Nearly a decade since this ten episode miniseries aired, Indian democracy has seen winds of change which have only fanned sectarian, religious divides and a pan-national brand of jingoism peddled by the government in power to mark the death of intellect.

Revisiting this series from scratch is a welcome relief and a bountiful intellectual antithesis to the current global climate; an inverted mirror to a culture of increased intolerance and violent antipathy to anything that approaches a point of reason and stability, whether geopolitical, social or economic. The national scenario is just as bleak and mercenary in terms of governance and its larger implications.


This writer is grateful to Mr. Shyam Benegal and his conscientious team of writers, actors and technicians who are able to recreate the actual speeches and waves of thought that went into the making of a democratic nation’s ultimate manifesto. The thrust on intellectual rigour, reasoned arguments as opposed to being argumentative for effect and respecting others cutting across ideological affiliations – all these timeless strands seem lost in time and have been brought to the screen with the diversity of representation. This was a Constituent Assembly that accommodated women, men, faiths, marginalised communities, tribes, princely estates’ figureheads and voices from all over the subcontinent, traversing the pre and post Partition epoch. This represents a true microcosm which we have displaced by dint of fervent, fanatic nationalistic vulgarity. Today, we see a rogues’ gallery exchange barbs and interrupt proceedings with the basest premises around democratic ideals. The contrasts are alarming in a post-modern, (post)post colonial consciousness.

As is the wont with Mr. Benegal, there are unforgettable moments galore, reveling in the simplicity of execution and clarity of thoughts that shaped a massive nation.

All above images are courtesy Google images and IMDB

Sachin Khedekar is a model of practical reason and edification as Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Dalip Tahil magnificent altogether in speech and mannerisms as Jawaharlal Nehru while Rajendra Gupta is his usual humble self as Rajendra Prasad, Tom Alter masterful as Maulana Abul Kalam Azad and Neeraj Kabi wise and heartful as Mahatma Gandhi. Then there’s Rajeshwari Sachdev as Amrit Kaur looking out for women and children of this new world, Ila Arun as Hansa Mehta contributing to the significance of the national flag as well as general constitutional principles, Divya Dutta as Purnima Banerjee, a patient listener and lucid speaker as well as the always brilliant Himani Shivpuri as Begum Aijaz Rasul whose thoughts are always full of concern for a greater future.
All these get their moments to shine amid an extended ensemble cast that is memorably etched, informed by history and the members’ collective foresight. Each member mirrors the original person’s views with precision and attention to detail.

To top it all, there’s the excellent Swara Bhaskar as narrator here. Her parts are shot around the awe-inspiring Parliament premises in Delhi. Watching her deliver her lines and trace a comprehensive history of the Republic with such elegance, the inauguration of the new Parliament complex circa 2023 and handing over of the sacred sceptre to current premier become just exercises in media attention. ‘Samvidhan’ makes it clear that it’s the people and their tireless work that drives our constitutional and societal framework ahead, in deed and spirit.

All above images are courtesy YouTube



Sachin Khedekar is simply brilliant as Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, in Shyam Benegal’s sprawling epic about the years of painstaking effort that led him to negotiate with contentious nations and form the Azad Hind Fauj.

True to Mr. Benegal, there are no technical flourishes to distract from the immersive screenplay even though the first-half is patchy and staged with an awkward turn of events in his journey through Afghanistan. But once he finds shelter and renewed hope through connection with an Indian couple( Kulbhushan Kharbanda and Ila Arun) staying there, the scenario finds its true balance.

Images are courtesy IMDB

The brand of patriotism here is morally reflexive, never in-your-face. Mr. Bose comes across as a man who didn’t want to wait any further for an anti-colonial crusade in his own motherland. He’s a man of intellect, charisma whose powers of persuasion and reason could sway even staunchest critics or despots. But he was not willing to sway to their twisted ideologies of fascism or racial superiority to advance his own nationalist policy.

Once he connects fundamentally with non-resident Indians stationed in Rangoon and other provenances where they are far from living with dignity and marshals his force of soldiers comprising equal number of females and males, the stakes get higher. The storytelling holds a balance here through the expansive runtime of three and a half hours. The cast is stacked with reliable names like Divya Dutta, Rajeshwari Sachdeva, a young Tanishtha Chatterjee, Jishu Sengupta, Narendra Jha, Rahul Singh among others.

