Con i suoi due primi film (Bulbbul e Qala), Anvita Dutt già si candida ad erede di Sanjay Leela Bhansali, al cui immenso talento per la creazione di pellicole esteticamente perfette Anvita aggiunge un tocco personale, gotico (anche sinistro) e simbolista che lascia senza scampo.
La squadra al femminile di Bulbbul viene riconfermata per Qala e ci regala uno dei migliori film indiani del 2022. Anvita firma la sceneggiatura e dirige, Anushka Sharma produce (e, al solito, non sbaglia un colpo), Tripti Dimri interpreta il ruolo principale, Meenal Agarwal progetta le scenografie. La regista ama lavorare con il suo team di fedelissimi (inclusi i maschietti Siddharth Diwan per la fotografia e Amit Trived per la colonna sonora), e fa bene, considerando i brillanti risultati.
Anvita, con ferma decisione, realizza pellicole davvero originali. Qala è una tragedia di stampo classico che ci immerge in un'atmosfera sognante da cui non vorremmo più emergere. La sceneggiatura è ricca di temi, a sostegno di un film ricco di suggestioni - non solo visive -, di simboli, di richiami continui che manifestano un'attenzione maniacale per i dettagli. La fascinosa narrazione, non lineare, costruita ad arte, si schiude come un fiore raro.
La passione per la musica e la fragile salute mentale caratterizzano i tre personaggi al centro della trama. La sequenza quasi onirica che meglio identifica la pellicola, è quella che mostra Qala e Jagan nel labirinto, entrambi prigionieri di un groviglio intimo e inespresso di ossessione, delirio e morte. Qala racconta una storia alquanto disturbante di maltrattamenti perpetrati da una figura femminile: Urmila, madre di Qala, è una donna intransigente, anaffettiva, spietata, persino un'assassina mancata.
La protagonista, afflitta sin dalla nascita da un ingiusto senso di colpa, è costretta a realizzare un sogno non suo (solo al pretendente ammetterà di odiarlo) per mendicare - senza ottenerlo mai - un avanzo di amore materno. Alla festa le spuntano due ali scure: la falena è pronta per l'inferno, e il senso di colpa si trasforma in colpa vera. Qala è divorata dalla gelosia, non sviluppa una personalità propria, di fatto non matura, ruba ad altri atteggiamenti e parole (e vita e fama), resta intrappolata nel rimorso e in un passato di abusi psicologici subiti.
Qala diffonde un messaggio femminista, in modo singolare, tipico della visione peculiare di Anvita, anche se le figure femminili non escono bene da questo film.
Tripti, con la sua interpretazione trattenuta e un po' immota, è l'eroina ideale dell'universo cinematografico di Anvita, un'eroina non convenzionale, femminista in maniera non convenzionale, che si ritrova ad agire in situazioni non convenzionali. Swastika Mukherjee, altera e distante, infonde spessore ad un personaggio alienato sepolto in un ambiente alienante. Convincente il debutto di Babil Khan, figlio dell'indimenticabile Irrfan.
L'incantevole fotografia e le inquadrature sublimi contribuiscono al racconto. Personalmente, potrei guardare Qala all'infinito senza stancarmi mai. Quanto alla musica classica indiana, la pellicola te la inietta in vena e ti stordisce. Amit Trivedi, dopo qualche recente passo falso, è tornato il talentuoso compositore che tutti conosciamo, con il bonus di sonorità retrò e appunto classiche forse inedite per lui.
TRAMA
Qala vive con la madre Urmila, insegnante di canto classico, in un'opprimente e lugubre antica casa nel nevoso Himachal Pradesh. Qala si impegna nello studio del canto, ma la madre si mostra sempre insoddisfatta del risultato. Ad un'esibizione canora, Urmila ascolta il giovane Jagan, orfano dal mostruoso talento, e decide di votarsi alla sua educazione musicale. Il destino di Qala a restare nell'ombra sembra definitivamente segnato.
ASSOLUTAMENTE DA NON PERDERE
* [Spoiler] Numerose sequenze e inquadrature, impossibile citarle tutte, ma la mia preferita rimane quella del suicidio di Jagan.
RECENSIONI
Mid-Day: ***
'The filmmakers here are wholly focussed, like the heroine herself, on the life of her mind. (...) Such a serene, somnolent, even slightly surreal film. (...) This film exudes a strongly feminist voice, with a quiet, experiental quality to it'.
Mayank Shekhar, 04.12.22
Film Companion:
'Everything about Qala's career suggests that she is the voice of the marginalised - a trailblazing girlboss determined to use her privilege and push for equality in a deeply chauvinist system. (...) She is a hero, after all. (...) To [Anvita] Dutt's credit, the striking visual language of Qala expresses the anatomy of madness. It feels like part of the narrative detail. (...) It's not just the artful symbolism. (...) It's also the way Qala thinks. (...) It's her mind that determines the sensory tone of this film. (...) The cast bleeds into the film, in all the right ways'.
