RAJKUMAR Gowramma. GURUKIRAN Upendra. KOKILA H 2 O • AKASH 1285 (71:04)

All three films were available for review in the present instance. This is a nicely varied disc of soundtracks that works very well as a stand-alone listening experience but, as always, full enjoyment is to be gleaned by reference to the films themselves.

First, a remake. Gowramma is a 2005 remake of the Telugu hit Nuvvu Naaku Nakachav (which had music by Koti). James Reel gave a brief synopsis in Fanfare 29:6 and I also reviewed the film (on a different soundtrack disc) in Fanfare 30:5. The plot still strikes me as formulaic. The hero (Venky/Venkatesh, played by superstar Upendra) acts as a marriage broker and all-around good guy. His father wants him to do more than rural work and sends him to the city to stay with one of the father’s childhood friends. The daughter of this friend is Gowramma, who is already engaged to someone else. However, Venky and Gowramma slowly fall in love, and it is the twists and turns of this love that fuel the rest of the movie. The film is on an equal footing in terms of filmic excellence with Nuvvu.

There are five songs, supplemented by a “Remix Song” on the soundtrack disc. Rajkumar’s music can be high-octane, as the first song proves: “Kolthalallappo” (With her eyes she is killing me). Shankar Mahadevan is the playback singer. I can’t pretend I like the vocal rapping in the middle, but the rest of the piece works well. Both soundtrack and film are recorded in an up-front manner, although more detail seems to come through on the compact disc version. The duet “Ondu saari” is, again, upbeat, enlivened particularly by the voice of playback singer Chitra (incidentally, a short but informative interview with Chitra is available on the Web at http: //www.screenindia.com/old/feb27/music1.htm).

The lovely, solo piano intro to the wonderful “Baninda Jaari” (Are you the star that fell from the sky?), sung by the hero in front of a crowd to the blushing heroine, hails back to similar intros from old Hindi Bollywood movies, but moves in a very different and far more modern direction. The escapist “Akashakke Chappara” (Putting a tent to the sky) finds the hero telling a story to a group, and spied upon by the heroine. Hariharan is the expert vocalist. The main tune of this song stays in your head a long time, I found. Finally, “Naan Sona Sona” (My Gold! Gold!) is an idyllic duet, sung by Shreya Goshal and Kathik. It is DJ Anoop who has done the honors for the “Remix Song,” a fascinating electronic tapestry. It is difficult to tell whether the editors at Akash Audio have deliberately played with the word “fucking” in the interests of censorship or whether that was part of Anoop’s conception, although somehow I doubt the latter is the case.

The next movie showcased here is the 1999 film Upendra , which stars, naturally, Upendra, alongside Preema, Raveena, and Damini. The music director here is Gurukiran. As far as I can tell, he is thus far unreviewed in Fanfare , which is surprising given his standing. His full name is Gurukiran Shetty. His music for the film entitled simply A was his first success; this was his second. I confess I loved this movie. It begins with a bizarre, horror-movie scene. Raveena Tandon plays the heroine Keerthi, while Dhamini (Rathi) and Prema (Swathi) are supporting actresses. The film explores, in ways I couldn’t fully do justice to in print, the many aspects of selfishness. There is some stunning acting from the actresses, who have to show various degrees of degradation. The film is full of power, and so is the music. There are only four songs on the soundtrack. “Masthu Masthu” (A fantastic girl has come) is the first, and actually the last one seen in the film. Set in what looks like an unused warehouse, a group of rowdies (including the hero) sings a drink-fueled party song (delivered on the soundtrack by “Mano”). The strength of the song lies in the simplicity of its materials and the composer’s block-like manipulation of them. “2000AD Ladiye” (2000AD Lady) is best experienced away from the screen (there are too many quick camera pans in and out), but it has a charm musically. The second song on the film is called “MTV Subbulakshmi,” but on the CD is called “Olu Bari Olu” (Only useless stuff). Actually the latter line precedes the first in the song. It is a song meant to impress the girl and is actually of a higher general caliber than “2000AD Ladiye,” which tends to sag in inspiration. Finally, “Uppigintha Ruchi,” a macho song that showcases the hero’s popularity and indestructibility (the first line, bizarrely, is “There’s nothing tastier than salt”).

Finally, a film called H 2 O , reviewed by my colleague Pradeep Sebastian in Fanfare 30:6. This was a controversial film (Sebastian gives the background in his review: a Kannadiga and a Tamilian fall in love with the same woman. Romeo and Juliet springs to mind). It stars Upendra, who also was responsible for the story and the screenplay. Also starring are Prabhudev and Priyanka. The film is beautifully atmospheric, but at the same time has a rawness and, to put it mildly, an unsettling unpredictability that climaxes at the film’s end. Putting the final scene into words simply would not do it justice. As an example of just how far Indian cinema can go from American or European cinema, this H 2 is perfect. The only corollary I can think of to the film’s conclusion is the end of the Donald Sutherland/Julie Christie film, Don’t Look Now . But the parallel works only with the end. H 2 O is huge in its remit and in its sweep.

Unfortunately, only four of the six songs of the film make it to the soundtrack. We hear first a duet, “Bidabeda Bidabeda” (Cutie! Sweetie!), sung by Hariharan and Upendra, that is a compendium of effects and swings manically between saccharine sweet melody and primal beat. “Dil Ilde Love” (One can’t live without heart) is rather disturbing. It sounds like it is a 45-rpm disc played at 33 rpm, and is all the more macabre for it, before suddenly it exits “reality” into a fantasy world. More of the historic fantasy for “I want to kiss” (sung by Rajesh and Prathima Rao), with a shipload of rhymes thrown in for good measure. Finally, “Hoove Hoove” (Flower, flower), a nice, conservative number with which to end, exquisitely sung by Kavitha Krishnamurthy. Do try to see this film, though—massive in its outlook, full of twists and turns, endlessly fascinating. Colin Clarke