Release date:
|
March 24, 2017
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Director:
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Mahesh Narayanan
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Cast:
Language:
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Parvathy, Kunchacko Boban, Fahadh Faasil, Asif
Ali, Anjali Aneesh, Prakash Belawadi
Malayalam with some
Arabic, Hindi, English, Tamil (most of the non-Malayalam dialogues carry
Malayalam subtitles)
|
You know you are having a grand time as a film buff when it is still
the first quarter of the year and already your “Best Indian films of 2017” list
has begun writing itself in your head. Take a bow, Mollywood, for having the
capacity to deliver an Angamaly Diaries and a Take Off within the
same month. And take a bow Indian cinema as a whole for having the capacity to
deliver a Take Off from Mollywood and an Anaarkali of Aarah from
Bollywood within the same week.
Sadly, language politics in the coverage of films by the so-called
‘national’ media is such that most English platforms have either entirely
ignored or given short shift to two of these three films because they are not
in Hindi. Sad, because Take Off is an ode to the Indian spirit,
not the Malayali spirit alone. There is that other little matter: it is
brilliant.
Well-known film editor Mahesh Narayanan makes his directing debut with
a story inspired by the real-life experiences of Indian nurses held captive in
2014 in Tikrit, caught between Iraqi government forces and ISIS. The nurses’
ordeal is recounted through the fictionalised life of one, Sameera played by
Parvathy.
Take Off gives us time with Sameera, extensively covering her personal history
before placing her in Tikrit, so that when tragedy ultimately strikes, we
already deeply care for her.
We see Sameera through professional challenges, as a dutiful daughter
asserting the right to provide for her parental home after marriage and
fighting the conservatism of her marital home. Within minutes, as the power of
Narayanan’s storytelling draws us in, her journey becomes ours. And so we
follow her at work, through her romantic relationships, marriage, motherhood
and ultimately to Iraq where she travels for a job. It is important that we do
so, because by the time she comes face to face with ISIS, we are fore-armed
with the knowledge that battle is a habit for her and courage is second nature.
At one point, before the jehadists take over her hospital, Sameera
says: How long will I be afraid? Growing up I was afraid of my father, then my
husband, and now my son.
It is a turning point in our understanding of her, because while fear
itself may be a reflex reaction beyond human control, succumbing to that fear
is a choice – a choice this woman does not make.
The escape of Indian nurses from Tikrit was widely covered by the media, so we already know this story’s ending. It is a testament to Narayanan
and his co-writer P.V. Shajikumar’s skills that despite this, in Take Off’s
final moments they spring a surprise on us drawn from the fictional elements of
the script.
There has been talk that Take Off has shades of Airlift. This
is an unthinking parallel, because apart from the fact that both are based on true
stories set in Iraq involving Indians stuck in conflict zones, the two films
are as different as a single apple and an orchard full of oranges. Airlift was entertaining, slickly produced and unusual in that commercial Hindi cinema
usually steers clear of contemporary history, but it was also an intentionally dishonest film that painted real-life stars as villains in an effort to build
up its protagonist played by Akshay Kumar.
Take Off has integrity. Of course Sameera is the central figure, but she is not
artificially lionised by diminishing others in a bid to play to the gallery.
The names of the characters in this real-life drama are not used in the film,
but several are present: a fictionalised Indian ambassador to Iraq (played by
Fahadh Faasil) who engineers the nurses’ escape, a foreign secretary played by Prakash Belawadi, in
addition to Minister for External Affairs Sushma Swaraj and then Kerala CM
Oommen Chandy, both of whom make an appearance as unnamed voices on the
telephone.
Though the ambassador is the kingpin of the op, it is implied that all
four are a cohesive team.
Central to the success of this film is Parvathy’s flawless performance
as Sameera. She seems not to strain a single nerve or muscle to capture the
spirit of our incredibly strong heroine. You would think that she is not
acting, she is just being.
The
supporting cast is as impeccable. Kunchacko Boban deserves a special mention
for his endearing turn as the unconventional man behind this unconventional
woman, even if his character provides perhaps the only episode of incongruity
and indecisiveness in the film, the only episode in which the writers appear
unjust and conservative in their view of a woman’s right to make decisions
regarding her life or prioritise herself over others.
