

Talaash
Direction: Reema Kagti
Actors: Aamir Khan, Kareena Kapoor, Rani Mukherji
Rating: ***

To watch Talaash is to embark on a passionate love affair that ends in frustration because the object of your desire reveals itself to be shallow and depressingly ordinary. In short, a profound anti-climax.

If I sound like a woman cheated, it's only because I was so invested in Reema Kagti's suspense drama. The film has one of the most terrific first hours I've seen this year. It's taut, twisty and absolutely thrilling. Reema creates a wonderfully textured and atmospheric portrait of Mumbai, where neon lights and garish make-up just barely disguise the hollowness within. And the story, co-written by Reema and Zoya Akhtar had me hooked from the first frame.

A famous actor drives his expensive car into the Arabian Sea. Inspector Shekhawat is called in to investigate. The tough-talking cop, played by Aamir Khan, is actually a walking wound. His son died in a tragic accident and Shekhawat blames himself for it. He is haunted by his actions - the things he did and, more painfully, the things he didn't do. His wife, Roshni, played by Rani Mukherji, finds solace in secret conversations with her dead son through a medium.

Shekhawat immerses himself in the case of the drowned actor. But just when it seems like they've reached a dead end, a tantalisingly seductive prostitute named Rosie, played by Kareena Kapoor, provides a clue. She continues to help and their relationship becomes more entangled. At one point, Rosie looks at the cop and says: 'Pyaar ho gaya kya mujhse, saheb?'

Talaash had me in a vice-like grip till the interval. And then, the curse of the second-half struck like lightning. The explanation of the deliciously intriguing mystery was so lame that I refused to believe it. I hoped that Reema and Zoya would spring one final twist on us and redeem the film. But sadly, that never happened.

Still, there are so many things to admire in Talaash. Reema and Zoya have written layered characters and all three lead actors are first-rate. Aamir, Rani and Kareena work beautifully off each other. Each one creates such a palpable sense of ache and damage.

The dialogue by Farhan Akhtar, with additional work by Anurag Kashyap, is perfectly pitched. Ram Sampath's mournful music underlines the melancholy. And the strange fascination that the cop develops for the prostitute is mesmerising.

I enjoyed these characters so much that I demand another film for Shekhawat, Roshni and Rosie. This one didn't serve them well enough.

For once, I also feel the need to explain my rating: I wanted to give four stars to the first half and two stars to the second half, so it averages out to three. See Talaash and do post comments. I'm curious to see how many were as furious as me.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Student of the Year, Movie review



Young, good-looking, high schoolers in love and competition – with each other and the eponymous title/award. 
Excuse me, but, Shah Rukh who?
Karan Johar’s new half-sparkly, romantic Bolly-fable about high school love and antipathy, may be his first directed film that sidelines Shah Rukh Khan in favor of younger, bare-chested youngsters; and it may (partially) hark back to his debut “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai” (with an overarching shadow of “Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar”); and it may feature SRK’s co-production stamp (the film is co-produced by SRK’s wife and Johar’s friend Gauri Khan) – but what it doesn’t do is ramble on pomposity, or worrisome self-consciousness.
Student of the Year – SOTY – is Johar’s clean-break from his gradually maturing mindset (re: the warped family break-up drama “Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna” and the flaky political statement “My Name is Khan”), and boy, is it woozy, fresh, if somewhat unoriginal. But that doesn’t actually bother Johar – and he doesn’t let it pester you either.
Clocking in a typical-Bollywood 146 minutes, SOTY’s screenplay (by Rensil D’silva and dialogues by Niranjan Iyengar) rakes in character development, drive, and half-remixed sound-track, into a pitch-perfect starring vehicle for his debuting trio. Two of whom are Sidharth Malhotra (as Abhimanyu “Abhi” Singh) and David Dhawan’s son, Varun Dhawan (playing Rohan “Ro” Nanda). These chiseled-bodied, soft-hearted leads start off as enemies, become friends, graduate into frenemies over the McGuffin that’s the eponymous, school competition.
The third leading-debut is their mutual love-interest, Shanaya (Alia Bhatt, once-director, now producer Mahesh Bhatt’s daughter) – a dolled-up rich babe, who is the desire of every boy and the jealously of every other babe in school (we don’t get to see that either).
Shanaya, although is the lead who gets to disco, boogie and twirl in almost all the film’s musical numbers, her “Ishq Wala Love”, is simply a picturesque wall-decoration. SOTY is less interested in telling a love story; it instead tries to win-over a persistent, if-uneasy, bromance fable.
Abhi, the underdog, is a career-oriented youngster who gets into the upmarket, semi-swanky St. Teresa’s High School on a sports scholarship. Ro is the son of alumi-turned-tycoon (Ram Kapoor); semi-spoiled, seeking his father’s adoration (he gets put-down often), he is the black-sheep who dreams of having a career as a pop/rock artist. Ro’s longtime girlfriend is Shanaya, born to indifferent, rich parents, who push her to maintain her class-conscious relationship.
There are no initial sparks between Abhi and Shanaya, but they do get it on in a Malaysian wedding trip (actually one of the film’s many excuses to undress the leads, splash them in dripping water for slow-mo beauty shots); And then of course, the Student of the Year competition is initiated by Dean Yoginder Vasisht (Rishi Kapoor, effortless and charismatic, innocently pining after film’s happily-married college coach Ronit Roy) which turns them – and the film’s supporting cast – into enemies.
This group of friends and lackies are – superficially – your usual fodder. The slutty cheerleader is Sana Saeed (who played SRK’s daughter in “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai”). Shanaya’s “bff” is played by Mansi Rachh, a tomboy with a semi-prominent drive that matures with the film’s duration. The bespectacled geek is SODO, played by Kayoze Irani (Boman Irani’s son, who may be epitomizing some of Johar’s personal anguish). And finally there’s Sahil Anand, who plays Ro’s lackey.
What’s consistent about Johar’s filmmaking is that he scales and balances weight on his leads and their supporting actors. So, when Fareeda Jalal enters the movie as Abhi’s grandmother (he lives with his uncle and aunt, after his parents died), we believe that she’s his emotional center .
SOTY’s hardly visible plot, is slickly decorated around big, glossy sets and an immediately hummable music by Vishal-Shekhar, who meld their style with the Karan Johar-touch, incorporating “Yeh Chand Sa Roshan Chehra”, “Gulabi Aankhen” and Nazia Hasan’s “Disco Deewane” with renewed juice (watch out for Rishi Kapoor doing a “Dafli Walay” routine in “Radha”, one of the star-songs of the movie; the other star-song is “Ratta Maar”).
SOTY is auteurism at work. There’s a bold, visible sign at the door that says: “Hassle-free, escapist entertainment. Park your incisive, over-assessing criticisms at the door, and enjoy that bag of expensive pop-corn you just bought!”

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Gender swap, 'The end of Men' by Hanna Rosin

Twenty-first century has marked number of huge incidents so far, which are indeed surprising and worth remembering. Some are even bigger than their apparent mention. But one change is not only surprising but also inevitable. And this is 'gender swap'. And very interesting too. Women are replacing men in all big fields. Take it commerce, banking, media, astrology, doctorate, even fish farming and event managements, women are not only successful but also making lots of money.

A new book that's getting lots of attention, a journalist is trying to prove that this fiction has become a reality. In The End of Men: And the Rise of Women, Hanna Rosin argues that changes in the world economy have dramatically shifted gender roles. Women have adapted more skillfully to the new socioeconomic landscape by doggedly pursuing self-improvement opportunities, rebranding as the economy requires it, and above all possessing the kind of 21st century work attributes — such as strong communication skills, collaborative leadership and flexibility — that are nudging out the brawny, stuck-in-amber guys. Rock steadiness, long a cherished masculine trait, turns out to be about as useful in our fleet-footed economy as a flint arrowhead. Life favors the adapters, and it turns out they're more likely to be women.
Rosin is a gifted storyteller with a talent for ferreting out volumes of illustrative data, and she paints a compelling picture of the ways women are ascendant: women comprise the majority of undergraduate and graduate students on campuses nationwide and are outstripping men for professional degrees; newly employed single women are actually making more money than single men; women seem to have more ambition and a better ability to plan for the future. Moreover, as women gain more financial and cultural power, rates of teen pregnancy, violence and other bad outcomes have dropped. (There may be too much of a good thing: alarmingly, Rosin points to evidence that women may themselves become more violent toward men as they assume the cultural profile of traditional manhood.)

