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Friday 28 February 2014

BLUE IS THE WARMEST COLOUR: To Love.

La Vie d’Adèle - Chapitres 1 & 2

Dir: Abdellatif Kechiche
Starring: Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopoulos



Adapted from a graphic novel of the same name by Julie Maroh, director Abdellatif Kechiche's Palme d'Or winning drama is about a girl's coming of age into her sexuality and experiencing love. The internet and social media alike has been flooded with discussions about primarily the lesbian love-making scenes between the two female protagonists, Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopoulos. Also, I find it rather amusing, that comments on the film's viability and 'watchability' has been accounted vis-a-vis the Academy Awards, which I find rather amateurish. The decision to award it the highest honour at Cannes, by a jury headed by a 'leading' American filmmaker has been termed 'bold' but again, the assertion foregrounds the film's depiction of nudity as its cinematic marker, which I find again rather awkward. This film must be viewed  beyond that.

It must be said, that the fact which made me get interested in the film, is the Palme d'Or honour. Cinephiles, like myself watching foreign films, sometimes, without getting much into it, use awards as a marker to choose, and this was no different. I won't get much into the plot of the film, but just that the 179 minutes film is about the girl Adèle, who finds love in another woman, with a blue haired artist, Emma (Léa Seydoux). They share their love, passion and life together, and eventually lose it, and live it.

Blue is the Warmest Colour, at heart, is a relationship drama, and through it explorations of the time and moment has been conducted. Backed by stellar performances from the two leading ladies, so much so, that the Cannes jury opined they share the award with the filmmaker himself. As a cinema enthusiast, Adèle's depiction of Adèle is brutally honest. At the tender age of 19, she approaches the character with tremendous intensity and emotional honesty as does Léa Seydoux in her portrayal of Emma. Though cinema is a collaborative art, where the auteur fashions the narrative, it however needs characters to give it the requisite shape, the body, the heart and the guts. As an Indian, with the world's largest film industry in the country, in the 21st Century, it is recommended to be part of a world cinema audience, yet a petty comparative attitude cannot be ignored, and one cannot but marvel at the acting prowess of these two female leads, on whom the entire weight of the narrative lay.

Intriguing has been the social documentary in the film. Exploring lesbianism, a viable question can and would be raised, is how apt is Abdellatif Kechiche, a heterosexual male, in depicting a lesbian relationship and sexual encounter, through two heterosexual females. The politics of representation is to be looked at and can be questioned quite justifiably one feels. Julie Maroh, raises this objection.

Cinematically, shot with almost a historian's gaze and precision, each scene is crafted to meticulous detail. The director's craftsmanship and demanding methods, which made him shoot numerous takes, until his actors breathed the pain of the characters, almost drove his actors to mutinous thoughts. From the beginning, the filmmaker focuses his camera on the extreme close-ups of his female characters, almost alienating the external world to the background. However, thematically that has a contextual presence. The film explores with a wry sense, the difference in social class in the French society. Explored firstly through the two dinner table sequences, firstly at Emma's place, where her upper-middle class parents, both are aware and acknowledge their daughter's sexual orientation, rebellious and frank disposition, the blue streak and Adèle as her partner. Their choice of topics for conversation, the art, and Adèle's wishing to find something concrete (economically) offering the sustainability for the future is part of her middle class up bringing. Likewise, at her place, her father comments too about the need to find some concrete 'job' as means of economic security over other matters as art, life and passion. Adèle's parents think them to be friends, whereas Emma's are aware of their ongoing relationship. The choice of food offers a social document as well, from the apparently exotic oysters in Emma's place to the much more banal choice of spaghetti at Adèle's.

The metaphorical use of the colour 'blue' which gives the title is seen in the shades of the walls of the classroom of which Adèle is a student, to the light shade in the 'gay' bar which Adèle visits to most importantly the colour of Emma's hair and eventually to the dress which Adèle wears to Emma's art exhibition; the colour represents the freedom, vibrancy and liberation, as well as sadness. The change of Emma's hair from its striking blue to its blonde nature, suggest at the end, that Emma, the vibrant free thinking artist, has walked the road to success, and compromise. The visual symbolism, of the colour blue, which adorns, even the nude portrait which Emma had painted of Adèle during their earlier times, express the cinematic metaphor of transformation. Emma now, has compromised, and fitted in, whereas albeit in melancholy, and uncertainty Adèle is yet to. And as she moves into uncertainty, the film ends.

