satyanshu_singh

This is a true story.

In the year 2001, a seventeen-year old boy discovered cinema. He started understanding the difference between the crap that had dominated the popular cinema of his consciousness, the cream of the crap that had resulted in some blockbusters, and the rare cinema rooted in aesthetics of the craft. One important lesson was to understand how 'sound' matters in a movie, among many other big and small mantras he picked up from that textbook of a movie. The final and the most essential lesson was how passion, in fact lunacy, was essential for making a truly immortal film.

The movie that taught the young boy this, went on to win the hearts of people all over the globe. Today, it is considered as one of the landmark films of Hindi cinema. This boy, struck by the achievement and short-sighted by faith, had exclaimed among his movie-crazy friends: "In the next ten years, we are going to have at least five Academy nominations, and two wins!" More than nine years have passed. The boy is now 26. He is waiting no more. He has lost all hope. He has lost his faith.

'Satya' was the film that planted in me the seeds of film-making passion. But I started learning the art with 'Lagaan'. The first foreign-language films I watched were 'No Man's Land' and 'Amelie', because they were in competition with 'Lagaan', and thus I discovered world cinema. I used to follow every word that Gowariker said those days, and thus, following his inspiration, I discovered Guru Dutt, V. Shantaram, and Bimal Roy. The film was followed by a documentary on its making, titled 'Chale Chalo: The Lunacy of Film Making'. I went to watch that in a theatre, covering a long distance by bus, alone.

'Lagaan' had the tagline: Once Upon a Time in India. I never knew it meant something like this can only happen once! To be fair to Ashutosh Gowariker, I do not expect him to re-create something as wonderful as 'Lagaan', or even 'Swades' for that matter. I accepted the flaws of 'Jodha Akbar' and the flaw called 'What's Your Rashi?' with a smile, understanding, as he says, why he made these movies. But this time, I am left disappointed, and angry. You taught me Sir, the importance of correct sound in cinema. Why then, is the sound (including the background score) of this latest film of yours so terribly done? Why have your characters lost themselves to stars, or incompetence of the cast, or your complacence? I remember you had promised this film would be shorter. By your standards, 2 hours 45 minutes is short. But when are you going to realize that each film should be completed within the time that best suits its purpose? I refuse to believe that your passion and your 'lunacy of film-making' remains the same. And that, Sir, is a crime, especially for you than anyone else.

This is a true story. Ashutosh Gowariker is no more among my favourite film-makers. Unfortunately, he has managed to instill an insecurity and fear in me. I am no more worried about my success in this industry. I am afraid of being destroyed post that success, by my own complacency and errors of judgment, and by the loss of the purity and passion I earned through cinema.

Aniruddha Guha (DNA) writes in his review of 'Peepli Live' that it 'leaves you impressed but unaffected'. I read the fairly positive review, trying to find out whether Guha tries to diagnose the reason behind this impression he gets from the film. Perhaps he does. I'll try to elaborate.

The premise of the film is extremely powerful, as it plays around, in a stark black comedy, the expected death of a poor farmer, Natha. But in spite of brilliant performances, sharp and intelligent lines, and a different, 'real', and believable setting, there seems to be something missing. And that 'something', in my opinion is the mantra all screen writing gurus insist on. I would name it: 'Progression and Pace'.

After establishing the primary conflict of the film, the writer is supposed to take us on a journey. Not to a circus where we sit and wait for performers to exhibit their vibrant colours but to an active, involving journey of human emotions. Irwin Blacker brilliantly puts it as: "Plot is more than a pattern of events: it is the ordering of emotions." To invoke the desired emotional response, the writer has to establish a serious 'want' for the protagonist – what exactly is at stake; the higher the stake, better the chance for drama. But to actually achieve drama, the writer needs to elaborate and enhance the conflict. Create obstacles in the path of the protagonist who is striving to achieve his dramatic need. These obstacles, preferably as harsh as they could be, and the protagonist's efforts to overcome them is what makes drama affecting. His success or failure in doing so is hardly important. And this entire act of confrontation has to crafted with intelligence and an acute critical eye, making sure that each scene takes the story forwards – it progresses from one plot point to the other with a definitive sense of purpose, remembering that each tree is important without losing the idea of the forest.

'Peepli Live' has the 'want' perfectly in place. But it lacks a purposeful progression of story through well-defined obstacles and attempts by the characters to overcome them. Also, the presence, and active involvement of such a large number of secondary characters causes the plot to meander, not meaninglessly, but diluting the force of the impact. There are sequences which do work. But notice carefully – all those instances are strong plot points, high on conflict-want confrontational drama. Of course, this is a very orthodox approach of writing films. And if you are a genius, you can actually make a beautiful and affecting 'circus-like' film on a thin plot if you manage to create memorable characters and sequences, as Fellini did in most of his movies. But for all of us who are not Federico Fellini, and I think most are not, the conventional rule of 'progression with a sense of purpose' is the rule to follow.

