SAANI KAAYIDHAM

Barbaro e spietato nel contenuto, affascinante nella forma, Saani Kaayidham è una stella cometa che illumina il vituperato sottogenere rape/revenge movie. Pur seguendone religiosamente la struttura, pur rischiando di sconfinare nello splatter e nel torture porn, SK colpisce per la decisa artisticità e per il valore delle interpretazioni. 

L'arte impregna inquietanti sequenze oniriche e inquadrature incastonate come quadri su una parete, inquadrature che restringono la realtà e catturano l'occhio. Frammenti in bianco e nero connotano lo struggimento del ricordo, la dolcezza ingannevole del miraggio. Le riprese in notturna sono magnetiche, lavano via la luce scabra del giorno, ammorbidiscono l'orrore.

Keerthy Suresh, totalmente conquistata dal suo personaggio, è eroica. Keerthy si produce in un ricco ventaglio di espressioni e trasformazioni. Dialoghi sussurrati e battute espulse come proiettili, sguardi acuminati, gesti che squarciano lo schermo e si incuneano nella carne. Mi ci vorrà del tempo per dimenticare la sua interpretazione. Considerando la natura cruenta del film, difficile che l'attrice si aggiudichi un National Award (e già m'indigno). Selvaraghavan è sgualcito e sottotono, spontaneo e credibile. Il suo Sangayya si confonde con lo scenario e sembra chieder scusa di esistere. È privo di compiacimento, imperturbabile, si comporta come chi ha un compito da assolvere, in assoluta, serena neutralità. Tutto il cast è di primissimo ordine.

SK è un angoscioso, brutale bagno di sangue. Gli effetti speciali non sono all'altezza della qualità tecnica della pellicola, ma per fortuna non la pregiudicano. La regia è originale, sofisticata, con i denti caparbiamente conficcati in ciascun fotogramma. La sceneggiatura, ben segmentata, di un femminismo implacabile, va oltre l'aspetto truculento ed esplora le feroci dinamiche che governano la discriminazione castale. I personaggi, disumani e crudeli, si muovono in un abisso tossico, maschilista. La forza femminile è dirompente, inesorabile, uno tsunami punitivo di sadico sterminio.   

TRAMA

Un uomo di bassa casta commette l'imperdonabile errore di occuparsi di politica. L'episodio innesca una catena di atrocità. Ponni, la moglie, agente di polizia, viene attirata con l'inganno, picchiata e ripetutamente stuprata. [Spoiler] L'uomo e la figlioletta vengono bruciati vivi. I colleghi di Ponni sono collusi. Fallita la giustizia, resta solo la vendetta. Con l'aiuto del fratellastro Sangayya, vittima di un crimine analogo, Ponni si vota al massacro con furia cieca. 

ASSOLUTAMENTE DA NON PERDERE

* Il breve, toccante monologo di Ponni nel secondo segmento (Ponni, the curse, and society). Ti strappa il cuore per ridurlo in poltiglia. Keerthy Suresh è immensa.

* Ma cos'è, nel finale, quel delizioso vecchio film di fantascienza, in bianco e nero, con tanto di tutine argentate e dischi volanti??

RECENSIONI

The Hindu:

'There is a rare pessimistic look that Arun Matheswaran brings about in his films through the use of monochrome visuals as a means to convey despair and suffering. Arun uses this black and white cinematography only at intervals, especially for the characters’ flashbacks. (...) The pessimism in Arun’s films comes from powerlessness. The monochrome, in other words, is intended to convey the stillness of the characters and the absence of colour in their lives. This, of course, can be attributed to the narrative choice with a very specific purpose: to tease us with a flashback. But the backstory never becomes the forefront, it is only a reminder. There are at least two absolutely stunning shots in the flashback that do remind you of Bergman - just in terms of its choreography. First is an extreme long shot of a deserted hut and a boy who looks deserted. Second, also an extreme long shot, of a (deserted?) mother and her daughter in focus, while the boy becomes a shadow figure in the background. (...) Cinematographer Yamini Yagnamurthy does a fantastic job; her work is very formal. She opens with a wide, a mid and a close-up shot. This sort of a composition is what you would find in classic films. Yamini is especially terrific when it comes to filming scenes of sexual violation, but more about that later. Arun Matheswaran is a fascinating talent, no doubt. He looks at cinema not just as a means of telling stories but epics. Hence, he is not satisfied with making films, but epics. (...) The politics in Saani Kaayidham is direct and closer to reality with caste-based violence. (...) If you take revenge as a genre, most filmmakers would look at it from the prism of cause and effect. And hence, they would be content with having three big moments in the narrative. Or maybe four. But in Arun’s films, these big moments are what they are about. These big moments aren’t exactly “big” in the conventional sense. (...) These are big in thoughts, choices and the scale with which frames are painted with blood. In other words, Arun Matheswaran’s films don’t build up to violence. They are designed to begin and end in violence, even at the conceptual level. This rare conviction that Arun possesses is what makes him a committed filmmaker. That commitment is even rarer to find these days, when films are increasingly becoming corporate-controlled and filmmakers needlessly pandering to the tastes of the market. Having said that, this writer definitely feels Arun needs to put the practice of his stylised violence to better use. He needs to direct his violence towards the audience and not be content with exploiting it for “shock” value. He needs to direct his violence towards making standout sequences. (...) The brutal sexual assault (...) is very, very disturbing and chilling. Yet, the sequence eschews the usual sensationalism. (...) Props to Arun and Yamini for filming the assault with minimum details. The sequence, yes, is cruel. But Arun is careful not to exploit the assault, unlike our commercial filmmakers. At the same time, Arun is equally careful when it comes to writing the bad guys. They are not bad because of what they do, but how they think. (...) But this is to not say that Saani Kaayidham is entirely brilliant. (...) Yes, violence is graphic, but it is not real. (...) This happens because violence is stylised. Sometimes the film does make you feel it was conceived for these “big” moments and not the other way round. (...) Keerthy Suresh’s eyes never looked more powerful. Selvaraghavan, on the other hand, is a great choice'.