Watch it to find the tracts of love, political maneuvers, personal awakenings and sacrifice get a chance to come out of historical misinformation. It’s about the man and his larger ethics of equality and nation-building.



This exquisitely mounted period drama was one woman’s journey to find her identity, stubbornly defying gender roles, earnest strictures and opting for the kind of humour that always came with an anti-establishment brio. It was always about toppling societal scaffoldings that had held her gender down. It was also always about putting in the work as a stand-up comedian through varying degrees of success and lack thereof, always about the sisterhood of caustic honesty and unwavering faith between Miriam and her manager Susie Myerson, always staying one step ahead of the zeitgeist in mid-century America and ensuring that ambition became synonymous with feminism in its true-blue form.

Images are courtesy IMDB

This fifth and final season was further triumphant as it circled around Midge’s career opportunities and advancing portfolio, never to reach one particular point of pinnacle but toggling between present in the 1960s and future. In the latter portions, we find her dreams fulfilled as a veritable legend but not from the stage. It’s the personal stakes that count involving her disgruntled children, mother and even frayed relationship with Susie. Further toasts to this duo’s cresting fortunes over the decades found Susie honoured for her lifetime of achievements as a kingmaker and a reunion between best friends in the late 80s that is heartwarming. Enigmas, though, still hung around Susie and found multiple perspectives. A poignant peek into her past, her only love resurfaced with all the pros and cons of that bonding. Here was an individual who lifted Midge up and knew that love can be fickle but friendships and career satisfaction are the real crowns. She didn’t need to be probed on the basis of sexuality or gender conformity. She was and will remain the funniest, empathetic and uncompromising one to us.

It is also the season that Abe finally realised that all the patriarchal posturings led him to never look at his daughter for the zealous, brave soul she always had been. That moment of realisation, where something shifts within him and his whole view of culture, is as illuminating a fatherly portrait as one can get. It’s buoyed by reason and truth. Ditto for the deepening bonds between Joel and Midge, their looks at each other, conversational ease breeding the familial ties of two people who don’t have to be together to know they are soulmates in the real sense of the word.

From calling out Gordon Ford, a composite of seemingly jolly but innately egoistic entertainment figures, being the only woman among the writing staff of a nationally popular late-night show to finally landing her moment in the spotlight, moving on to the main stage from sundry others that she had ruled or even bombed in, this was it.


The final episode is everything. Sheer perfection of mood, treatment, poetic justice for a patient go-getter who broke the mould. Always. Without relinquishing her human impulses, flaws and innate nature. She just couldn’t lie and was certainly not going to lie down after years of almost getting her breakthroughs.

The audience’s reception, her delivery, the whole brand of kinetic physical comedy from Abe and Rose to hail a cab in time for the show to Susie’s sigh of relief, this was what we yearned for: a real breakthrough and it came beautifully.

Ditto the final exchange between Midge and Susie in the 2000s. The camaraderie, the laughter, the lifetime remained as appealing and as steadfast. Thank you and Good Night.




A woman here is solitary in her lived experiences. Yet her voice and body, her seemingly calm body language and diurnal patterns speak for the rest of the world. Solitary tracks, universal pangs- they become one in this moving tale that gives us a predictable layout of life spent in a coastal California town in the 1960s. That it was shot in the radical and politically active late ’70s, literally a decade apart from its date of setting, and still holds its emotional and personal weight for every discerning individual is a glowing testament to how storytelling is the greatest form of anarchy and rehabilitation.

It becomes obvious here that Jane Fonda is everywoman who’s bogged down by a lack of judicious agency and domesticity, receiving reprimand from her boorish husband for volunteering at the local veterans hospital while he’s out on duty. She’s also breaking out of her self-ordained social position. An army kid perhaps all her life, while the valour and national pride rested with the men, she learnt how to bask in the shadows. But true glory, even the penumbra of being a military wife hardly touched her. When she confesses here that she’s been on her own for the first time in her life, we immediately respond to the implicit backstory as well as the current scenario.

Perhaps it’s the cold, almost clinical misogyny endemic in army circles and present in perpetuity in the only man in her life ( Bruce Dern), a lack of commiseration or plain warmth, that draws her towards the embittered but wise, jolly and empathetic ex- armyman( Jon Voight); the latter especially becomes the voice of a social churning that looks at war as a man-made construct that subsumes misogyny, gender disparity and jingoism to achieve its ends. As a paraplegic receiving medical care and shelter in the very hospital where Sally works, Luke, along with other veterans now rendered specially abled but above all shattered in spirit and soul, calls out the propaganda machine for what it is. He is everyman too.

