(!) "Cease your churlish resistance!" (!)
Posted: Tue Jun 02, 2009 11:36 pm
A new Indian place opened up nearby, and since I haven't had any Indian grub in awhile I decided to go try it.
Don't worry, this won't be another food/restaurant discussion. Nope, this one's going to be about the genius that is Bollywood, which produces some of the absolute funniest shit you'll ever see.
For those of you who don't know, Bollywood is the nickname of the Indian cinema industry, which, so I'm told, actually dwarfs American cinema, purely in terms of films and tv shows produced. With 1.1 billion people just in India, plus another seventy three billiion Indians living elsewhere around the globe, mainly here in California, yeah, I guess they be some movie watchin' fools.
I order my food and then I go and sit down at my table, intending to read my book. That's what I do. I like to read for about an hour, before and after my meal.
Well, in this case, I never got to my book. I was simply too enthralled by what I saw on the giant flat screen tv behind the counter.
Fuck, I wish PSU was there to witness it. He would've died laughing.
Here's the deal. They were showing some Indian action adventure/all around entertainment flick, involving some hilariously cornball Sikh Leading Man who was trying to, lessee here....
-Use some sort of weird Will Ferrell shtick to bag the Impossibly Hot Leading Lady. (More about her, later.)
-Catch a vaguely Indian looking terrorist. He was swarthy looking, and constantly sweaty, whatever his ethnicity.
-Endure non-stop threats of severe ass whoopings from Rack Fu and his incredibly retarded FBI cohorts, whose menacing interrogation tactics mainly involved pointing pointedly at dude's chest.
-Preen and cavort, including lots of "Check out the gun show, babe!" episodes where he'd flex and tap his bicep while leering like a goon at Impossibly Hot Leading Lady.
-Dance, dance, dance his days and nights away.
-Break into song, completely inexplicably, along with Impossibly Hot Leading Lady (hereafter to be known as IHLL), both of whose voices would suddenly and completely change, every time they'd sing.
The fun with this movie started with the way it was presented. I've never seen anything like it. The characters bounced back and forth between speaking English and Hindi. I don't mean they were dubbed, either. No, first the actors would speak in Hindi, then, oddly, they'd switch to English. The same actors. They weren't repeating themselves, either.
That was kinda weird, but it wasn't half as fantastic as the actual things they were saying, and the accompanying subtitles. I guess because the movie kept switching languages all the time they felt the need to subtitle the whole shootin' match. They'd be speaking in English and still we'd get English subtitles. They'd be speaking in Hindi and still we'd get English subtitles.
Wtf??
Oh, man, those subtitles were hilarious. They were far funnier than even the most horribly dubbed Chop Socky kung fu flick you've ever seen.
Here are some examples, during the funniest interrogation scene ever, with a comical looking FBI agent (his flamboyant mullet and ill fitting plaid sport coat had to be seen to be believed) going Jack Bauer on Indian Super Dork (ISD). IHLL is there too, looking suitably distresed and crazily fetching.
First, I'll give you what the character actually said, un-dubbed, in English. Next, in itallics, the accomanying subtitle. Keep in mind, it wasn't just the subtitles that were hilarious. The un-dubbed dialogue was nearly as meaty and satisfying....
Agent Fu: "The FBI is the stone cold best security agency in the world! You fear us!"
"The FBI is a cracker jack excellent police force. Upon reflection, you quake in terror over their presence."
ISD: "You Americans may rule the world, but India does not bark! I will abscond myself with this terror man! You watch. I am invincible!"
"America is omnipotent. India is also wonderfully thriving. I will persecute all bad men, and you will bear witness to my Indian heroism."
This one, though, this one flat out floored me....
Agent Fu: "Knock it off! You jerk! You dummy!"
"Cease your churlish resistance!"
It was fucking amazing. One piece of otherworldy dialogue after another, both in fact and in the subtitles. It was neck-and-neck, as to which was the funnier.
Another cool thing is the way they identify the Bad Guys. In this flick, all the bad guys were super easy to spot. They all sweated like pigs, for no apparent reason, and they all had full-on Michael Strahan gaps between their front teeth. They also all growled, literally growled, most of their two and three word lines.
The sudden camera zoom in, nearly to their retinas, like the final "stand off" scene in The Good, The Bad And The Ugly, that was a subtle touch too. The Bad Guys had positively feral eyes, and really oily pores, each one of 'em, and they never blink.
They're just completely pissed off, non-stop.
I never thought I would say this about anything, but for Sheer Hottie Factor Bollywood may actually have the beating of Channel 34 Telemundo style Spanish language tv.