Srivatsan S., 06.05.22

Recensione integrale

Galatta:

'Arun [Matheswaran] has a wonderful eye for composition, (...) he likes to hold his shots for a long time, without quick cuts, (...) he makes superb use of locations, (...) he loves frames within frames, and (...) he really gives super-precise instructions to the composer. Sam C.S.'s work is easily the highlight of the film. (...) These sounds do a lot to give the film the emotional undercurrents that are not there in the writing. (...) The main attraction of the film is the cast. Stripped of makeup, Keerthy Suresh dives into a difficult role. There are still some "mainstream" touches in her performance, but overall, she's quite effective. And Selvaraghavan is wonderful. He is almost like a child. He wears half-pants and seems more comfortable around children. But when hell breaks loose, he becomes a demon. The transition is remarkable. (...) Arun seems to be a better director than writer, and his characters feel one-dimensional. There are no shades. The arty black-and-white flashbacks (...) aren't enough. But a bigger problem (...) is the lack of a strong antagonist. (...) The killings happen almost too easily, and at no point do we feel the dangers in the path Keerthy Suresh and Selvaraghavan set out on. The mission feels like ticking items off a to-do list, and this lack of variation in scenarios becomes numbing after a point. The basic narrative about two people - the leads - coming together through a horrific set of crimes is certainly interesting. At first, they barely interact. By the end, they forge a bond. (Hence the more conventional, sentimental music.) Another interesting thread is that of the oppressed caste as all-out avengers. (...) But all of this would have come through better with stronger writing, both in terms of characters and situations. The film is filled with touches. (...) But what's missing is the primal emotion of rage. We don't feel what the characters feel. They stay at a distance, and so does the film'.

Baradwaj Rangan

Recensione integrale

Cinema Hindi: **** perché ci vuole audacia e visione tragica per affrontare un rape/revenge movie con tanta convinzione e senso artistico.

Punto di forza: la desolazione come forma d'arte, Keerthy Suresh (*****), Selvaraghavan (****), il cast, la regia, la fotografia in stato di grazia, i dialoghi affilati, il montaggio.

Punto debole: gli effetti speciali.

SCHEDA DEL FILM

Cast:

* Keerthy Suresh - Ponni

* Selvaraghavan - Sangayya

Sceneggiatura e regia: Arun Matheswaran

Colonna sonora: Sam C.S.

Fotografia: Yamini Yagnamurthy

Montaggio: Nagooran Ramachandran

Lingua: tamil

Traduzione del titolo: pulp paper, low-quality paper.

Anno: 2022

Trailer

CURIOSITÀ

* SK fa parte di una trilogia sulla vendetta. Il primo capitolo, Rocky, distribuito il 23 dicembre 2021, è stato accolto con clamore dalla critica (trailer). Nulla è trapelato sul terzo capitolo. Il prossimo lavoro di Matheswaran è Captain Miller, un film d'azione ad alto budget ambientato negli anni trenta del secolo scorso, interpretato da Dhanush.

* Keerthy Suresh ha vinto il National Award come miglior attrice protagonista per Mahanati (telugu).

* Selvaraghavan è un regista. Nel 2022 debutta come attore in Beast, ma in un ruolo di supporto. Dhanush è suo fratello.

* Film che trattano lo stesso tema - rape/revenge: Bandit Queen, Maatr, Mom, Ajji, l'horror Bulbbul, 22 Female Kottayam (malayalam). Storie di vendetta al femminile: Kahaani, NH10, Gangs of Madras (tamil).

V E Y I L

Un certo tipo di cinema in lingua malayalam ti colpisce dritto al cuore. Al di là delle eventuali lacune nella sceneggiatura, della prolissità nella narrazione, delle reiterazioni di soggetto o formula, ti colpisce comunque dritto al cuore. È un cinema emotivo, sorretto da interpretazioni interiorizzate e da registi appassionati. Non sempre esaltante, mai freddo. Racconta vicende personali, conflitti familiari, esperienze anche dolorose, dilemmi morali. I personaggi sembrano spenti perché taciturni e introversi, riflessivi, spesso tormentati.

Veyil rientra a pieno titolo nella categoria. Siddhu, un giovane fragile e rabbioso, cerca la sua strada e sfiora il crimine, oscilla fra un disperato desiderio di essere accettato e impeti irrazionali di aggressività. La sceneggiatura è fitta ma un po' confusa. Il perno narrativo è l'aggrovigliato rapporto madre-figlio, da cui si dipanano a ventaglio le altre sottotrame - interessante l'esito della storia d'amore. Veyil si sforza di mostrare tutti gli aspetti in gioco. Siddhu, infelice e prigioniero di se stesso, non è conficcato artificialmente in uno scenario: il suo passato, il suo bagaglio personale, le sue relazioni affettive e il suo quadro psicologico sono delineati con cura. È completo nelle sue insicurezze e nella sua traiettoria di evoluzioni e involuzioni. La sua formazione passa in secondo piano rispetto alla caratterizzazione del personaggio: chi era? chi è? come lo è diventato?

Il cast è ottimo, in particolare Shane Nigam, attore la cui sensibilità ben si addice al vulnerabile Siddhu. Sarath Menon, regista e sceneggiatore, è ispirato e complice. Pur con qualche esitazione e qualche incertezza di troppo nel ritmo, si percepisce l'impegno che ha profuso in questa sua comunque apprezzabile opera prima. 