Both their coming of age is a second act, a point of attachment that finds the former high-school classmates  beaming with warmth and commiseration that comes gradually. Their individual selves become universal.


This army code prescribing patriotism  claims two siblings too, with one losing his will to live( Robert Carradine) while the sister Vi( Penelope Milford) does her best to settle in with the patterns she knows all too well. But both snap. Penelope is also a proud representative for all working, independent women who eventually allows Sally to be enlightened about her own choices. But without any direct gestural influence or making big bullet points on freedom.

COMING HOME lets these interrelationships come into their own, at their own pace, with the mighty Vietnam era acting as an ungainly unifier.

By the final act, the maturity in dealing with the effects of a man-made war that already soaks up every volatile temper and social inflammation finds an honest reckoning with ‘the real enemy’; fragile male egos and the ability to branch out of limitations imposed within any particular pecking order is presented. Jon Voight’s final speech to a hall packed with men old and young signals a liberating honesty that stands tall with every peacetime effort. With a soundtrack comprising of classic cuts by The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf et al, a cinematographic simplicity and a realistic rendition of gender relations vying for something beyond judgements and societal surveillance, COMING HOME humanises the manner in which we fall prey to and then can come out of the very patterns that mentally consume us.

There’s a moment here where Sally realises how much Luke means to her. The way this scene develops, the manner in which Ms. Fonda gets misty-eyed and then she and Mr. Voight design their current history of interpersonal intimacy is unforgettable. Hats off to Hal Ashby, the revered director whose debut THE LANDLORD(1970) rests in my eternal Hall of Fame. This here, too, is something special and life-affirming. The personal becomes organically political and vice versa through the deft strokes from Ashby and his team.



Kelly Reichardt- the storyteller whose genuine humane touch is perhaps as close to the elemental quality of mortal life in consonance with nature that shapes us- wins us over with her triad of tales in ‘Certain Women’

How I had yearned to watch it ever since being deeply moved by its trailer back in 2016. How wonderful to find it in the digital space and gather its serene charm that celebrates the lives of those who persevere even when finding real human connection is gruelling, especially given physical distances and sexist mindsets. The premise is centred on situations where women are ‘thrown under the bus’, as the expression goes.

In that context, Laura Dern is a lawyer dealing specifically with a man( Jared Harris) who’s emotionally battered, nurses a fragile ego, is suicidal and willing to use the gun to get his way. Exhaustion of a challenging job and dealing with an unstable individual shows in her tense looks and professional implosion. Mr. Harris is equally good as Dern here in dealing with a mental fallout that affects his health and future. We have empathy for both. But in the way that she is made to negotiate a hostage situation with her client, risking her life while male law enforcers think of it as just another procedure, Dern gets her final look of bewilderment at this casual approach and realisation about male hegemony right. Of course, she laments that had she been a man, her client would have believed in her line of reasoning and not insisted on having a second opinion with a male lawyer. The details here count. Some said, some left for observation.

Then we have Michelle Williams as a woman resented and given cold shoulder by her husband( James Le Gros) and teenage daughter. A camping trip ends without a trace of warmth for her from either and she’s almost begrudgingly labelled as a hard worker by the man. Turns out she’s a real-estate developer whose career choices are devalued by her husband. His position as not the boss is taken to be a great anamoly by an older man( Rene Auberjonois) whose property she wishes to redevelop soon. That lack of reaction to her friendly wave to the man at the end tells us everything we need to know about the state of ingrained misogyny.  This cold state of affairs is countered by the warmth she genuinely exudes when interacting with him. A disarmingly charming moment is when both discuss about the birdcall in the area. There’s genuine warmth there. But human hubris is to blame for a premature end to mutual sense of bonhomie being developed here.

Yes the man sees her as an opportunist perhaps but it’s her gender that’s the real challenge to his set ways,  the real plank that he places for ideas of ambition and business conducted with the opposite sex.


The third and final segment is, hands down, the most heartwarmingly beautiful and simultaneously heartbreaking. Lily Gladstone, currently finding global acclaim for Killers of the Flower Moon, shows her raw, delicately tuned naturalism as a rancher pining for a lawyer ( Kristen Stewart) conducting night classes on school law.

