I am also a Vespa scooter. But this has nothing to do with being a Hustwit fan.

Or maybe it has.

I was introduced to Gary Hustwit when I had seen his directorial debut, Helvetica, a documentary film about typography, graphic design, and Helvetica. The wealth of information and perspective that Helvetica had to offer, combined with Hustwit’s brilliant direction, was enough to convince me that documentaries don’t have to be boring. So naturally, when I came to know that Hustwit’s next documentary, Objectified, has been released, I couldn’t wait to see it.

In simple words, Objectified is about objects and the people who design them. If you want to be more sophisticated, Objectified is about industrial design. And if you want to be more verbose, Objectified is about all the objects that we see around us, and discusses the way they are designed, the way they are used, the way they are valued, and the way they are discarded.

After watching this movie, you won’t look at any object the way you used to look at it earlier. Even if for a short while, you will wonder about the handle of your toothbrush, or the toothpick that you use, or the gadget that you buy, or the cars that you drive, or the chairs that you sit in. It’s simply amazing how all of the objects that we use everyday have gone through so many design iterations and changes and we don’t even think if there’s a complex design process associated with them. I mean, really, have you ever wondered why a spoon looks like the way it looks? Or more importantly, how a spoon was given the shape that it looks like? Someone, somewhere, had sat down and assessed the merits and demerits of a spoon’s shape, and even though it appears to be a trivial task, it is certainly not.

Just like in Helvetica, Gary Hustwit manages to bring some influential designers in Objectified too, and their comments and views are refreshing, entertaining, and thought provoking. Each and everyone of them has something unique to offer — I personally liked the design principles stated by Braun‘s Dieter Rams (examples: “Good design is honest” and “good design is as less design as possible”). There are discussions about an object’s sustainability and how it clashes with a manufacturer’s objective of selling, and people’s lenient attitude towards poorly designed objects. Also, being a software guy, I was excited to note the mention of software interfaces in Objectified, but then reminded myself later that software design is after all just a small topic under the vast umbrella of design.

Another interesting thought that I related to was stated by Rob Walker near the end, who noted that the objects that we really hold dear to ourselves are not necessarily those that are better designed, but those that have a personal story attached to them. Or, perhaps, they are those objects in which we see a bit of ourselves (this bit of wisdom belongs to yours truly, not to Rob Walker, so don’t take it too seriously). In fact, PBS even have an interesting quiz (which came online at the time of Objectified’s US television debut) that tells you which object you are. I turned out to be a Vespa scooter.

I am actually quite pleased with the result; my late Nana ji used to drive a Vespa scooter.

So, anyway, you may or may not be a design buff, but if you get a chance of watch it, don’t miss Objectified.

And Gary, I am waiting for your third film.

If you have even the slightest interest in typography and graphic design, then there is no way that you can miss “Helvetica“.

I came to know about this documentary movie somewhere in the end of last year, when I was surfing through the web, looking for information about the typeface Helvetica. A few years ago, I would have easily mistaken Helvetica for Arial (a typeface “based” on Helvetica, and found on every Windows box that exists) and vice versa. I remember that back in 2006, when I was looking for inspiration for designing the theme of this ulta seedha corner by browsing different websites in different CSS galleries, I had come across a website which considered you lucky if you had Helvetica installed on your computer, and offered its sympathies if instead you had to be contented with Arial. That was the first time when I became consciously “aware” of Helvetica and started frowning on Arial. Now some of you quick-witted readers might object that if I frown on Arial, why have I chosen it for the current theme of my blog? And my answer is, that the first typeface tried by this theme is Lucida Grande (if you are lucky), and Arial is only used (with my sympathies attached) when Lucida Grande is not found on your computer.

(By the way, for the curious, here and here are good comparisons between Helvetica and Arial.)

Anyway, back to the documentary movie. Surprisingly, I enjoyed watching it, and there are several reasons for it. One, it has a wealth of history and knowledge, which was pretty interesting for a noob like me. Two, it is full of candid shots that show Helvetica’s ubiquitous use for almost everything. (There’s one shot of an old PIA logo as well, in which the letters P, I, and A were set in Helvetica). Three, it contains interviews with some distinguished graphic and type designers, and these interviews are simply amazing (sometimes hilarious). And four, its soundtrack is pretty darn good!

Another very interesting thing that I found in “Helvetica” was that it presented the views and opinions from periods of both modernism and post-modernism. Helvetica came into being in the modernist period, where everything was neat and clean and defined by a set of rules. The post-modernist period was the exact opposite, which emerged as a rebellion against the ubiquitous (and consequently, dull) uniformity of modernism (and Helvetica). For example, Wim Crouwel, who declared himself as a lover of modernism, says,

We were impressed by that because it [Helvetica] was more neutral, and neutralism was a word that we loved. It should be neutral. It shouldn’t have a meaning in itself. The meaning is in the content of the text and not in the typeface.

On the other hand, Stefan Sagmeister quips,

If I see a brochure now with lots of white space that has, you know, like six lines of Helvetica up on the top, and a little, you know, sort of an abstract logo on the bottom, and a picture of a businessman walking somewhere, the overall communication that that says to me is, “Do not read me, because I will bore the shit out of you!”

Then there are others who express their opinions in very peculiar ways; one saying that Helvetica is a timeless thing which shouldn’t be messed with, and the other accusing the same Helvetica for starting the Vietnam war.