Politically this leads us to another question. Accepting the fact that cinema is basically a voyeuristic art, Kechiche, has in this film, stretched it to an unfathomable depth. His camera hovers around the ladies and apparently records their every movement, gesture in the most minutest of details. The question arises, both cinematographically and through the narrative, is whose gaze are we the audience being made to see? and in a larger context whose eyes are we seeing it through? Is it not another depiction of a failed lesbian relationship? Is not the auteur exploring, the female body and lesbianism through the tried and tested masculine gaze? Throughout the first part of the film, the extensive use of close-ups documenting the facial gestures, body parts and expressions, is deemed to show the intensive emotional experience of Adèle as she grows into her sexuality and into her own identity. Is the director not being unwittingly drawn into his own subjectivity in depicting Adèle's? Kechiche's obsession about the body of his female leads at times makes an uncomfortable presence in the film. It would have perhaps been better if he had let the two women enjoy the pleasure of the freedom he seems to grant the characters but not the actors. At the point of their breaking-up the hand held camera that almost stalked Adèle on the streets, interiorises wonderfully her emotional trauma and pain; pain experienced in reality as Léa Seydoux was repeatedly asked to hit Adèle the actor to extract every drop of pain possible to be depicted, and such demanding techniques gave as its result an unforgettable sequence of love. The questions however remains, is Kechiche, not asserting to that homophobic discourse, which deem the incompatibility of two women eventually coming together in the central relationship? Though Emma speaks about her new relationship, and family with Lise and the emotional bond, but it is sexless. To contrast it with the central relationship on which the film focuses, is based on sexual passion but at heart unstable. A note of intrigue is brought about at the apparent expression of 'femininity' in the later part of the film, compared to the assertive nature of Emma, a 'masculine' counterpart. Which one feels might be stereotypical.

The film however is about love, and the emotional depths it makes individuals reach. Though the homosexual point in the narrative gives it certain political issues, the entelechic issue here is love. The film is one of the most passionate and brutally honest naturalistic expression of love between two individuals. Love becomes the force through which freedom, social strata, gender politics and largely the construction of identity is viewed. It is the deepest recesses of the self, which the director reaches and makes his actors reach to extract out the tenderness, passion and ferocity which obviously makes love a motivating force, an adventure, which tears and builds and is everlasting. Despite the obvious questions the film would endure, one cannot but feel, that credit has to be given where it is due. In the words of Alain Badiou, "We could say that love is a tenacious adventure. The adventurous side is necessary, but equally so is the need for tenacity. To give up at the first hurdle, the first quarrel, is only to distort love. Real love is one that triumphs lastingly, sometimes painfully, over the hurdles erected by time, space and the world.” (In Praise of Love) 'La Vie d'Adèle' is perhaps the story of that triumph.


Image Courtesy: Wikipedia.

Monday 17 February 2014

Jatiswar: Reincarnated.

Film: Jatiswar (A Musical of Memories)
Dir: Srijit Mukherjee
Cast: Prosenjit Chatterjee, Jisshu Sengupta, Swastika Mukherjee, Abir Chatterjee, Kharaj Mukherjee and others.
Music: Kabir Suman, Indraadip Dasgupta

Gujrati boy Rohit Mehta (Jisshu Sengupta) is apparently in love with Mahamaya ('Bengali with a vengeance')  played by Swastika and goes out to learn Bengali and compose a song for her in Bengali as challenged by her. Rohit takes up the challenge to do the same and woo her lady love. This cross cultural love story between a Gujrati boy and a Bengali girl is the apparently simplistic premise of this film by Srijit Mukherjee. However, what follows weaves another tale and gives the plot another dimension. In a bid to complete his dissertation and learn Bengali language and music, Rohit travels to Chandernagore (erstwhile Pharashdanga) to study about Hensman Anthony, better known as Anthony Phiringee or Anthony Kobiyal. There he meets the simple and unremarkable and yet mysterious Kushal Hazra, the assistant librarian. When in search of Anthony Kobiyal, and accidently bumping into Kushal, hardly does Rohit know that his search of the elusive Portuguese poet and singer from the forgotten pages in history would lead him to a ‘Jatiswar’, a reincarnated Anthony Phiringee. On the one side, is Rohit and the other is a demented, schizophrenic Kushal Hazra. As the forgotten pages of late 19th Century colonial Bengal comes to life, Kushal Hazra played immaculately by Prosenjit Chatterjee slowly disintegrates as the memories of his past life haunt him in the present and slowly obliterates his very existence, physically and mentally. Kushal’s reminiscence of his past life is recounted through disjointed delirium and episodes of paranoia; and through him a forgotten period of Bengali music and tradition is enlivened, and which is the protagonist of the film.

