/>
Starring Urmila Matondkar, Sanjay Suri, Juhi Chawla, Rehaan Engineer, Jimmy Shergill
Directed by Onir
Rating: ***
Funny, this thing called life. It never fails to take you by surprise. Onir's chamber piece, telescoping five
intertwined lives in a lethal yet lyrical passion-play is an original slice of art.
The voice of Onir's reason is not encumbent on conventions of Indian cinema. Rather, this courageous
filmmaker forges ahead with much the same convictions that manoeuvred his vision in that elegiac
post-card from the edge of the conscience called My Brother Nikhil.
The film opens and closes in a pub where the first of the many passionate encounters between the
restless violent and dommed characters looking for a place to rest their uncertain hearts, occur.
When after years abroad Nikhil (Suri) walks into the crowded place of pleasure his life changes. He meets
the mercurial Anamika (Matondkar) who teases flirts and reduces Nikhil to a lifetime of slavery.
The passion underlining Nikhil's undying love for Anamika also purports to underline the theme's spectral
content. But the swelling emotions don't always make it into the frames.
We often feel rather than
see the acutely pained quintet of characters reaching out to one another across an immense gulf of pride
and hurt.
All the characters are in one way or another linked with one another. Even the men Nikhil and Rahul
(Shergill) share complex, ambiguous relationships.
In one notable moment of tormented confession Nikhil tears off his shirt in front of the paraplegic Rahul and
confesses he was raped in jail.
But the crime for which Nikhil went to jail is deflected to another even darker character, the spouse-beating
Steve (Rehaan Engineer) whose heartbreakingly fragile wife Ira (Chawla) wants to leave him but can only be
liberated in death. ("Till Death Do Us Part").
Guilt runs through the criss-cross of wounded relationships in this film of unstated recriminations.
Even the ostensibly free-willed Anamika opts for compassion (the crippled Rahul) over passion (the
incarcerated Nikhil). She silently suffers Rahul's bitter taunts, just like Preity Zinta in Karan Johar's Kabhie
Alvidaa Na Kehna, though the relationship here is done in far darker tones.
One of the more absorbing side-shows in this drama of muted feelings is the dark undertones that are
applied to every character's conscience. None of the five protagonists is a happy person. None of them
finds solace comfort, let alone love, in his or partner. They all seem to be driven more by desire per se than
its fruition.
We often wonder what these characters would do if they actually found love! So driven are they by the
search for love that they've forgotten where they're heading.
The tone gets a shade darker with every sequence. In the later scenes Nikhil becomes a stalker in
Anamika's life (even doing a kind of bizarre pantomine of a 'b' grade Hollywood slasher movie by describing
every move of his object of desire on the phone).
The distinctly Shakespearean finale leaves three of the five protagonists dead.
We finally see Anamika and Rahul looking pensively into the great wide open. The contrast between
human desire and Nature is quaintly created in the end. But we never see the characters from
close-up.
In their arching self-pity they all seem to be replicas of modern martyrs rather than those
pragmatic metro-centric creatures who treat the man-woman relationship as a means of keeping tabs on
their heats and libidos rather than the conscience.
The swelling of a Shakespearean passion for Anamika in Nikhil's soul needed to be mapped more
meticulously. Tragically the narrative is as restless as the characters. The quiet more thoughtful moments
mostly emanated from Juhi.
You suspect the tranquility around this battered character comes
more from the actress than the editor (Irene Dhar Malik) who cuts across these disembodied lives with
ruthless celerity.
Sachin Krishn's camera captures the conflicts of the characters in striking silhouettes and dark contours.
The hints and whispers created through the lens goes a long way in detailing the inner world of the
pain-lashed characters.
All five actors penetrate the heart of their characters. Urmila has never looked more tranquil in her torment,
and Juhi uses her ability to portray hurt and guilt with minimum effort. Among the male actor Sanjay Suri's
eyes follow the course of his character's destiny with pained transparency.
But finally we know little about them...or their motivations. Conceptualized completely from the outside the
people who house Onir's second film are driven down to damnation by their own desire. Their voyage into
disillusionment has some wonderful interludes of instrospection.
Check out Suri's reunion with
Urmila in the pub called Anti-Clockwork where they first met....or the sequence where Jimmy tells Urmila
he can't make love to her.
To make love and to love, the physical and spiritual aspects of human passion propel the people in Bas Ek
Pal to a rather macabre nemesis.
Starting off as an authentic take on urbane mores (the pub shoot-out where Rahul loses his legs and Nikhil
his everything, echoes the Jessica Lal incident) the narrative gets progressively Shakespearean in tone.
The film is shot mostly in the night and towards the end, in the lashing rains to create an aura of doom and
pain.
Bas Ek Pal is an interesting though flawed study of gender equations in a competitive society where
feelings are casualties of ambitions.
....And ambition not only at work-places. The rivalry in the bedroom can be even more cut-throat. Onir knows.
Thursday, September 14, 2006 11:28 IST
Movie:
Bas Ek Pal
Reviewed by:
Subhash K Jha
on
and Rated: