Interesting FAN and the Boring star

‘We paid you enough’ berates an obviously stinking rich entrepreneur at the star as he mumbles apologies with just the faint hint of angry pride and proceeds to perform at the wedding. Some more scenes like this could have helped define realistically the star that SRK plays in the movie, ostensibly himself. You cannot miss the Launchpad notification for his son Aryan Khan coming soon. The star SRK who emerges on his balcony to wave to frenzied crowds misses a seriously star struck look alike in the mob below. The FAN has come all the way from Delhi prodded gently by his equally star struck parents doing their bit to support the fanatic fan who incidentally also looks like his idol. This FAN character also again played by the star himself is one of the better etched characters in recent times.

Every star has fans and their presence and numbers define the strength of a star as is often reflected in the fan clubs and  FB pages run by the fans and silently supported by the stars themselves. It is the danger when these fans cross from their real lives into a surreal arena of  blurred familiarity with the star that trouble erupts. The FAN is annoyed at being ignored failing to understand how the star can just not notice his Sohan ka halwa and his years of devotion.  Failing to attract his attention the fan then launches into a neurotic response first by attacking those who he believes harms the star and then the star himself after he is led behind the bars for his action.

The story is actually quite engrossing till this point and then suddenly the YRF banners remembers its old movies with a frenzied Darr type action and the hero decides that no law keeping force will solve his problems and he needs to exhibit his rough street side of Delhi nature as he describes it to protect himself and his family.  The plot is lost by then and SRK who had the role of his lifetime etched out in the FAN suddenly remembers his love for Tom Cruise type of Mission Impossible actions riding speeding motor bikes and swinging across Bond Like across roofs. The concept goes completely implausible from here on.

It is only the FAN character etched out obviously when the team’s creativity was at its peak that stands out authentically defined and enacted. The makeup is almost flawless and so is the gait.  The director does not bother to dwell too much into the surrounding human atmosphere of the star and everything seems disconnected and unrealistic. The Fans character is so good that his parents include the fine Yogendra Tiku pale in comparison. Even the Star SRK seems unsure of how he really wants to be perceived as a star and while there are some chuckling self-deprecatory moments, they are just not enough. His family which could have been the strongest point to underline his fierce protective nature, is played by forgettable characters.  Shriya Pilgaokar playing the fans love interest makes a silent mark. Rest of the characters are completely flat . The movie is incredibly boring and stretched in the second half.

On a whole the film has you rooting for SRK the actor willing him to succeed in his new hard effort to be different and get angered at the lapses into Hollywood type of an action movie without any logic. The film is a missed chance at what could have been a landmark movie for SRK. You return home thinking about the FAN though.

Smart alluring Title – since 1921

Ever seen movies trying to recreate actual relentless conversations without a break requiring obviously multiple cameras and sharp editing. It is what differentiates standard cinema where cameras pause and wait for characters to finish their delivery and then the editors respectfully move to the second camera taking care to give enough screen time to egoistic actors. Now if an invisible camera were to move around, the home of four chaotic but people from everyday life ,as they scream their way around each other and even frighten a visiting plumber, is what it could perhaps capture in Kapoor & Sons as it pans out for major part of its screenplay. You secretly wonder how the director knew this was the way our families operated.

A frustrated infidel hubby, a frantic homely wife with a mind of her own, who loves her two sons but unequally, the two sons one a successful novelist and other an aspiring one, who bump into a lively bubbly today girl who owns a home that one of the brothers aspire to buy.  And hovering over this scenario is a cuddly 90 year old who insists on being naughty much to the delight of his grandsons and casual indifference of his harried son and his loving daughter in law.  There is really no motive to the story to describe.

The dysfunctional family spends its time juggling various balls of affection, anger, jealousy, infidelity, humor amongst themselves and yet they seem untouched by hatred. You like each of them individually except  when they interact painfully with each other. It is like a slice of their life brought to the screen with no start and no specific end. If the aspiration of the grandfather to have a family picture together can be treated as an end goal well then it does have an emotional motive. For he does not believe he will live long though he defies the hospitals and ill health, shocking nurses and grandchildren with his naughty porn affliction and Ipapad jokes.

What keeps you gripped is the effortless and breathless narration as the characters go around their daily lives unaffected by a camera hovering around them. No posing for the camera, worrying about wrong angles, dialogues and emotions flowing out seamlessly.

Rajat Kapoor and Ratna Pathak especially are a treat to watch as the couple over the hill trying to keep their relationship together despite the loud whispers of an affair on the sidelines.  Fawad Khan looking dashing as the novelist perfect son who returns home and is sucked into a complicated patch-up with his less successful brother Sidharth Malhotra. The uber cool Sidharth is besotted with the lively Alia reprising her State 2 type of character, bold and forthcoming.  Rishi Kapoor as the grandpa has a meaty role and easily the best lines that draw guffaws from the audience.

They all look real and extremely believable. Fallible as they are as human beings you pick up one of them as your favorites and root for them. Somewhere in your transparent conscience you know this is the dark closet that exists in every family that remains within the family to be covered by an all is well façade meant for the external world.

The direction works, the hyperventilating dialogue delivery works, the editor obviously had a lot of work to do and executed it efficiently, the music is easily forgotten and not required at all. The cinematography is good while it is outdoors but inside it struggles to keep pace with the relentless exchanges that happen and creates a hurting to the eye transition in some of the scenes.

So then why do you feel dissatisfied at the end? Is it what seems to be apparent  lack of motive for the plot?  The focus seems to be on delivering witty one liners (which works) but not working on assembling the individual excellences together. There is a tearing hurry in the execution. Some things remain difficult to digest. That a liaison in a small town remains unnoticed till a shocked son discovers it. Sometimes you get the feeling that the scenes stitched together make the plot and not the way round.

Obviously the naughty and bordering on the obscene dialogues work with the today crowd but it does get irksome when the talk about blue films and Mandakini s innocent sultry scenes in a Kapoor movie get dragged beyond comfort.  The fact that somehow Rishi’s voice does not seem to gel with his overdone nonagenarian make up distracts. Alia springs to action whenever there is humor to be curdled out of teeny bopper situation. Sidharth is quietly efficient working with his smiles. Ratna Pathak steals the scenes whenever she is in while Rajat wears the role very believably. It is Fawad Khan you leave the theatre with, admiring.  While good looks help, it is the finesse with which he bringsto life  a mixed up personality angry with the pressures of having to keep unto an image, that impresses.

If only the director Shakun Batra had put in more purpose and zing into the extraordinary cast, witty one liners and outstanding editing and less very obvious proxy marketinging of cigarettes as the entire cast seems to highlight the virtues of cigarettes and sutta !!!  it could have been unmissable. Even now it is any day better than the average stuff rolled out every week .When I came out of the theatre I felt it was a 2 ½ starrer but I would not put the accountability of bad behavior in a theatre of the young audience that actually reduced the impact, on to the movie.

***

Madam Sir, We are bored!

He sat scratching his salt and pepper beard waiting anxiously for his star heroine. They had commenced shooting. He looks up as she arrives, doing the cat walk, to where he is sitting. He notices that it is no more the Ms. World Walk. There is a sprightly gait more like seen in Athletic FBI agents. She wears dark Ray bans and moves across with a Tigresses’s confidence. He is happy that she has agreed to work for him but more recently she has asked for a special meeting and he is worried.

The casting had been pitch perfect. A tough woman cop in keeping with the demands of time. This time the time city infested with political goons and police turned bad men, needed woman power to set it right. The area had failed the acid test and it needed ropes. ‘Voluntary’ suicide by the wronged men. But then to get it past the censors it had be balanced with a conscientious law keeper who treads the right side of the law and yet instills fear in all the people. It was so original but then he wondered why no one was enthused till he had said he will cast a woman in the key role.

He had conjured up this this fresh of the oven story where a town is harassed by stinking politicians, their kin, who move around in open jeeps and rape women and commit broad daylight murders. Obviously they had forgotten the acid test or the town had run out of acid. The innocent top politician who is heading to be CM digs his own grave as he dispatches his own friend’s daughter having helped her educate in the IPS and hopes now she will do his bidding.  But the brave officer has other plans. Besides looking very good in a muddy town and wearing what looked like the only set of highly starched and perfectly ironed clothes, she goes around trying to set things right including her own corrupt officer one of the character actors.  She was to launch a full-fledged war carrying forward the legacy of the heroes of acid test movies. So all was set. And then that call.

