#indian box office news

[nando161mando]

[theomenmedia]

Singham Again Trailer Breaks Records

"Singham Again" trailer breaks the internet with record-breaking views! The action-packed saga is set to redefine Bollywood. Watch the history-making trailer now!

Link to the full story: https://www.theomenmedia.com/post/singham-again-shatters-records-the-biggest-bollywood-trailer-launch-ever

[shewroteaworld]

How He Made You Feel

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Premise: Right before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship, Jake puts a high school teacher behind bars for attempted sexual assault. The case brings up some difficult high school memories for you.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sexual harassment, downplaying of sexual harassment

Word count: approx. 2,500

A/N: I'm back! Let me know in the comments if you want more Jake Peralta fics. (I'm not sure there's an audience for it.) Hope you enjoy! <3

Jake Peralta is the king of cinnamon buns. Eating the ones you bake, that is. 

“This is like heaven on my tongue!” He moans. He licks some cream cheese frosting off the top. “Babe, these are seriously amazing.”

Your back relaxes. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Right after your shift at the 99th precinct, you zipped to your apartment to chill before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship (no pressure). Rather than chillaxing, your anxiety sparked, and kneading dough became the outlet. Your in-a-pinch cinnamon buns never fail to soothe your soul or anyone’s taste buds. Now that you’re in his kitchen, you’re grateful for the baking conniption. Jake’s indulgence gives you a moment to ground.

As he gulps down another bite, his eyebrow quirks. “Jakey?” He flashes that cheeky grin you love to hate.

Your face warms. “I never said that.”

“Nope! No take backs! It’s on the record!”

You scoff. “Aren’t you a little young for hearing loss?” 

“Hey!” He pokes the edge of your forced frown. “You said it, and you know it, and it was adorable.”

Your heart beats in your ears. “You liked it?” 

Jake’s eyes soften. “Yeah, I liked it.” He smirks mischievously. “And you’re getting all mushy on me.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Peralta.” 

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He pokes your side.

You jerk away. “You don’t, and you know it.”

“If you say so! But I know what cutesy-nickname territory means.”

The buzz of his phone spares you from his ribbing. “Our DoorDash is here. I’m going to pick it up downstairs.” Jake slips on his slides.

“Kay. Thanks.”

He leans over his kitchen chair to kiss your cheek. “Course. BRB.”

Jake rushes out his apartment door. In his absence, you observe his place: the mopped kitchen tile, his clean olive green couch, his stash of beginner recipe books tucked on a shelf above a kitchen counter. When you first transferred to the 99, you couldn’t imagine Peralta had an inkling of an organized domestic in him. 

Your tan trench coat hangs next to his leather NYPD jacket on the coat rack in the hall. Your heart palpitates. That was the first stitch of your domestic lives being sewn together. You wring your hands.

Jake doesn’t care about stains. You’ll eat Indian take-out from the container while watching some corny comedy he loves and you bemoan on his bare sofa. You tidy the kitchen table anyway.

The wave of anxiety begins to crest as you straighten junk mail from random magazines and political campaigns. You brush crumbs off the new placemats you forced on him through Office Secret Santa. (Weave placements are a recipe for soup-spill disasters.) You leave the manila files of cases he’s working on untouched off to the side.

You pour two tall glasses of water.  So what if you ordered drinks? Jake’s bloodstream will become half orange soda if someone doesn’t counteract his addiction.

Just as you’re setting the glasses down, there’s a knock on the door.

You jump. Your hand jerks, sending a manila folder flying to the floor, its confidential contents scattering behind the island on impact. Shit. 

“Forgot my keys, babe!” Jake calls.

“Coming!” 

Upon opening the door, a smiley Jake awaits you, holding a white cardboard box to his chest. The mouth watering aromas wafting from it don’t calm your cortisol levels. 

His head tilts. “Why the long face?”

You step aside. “When you knocked, I jumped and slapped one of your files off the kitchen table. I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “It’s no problem.” He says, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re on edge. 

“Everything spilled out.” You elaborate. Though you wouldn’t describe Jake as neat, he’s particular. Though the order of his files and notes are Greek to everyone else, it makes sense to him. He hates when someone “tidies” it without his permission.

Jake walks towards the kitchen. “Yeah, on the floor, not another dimension. It’s okay. Besides, it doesn’t need to be in any specific order– I closed that case today. I’m returning everything to the file room first thing.”

You trail behind him. “Did you close while I was uptown with Boyle?”

“Yep.” He plops the takeout box on the table. He kneels down to gather the rogue papers. “While you were out gathering evidence, I was cracking the code on this creep.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sexual assault case?” You sort your take out into categories: his, hers, and shared. 

Jake taps a stack of papers straight against a countertop. “Attempted.  And he was a fucking high school teacher. Luckily, it was all on security cam. Easy win.”

The styrofoam carton of lamb samosas trembles in your hand. “That’s upsetting.”

“Majorly. Sadly, he’ll probably get off easy. I mean it was attempted. Not that it should’ve been full-on assault or that what happened isn’t terrible–”

“I understand what you mean, Jake.” You assure. It’s how sex crimes go. 

You open your potato samosa carton. “These are the bomb dot com,” you say. It’s an easy lay up for him.

“That ass is the bomb dot com!” Your chest loosens at the change of topic.

You shoot Jake a glare. He puts his hands up. 

He picks up the last of stray papers as you grab plates and utensils.  When he’s done, he grabs the drink holder, your Pineapple Fanta and your pink lemonade each tucked in a cardboard slot. “Let’s go sit, m’lady.”

You reach for the drink holder with your free hand, but he twists his torso away. He nods towards the living room. “Relax. Pick a show. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

When Jake joins you on the couch, you immediately reach for your potato samosas.

“You weren’t kidding when you said those were your favorite.” Jake chuckles.

“Absolutely not. Try the lamb. They should be in the center– that’s the shared column.”

Jake affectionately rolls his eyes. “You treat life like an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Someone has to.” The cold condensation on your small pink lemonade chills your hand. “Hopefully, a detective would.”

He grabs his chest as if you struck him. “Your passive aggression is a stab to my heart!”

You pop open the container of jasmine rice. “What subject did that teacher teach?” You ask.

“The creeper?”

“Mhmm.”

Jake opens a container of chicken saagwala. “History.”

You hum disappointedly. “History teachers were always the coolest. Especially the male ones.” You stab your plastic fork into the rice and reach for the curry. 

“Now I wish I slept less in history class.” Jake remarks. 

You stare blankly at the coffee table as you spoon your (hopefully) extra spicy curry onto your plate. 

The couch sighs as Jake sinks back into the cushions, his left arm stretching to lay behind you on the sofa’s back. “Such a scumbag. The girl was barely legal–could’ve been one of his own students. To make matters worse, she looked 16.”