She's even sanguine about college hookup culture, claiming that young women are pretty happy with the crude status quo; they don't want to make any commitments that would jeopardize their career prospects and are willing to forgo what one forlorn undergraduate described as "someone to take me for a frozen yogurt" to avoid being trapped by an early marriage. We ourselves aren't so sure about this point since, from our perspective, the decline of college dating (which hasn't led automatically to marriage since the 1950s, by the way) denies both young women and men an opportunity to practice relationship skills they'll need in order to find long-term partners later. And it's hard to imagine why anyone tolerates the strikingly retro imbalance of sexual satisfaction (to wit: ability to reach orgasm) that accompanies casual hookup culture.
But while The End of Men captures a profound change in our cultural zeitgeist, one still has to wonder: Why are the relations between men and women still portrayed as a zero-sum game? Why do we need to establish who is winning and losing the war? So much of the coverage of gender issues — indeed the book's cover title itself — pits women and men against one another. In this way, Rosin, who mainly eschews biological explanations for gender differences, still cleaves to a binary characterization of men and women: when one is up, the other must be down. But history suggests that society is better served, and not only economically, when we see men and women engaged in cooperation rather than pitched battle.

When we see one sex as "on top," it makes it harder to recognize the downsides. American women are clearly having their "moment," but, as Rosin notes, their higher powers have resulted in bigger anxieties and more unhappiness than 40 years ago. That's a bitter pill for feminism. Rosin attributes the problem to women's inability to cede authority and delegate household responsibilities to their partners, but that explanation assumes they even have partners. We know that many women are single mothers, in precarious financial straits trying to keep their families afloat without a glimpse of any kind of man in the picture. They have achieved a new sense of autonomy, Rosin notes, that has undoubtedly contributed to declining levels of sexual violence. But they're hardly the fierce amazons we'd like to imagine.

Even the relatively equal and reportedly strong marriages of the educated class — the stable unions where financial and family responsibilities are traded off over the course of a marriage — show some chinks: experts put estimates of sexless marriages as high as 15% to 20%.
There is something else inescapable with this kind of dichotomy: if it is O.K. for women to be seen as superior in some regards, it's also O.K. for men to be seen as superior in others. That's not an argument about how women and men are "meant" to be, innately or in some ultimate, unchanging sense. But surely we can be honest with ourselves about what we see in front of us at a given moment in time, whether we are talking about rates of murder or rates of admission to graduate engineering programs. Former Harvard president Larry Summers was excoriated for his hypotheses about women and science and mathematics (mainly by people who had not carefully read his remarks), but one wonders if Summers had said something positive about women rather than men whether his remarks would have been noted at all. A world in which men and women are seen in opposition means that whenever we say a nice thing about one gender, we must be saying something bad about the other. But that is not the sort of world that helps us address complex problems, and it's not the sort of world most of us would want to inhabit.

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Sunday, 9 September 2012

Sex Story : Fifty Shades of Grey, story and general view

fifty shades of grey
I am sure you would be excited to know about the story. as was I, when I heard of this book.
e.l. james_ the author
Well, the story is a mixture of few things, One, fantasy of a woman ( which is of course the author herself ),in her imagination or a dream of meeting an ideal man, rich, intelligent and beautiful. So she expresses her feeling through out the story.
Second, author's inspirations from old, romantic literature. Clearly visible in the story that the author's style and inspiration has come from old romantic literature. So yes, she adopts exactly the same style.
Third, the selection of classical music, which the hero billionaire Christian Grey, plays when in deep terrance makes us think of love, romance and ecstasy. Again indicates the same thing that its a love story.
So before you purchase the book, keep in mind these three points. And if you don't have interest in romantic fiction, this book may disappoint you, since the book is well stretched on exotic canvas. In addition, people with intellectual taste may find the book just a time pass. Rightly so, because as i mentioned earlier, the love story is overly mentioned on the parameters off erotic sex. Again, lust, passion and sexual desire is all it talks about.
Let me not speak all against the book. The good part of the book is, the undaunted and equivocal flow of imagination and emotions, which keeps the read well knitted till the last page.
The trilogy has sold 31 million copies worldwide, overtaking Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and The Da Vinci Code in Britain, because it tells a simple love story.

