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Release date:
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January 7, 2017
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Director:
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Satish Rajwade
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Cast:
Language:
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Ankush Chaudhari, Tejashree Pradhan, Abhinay
Berde, Aarya Ambekar, Hruditya Rajwade, Nirmohi Agnihotri, Urmila Kanitkar
Marathi
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The first Marathi
film release of the year is a story of words left unspoken and thoughts left
unexpressed, of relationships that do not find closure haunting us all our
lives, of first love and intense friendship and everything in between.
Ti Saddhya Kay Karte (What
Is She Up To These Days) is about Anurag and Tanvi who were close friends for
years before his awkwardness and confusion as a teenager tore them apart. The
two central characters are played by three artistes each, representing three
different stages of their lives: childhood, the final years of school and
middle age. It is narrated in the present by Anurag a.k.a. Anya as he looks
back at the mistakes that effectively ended one of the most important
relationships of his life, and the second chance he gets to repair the hurt he
caused.
One of
the plus points of Satish Rajwade’s film is that though it is designed as a
commercial venture, complete with song and dance, it does not get loud at any
point. The mellow narrative introduces us to little Anurag and Tanvi, acquaints
us with their blossoming bond, and trots along quietly towards the boy’s
juvenile understanding of romance and their realisation – not clearly
articulated – that they may share something beyond friendship.
Like
so many of us do in our later years, Anurag at that early stage begins to take
Tanvi for granted. As the older Anurag reminisces about those days, he is
confused about the feelings that linger from back then. To reveal more would be
to give away too much. Let’s just say that for the most part the film steers
clear of stereotypical notions of friendship and love.
For
the most part. There are moments when the writing strays, such as when a
teenaged Anurag begins romancing other girls and realises that glamorous Mohini
is actually not interested in him. The older Anurag in the narration dispenses
a cliché at that point. In every group there is a girl who every boy believes
is in love with him; such a girl is pretty, friendly and unattainable, he
explains. In other words, says Anurag, she is “beyond budget”. Although this is
not the same as the “women are teases” stereotype, it is close enough to pander
to members of the male-dominated audience who believe women tend to lead men
on. No doubt there are those in real life who hold such views – point is that,
first, no counterpoint is provided to that dialogue in the film; and second, it
comes from the older and supposedly more mature Anurag, not the kid.
This
is, arguably, the only bow to populism in the film.
Ti Saddhya
departs from its common-sense tone later when a female character explains that
she married her husband, among other reasons, because “after all, he was
the first to ask”. It is hard to tell whether she genuinely meant this or said
it only to convey to the listener the extent of the pain he had caused her. If
she meant it, then it does not fit the kind of person she is shown to be until
then and thereafter”: level-headed, emotional and yet not needy.
Still,
there is plenty in this film to make it worth a watch. It is not earth-shatteringly
original in its depiction of childhood crushes and teen romances (in fact the
entire track involving Anurag and Mohini is such a been-there-seen-that
episode), but the depiction of the adult Anurag and Tanvi – their internal
conflicts, his remorse, her regrets, the remnants of an old wound, their
individual sense of guilt towards their present partners despite not having
betrayed them – is sensible and refreshingly different from the standard
depiction of relationships in Indian cinema.
It
helps that the gentle pace and rhythm of the narrative are engaging. Rajwade’s
low-key storytelling coupled with the placid soundtrack are well-suited to the
subject matter at hand. I especially enjoyed the melody and the singing of Hrudayat waje something composed by Avinash-Vishwajeet, which recurs through Ti Saddhya.
The
tone of the film is established in no small measure by actor Ankush Chaudhari’s appealing voice as
narrator. The adult Anurag could have been reduced to a caricature in some
scenes, but Chaudhari holds back just enough to get it right. He finds a good
match in debutant Abhinay Berde (son of actress Priya Berde and the late
Laxmikant Berde) who plays his teen version.
The pick of the ensemble cast though is the very
attractive Tejashree Pradhan who lightly tugs at our heartstrings with her
restrained performance as the older Tanvi. The little ones have limited screen
time, but Aarya Ambekar as the teen Tanvi is occasionally stilted, though never
more so than in the song Jara jara. (For
the record, the choreography and shooting of that song, with the cast posing
about in an old fort and on a beach, are among the unoriginal aspects of this
film.)
I am willing to live with the fact that Ambekar and Berde look nothing
like Pradhan and Chaudhari, but not with the ageing makeup given to the actors
playing the lead pair’s parents – it is surprisingly inadequate for a film that
is otherwise technically polished.
A large part of Ti Saddhya’s appeal lies in its narrative structure, with the incessant inter-cuts
between the present and the couple’s school years revealing bit by bit
what brought Anurag and Tanvi to where they are at today. This could have been
a huge distraction, but in the hands of editor Rahul Bhatankar is smoothly
executed and effective as a result.
In recent years, film buffs outside Maharashtra have come to associate
the Marathi industry with pathbreaking cinema: from Umesh Kulkarni’s works to
Chaitanya Tamhane’s Court (2015) or
2016’s Sairat. Ti Saddhya Kay Kartey is not on that plane at all. It is not
spectacular. This coming-of-age-late-in-life film is a simpler pleasure,
nostalgic and sweet.
Non-Marathi
audiences, please note:
The production company, Zee Studios, confirms that Ti Saddhya Kay Karte has been released everywhere with English
subtitles. I do not know what prompted the decision not to subtitle the songs
or scenes in which characters are reading (or reading out) SMSes, but for the
rest, the subs are efficient.
Rating
(out of five): **1/2
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CBFC Rating (India):
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U
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Running time:
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127 minutes
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This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
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