Water
A caption on the New York Times page - "Film Ignites the Wrath of Hindu Fundamentalists" caught my attention (so too Lisa Ray in the poster accompanying this headline). An ominous sounding caption and Lisa Ray! My interest suitably piqued, I tore into the article with grievous thoughts of Lisa being lynched by the collective wrath of a crazed cow-belt mob. Turns out, the article does a quick and dirty review of the film itself, with a recap of the past violence associated with attempts at filming this movie - no mention at all about the "wrath" the film's release or review has inspired. Instead, with the typical condescension of the occidental arm-chair intellectual, it notes that there are 2 Indias (duh! Lady - there are a billion Indias, don't let your inability to count past 2 stop you from naming a few more) with a "disturbing India of the Hindu widow" which "Water" brings to life.Towards its last bit, the article whiffs at the possibility of violence. ("Water" has been screened in New Delhi and at the Kerala and Mumbai film festivals, and there are also plans for "Water" to open in July at 90 theaters in India, riots or no."I don't want to think about it," Ms. Mehta said. "I hope it all works out.")
The article in itself is simplistic and highlights a remarkable film with a story that needs telling inasmuch as "Schindlers List" did, but the condescension apart, the two aspects about the article I found extremely annoying were:
a. The alarmist headline - India has a history of religion inflamed violence, specially in its recent past(25 years). There are bigots, but it has also shown remarkable maturity in the very recent past (2 years or so - for ex: the Varanasi bombings, which did not lead to any sectarian violence, Kashmiri killings of Hindus) which gives hope that we are a nation that has started to make the transition towards restraint in the face of disagreement. There are issues, but the alarmist headline seems to indict an India that has not yet reacted to "Water" either positively or negatively. A case of "Guilty until proven innocent on the basis of past records?"
b. "Water", as I mentioned earlier is a remarkable movie. The movie merits a serious review instead of passing mention as part of a more sensationalist reporting piece. This article does no justice to the art itself, except confuse it with a few known cliches about Indian society.
Anyway - having berated NYT about this, here's my attempt at reviewing this movie.
"Water" is set in the pre-independence past of an India that still exists in bits and pieces today. In the film, freedom from the British crown runs as a deeply disturbing allegory to the same aspirations of freedom that another section of shackled society (the Hindu widow) is trying to wrest from debilitating social mores. These aspirations find form in Kalyani (Lisa Ray), a young widow in a pivotal generation that will fight and tragically loose the freedom battle, while still awakening the consciousness of her older peer Shakuntala (Seema Biswas), thus laying the foundation for an eventual victory (the viewer is left hoping) for Chuiyaan (Sarala). Chuiyaan the 8 year old through whose eyes this story is told, represents the generation after Kalyani which will suffer some of the scars of freedom's battle, but will also reap the benefits of the previous generation's vigorous questioning of societal boundaries. Finally, there's the house-matriarch representing generations past, that has mostly accepted, often embraced oppression as an article of faith and propagated this oppression - sometimes as an instrument of domination and at others as a corrupted last straw with which to ensure survival. This is the generation that uses Kalyani's body for prostitution, while chastising her soul for daring to dream of freedom. Very well carried by the cast (sorry can't remember the names), this is the generation which at once invokes deep sympathy and an equally deep loathing, not only because its thoroughly evident from the beginning that they will find no redemption, but also because they are deeply convinced that divine redemption has already been found in their existing destitute state.Into this already tortured milieu of generations comes Narayan (John Abraham). An idealistic Gandhian, he falls in love with Kalyani, thus catalysing the events that follow.Notable cameos by Waheeda Rahman (Narayan's mother) and a few others (again I don't know the names) include Narayan's father who represents the no-shades-of-gray villain (of all the characters in the movie, the cut and dry black of this character is a flaw forgiven of the Director, because one assumes that the story's tragic turn of events mandates a bad guy) and the tragic fellow inmate of Chuiyaan's hostel, who dies of "condiment" shock after eating a taboo-for-widows-savoury.Though competently recreated and shot in Ceylon, I cannot but wish for the back-drops of the real Varanasi, which by itself could have been an important character in the narrative - a time and emotionless Sutradhar so to speak. The gloss of the Ceylonese version also reduces somewhat, the rawness of the film, coating it with a lushness that is in sharp contrast to the otherwise depressing reality of the characters that call it home.The characters themselves are competently played by most - Chuiyaan certainly impresses, Lisa Ray is slightly westernised for a early 20th Century Bengali Hindu widow, but has an ethereal beauty and strangely attractive vulnerability which carries her character through. The movie though is carried by Seema Biswas, who shines through as the strong-silent Shakunthala. She captures the continuous struggle of the character - the only one you feel, with the strength to break through the oppressive layers of tradition, but also the self-questioning guilt of the yet disenfranchised - and she does so with restraint and flair. It does help that the ruggedness of her looks accentuates this struggle, but her versatility certainly shows why she should be treated as an actress on par with Smita Patil or Shabana Azmi - atleast for a certain kind of role.This is a women's movie (not in the sense of it being overtly feminist, but in that all its central characters are women) and thankfully the male cameos have the sense to look pretty, paternal or villainous (as the role demands), but stay out of the limelight. For that kind of restraint alone - John Abraham can be appreciated.Finally a word about the Director herself - Deepa Mehta does well to not preach from the pulpit or take sides and make this an overtly feminist film. She holds the mirror in a neutral sort of way to a society that has deep seated flaws, but also the inner strengths to correct them. She also does well to end the movie on a note of hope, saving it from becoming an otherwise continuously dark art-house flick.This is a great film - as long as you don't go in expecting a feel-gooder or even the slightly-disenchanting existential angst film. It gives hope, but also forces you to squarely face the ghosts and guilts of generations past
The article in itself is simplistic and highlights a remarkable film with a story that needs telling inasmuch as "Schindlers List" did, but the condescension apart, the two aspects about the article I found extremely annoying were:
a. The alarmist headline - India has a history of religion inflamed violence, specially in its recent past(25 years). There are bigots, but it has also shown remarkable maturity in the very recent past (2 years or so - for ex: the Varanasi bombings, which did not lead to any sectarian violence, Kashmiri killings of Hindus) which gives hope that we are a nation that has started to make the transition towards restraint in the face of disagreement. There are issues, but the alarmist headline seems to indict an India that has not yet reacted to "Water" either positively or negatively. A case of "Guilty until proven innocent on the basis of past records?"