Story :
It is a tale of erotic obsession so racy that James fans know it as "mummy porn".
The story goes as , a literature student Anastasia Steele goes to interview young entrepreneur Christian Grey, she encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant, and intimidating. The unworldly, innocent Ana is startled to realize she wants this man and, despite his enigmatic reserve, finds she is desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana's quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her, too—but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey's singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success—his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving family—Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionately physical affair, Ana discovers Christian Grey's secrets and explores her own dark desires.
Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever.

About the Author :
The author - EL James real name is Erika Mitchell - The 49-year-old writer is a former TV executive, wife and mother of two based in West London. James is married to Niall Leonard, a fellow writer, and has two teenage sons. Sadly, her own marriage does not quite live up to the pages of one her novels. Leonard's first Christmas present to her was a tin-opener. "A tin opener! Jesus Christ on a bicycle. He never made that mistake again, trust me."
Asked if she had ever met a man in real-life who resembled Christian Grey, she sighed: "Oh, I wish."
The next Book :
James said her next book is likely to be a sequel written from Christian Grey's point of view.

My Rating :
2.8/5.

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Wednesday, 5 September 2012

'Fifty Shades of Grey' no longer tops ebook chart

fifty shades of grey
E L James' third installment of the Fifty Shades trilogy has lost out the top spot on the Kindle best-selling ebook chart to a sweet literary romance about a group of dog walkers.

'Monday To Friday Man' is the fourth novel and seventh book from Hammersmith-based dog lover Alice Peterson, 38, a former professional tennis player who turned to writing after her promising athletic career was prematurely curtailed at the age of 18, when she was left wheelchair-bound by rheumatoid arthritis.

Her new book was inspired by the close friends she has made on her daily walks with her Lucas Terrier Mr Darcy (named after Jane Austen's character in Pride And Prejudice) in Ravenscourt Park.

Having sold 500,000 copies since its release on July 21, the book has now been in the top 100 of the Amazon Kindle book list for 89 days, the Daily Mail reported.

It has held pole position on the ebooks list for two weeks, relegating Ealing-based James' 'Fifty Shades Freed' to second place.

Meanwhile, the first two installments in James' bonkbuster trio are currently fourth and fifth on Kindle's best-seller list.

Peterson's charming, gentle (and S and M-free) novel is a world away from Christian Grey and his Red Room of Pain.

Instead, this author draws on the world of dog-walking, telling the tale of Gilly Brown, a 34-year-old bride who is jilted just two weeks before her wedding.

With just her little dog Ruskin for company, she decides to take a Monday to Friday lodger.

Peterson is selling her book for 20 pence on Kindle, compared to 3.47 pounds for 'Fifty Shades Free.'

Speaking to the Evening Standard about her novel Peterson said: "It's a lovely story and not really heavy weather. I really enjoyed Fifty Shades but it's pure fantasy.

"I would imagine that most people who read it have lives far removed from it, so there is still room for a reality book, a romance, like mine," she added.

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Saturday, 1 September 2012

Second “Hobbit” movie gets new name

hobbit movie poster
LOS ANGELES: The third film in the upcoming "Hobbit" movie trilogy will be released worldwide in July 2014, the movie studios behind the venture said on Friday, and the second film now has a new name.
The third film – "The Hobbit: There and Back Again" – will open in movie theaters on July 18, 2014 – just seven months after the newly titled second film "The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug" arrives on December 13, 2013. The second film originally carried the "There and Back Again" title.
The first film, "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey" starring British actor Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins, has already been set for a December 14, 2012 opening.
Director Peter Jackson, Time Warner Inc's Warner Bros. and New Line Cinema, and MGM announced in July that the 3D-film adaptation of the classic novel by J.R.R. Tolkien would be split into three films rather than the two originally envisaged.
Warner Bros. executives said they believed the third movie would play well in the summer – the most lucrative period for the movie industry and the launch pad for action-packed blockbusters.
"We wanted to have a shorter gap between the second and third films of 'The Hobbit' trilogy. Opening in July affords us not only the perfect summer tentpole, but fans will have less time to wait for the finale of this epic adventure," Dan Fellman, president of domestic distribution at Warner Bros. said in a statement.
"The Hobbit" is the prequel to Tolkien's epic fantasy "The Lord of the Rings" which Jackson made into three Oscar-winning films about 10 years ago.