In your head, you count your breaths. You zone in on the white grains of rice you’re absentmindedly pushing into your curry sauce. 

You see your high school hallway. You remember the misery, the pressure. Mr. Johnston.

“You listening to me, babe?”

He taps your calf with the tip of his slide. You flinch.

“Sorry,” he says. Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“That’s alright.”

In your peripheral vision, he leans forward. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’m great.” You click on his TV. “Just got a bit lost in my thoughts for a second.”

You feel Jake studying your side profile.

You click on Netflix. “Let’s do something lighthearted.” You drop down to his My List. Thankfully, you don’t have to search long to find something passable. 

“This one okay?” You ask. “I’ve been wanting to watch this too.”

“More than okay.”

The strings of the production company’s opening music fill the living room. You fiddle with your fork. Queasiness bites at you.

You need to shake this. This was your first sleepover with Jake. Don’t ruin this experience for yourself. It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you were alright. It was nowhere close to what that victim experienced. You’re fine. Is your asthma acting up?

You rest your plate on the coffee table. “Keep watching. I need the restroom real quick.”

You speed walk across the apartment to his bathroom, locking the door behind you. You turn the faucet to screeching cold. You dip your head into the basin and splash ice water in your face.

Your lungs gasp open from shock. Your brain drops back into your body. 

Everything’s safe. You’re okay. Tonight will be great. Don’t let some creep going to trial rattle you like this and ruin the evening.

You find a clean towel in a drawer and dry your face. After taking a detour to his bathroom to toss it in his hamper, you take three final deep breaths, your hand over your heart.

You’re fine. Nothing’s happening.

You return to the couch with a soft smile. “Sorry, Jake.” 

“No problem. You okay?” He asks again.

You hate lying to him. “Yeah, I just had to pee.” 

The movie snaps back to action. Though you didn’t ask, he paused for you. As the film unfurls, as predicted, you poke fun at the plot and Jake ardently defends it. The banter warms you, but the knot in the pit of your stomach refuses to unfurl.

Once your plate is clean, you lay your head on Jake’s shoulder. As the leading actress does something you don’t register, Jake’s laughter ripples through your hollow chest. 

It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you survived it. He never touched you. It was so long ago. He must be retired by now. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to be your fault. Nothing criminal happened. Nothing. It was so–

“(Y/N).”

You gasp. You snap up straight. The movie’s been paused. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention.” Jake says gently. 

Your heart sinks. “It’s…I’m just in my head.” You roughly run a hand through your hair. “So sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You stare at your knees.

Jake intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s definitely substantial for you to be distracted like this.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m here.”

You smile sadly. “I don’t want to bring the vibe down.”

“Acquiring (Y/N) lore rivals catching bad guys as my favorite thing to do. Telling me about your feelings could never bring the vibe down. ”

A courteous dismissal gets tangled in your throat. Is that really what you want to say? 

Your free hand fiddles with the end of your hair. “I really don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You force a deep breath. “Your case threw me off.”

His eyebrows knit. “The teacher–creep one?”

You nod. “The teacher…you said he harassed a young woman who looked 16.”

He nods.

“It reminds me of an experience I had in high school when I was 17.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “How so?” He asks gently.

“There was… this science teacher– Mr. Johnston. One semester, I had to walk by his classroom everyday. I had to walk from my homeroom on the opposite end of the school, so sometimes I would get there right after the bell rang. When I was alone, he would always offer to walk me to class…even though it was only a couple doors down from his.”

Jake nods. 

“He said he was trying to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for tardiness…but he never told my teacher he walked me. And he did it even after he knew I wouldn’t get in trouble and that I was only going two doors down from his classroom.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“He also used to do this weird thing where he would walk right behind me…I think it was supposed to be copying my walk to tease me. One day, he came up super close behind me– close enough to smell my perfume. All I could think about was how close to my ass he was.”

Anger cuts through Jake’s expression. “Did anyone see this?” 

“Some other teachers did. They didn’t see anything wrong with it…they laughed it off everytime. I guess they saw it as a harmless joke. But, it made me really uncomfortable. Everyday I would pray that he wouldn’t say hi to me or be weird and would just let me walk to class. I figured maybe I was crazy, making something out of nothing, but it just felt wrong. At the time, I tried to block it out, I had other stressors to deal with…but right after I graduated, I reflected on it and other stories I heard about him…and I was creeped out.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. Did you ever report this?”

“I confided in another teacher about it, but I never formally reported anything. I don’t know if he ever talked to his colleague about his behavior. Plus, I didn't think there was anything concrete to report.” You sigh. “It felt so wrong. I remember being so afraid of being alone in a room with him…he was a co-advisor for some extracurriculars I was a part of. There, he was always completely indifferent towards me but in those hallways in the morning…”

“With less people.” Jake notes. “And colleagues who didn’t take his behavior seriously.” 

You nod. 

“(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. That isn’t okay.”

“I’m still not really sure if anything did happen to me. He didn’t touch me….he just…”

Jake shakes his head. “Followed you down hallways and got close to your body. That’s not okay.” He squeezes your hand again. “How did it make you feel?”

“Violated.” You admit.

Jake nods. “That’s what matters. How he made you feel matters. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake offers you a tissue. “Do you know what ever happened to that teacher?”

You wipe your eyes. “I believe he retired…not 100% sure.”

His face hardens. “I can track him down if you like.”

“No, Jake…there’s nothing to report. No evidence. Just a dead-end case of “he said she said” from over 10 years ago. Even if I reported it earlier, I doubt anything could have happened.”

Jake groans. “This sucks. I’m sorry for what you went through. No one should feel uncomfortable with a teacher at school. Jesus, every time I think I get what women go through, I learn it’s worse than I imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

You dab your eyes. “Thank you for not belittling what happened to me. It’s great to have someone like you...you don't downplay what I feel."

He kisses your nose. “It’s part of my boyfriend duties; it’s what I’m here for.”

You press a tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for being a safe space to talk.”

He returns the peck. “Forever and always.”

Jake Peralta is a goofball. He can be messy– both literally and figuratively. But at the core of it all was a mensch’s heart. 

[erwinsvow]

𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

summary: domestic bliss with agent hotchner is hard to come by. you take advantage of your time with him at home when you can.

word count: 1.4k

author's note: eeeeeee. cannot stop writing for this man. not bau!reader explicitly and also not smut explicitly, more in between. enjoy!!

The house you and Aaron buy is small, and in one word; picturesque. The outside panels are a soft, faded yellow and the shutters are brown.

It’s not a fixer-upper by any means, though Aaron talks often about the wood floors that will need to be redone in a few years, and the kitchen tile and backsplash that aren't in the condition he would quite like.