Rahul Desai, 01.12.22
Cinema Hindi: **** 1/2
Punto di forza: regia, sceneggiatura, fotografia, scenografie, dialoghi, colonna sonora e... tutto il resto.
Punto debole: -
SCHEDA DEL FILM
Cast:
* Tripti Dimri - Qala, cantante classica
* Swastika Mukherjee - Urmila, ex cantante e insegnante di canto classico, madre di Qala
* Babil Khan - Jagan, cantante classico
* Anushka Sharma (cameo) - Devika Rani (famosa attrice indiana degli anni trenta/quaranta del secolo scorso)
* Swanand Kirkire (cameo) - Mansoor Khan
Sceneggiatura e regia: Anvita Dutt *****
Colonna sonora: Amit Trivedi. Segnalo la canzone Phero Na Najariya. Sagar Desai ha composto il commento musicale e il bel brano Udh Jaayega. La colonna sonora è deliziosa, e potete ascoltarla integralmente nel Jukebox. La voce cantante di Qala è di Sireesha Bhagavatula, quella di Jagan è di Shahid Mallya.
Coreografia: Ashley Lobo
Fotografia: Siddharth Diwan *****
Scenografia: Meenal Agarwal *****
Montaggio: Manas Mittal
Anno: 2022
RASSEGNA STAMPA
* Anvita Dutt on Qala, unhappy endings and writing howdunits instead of whodunits, Gayle Sequeira, Film Companion, 7 dicembre 2022:
'Where did the idea of Qala come from?
I wish I knew. It was a combination of wanting to tell a mother-daughter story, of wanting to talk about the things that bother me and also the joy of wanting to set it in an era where theatres were big and music was beautiful. I like to set my films at a different time because I'm making the point that nothing has changed. (...) I wrote the first draft of this film a decade ago. And I started working on it again during the pandemic. I wrote 19 drafts.
Was there anything major that changed along the way or something that you wanted to refine?
The first draft is just writing down everything you think of. Then you get into, 'What do I want to say? What's the best possible way to say it?' I write in a non-linear way because my mind works like that, it jumps timelines. (...) All of writing is hard but the harder bits were taking away elements without which the story became a better version of itself. (...) At one point, I had another character, who I loved and was great fun. The interactions between her, Qala and Jagan were fantastic. When I was on my third draft, I realised that if I took her away, my story would become better, the film would become sharper. (...) My first drafts had more Jagan because I liked him so much. Then I realised that I was indulging myself and imposing myself on the story or the characters. So I pared a bit of Jagan away. The film had just enough Jagan for you to want more of him. (...) I want my films to be like that - aesthetically made, so when they slice you, the pain will be greater, the shock will be more intense.
Tell me about the mother-daughter relationship in this film. (...)
That was the starting point of this story. (...) We've always shown motherhood as this holy vocation. And we've always shown mother-son relationships. (...) I was talking with a psychoanalyst friend who said that most of the women in their 30s and 40s who are dealing with anxiety or depression can trace its roots back to their relationship with the family giver. (...) That was another starting point for the film. I wanted to push and push and push the story to a place where I could make this point. Because if I just gave you a little bit of it, I might not have been able to make as strong a point about mental health and the repercussions of your conditioning, your upbringing, and the pressure of your childhood. (...) You are who you are and that should be enough - that's a lesson I think needs to be talked about and more so for women. (...)
Both your films are stunning, but there's also a very deliberate amount of artifice to them. (...) How do you decide on the amount of artifice?
I don't set it out to make these worlds artificial or stagey, I instinctively make these stories fantastical because that's my conditioning. I've grown up on fantasy and fanfiction. My mind is a hyper-imaginative one and I tend to see things a certain way. (...) When I'm trying to make a point, I use magic realism. (...) The more fantastical the world, the more authentic the character has to be. (...) The otherworldliness of the setting becomes a powerful tool for driving home what you're trying to say. (...)
There is no happy ending for the woman in either of them. (...) Why is this dismantling of the fairytale so important to you?
I want to show you the worst-case scenario. (...) I want to make my films relentless, because if I give you a reprieve, I might not be able to put across my point. (...)
I also find it really interesting how you depict patriarchal systems in both movies because they also have these women who are trapped within them, they're aware of this, but they also perpetuate it. The sister-in-law in Bulbbul, even Qala's mom. (...)
They are as much a product of their conditioning. (...) 'Victim' is such an ugly word but Urmila is as much the victim of an ugly world as Qala is. (...) You can imagine how hard Urmila's past must've been, and how she's survived that. So you have to admire her, but she also perpetuates this intergenerational trauma with Qala. (...)
When you're plotting a film like this, how do you decide how much information to give the audience? (...)
I like howdonits more than whodonits. I believe that people are intelligent. I'm not trying to hide information from them. (...) I want to give them the sense that something is not right, and then show them how and why it's not right. (...)
