Resul Pookutty refutes AR Rahman's communal remark, "He shouldn't have said that. I have never faced anything like that in my entire career"

Oscar winning sound designer has much common in A R Rahman. They both won Oscars for Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire and they are both Muslim. So, has Resul also felt the “communal thing” that Rahman says he has experienced? Said Resul, “He shouldn’t have said that. I have never faced anything like that in my entire career. I think film industry is one sector where such thoughts haven’t gone deep rooted and we see things way beyond sectarian thoughts. I’m very proud of that aspect of my industry.” Defending Rahman’s remarks Resul Pookutty said, “If you listen to what he said about this is, when he was removed from projects he ‘heard’ whispers from people referring to it as ‘that might be communal’. Now what he said is what people told him. In the same breath he said, people are too mature to not see things beyond all these factors. It seems we are very quick to pin Rahman down. I think he said things with sincerity. Let’s not crucify him for what he felt ab...

Vaychiletik review – beautifully-shot Mexican folk music study in the high arthouse style

A tender film about the music of Mayan descendants is hampered by the alofty adherence to a documentary aesthetic where nothing is explained

This film about a flute player and farmer named José Pérez López from Zinacantán in Chiapas, Mexico, teems with beautifully shot images of folks playing music, embroidering, participating in days-long community rituals, and tending their crops of flowers in polytunnels – pretty normal everyday stuff. It feels a little more elevated because it affords a glimpse into the life of descendants of the Mayans who practice ancestor worship and polytheistic beliefs but also have shrines with Catholic saints. The film’s website has a handy chunk of text about Bats’i son ta Sots’leb, the traditional music of Zinacantán, described in fascinating musicological detail.

It’s a shame that kind of explanatory background can’t be found anywhere in the movie. In fact, the subtitles and dialogue never even give the names of the people we are observing for most of the running time. You can only work out that the old guy is named José, and the woman who laughingly scolds him for drinking so much is Elvia Pérez Suárez, presumably his wife, and that they also live with a hard-working younger man named Esteban Pérez Pérez (presumably José and Elvia’s son) and some even younger kids: Esteban’s children? Random kids from next door? Who knows, because this scrupulously verité-style film is determined to adhere to the high-arthouse documentary aesthetic wherein nothing is explained, nothing is contextualised, and there’s no sense of what point or purpose this all serves other than a little digital tourism to a far-flung corner of the globe.

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