The climax of Nagraj Manjule’s critically acclaimed debut film Fandry (2015) unfolds against the backdrop of a village school wall lined with photographs of Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar, Jyotiba Phule and other stalwarts in the fight against untouchability. In the foreground, a Dalit family is trying to trap a pig under instructions from their upper caste lords. Suddenly, the National Anthem starts playing and the family momentarily abandons the chase to stand in attention, obeying a convention that means nothing to their wretched lives. The scene is a scathing indictment of our democracy, its foundation built on the centuries-old caste system, leaving power and privilege firmly entrenched, once with zamindars, now with politicians.
Manjule’s second film Sairat — which means ‘wild’ — is dubbed ‘an epic love story’, not in the sense of the opulence and melodrama of Hindi cinema, but rather the clash of dreams and desire with harsh reality.
In a way, it’s a continuation of the adolescent’s tale from Fandry . The boy who yearned for the village headman’s daughter is now a poor fisherman’s son. He’s a shy, pleasant-looking Parshya (Akash Thosar), dubbed ‘the Dhoni of Bitter village’ as he leads his team to victory in the local premier league (sponsored by a country liquor baron, no less). He’s in love with a powerful zamindar/politician’s daughter, Archie (Rinku Rajguru).
Blurred caste and class boundaries at democratic educational institutions means there’s now an opportunity for boys and girls like Parshya and Archie to interact freely on neutral ground. Yet the murky shadow of social hierarchies is never far behind.
When a new teacher at the college pulls up Archie’s brother Prince for speaking on his phone while the class is in progress, just like that, the boy slaps the man. Worse, his father chastises the principal for not instructing the new entrant about the local who’s who. What chance does the young couple’s blossoming love stand in such a scenario?
The filmmaker handles their courtship with affection, allowing it to unfold languorously against picturesque landscapes: lush sugarcane fields, carefree birds flitting across the skies and breathtaking sunsets. Much of this portion is shot in slow motion and peppered with humour, song and dance, a youthful charge to Ajay-Atul’s uplifting score and especially, the immensely catchy ‘ Yad lagla ’. Theirs is a carefree world and all there’s to do is worry about how to pass on clandestine letters or who will say ‘I love you’ first. The girl does. She’s as free-spirited a protagonist as you can find anywhere on the Indian screen. And Rajguru’s feisty performance is a revelation. Archie’s confidence is clearly born of privilege; the doting father has even named their family home after her, although the irony isn’t lost as the plot progresses. Not only can she ride a Bullet, but she can also shoot one. She can fight with the police to ensure her boyfriend’s release, and even adapt to a whole new way of life without complaining. She’s the ‘hero’ in every sense. If only she weren’t a woman.
The peripheral characters too are carefully drawn. Not just the two families, but Parshya’s loyal friends — Pradeep, the bow-legged one, and Salim, the garage mechanic — stick it out with the duo for a stretch till reality strikes, as it inevitably must, and Parshya and Archie find themselves on the run. This isn’t the simplistic ‘ humne ghar chhoda hai ’ type of escapism.
The second half, credible and depressing, provides a sombre foil to their foolish optimism. Love can perhaps conquer hardships, but is there enough love in the world to overcome deep-rooted prejudices and the full force of patriarchy?
Manjule’s worldview is resolutely humanistic. Passion when channelled through tenderness can be life-affirming.
But there’s an uglier, sinister face to passion too, and in our times, it appears to be winning the day.
Sairat isn’t an easy watch; certainly not the last hour. But it’s a brilliantly crafted film that demonstrates not just the writer-director’s control over the medium but his acute awareness of and anger towards a system that strangles hope with ruthless cynicism. At 170 minutes, it’s much longer than the average film these days. You could walk away from it feeling dejected or you could shut your eyes and recall Parshya breaking into an impromptu dance to the clanging tune of a passing train and picture the duo proclaiming undying love by the river; the sinking sun their sole witness.
Now that’s a world worth saving.
The writer is a freelance journalist
Sairat
Director: Nagraj Manjule
Cast: Akash Thosar, Rinku Rajguru
Runtime: 170 mins
