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Pink and Parched – Triumph of Indian cinema

The month of September has been a treat Indian cine-goers with meaningful films like Island City, Pink (and now Parched) adding to the delight in the midst of all the balderdash.

Last week’s release, Pink was a strong statement against the deep-rooted misogyny in our society. With his very crafty use of subtlety and brutal realism, Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury taught us when a woman says ‘No’ it means no.

The strong screen presence of Amitabh Bachchan and Piyush Mishra, accentuated by the bold performances of Taapsee Pannu, Kirti Kulhari, Andrea Taring and Angad Bedi, truly complemented the effortless writing and skilled camerawork that made the thriller-cum-courtroom drama a treat for the senses.

 

pink-movie-poster

Pink Movie Poster

 

Pink gives us a message without being preachy. It deals with the oft-so-repeated clichés about feminism, but the fresh treatment drives home the message so effortlessly that you are numbed by the time end credits roll.

The one scene from the court, where Palak breaks down in the face of constant grilling of the prosecution is extremely relevant in our times. So what if a woman takes money in lieu of sexual favours? It is well within her rights to say no, and when she does no one dare force her into bed!

In fact, out of the three female protagonists, Palak will remain my favourite. With shades of grey, she is the weakest among the lot – but when harassed to the point of brink, she stands up to the bullying boys and refuses to cow down!

The best thing about Pink is that the film does not offer us any scope of being judgmental. The incident at Surajkund which triggers the chain of events in the film, is shown in the end credits – the audience keeps guessing and putting pieces together based on the witness accounts in the courtroom.

At a time when rapes have become just another headline in the inside pages of newspapers, molestation is commonplace and eve-teasing sort of birth right for the men, Pink brilliantly tears down the false notion that women who drink, socialise or solicit with men, are inviting them for sex.


While Pink deals with four middle-class girls from South Delhi, Parched is set in the deserts of rural Rajasthan; an antithesis of the urban saga. It is the story of four women who are ‘outcasts’ even in the 21st century.

Rani (Tannishtha Chatterjee) is a widow who weds his teenage son to a 15-year old Janki. Although Janki (Lehar Khan) has a lover in her village, she is forcefully wedded to Gulab (Riddhi Sen) for money. To foil the wedding, Janki even sacrifices her prized possession – her waist-length hair, thus becoming a laughing stock in the village.

 

parched

A scene from Parched

 

Rani’s friend and soulmate in the village Lajjo (Radhika Apte) is a happy soul save the fact she is unable to bear a child. Obviously, the husband thinks it is the fault of the woman as men can never be infertile. Her barrenness is a reason for misery and nocturnal abuse for Lajjo. Rani has another friend, Bijli (Surveen Chawla) who dances at the ‘tamasha’ by the evening and sleeps with men for money at night.

‘Parched’ in true sense is a film about women’s liberation. It is not coincidental thus the climax occurs on ‘Dashami’, the last day of Durga Puja (or Navratri in the part of India where the story is set). These four women, cocooned in their worlds, have their share of fun. They joke about men, come up with curse-words named after men (move over MC, BC), seek solace in each other and are also involved in making handicrafts for a local self-help group.

Patriarchy comes in any form – whether it is the abusive husband or the brash son who looks down upon his widow mother, or even the customers who think they own a woman because they have paid for her for the night. Society deals a rough blow to the four women but they refuse to be bogged down. Their thirst for freedom in this parched land keeps them going.

Tannishtha Chatterjee and Radhika Apte are both strong actors with their own legacy and do full justice to the roles. Surveen Chawla is a revelation as Bijli. This confident young girl refuses to let go of her aspirations even when a new ‘tamasha’ girls forays into the circus or when the man she thought understood her desire for freedom fails to live up to her expectations.

Leena Yadav’s film is raw, bold and real. She drives home the message that women have the right to decide the course of their lives, no one else. The whole film has an earthy feel and the dialogues are at times raunchy. The writing has various shades – from gloomy to boisterous, as is life.


Films like Pink and Parched need to be made more often. More stories like these need to told if the centuries-old patriarchy has to be eliminated. Thanks to Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury and Leena Yadav for making a start.

 

My Rating: 4/5 stars to both the films

DISCLAIMER: All Images Used In This Pose Have Their Respective Copyrights

Aparajita Tumi – A Review

Aniruddha Roy ChowdhuryWe are all born to die one day. But before our mortal remains reach their expiry date, we need to live by the rules of this world. Being alive does not necessarily suggest a zest for living. Our mundane routine often seeks change, an outlet to escape the monotony of life, and seek adventure. It is our outlook towards life that gauges our spirit.

Aparajita Tumi is the story of a Bengali couple, Pradeep and Kuhu, living in the United States. Their unromantic conjugal life enters a tumultuous phase as Kuhu learns about Pradeep’s extra marital affair. Relationships are put to acid test, sensibilities invoked, hard decisions made. Aparajita Tumi transcends the simple tale of a failing marriage and delves into the psyche of human mind, a feat Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury accomplishes seamlessly.

Based on Sunil Ganguly’s novel “Dui Nari, Hate Torobari”, Aparajita Tumi also features another Bengali couple, Ronojoy and Ushashi – the antithesis of Pradeep-Kuhu. Their dissimilarities are the common thread between the two couples. A clash of egos, Ushashi’s low self esteem and a saga of vengeance unfolds as the story progresses.

Viewers might find the pace of the narrative a bit too slow. Actually the film moves at a pace slower than Raincoat. But when you juxtapose this fact to the tumultuous episodes facing the characters, one is forced to marvel at Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury’s acumen. From Anuranan to Aparajita Tumi, he has finally matured as a story teller.

Aparajita Tumi is visually stunning. I do not remember watching a more beautiful portrayal of San Fransisco in any movie made in any language. Aniruddha always manages to make the city a part of the script. Aparajita has been no exception.

Kuhu

Picture Courtesy Music Jagat

In a film where expressions matter more than dialogues, actors become the pillars of the movie. Padmapriya and Prasenjit live upto their characters. One can easily sympathise with Kamalinee when she is rebuked for the “extra salt in the Ilish Mach” in front of a room full of people. Indraneil Sengupta (Yousuf) comes as a breeze and passes by like a whirlwind. One cannot help but take notice of his flawless Bangal dialogue delivery. Albeit Chandan Roy Sanyal has a small screen presence, but he makes a dent on your minds with his recitation of Shakespeare.

The film would be incomplete had it not been for three men – Chandreel, Shantanu Moitra and Anindya. The music fits into the screenplay so beautifully that it takes the narrative ahead without becoming nuisance. The conflicts of the minds lay bare in the songs penned by Chandril and Anindya. Shantanu’s score adds the salt to the food that could otherwise have become bland.

There is a sincerity with which Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury tells his stories. His serene approach towards the gravity of life and its ugliness is his signature appeal. Quite similar to Anuranan in theme, and strikingly resembling Antaheen in execution, Aparajita Tumi brings out his best so far. No matter what others say, its slow pace is its USP.

My Rating – 3/5

P.S. – 1. Read the film’s music review here.

2. The film has its obvious flaws. Some cliches and some overt advertisements for the sponsors do take away the sheen from the beautiful poetry in motion on screen.

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