The diurnal repetition of her work at the ranch, her touch of grace and bonding with the animals there, and her interactions with the emotionally recessive Liz at the diner paints a quietly effective study of human behaviour and building a relationship with someone else. Ms. Kelly is empathetically tuned to her position of racial and social isolation too as a Native- American woman.

The cold shoulders received from  middle-aged Caucasian attendees at the law class, her seat that she occupies at the very end row make up one end. Then in the manner that Liz opens up to her about her wearying job, blue-collar antecedents and the part about ‘shoes’ or shares a horse ride to the diner and back make a charming other half.

Layers of womanhood can be felt here, layers of friendship and bonhomie that never reach their potential breakthrough as the other one is just too distanced or maybe even apathetic. There are great sociological leanings and conditionings one can infer from this relationship where the sincerity invested is definitely one-sided. The final exchange attests to that with heartbreaking results, one of the most moving scenes put to modern film in my opinion. Gladstone does what silent cinema greats achieved- the internalisation and presence in any given moment without resorting to verbal communication. Kristen uses her awkward body language and repressed inner core beautifully.

Operating alongside the cold winter months and intimate, depopulated beauty of Montana, CERTAIN WOMEN brokers a need for human connection. But when it doesn’t come, one’s professional agency and self- determination has to prevail. This is where the storytelling here is so transcendental.



A teacher- student bond is one of the most endearing or fraught bonds comprising human society.

Director Erica Tremblay employs twelve minutes of screen time to present both aspects of that relationship with empathy and tact to spare. Offering a student a car ride to school. Scouting for basic supplies like soap and other toiletries at a casino/ hotel. Being deeply affected by a student playing on his own at recess. Minding a class of pre-teens and striving to broker faith with a troubled young boy who’s targeted at home by inadequate guardians and by the casual cruelty of classmates.

All these get problematised and hence become more poignant as the issue persists in a Native American location in Oklahoma. Economic hardships and personal, generational survey of being have-nots unite both teacher and student here. Lily Gladstone and Julian Ballantyne are pitch-perfect, mirroring two lives multiplied by centuries that still weather the storms of being at the farthest reaches of mainstream culture. Yet they are there for each other. That is the muted source of hope. It is beautifully realised here. Moreover on multiple viewings.


All above images are courtesy IMDB and Google.



When a person makes generational impact like Tina Turner, a life’s work goes beyond mortality or specific eras of one’s creative peak. It’s the order of the world that a person lives and then passes on to another realm. The music truly, unequivocally lives on, endures to touch millions more.

Ms. Turner’s discography has been an indelible part of my life for so many years. My YouTube history and Spotify playlist constantly adheres to her songs and visuals. So I’m here to tell all audiophiles that listening to her excellent cover of Al Green’s LET’S STAY TOGETHER is like being reintroduced to all elements that make her great: the vocals, the sheer confidence and enunciation are top-notch on this funky, irresistible production in her catalogue. Her powers of interpretation further make The Rolling Stones’ iconic JUMPING JACK FLASH her very own, true to her distinctive stature as one of the best purveyors of rock and roll.

In that very mould, count her duet with Bryan Adams on IT’S ONLY LOVE, an electric live affair that’s as mesmerising in audio form. The guitars weave a spell that builds an aural foundation for both legends’ husky timbre to make a mark together.

And there’s NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS, her ultimate ode to her humble Tennessee hometown that revels in the power of memories and the manner in which nostalgia can be full of joy. The funk and R&B touch is buoyed, of course, by the strength of her voice.

Long live the legend. Her discography will always remain timeless in our hands.



Many bonus tracks like WITHOUT YOU and LUCKY ONES ( off Born To Die) and FLIPSIDE( off ULTRAVIOLENCE) have been a part of my Lana Del Rey discography for almost a decade now.

It’s heartening that the soothing power of her subdued vocals, falsetto on the chorus and acoustic instrumentals make SAY YES TO HEAVEN a part of the legacy that began its journey years back. This has been recently released as an independent single but was actually supposed to be on Ultraviolence. Given Lana’s ever-prolific body of work, we are glad it came to us now.

It has all signatures of her distinctive, serene soundscape and lyrically too the idea of capitulation or conflict yearns for a middle ground where reconciliation is sought.