There’s other things too, like the downstairs bathroom with the peeling, floral patterned wallpaper and the carpet in Jack’s room. He worries about redoing the wallpaper—visions of hours of peeling it off and getting new sheets up and if there’s mold behind the paper, but you like it. It makes it feel like you’ve lived in this house your whole life.

Your shared bedroom is upstairs, down the hall from Jack and the first room off the stairs. You like the simplicity of this house most of all, nothing too grand or vain. When the realtor had taken you for a showing, Aaron was off on a case in Florida and Jack was at school. You felt silly touring alone, because it would have been easier to imagine living here with Aaron and Jack by your side, but you do it anyway.

You love Aaron’s apartment and you have more memories than you can count there—visions of making oatmeal raisin cookies with Jack and your first date with Aaron (a dinner that he cooked followed by a record playing softly and dancing in the living room) pop into your mind—but it’s running out of space, and it’s not quite like home. 

This house is home in all the best ways. A big kitchen with an island, where you can picture a cookie jar and a tall counter stool where Jack sits and eats his oatmeal before school. 

The living room has big windows and there’s a smaller playroom off the foyer, and in an instant you can picture the rest of your life here. You tell Aaron that night on the phone, and the three of you pay a visit the following weekend. You’re signing papers and packing up boxes two weeks later.

It doesn’t feel like it’s been much time at all, but you realize you’re coming up on almost a year of this house. Your house, the both of yours, the family house. This will be Jack and his siblings’ childhood home.

If you can ever get your husband into bed, that is. 

It’s eight-thirty on Friday night. Jack has been at a birthday party-sleepover night since about five. Aaron returned from a case in Michigan less than twenty four hours ago. You had been asleep, late Thursday evening, when he came back home.

He’d gone to the office today and then picked up Jack from school to bring him over to the sleepover. You had triple checked that he’d packed everything he needed—pajamas, toothbrush, his emergency Epi-pen—but forgot the birthday boy’s present in the back seat of your car. 

You and Aaron drive back over to deliver the gift, make polite small talk with the parents, and then rush out of there.

Aaron had set up a whole plan. Dinner reservations, dessert at the ice cream place near the house, and then a quiet night in, which was long awaited and desperately needed.

However, nothing goes as planned. You miss the reservation window by ten minutes trying to get Jack’s friend the stupid gift—a Lego Star-Wars kit—before they open presents and cut cake. The ice cream shop is closed due to renovations. You return home to missed calls from your boss and a stack of Aaron’s paperwork on the counter. 

“Take out it is,” Aaron says, rifling through the drawer next to the oven. There’s more flyers in there than he thinks, and he still can’t find the one he’s looking for. “Honey? Where’s the menu for that one Indian place-”

“Side of the fridge,” you call back, typing away on your laptop. He doesn’t have to finish his sentences anymore. It makes him smile every time. He locates the menu and brings it to you on the couch. 

“What’d you think? The usual?”

“I have a couple ideas.” You are starving, and not for food. 

You’re in Aaron’s lap before you can even think about it. He has big hands, very big, very strong hands, that grip you by the waist and hoist you on top of him in a moment. It takes your breath away, momentarily, and then he really takes your breath away.

He kisses you like it’s his first and last time ever being able to do so. His hands roam all over your body and it makes every part of you tingle in anticipation. He grabs your ass with both hands and then slaps it hard—hard enough that it hurts, but he knows you well enough to welcome the moan you emit into his mouth.

Your hands run through his hair and then focus on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. It’s hard to think, though, with him beneath you and his hardness pressing against you in all the best ways. You want to stay here on the couch and grind yourself against him until you’re both sweating and cumming—but he has other plans.

Always a gentleman, always patient, he pulls away from the kiss and lets you catch your breath. Your foreheads are pressed together, noses touching, and you briefly take in that after so many years of knowing him, Aaron will always take your breath away.

“Why’d you stop?” you question innocently, and he thinks he’ll lose his mind. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Why? I think this is perfect.” You lean back in to kiss him hard, losing yourself in the sweet taste of his mouth—always coffee—and his aroma, which draws you in no matter where you are. 

He laughs into your mouth, pulling away again. You make a soft noise of displeasure, but it all goes away when he lifts you up to carry you to your bedroom. 

He puts you down first, and gets rid of the tie you undid downstairs. You watch with big eyes while he hovers over you, until he finally leans down and your lips meet again. It’s all too natural to take off your dress and spread your legs and help him pull off his button-up, moaning into your kisses and enjoying the feeling of his hand in your hair, pulling softly. 

You like Aaron all of the time, but you’re incredibly biased when he’s like this. You’ve never had to ask for anything, and he somehow knows everything you like. He lines more kisses along your neck, down to your chest. Just as you hear him, low and heady, murmuring, “Tell me what you want,” and getting ready to answer, needy out of your mind and ready to tell him that you need to be fucked, hard, now, his phone goes off.

You exhale. Aaron drops his head in defeat against your chest.

“I’m sorry, honey, hold on a minute,” he starts, leaning over you to get his phone from the nightstand. 

“Who is it?” “JJ. It must be a case, I’ll just-”

“Wait, wait,” you whisper. “If it’s a case you can go in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” he questions, eyebrow raised. You look back at him sheepishly.

“Okay, fifteen minutes. I mean, nothing’s gonna change in a half an hour, right? Fifteen minutes here and then fifteen minutes to get there.”

“Honey, I really shouldn’t-”

“I mean, think about it. Everyone else probably isn’t even there yet. You’ll just be sitting around waiting for them before you start. So really, I’m saving you time.”

You both lock eyes and burst into laughter. 

“I’ll get your go-bag,” you say, as he answers JJ’s call. You’re about to get up, looking for your haphazardly discarded dress and Aaron’s shirt, when you feel Aaron grip your forearm.

“Hotchner. Okay, JJ, thanks. I’ll be there in forty.” He hangs up and looks back at you, frozen in place. “You have twenty-five minutes to tell me what you want.” You squeal when he pulls you back into bed, kissing you hard.

He gets to the office an hour later.

[uwmarchives]

Native American Heritage Month at UWM Archives

In honor of Native American Heritage Month, we offer this selection of materials from our collections that begin to illustrate Native American presence and power at UWM.

📸: Sandra Harris Tran tables for the Native American Student Movement (NASM) at UWM, circa 1980. The NASM has been a key vehicle for Native student organizing, support, and expression since the late 1960s. NASM is now known as the American Indian Student Association. Call Number: UWM Photographs Collection, UWM AC 6, Box 18.

📸: A Milwaukee Sentinel clipping pictures American Indian students organizing for a dedicated academic program outside Chapman Hall in 1971. Call Number: UWM University Communications & Media Relations Records, UWM AC 134, Box 2.

📸: The cover to a 1974 catalog shows the fruits of Native student organizing in the form of the UWM Native American Studies Program (now American Indian Studies). Call Number: UWM Office of the Chancellor Records, UWM AC 46, Box 54.