b. "Water", as I mentioned earlier is a remarkable movie. The movie merits a serious review instead of passing mention as part of a more sensationalist reporting piece. This article does no justice to the art itself, except confuse it with a few known cliches about Indian society.
Anyway - having berated NYT about this, here's my attempt at reviewing this movie.
"Water" is set in the pre-independence past of an India that still exists in bits and pieces today. In the film, freedom from the British crown runs as a deeply disturbing allegory to the same aspirations of freedom that another section of shackled society (the Hindu widow) is trying to wrest from debilitating social mores. These aspirations find form in Kalyani (Lisa Ray), a young widow in a pivotal generation that will fight and tragically loose the freedom battle, while still awakening the consciousness of her older peer Shakuntala (Seema Biswas), thus laying the foundation for an eventual victory (the viewer is left hoping) for Chuiyaan (Sarala). Chuiyaan the 8 year old through whose eyes this story is told, represents the generation after Kalyani which will suffer some of the scars of freedom's battle, but will also reap the benefits of the previous generation's vigorous questioning of societal boundaries. Finally, there's the house-matriarch representing generations past, that has mostly accepted, often embraced oppression as an article of faith and propagated this oppression - sometimes as an instrument of domination and at others as a corrupted last straw with which to ensure survival. This is the generation that uses Kalyani's body for prostitution, while chastising her soul for daring to dream of freedom. Very well carried by the cast (sorry can't remember the names), this is the generation which at once invokes deep sympathy and an equally deep loathing, not only because its thoroughly evident from the beginning that they will find no redemption, but also because they are deeply convinced that divine redemption has already been found in their existing destitute state.Into this already tortured milieu of generations comes Narayan (John Abraham). An idealistic Gandhian, he falls in love with Kalyani, thus catalysing the events that follow.Notable cameos by Waheeda Rahman (Narayan's mother) and a few others (again I don't know the names) include Narayan's father who represents the no-shades-of-gray villain (of all the characters in the movie, the cut and dry black of this character is a flaw forgiven of the Director, because one assumes that the story's tragic turn of events mandates a bad guy) and the tragic fellow inmate of Chuiyaan's hostel, who dies of "condiment" shock after eating a taboo-for-widows-savoury.Though competently recreated and shot in Ceylon, I cannot but wish for the back-drops of the real Varanasi, which by itself could have been an important character in the narrative - a time and emotionless Sutradhar so to speak. The gloss of the Ceylonese version also reduces somewhat, the rawness of the film, coating it with a lushness that is in sharp contrast to the otherwise depressing reality of the characters that call it home.The characters themselves are competently played by most - Chuiyaan certainly impresses, Lisa Ray is slightly westernised for a early 20th Century Bengali Hindu widow, but has an ethereal beauty and strangely attractive vulnerability which carries her character through. The movie though is carried by Seema Biswas, who shines through as the strong-silent Shakunthala. She captures the continuous struggle of the character - the only one you feel, with the strength to break through the oppressive layers of tradition, but also the self-questioning guilt of the yet disenfranchised - and she does so with restraint and flair. It does help that the ruggedness of her looks accentuates this struggle, but her versatility certainly shows why she should be treated as an actress on par with Smita Patil or Shabana Azmi - atleast for a certain kind of role.This is a women's movie (not in the sense of it being overtly feminist, but in that all its central characters are women) and thankfully the male cameos have the sense to look pretty, paternal or villainous (as the role demands), but stay out of the limelight. For that kind of restraint alone - John Abraham can be appreciated.Finally a word about the Director herself - Deepa Mehta does well to not preach from the pulpit or take sides and make this an overtly feminist film. She holds the mirror in a neutral sort of way to a society that has deep seated flaws, but also the inner strengths to correct them. She also does well to end the movie on a note of hope, saving it from becoming an otherwise continuously dark art-house flick.This is a great film - as long as you don't go in expecting a feel-gooder or even the slightly-disenchanting existential angst film. It gives hope, but also forces you to squarely face the ghosts and guilts of generations past