TRAMA

Siddhu è uno studente ripetente e svogliato. La madre lo tratta con durezza e preferisce interagire con Karthi, il giudizioso figlio minore. Siddhu si addolcisce solo con Shruti, la ragazza che ama. A mano a mano che la trama si snoda, la storia e i personaggi si approfondiscono, e vengono al pettine molti nodi che indurranno Siddhu ad allontanarsi dal suo ambiente e a commettere errori. 

RECENSIONI

The Hindu:

'Certain elements of Veyil are well-executed, but a dullness creeps in in between. Veyil can be quite a strange title for a film when there is hardly a ray of light in the life of its protagonist. But then, it could also be a reference to the harsh rays that drain the life out of plants, leaving them dry, and the earth parched. (...) Sarath [Menon] uses the material in multiple ways, to look at the internal friction within the family, (...) and his slow descent into criminality. The latter is one of the things that the film gets right. Just like Siddharth [il protagonista], the audience too might find it hard to identify the exact point where he takes the turn to the dark side, although finding the reasons for the same can be easier. It also goes with the nature of the script, which is vague in parts, leaving quite a few things unsaid and labouring needlessly over the things that are somewhat clear. (...) The script, even while focussing on Siddharth, gives almost equal importance and character to those around. (...) One of the downers for the film is a certain dullness to the proceedings, which cannot be explained away just by the kind of theme it is dealing with. Ironically, some of the darkest events in the film, especially the key event involving Siddharth’s brother and a mentally challenged relative of theirs, appear as the brightest spots, due to their execution. Veyil has some well-written, well-executed passages, one cannot but wish for some level of trimming and a bit more of coherence'.

S.R. Praveen, 25.02.22

Recensione integrale

Film Companion:

'The film's dream-quality makes Veyil both a difficult and a special film to experience. (...) This style of writing adds a layer of melancholy and an honesty to the retelling of what's essentially a balance-sheet of good deeds versus regrets. (...) It essentially wants to be one thing - a story of brotherhood. (...) Veyil (...) develops into a tragic coming of age story where there are no miraculous escape from reality. (...) Veyil remains a poignant and painful journey about growing up and growing apart'.

Vishal Menon, 01.03.22

Recensione integrale

Cinema Hindi: *** 1/2

Punto di forza: sceneggiatura introspettiva e articolata, atmosfera intima, Shane Nigam e il resto del cast.

Punto debole: a tratti la lentezza. Avrei preferito una durata minore.

SCHEDA DEL FILM

Cast:

* Shane Nigam - Siddhu

* Saed Imran - Karthi, fratello di Siddhu

* Merin Jose Pottackal - Merin, amico di Siddhu     

* Sreerekha - madre di Siddhu e Karthi

* Sona Olickal - Shruti, fidanzata di Siddhu

* Shine Tom Chacko - Jomy, parente di Shruti

Sceneggiatura e regia: Sarath Menon, al suo debutto

Colonna sonora: Pradeep Kumar, Jango, Pranavam Sasi. Freschissimo il brano The Hey Song.

Fotografia: Shaz Mohammed

Montaggio: Praveen Prabhakar

Lingua: malayalam

Traduzione del titolo: sunlight

Anno: 2022

Trailer

RASSEGNA STAMPA

* I am happy and satisfied with Shane Nigam's performance, Silpa Rajan, The Times of India, 13 luglio 2020:

'Films were always a fascinating experience for Sarath Menon, even during his Qatar days, where he was working as a sales manager. He was a member of the Doha Film Institute and a short film contest they conducted changed Menon’s life. He was so naive and hardly knew how to craft a script. But he put together what he knew and sent it to the contest. “Luckily my script was selected and they sent me to Uganda, at Mira Nair’s institute. I attended a workshop on screenwriting for a month and that’s how I started to take cinema seriously,” the debutant director said, describing his journey through the wonders of filmmaking. After arriving in Kerala, Sarath focused on his passion for movies and he has also been an assistant to Lijo Jose Pellissery in his movies ‘Angamaly Diaries’ and ‘Ee. Ma. Yau’. (...)

Speaking about the film, the filmmaker tells us that it is a family drama, which discusses a complex issue. “The movie takes the audience through two years in a person’s life. ‘Veyil’ talks about the politics of ‘point of view’ (perspectives). For instance, what I think is right, would be a much more personalized thought. What I believe is right might be wrong for someone else, and vice versa. We are trying to convey the same idea through the project. Shane Nigam is essaying the lead character Sidharth in the movie. The whole film travels through Shane’s character. For a person, his last year of academics and the coming year will be one of the crucial ones and the turning point of life. We will discuss this. Also, the movie will portray the bonds within a family, the relationship between siblings, the egos they have in between, and much more. ‘Veyil’ will also have some thrilling moments,” the director added explaining what the movie is about to offer. When asked about how was it directing Shane Nigam, one of the finest young talents in the industry, Sarath Menon said, “He has given his best. I am happy and satisfied with Shane Nigam’s performance.”

CURIOSITÀ

* Riferimenti al cinema indiano: Deepika Padukone, Om Shanti Om, Mohanlal, Suresh Gopi, Taapsee Pannu.

* Riferimenti all'Italia: un personaggio si chiama Stella.

* Film che trattano lo stesso tema: Kumbalangi Nights.

NARADAN

L'intenzione è lodevolissima: Naradan mostra senza mezzi termini l'opportunismo criminale e la dubbia professionalità di cui si macchia una certa frangia dell'informazione televisiva. In India, ci vuole coraggio a dirigere - e interpretare - un film come Naradan, infischiandosene del rischio di venire pubblicamente triturati da quei baroni dei media con la coda di paglia. 

