Terre

EARTH will seem familiar to anyone who has ever seen a historical epic. Its tale of political and national disjunction and horror is filtered through a precariously neutral upper-middle class family, in particular through the eyes of a young child, a scenario not dissimilar to, say, EMPIRE OF THE SUN. Further, this child, beautiful but lame, is somehow a figure for India itself, its scar of partition masked by her disability, or an embodiment of this soon-to-be-lost, dangerously naive innocence, scenes of great personal intimacy contrast with scenes of mass violence, until the two collide in the gut-wrenching climax. As with any historical epics, the film's sweeping smoothness conceals formal ruptures, as the film moves registers from the 'naturalistic' or narratively, psychologically plausible to Expressionism, to blatant allegory. This internal conflict may mirror the struggle over boundaries the film narrates.

If the film is conventional is outline, it is also intelligent, beautiful and economical in a way most stodgy historical epics are not. Its predominantly Western structure is filtered through with a restrained Bollywood sensuality, and, in the first half especially, after one has gotten used to the rather stilted dialogue and stylised situations, one is astounded by the caressing fluidity of the camerawork; the uncommon beauty of compositions, especially indoors, where the essentially muted 'earth' colours of the decor are pierced by unearthly shards of light; the profusion of dazzling colours, in costumes, and especially in the horrific marriage sequence, undermining the strained sobriety of most historical epics; the unforced breaks into song and dance, the accumulation of vignettes, some comic, some full of joy and promise, some bursting with foreboding, that give a sense of life being lived, a life already fragile in status, waiting to be destroyed; the unabashed use of melodrama, its critical framing device (in one horrible scene, the protagonists watch helplessly from a balcony the strangely beautiful conflict, passive like us the audience), and its emotional demands on the audience I realise that much of my pleasure comes from a racist 'Orientalism', a projection of my desires of exoticism and Otherness on the East, but my own country has a traumatic history of British Imperialism and partitions, so I don't feel too guilty.

The first half is as good as anything in cinema this year, once one has got used to the shifts in register. It is full of the autumnal sadness of a Chekhov play, or Ray's CHARULATA, or LE REGLE DU JEU, where we observe people living life, being friends, making love playing games, while we know history is sadistically poised on the brink, waiting to crush everything. Mehta never falls into nostalgia for this doomed idyll - she records the legacy of the British Empire; the horrors of the caste system; the emotional repression, the arranged marriages between senile paedophiles and pre-pubescent girls. But this section is also full of epiphany, the thrill of the sexual chase, friendship, poetry and, above all, comedy, all the things about to be distorted and destroyed by history as it performs a body snatching operation onto people we have come to love and turns them into vicious murderers.

The second half is an unrelenting catalogue of jolting spasms of violence. Day gives way to night, earthy browns and sun to blackness, friendship and love to death and hate. The film is also a bildungsroman, the tale of the development of a young girl as she learns about life, love, family, gender, language, society, history, culture, politics a development cruelly cut short, distorted, vandalised - when we see the charming dew-eyed narrator half a century later, emotionally in ruins as she stands self-effacingly in the ruins of Imperial pomp (an amazing shot, the film's sparing use of ruined architecture gives the film on occasion a ghostly feel), we sense irreperable loss.

Go see this film. It is wonderful. But it is not for everyone.

Most of the comments here on IMDb are positive and I agree with these reviews. However, for me the cynicism of the critics was unfounded because I was not expecting the usual Hollywood movie. If you cannot relate to this film in a positive way then I suppose that you have not traveled much and have not lived in other cultures, at least not in Asia. This is not an American film made for an American audience.

This is very much an adult film for a sensitive and mature audience. It is certainly not for those seeking the usual thrills and spills and formula love stories. We are given a look at a very important and prominent country being split up by a colonial power, and how this political decision affects millions of people in some of the most awful manners. A million lost their lives! The tension between India and Pakistan still haunts us all ! So don't expect a nice and sweet film, although there were some beautiful scenes of childhood innocence and the romance of young lovers.

The symbolism is rich. At the start we see a dinner table with the main groups of people represented in the formation of Pakistan: English, Sikh, Muslim, Hindu, Parsee. Throughout the film Lenny Baby represents the innocence and naivety which so many people remain in during geopolitical processes. When it is this young girl's birthday, she can find no one who cares. Her birthday is the same day of the Pakistan-India split, and the symbolism is obvious. She then finds a Muslim refugee boy whose mother was brutally killed by Hindus. He asks her if she is a Hindu and when she replies "no" she also asks if he wants some cake. "Cake? What is cake?" Lenny-the-Naive is baffled, and again the symbolism is obvious. So many of us cannot really relate to the plight of refugees. What happens to this innocent and naive position at the end? We are stunned to see the results. Naivety leads Beauty and Love to a terrible fate. Innocence is tragically deceived. It wasn't until my second viewing of this film that I saw the many symbolic references. Watch the film with this perspective and you will see through the cynicism such as writer "Pass the pappadom" makes elsewhere on this page.

