We’re all closet voyeurs and eavesdroppers. I take the liberty of generalising after seeing families throng the theatres showing ‘Kapoor and Sons’ or any other saga showcasing the upheavals in households. I mean why would we pay to peek into strangers homes? It’s probably therapeutic. We laugh at situations in others lives that we’d despair in our own. It’s reassuring to know that other families too are not as perfect as the portrait of smiling faces adorning living rooms. The seeds strewn from the same tree don’t always blossom into flowers or fruits with similar fragrance or flavour. You cannot refer to books or the so called wisdom spewed by idle philosophers when dealing with crucial situations. We live and keep learning.
The first five minutes into a movie are crucial for any avid filmgoer. It establishes whether the director has a flair for the medium and is self-assured. You know the exorbitant ticket money has not gone waste when the occurrences on-screen are more alluring than the exit sign. Sharp sequences establish the key players. The opening scene has the patriarch slumping on the dining table and nobody reacting. “He’s practising a dramatic death,” says the daughter-in-law in mild amusement. You smile and just hope the director can sustain in similar vein. Grandpa does fall seriously sick and the two grandsons are informed. They unquestioningly take the first flight out from different countries. The family lives in a quaint old bungalow in serene Coonoor. The weather in the household is not as salubrious. Individual character traits are established with swiftness and subtlety. The underachiever imagining a slight dichotomy in affections is relatable and common. There are mild money problems and the wife having a hunch about an extra-marital affair. An emotional unease pervades the house. The binding force is the old man who’s seen it all and rehearses a painless death. He’s aware of everything but feigns ignorance choosing to camouflage it with mindless banter. He smokes pot with his grandsons and marvels at the ease with which porn can be sourced on an ‘I-Papad’ while whining about the struggle to sneak into a theatre showing ‘Ram Teri Ganga Maili’. Then there’s Alia Bhat, an unfettered soul trying hard to hide her loneliness. “You at least have a family” she tells her boyfriend when he complains about the emotional unease in his household. She’s today’s girl, strong and impulsive. She’s attired in clothes, rather than costumes and wears her heart on her sleeve. She’ll call a stranger ‘hot’ and confess to her boyfriend that she kissed him.
Strong, well etched characters alone cannot sustain a film. Shakun Batra sews them seamlessly into a sensitive screenplay and converts them convincingly into celluloid. It’s not just in the writing that he scores. Shooting a scene involving a middle-class family can be claustrophobic be it in the living or dining room. The easiest way is for a static camera to capture the drama. The camera on a trolley will make it look choreographed. You marvel at the way Shakun has captured and cut the most dramatic of sequences. The energy and restlessness of the camera matches that of the characters. Just watch the scene where crucial family matters are being discussed loudly in the presence of a hapless plumber. The scene depicts a director with remarkable self assurance and it’s not a stray one. Even an impromptu song at a party is shot with the right energy. Shakun’s narration is unwavering. Just because it’s shot in Coonoor, the camera doesn’t caress the verdant hills unnecessarily.
The casting for a film is crucial and painful. You wonder how it’s decided especially when it’s about suitability rather than marketability. Karan Johar, the producer was surely convinced that Shakun’s story was the star. Thankfully, there’re more actors than marquee names. Right from the charming Rishi down to Rajat Kapoor, the performances are impeccable. Everyone seems to instinctively react to given situations. Shakun’s camera probes each one of them and none fails. While Ratna Pathak Shah excels, Fawad and Siddarth exhibit their uneasy equation convincingly. Watch Alia, in close-up recalling and reacting to an eternal regret in her life.
If I have to nitpick, well I didn’t know everyone in Coonoor speaks in Hindi but then like Mani Ratnam will remind you it’s all about communication and not logic. Air India is the film’s airline partner so Fawad has to mention he’s taking their flight. I must say I prefer Karan Johar the producer. It’s all about loving the family but we probably relate more to homes than ‘havelis’. You could blame it on middle-class mentality where you wonder how the rich can have problems. The triumph of a director lies in simulating emotions convincingly enough for us to react accordingly. Take a bow Shakun. I hope he doesn’t take four years to write and make his next film.
sshivu@yahoo.com