Premesso ciò, Naradan non convince fino in fondo, soprattutto perché privo di una sceneggiatura coerente. La prima parte è una cronaca realistica della deprimente quotidianità di un gruppo di giornalisti. La seconda, più patinata, anticipata da un breve passaggio a dir poco paradossale, è il nocciolo della storia: l'ascesa di Chandraprakash, spregevole e amorale conduttore di programmi di informazione - qui Naradan sfodera l'artiglieria pesante, nessuna misericordia nei confronti del protagonista. A seguire una terza parte, non necessaria e con set inspiegabilmente spartani, nella quale la pellicola vira verso il genere giudiziario, con un finale consolatorio ma posticcio. 

Le tre parti sono slegate fra loro, mal combinate, la narrazione non è fluida, la regia manca di lucidità e di visione generale. Naradan non è una satira, e non è abbastanza incisivo per un tradizionale film di denuncia, sembra si collochi nel mezzo, ma questa incertezza ne mina la serietà. Naradan si limita ad illustrarci il ristretto ambiente dei media, tratteggia in modo superficiale la sfera interiore del protagonista, e trascura il contesto sociale e politico che favorisce il suo successo in termini di ascolti. L'involuzione di Chandraprakash risulta implausibile, le motivazioni deboli. 

Tovino Thomas è indaffarato nel dar vita alle diverse sfumature di Chandraprakash, con esiti non sempre precisi. In alcuni punti la sua interpretazione andava affilata. La sceneggiatura dispersiva non gli è stata d'aiuto. Anna Ben è un magnifico regalo offerto dall'industria in lingua malayalam al cinema indiano, un'adorabile giovane attrice baciata da un talento fresco e spontaneo.

TRAMA

Chandraprakash è il fiore all'occhiello di News Malayalam, il più importante canale televisivo di informazione in Kerala. Ma il suo entusiasmo si sta appannando, e i canali concorrenti ne traggono vantaggio per rosicchiare ascolti. Durante un breve congedo, Chandraprakash viene inaspettatamente sostituito da un collega più giovane, e decide quindi di dimettersi. Una cordata di investitori intenzionati ad accaparrarsi una fetta dei sostanziosi introiti pubblicitari, coinvolge Chandraprakash nel progetto di una nuova rete. Nasce così Narada News. E nasce - rinasce - CP, versione aggiornata e priva di scrupoli di Chandraprakash.

RECENSIONI

The Hindu:

'In Naradan, Aashiq Abu hardly ever employs satire. The script by Unni R. is as direct as it can get, drawing on recent happenings from the political and media landscape in the State as well as outside, to tell the compelling story of the rise of an unethical media anchor. (...) It is much to Tovino Thomas’s credit that he is ready to take up characters that are not likeable. (...) Chandraprakash is even repulsive at many points. His hectoring style of anchoring, cutting off panelists midway and misinterpreting their words to serve his purpose, is reminiscent of many contemporary anchors. It is the transformation in Chandraprakash’s character which becomes one of the high points of the film. (...) Aashiq Abu uses Naradan to invert the power equations of the newsroom studio, to put on trial the style of journalism promoted by sections of the visual media in recent years. The script points at the inherent voyeurism, the moral judgements and the conservative mindsets of the self-anointed judges in newsrooms. Though many of the scenes are set around tiring news debates and voyeuristic reporting, it makes for engaging drama in the film. Some parts, especially that of a rapper confronting the anchor in a live video, seems to have been drawn from happenings in the national media, just like a part of the anchor’s character. A good part of the hour leading up to the climax has been structured as a court-room drama, with some solid performances from Indrans, as the judge who is not easily swayed, and from Anna Ben, as a lawyer. Although the arguments justifying media gags in some cases can be misused by some elements, as has happened in recent years, the court arguments also raise valid questions on what constitutes public interest journalism. The two rap songs add to the general idea and spirit of the film. Naradan is a stinging critique of the rot that has taken over at least a section of the visual media, which revolves almost completely around ratings'.

S.R. Praveen, 03.03.22

Recensione integrale

Film Companion:

'It reveals an unsanitized and unromantic look at a profession that was either portrayed as too glamorous or too caricaturish. (...) The effort here is to give us an authentic tour of the newsroom and what the pressures of TRPs [Television Rating Point] do to its foot soldiers. (...) Naradan oscillates between realism and satire. (...) Despite the relevance of the themes discussed here, (...) one can feel the cracks in the storyline. It's like the film we see is the result of an earlier draft without the necessary rewrites to make it cohere. (...) Even the consciously OTT performances of both Tovino [Thomas] and Sharaf [U Dheen] (...) does not fit with either the realistic or the satirical pitch. And that's what becomes even more confusing when it eventually abandons the newsroom for the courtroom. (...) Why do the courtroom scenes look and feel so basic? (...) With this confusion in tone and texture and with incomplete characters (...) Naradan is a bit all over the place even though one agrees and values everything it wants to say. (...) Naradan lacks the subtlety to work either as a complex drama about a man's descent into darkness specifically or to be an expose of the media business in general'.

Vishal Menon, 04.03.22

Recensione integrale

Cinema Hindi: ***

Punto di forza: il soggetto (****), le intenzioni, l'audacia.

Punto debole: sceneggiatura poco focalizzata, incompleta.

SCHEDA DEL FILM

Cast:

* Tovino Thomas - Chandraprakash, giornalista televisivo

* Sharaf U Dheen - Pradeep, giornalista televisivo

* Anna Ben - Shakira, avvocatessa

* Indrans - giudice

Regia: Aashiq Abu

Sceneggiatura: Unni R.

Colonna sonora: Sekhar Menon, Fejo, Manchild

Lingua: malayalam

Traduzione del titolo: Aashiq Abu spiega: 'There are layers to Naradan from the Puranas. Firstly that he was the first messenger and secondly he was some kind of a troublemaker who cooked something between the news he carried'.

Anno: 2022

Trailer

RASSEGNA STAMPA

* Director Aashiq Abu and actor Tovino Thomas talk about their film Naradan, Jitesh Pillaai, Filmfare, 10 marzo 2022:

'The word Naradan is generally used for a mischief-maker. Is that the film all about?