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Wednesday, 29 August 2012

"Twilight" new part , "Breaking Dawn: Part 2"

robert pattinson and kristen stewart 
Actor Robert Pattinson will reportedly join ex-girlfriend Kristen Stewart on the red carpet of "Breaking Dawn: Part 2″ premiere. According to a report in Times of India.
Stewart cheated on Pattinson after being in a relationship for three years. But he wants to save her from the embarrassment of walking alone after the scandal.
"He's told movie bosses he'll walk the red carpet to save her from embarrassment and any female fans booing her," thesun.co.uk quoted a source as saying.
"He is being professional and taking the higher moral ground," the source added.
Stewart was caught cheating with her "Snow White And The Huntsman" director Rupert Sanders.
Pattinson, Stewart met on sets of movie "Twilight" in 2008.



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Thursday, 23 August 2012

“Leading from Behind" by Richard Miniter.


the book – "Leading from Behind: The Reluctant President and the Advisors Who Decide for Him" – also claimed that in August 2010, the ISI offered valuable information about bin Laden's hideout to the CIA.
On page 116, author Richard Miniter disputes US President Barack Obama's claim that he took a great political risk by ordering a strike into a compound near the Pakistan Military Academy, Kakul.
"Far from taking a risk, there are indications that a cover story had been developed with the Pakistani military and that Mr Obama had their tacit consent for the mission," he writes.
The author, a former reporter with The Washington Post and The Wall Street Journal, argues that "the Obama administration's account of Pakistan's role (in the operation) is misleading and incomplete."
The author also claims that Pakistan Army chief may have been briefed in December 2010 about the operation, five months before the night-time raid on bin Laden's concrete castle. "Pakistan was more involved in the bin Laden operation than Obama's team admitted," he argues.
Giving a "never-before-reported account" of the Abbottabad raid, the author writes: "When the CIA revealed that an ISI colonel had contacted the CIA in Islamabad and offered information about bin Laden, a debate followed.
"Was this a secret sign that the head of the ISI was pointing out bin Laden's hiding place or was the colonel actually the patriot who hated extremism that he claimed to be?"
Although Mr Miniter does not explain what information did the ISI provide, he notes that "the CIA found bin Laden's hiding place within a month of the colonel's visit" to its Islamabad office.
An official with "second hand knowledge of the White House discussion" on the operation tells the author that "there was talking about devising a cover story that would allow Pakistan to be helpful while keeping its leaders form political harm."
The story was that bin Laden was killed in a drone strike and that the US later sent in a SEAL team to recover the body.
"That was believed to be less politically harmful than a commando team treading on Pakistan's oil," told the author.
According to this official, when the Pakistan Army chief was alerted in December 2010, "no concrete facts about the operation were passed on, but an informal approval was sought."
When A US helicopter crashed into bin Laden's compound, the cover story was abandoned. The decision "completely … Pakistan" by leaving it alone to deal with the consequences of a hugely unpopular operation.
The author says that while he could not be independently confirm the information, "it has the virtue of explaining why the Obama administration did not press to end military aid to Pakistan when bin Laden was found 800 yards from its officer training facility."
The book also gives intriguing details about the walled-compound where bin Laden was hiding, which CIA analysts estimated cost well over $1 million to build. It had no telephone, Internet, cable-television, or electrical wires attached to it.
A CIA team gained access to Pakistan's official building-permit and ownership records. The paperwork indicated that the building permit for this specially constructed enclave was issued in 2005 and that bin Laden's courier, Omar al-Kuwaiti, was listed as the owner, under the name Arshad Khan. His brother Abrar was listed as a co-owner.
"The record held another surprise. The land for the bin Laden lair seemed to have been carved out of property owned by the Kakul Military Academy," Mr Miniter claims.
The book also disputes Obama administration's claim that the al-Qaeda leader was killed in a forty-minute fire-fight. "Few shots were fired and the mission was completed in less than twenty minutes."