📸: The UWM Native American Studies Program announces the pilot of the Wisconsin Native American Languages Project (WNALP) in 1974. This announcement is from "Anishinaabe News: UW-Milwaukee American Indian News," a newsletter of the Native American Studies Program and NASM. Call Number: UWM Office of the Chancellor Records, UWM AC 46, Box 54.

📸: Margaret Richmond offers language instruction to a class of Native "youngsters" as a Menominee Language Resource Consultant for the WNALP in 1976. Call Number: UWM Photographs Collection, UWM AC 6, Box 18. The earlier Native American Studies Program WNALP announcement anticipates an appropriate caption: "We've a lot to learn from our elders!"

In cooperation with the Great Lakes Intertribal Council, UWM Archives stewards the Wisconsin Native American Languages Project Records, 1973-1976 (UWM Mss 20). With extensive instructional materials from the WNALP, the collection continues to serve as an important resource for the study and revitalization of Wisconsin's Native languages for citizens of Wisconsin's Ojibwe, Menominee, Oneida, Potawatomi, and Ho-Chunk nations.

- Eli

[gamebird]

I had cancer surgery three years ago. I have regular check-ups watching for it to return. Last one was two days ago. In it, doctor asks if I have problems with hot flashes. I say no. He looks confused. I tell him I have problems with brain fog and concentration, sometimes focus and motivation. I remind him I've brought this up for the last 3-4 appointments, they've told me to go to a sexual health expert (even though it's not primarily sexual; although I have become basically asexual); they've told me to talk to my general practitioner about it (which I did and they did a full blood workup and said they had no idea).

He brushes this off and says there's a new medication that might help me. I ask, 'With the brain fog?' He says it's mainly for hot flashes but yeah, maybe, who knows? He hurries on about how he's going to give me 6 weeks of samples and I can find out if it helps. And I'm like, 'Okay, I guess ...?' There's a little more back and forth where he tries to reassure me that 60% of his patients have been helped by this stuff even though it's very new and there's not extensive history and I eventually concede that yeah, sure, give me the free stuff and I'll look at it.

I take the free stuff. There's a little towel and a pill caddy in the 'Welcome to X medication!' intro box. There's a whole themed intro box for these pills.

At home, I do some research. It's for hot flashes. It has no other listed purpose. The side effects and risks seem tolerable. The kicker is that it retails for $750 a month with a discounted rate of $550. I laugh - it's about what I expected.

But now that I understand what their deal is, I go ahead and try it.

So that's two days ago, right? I've taken this pill twice. I have not had brain fog for the last two days, although I have had disrupted sleep and 1 loose stool. I understand data. This is way too small a sample given the 'comes and goes' brain fog thing. It means nothing at this point.

The nurse from the doctor's office calls me (TWO DAYS!) saying she'd called my pharmacy and the Indian Health system didn't cover the pills so let's get me set up with a different pharmacy so I can get them there. And I'm like, 'I'm not paying for this stuff. I told the doctor up front - I don't have a problem with hot flashes. It's over $500 a MONTH. I'll take the free ones - and by the way your package had four weeks of pills in it, not six - but I'm not paying for this.'

She tried to talk me into it. Honest she did: 'aren't they helping you? Do you feel any effects? Don't you want to stay on it? We could set you up for them just in case.'

I laughed and told her, "I wish you showed this level of enthusiasm addressing my actual problem." (or, you know, addressing my cancer)

And she was, 'what problem is that?' with this sinking tone in her voice, like I'd told her I'd kicked her puppy.

I explained the brain fog. AGAIN. (To be fair, I don't know that she was the nurse in the room with the doctor or had any knowledge of my case other than a file.) So I also explained I'd been bringing this up for two years, had referrals about it, was keeping daily records at home trying to get to the bottom of it, was annoying my friends about it, had moved up my retirement schedule because of it, was trying decongestants and mushroom gummies for goodness sakes trying to find a solution. Maybe it's long COVID. I don't know and that's why I keep asking the medical professionals every time I'm in front of them. Or on the phone with them. Like her.

Yeah, no, the hot flash pills are a nice idea but my brain is not so far gone that I'm going to pay $500 a month for that 'nice'. Anyway, she said she'd look into routes where I could get it cheaper and rang off.

I still wish they'd show that level of tenacity and enthusiasm fixing my real problems.

[mariacallous]

If you were asked to guess which prestigious film-making duo had spent their career scratching around desperately for cash, trying to wriggle out of paying their cast and crew, ping-ponging between lovers, and having such blood-curdling bust-ups that their neighbours called the police, it might be some time before “Merchant Ivory” sprang to mind. But a new warts-and-all documentary about the Indian producer Ismail Merchant and the US director James Ivory makes it clear that the simmering passions in their films, such as the EM Forster trilogy of A Room With a View, Maurice and Howards End, were nothing compared to the scalding, volatile ones behind the camera.

From their initial meeting in New York in 1961 to Merchant’s death during surgery in 2005, the pair were as inseparable as their brand name, with its absence of any hyphen or ampersand, might suggest. Their output was always more eclectic than they got credit for. They began with a clutch of insightful Indian-set dramas including Shakespeare-Wallah, their 1965 study of a troupe of travelling actors, featuring a young, pixieish Felicity Kendal. From there, they moved on to Savages, a satire on civilisation and primitivism, and The Wild Party, a skewering of 1920s Hollywood excess that pipped Damien Chazelle’s Babylon to the post by nearly half a century.

It was in the 1980s and early 1990s, though, that Merchant Ivory became box-office titans, cornering the market in plush dramas about repressed Brits in period dress. Those literary adaptations launched the careers of Hugh Grant, Helena Bonham Carter, Rupert Graves and Julian Sands, and helped make stars of Emma Thompson and Daniel Day-Lewis. Most were scripted by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who had been with them, on and off, since their 1963 debut The Householder; she even lived in the same apartment building in midtown New York. Many were scored by Richard Robbins, who was romantically involved with Merchant while also holding a candle for Bonham Carter. These films restored the costume drama to the position it had occupied during David Lean’s heyday. The roaring trade in Jane Austen adaptations might never have happened without them. You could even blame Merchant Ivory for Bridgerton.

Though the pictures were uniformly pretty, making them was often ugly. Money was always scarce. Asked where he would find the cash for the next movie, Merchant replied: “Wherever it is now.” After Jenny Beavan and John Bright won an Academy Award for the costumes in A Room With a View, he said:“I got you your Oscar. Why do I need to pay you?” As Ivory was painstakingly composing each shot, Merchant’s familiar, booming battle cry would ring out: “Shoot, Jim, shoot!”