Aashiq: There are layers to Naradan from the Puranas. Firstly that he was the first messenger and secondly he was some kind of a troublemaker who cooked something between the news he carried. Yes, some negative and some positive connotations are there for this Naradan.

Tovino: As Aashiq said when we hear the word Naradan we get two pictures, one of a troublemaker and one of a messenger who delivers news. Definitely a messenger, but one who doesn’t follow ethics, so yes a troublemaker!

Have you modelled yourself on any newsperson?

Tovino: The first thing we decided was not to take direct inspiration or imitate anyone because our character is fictional, our premise is fictional and the media channel we are showing in this movie is also fictional. We have taken references to be in that template so that when people watch him they feel that they are watching a newsreader. It’s a story and a fictional character but you can find relatable incidents. Besides talking about what’s happening behind the newsroom, the pressures a media person has and how they deal with competition from the other channels, there is a lot more in the film. (...)

Aashiq when you set out to write Naradan a story against a media backdrop and how people manage their TRPs and pump up the volume, was there anything else you wanted to say through this movie?

Aashiq: Initially I was just curious about the life of a television journalist who conducted a prime time debate and was actually a performer. I wanted to know after performing for one hour what his life was like when he got back home. I started getting curious about this character. I spoke to Unni who was one of the leading journalists when Kerala started the Malayalam news telecast. He had left his job and joined cinema. So I thought he was the man to know exactly what was happening behind the camera and in newsrooms. That was actually the trigger point. Then I started following the stories which were with Unni R. It was a very fast process to model this character Chandraprakash. (...)

Often an actor reveals his vulnerability to the director. Is it easier for you, Tovino, to reveal your vulnerability to Aashiq than to other directors?

Tovino: We have worked together and I know his working style so it's easy for me to reveal my vulnerability to him. Also, I am someone who is not ashamed that I am vulnerable. I am not perfect and I have a lot of imperfections I am working on. Initially, when one line of Naradan was narrated to me the concern I had was that being from Thrissur I speak very fast and so can omit a few words. But I could not take that liberty when I was doing this particular character. (...) My character in Naradan was that of a performer. I was concerned because I hadn’t done a character like that before and I knew I had to work a lot on my diction and other things. But when I mentioned it to Aashiq sir, he told me not to worry. From then on him and his writer Udiya kept on sending me references and giving me inputs on minor details about the character. Like I had to grow my nails a bit. I am a left-hander but in the movie, I am a right-hander. In real life, I move my right hand a lot and in this movie, I use my left hand a lot more. They knew this vulnerability and they knew I would try hard and work on it. By the time we started shooting it was no longer a concern. Then I kept on reading books loudly with proper diction. And Udiya always kept correcting. So with their help, I pushed my limits and I succeeded. 

Aashiq, (...) how much have your writers contributed to Naradan? (...)

Unni is a fast writer. He writes on a daily basis and it’s a routine. So usually he finishes the screenplay in a month. For this movie, he was working till the final output as he was constantly changing and correcting things. Also, this is the biggest dialogue movie I have ever directed. Everyone is talking to each other. It was a huge responsibility of the writer to be accurate with facts because we were talking on a subject related to the truth so the writing department had to be very careful. And I am giving Unni full credit for the screenplay. (...)

Pandemic has taught us uncertainty. Has that changed you as (...) an actor?

Tovino: For me, it was a much-needed break. From April 2016 (...) to 2019 June 30th, I was working continuously without a break. I did around 25 movies in those three years. So I got time to spend with my family. My wife was pregnant and I could sit with her for three months before the delivery and three months after the delivery and even change my kid’s diapers. I also got some ‘me’ time. When we are working we are part of the rat race and don’t get time to think when we don’t think or ask ourselves questions. During the lockdown, I could ask myself a lot of questions. I also got time to read. I like to read when I am the only person in the room! So I would be up till 4 in the morning and had the liberty to wake up around 1.30 or so. I relaxed because I knew everyone else in the world was sitting doing nothing. All this helped me evolve as a better human being and also as an actor because the experiences I had during the lockdown and after lockdown were reflected in my future movies. I consider that time as the turning point in my career and life. Workwise I wanted to do movies which gave me satisfaction and not just make money. The movies which I did after the lockdown (...) are very different from each other'.

CURIOSITÀ

* Il protagonista prende chiaramente spunto dal giornalista televisivo Arnab Goswami. A Mumbai, nel 2017, Goswami contribuisce alla fondazione di Republic TV, di cui oggi è proprietario della quasi totalità delle quote, nonché il volto più noto. In precedenza Goswami aveva lavorato per The Telegraph e per NDTV, ed era stato caporedattore di Times Now. Republic TV è un canale televisivo gratuito di informazione in lingua inglese, vicino agli ambienti della destra hindu nazionalista. Al canale in inglese si sono poi affiancati un canale in lingua hindi e uno in lingua bengali. Goswami e in generale Republic TV sono stati più volte accusati di faziosità, discriminazione nei confronti dei musulmani, manipolazione emotiva, sensazionalismo, diffusione di notizie false, incremento fraudolento dei dati di ascolto. Goswami è considerato dai suoi detrattori la sintesi di un giornalismo aggressivo, urlato, chiassoso, scandalistico e bigotto. Republic TV ha collezionato una serie di denunce per diffamazione e istigazione all'odio interreligioso. Fonte Wikipedia.

* Film che trattano lo stesso tema: Rann.

GANGUBAI KATHIAWADI

Il genere biografico di solito non mi entusiasma. Per quanto una vita possa essere stata straordinaria, la sua rappresentazione sullo schermo risulta ai miei occhi formulaica e fredda. Ma Gangubai Kathiawadi è una biografia in larga parte molto intimista. Con l'esclusione dell'ultima porzione del film, GK è un piccolo capolavoro che coniuga una storia coinvolgente, una sceneggiatura compatta, un ipnotico fluire narrativo, un comparto tecnico all'altezza del marchio di fabbrica del regista Sanjay Leela Bhansali. 