The film is definitely not a reprisal of the famous Uttam Kumar starrer, and neither is the film wholly about Anthony Phiringee, though his shadow looms large over the entire film. The main protagonist of the film is the Music and the tracing of the lineage of ‘Bangla gan’ from its Kobiyal days to the contemporary. Composed by Kabir Suman, the music was meant to be the true highlight of the film and it definitely is. The narrative is woven around the music; the film is the music. Composed with the touch and precision of an astute historian by arguably the greatest composer of our times, our very own ‘Nagorik Kobiyal’ brings to life the ‘kali kirtan’, ‘tarjai’, ‘akhrai’, ‘toppa’ and ‘kheur’ of the Kabigaan era with effortless ease. Without any verifiable notations available, or any ‘teacher’ who would trace this source, what Suman achieves is remarkable to say the least. The nuances, moods, and the witty duels that were composed with impromptu songs are brought to the fore. The forgotten past is rendered lively and the erstwhile colonial Bengal is brought alive for all to see, from Pharashdanga to Sovabajar Rajbari. The 13 kobiyal songs, and the opening song, ‘Khudar Kasam Jaan’ sung by Suman, takes one in a journey to the past, into the mind and music of the Kobiyals through whom we trace a tradition of music. Srijit carefully places the modern composers, band musicians in the film and traces them back in sequences with the Kobiyals of the past. Bengali music is rich in its tradition of poetic talent, and philosophy (which Anthony quite aptly points out in the film, that apart from the music and the words, a very large part of the song is left to philosophy); and hence from that tradition is poured out ‘Khriste ar Kriste kono tofat naire bhai’ or ‘Jaat galo jaat galo bole/ eki ajob karkhana...’. Time is woven as the text in this film, where music is the thread that binds all together. Bhola Moira, to Jagneshwari, to Ram Basu to the majestic Haru Thakur, to Manna Dey, to Sandhya Mukherjee to Rupam Islam and Kabir Suman himself.  Srikanto Acharya as the voice of Anthony Phiringee is wonderful to say the least, Kabir Suman lends his voice to Haru Thakur, revelation as a singer was none other than Suman Mukhopadhyay in whose voice we hear ‘Age Jodi shokhi janitem...’. Sromona Bhattacharya deserves mention as the voice of Jagneshwari and of course Rupankar as the voice of Rohit sings the soulful ‘E Tumi Kamon Tumi’ composed by Kabir Suman himself . Kharaj Mukhopadhyay, one of the most brilliant yet underrated artistes in the Bengali scenario, as Bhola Moira is effortless both with his acting and with his voice. Born out of his cult song of the same name, the soul of the film however goes to Kabir Suman.

On the acting front, Prosenjit as the dual presence of Anthony Phiringee and Kushal Hazra had the hazardous task of essaying two characters 177 years apart in the same film! Though at times, his portrayal of Anthony Kobiyal appears a bit ‘orchestrated’ and lacks an effortless ease; as the demented librarian torn between two worlds, trapped in the memories of the past and on the verge of losing sanity and any contact with verifiable reality, Prosenjit is outstanding. By being on a strict diet, the almost bald, broken look that Prosenjit got for the film without prosthetic aid, would usher in a new high in method acting in Bengali cinema. However, one fault would lie that as Kushal Hazra he gets very little screen time. Possibly to give due credence to the Rohit- Mahamaya love plot, Kushal Hazra the ‘Jatiswar’ has been a bit relegated, whereas it should ideally been him around which the plot revolved. Jisshu with his restrained approach and Swastika with her part does well. Being tutored by Rituparno Ghosh almost during  the final phase of his cinematic life , Jisshu Sengupta has come a long way as an actor and it showed.

Smart photography has always been a hallmark of Srijit Mukherjee and this film is no different on that count. Srijit is brilliant at penning sequences and especially the scene at Rohit's house where Kushal Hazra recouts the last phase of Anthony's life in delirium under a red haze of night lamp is remarkably shot. However, there are certain elements in his films, which he would be ideally better without. For example, the speech bubbles and some almost enforced ‘uber coolness’ in certain characters appear to dilute the film. Credit though should be given to the tracing of locations and the premise and the final expose at the end. The film ends with Kabir Suman who is the 'Gaanola' of modern times, who has no qualms about proclaiming “sokole bolchhe likhchhe Suman/ ashole likhchhe Lalon” combining tradition and individual talent in one unfathomable harmony. Jatiswar is borne out of Suman and fittingly ends with him:

Amarotter prottasha nei nei kono dabidawa
Ei nosshor jiboner mane shudhu tomakei chawa
Muhurto jai jonmer moto andho jatiswar
Goto jonmer bhule jawa smriti bisrito akkhor
Chhera talpata puthir patae nisshas fele hawa
Ei nosshor jiboner mane shudhu tomakei chawa…

Image Courtesy: 'Jatiswar' facebook page.