The revolution has begun. This revolution, however, is not in our streets. And it’s not in our workplaces. Oh no, my friends. The revolution is in my DVD player.

It started out as a lark. “Honey,” I hear a soft, angelic voice lilt, “let’s rent some of those wacky movies from India. You know, those movies where they break out into song and stage elaborate dance numbers at a moment’s notice?”

“Sure,” I think, “it’ll be good for a laugh or two.”

So it started out with the more mainstream films that one could find at the local Blockbuster. Lagaan came first. Sort of a Bad News Bears meets.. erm… well, whatever other movie is out there with a bunch of Hindi playing cricket ... with song. There HAS to be another one out there. Anyway at three hours plus, the charm began to wear off after the 43rd dance number. THREE HOURS!!?? Did this HAVE to be THREE HOURS!? I read the description and Wim Wenders had NOTHING to do with this movie so three hours is pushing it a bit.

Okay. Okay. I can deal. The shrieking, the goofiness, it all has a sort of charm. What’s next?

Well, Asoka followed with the true story of a much beloved emperor who knew how handsome he was when he didn’t wear his shirt and who never met a bottle of conditioner he didn’t like. What followed was more songs, pretty people finding all sorts of excuses to get wet in slow motion – and another three hours.

The dam all but burst when the plethora of Bollywood titles was discovered for the queuing via my Netflix account. They just kept coming after that. Mast, Devdas, Mission Kashmir, Dil Se, Daud, Chachi 420 (Okay. THAT one was my doing, but how could anyone pass up a Bollywood remake of Mrs. Doubtfire?). Each and every movie clocked in at near three hours of song, dance, drama and romance.

SWEET LORD, people!!!! HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……….

In recent years, I have noted the slooooow attempt to meld this “culture” into mainstream Hollywood. The Guru went by fairly unnoticed, so I didn’t fret too much about that, but then “The Most Beautiful Woman in All the World” showed up.

Okay, she’s a hottie, but let’s ease off the fawning there, Ebert. Yup, Bride and Prejudice teeters pretty close to a main concern of mine. Acceptance. This must stop. This must stop NOW!

Now, don’t think the wrong thing, here. My crusade has nothing to do with race or anything blindly ignorant like that… JUST THOSE DAMNED MOVIES!! No kissing, no nudity, joint-family systems, all these weird-assed hand gestures that confuse the living SHIT out of me… all those double “A”s.

AND WHAT”S WITH THE GUYS!!??

If they aren’t all Rico Suaved out, then they’ve got some crazy hair thing going on or at the very least a bad, bad moustache that takes them one step closer to that guy who sells the knock off perfume at the flea market. At least Japanese cinema has finally stepped up into the late 90s.

Cultural thing, you say? BAH. FEH. Jam your cultural thing. I know better. We must fight this, brothers and sisters. There can be no good that will come of this. (But, Chachi 420 IS quite the hoot…).