After watching the movie, I couldn’t help but compare the graphic design and typograhy of the West with that of the East. Being a noob, I have no idea about the evolution of graphic design in Pakistan (specially when it comes to Urdu). Though there is one thing that suddenly struck me after watching “Helvetica”: the ubiquity of Noori Nastaliq* (made popular by InPage). In a way, Noori Nastaliq is Urdu’s Helvetica, used for almost everything and almost everywhere. Though I also believe that this overuse of Noori Nastaliq is not because of its brilliance, but rather due to the lack of options for digital typesetting in Urdu. (Now this might become the topic of another post. Hmm.) I am no expert, by the way, so don’t take my opinions too seriously.

Anyway, the bottom line is same as the opening line: if you like typography and graphic design, then go watch “Helvetica”. You’ll enjoy it.

* scroll down a bit on that page to see a sample of Noori Nastaliq

(Poster image above is taken from the website of “Helvetica”.)

Talking might be against good movie manners, but when the first shot of a place in Thar Desert appeared on the wide screen in front of us, Talha leaned towards me and whispered, “Man, I want to visit this place.”

This is the first impression of Ramchand Pakistani that you get: it’s visually stunning. Though for me, it was the second impression; more on the first impression later.

Mehreen Jabbar certainly does not disappoint with her first feature film. She already enjoys a well-deserved reputation as a TV director, and with Ramchand Pakistani, she has proved again that she knows what she does.

I am sure you all know what the film is about. Shankar and his wife, Champa, are Dalit Hindus who live in a small village of the Thar Desert near the Pakistan-India border. One day, their eight year old son, Ramchand, accidentally crosses the border and is arrested by Indian authorities. Shankar follows his son and gets arrested as well. Rest of the movie keeps switching between Shankar’s and Ramchand’s harsh experiences in an Indian jail, and Champa’s gloomy helplessness as she waits for her husband’s and son’s return. All of this might not have been that big a deal, but for the three of them, the timing couldn’t be worse: it’s 2002, and both Pakistani and Indian armies are on high alert.

At first, it might seem that Ramchand Pakistani is going to address the political relationship between Pakistan and India, and will throw a Hindu family in just to kickstart the political ramblings. But actually (and thankfully), the film is more about a family torn apart due to unfortunate circumstances between two neighbouring nations. Politics only enter to let the viewer know why this family has to suffer the way it is suffering. Yes, there are many lines (specially in the jail scenes) about Pakistan-India relationships, but those are similar to the gossip we do sitting in our homes’ drawing rooms. At times of high tension like the one mentioned in the film, everyone will talk about it, and so do the characters in the film as well.

As Mehreen Jabbar explains in an interview, the synopsis of the story was “discovered” by her father, Javed Jabbar (Pakistan’s former Minister of Information), when he met a father and his son in the Thar Desert. The screenplay that was then build upon that synopsis by Mohammad Ahmed is quite impressive. One might argue that people living in the Thar desert do not speak such clean Urdu as Champa does (or if they even speak Urdu), but one might also ignore it in favour of poetic license.

Acting in Ramchand Pakistani is absoultely superb. Young Syed Fazal Hussain is very convincing as the eight year old Ramchand, and I found his non-verbal expressions (like the glares he shoots at prisoner guards) pretty impressive. Also remarkable is the performance of Navaid Jabbar, who plays the four years older Ramchand, and considering that this is the first time he has ever acted, he makes a solid impression. Rashid Farooqui as Shankar is terrific as always, and Nandita Das as Champa is also brilliant. Shahood Alvi as the Muslim prisoner superintendent, and Noman Ijaz as Abdullah (a Muslim man Champa gets infatuated with after her husband’s disappearance) are also a treat to watch. And, of course, there is Maria Wasti as Kamla, the police officer who cares for Ramchand in the prison even though he is a Dalit, and whose tongue fires obscenities at anyone who dares to cross her. (There was an entire row of girls ahead of ours in the theater, and their giggles resonated every time Kamla insulted someone.) Other actors who portray different prison inmates also do their parts well. In particular, I liked Saleem Mairaj, who gives a strong performance as a disturbed artist, sketching and eating pictures of Bollywood actresses torn out of magazines.

The background score was also awesome. Shafqat Amanat Ali Khan and Shubha Mudgal use their vocals to make the viewer feel for the characters. The score also includes some folk Sindhi songs, which simply elevate the watching experience.

One thing that I didn’t like about Ramchand Pakistani is the narration at the beginning and at the end. The person who voiced the narration has a famous voice, which is heard in most TV advertisements, and is probably the same person who provided the voice for Commander SafeGuard. In Ramchand Pakistani, however, he seems to be doing just that: narrating lines for an ad and not for a movie. Call me weird, but that was the first impression I got of the film, that Mehreen Jabbar could have used a better person for narrating the opening and ending lines. Talat Hussain, for example.

All in all, I enjoyed watching Ramchand Pakistani. It’s simple, tells the story well, and unlike Khuda Kay Liye, it doesn’t try to force its message upon its viewers. Do watch it if you can, but make sure you don’t get your seats behind an entire row of giggling girls, who for the first half an hour or so, kept discussing why someone from their group wasn’t there yet. Talking in theater sure is bad movie manners.

(Picture taken from official website of Ramchand Pakistani.)

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