Do you ever worry about maybe giving too much information to the audience?
As I'm telling you the story, I'm also showing you certain things. I'm revealing my cards one by one. I don't like to spoonfeed but I'm also not lying to you. I'm more interested in telling you the mental and emotional journey of this character who is either finding her agency, losing or being thwarted for trying to find it. (...)
Let's talk about Jagan. (...)
I'm not making a hero of Jagan. He's a visitor. (...) To know who Jagan is you have to pay attention to the boat scene. After the song ends, we cut to a close up of cards being laid at the table. Jagan lays down a Queen, then another Queen and then a Joker. Jagan is that last card. (...) He can be whatever the person who's holding him wants him to be. To Urmila, he's a son. Qala sees him as someone who will make her lose. Urmila sees him as someone who will make her win. (...) Jagan is a very quiet, very still boy, while Babil [Khan] is an energiser bunny. (...) So I used to start each of our workshop sessions with a meditation session so he could get into the mindset of being gentle and quiet'.
* How Netflix’s Qala, a period drama, melds architecture and art to bring a bygone era to life, Nidhi Gupta, Architectural Digest India, 16 dicembre 2022:
'While in pre-production, “Meenal [Agarwal, la scenografa] showed me a piece of jewellery,” [Anvita] Dutt tells AD India. “An utterly beautiful moth brooch by [Rene] Lalique. That entire Calcutta house is a projection of that one brooch: the curves, shapes, colours, mother of pearl, the greens, enamel - in the doors, lamps, gilt mirrors; everything. Meenal said, ‘the moths of her mind go wherever she goes, right’, and that blew my mind.” To reach the heart of Qala’s darkness, the team has invoked Victorian Gothic architecture (“inherited architecture that was seen in India among a certain class at the time”, according to Agarwal), early 20th-century Art Nouveau (partly because Agarwal is not a fan of Art Deco, then a popular architectural form) and the art of Dutch Golden Age masters (“so much darkness and decay!”). Except for some outdoor scenes shot on location in Gulmarg and the Royal Opera House in Mumbai, the team built elaborate sets and painstakingly fabricated props for everything else. Most of the action takes place between two residences. Urmila’s cavernous Gothic family mansion in Himachal Pradesh, which Dutt dubbed “the house of oppression”, came with pointed arches, stained glass rose windows and moss green velvet walls. Qala’s stylish Art Nouveau bachelor pad in Calcutta, “the house of delirium”, is replete with mirrors, elegant wallpaper and sinuous chandeliers. It exudes prosperity but, devoid of any personal knick-knacks, it subtextually also channels her self-consciousness and discomfort. Both spaces reek of privilege, but neither is particularly welcoming. The labyrinth outside Qala’s childhood house, inspired by a hotel in Himachal Pradesh while scouting for locations. Agarwal decided to build it on set, and an exact replica for the toy, after Dutt’s epiphany: “Qala and Jagan trapped in this maze, the mercury moving slowly through the toy version, Qala trying to find her centre - every theme that I could think of, segued back to that maze.” (...) Visual metaphors abound in Qala. More than the dialogue, the chandeliers, mirrors, wallpapers, gargoyles, mazes, zoetropes speak volumes about the protagonist’s turmoil. Dutt (...) invests heavily in world-building. “This isn’t art for art’s sake. It’s in service of the story. And every frame conveys an emotion”.'
CURIOSITÀ
* Il personaggio di Jagan si ispira a Master Madana, giovanissimo cantante della fine degli anni trenta del secolo scorso che registrò solo otto canzoni. Morì assassinato a 14 anni, avvelenato col mercurio diluito nel latte.
* Riferimenti al cinema indiano: Devika Rani
* Film che trattano lo stesso tema: per la musica classica, The Disciple (marathi) ma anche Sarvam Thaala Mayam (tamil); per la patologia mentale, Judgementall Hai Kya.
GOSSIP & VELENI
* La vita privata di Swastika Mukherjee, volto noto del cinema bengali, sembra un film. È tuttora legalmente sposata (anche se di fatto separata) con un uomo violento. L'attrice ha provato a sporgere denuncia per abusi domestici, denuncia in seguito ritirata. Swastika ha intrecciato chiacchierate relazioni con Jeet e con Parambrata Chattopadhyay. Parambrata è stato a sua volta denunciato dal marito dell'attrice per adescamento (?). Il 2014 è stato un anno orribile per Swastika: un tentato suicidio e una denuncia per furto in una gioielleria.
* La scenografa Meenal Agarwal è la moglie di Rajat Kapoor.
* Solo a me la voce cantante di Qala sembra di seta (Sireesha Bhagavatula è bravissima), nettamente superiore a quella del rivale Jagan (Shahid Mallya)?
* Un minuto di silenzio per le maestose vetrate della casa di Qala a Calcutta. Roba da sindrome di Stendhal.
