Santa Claus is red and bearded; Mickey Mouse is a fascist!! (Sic)

"La Faut a Fidel" / "Blame it on Fidel" (2006), set in the France of the wonderfully tumultuous 70s, is essentially a story of change and adaptation, from the point of view of a feisty and determined nine-year-old girl, Anna, whose household changes from one of idyllic bourgeois dreams to a hub of politically-radical aspirations. Her attempts to hold on to her cherished but irreversibly bygone lifestyle, and her chagrin alternated with a desperate need to make sense of the changes forced upon her world, make up for the decidedly ironic and amusing tone of the film.

The arrival of Anna's widowed paternal aunt and cousin from Spain, after the death of her uncle at the hands of pro-Franco forces, foment the latent activist propensity of Anna's father. He ditches his career in favor of aiding pro-Marxist Chilean activists working to bring Salvador Allende to power. Her mother's work transitions from writing for the popular Marie Claire magazine to documenting stories of women and their access, or the lack there of, to abortions. The family moves from a beautiful house with a lovely garden to a little cramped apartment. Money is tight. But Anna plays her part, with a wee bit of over-enthusiasm, by turning off the lights and the heat to help her family. She is also is distrustful of and distant from her cousin, who seems to symbolize these changes.

Her fascination with etiquette and parties of her former lifestyle gives way to unsuppressed annoyance and disdain for the long-haired, bearded, chain-smoking, noisy revolutionaries who hound her parent's living room all the time. A slew of immigrant nannies alters diet and children's stories. Moussaka and pho replace proper French food and dining manners which include peeling, slicing and eating oranges and peaches with a fork and knife. Genesis learns to coexist with Greek mythology, Asian tales with Divinity.

The flawed idealism, irrationality and chaos of the world of adults trickle through the cracks that appear in the fragile veneer of wisdom and infallibility when subjected to the innocent questions of a child, questions so simple that they are profound. Anna is at the cusp of age where one begins to the shed absolute faith in what is told, and starts to question in order to understand, especially when something conflicts with what was hitherto assumed to be right. When subjected to the notions of socialism and group solidarity, she tries to test her understanding of the concept in her classroom. And when it backfires, she tells her parents that she would never trust groups again. Rather amused and proud, they tell her about differentiating it from herd mentality. To which, she asks, "Can you tell sheep from group solidarity? Are you never mistaken?"

Her little brother is a foil to her character. She tries to allay his concerns by telling to him that policeman ticketing their father's car would not through Napalm at them, since it was only used in wars, and nor would he start a Nuclear War. No, that would be job for the Barbudos, the Commies, who by the way were "red and bearded". Francois retorts, "Well, you got that wrong. Santa Claus is red and bearded!" Wisdom knows no age.

As the movie explores these themes of ideology and culture through Anna's eyes, she begins to understand and sometimes just make peace with her new life. While Anna learns to like the new foods, accept her new home, and befriend her cousin, she also gets a taste of the notion of our right to choose to believe in something from amongst a multiplicity of "right" ideas, and stand by it. So when your father forbids you from watching cartoons because Mickey Mouse is a fascist, you would know whether you want to express group solidarity, be one among the sheep or stand out.

Of Muses and Musings

"An artist should only know beautiful people". Or something to that effect had read my English Literature text book on a humdrum afternoon of the sultry Mumbai autumn. Over the din of the rotating dusty fans in the classroom, the faraway shouts of the students in the playground, and the dull drone of my teacher's voice, cutting through the unbridled wanderings of the adolescent mind, this statement registered with me.

It was simple yet profound. Beauty appeals to our basic instincts, it causes joy and inspiration. The artist inspired by the beauty he perceives, turns it into another form of beauty. Almost like the first law of thermodynamics.

History is abundant with the examples of beautiful people who captured the imagination, and the hearts, of many a great artists leading to such lasting works. Thus, it barely comes as a surprise that Pattie Boyd allegedly led Harrison and Clapton to pen some of their most famous works, such as Something and Layla, respectively. Or that Edie Sedgwick notably influenced Warhol, the Velvet Underground, and Dylan. And Gala Dali, Salvador Dali's wife and lifelong model, also took on the double role of muse and benefactor of other painters and musicians including her ex-husband, poet Paul Eluard. Of course, no mention of muses can ever be complete without Yoko Ono, credited amongst other things with the break-up of the Fab Four, Lennon's solo career as a musician, and his much vocal political activism. Although how effective lying in bed for weeks with your muse was in bringing about world peace is anyone's guess, and besides the point here.

It is fascinating how something as capricious and mercurial as an affair can inspire such lasting works. Or was it that the act of creation from artistic interpretation that led to the great passion it inspired? Nevertheless, many of these artist-muse associations were rather transitory and ever-evolving. The talent and intellect of these creators was so immense that they would exhaust their fascination quickly, constantly seeking perhaps the next source of inspiration. But then again, the human mind is limited in its ability to perceive depth contiguously. The need for something fresh, something new, for change, is in our DNA. Even though it often inspires fear and resistance, evolution and reinvention is a basic attribute, it is a cause and an effect.

It's Business As Usual

Well, here goes. Another day of watching people go chest-beating, ra-ra-rah, building grandiose plans with ridiculous names. Of course, we conveniently missed even an outline on how we will attain the goals, no roadmap, no metrics, hence no sense for course correction. Some people here call this the Xanadu train, others call it the Good Idea Fairy. I was reminded of a South Park episode where the boys try to learn about how to run a business from gnomes who steal underpants to make profits. How? Exactly.