REVIEW 595: NUDE

Release date:	April 27, 2018
Director:	Ravi Jadhav
Cast: Language:	Kalyanee Mulay, Chhaya Kadam, Om Bhutkar, Madan Deodhar, Kishor Kadam, Naseeruddin Shah Marathi

Nude did not make as much news as S Durga nee Sexy Durga did when the I&B Ministry barred both from the International Film Festival of India (IFFI) last year. That is because S Durga’s director Sanal Kumar Sashidharan made his displeasure public, challenged the decision in court and waged a high-profile battle with the establishment. Marathi director Ravi Jadhav and his producers chose a quieter, perhaps safer, path than their fiery counterpart from the Malayalam film industry.

Fortunately for cinephiles, their differing approaches to countering censorship have got the same result in each case: a month after S. Durga’s theatrical release, Nude too is here.

Nude (Chitraa) is the story of a poor woman who comes to Mumbai with her son to escape an abusive, adulterous husband in her hometown.

After struggling to find work in the big city, Yamuna lands a job as a nude model for art students at the prestigious Sir J J School of Art. The film is based on a true story but the identities of the actual individuals involved have been kept secret, as a written statement from Jadhav on screen testifies at the start, “in keeping with our commitment to the school’s protocol and related sensitivities”.

On the face of it, Nude is about Yamuna’s struggles against poverty, patriarchy and conservatism. At a macro level though, it examines the failure of social and political fundamentalists to understand art, and their conscienceless denunciation of the very works they consume with a lustful gaze.

Like sanctimonious men who masturbate to lovemaking scenes on screen, but condemn the actors they are watching as whores, Nude’s villains are all around us in real life. This film is a hard-hitting exposé of the fake piety of such conservatives.

Despite the wistful tone, there is a lot about Nude that is positive and life-affirming, with even a flash of humour emerging unexpectedly while Yamuna settles into her new profession. Jadhav has shown extreme sensitivity in the way he portrays his heroine’s initial shame at the job and how she overcomes that feeling. The bond she shares with Chandrakka, the woman who introduces her to nude modelling, is heartwarming.

Although Yamuna’s decision at the end of Nude does not flow convincingly from her journey until then, so much else in the film is credible and inspiring. The high point of Nude for me is a scene in Yamuna and Chandrakka’s hovel right after Yamuna gets her first payment, when we see a transformation in her body language, a melting away of the fearful youngster who had entered the massive metropolis not long back, and a shift in the very air around her. Yamuna at that moment embodies the confidence that comes from financial independence – it is a marvellous thing to behold.

Considering the sophistication of the rest of the film, a crucial scene involving placard-bearing protestors is written and directed with surprising awkwardness. I also could not help but wonder if Jadhav was not taking too uncritical a view of the artist community by not even mentioning the possibility of sexual violence against women like Yamuna.

The care with which she chooses people to pose for came across more as a general observation about the safety of women in society and not a specific reference to those in Yamuna’s situation. It would have helped to throw light on a question as obvious as this.

DoP Amalendu Chaudhary shoots the painting scenes in Nude so delicately that voyeurs looking for flesh-and-blood bottoms and breasts to peruse will be deeply disappointed. If in an early scene running alongside the opening credits, the camera does appear to objectify Yamuna – the only time it does so in Nude – it is to make a point, as you will realise if you heed the lyrics of the soulful song Dis yeti playing alongside in Cyli Khare’s ruggedly attractive voice. “Tell me, oh dear,” she sings as the lens travels over Yamuna’s drenched body encased in a wet sari, “where all will your gaze trail?”

Although the cinematography in Nude is rarely lavish (a choice well suited to the kind of film this is), a mention must be made of a visually noteworthy scene featuring Yamuna on a beach. In closer shots, as the ocean rages before her and a gusty wind blows, those mighty waters look intimidatingly real. The camera keeps pulling out though to long shots in which she and her companion appear like figures in a watercolour painting.