Alia Bhatt arricchisce il suo aspetto da eterna adolescente con un'iniezione di maturità davvero inaspettata, e offre un'interpretazione vulnerabile ma decisa, femminile con una punta di mascolinità. Bhansali tratta il suo personaggio con gli onori e gli oneri tradizionalmente riservati all'eroe. Alia sostiene con vigore la pellicola anche quando sceneggiatura e regia allentano la presa, quando la realtà biografica irrompe frantumando l'incantesimo dell'interiorizzazione della vicenda umana di Gangubai, estromettendo lo spettatore dal suo privato. L'empatia si infrange, il film perde calore. 

Bhansali ha sempre accordato ampio spazio alle sue splendide eroine, non sempre profondità. Con GK mette a fuoco l'ispirazione e si scopre audace: per la prima volta non vi sono protagonisti maschili - i ruoli ricoperti da Ajay Devgan e da Vijay Raaz sono microscopici -, Gangubai è una figura controversa e poco esemplare, il messaggio (anche) femminista. 

Sanjay Leela Bhansali ha consolidato negli anni uno stile personalissimo e riconoscibile, che non ha mai tradito, pur con esiti altalenanti. Il cinema di Bhansali è uno sfavillante universo parallelo nel quale si intuisce il regista vorrebbe trasferirsi. Un universo con connotazioni aristocratiche e volute oppiacee che annebbiano il senso della realtà. È perenne nostalgia di un sogno nel quale ogni dettaglio è studiato alla perfezione, e qualsiasi aspetto acquista nobiltà e bellezza. I set sono elaborate architetture, i corpi sculture, i tessuti tele pittoriche, i gesti coreografie, i dialoghi musica. 

GK è sontuoso quanto basta, privo di barocchismi, con colori crepuscolari per gli ambienti e prevalenza di bianco per i costumi. Visivamente magnifico. Soprattutto emozionante. Confesso: era dai tempi di Black che un lavoro di Bhansali non mi catturava così. 

TRAMA

Gangubai non ha avuto una vita facile. Venduta giovanissima ad un bordello, piega il destino a suo vantaggio con piglio battagliero. È intraprendente, sveglia e coraggiosa. Con decisione, sale tutti i gradini della scala sociale concessa dall'ambiente in cui vive. È anche generosa, è molto amata, e non esita a sfruttare l'affetto di cui è oggetto - o a compiere azioni illegali - per la sua carriera politica. Si batte per il riconoscimento dei diritti delle prostitute e per la loro tutela. Adora Dev Anand, ma è Nehru che accetta di incontrarla.

ASSOLUTAMENTE DA NON PERDERE

* Sono molte le sequenze significative. La mia preferita è una scena brevissima: Gangubai accoglie l'uomo che ama, e copre la fotografia di Dev Anand. Dettaglio delizioso.

LA BATTUTA MIGLIORE

* [Spoiler] Kimli è deceduta. Gangubai impartisce le istruzioni per predisporre la salma per le esequie, e pronuncia un'amara battuta che preferisco non riportare.

RECENSIONI

Mid-Day: ***

'An over-the-top dramatisation of an underworld, in the margins of Mumbai; built entirely inside a studio, mixed with measured melodrama, mujra [traduzione grossolana: danza di cortigiane], and music. This is Broadway-style, mass theatrical entertainment before a camera, in a way that Bhansali has consistently pulled off over two and half decades, regardless of the script. Most directors lose it along the way. As screenwriter, music composer, director, he continues to imbue this scale with a personal/auteur touch still. (...) I see no Indian filmmaker who does this genre with as much conviction, hence as convincingly. (...) You either go with the flow, or don’t. (...) This isn’t quite a “fem-jep” (female in jeopardy) flick, masquerading as feminism. It’s about an ambitious Gangubai, taking life by the horn, and driving it on a fancy car, wherever she likes. Of which I don’t know how much of it is accurate. The bigger issue with merging Bhansali/Bollywood fantasy with fact is that the treatment must allow as much time for the story-telling as well; tightness suffers - making this seem a movie, scene after scene after songs, that’s much longer than it should be. And yet, it’s the aesthetically choreographed sequences - every moment of it - that raise the bar'.

Mayank Shekhar, 25.02.22

Recensione integrale

Film Companion:

'Bhansali is not so much a builder of stories as a maker of moments. (...) Gangubai Kathiawadi has many such moments: each more lyrical than the next. (...) Are these pieces of pleasure enough to indulge a broken puzzle? The answer lies in the kind of story GK chooses to be. (...) Bhansali's uncomplicated spectacle is a tale of two halves. (...) The first half is intimate and specific, with (...) Ganga turning into (...) Gangubai through experiences and people rather than pre-written destiny. Characters (...) start to define Gangubai's evolution. These pieces are strung together not by a journey but a personality. (...) The film flows from one time to another with unfussy transitions, with a fluidity rarely seen in Bhansali's heavy-footed historicals. (...) The second half feels like another film altogether (...) almost as though GK is suddenly reminded that it is in fact a bland biographical drama. After a setup of emotional intelligence and curiosity, this is frustrating. The camera starts to revere Gangubai from a distance. (...) She becomes an ideological figure: someone who knows how and why she will be remembered in the future (...) not who she really is. (...) But [Alia] Bhatt's electrifying turn comes very close to vindicating the film's fractured puzzle of moments. (...) The subtext missing from the script can be found in how Bhatt tempers the hurt of her voice and eyes. (...) The casting did feel like a gamble. But everything that was supposed to be a fatal flaw - Bhatt's frightfully young face, diminutive frame, urban gait - becomes a triumph in Gangubai's performative armour'.  

