Firaaq- a separation or a quest?

All the websites tell me that the Urdu word “Firaaq” can mean both separation and a quest. And being an Urdu-illiterate that I am, I have no other choice than to accept both meanings of the word. Actually both these meanings fit very well into the context of the recent film “Firaaq” by the actor-director Nandita Das. The film chronicles a slice of everyday life in post-Godhra-riot Gujarat. Bearing an ensemble cast of actors ranging from veterans like Naseeruddin Shah and Deepti Naval, to new generation actors like Shahana Goswami and Tisca Chopra, “Firaaq” shows people trying to come in to terms with personal disaster, trauma and the general disheveling effect that the riots had on them.

In an ambience where communal tension lurks around at every turn, a struggling couple return from their hidings to find their house completely burnt down, and the wife Muneera (Shahana Goswami) starts suspecting the complicity of her own best friend in the crime, while her husband is sweeped into a rage of hatred and tries to acquire weapons illegally to avenge himself on people who brought upon this misfortune on him . Three helpless men, beyond themselves with rage, try to locate and obtain a pistol to shoot a local goon who killed their loved ones in a riot. A wealthy doctor Sameer Shaikh (Sanjay Suri) and his wife Anuradha (Tisca Chopra) try to leave the riot ridden land and relocate to Delhi after his shop was burnt down. A little, orphaned boy Mohsin (Mohammad Samad) searches for his lost father in the refugee camps and away from it. A shrewd and materialistic man (Paresh Rawal) tries to help his brother who participated in a gang rape during the riots, while his wife (Deepti Naval) still tries to cope with the nightmares of the riot. The film claims to be based on a “thousand different true stories”. Indeed, the camera weaves these disjointed every day events into one motley fabric whereby every one is reaching out in a quest of peace, or a lost loved one or one’s own lost dignity.

The film has been made well enough to strike a chord in the hearts of any audience across cultures and geographical boundaries. For a film that has almost minimal violence shown on screen, the palpable communal tension in the air, the subliminal violence ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation, the air of mutual distrust, the fear of being the next victim looms on every character of the film, and carries well out to the audience. A powerhouse performance comes from Naseeruddin Shah, who portrays an aged musician lost in his world of poetry and ghazals, while his manservant (Raghuveer Yadav) tries to keep the grisly news of the riots as far away from him as possible. Deepti Naval, who makes a terrific comeback gives a, there-is-no-other-word-for-it, haunting portrayal of a housewife, shaken by the violence around her. It is good to see Das behind the camera and her obvious control and mastery over the art of film-making. A few years of experience, and we could have a poignant, observant film-maker, which India is in dire need of, to at least give hindi cinema a decent platform in the arena of world cinema.

Perhaps the most powerful and poignant shot of the whole film is the last one, where the camera focuses on young Mohsin’s face, who sits supporting his back on a wall in the refugee camp, anguish written all over his face, as he scans the crowd for his father. That shot, with the story of loss and cruelty etched upon the face of his innocence raises a question that is pertinent over the barriers of nature, politics and of course, religion- is this the world that the children inherit today?

Kudos to the Concubine

There are some films telling stories about people, and some others telling stories of times and eras. Then there are some rare films which manage to do both equally well. Kaige Chen's "Farewell, my concubine" is one such film. Through the life of two men and a woman the film chronicles fifty years of Chinese history and the changing fate of Beijing Opera with time.

Two young boys, Shitou and Douzi, grow up together in a school of performing arts as stage brothers to become the best actors of their times in Beijing Opera.Their fame spreads as they enact the parts of the king of Chu and his concubine, Yu in an opera called "farewell , my concubine." Specifically, the portrayal of concubine Yu by Douzi (Leslie Cheung)earns him accolades from every critic and the general public. One day, Shitou (Fengyi Zhang)marries a beautiful prostitute Juxian (Gong Li) much to the chagrin of his stage brother and this begins a turmoil in their lives.But soon with ongoing political turmoil, their lives change and a brilliant script sees three lives inexorably entwined with each other into a gripping tale of care, trust, love and yes, jealousy. First the invasion of China by the Japanese and then the advent of communism threatens the existence and survival of the Beijing Opera and every last ounce of honor and pride it instilled in people. The screenplay is unbelievable for such a complicated story woven into the very essence of Chinese history and public life.