One symbolic reference that I am not sure if I understand was that of the Sikh man and his family, hiding from the Muslim killer mob. He was such a sincere and gentle man, and even his dagger raised in defense did not detract from his positive qualities. Was he portrayed in this way because the Sikhs had too much 'bad press' about their warrior ways? Were the Sikhs ineffective in protecting themselves during the division?

A friend of mine told me that he cried all the way home after seeing this film. He is 46 years old and not a weak and overly sensitive person. My wife and I were quite emotionally moved by this film, and we cannot relate to the film critics that say otherwise. By the way, my wife lived in India for a year and she loved seeing the various scenes of everyday Indian life, so you may enjoy the film just for the sake of seeing people living life outside of Hollywood America.

One last symbolic reference to ponder was the touching romantic scene between the two lovers amidst the ancient ruins. Here we see a Muslim man saying that he would convert to Hinduism so that the marriage would be possible. All they needed to do is to leave to live in the newly divided India. The ancient ruins indicate the past, but unfortunately the lovers return to the present.

This is a film that I will remember for a long time. I highly recommend that you see it, if you don't mind a serious film about major issues, seen from a non-American perspective.

Director - writer Deepa Mehta deserves much credit for depicting the complexities of one of the world's worst tragedies with diplomatic balance, not placing blame on any one group but yet revealing the errors and brutality that each group made.

This question resonated in my mind as the credits rolled. The release of this movie came at a high point in India's history - 50 years after independence from the British.

As an Indian-born American this film had an intense emotional impact on me, as it did with my best friends sitting to my right and left - a Muslim and a Sikh. It seems melodramatic but we sat in our seats, tears in our eyes, stunned.

One of the things I look forward to after every movie going experience is the inevitable discussion that follows. All three of us were silent for almost half an hour. It dawned on us that we could have been the group of friends who were so close at the beginning only to be divided by our demons in the name of religion at the end.

As an aspiring film-maker, I would like to congratulate Deepa Mehta for her courage and determination in presenting such amazing human stories. In an industry where Bollywood sachharine seems to prevail, it is reassuring to see a true artistic voice strike a lyrical chord with the world.

She makes me proud to be Indian first and foremost.

Deepa Mehta lets us in the opening scene the theme of her film as a small girl smashes a plate on the floor and asks her puzzled mother, "Can you break a country?" The film shows exactly how that happens. The first half of the film depicts an idyllic society. The scenes in the park are reminiscent of Eden, as the nurse Shanta holds court amongst her Hindu, Muslim and Sikh suitors. The kite-flying scene is probably the lightest-hearted in the picture. But gradually the cracks start to appear, driving apart friends and lovers. The hatred which spreads as partition of the country approaches is shown to be a madness coming from deep within the human heart, which twists and deforms relationships. The worst betrayal in this film results from an irreconcilable confusion of loyalties in a trusting heart. This film presents a disturbing but authentic picture of human nature.

The score by A.R. Rahman is a powerful blend of Indian and western film music, lightening the joyous moments (such as the kite-flying scene) and deepening the foreboding in other scenes (such as the train of death).

Deepa Mehta has such a commanding presence in her films that she is able to leave her audience both educated and devastated by her stories and by the ingenious ways in which she tells them. EARTH is a magnificent example of her gifts and while it may not be as visually luxurious or as touching as her subsequent WATER, it is a fine film that not only depicts a troubled time in India's history, but also informs us of the intricacies of how people relate to each other - first as humans, second as religious sects.

The film has at its heart the year 1947 when India was given its independence from Great Britain and at the same time bifurcated into two countries - India and Pakistan. The story opens with a tranquil park picnic in Lahore where friends - Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Parsee - while away the afternoon in camaraderie. Only slight overtones of edgy topics about religion mar the conversation until the topic focuses on the incipient split of the country into two countries. Each of the friends represents each of the religious sects and it is how these differences, at once unimportant to friendship, end up in separating the friends under the influence of the devastation of bloodshed that follows the division of the country and the displacement of millions of people, all under the guise of independence.

There is a strong love story, a committed crippled child who experiences all of the happiness and subsequent tragedy that is to follow and the story ends with some words of wisdom by the grown little girl reflecting on choices made, and other sidebars that maintain interest at every frame.

The acting is first rate from a beautiful cast and Mehta's direction makes this tale of change whir by the viewer. For those not educated in the differences of the four religious sects of Hindu, Parsee, Muslim, and Sikh the tale can become confusing: would that Mehta would have included a discussion about the film in an added feature the way she helped us understand the plight of widows in WATER. And the subtitles unfortunately do not translate the English spoken portions of the film, portions that while very important to the story are nearly indecipherable due to the accents of the characters speaking.

But these are minor quibbles in a film that pleads for repeated viewings, so beautiful is the movie and so very important is the message. Highly Recommended.