Heat and Dust, starring Julie Christie, was especially fraught. Only 30 or 40% of the budget was in place by the time the cameras started rolling in India in 1982; Merchant would rise at dawn to steal the telegrams from the actors’ hotels so they didn’t know their agents were urging them to down tools. Interviewees in the documentary concede that the producer was a “conman” with a “bazaar mentality”. But he was also an incorrigible charmer who dispensed flattery by the bucketload, threw lavish picnics, and wangled entrées to magnificent temples and palaces. “You never went to bed without dreaming of ways to kill him,” says one friend, the journalist Anna Kythreotis. “But you couldn’t not love him.”

Stephen Soucy, who directed the documentary, doesn’t soft-pedal how wretched those sets could be. “Every film was a struggle,” he tells me. “People were not having a good time. Thompson had a huge fight with Ismail on Howards End because she’d been working for 13 days in a row, and he tried to cancel her weekend off. Gwyneth Paltrow hated every minute of making Jefferson in Paris. Hated it! Laura Linney was miserable on The City of Your Final Destination because the whole thing was a shitshow. But you watch the films and you see no sense of that.”

Soucy’s movie features archive TV clips of the duo bickering even in the midst of promoting a film. “Oh, they were authentic all right,” he says. “They clashed a lot.”The authenticity extended to their sexuality. The subject was not discussed publicly until after Ivory won an Oscar for writing Call Me By Your Name: “You have to remember that Ismail was an Indian citizen living in Bombay, with a deeply conservative Muslim family,” Ivory told me in 2018. But the pair were open to those who knew them. “I never had a sense of guilt,” Ivory says, pointing out that the crew on The Householder referred to him and Merchant as “Jack and Jill”.

Soucy had already begun filming his documentary when Ivory published a frank, fragmentary memoir, Solid Ivory, which dwells in phallocentric detail on his lovers before and during his relationship with Merchant, including the novelist Bruce Chatwin. It was that book which emboldened Soucy to ask questions on screen – including about “the crazy, complicated triangle of Jim, Ismail and Dick [Robbins]” – that he might not otherwise have broached.

The documentary is most valuable, though, in making a case for Ivory as an underrated advocate for gay representation. The Remains of the Day, adapted from Kazuo Ishiguro’s Booker-winning novel about a repressed butler, may be the duo’s masterpiece, but it was their gay love story Maurice that was their riskiest undertaking. Set in the early 20th century, its release in 1987 could scarcely have been timelier: it was the height of the Aids crisis, and only a few months before the Conservative government’s homophobic Section 28 became law.

“Ismail wasn’t as driven as Jim to make Maurice,” explains Soucy. ��And Ruth was too busy to write it. But Jim’s dogged determination won the day. They’d had this global blockbuster with A Room With a View, and he knew it could be now or never. People would pull aside Paul Bradley, the associate producer, and say: ‘Why are they doing Maurice when they could be making anything?’ I give Jim so much credit for having the vision and tenacity to make sure the film got made.”

Merchant Ivory don’t usually figure in surveys of queer cinema, though they are part of its ecosystem, and not only because of Maurice. Ron Peck, who made the gay classic Nighthawks, was a crew member on The Bostonians. Andrew Haigh, director of All of Us Strangers, landed his first industry job as a poorly paid assistant in Merchant’s Soho office in the late 1990s; in Haigh’s 2011 breakthrough film Weekend, one character admits to freeze-framing the naked swimming scene in A Room With a View to enjoy “Rupert Graves’s juddering cock”. Merchant even offered a role in Savages to Holly Woodlawn, the transgender star of Andy Warhol’s Trash, only for her to decline because the fee was so low.

The position of Merchant Ivory at the pinnacle of British cinema couldn’t last for ever. Following the success of The Remains of the Day, which was nominated for eight Oscars, the brand faltered and fizzled. Their films had already been dismissed by the director Alan Parker as representing “the Laura Ashley school” of cinema. Gary Sinyor spoofed their oeuvre in the splendid pastiche Stiff Upper Lips (originally titled Period!), while Eric Idle was plotting his own send-up called The Remains of the Piano. The culture had moved on.

There was still an appetite for upper-middle-class British repression, but only if it was funny: Richard Curtis drew on some of Merchant Ivory’s repertory company of actors (Grant, Thompson, Simon Callow) for a run of hits beginning with Four Weddings and a Funeral, which took the poshos out of period dress and plonked them into romcoms.

The team itself was splintering. Merchant had begun directing his own projects. When he and Ivory did collaborate, the results were often unwieldy, lacking the stabilising literary foundation of their best work. “Films like Jefferson in Paris and Surviving Picasso didn’t come from these character-driven novels like Forster, James or Ishiguro,” notes Soucy. “Jefferson and Picasso were not figures that audiences warmed to.” Four years after Merchant’s death, Ivory’s solo project The City of Your Final Destination became mired in lawsuits, including one from Anthony Hopkins for unpaid earnings.

Soucy’s film, though, is a reminder of their glory days. It may also stoke interest in the movies among young queer audiences whose only connection to Ivory, now 95, is through Call Me By Your Name. “People walk up to Jim in the street to shake his hand and thank him for Maurice,” says Soucy. “But I also wanted to include the more dysfunctional side of how they were made. Hopefully it will be inspiring to young film-makers to see that great work can come out of chaos.”

[loneberry]

New-old life!!! Looking forward to a productive year of research in my office at Harvard’s Warren Center, where I’ll be finishing my book under contract with Princeton University Press.

Shipped three boxes of books to my office. Also set it up with my office creature comforts: monitor, laptop stand, yoga ball seat cushion, timer, timed lock box (to lock up my phone), my classic bike pedal (the Wang is going nowhere fast!)… plus the ultimate office essential: MUJI pens.

Can’t tell you how many hours I’ve clocked reading poetry in the Woodberry Poetry Room 💜 I’ve missed this serene temple to verse.

Brought my beloved Indian block print blanket with me. Making my bed is truly a pleasure since I got this beauty… it was the first thing I unpacked. As long as I have this blanket I will always make my bed.

My dear poet friend Chris Spaide left his Roku TV with me for the year. I’ve never had a TV before but already have hooked it up to my USC Kanopy account, which has a robust offering bc of USC’s top-ranked film school. Between that and the Harvard Film Archive it will be a film bonanza this year!!

[thescribbleddiaries]

Bollywood Vs The South Indian Cinema

Introduction to Bollywood and South Indian Film Industries

India is renowned for its vibrant and diverse film industries, with Bollywood representing the Hindi-language cinema based in Mumbai and the South Indian movie industry encompassing Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam, and Kannada films. Each of these industries has its own unique characteristics, cultural influences, and star power that have captivated audiences worldwide. In this article, we explore the dynamic landscape of Bollywood and South Indian cinema, delving into their historical evolution, box office impact, global recognition, stylistic elements, talent pool, evolving trends, and the challenges and opportunities they face in the ever-changing world of cinema.