‘Sir I need to talk to you’. His heart was all flutter. Did she not like the story? Did she want a double role? He had already agreed for top billing in the credits.

“Sir’ she said ending her athletic walk converting into a more athletic pose ‘I cannot thank you enough for having taken me in this movie. But you know that call from Hollywood right for the TV series where I play an FBI agent. Sir it has taken off very well. I don’t know if I can devote enough time for this movie. Sir don’t think I am ungrateful because I have to come back to this industry if it does not work out”

“Madam Sir ’he nodded looking serious’ so you want me to reduce the role? How do we fill the movie? We have 21 face-offs, 11 voluntary suicides, 20 fights, 55 stern one liners expected to win applause and already arranged 60 starched uniforms for you”

“Sir, please stop calling me Madam Sir that is the script of the movie. Tell you what, why don’t you make the corrupt cop as the hero who has a change of heart, the hero of the movie. I will come once in a while, glower, use all those dresses, and throw a few punches that I have learnt at the academy back home. Err I mean my new home.  I will check if there is any copyright to the kicks I will employ here including a few flips over the walls “

“Madam Sir, Yeh aap kya keh rahe ho? Me as a hero. The critics will be waiting out there to tear me apart besides other directors being envious of me for getting in front of the camera as well “

“Sir, Main hoon Na. I will tacitly support you in the movie. Go on do it. But first shave your beard off and look like a cop. Don’t overact that’s all“

“Madam Sir, Ok. I will rewrite the script to make the corrupt cop who has a change of heart and takes over the system in a smart way”

“ Ok cool, Got to rush off sorry dear sir, I have a guftagoo with Fallonbhai and then a photo shoot where I have to quickly tweet pictures of hanging on to some Hollywood’s unknown people’s shoulders like my competitor is currently doing ”

He watched as she sprinted in FBI style back to her car. And she was gone. He had exactly 5 scenes with her and had to rewrite the story to make himself the hero. He got up and looked in the mirror. Not bad uh!

(Extremely fictional write- up.  If it reminds you of a recent movie with a movie with a lady officer and baddies in dusty land then the impression could be purely coincidental)

And in other news Jai Gangajal the new follow-up movie to Gangajal is out. A story of a lady cop dispatched to bring order to a small town where goons outnumber the civilians. The law keepers too have their bank accounts with the political bad masters and hence it is a lone fight against illegal activities for the pretty female IPS officer. She glowers effectively but her walk sometimes gives away that she is an ex MS World but flashes of her Quantico athleticism abound in the few scenes where she makes a guest appearance.

The film belongs rightfully to the understated performance of Prakash Jha also the director of the movie who plays a corrupt cop who goes right. He is not in the least sloppy and turns in a stylish performance and looks awkward only in the fight scenes. He is honestly the best thing in an otherwise boring film with beaten to death sloppy scripts of political goons in a dusty town who need to be finished by hanging them in a spree of mob justice.

Jha usually needs to be lauded for trying to make a proper mix of message and story. But how long can we keep taking in the same story. The length is another problem and with the exception of a few scenes the movie drags badly despite his sincere effort.

Priyanka is sincere but very distracted and lost. Pavan Kaul as the legislator reminds you of Jimmy Shergil and is very promising.  Ninand Kamath missing from the scene for a long time performs the role of a rowdy younger brother very effectively.  The music is painful coming in at all the wrong times and reducing the impact of some of the scenes.

The enterprise then belongs to Prakash Jha who should be lauded for an impactful debut and creating a fresh character in another wise tepid movie.

Wonder if Madam Sir will ever now come back from the glamorous west

The Sad Gasp

The bright part of Indian cinema today is, it is looking so real. In recent times with Talvar, Masaan, or Piku the happy gasp index has been pretty high. Gasping, not because of what’s happening to the characters in the story but gasping because Hindi cinema is finding a new high in the excellence of creativity on all fronts with the directors and actors leading the march.

Neerja, is a biographical account of the posthumously decorated young lady purser, of a PAN AM flight from Bombay to New York via Karachi, who outwitted successfully a motley group of hijackers. With a single stroke of presence of mind she ensured that the story for the hijackers ended where it began. Happening in an era when digital social media had to yet happen, her glory got only a minor mention then. It is to the credit of the makers and a regular advertisement director Ram Madhvani to research, delve and create an almost true to life Biopic.  There is ample evidence of genuine intentions from the first frame on in its sincerity and is very real.

