Hotel California...

The timeless Eagles number is my title today, and I draw your attention to the closing lines of the song. It goes:

"Last thing I remember,

I was running for the door,

Had to find the passage back,

to the place I was before.

Relax said the Nightman,

we are programmed to receive,

You can check out any time you want,

but you can never leave! "

The immortal last para is the unwritten motto of every service provider in India.

A 'pre-approved credit card', a 'pre-loaded caller tune', a 'free-trial' depository/mutual fund investment service' a 'one-click add-on TV channel' - these are things that are easy to start.

Check-in is quick, painless.

Try to unsubscribe or return any of them, and sure enough, you're in the territory of the masochist. Endless, mind-numbing pain.

I've screamed at call center creatures, threatened 'relationship managers' with consumer courts, physically cut-up and mailed back 'free' credit cards...I've been around this block a few times.

My latest is my experience in "unsubscribing" my ESPN-Star add-on package from Tata Sky.

Golf just doesn't swing it for me and Formula One leaves me bored, so most of the year, I prefer to stay un-fashionably, un-manli-ly (I can make up words too, Arundati :-), un-sporty.

When cricket comes up, most of the India games are free on the national broadcaster Doordarshan, so, I don't quite miss ESPN-Star.

I had to make an exception for the FIFA World Cup. I signed up. It was easy.

I just had to check a box on the Tata Sky website, pay online with my card and sure enough, South Africa was in my box every evening.

Now that the Cup has been won and all that remains is for the Octopus to be divvied up between Germany and Netherlands and eaten, I logged on to TataSky, to 'uncheck' my subscription. No such luck.

I searched the entire website, but there was no exit door in sight.

Finally, I googled it and realised that many others had gone down this road before me. The only way to unsubscribe was to call TataSky on the phone.

After being call-centered (subject to endless hold music, recorded promotions & inane questions about my mother's maiden name/date of birth) the TataSky 'Ass-ociate' also wanted to know my reason for wanting to unsubscribe. She went on to explain the 'wide world of sports' that I was shutting out through my actions, how my children would be worse of for it, mildly hinting that they would grow up to be wusses and so on.

But i was ready. I had my best rhino hide on, and kept repeating my request to unsubscribe, till she finally gave in. I am, as of now, ESPN-Star-less again.

I've learnt the hard way that the best way to avoid these situations is to nip them in the bud, however enticing and harmless they may sound in the beginning. These things only get worse with time.

Whether its the mysterious MFIF ('mutual fund investment facility') Rs.110.25/- charge that shows up innocently on my bank statement or the the caller tune that's offered free for a month, I say no right away, firm and loud.

Private marketeers know how we think. They're banking on our weakness for free stuff, our not remembering later, our 'letting it slide'...in short, they're putting their kids through college, solely on their understanding of our human nature.

They know that once we've checked in, we are unlikely to move our backsides to check out, much less leave.

Refreshing Chillies...

Non-spoiler alert: This review does not give away any plot points

Shukno Lanka (Dry Red Chillies), (Bengali film with English subtitles), lives up to its name, adding an unnameable, yet distinctive and interesting flavour to a filmgoer's range of celluloid experiences.

P and I caught it at a special Film Club screening at the India Habitat Centre in New Delhi last night. So before I get into the film itself, a little bit about the evening.

Some of the cast and crew were in attendance; Director (Gaurav Pandey, also Director of the Hindi film 'Striker'), the cinematographer Mahesh Ane (good work in the film), the 'blond' attraction Emma Brown (who plays a brunette film actress in the movie, but impressed everyone at the screening with her single, rapidly delivered line of Hindi - "Mere baal safed hi acche hain, nahi?") and the star attraction of the evening, the truly 'evergreen' Mithun Chakraborty (as opposed to Dev Anand, who's a bit of a caricature of himself now, so can we have the title back please, sir?).

Mithunda held the media and audience alike in his sway with his straight-speak, though our collective patience was worn thin by the length of the Q&A session.

