The Bengali Detective (2011) dir. Philip Cox
Documentary

***

By Alan Bacchus

Rajesh Ji is like a growing number of regular citizens in Kolkata, India, plying his trade as a private detective, which due to an ineffectual police force, has seen a boom. Our first impression is that Rajesh, a bumbling, slightly chubby family man, has no business serving the law, except for the fact that he's a fearless adventurer with delusions of grandeur and a strong entrepreneurial spirit. He makes a fascinating first-person case study, which in the most entertaining and easy-going manner, enlightens us to the state of policing, pop culture and private enterprise capitalism in modern India.

Philip Cox follows Rajesh through three key cases: a grisly homicide involving three seemingly innocent youths caught in a complex web of familial betrayal; the infiltration of a counterfeit shampoo branding operation; and a salacious and sexy case of adultery. When he's not in the field or managing a staff of investigators, he's angling to become the leader of the next great dance crew, moonlighting as the captain of a troupe in search of reality TV stardom. Yes, this is a real world documentary.

Rajesh is portrayed with the affable intensity of The Office's Michael Scott and the naive charm of Inspector Clouseau. Add in the strong sense of showmanship and false bravado, like the goofs in This Is Spinal Tap, or the zany terrorists in Chris Morris's Four Lions, and the effect is oddly humorous and tragic in equal measure.

I suspect there may have been some fudging of details or recreations of certain sequences, but the film is as much about the construction of its titular character as it is about Rajesh's investigations. The theme of celebrity runs strong throughout. We all know the idolatry of cinema and celebrity in Indian popular culture, and Rajesh and his colleagues' awareness of the camera actually aids in the overall kookiness of this picture.

Cox captures a unique tone, moving naturally from the unintentional hilarity of Rajesh's demeanour and the emotionally complex, downright tragic nature of his clients. Though Fox Searchlight has apparently been developing a dramatic version of this story, this is truth far stranger than fiction, which is the film's main attraction, and thus any dramatic version would lose all this wonderful irony.

This review was first published on Exclaim.ca

Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey (2011) dir. Constance Marks
Documentary

***

By Alan Bacchus

Anyone looking for a salacious and dramatic unveiling of the drama behind the magic of children's puppetry won't find it here. Elmo creator Kevin Clash is not a psychotic introvert with bi-polar syndrome. He doesn't convert his inner angst into the good deeds of his famous red muppet. The inspiration and motivation for Elmo is love, a desire to create a puppet that brings genuine feelings of love and happiness to children. My year-and-a-half-old son loves him unconditionally, and so his success in achieving this is remarkable.

Cinematic theories of storytelling would say that conflict-free stories don't make for good films. Being Elmo is certainly an exception; it's a character study of a very successful, talented and humble man, which leaves the glossy world of Henson puppetry entirely intact and scuff-free.

Director Constance Marks, with help from narrator Whoopi Goldberg, goes back and charts the rise of Kevin Clash, a black man, who, from a somewhat underprivileged household in Baltimore, MD, turned an innate passion for the art of puppetry into one of the most successful children's characters of all time.

Most biographical documentaries of celebrities or artists chronicle the ups and downs of one's career, the struggle to break in, creative challenges and conflicts along the way, and the overall effect of success and celebrity on one's regular life. The most fascinating aspect of this story is the relative ease with which Clash seemingly became successful.

His very first puppet looked like a stroke of genius. Not even his parents understood how an eight-year-old could sew together a puppet with such detail and inspiration as Clash did. From here, it's one success after another. Before he was even out of high school, he had his own locally produced and broadcast TV show. In his early 20s, he was working for his idol Jim Henson on Labyrinth and eventually, Sesame Street. Even the Tickle Me Elmo craze was accidental and not part of Clash's personal ambitions.

There aren't many warts to share in Clash's life. The only negative part of Kevin's journey is his absence in his daughter's childhood. Clash admits during the heyday of Tickle-Me Elmo mania that he put the jet setting publicity lifestyle ahead of his daughter. The elephant in the room that is never addressed is the break up of his marriage. Clash references the mother of his daughter, as his "ex-wife," only once, but curiously never returns to the subject. Other than his childhood and his guilt about his daughter, Being Elmo is devoid of personal details, concentrating only on the fluffy puppets and dream world of Jim Henson.

But this is no puff piece. Strong themes of talent, ambition, mentorship and righteous decency instilled by Jim Henson's legacy run through every experience of Clash's. Being Elmo, which is wholly entertaining and inspiring, provides us with the same genuine warm fuzzies and good feelings we would get from a hug from Elmo, which makes the film just about everything we want it to be.

This review first appeared on Exclaim.ca