The title role is played from the heart by Sonam.  My personal belief is that the accolades for a good performance are 70% of the director and 30% of the actor. That explains for me why an actor performs with varying degrees in the different roles in different movies. Besides that the beautiful and detailed characterization by the writers helps willing artistes to understand and sculpt themselves to the director’s vision. Sonam does this extremely effectively in the scenes before she gets on board the tragic flight. The scenes with the family including her mother (Shabana Azmi – she deserves a separate para) and her loving father (played with simplistic excellence by Yogendra) are marvelously touching, applause worthy and real.  I keep repeating real because you forget that Sonam is really into the character that you forget the actress. Watch as she walks in from work to a party at home and interacts with the children.

The parallel track of Neerja’s life with the antagonists preparing for their evil act is extremely well edited without ever irritating the viewers.  The movie creates quite a few characters who cannot be dismissed. Shekhar Ravjiani playing the boyfriend, who hopes to marry her while she hesitates due to memories of an earlier broken marriage, is very watchable with  a pleasant screen presence. He underplays and sticks to the background never expecting any big lines. I think he has made a good start and can be seen stepping into roles that was earlier in the arena of Shekhar Kapur.

Shabana Azmi is the biggest gasp factor. It is ironical but actually a treat to watch her execute the role of the loving mother who refuses to believe that fate can traverse the path of her little girl, wrongly. Small touches like switching on the heater before waking up Neerja , giving her those extra five minutes of sleep like every mother does, cuddling her . Wow. Those scenes just stands out of the whole movie for me and flashes the academic advertising brilliance of the director. Watch also as she takes an  emotional tennis ball and shoves it down your throat for a full 7 minutes in the climax, a scene which could have dangerously become ordinary.

Again the hijackers do not look very convincing with the writers focusing only on one of the hijackers Jim Sharbh managing to look menacing and giving a peek into possible frustration and confused ideologies of the perpetrators. He demands our complete attention and seems to have worked real hard on his character.

People overwhelmed with emotions may disagree, but I thought Sonam performed brilliantly as long as  she was in the scenes with her family, a clear indicator of what being in the company of outstanding actors can do to you.  She settles down into a regular execution mode in the hijack scenes with some flashes of comfortable brilliance. She is uncomfortable though in the scene where the hijacker makes her sing songs of her favorite idol Rajesh Khanna. The scene I doubt really happened and unnecessarily confuses the viewers into a tragicomic scene. Another time the director mistimes his actor is when the granny beckons the hijackers to kill her. Slightly inappropriate emotions one thought.

The camera work is brilliant throughout carrying the viewers throughout the narrow fuselage of the aircraft with acrobatic ease except in the beginning few scenes when the camerawork is unnecessarily unsteady almost feeling like a commercial from the Gold Spot days.

A few probable glitches though to be validated are aspects like whether making a V sign during pictures  was that prevalent, modern looking air conditioners seem to dot many of  the apartments  in a housing complex, a color TV at home, a Gypsy ( maybe out just that year?), the interiors of the aircraft looking modern, the door to the cockpit locked in times when it was believed to be quite accessible to the hostesses, guests at the airport wearing what looked like access cards, the large structural pillars of a modern airport, wheeled suitcases , announcements on pushback seats etc.

Art wise what stands out as exceedingly well done are the airport offices at Karachi airport, place where the hijackers assemble their ware, gate crashing through the airport simple approach in those days, the HT offices of Neerja’s father with their type writers.

Diminishing thoughts of how the film could have been even better is the best way to watch a wonderful tribute to the young lady who gave up her life so the rest could live. I think Atul, Shanti and Ram should be applauded for bringing a glorious closure to a hero who would have been otherwise lost in the events of history. Watch it not because it is a great film but it is a good film about a great person made from the heart. It does make you sadly gasp but leaves you having wanted more of the story of the young hero. A certain watch.

3 ½ *

The tightrope code

I almost sobbed. I am a big time fan of this company's products. Today they stand apparently, walking a tightrope, as they couch their consumer's (their ( consumer's) nobility or lack of it notwithstanding) with a safety sheath from the prying eyes of a state authority that nudges them on grounds of national security to break open this cordon of safety.