For one, the session would have made more sense after the viewing. All the same, Mithunda fielded the usual mix of inane, desperate-for-attention and borderline decent questions lobbed at him with flair and sincerity.

He told us the title of the film was meant to allude to the film's protagonist, Chinu Nandy, who plays an 'extra' (supporting artist) in the Bengali film world. "They are like the dry red chillies that we add in our (Indian) cooking...they don't have a strong taste of their own, but the do have a distinctive flavour...one that we would miss if they were not there..." he said.

Director Gaurav Pandey went out on a limb at the event and called Mithunda "the only star in Bollywood who can act..." Hmm...I agree Mithunda can act, but is the only star who can? Fight hai boss...

He also praised Mumbai Mantra, the film's producers, who have taken a risk with the film, releasing as many as 9 prints each in Mumbai and Delhi, simultaneous with the West Bengal release. I have no arguments with this statement --- it is bold film economics, and I hope it works out for them.

One last titbit from the evening, before I get to the film itself: It was endearing to hear the Marwari Producer representing Mumbai Mantra call the film Shukno 'Lan'-ka (like the country) instead of the Bengali pronunciation of 'Lon' ka. (Mithun da himself does a brilliant job of inverting this accent equation in the film, when he speaks his 'Bangal-Hindi' to the car and tanga drivers, both native Hindi speakers)

On to Shukno Lanka now.

It begins a little slowly, then picks up pace and once the inciting incident occurs, it hooks and reels you in.

Chinu Nandy (Mithun da), a struggling supporting actor in Kollywood, lives a fringe life, but is not unhappy. This nuance itself sets the film apart from earlier angst-ridden films on this subject.

Chinu's simple existence is threatened when, a much-feted 'art' film director, Joy Sundar Sen (played very well by Sabyasachi), casts Chinu as the protagonist of his latest film.

This is the inciting incident that sets the core story in motion. Chinu suddenly has to 'live' again. He must dare to dream, and live up to the dream. The beauty of this struggle and the unique perspective it offers on the human condition, is the USP of the film.

The characters are all well etched out (and are played by good actors) ; Chinu himself (Mithun Chakraborty), as a man suddenly granted (at 50-plus) the spotlight that he craved for in his 20s gives us most of the 'lump-in-the-throat' moments.

His simple, non-nagging, TV-soap watching housewife, (played brilliantly by Angana Basu), Joy Sunder Sen, the articulate, but emotionally locked up film director (played by Sabyasachi very well), Debasree as his borderline neurotic wife, trying desperately to win his attention, and so on...they're all good.

Now for the bits that, in my opinion, could have been done differently, and made the film better. In this film, I've only got two points to make.

First, length. Like his first release, 'Striker', Director Pandey again works on a wide canvas, weaving many threads of stories and tries to complete each meticulously. In the process, I feel, he loses out on the impact of some cinematic "moments". Just when you think you've hit a lovely movie 'high', especially towards the end of the film, you realise there is more to go...some of the material that follows is not as 'high' and seems to have been included just because all sub-story lines must be completed. That can be a bit of a let down. The film could have been chopped down by 10-odd mins at least.

Second, the songs. The first one, in a disco, is clumsy in execution, but mercifully short. The second though, which is picturised as part of the post-shoot wrap up party of Joy's film in the movie, is painfully long, and has only Debasree doing the usual Bengali atel-type (intellectual) moves, a-la-Ananda Shankar, endlessly.

If the songs are there as a commercial element, they sadly miss the mark. If not, they serve little purpose and the second one looks especially like a home video of self-indulgent Bongs doing the whole "intellectual-letting-hair-down-after-a-few-drinks" routine. I have been unhappily subject to this a few times in Calcutta and in art, as in life, I dislike this part of Bong-ness intensely.

Barring these two minor hiccups though, I liked the film and so, I'll leave you with a nice thought; if like me, you like the softer Bangal dialect of the Bengali language, its smooth flow, fewer-harsh consonants, etc, the domestic banter between Chinu and his wife is a lovely added bonus in the film.