Overview of Bollywood and South Indian Movie Industries

Introduction to Bollywood and South Indian Film Industries

Bollywood, the Hindi-language film industry based in Mumbai, and the South Indian movie industry, comprising Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, and Malayalam cinema, are two powerhouses of Indian cinema known for their unique styles and storytelling.

Historical Development and Growth

Bollywood traces its roots back to the early 20th century, while South Indian cinema has a rich history dating back to the 1930s. Both industries have evolved over the years, embracing new technologies and trends to captivate audiences worldwide.

Cultural Influences and Diversity in Bollywood and South Indian Films

Themes and Storytelling in Bollywood Films

Bollywood films often explore themes of love, drama, and family relationships, blending extravagant song-and-dance sequences with emotional storytelling that resonates with audiences of all ages.

Regional Diversity in South Indian Cinema

South Indian cinema, on the other hand, boasts a diverse range of genres and storytelling techniques across its different language industries, showcasing rich cultural traditions and narratives unique to each region.

Box Office Success and Market Reach of Bollywood vs South Indian Cinema

Box Office Performance of Bollywood Films

Bollywood films have a global appeal and consistently dominate the Indian box office, with big-budget productions and star-studded casts drawing massive audiences both domestically and internationally.

Market Dominance of South Indian Cinema in Regional Markets

While Bollywood enjoys a wide reach, South Indian cinema holds sway in its respective regional markets, with loyal fan bases and a steady stream of hit films that cater to the diverse cultural preferences of audiences in the South.

Impact of Bollywood and South Indian Films on Global Cinema

International Recognition and Film Festivals

Both Bollywood and South Indian films have garnered international acclaim, with entries in major film festivals and recognition for their unique storytelling, performances, and technical brilliance that transcend cultural boundaries.

Global Box Office Influence

The global popularity of Bollywood and the rising profile of South Indian cinema have expanded the reach of Indian films on the world stage, influencing trends in filmmaking and attracting a diverse audience eager to experience the magic of Indian cinema.# Unique Characteristics and Stylistic Elements in Bollywood and South Indian Movies

## Musical Elements in Bollywood Films Bollywood movies are known for their infectious songs and dance sequences that range from emotional ballads to energetic dance numbers. These musical interludes often become chart-topping hits and play a significant role in the storytelling of the film.

## Action and Visual Effects in South Indian Cinema South Indian cinema, particularly in the Tamil and Telugu industries, excels in high-octane action sequences and cutting-edge visual effects. From gravity-defying stunts to larger-than-life fight scenes, South Indian movies set the bar high when it comes to adrenaline-pumping action on screen.

Talent and Star Power: A Comparison between Bollywood and South Indian Film Industry

## Superstars of Bollywood vs South Indian Cinema Bollywood boasts of iconic stars like Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, and Aamir Khan who have a massive global fan following. On the other hand, South Indian cinema has its own galaxy of superstars including Rajinikanth, Vijay, and Prabhas, who command immense popularity and loyalty from their fans.

## Emerging Talent and New Faces in the Industry Both industries are witnessing the rise of talented newcomers who are making a mark with their fresh acting skills and unique personas. Whether it's Bollywood's Sara Ali Khan or South Indian sensation Rashmika Mandanna, the influx of new talent ensures a dynamic and evolving film landscape.

# Evolution and Trends in Bollywood and South Indian Cinema

## Technological Advancements and Digital Impact With advancements in technology, both Bollywood and South Indian cinema are embracing CGI, VFX, and digital filmmaking techniques to enhance the visual appeal of their movies. This digital revolution has revolutionized the way films are made and consumed, opening up new possibilities for storytelling.

## Changing Audience Preferences and Genre Shifts Audiences' tastes are constantly evolving, leading to a shift in the kinds of films being made in both industries. While Bollywood is exploring diverse genres beyond traditional romances and dramas, South Indian cinema is experimenting with unconventional narratives and pushing the boundaries of storytelling.

# Challenges and Opportunities for Growth in Bollywood and South Indian Movie Industries

## Piracy and Copyright Issues One of the major challenges faced by both industries is piracy and copyright infringement, which affects the revenue of filmmakers and producers. Finding effective ways to combat piracy and protect intellectual property rights is crucial for the sustainable growth of the Bollywood and South Indian movie industries.

## Collaborations and Co-Productions for Global Reach To expand their reach and appeal to a global audience, collaborations and co-productions between Bollywood and South Indian filmmakers are becoming increasingly common. By joining forces and sharing expertise, the industry can leverage international markets and create content that resonates with a diverse audience worldwide.As we conclude our exploration of the Bollywood and South Indian movie industries, it is evident that both have made significant contributions to the world of cinema, showcasing diverse storytelling, cultural richness, and immense talent. While Bollywood's global reach and iconic status continue to shine, the South Indian film industry's regional dominance and unique offerings are equally noteworthy. With ongoing evolution, emerging trends, and the constant pursuit of excellence, these industries stand poised to shape the future of Indian cinema and captivate audiences for generations to come.

[theomenmedia]

Shahid Kapoor's "Deva" Gets A January-End Release Date!

Get ready for action! Deva starring Shahid Kapoor and Pooja Hegde now releases on Jan 31, 2025! Clear your calendars for a thrilling start to the year.

[stephensmithuk]

The Empty House

Published in 1903, this was the first Holmes short story for a decade. Doyle had previously released - in a serial format - The Hound of the Baskervilles, which was set before "The Final Problem".

ACD had become Sir Arthur Conan Doyle by this point, honoured in the 1902 Coronation Honours, arguably for a pro-Boer War short work he wrote. That's what he believed in any event.

This is the first story in The Return of Sherlock Holmes and the second that we've covered - we did "The Second Stain" previously because Baring-Gould's chronology puts it quite early.

Park Lane, as I might have mentioned previously, is a highly desirable street and is the equivalent of Park Place on the London Monopoly board.

"Honourable" is the courtesy title used for the younger sons of earls; it's also used by most members of the House of Commons. Insert joke about politicians here.

Carstairs is a village in South Lanarkshire Scotland. It is best known in British railway circles as a major junction and the place where the London to Edinburgh & Glasgow sleeper is split up, a section for each destination.

Expanding bullets were also known as dum-dum bullets after the Indian city of Dum Dum where some of them were made. The hollow point is a more modern version. The nastier injuries that they cause led to their banning from use in warfare in the 1899 Hague Convention, but they remain legal for law enforcement use, it being argued there is less risk of harm to bystanders as the bullet will not pass through.

Baritsu is possibly a typo for Bartitsu, a martial art invented by Edward William Barton-Wright, an engineer who had spent three years living in Japan. Combining elements of boxing, cane fighting, jujitsu and Frence kickboxing, it faded into obscurity during the 20th century before making something of a small comeback in the 21st.

