Kaasav ( Turtle ) doesn’t tell a story. There are no dramatic twists and turns, nor a climactic high. The film just takes the viewers into the mind of a distressed soul, plants them in the middle of it, , and shows them how the world around him responds. There is no attempt at a neat resolution either, and things are wrapped up without a clear closure.
In their new national award-winning Marathi film, filmmakers Sumitra Bhave and Sunil Sukthankar present depression as a medical condition that needs to be overcome by continuous engagement, monitoring and management; as much as blood pressure or diabetes.
The film doesn’t dwell on the reasons leading up to the state. They are implicit—failed marriage, lost relationships, unhappy families, inability to connect, loneliness, frustration, lack of self-worth, the yawning gap between desire and fulfilment, ambition and achievement.
Instead, the movie is about the interplay between a middle-aged woman, Janaki (Iravati Harshe), who is coming out of an acute phase of depression, still on the mend and prone to anxiety attacks, and a young man, Manav (Alok Rajwade), who she literally picks off the road on a drive to Goa. Manav is living with his own demons that are turning him suicidal.
Then, there is the world around them. Janaki’s Man Friday, Yadu (Kishor Kadam), impatient, reluctant and misinformed, yet caring; the sage and wise conservationist and silent supporter Dattabhau (Dr. Mohan Agashe); and the innocent street child Parshu (Omkar Ghadi). They give Manav the space to heal and reconnect with the world he had renounced.
Smuggling in social issues
Taking up social issues independently and artistically comes naturally to Bhave, a social researcher trained at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS) in Mumbai, and Sukthankar, a graduate from the Film and Television Institute of India who discovered his social conscience through filmmaking. .
Bhave was 40 and Sukthankar 17 when they first collaborated on a short film, Bai, in 1985. It took off from Bhave’s social research project on the self-image of dalit women in a Pune slum. The association continues more than three decades later. They have 14 films behind them, 50 shorts and five TV serials and telefilms, and several international, national and state awards.
Sukthankar handles the actors, camera and sound; Bhave does the art, costumes and editing. She writes the script, he pens the lyrics. They may have differences but work harmoniously. “Her word is the last because she writes, it’s a vision from her mind,” says Sukthankar.
The duo has done pioneering work in several ways. They were one of the first to make a film on HIV/ AIDS called Zindagi Zindabad . They addressed the stigma around leucoderma in Nital, and looked atschizophrenia in Devrai . Now actor-psychiatrist Agashe has joined hands with them in making community and health-oriented films. Besides Kaasav , he also co-produced their last film Astu ( So Be It ) on Alzheimer’s.
A firm believer in imparting non-formal education through cinema, in ‘spreading information through images and sound,’ Agashe is all for ‘smuggling’ in social issues in the garb of entertainment through meaningful movies.
He calls them ‘nutritional films’ as opposed to mainstream ones that facilitate ‘emotional purgation’.
Bhave’s TISS background helps her apply social research analytics to script-writing as well. Any subject they pick up is thoroughly studied and understood before a film emerges out of it. But Bhave also brings to it her innate understanding of life. So while Agashe may provide her the clinical material on depression, Kaasav doesn’t feel like an information booklet. The idea quite obviously is to build awareness about the disease, but without letting the film slip into sermonising.
The approach is sensitive, not sentimental. The tone is forever gentle, humane, empathetic and humble. “Even when they look at dark areas, they set things up in a way that doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” says Harshe.
However, for Sukthankar, the singularly significant aspect of Bhave’s writing is how she bolsters the seeming simplicity of the story with philosophical and spiritual layers. So the metaphor of the turtle looms large in Kaasav .
The sea turtle conservation project shown in the film doesn’t just give meaning to Janaki’s life but can be read in several other ways. The steadfastness associated with the creature could be seen as one of the ways to deal with the pressures of life—to remain resolute rather than get swayed by emotions. The turtle’s shell could be symbolic of the refuge Manav and Janaki seek to escape into. It’s the nest of seclusion, withdrawal and invisibility.
The man with no memory
Such profound metaphors featured in Astu as well. Dr. Chakrapani Shastri (Mohan Agashe), a reputed Sanskrit scholar and an Alzheimer’s patient, gets lost while chasing an elephant he is fascinated with. Quite pertinent that a man with no memory — he even has a Post-it stuck on his own image to remind him: “This is me, Appa” and can’t remember if he had a meal a few minutes ago—should be chasing a creature known for its amazing memory. The only way for Appa is to live in the moment. But isn’t that a Zen state to be in, one that a lot of us aspire for?
Though Astu is about loss of memory, it is structured around recollections. It is all about going back and forth in time to bring a man alive, one who is a pale shadow of his old self. It is also about unravelling the relationship fabric—the sibling rivalry over their parents’ affection, unspoken secrets and unresolved guilt. Kaasav takes a step forward in redefining the family. Perhaps it’s not the family we get by birth but the one we build through our friends and acquaintances that matters more—‘bonds of mind’ over ‘bonds of blood.’
What is also striking is how the figure of the therapist is almost absent from the frames. He is a presence on the other side of the phone. For the filmmakers, it’s not about belittling medical intervention. Instead, inspired by Dr. Vikram Patel’s book, Where There Is No Psychiatrist, it is about laying the onus of mental wellness on individuals, the caregivers and society. It’s not about hand-holding but empowering.
The metaphor of the turtle could apply to the Bhave-Sukthankar school of slow and steady filmmaking as well. They have been quietly and tirelessly making films for over three decades on minuscule budgets, but with discipline and dedication. They came in when state funding of films was declining and much of their support came from the social sector.
But they have often not been able to find space in the conventional distribution and exhibition platforms. So it’s a parallel system they’ve been operating on—street screenings, community viewings.
Agashe has taken it a step forward, conducting post-screening discussions on mental health with the audience. No wonder they are not perturbed about the film’s release. Their rule is simple: if people can’t come to the film, take the film to the people.