So it’s mesmerising to have the ultimate melody queen adorn our playlist in every capacity that she does. This one being no exception.



Life on tour, basking in the glory of fans, creating music that transcends generations are all hallmarks one can easily associate with Greta Van Fleet. Those qualities constitute a cultural fabric and a personal quilt of security and encouragement for all four members and extended crew.

We can hear all that come together on SACRED THE THREAD, another triumphant turn that is about literally the raiments worn as it is a metaphor for lived experiences that encompass the music and lyrics here.

Hear it to accord kudos to this musical unit that makes our days better and sonically bright.





When these two prolific sisters come together for a musical event, the final result is bound to be enchanting.

It’s the same here where years of discipline and love for the craft lend such a humbling air to this live performance of a classic tune we have all loved for a decade now. Norah’s sweet, dulcet voice and Anoushka playing the sitar in her usual ethereal style is guaranteed to be a music afficianado’s dream come true.

It is for this music lover.



This song just keeps getting stronger with every iteration, whether it’s the initial audio release then visual treatment and now this extended live performance.

Those vocals and instrumental coherence go a long way in making it as close to a modern rock classic that we can hope for. I hope the Grammys are taking notice already.

These boys are blessed with an unique grip on their artistic prowess. It’s time we cheered them on further.



Eric Clapton is a perpetual fixture on my playlist and the artist’s YouTube channel continues to inspire fans worldwide with remastered releases of his classic feats over decades.

Recently, his stint at the Royal Albert Hall in the 1990s have made its way in visual form. The live rendition of Knocking on Heaven’s Door is one of the many treats he has shared with us from that catalogue. Like always, the control exercised on the vocals and the guitar give us unforgettable six and a half minutes here.

With the company of trusted allies, he communicates his deep connection with a song first sung by Bob Dylan and already made legendary by a Guns N Roses cover. The collective musical collaboration on instruments and vocals elevate it further here.



Just looking at the awe she has inspired in little girls and young ladies( and gentlemen) around the world, one can say that Halle Bailey is destined to be a lodestar for this generation.

As the titular Little Mermaid, she has brought to life a woman yearning for personal freedom on screen while concurrently breaking boundaries of representation as a person of colour.

This spellbinding live cut at Disneyland is pitch perfect in the way she embodies the lyrics, wistfulness, hope and soaring notes of a classic tune we have grown up with.

As I prepare to watch the live-action version today, this feat has geared me to look up to Ms. Halle as a woman with extraordinary command over her craft.



Almost a decade back, Stevie Wonder’s ‘If It’s Magic’ made me understand what serenity truly feels like. His voice, the harps and the final mouth organ instrumental are etched in my mind.

So it is such a gift to have Grammy nominated instrumentalist Brandee Younger resurrect the song’s enduring charm on a harp, defining its appeal across generations. Sans the vocals, the aura of serenity is just as beautiful.



Let me reach out to that which exceeds my grasp now/ but remains firmly my destined star.
Let the milky quilt splay itself with these blue tinctures.
The tree-tops reach above/ to receive these dispatches of an early haze


Some await the trains/ Others look towards this painting/ knowing that the artist hides in pale shades.
Resilient champion of yore/ You are the light amid these jaded days.
Oh the milky way!!


These branches,
by some divine accident,
dropped an elusive pearl
by the corner of my hands.

It possessed dew’s succulent moisture
and a mischievous hint of the clouds’ restless shapes.
A bit of nature’s fragrant script
and a touch of my own flowing tears.

But these were tears of joy.
These eyes were filled with an experience.
Eyes that saw this city of lights
removed from its age-old precepts,
like the world’s fair
dazzling bright
by the evening’s perspective.

And these eyes found lights scattered
like a celestial vision
when their colours flanked waves
and filled the river with hues of adornment.


Beauty truly lies with the beholder.
And the one who beholds is You,
windows of your vision
open like the universe.

There is the smell of ‘itar’
fragrant in each memory
and evening’s delicate, moonlit
charm is in the day’s mirror.



‘itar’ refers to the fragrances that are popular in Lucknow.



(In memory of Lucknow’s tragic, historical figure Mallika Kishwar)


A siege of blackguards
has come visiting upon Rumi’s artistry
All worldly affairs
and kindred affinities
have remained in prayers
counted on these last fingers.

What status hence?
What is the nature of this pang?