But no,. our Knight in shining armour rises like David to face Goliath, the state and refuses to budge exposing themselves to possible retribution. They can accede a digital backdoor to a suspect's phone but they are worried about possible misuse.

And all this in a country whose citizens never deter from thumping their chest with pride. Something does not add up.

Maybe it does. A win win for everyone.

The first thing that beats me, is that scientific tools on earth are actually so digitally timid or inadequate that the science can make things travel Mars and come back beating many complex odds, but excuse me cannot hack a digital equipment with state authority?

And the aggrieved company is so protective towards its consumers that there could never have been a more powerful marketing story than this about how secure their product is. If they have to open the back gates as they call it, millions of consumers in various countries in the east which are now eye popping markets will be open to having their data available for someone's research convenience of course.

And if they do not the, state looks oh so democratic and with freedom that is to be envied.

Wonder what the illuminary whose brilliance founded the equipment in the first place could have had to say if he were here today?

Racy Colors - Color Me Rich By Mohan Deep

If ever there was a moment in the future that I had to go off because of boredom, off books too big to finish, I would rush back to Color Me Rich to rid myself of that feeling.  Though it is an inappropriate comparison I could not help feeling that I was back to reading my favorite James Hadley Chases in my younger days. There was a hurried speed in the events. Extremely pacy, almost breathless the narration rarely stops to give the characters any lazy space. Either they do their bit or else they are out of the frame.

Mohandeep one of the most colourful of writers from his days in journalism and controversial writing history thereafter, presents an original unpredictable setting for a story that begins with an artist and a painter Akash Saigal being cleared of any suspicion in the mysterious death of his wife artist and socialite Zenobia.  Just a couple of pages into the plot and the author is already telling you about the core of the plot and how the central characters who are etched out before you will end up. You think it’s pretty gutsy to let go of the heart of the plot but the author has a lot of surprises up his sleeve.

The story makes you gasp as it was just recently where a similar circumstance played out in real life with an artist being questioned by the law for being allegedly implicit in the murder of his famous other half. There are no surprises then that the author gets popped with the question of whether it was inspired or was there a coincidence. Weird because the book released almost at the same time of the incident and besides crediting Mohan’s intuitive sense of story telling there can be nothing to it. But the curiosity should help the sales

Mohan is quite at ease describing the protagonist’s younger days at the art school and scripts the atmosphere quite realistically. He does have an innate view on the conversations in the canteen of a drawing school. He creates interesting characters in the other love interest Suma as also the main protagonist’s support system Pran.

Mohan almost etches out characters like he were writing for a film script. So it is not surprising that people see a movie evolving out of this book.

What I would have asked for more was if he had fleshed out the narration more detailed even if irritatingly so. It was like I was on a local train with multiple trains to change one after the other from different platforms. A run read. But this is also the strength of the book as it never bores you.

Anyone picking up this book for a movie will undoubtedly see drama in between many interludes ready to be enacted.

I would call it a Karjat CST book. You would not want to get off till you finish it.  Try it!

Flood Line

The severe floods in a capital city of a southern state in India recently were the point of discussion. Being away from home it is natural for us to seek out as much information as one can by traversing across different mediums ranging from news channels, online newspapers and social networks. Personally having been in the center of quite some ferocious floods in the commercial capital of the country, I know it can be unnerving, extremely troubling and also a wakeup call personally and for the governance as well. My own personal encounter with deep waters was in Mumbai. I was staying in those days in Chembur. I travelled to Nashik on the weekends to visit my parents and one Sunday I got back by the Kasara local amidst extremely heavy rain, the local delayed by almost 4 hours trundled into Kurla station at 3am. Stepping out I gasped as I saw the waist high water all around glistening in the few lights that seemed to remain lit. It seemed like the sea water had taken over the city. Suffice it to say it can be very unnerving to stand on the steps of a structure surrounded 360deg  by water. Those days with adrenaline running high, it was the dominant fight hormone and not the flight hormone which seemed to take precedence. Today I would probably call it foolish bravado. I walked almost 8 kms to my home in waist high dark waters, trying and trusting the central divider holding the lampposts along the road, as an indicator. With not a soul on the road and passing trucks creating mini Tsunamis and me holding my bag high above my head, it was a crash course in military training. I survived that and also remember  relishing my mother’s home cooked parathas and peanut sauce untouched by the Mumbai waters. Braved and saw many floods after that but not as unnerving as this particular one, capable of giving goosebumps even today.