Spanish channel soaps and game shows are simply resplendent in beautiful female flesh, shamelessly displayed. For no reason at all, the women in Spanish tv always wear cleavage heaving evening gowns to every catfight. They have a lot of catfights, too.
Still, they're mere pikers, compared to these Bollywood movie sluts.
IHLL, that chick was so goddamn exotically perfect and so audacious in her sexiness that she'd make most hookers blush.
I only watched about twenty or thirty minutes of this show, but during that short time IHLL inexplicably ripped open her sizzling hot skintight dress FOUR TIMES, simply in order to pose, mock or tease; each time, she'd be wearing an even more ludicrous set of bordello lingerie.
ISD would be berating her, calling her a whore, right in the middle of a busy city street. He was always caling her a whore. He'd call her a whore, and then he'd say how nice her body is, and she'd say, "Body?"
He'd respond, "Yes! Body!" and then, wtf, he'd begin to flex and do the gun show thing, right there in the middle of the street.
She'd then rip open her dress, stick out her hip and cup her breasts, mocking him.
"THIS body?" she'd say, and he'd respond by preening some more and touching his bicep again. She'd then turn around and pooch out her ass, and she'd sneer at him from between her splayed open thighs.
"I am not a whore! I have a body!" she'd say (huh?), as she stood there running her painted nails up and down the cleft of her ass. She's still bent at the waist, her dress long gone, having blown away down the street when she ripped it open.
Four times she did this, where she'd just rip her dress open and begin exposing and touching herself, just to make a complete non sequitur point.
Then it would get weird. Out of nowhere, they'd begin singing to each other, right there on the street, only their voices suddenly became those of Mr and Mrs Satan Lucifer. They'd be singing along, and suddenly their voices would sound like one of those "Cookie Monster" vocals from your favorite death metal bands....
"Bwoooooaooarrrrrrhhhhh!!!"
Hers, too, even. She starts off with this angelic voice, pure silk, and then, out of the blue, she becomes James Hetfield.
Then they stop singing, and they literally skip away, holding their swinging hands as they blow right through congested traffic.
She's still wearing nothing but high heels, sheer panties, a sexy bra and a smile.
The whole thing was campier than the gayest John Waters flick. Everything about it, except for the completely modern clothes and overall hotness of the women, was a good fifty years behind the times. Everything was that corny.
I guarantee you, you wouldn't have been able to turn away. Funniest half hour of tv...ever.
For all that, now I'm burping lamb vindaloo. That's a fair trade.
Don't worry, this won't be another food/restaurant discussion. Nope, this one's going to be about the genius that is Bollywood, which produces some of the absolute funniest shit you'll ever see.
For those of you who don't know, Bollywood is the nickname of the Indian cinema industry, which, so I'm told, actually dwarfs American cinema, purely in terms of films and tv shows produced. With 1.1 billion people just in India, plus another seventy three billiion Indians living elsewhere around the globe, mainly here in California, yeah, I guess they be some movie watchin' fools.
I order my food and then I go and sit down at my table, intending to read my book. That's what I do. I like to read for about an hour, before and after my meal.
Well, in this case, I never got to my book. I was simply too enthralled by what I saw on the giant flat screen tv behind the counter.
Fuck, I wish PSU was there to witness it. He would've died laughing.
Here's the deal. They were showing some Indian action adventure/all around entertainment flick, involving some hilariously cornball Sikh Leading Man who was trying to, lessee here....
-Use some sort of weird Will Ferrell shtick to bag the Impossibly Hot Leading Lady. (More about her, later.)
-Catch a vaguely Indian looking terrorist. He was swarthy looking, and constantly sweaty, whatever his ethnicity.
-Endure non-stop threats of severe ass whoopings from Rack Fu and his incredibly retarded FBI cohorts, whose menacing interrogation tactics mainly involved pointing pointedly at dude's chest.
-Preen and cavort, including lots of "Check out the gun show, babe!" episodes where he'd flex and tap his bicep while leering like a goon at Impossibly Hot Leading Lady.
-Dance, dance, dance his days and nights away.
-Break into song, completely inexplicably, along with Impossibly Hot Leading Lady (hereafter to be known as IHLL), both of whose voices would suddenly and completely change, every time they'd sing.
The fun with this movie started with the way it was presented. I've never seen anything like it. The characters bounced back and forth between speaking English and Hindi. I don't mean they were dubbed, either. No, first the actors would speak in Hindi, then, oddly, they'd switch to English. The same actors. They weren't repeating themselves, either.
That was kinda weird, but it wasn't half as fantastic as the actual things they were saying, and the accompanying subtitles. I guess because the movie kept switching languages all the time they felt the need to subtitle the whole shootin' match. They'd be speaking in English and still we'd get English subtitles. They'd be speaking in Hindi and still we'd get English subtitles.
