Milk dir. by Gus Van Sant
Despite my long stated policy of not reading reviews until after I’ve seen a film I’ve come across quite a few views on this film. Mostly positive. Course I didn’t really read any of them. I’m not about to go against my own policy that way. But I did notice the good buzz. So maybe that is why I came out of the cinema a little disappointed at this one.
Dina Dalal seldom indulged in looking back at her life with regret or bitterness, or questioning why things had turned out the way the way they had, cheating her of the bright future everyone had predicted for her when she was in school, when her name was still Dina Shroff.
I’m not really sure where to begin with this review. This is a big book, both in the amount of pages and in the amount of ground it covers. Set in an un-named city in India during the State of Emergency after India’s founding it deals with four main characters whose lives intersect in the house of Dina Dalal who hires two tailors and rents out a room to a young student in an attempt to keep her independence.
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Well, I saw myself in more of a … patriarchal sort of role. You know, lots of pointing and scowling.
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