The story of Nude (written by Jadhav) derives its strength and substance from Yamuna and Chandrakka. Chhaya Kadam is a powerful actor and paints Chandrakka as a feisty creature of immense mental muscle. Kalyanee Mulay faithfully captures Yamuna’s passage from misery to upliftment and pain again, not wilting once as the camera stays on her expressive face and body almost from the first shot. Naseeruddin Shah makes a small but memorable appearance as the renowned barefoot painter with a Picasso-esque style, Mallik Sahab, no doubt an ode to the late M.F. Husain.

This of course brings us to why the I&B Ministry objected to Nude being screened at IFFI 2017. The reasons reported included that the film was not yet cleared by the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) and that the title was deemed objectionable. The reason assumed by many liberals was that the title hinting at the possibility of naked people in a film was deemed offensive to India’s culture police. Once you watch Nude you will know that it does not feature a single shot in which we actually see an actor’s unclothed body in its entirety. What we do see though is a Muslim painter hounded by violent political goons so reminiscent of religious extremists who harassed Husain for his goddess paintings. Draw your own conclusions now for whether and why the present ruling party would have a bone to pick with Nude.

As we now know, better sense has prevailed and the film was cleared with no cuts and an A (adults only) rating from the CBFC. While these are small mercies in the present dismal scenario we find ourselves in, the truth is it is ludicrous that such a thoughtful feminist film has been given the strictest available rating, while ugly commercial ventures glorifying violence against women get away with a mild UA (unrestricted public exhibition subject to parental guidance for children below 12) and even U (unrestricted). This is a crying shame, because Nude is excellent material for children especially for the turn Yamuna’s relationship with her son takes. 

Nude’s journey to theatres then mirrors the very societal double standards it explores. This is a lyrical film about human beings and the arts struggling to survive in a hypocritical world.

Rating (out of five stars): ***1/2

CBFC Rating (India):	A
Running time:	112 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/nude-movie-review-a-lyrical-account-of-a-nude-models-life-among-sanctimonious-conservatives-4449895.html

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nude_(2017_Marathi_film)

REVIEW 462: BAGHTOS KAY… MUJRA KAR

Release date:	February 3, 2017
Director:	Hemant Dhome
Cast: Language:	Jitendra Joshi, Aniket Vishwasrao, Akshay Tanksale, Hemant Dhome, Ashwini Kalsekar, Vikram Gokhale, Guest appearance: Shreyas Talpade Marathi

It is risky to say a word against devotees of Shivaji. Making a film slamming hypocritical bhakts of the Maratha king, that too in the Marathi language, is nothing less than an act of bravery. This is the tragedy of the times we live in: that all criticism requires courage, because abuse and assault have become the routine Indian response to contrarian views.

In this scenario, it is important to doff a hat to Hemant Dhome for his debut directorial venture Baghtos Kay... Mujra Kar! before launching a critique of the film. BKMK is about phony Shivaji followers who use the iconic monarch’s name for political gain without any true commitment to him or his legacy. It is a flawed film, yet one that must be lauded for its brave stand on a controversial issue. The story is fictional, but is obviously aimed at the real-life politicians who have sanctioned a sinfully expensive Shivaji memorial in the Arabian Sea.

The hero of Dhome’s tale is Nanasaheb Deshmukh (Jitendra Joshi), the meek sarpanch of Kharbujewadi, a village in Maharashtra’s Satara district. Nanasaheb’s little hamlet adjoins a magnificent – but now neglected – fort from Shivaji’s time.

The state of the structure causes great pain to Nanasaheb who is a disciple of Shivaji. He hopes to restore the fort as part of a development project that includes planting 6,000 trees in the area and using solar panels to generate electricity for the local population. The scheme he envisions will require only Rs 6 crore.