This brings me to the 'pace' of the film. Contrary to the common notion, a film need not be 'pacy' to make an impact. It is attaining just the perfect pace suiting the mood of the film that matters. 'Peepli Live' has apparently too many things happening without actual progression of the story during the most of its hundred minutes. The story is stagnant, but the 'events' are happening hurriedly. So, we do not get time to think and feel the drama that is already minimal. Hence, we feel unaffected. The most affecting portion of this satirical film created in overtones is the final sequence, the denouement or the post-climax. Over the faces of Budhiya and Natha's wife, lost over their bleak fate and ignorance about Natha's reality, the camera makes an obvious meandering motion backwards. Kieslowski would use such camera movements to suggest some supernatural 'eye' looking at our characters. I could not help but feel the same as the camera pulls back and after a long journey through villages and towns reaches a modern city. Without a word more of dialogue or staged action, it presents before us the faces of numerous labourers working at a construction site – all migrants from rural India – trying to survive in the inhuman loneliness of the polluted cities? One of them is Natha, and we have just witnessed his story. But wouldn't there be similar, if not equally heart-wrenching, stories behind all of these helpless faces? There is so much conveyed during this entire closing sequence. And although the closing title reduces it to a 'fact' about farmers in India who have left agriculture and spoils the understated brilliance of it for me, it still succeeds fairly. Notice that this entire sequence has only one strong dramatic reveal; otherwise it is just the stagnancy of its progression, or the 'slow' pace that generates such a strong emotional response in us.

'Peepli Live' would work better in its repeat viewings, when you already know the story, its nature and limitations. It's then that the wonderful detailing and the 'moments' in its narration will make you smile. Its business story and importance, or the lack of it, in Hindi cinema history will always be worth discussing. But to understand the triumph of cinema, we need to keep these aside. The intent of a movie and the courage behind its making must be applauded if it deserves that. And after having done that justly, to really understand the cinematic achievement of it, the craft of the film should be analyzed. Perfection is not the prerequisite for great art, it is the stimulation that it provides to the audience is what matters. 'Peepli Live' does that, by not only making you think about the social issue it addresses but also, if you are interested, by inspiring you to diagnose the merits and demerits of its craft as a work of cinema. That, I believe, is enough of an accomplishment.

How many times does it happen that during the 8.30 am 'first-day-first-show', you also have one of the lead actors watching the film? It happened today. The actor was Raj Kumar Yadav, who plays the lead in the second story of the film, with his bunch of friends, to cheer at the CBFC certificate and clap at the rolling credits. The film was LSD – which is going to be remembered as one of the gutsiest film ever made in this country. And if you ask me, it is one of the better made ones too.

Everyone is talking about the use of digital cameras in the film, that shake, that go out of focus, that even get stained by blood and water. They are talking about how 'different' it is in its theme, style and use of unknown actors. But it is not the elements that make this film different and significantly better than most of others, it is how the director uses them - an evidence of how cinema can be created by a basic understanding of the medium, of picture and sound, and storytelling, and how a style can be carved out of the technology you use. And this technology, as Godard et al taught us, need not be expensive or state-of-art.

There are scenes in the film pictured in long single shots – as there is just one evident hidden camera. Unlike other films, here you do not have multiple camera setups, so you can not cut between shots – unless you want to use the obviously jerky jump-cut (which in my opinion often breaks the dramatic build-up of the scene). So, you obviously can not 'cut time' and hence the scene occurs in real time, giving you not only dialogue but also the pauses between them – those significant, dramatic moments between the conversations. And to add to that, there is no background music here, only ambient sound. By something as basic as this, the director has managed to create unforgettable cinematic moments and deeply affecting scenes. This is just one of styles adopted by LSD – that makes it truly different, as far as Hindi films are concerned.

You will find so many similar small but brilliant international films in festivals. This time, thanks to the producers, we have one such gem from India, released commercially. I pray for its success – it will help not only independent and digital cinema, but Hindi cinema in general. After Khosla ka Ghosla and Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!, with LSD, Dibakar Banerjee establishes himself as one of those few men in our industry, who know cinema, and who have an expression of their own. And I must congratulate and thank him for proving once again, that to make a good film you hardly need budget and stars. You just need to have a story you are dying to tell, and the cinematic vision, the heart, and a little guts, to do that.