Mecca, then under Ottoman rule, is closed to non-Muslims and the Ahmadiyya movement (seen as heretics). Holmes likely followed some other Westerners by getting in disguised as a Muslim.

The "Khalifa" was Abdallahi ibn Muhammad, a figure who tried to set up an Islamic caliphate in Sudan and the surrounding area at this time (1893). He faced an Anglo-Egyptian invasion in 1896-1899, lost and then engaged in a final stand at the Battle of Umm Diwaykarat in October 1899. To make use of a famous phrase, the other side had Maxim guns and he did not; the battle was massively one-sided, resulting in his death.

The "Jew's harp" is a mouth harp. It's probably from Siberia.

"Journeys end in lovers' meetings" is from Twelfth Night.

A shikari is a big game hunter.

Charasiab was an 1879 battle between the British and Indian Army on one side, with Afghans on the other. The British used Gatling guns for the first time in anger and won, capturing Kabul shortly after.

Despatches refers to the fact that Moran's conduct in the battle was sufficiently brave or high quality to warrant a mention in the official report sent to London and usually published in The London Gazette, the official government journal of record. This still exists and is used to formally announce honours etc. like Arthur Conan Doyle's knighthood. Simply put, it is an official commendation - not a gallantry medal, but one may well follow.

The Scotland Yard Museum, historically known as the Black Museum and now the Crime Museum, is a collection of criminal artefacts used for teaching purposes. Located in the basement of the current New Scotland Yard (the third to use that name) it is not open to the public - only police officers are generally allowed in and need an appointment. The Metropolitan Police has a public museum in Sidcup, but this is also appointment only.

[film-classics]

Jeanette MacDonald - The Iron Butterfly

Jeanette Anna MacDonald (born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on June 18, 1903) was an American actress best remembered for her musical films in the 1930s. MacDonald was one of the most influential sopranos of the 20th century, introducing opera to film-going audiences and inspiring a generation of singers. She became known as "The Iron Butterfly", for she was one of the most lady-like and beautiful women in Hollywood, but when it came to contracts, she was tough and kept unwanted advances in check, rarely making a misstep in her career.

She was the third daughter of Scottish-American parents and the younger sister to character actress Blossom Rock ( who was most famous as "Grandmama" on the 1960s TV series The Addams Family), whom she followed to New York for a chorus job on Broadway in 1919.

After working her way up from the chorus to starring roles on Broadway, she was casted as the leading lady in Paramount Studios' The Love Parade (1929), a landmark of early sound films. Despite making many successful films with Paramount, she next signed with the Fox.

MacDonald then took a break from Hollywood in 1931 to embark on a European concert tour, performing at the Empire Theater in Paris and at London's Dominion Theatre. She was even invited to dinner parties with British Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald and French newspaper critics. She returned to Paramount the following year and made more films.

In 1933, MacDonald left again for Europe, and while there signed with MGM, which brought her together with Nelson Eddy. The pair made eight pictures together, including Maytime (1937), arguably the best musical of all time. From then on, they were forever known as America's Singing Sweethearts.

 In 1943, she left MGM and began pursuing other interests. She made her opera debut singing Juliette in Gounod's Roméo et Juliette in Montreal at His Majesty's Theatre. After the war, MacDonald made two more films, but quit the movies altogether in 1949. The 1950s found MacDonald in the Las Vegas nightclub circuit, on television, in sold-out concert tours, in studio recordings, and on musical stage productions.

In her final years, MacDonald developed a serious heart condition. She died in Houston, Texas while awaiting heart surgery; she was 61 years old.

Legacy:

Won the Screen Actors Guild award for Maytime (1937)

Crowned as the Queen of the Movies in 1939 by 22 million filmgoers in a New York Daily News survey as presented by Ed Sullivan

Has 2 RCA Red Seal gold records (one for "Indian Love Call" (1936) and another for "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life" (1935)

Has 1 RIAA gold record for Favorites in Hi-Fi (1959)

Was one of the highest-paid actresses in MGM in the 1930s

Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws in 1936

Co-founded the Army Emergency Relief and raised funds on concert tours in 1941 to support American troops

Awarded an honorary doctor of music degree from Ithaca College in 1956

Named Philadelphia's Woman of the Year in 1961

Is the namesake of the USC Thornton School of Music built a Jeanette MacDonald Recital Hall built in 1975

Has a bronze plaque unveiled in March 1988 on the Philadelphia Music Alliance's Walk of Fame

Honored with a block in the forecourt of Grauman's Chinese Theatre in 1934

Co-wrote an autobiography, Jeanette MacDonald Autobiography: The Lost Manuscript, in the 1950s and which was eventually published in 2004

Honored as Turner Classic Movies Star of the Month for March 2006

Has two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame: 6157 Hollywood Boulevard for motion picture and 1628 Vine Street for recording

[celtalks]

Breaking Barriers: "Manjummel Boys" Captivates Tamil Nadu and Redefines Regional Cinema Success

Manjummel Boys Shatter Box Office Records in Tamil Nadu

The Malayalam cinema industry has reason to celebrate as the movie Manjummel Boys emerges as a sleeper hit, shattering box office records in Tamil Nadu. This motion picture, helmed by the proficient Soubin Shahir, has swiftly ascended beyond the illustrious 15-crore mark, underscoring its commercial success and audience appeal beyond linguistic barriers. Drawing crowds with its unique blend of humor and heartwarming narratives, Manjummel Boys showcases an impeccable ensemble cast, enacting a storyline that resonates with a wide audience. The film's triumph at the box office isn't just a win for the creators but also an indicator of the quality and potential reach of regional cinema.

Critical Acclaim and Audience Fervor

Critics have lauded Manjummel Boys for its engaging script and the superb performances by the cast, particularly celebrating Soubin Shahir's nuanced portrayal of his character. Audiences too have been swept up in the film's charm, flocking to theaters and sharing their praise on social media platforms, contributing to a robust word-of-mouth promotion that has undoubtedly played a role in the film's impressive box office journey. With such a potent mix of critical and commercial acclaim, the film has proven that content-driven cinema has the power to transcend regional boundaries and language differences, reaching into the hearts of movie-goers from all walks of life.

A Milestone for Regional Cinema

The runaway success of Manjummel Boys vindicates the dedicated efforts of regional filmmakers to craft universally appealing stories. The film’s earnings have set a new benchmark for Malayalam films within the competitive Tamil Nadu market, once dominated by local giants and occasionally Bollywood titles. The newfound fortunes at the revenue counters speak volumes of the shifting dynamics within the Indian cinematic landscape, where variety and relatability in storytelling are gaining unparalleled momentum. With the film industry often focused on star-studded vehicles, Manjummel Boys serves as a refreshing reminder that at the core of any successful movie is a good story, relatable characters, and the kind of authentic touch that resonates with viewers.

The Road Ahead

While it is still too early to predict the full extent of this film's impact, what's certain is that Manjummel Boys has carved a niche for itself, potentially opening doors for more films from the Malayalam industry to venture into and captivate adjacent markets. The film's performance is a testament to the timeless appeal of well-told stories and innovative storytelling techniques, coupled with potent marketing strategies. As Manjummel Boys continues its cinematic run, one thing is clear - the landscape of Indian regional cinema will never be the same again. In closing, this blockbuster from the south reminders creators and investors alike that good cinema knows no borders, and given the right platform, can leave a footprint in areas hitherto uncharted. As for movie enthusiasts, it's time to revel in the diverse cinematic experience that Manjummel Boys promises - a highlight in regional cinema's evolving storyline. Read the full article

[msfbgraves]

A new, insidious anti wga take is "Minirooms are good, because group writing produces bad scripts."

I live in a film landscape with very few writing teams. And do you know why Hollywood dominates the worldwide film industry? Because they can produce good scripts incredibly fast, and cheaply. The only reason most European things even get made at all is that these productions are subsidised by tax money. It makes no financial sense to compete with the oiled machine that is Hollywood, they simply cannot sustain the amount of good writers that the Hollywood system can. Writer's rooms with well paid writers are a huge upfront cost, but they are the reason that near everybody in the world watches Hollywood productions. Minirooms can't work as fast, or as well, and that's why they're creaming their pants about AI, because that can work even faster. If that output stops, they're going to lose so much foreign revenue. It's cheaper to program American content, but if there isn't enough of that, it's suddenly cheaper to program other foreign content. Who cares what language they're dubbing from amirite? Maybe domestic movies start to fare better! Right now, Hollywood attracts all the best foreign talent, too - Brits, Irishmen, Germans, Dutchmen, Italians, Swedish, French, Australian, South African, Latin American, Indian, Chinese - the reason they all get cast is not because it's more convenient for the Yanks to hire foreigners they often simply are world class greats. And they can and do work anywhere the work is good.

So no, the US couldn't put out so much good stuff with minirooms only. And if they already hold a lot of foreign chains hostage, saying so much capacity must go to their product - and goodness that's often what it is - if it gets too bad you cannot compel enough people to go see it even then. AI could resolve the unsustainability of minirooms by being faster, but it can't sustain a minimum of quality and that was already hurting the box office.

And sure one good writer can write a very good movie or series but they cannot do it fast, not for long, and even the best showrunners are already understaffed. If Hollywood cannot supply the cheapest "content" for movie theatres, Latin America, China, Africa and Europe are going to program any other foreign stuff, while India, New Zealand and Australia are going to buy other English language fare. Or perhaps they'll dub. Simply put you need a lot of writers and the very best actors to supply the whole world. Minirooms aren't cutting it, even the execs know that, that's why they're hoping to exploit people with theft machines.

[celebmania01]

The Rise to Fame: Exploring Ankita Lokhande's Journey in the Entertainment Industry

In the vast and competitive world of Indian entertainment, Ankita Lokhande has emerged as a prominent figure, captivating viewers with her talent and charm. From her humble beginnings to becoming a household name, Ankita Lokhande's journey in the entertainment industry is an inspiration to many. This article aims to delve into her rise to fame, highlighting relevant statistics and offering diverse perspectives on her remarkable career.

The Early Years: Ankita Lokhande, born on December 19, 1984, in Indore, Madhya Pradesh, had a passion for the arts from an early age. She began her journey with modeling and participating in beauty pageants, which provided her with a platform to showcase her talent and gain recognition.

Breakthrough in Television: Ankita gained widespread acclaim for her portrayal of Archana Deshmukh in the popular television serial "Pavitra Rishta." The show, which aired from 2009 to 2014, became a massive success and catapulted Ankita Lokhande into the limelight, earning her a dedicated fanbase and critical acclaim. Her on-screen chemistry with co-star Sushant Singh Rajput was highly appreciated, further solidifying her popularity.

Venturing into Bollywood: Ankita Lokhande's transition from television to the silver screen was a significant milestone in her career. She made her Bollywood debut in 2019 with the historical drama film "Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi," portraying the pivotal role of Jhalkari Bai. Her powerful performance garnered appreciation from audiences and critics alike.

Diverse Perspectives: Ankita Lokhande's journey in the entertainment industry has been met with admiration and praise, with many recognizing her talent, dedication, and versatility. Her ability to bring depth and authenticity to her characters has resonated with viewers across different demographics. Moreover, she has become a symbol of empowerment for women, inspiring them to pursue their dreams and break societal barriers.

Relevant Statistics:

Television Success: Ankita Lokhande's impactful portrayal of Archana Deshmukh in "Pavitra Rishta" garnered high ratings and made her a household name.

Social Media Influence: With over 4 million followers on Instagram, Ankita Lokhande's online presence allows her to connect with her fans and share updates about her projects.

Box Office Performance: "Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi" was a commercial success, grossing over 1.5 billion rupees at the worldwide box office.

Conclusion: Ankita Lokhande's journey from a small town to the glitz and glamour of the entertainment industry is a testament to her talent and determination. With her undeniable acting prowess and ability to connect with audiences, she continues to leave a lasting impact on the Indian entertainment industry. As she continues to explore new avenues, her rise to fame serves as an inspiration to aspiring actors and fans alike.

Sources:

source 1

source 2

source 3

source 4

source 5

source 6

[bolllywoodhungama]

Baahubali: The Beginning, directed by S.S. Rajamouli, will screen in Norway at the Stavanger Opera House.

Prabhas starred in the 2015 film Baahubali: The Beginning, which was released.

The 2015 film Baahubali: The Beginning, which was directed by S.S. Rajamouli, will be shown in the Stavanger Opera House in Norway. The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra will perform live during the screening of the Prabhas starrer. S.S. Rajamouli, the director, thanked the audience on social media while sharing the exciting news.

Can't forget the wonderful #Baahubali: The Beginning showing at the Royal Albert Hall in London, which is still ingrained in my eyes, he added. Currently, we are anticipating another wonderful film in concert screening of Baahubali 1 in Norway on August 18 at the Stavanger Opera House with a performance by the Stavanger Symphony Orchestra.

In the historical fiction movie Baahubali: The Beginning, a young warrior seeks to exact revenge on his father's killer. The movie was a box office and critical hit, making over Rs 1000 crore globally. It is regarded as one of the greatest Indian movies ever made. In addition to Rana Daggubati, Anushka Shetty, Tamannaah, Ramya Krishna, Sathyaraj, and Nassar, the two-film series starred Prabhas as the principal actor.

Returning to S.S. Rajamouli, his most recent film, RRR, was directed by Ram Charan and Jr. NTR. He and Mahesh Babu are now working on their future movie.