Wtf??
Oh, man, those subtitles were hilarious. They were far funnier than even the most horribly dubbed Chop Socky kung fu flick you've ever seen.
Here are some examples, during the funniest interrogation scene ever, with a comical looking FBI agent (his flamboyant mullet and ill fitting plaid sport coat had to be seen to be believed) going Jack Bauer on Indian Super Dork (ISD). IHLL is there too, looking suitably distresed and crazily fetching.
First, I'll give you what the character actually said, un-dubbed, in English. Next, in itallics, the accomanying subtitle. Keep in mind, it wasn't just the subtitles that were hilarious. The un-dubbed dialogue was nearly as meaty and satisfying....
Agent Fu: "The FBI is the stone cold best security agency in the world! You fear us!"
"The FBI is a cracker jack excellent police force. Upon reflection, you quake in terror over their presence."
ISD: "You Americans may rule the world, but India does not bark! I will abscond myself with this terror man! You watch. I am invincible!"
"America is omnipotent. India is also wonderfully thriving. I will persecute all bad men, and you will bear witness to my Indian heroism."
This one, though, this one flat out floored me....
Agent Fu: "Knock it off! You jerk! You dummy!"
"Cease your churlish resistance!"
It was fucking amazing. One piece of otherworldy dialogue after another, both in fact and in the subtitles. It was neck-and-neck, as to which was the funnier.
Another cool thing is the way they identify the Bad Guys. In this flick, all the bad guys were super easy to spot. They all sweated like pigs, for no apparent reason, and they all had full-on Michael Strahan gaps between their front teeth. They also all growled, literally growled, most of their two and three word lines.
The sudden camera zoom in, nearly to their retinas, like the final "stand off" scene in The Good, The Bad And The Ugly, that was a subtle touch too. The Bad Guys had positively feral eyes, and really oily pores, each one of 'em, and they never blink.
They're just completely pissed off, non-stop.
I never thought I would say this about anything, but for Sheer Hottie Factor Bollywood may actually have the beating of Channel 34 Telemundo style Spanish language tv.
Spanish channel soaps and game shows are simply resplendent in beautiful female flesh, shamelessly displayed. For no reason at all, the women in Spanish tv always wear cleavage heaving evening gowns to every catfight. They have a lot of catfights, too.
Still, they're mere pikers, compared to these Bollywood movie sluts.
IHLL, that chick was so goddamn exotically perfect and so audacious in her sexiness that she'd make most hookers blush.
I only watched about twenty or thirty minutes of this show, but during that short time IHLL inexplicably ripped open her sizzling hot skintight dress FOUR TIMES, simply in order to pose, mock or tease; each time, she'd be wearing an even more ludicrous set of bordello lingerie.
ISD would be berating her, calling her a whore, right in the middle of a busy city street. He was always caling her a whore. He'd call her a whore, and then he'd say how nice her body is, and she'd say, "Body?"
He'd respond, "Yes! Body!" and then, wtf, he'd begin to flex and do the gun show thing, right there in the middle of the street.
She'd then rip open her dress, stick out her hip and cup her breasts, mocking him.
"THIS body?" she'd say, and he'd respond by preening some more and touching his bicep again. She'd then turn around and pooch out her ass, and she'd sneer at him from between her splayed open thighs.
"I am not a whore! I have a body!" she'd say (huh?), as she stood there running her painted nails up and down the cleft of her ass. She's still bent at the waist, her dress long gone, having blown away down the street when she ripped it open.
Four times she did this, where she'd just rip her dress open and begin exposing and touching herself, just to make a complete non sequitur point.
Then it would get weird. Out of nowhere, they'd begin singing to each other, right there on the street, only their voices suddenly became those of Mr and Mrs Satan Lucifer. They'd be singing along, and suddenly their voices would sound like one of those "Cookie Monster" vocals from your favorite death metal bands....
"Bwoooooaooarrrrrrhhhhh!!!"
Hers, too, even. She starts off with this angelic voice, pure silk, and then, out of the blue, she becomes James Hetfield.
Then they stop singing, and they literally skip away, holding their swinging hands as they blow right through congested traffic.
She's still wearing nothing but high heels, sheer panties, a sexy bra and a smile.
The whole thing was campier than the gayest John Waters flick. Everything about it, except for the completely modern clothes and overall hotness of the women, was a good fifty years behind the times. Everything was that corny.
I guarantee you, you wouldn't have been able to turn away. Funniest half hour of tv...ever.
For all that, now I'm burping lamb vindaloo. That's a fair trade.
