A rough and unsparing film.
Krishna Bala Shenoi is a 19-year-old Bangalore native who enjoys
creating short films, making storybooks, doing illustration, eating his
mother's food, and occasionally trying his hand at writing, animation,
and making music. And, of course, he loves going to the movies.
His role models are Steven Spielberg (who praised Shenoi's tribute to him), Ray Harryhausen and, most of all, Roger Ebert
Shenoi posts selected items from his work on his website.
Krishna Bala Shenoi shares artwork inspired by the films of Ebertfest 2014.
Ray Harryhausen told us, time and again, the story of how he saw the original "King Kong" (1933) on the big screen when he was just a kid, of how he was inspired by Willis O'Brien's pioneering special effects, and of how that led him to his grand career in the field of stop-motion animation. In some sense, Harryhausen inspired me in the same way that O'Brien did him. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he changed my life.
In my copy of his book "Scorsese," Roger Ebert wrote these words: "Every movie lover needs a hero."
I've found mine in Steven Spielberg.
Spielberg has been my hero ever since I, in my childhood, saw his more popular films (" Jaws," "Temple of Doom," "Hook," " E.T.," "Close Encounters," et al.), but recently, as I covered areas in his filmography I hadn't before, and doubled back to some that I didn't quite remember, I was struck by how much he really is my hero.
It seems to be an unwritten rule that every superhero origin movie should have a scene in which the main character excitedly experiments with his or her powers before fully donning the mantle of the titular hero.
Consider the scene from "Spider-Man" in which Peter Parker scales walls and jumps from building to building joyously, or the one from "Iron Man" in which a reckless Tony Stark flies too far into the higher reaches of the atmosphere just to break that altitude record, or that scene from "Superman" in which the young Clark Kent races with a train.
Of late, I've been thinking about how I got here. Here, in love with movie watching and movie making. Here, in a design school in India, and not an engineering college or a medical school like predetermined for most Indian students. Here, in correspondence with a huge role model of mine. Here, doing what I love.
No one is certain about dreams. If they tell you they are, they're either fooling you or themselves. There isn't a universally accepted definition of dreams. The whole idea behind them isn't wholly understood. Even scientists aren't sure about the purpose of dreams. And most of us don't understand, or heck, even remember, our own dreams.My moseying around different blogs and websites has brought me a bit of random knowledge about the subject. I read there are two kinds of dreams: Authentic and Illusory. Authentic dreams are those that reflect actual memories and experiences of the dreamer. I guess that would mean they stick to the laws of physics and stuff too. Illusory dreams, on the other hand, contain impossible, incongruent, or bizarre content. Dali-esque stuff, maybe?I guess my brain must be messily wired or something, as I have, or at least remember having, mainly illusory dreams.
Dear Mr Robert Zemeckis Sir,
My name is Forrest. Not Forrest Gump, but Forrest Narayan. I am ten years old.
I have two brothers and their names are Marty and Satyajit and Marty is twenty years old and Satyajit is six and three quarters.
Back then, I could watch Max Fleischer's Superman cartoons forever and never get bored. Today, the case is almost the same. Oh, those films have some of the finest animation I've ever seen--even by today's standards, the animation is phenomenal, right from the fluidity of the movements of the characters to the uncanny weight of the objects. The characters and objects had shadows too.