As the elite US commando team, known as the SEALs, entered the compound, Omar al-Kuwaiti emerged with an AK-47 and was instantly felled by a single shot. The bullet passed through him and killed his wife, who was standing a few feet behind.
His brother Abrar would die within a minute when he, too, stepped out into the night with an automatic weapon.
The book also shows that while the Pakistani military claimed to have no knowledge of the operation until after it was over, OBL's neighbours were knocking at the door as soon as the raid began.
"With the gunshots and the helicopter crash, the neighbours appeared. In perfect Pashto, (a CIA) translator acted the art of a Pakistani policeman. "Go back to your houses. There is a security operation under way," he said.
Although the Pakistan Military Academy was only a 1,000 yards away from the compound, no military personnel came to enquire what was happening, not even after a helicopter crashed.
At 4:18 p.m. Washington time, the SEAL's finally reached bin Laden. Within two minutes bin Laden, his son and his protectors were dead."
The book also claims that key clues to bin Laden's hideout, especially the identity of the courier who was his main link to the outside world, were first uncovered in the Bush years.
The CIA found bin Laden's hideout in the first few months of the Obama administration. "Yet it took the president almost two years to make a decision to act on this valuable intelligence as he deliberated and delayed," says the author.
"Mr Obama was often disengaged as the bin Laden operation took shape; he left critical decisions to the then-CIA director Leon Panetta, then-Secretary of Defence Robert Gates and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Obama feared taking responsibility for a risky raid that might go tragically wrong."
A single call to al-Kuwaiti, lasting less than a minute, gave him away in 2009.
America's electronic sleuths were tracking al-Kuwaiti through his mobile phone. A technical team mapped the locations of every phone al-Kuwaiti made a call to or received a call from. It showed red dots all over Afghanistan and Pakistan.
A covert ground team eventually spotted al-Kuwaiti himself in the Bilal Town section of Abbottabad. He liked to roam the busy streets of Abbottabad in a white sport-utility vehicle, with a distinctive red rhino emblazoned on its spare tire cover. It made him easy to follow.
Within weeks al-Kuwaiti was tracked repeatedly entering and exiting a mysterious walled compound. Inside the protective walls was a three-story tower with concrete-block privacy walls screenings it balconies.
Mr Panetta had previously ordered surveillance by satellite and drone aircraft. In April 2009, a ground team also began an intense surveillance.
What if it was not OBL?  "It does not matter," Mr Panetta responded, "if it isn't bin Laden, then it's another very senior al-Qaeda leader."
Initially, a drone or a B-2 bomber cruise missile, Mrs Clinton and Mr Gates both supported but another closed Obama aide Valerie Jarrett, opposed.
An undercover ground team was sent into Abbottabad, and they soon learned there was another family living with the couriers and that the composition of that family matched bin Laden's.
The covert CIA team tried various ruses to learn the identity of the compound residents, including free door-to-door polio immunisation.
President Obama realised that an air strike could kill non-combatants, provoking enormous outrage in Pakistan.
In January 2010, President Obama ordered Vice Admiral Bill McRaven, a former Navy Seal, ran the Joint Special Operations Command, to develop a range of military operations. The SEALs' Team Six was formed but commander was not informed bin Laden was the target.
At a March 14, 2011 White House Situation Room, President Obama decided Pakistan should be kept in the dark while America made its plans.
Bombing was ruled out. "All it has to be is about 1,000 yards and it hits the Pakistan Military Academy," said a senior CIA official. Also, bombing would not produce conclusive evidence that bin Laden was dead.
President Obama's national security team was particularly worried about Pakistan. The allied government was always vocally opposed to operations on its soil, in that nation's press at least. Al-Qaeda and other extremist groups remained popular in Pakistan and parties allied with them ideologically usually commanded more than one-third of the vote in elections.
In private, Pakistan usually asked for some wiggle-room to deny knowing about a drone operation for internal political reasons.

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