Faasil holds himself back to just the right degree, to ensure that his
character’s heroism never acquires a filmic swagger. Asif Ali’s brief but
impactful role momentarily erases thoughts of the godawful Honey Bee 2: Celebrations that is also currently in theatres.
Every tiny role – whether of Indians, Iraqis or others – has been cast
with the sort of attention to detail that makes Take Off the work of
genius that it is.
Narayanan has co-edited the film with Abhilash Balachandran. Their
flair is particularly evident in the smoothness of the intercuts between
multiple strands of Sameera’s life in the first hour of Take Off – far
from being confusing, the narrative structure serves to highlight the
unrelenting nature of Sameera’s struggles. How is this woman not
exhausted?
No individual is caricatured here, though it must have been tempting to
at least parody ISIS. What you do not show is sometimes as telling as what you
do. By hinting at a flash of humanity from a bigot at one point and not clearly
revealing the man’s act of kindness (we can only guess at it), Narayanan snubs
his nose at the “you are either with us or against us” attitude pervading our
world. Life is not a college debating society where you must be for or against
a motion, life usually plays out in confusing shades of grey of the sort
Narayanan chooses to capture.
This is a thinking man – even the most minuscule element in the film
points to that. The use of language, for one. Take Off did not have
English subtitles in the NCR theatre where I watched it, but embedded in the
film are Malayalam subs that suggest a stance on the country’s language debate.
Narayanan clearly does not subscribe to the average north Indian’s vision of
Hindi as a language all Indians ought to know or the false notion that it is a
language every Indian does know. As characters in Take Off slip
in and out of Malayalam, Arabic, Hindi, English and even a spot of Tamil, it is
interesting that Malayalam subs come up on screen for the Arabic, English and
Hindi dialogues but not Tamil, reflecting the reality of language as it is
understood by Take Off’s primary target audience who are Malayalam
speakers.
One argument I have with the film is its fleeting lack of clarity on
the matter of women’s reproductive rights: without giving anything away, let me
just say that under Indian law a woman does not need her husband’s permission
for an abortion, although many conservative doctors act as moral police in this
matter. The fuzziness here seems deliberate, which is disappointing in a film
that is crystal clear with every other point it makes, sans sermons or
lectures.
Barring
this passage, Narayanan speaks in an assured voice, complemented by world-class
technical departments. Sanu John Varghese’s cinematography, Shaan Rahman and
Gopi Sundar’s music, the measured sound design (Vishnu Govind, Sree Sankar) and
credible production design (Santosh Raman) all contribute towards making this a
realistic, thoroughly nuanced, gritty and gripping film.
Take Off is not what might conventionally be described as ‘issue-based’, yet
its every word, shot and line brims with meaning. The film is packed with
commentary on gender, religion, terrorism, questionable decisions that are
inevitable in diplomacy, mental wellness, Kerala society, poverty,
unemployment, immigration, the enemy within Islam, the mindlessness of the many
who adopt a path of violence without foreseeing consequences for themselves,
and more.
In one potent scene, Sameera camouflages a pregnancy by voluntarily
donning a burqa, a garment she had earlier pointedly avoided, thus earning her
in-laws’ censure. Is she now succumbing to patriarchy? Or is she, as a member
of a marginalised social group, cleverly using a tool of exploitation to her
advantage, to beat the exploiter at their own game? Like the diplomats in the
film who use their knowledge of forces of evil to overcome them?
Did I forget to mention that Sameera is pregnant
through most of Take Off? That her resilience urges us to rethink our
definition of strength? Or that the beautifully understated use of the national
anthem in Take Off should serve as a lesson to those currently pandering
to self-styled ‘nationalists’ by foregrounding Jana Gana Mana in a
contrived manner in their films?
No I did not, because there is just too much to
say. Take Off is one of most intelligent thrillers I have seen in a long
time. This is a riveting survival saga, made by a
team gifted with acute political and social awareness. It is, in one word, stunning.
Rating
(out of five stars): ****1/2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
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Running time:
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139 minutes
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This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/TakeOff.Movie/
You say:"One argument I have with the film is its fleeting lack of clarity on the matter of women’s reproductive rights"
ReplyDeleteI say: HAHAHAHAHAHA. Are you writing a thesis on "Women's Reproductive rights in commercial movies"?
Cringe.
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