I’ve felt Gomti’s languid currents
divert their way towards
the distant sea.
All might to be affixed
with the Crown
and the Tazia
has disappeared with this sudden storm,
within my very sights.

A state of siege
remains in these breaths,
an aura,
morbid and languid,
beyond expression.

The Imambara seems to echo
with my muffled cries,
calling out my beloved son,
“come to me,
listen to your mother’s plaintive exhortations.
Across seven seas,
disrobed from Awadh,
she has no shore to herself”

she isn’t beholden to shackles of patriarchy
or her bowed head.
disrobed from the heart of her country,
she is just a pigment,
like dried ink along pages of an unacknowledged history.
Just a forgotten name
leaning by an unfulfilled stature.


* ‘Rumi’  here refers to the iconic Rumi gateway in Lucknow.

* Gomti is the river that runs through Lucknow.

* Imambara refers to the palace and now mausoleum in which the royal family of the city lived including the subjects of the two poems here.

* Tazia refers to the religious procession taken out during the holy months.

* Awadh is the region in which Lucknow is situated.



( In memory of Wajid Ali Shah, Mallika Kishwar’s son and his tragic exile from Lucknow)


A storm of the senses
aligns with autumn.

I’ve let all jewels of my desire flow
and go deep in the river’s depths.

These banks are merely composed of wet mud
where remains of my silence will be found and excavated someday,
in some fortituous era.
Only if you,
removed from reminiscences
of this populous city
and its complex expanse,
would search for this animated soul,
almost sentient in the present.


you’ll find
a peacock feather first,
one or few manuscripts among them.

I entrust you now
my skin.
My reign.

I surrender my artistic vision
to illumine these final stages
which unite Melancholy and Romanticism
as unlikely allies and lovers.
And this boat is trembling
upon this most tranquil river.

Can you hear me?
you mystic boatman,
with a song perpetually dawning and retreating with your horizons.

My beloved flute
has become one with the river’s unclaimed melody
and Awadh’s voice
is crying languidly in a hidden corner
to keep its tragedy a secret from centuries.


A storm of the senses
aligns with autumn.
I leave now.


The above two poems are based on the familial strains of two historical figures from my legendary hometown of Lucknow whose hope, zeal for human goodness and naivete stood out in a sea of colonial apathy and continues to inspire millions.


You see me here/ without blossoms on these shrubs around you/ you give me much more than a glimpse. You give me your eyes.

Spare me another good look/ I will be further away but will be beheld.


The domes cup the city and its ubiquity/ Up and above lies the art of subtle beauty


Watercolours around me/ I swirl with my rebirth each day.
I am syncretic/ I am the seed in this Eden.


I am the messenger/ dutifully perched to catch inflections of a city so wide and beautiful.


These photographs cover such momentous monuments as Rumi Darwaza, Saadat Ali Khan Tomb and Garden, Lucknow Zoological Garden and a personal beloved – the majestic Chattar Manzil.

This writer now expands his poetic horizons to capture imagery of his beloved city with you all.



This impressive, uplifting tune by the quartet has become a mainstay.

The visual treatment accompanying the single’s release few days ago is another impressive feat. The beautiful men constituting the band are framed against nature and the elements while a majestic horse gives it an epic sweep.



That serene piano, Jon Batiste with his diverse musical munificence and Lana with her breathtaking presence on vocals and on camera( in the ten minutes visual treatment) make this cut off DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE’S A TUNNEL UNDER OCEAN BOULEVARD full of jazzy resonance.

It’s a collective thrall Lana has made us accustomed to. It’s as polished and swoon-worthy here.



We have all beheld this historic feat occasioned by the marvelous Ms. Mitchell at NewPort Festival late last year. The Gershwin Prize arc few days ago has made the performative renaissance only stronger.

Cue the audio version of Both Sides Now, with the group of artists comprising the ‘Joni Jam’, on her official YouTube channel. Joy knows no bounds than getting to enjoy it in that capacity.



Jim Morrison being his usual brilliant self on stage, the use of dim lights framing his beautifully pensive face and the instrumental felicity make this live performance of an immortal classic one for the ages.

Simple and evocative.



Long live Jeff Beck. Long live the creative munificence of Eric Clapton and his ilk.

By adding guitar gravitas to a classic tune and a visual treatment befitting its scope, both men come up with aces. It’s a thrill. It’s a joyful collaboration indeed.