Towards this end, he and his friends/chamchas Pandurang Shinde a.k.a. Panda Sheth (Aniket Vishwasrao) and Shivraj Vahadne a.k.a. Shiva (Akshay Tanksale) decide that Nanasaheb should become an MLA. While he struggles to acquire the clout to get a party ticket in the coming elections, the high command comes up with a plan to build a Shivaji Memorial at a cost of Rs 1,600 crore. Nanasaheb is disillusioned because he believes this money should have been used instead to save the existing archaeological reminders of Shivaji in the state and for the welfare of the poor.

The film is about the politics surrounding the memorial and Nanasaheb’s attempt to achieve his goals.

BKMK starts off nicely enough. It is interesting in the way it reminds us of the grandeur of the Maratha empire with its aerial shots of Nanasaheb’s beloved fort and scenes of sloganeering that are designed to sound like the echoes of words from a distant past. Nanasaheb also has an interesting recurring nightly dream in which he sees himself as an ancient Maratha warrior, a dream that creates an air of expectation around what is to come. We also get lots of pretty visuals of scenic Satara. Even a brief visit to Mumbai later on has been imaginatively shot.

The narrative stumbles early on though for multiple reasons.

The tone of the storytelling and the portrayal of the three protagonists are both very confusing. In a bid to project them as innocent, the film often ends up making them look foolish. There are too many purposeless asides that distract from the main focus of the plot. The portrayal of Panda Sheth’s relationship with his bride, for example, is no doubt meant to be humorous, but unless you find patriarchy funny, there is nothing amusing about his behaviour towards her. Besides, his attitude and the time spent on his interactions with her have no relevance whatsoever to his role in the rest of the film, and appear to have been stuffed into the proceedings in a formulaic fashion for comic relief.

A scheme hatched by the central trio involving Shivaji’s sword is so hare-brained and unconvincing that it robs the film of the gravitas it needed. It is all very well for them to be naïve, but it is hard to tell whether the director expects us to be moved by their determination or to laugh at their stupidity? There is a difference between lack of cunning and lack of intelligence, but BKMK fails to recognise that.

The portion of the film set outside India seems to have been made on a tighter budget than was required. The scenes in London leave much to be desired on the technical front. Many of the frames are ill-chosen and again, the threesome’s antics in the city are a needless comical diversion from a serious subject.

Over and above all this though, the film’s endorsement of Shivaji worship is troubling. I am not taking a position here on Shivaji’s greatness. The point is that while it is necessary to expose those who build extravagant mammoth monuments in his name but neglect dying farmers, it is just as necessary to critique the Maratha king himself. Nanasaheb’s deification of Shivaji is projected as a positive attribute. Dhome needs to be reminded that idol worship has turned us into a nation where a balanced discourse on revered historical figures is becoming almost impossible.

So yes, BKMK must be praised for giving a well-deserved tongue-lashing to those who exploit the legacy of Shivaji for narrow personal gain, but it must also be called out for its own uncritical view of the legendary ruler.

BKMK revolves around an extremely important theme. It is worth repeating that Dhome deserves a salaam for sticking his neck out in this fashion over such a contentious matter. His stance on the Shivaji Memorial in Maharashtra is unflinching and admirable. Sadly, valour alone does not add up to a good film.

Footnote: The Marathi films I have watched in Delhi so far have been reasonably well subtitled as far as I can remember, which is why the quality of the subs for this one are particularly surprising. “All they want is to fill each other’s coiffeurs,” were the words on screen at one point while characters discussed politicians pretending to care about Shivaji. It goes without saying that these netas did not intend to pack their hairdressers or their hairdos with money. Someone please tell the subtitling team that. The number of spelling and grammatical errors were too many to be excused. “Smasher” stood in for a character named “Shamsher”, for instance. It is also a pity that none of the songs were subtitled.

Rating (out of five): *

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	144 minutes

A version of this review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/baghtos-kay-mujra-kar-review-phony-shivaji-bhakts-get-a-tongue-lashing-they-deserve-3267640.html

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baghtos_Kay_Mujra_Kar