Rahul Desai, 25.02.22

Recensione integrale

Cinema Hindi: *** 1/2

Punto di forza: Alia Bhatt, la magnificenza estetica (****).

Punto debole: la parte finale del film è meno coinvolgente. Inoltre avrei preferito un approfondimento del ruolo di Raziabai.

SCHEDA DEL FILM

Cast:

* Alia Bhatt - Gangubai

* Indira Tiwari - Kamli, prostituta e migliore amica di Gangubai

* Seema Pahwa - Sheela, tenutaria del bordello

* Shantanu Maheshwari - Afshan, sarto e amante di Gangubai

* Ajay Devgan - Rahim Lala, gangster 

* Vijay Raaz - Raziabai, rivale politica di Gangubai

* Huma Qureshi - visualizzazione del brano Shikayat

Regia: Sanjay Leela Bhansali

Sceneggiatura: Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Utkarshini Vashishtha

Colonna sonora: Sanjay Leela Bhansali. La colonna sonora è di quelle grandiosamente tradizionali come non ne ascoltavo da tempo.

Fotografia: Sudeep Chatterjee

Montaggio: Sanjay Leela Bhansali

Anno: 2022

Award:

* National Award: diversi premi, fra cui miglior attrice protagonista, miglior sceneggiatura non originale, migliori dialoghi e miglior montaggio (aggiornamento del 24 agosto 2023)

Trailer

RASSEGNA STAMPA (aggiornata al 20 agosto 2022)

* Alia Bhatt on Gangubai Kathiawadi and becoming 'The Sanjay Leela Bhansali heroine', Anupama Chopra, Film Companion, 12 febbraio 2022:

'I remember all those adjectives that he would use when he was describing [my character], they would never be without the opposites: 'strong but vulnerable, humorous but has anger and tension in her eyes: this but that.' There was always a 'but' to everything. (...) Even in the performance, he wanted two layers to come out. She's saying something, her eyes are saying something else. (...) Her body language is this, but she's actually feeling that. It was extremely challenging but also what I enjoyed the most. (...) 

Not everybody knows about Gangubai's story. (...) But what I enjoyed about it was that there was a point A, B and C. (...) She came to Bombay, (...) gave a speech, (...) met (...) Nehru. But what's interesting is (...) what made her get to those points. Why did she come to Bombay? She wanted to become a heroine. That helps you to carve the personality: was there a filminess in her? Was she a little dramatic or dreamy? (...)

He [Bhansali] draws out of you. He doesn't tell you what to do. He pushes you to find it. (...) He gives you adjectives and wants you to think about it and your body to start feeling it. (...) He likes the unpredictability of performing and creating as well. There are no rules. (...) He is looking for magic at every point. He wants it to hit it in the heart. I don't think there's anybody who is more interested in your ability and potential of really pushing. He is not satisfied, because if he knows that you have it, it will be push until you have really given it all'.

* Sanjay Leela Bhansali on how Alia Bhatt became his Gangubai Kathiawadi, Anupama Chopra, Film Companion, 2 marzo 2022:

'I didn’t want to take her [Alia Bhatt] there [Kamathipura] because somewhere, for her, as a character, when she goes there and sees the world for the first time, it should reflect on her face. I wanted her to explore. (...) She understood that I lived one lane away from Kamathipura, so for me, that world was something that I have absorbed for 30 years. I think we had a great chemistry. She understood exactly what I wanted. There was a little bit of discomfort that she faced on the first day, the first time she did a dialogue scene. She wasn’t understanding what I was trying to get in terms of the attitude because it was a very hard world. It was [about] a very hard, solid woman who speaks with an attitude. That’s how she controls the area. But after that first day, we never looked back. Then she was just flowing and feeling every bit of it.

Initially, when we would discuss the scenes, she would observe my tonality, attitude, what happens to my eyes. Besides that, I would make her participate, asking her about her take on a situation. Suddenly, she started contributing to how she wanted to do a scene, where she would want to do it. I cannot tell you how to do it; I’ll give you some text, I’ll give you the ideas, I’ll talk about stories from the past which has some relevance. Those are the things you give to an intelligent actor - a great actor - like her. When she started becoming Gangu completely, there was very little exchange. When you give an actor the freedom to think, to contribute, to become that person, because finally in front of the camera, it is her who was standing and saying the lines. It’s important that she contributes. That contribution is very valuable too. I improvise a lot, so after a point, she stopped memorizing the lines and play it my way. She never questioned it. If I said, ‘Alia, jump from here to there,’ she would jump with that conviction with which I would want her as an actor to. No questions asked. It was just her belief in the director and my belief in the actor because I know when she’ll jump, there’ll be something special that she will do to it. Every time I throw an ace at her, I’d get two aces thrown back at me. It was a great experience of working for 150 days with an actor who is just there, without the excess baggage of being a star. (...)

The whole idea was that a 16-year-old girl gets trapped into this business, discovers this sordid world and gets up and says, ‘No, I have a voice, I have my rights.’ I wanted that passion in the eyes. This girl [Bhatt] has very powerful eyes, there’s a certain amount of vocal power that she has when she explodes. There’s a scene in the film where she talks to her mother and explodes on the operator. Look at that. When she was preparing for that scene, she was sitting on a chair and I wanted a certain atmosphere. Suddenly, I saw some of my staff were laughing or giggling. I presume that they were laughing at me and I exploded. The whole atmosphere on the set became quiet. It was my way of making those vibes reach to her, of feeling the nerves, of calling the mother, of getting that anger filled and at what note it should explode. I have never told her [about this], even to date. As a director, I don’t like to give direct instructions to people because it limits the actor’s imagination. An actor like her should be given briefs of a certain way where you create what the audience has to feel, but how do you do it has to come from you. I feel that’s the kind of belief that I had in her. When she exploded on the phone and emoted, I said, “My choice was right.”

