Clash of the Titans

Ok, the self-imposed ban on writing is over. It’s time to let the creative juices flow, yet again; time to pour, rather liberally, into the steady stream of life, my few drops, or shall I call them pearls, of wisdom!

I have occupied myself lately with watching movies at a rate that would put many a movie buffs to shame. If I may, I have watched not less than 50 movies in the past one month. And that is indeed saying much considering I am a veritable student in a certain Well-known Institute of Management in Western India that is known for its academic rigor. The objective, you ask. C’est très simple. Strike out movies from the list of Top 250 Movies of All-Time on IMDB as soon as possible and claim the status of the undisputable king of movie buffs at WIMWI. Sounds weird, doesn’t it? But it seems this is the best possible raison d’être I could possess to enliven my stay in an otherwise insanely competitive and radically absurd educational institute that is a consummate exemplification of the pretentious and boisterous big bad world of business out there. Hmm… so I am back to being my old cynical self. Bon!!

Lately, I have been occupied by a thought. Who is the greatest actor to have graced the screen ever? Is it Sir Lawrence Olivier or Marlon Brando? It is said of the comparison, “Mr. Brando formed characterizations within himself, but Olivier built them from bits and pieces of others he found outside.” Now, I don’t particularly understand the whole Method Acting debate and all that talk about the Konstantin Stanislavski System and its American derivative, the Lee Strasberg System. And quite frankly, I am the last person to answer the question that if Coppola had decided on Sir Lawrence instead of Mr. Brando, how the world would have known Don Corleone. It is like asking what would have happened if Nazi Germany had won the Battle of Stalingrad. Ok, the analogy sucked. But who cares!

All said and done, Brando rocked in On the Waterfront, The Godfather and Last Tango in Paris. He truly weaved magic into his characterizations on screen. I couldn't help but live the character by proxy - a perfect willing suspension of disbelief. Now I just need to lay my hands on some of Olivier’s classics and A Streetcar Named Desire by Elia Kazan to complete the picture of the debate. Wish me luck.