What makes this film so spectacular is the performance given by Leslie Cheung as Douzi and concubine Yu. Changing times notwithstanding, the pathos of Douzi's life literally screams out from the screen to anyone who is watching the film. From the day his own mother chopped off his sixth finger to get him admitted to the school to the day he slashed his own throat, Douzi's life is an unending nightmare of betrayal and rejection. His own sexuality is challenged as a young boy when he is made to dress, walk look and talk like a female, to prepare him for his role as concubine Yu. He grows up to be gracefully effeminate, sensitive yet jealous and the multiple layers of his personality couldn't have been better performed than what Leslie Cheung has done to this character. Douzi' s love for Shitou is unyielding and possessive to the point of being violently jealous of his wife, Juxian. Throughout his life he takes risks for Shitou, who plays the part of the mighty king of Chu to perfection on stage, but balks to protect Douzi's and his wife's honor at any pressured situation.
The film brings out the twisted irony of fate, that for a effeminate and jealous person, ridiculed and abused on numerous occasions off stage, Douzi still manages to protect his friend, through out his life, sticking to his stage brother, even after the stoic Juxian commits suicide after Shitou betrays her honor. Cheung's performance is flawless. He has modified his body language, his pose, even the way he holds himself as befits a regal woman. His doubts, his inner qualms and turmoils have been brought out in a a dramatic, yet heart wrenchingly innocent manner.

As I said before, this film tells the story of an era and a beautiful story of three people within that era. But the human aspect surpasses the historical aspect of the film. The pathos of the characters reach out to the lives of people, touch them, make them weep. It is the people that make up a time, and portrayal of their follies and triumphs, vices and virtues, joys and sorrows all woven into the fabric of culture and politics has made this film one of the very best that I have ever watched.

Of irks and jerks

Recently there has been this massive hue and cry about the impropriety of the film "Slumdog Millionaire". Reportedly, why do "we" need a "British" director to point a finger at what stares blatantly at everyone's face? Why is such a negative image of India being projected to the rest of the world? Couldn't the movie show our India shining? Why does the protagonist have to be a muslim? So on and so forth. Scan your regional dailies and for sure, you would see a wholehearted bashing of this flick, by anyone who proclaims to be a film critic, including some imbecile and incipient actors.

what most of them don't gauge or fail to do so is that, this film is primarily about SLUM kids. While our well groomed friends pooh-pooh the miseries of the children with idyllic waves of their well manicured fingers, these kids do have inhuman treatments meted out to them. Yes, orphans are blinded in this country to make beggars out of them. Yes, child prostitution and abuse is rampant here, and in most cases, they go unnoticed. Probably because of that, elite echelons of the society have developed an indifference to those.. or else, they are too busy to build the facade of shining glam and glitz beyond which the real face of our country lies. If one dares to tarnish that facade, out comes the claws and fangs.

The fact that this films shows miraculously tight editing and a nearly flawless screenplay goes unnoticed, or admitted grudgingly. A.R.Rahman has done a brilliant job with the score indeed.. however, one reviewer in a Bengali daily said that without the score, the film would have been flat and dull.. a polite question to you sir- what do you think the purpose of a score is? Appreciation of good work notwithstanding, passing accolades for a job that serves its purpose well seems a bit of overkill to me.

Like every other film, this one also has its shortcomings. For one, Freida Pinto and Madhur Mittal are both gigantic disappointments. Pinto is nothing but a glam showpiece in a role which deserved better handling. Mittal on the other hand, fails to convince the audience of his duality.. his performance lacks the intensity of a man who can mutilate a girl in one scene and ask forgiveness from her in the next. His voice is also extremely high pitched to the point of being effeminate for a goon who is as tough as rhino hide. For another, the huge phillum style song and dance sequence at the end of the film is a huge overkill. The ending could have been way better. But then, Loveleen Tandon has to do it in style. (Remember Monsoon Wedding?) And in this hysteria about Dev Patel (who, by the way IS quite good in the film) the child artists are being sidelined, while their performance makes this film what it is. Anil Kapoor's performance deserves special mention- he is impeccable in his role, playing big B with his mannerisms intact.

But at the end, if one could just revise what a film is all about. Admittedly, the form of this film has captured my attention, more than it's contents. There could be a magnum debate about which is more important in a film. However, nothing can undermine the brilliance of this script and tying the ends together by shotgun editing. kudos to Boyle for handling a complicated multilayered script with such elan. He happens to be British, which probably is his biggest crime towards Indian media. Unfortunately lauding this film becomes a "colonial hangover". In the end, I have just one question myself- why do some people have such difficulties in admitting truths? But then, people have said Ray sold poverty of India in his films, without an inkling about the impact of Ray's work. :)

Mission accomplished

Finally! I have a film blog. hopefully, this will break a year long silence..