Floods have turned worse over the years and it has less to do with unnatural rains and more to do with reduction of surface area for water to get absorbed and run away. When we appreciate the neat well laid out cement paths in the thousands of modern housing societies that have sprung up neck to neck in any piece of real estate that appears to be staring emptily at the sky, one could do well to note that it is going to collect water which needs to run off. Just look up at the Sq. kms of clouds spread in height and surface area. With sufficient combination of humidity and gravity they need to come down and cover similar surface area. If it comes down in a hurry it will need to work out its way across the stern and unfriendly cement blocks that are unwilling to accept it. If the clouds are in a hurry to let go there may not be enough time for the water to work its way out of  the new narrow maze created to lead it to the water bodies. So then there is the back water pool that gets created similar to a dam. Instead of a vertical wall what we have done is created a combination of horizontal wall and vertical walls for it to navigate. The sea has its own challenges probably. ‘Look guys hang on, I cannot accommodate the bergs coming downin the Artic taking over my volume and then you come down in a hurry. Let’s flood the land for now ‘

Nothing will change for now except for some serious debates, angry fist shaking at the civic bodies, calling the builders as corrupt leeches, and abusing politicians. All well-deserved undoubtedly. But it is unlikely to change much. The greed is too strong. Why blame only these people? Each one in the world today is bubbling with greed. Not just the politicians. Every one of us working in any field is greedy to fulfil their materialistic needs, be it personal devices or homes. So it is we who finally feed into this frenzy of building which in turn leads to a corrupted morass and nexus of the aspirational and the opportunistic where ethics struggles to find a foothold. We are all equally responsible. So will we stop our own quest? We won’t. Will they stop because of niggly little bothers like floods. They won’t. Everybody is too busy satisfying their wealth lust before they die having accumulated enough for no one in particular! But that is another story.

Social networks are the first to spring to attention for any activity. More than the emotional slant towards an event it is about who is the first to share the morbid news, the first to gather as shocking data as possible with pictures and the first to make comments on the general socio- politico impact of the situation. Everyone has a voice these days. Rather words these days that flows incessantly across tireless bands of the spectrum. If nothing interesting is happening we can even fish out old shocking videos of disasters and circulate them as those representing the latest one in the news. Should shock in short. Sadistic pleasure unknowingly cloaked under pretentious concern abounds.  The organizations of politicians too are under so much pressure that they even start ‘photo shopping’ visits by heads of states to indicate the proximity to the scene of the disaster. Not the fault of the leader but of his PR team for sure.

Then the news channels. When their reporters are not busy trying to find the deepest end of the water to stand in and speak with Asthmatic fits, they also try to annoy poor residents trying to find their own peace and pressurize them to give equally annoying answers to how they are feeling. With a whole city cut off from electricity for their own safety, why would a woman on the street standing in waist high wter, complaining about how the authorities are not doing their job by not providing electricity, will make news is amazing.  Then there are local Charlie’s, hoodlums in their lanes trying to politicize the situation by organizing their own protests and blocking an already bothered population from moving around.

The most curious part of this whole grave situation in a key metro of the country was the lack of relevance for the mainstream media. For starters they seemed to be not sure if probably the city really belonged to the country. For anything beyond a thousand kilometers of the capital is probably beyond their definition of national and newsworthy. A city marooned and turned into an island with 250 deaths may not be exciting enough for them to get the required turn of heads to the TV. So they reluctantly had intermittent reports of the continuing cms of rain that offloaded from the skies. They got excited when a key government reporting channel did the Photoshop. Here was a chance for them to batter the image of the country and in return get the required TRPs.  And once that wore out they returned to their more exciting news of odd and even number vehicle road laws. Wow that must be really exciting.  One thing has happened for sure and for good. The mainstream media had lost their authenticity by biased attacks on the new government and now with the lack of attention to a national disaster have lost whatever little support they had.

The floods must have affected not just the physical property of the people but their psyche as well. It will take some time for them to come to terms that this was not only unusual but very dangerous and that it could happen again. Will this shock be enough for them to demand strong actions to environmentally protect the city? Will other cities sit up and take notice? Will people stop blaming weather systems for their agonies and look at the damage they have themselves caused? Only time will tell.