It took a lot of time for the people to [realize this]. When they saw her on the screen for the first time, that’s when they realized. I was having the last laugh. I believe that you have to look at an actor and say, “I can make you do this.” It is the job of the director to make you realize that, ‘Alia, you have so much potential. You can go global. You have that potential to make India proud. Leave those things that you’ve done, you have done very good films, but this is hardcore. This is a piece of my heart, of all the grime, grunge, humiliation and everything that I have witnessed in my life. I’m now going to let those demons flow out. Be a part of it’ - without having to say these words. She just went along with me and started discovering something about her. I saw this actor blossom. She found the full potential of what Alia Bhatt is all about'.

* How the sets of Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Gangubai Kathiawadi recreate 1950s' and ‘60s’ Bombay, Anita Horam, Architectural Digest India, 24 aprile 2022: 

'The art and production design in every Sanjay Leela Bhansali film is a whole mood in itself. Whatever the setting or the story, audiences have come to expect that signature look - dripping with rich detail and the maximal use of Indian textile, artwork, colour and texture. His latest, Gangubai Kathiawadi is no exception. Visually, it plays out almost like a painting come to life. But it goes a step further, in that this is probably his most personal work yet. (...) Till he was almost 30, Bhansali lived with his family just one street over from where he sets the film. His school route to and from took him past the brothels and all the characters who inhabited that world every single day. So while the film, its story, the architectural structures and key characters are based on historical facts, what he has done with the look and art design is a homage to some of his earliest childhood memories. The way he tells it, the lane was dotted with six (now derelict) theatre buildings (...) which formed a carousel of assorted impressions that he internalized. One such was the Art Deco design details he soaked in from those buildings, as well as that unique hand-painted movie poster art that began to be developed around Indian cinema in the 1920s. This was a kitschy, over the top way to get people into the cinemas that were made instantly recognizable by the images of enticing cleavages, vixen red lips, lurid colours, broad visible brush strokes and an almost 3D-style typography. (...) 

The other strand that runs through both the story and its cinematic representation is the idea that even a ruin can and must have dignity. Architecturally, Bhansali is obsessed with space. Or perhaps the lack of it when he was growing up. He admits that he often made up a parallel reality where he could literally push out the walls of their tiny family home to something larger, grander. This manifests in every film set he has ever had constructed. He is also deeply fascinated by the idea of beauty in distress. In this film, the production design team gives literal expression to these preoccupations, especially in the detailing of the brothel walls - peeling, faded, broken - as well as to all the elements and distressed textures in the rooms, which include artefacts, textiles and practical props like utensils that would have actually been used in his own home at the time. From a treatment and design perspective, the maker admits that he has chosen a romanticized expression of a tough neighbourhood, and a dark and often fearful time in his own formative years. Using his craft, he prefers to show his audiences an artistic interpretation rather than the oppressive reality, and in that process has his own cathartic moment that in a way helps set right the world his five-year-old self once inhabited'.

* Aila, Alia!, Mayank Shekhar, Mid-Day, 20 agosto 2022: 'With Gangubai, Bhatt reveals about Bhansali being the performative inspiration: “I took so much of Sir’s personality and put that into Gangubai’s character - the way he speaks, thinks, has a certain attitude. (...) Because it is in his head. Film is the director’s medium. And then it’s the written word. The actor has to collect all those things and place it in front of the camera”.'

Vedi anche Gangubai Kathiawadi al Berlin International Film Festival 2022. GK è stato proiettato in prima mondiale alla Berlinale 2022, alla presenza di Sanjay Leela Bhansali e di Alia Bhatt. Il testo include una rassegna stampa/video e una ricca photo gallery.

CURIOSITÀ

* La vera Ganga Harjeevandas scappa dalla casa dei suoi genitori, in Gujarat, in giovane età, per recarsi a Bombay, dove viene venduta al giro della prostituzione dal suo corteggiatore, Ramnik Lal. Diventa un'influente tenutaria a Kamathipura, il quartiere a luci rosse della città, ed intreccia legami con la malavita locale. Incontra Nehru per perorare la causa delle prostitute e migliorare le loro condizioni di vita. Fonte Wikipedia.

* Il saggio Mafia Queens of Mumbai. Stories of women from the ganglands, di S. Hussain Zaidi (con la collaborazione di Jane Borges), pubblicato nel 2011, racconta le vicende reali di tredici donne criminali. Un capitolo è dedicato a Ganga Harjeevandas. Secondo gli autori, Gangubai proviene da una famiglia di buon livello sociale e culturale, e desidera intraprendere la carriera cinematografica. A 16 anni, lei e il fidanzato Ramnik Lal, 28 anni, scappano a Bombay. I due si sposano, ma poco dopo Rumnik vende la moglie per mille rupie ad un bordello. In poco tempo Gangubai gestisce diversi bordelli. Incontra il gangster locale, Karim Lala, dopo essere stata aggredita dal malvivente Shaukat Khan Pathan. Lala le accorda il suo aiuto, e Gangubai lo considera un fratello. In seguito Pathan viene affrontato con violenza da Lala. Zaidi ha scritto anche Black Friday. The true story of the Bombay bomb blasts, da cui Anurag Kashyap ha tratto il film omonimo, e Dongri to Dubai. Six decades of the Mumbai mafia, da cui è stato tratto il film Shootout at Wadala. Fonte Wikipedia.

* Il dialogo scambiato da Gangubai e Afshan sulle varie tonalità di bianco riflette una conversazione reale avvenuta fra Bhansali e il costumista.

* Riferimenti al cinema indiano: Dev Anand, Madhubala.

* Film che trattano lo stesso tema: Rajkahini (bengali).