The way I saw Anand Gandhi’s Ship of Theseus is not how I generally watch films – in the producer’s office, on his computer, two weeks before the release, with a cat for company. It was an early morning show, and I was definitely not ready for the journey I made. The very first shot is so promising, you know that what you are about to embark upon is not going to be an ordinary journey. The ship, laden with paradoxes, questions, answers, doubts, and dilemmas, will surely force you to ponder. For many, this film might just be a novel life-changing experience.
Much has been written about the film since it started doing the festival circles in 2012. The international media, some of the inquisitive Indian press (who were bothered about an independent film which would not make it into the 100-crore club but still had reasons enough to be taken interest in), film critics, and cinephiles have been raving about SoT. The very avant-garde trailer, the interesting poster art, all made for a visual and intellectual treat that has been missing in Indian cinema for a while. And when Kiran Rao became a part of the project, one knew that this was a film one could trust. Even though there can be debate over Ms. Rao’s film making, her astute ability for selecting and encouraging talent is definitely unmatched. The woman has taste, heightened sensibilities, and an extremely intelligent eye. SoT became the film to watch out for in India.
I will state this upfront – No, this film is not for everybody. It will not be a massive hit or a blockbuster. Honestly, I do not think the director is vying for that either. While in a recent conversation with Anand he does talk about how escapism is mere exploitation and the audience should be trusted more (coming up on www.mansworldindia.com), I am personally less idealistic. If the majority of our cinema-going population really did not want the kind of regressive matter being churned out today, Salman Khan would have been out of business. So would have Akshay Kumar. And Sanjay Dutt. And Rohit Shetty. And new douchebag-in-the-block, Ajay Devgn. So, yes, while SoT might not enjoy a glittering future, it will definitely be remembered as one of those few independent films that actually delivered what it promised.
The Internet is a dicey thing. It is not difficult today to become a viral star. Garnering likes and views and comments and shares and tweets is not that much of a headache either. I was wary when SoT became a social media darling and wondered if this might just become another G**** (an obnoxious film by Quashik Mukherjee, touted as a ‘path breaking blah-blah’. The film was just bleh). Everybody was sharing the trailer, the sheer quirky quality of the scenes, the interesting cast, the captivating visuals – I hoped, for the film’s sake that it is as good as it promises to be.
For those who keep hamming that cinema has to entertain, I argue that it has to engage with enough interesting and provoking stimuli. A film has to remain with you. If it fails to make you think, make you discuss, fails to leave behind a part of itself with you, the film has not achieved the purpose of the art form. So, while mindless bullshit is not stimulating enough, continuous philosophical banter and verbose discussions is not the way to go either. SoT takes upon itself to discuss some very important and complicated dilemmas – sometimes they merge brilliantly with the fictional narrative while at others the film seems like the director’s monologue – rambling thoughts and debates that the characters carry out, disconnected from the framework of cinema itself. SoT weaves together three stories with a common finale. The first story is that of a blind photographer who battles with the gift of sight and its effects on her work. A monk deals with provoking questions of ethics and rights in the second, and a stockbroker deals with the realities of life amidst an organ-trafficking racket. I shall not take it upon myself to serve the spoilers – not that the fictional framework is that important anyway – but the questions that the film asks are so personal and insightful that at times you run the risk of introspection while the film is on. You begin placing yourself in the character’s shoes (or, bare feet) and begin trying to find solutions to their impending quandaries. It forces you to find out what life means to you, question identities and human rights, valuate emotions, evaluate notions of justice – all in the span of one film.
The Aida Al-Kashef starring story about the blind photographer is an absolute delight. The film captures the innocence and artistic stubbornness of the photographer to the hilt. She is an adorable character, free-thinking, confident, and with a mind of her own. The fight scene in the kitchen will win anybody over, as will her self-blindfolding after getting her sight back. Her sheer dedication towards producing art of her kind, what she sees in her head, is her sole goal in life. Aida does a fantastic job, balancing strength and a certain frailty which shines on screen. There are times when you just want to reach out and hold her hand, give her a little assurance…More film makers should exploit the talent hot bed that she is.
Sohum Shah’s piece is beautifully crafted, bringing forth a host of characters, well-written dialogue, and has the best plot of the three. The dilemmas presented entwine extremely well with the story, creating a winning piece. Sohum Shah, if he chooses his films wisely, will be an actor to look out for. He is a powerhouse of talent, and delivers dialogue with a natural ease rarely seen on the Indian screen today. The scene where he goes into a rant after helping his grandmother pee is exquisite acting. He can very easily become an Anurag Kashyap or Dibakar Banerjee actor. He already acts in their language.
While Neeraj Kabi’s story has the most expansive canvas, with some exceptionally enamouring visuals in the film, it falls behind the other two due to its verbosity and the inability of the message to merge with the narrative without the help of dialogue. The piece is heavy in conversation and has continuous repartee which, unlike the other two, fails to draw you in. It is funny, how the pieces that talk less engage more. Other than Neeraj Kabi’s extremely dedicated performance (including his Christian Bale-like weight loss for the film), the visuals are extremely engrossing. The scene where he saves the caterpillar, the shampoo test on the hare, the monks gathered on a rock by the sea, a line of monks walking under the rotating shadows of windmills, are picture perfect cinematography. When Neeraj Kabi’s character slowly peels the bed cloth off his bed sore, you are repulsed, and filled with wonder at the same moment at the details of the scene. Vinay Shukla, who plays Charvak fails to support Kabi and is the weakest performance in the film. His incessant banter, shot surprisingly in a documentary style, tends to bore. Why the director chose to use so much of oratorical dialogue in this piece is a mystery.
While the cinematography and the editing marry extremely well with Anand’s direction, the music seems to fall short. The cinematographer should definitely take a bow as much of what the film wants to say lies in the adept storytelling of the visuals. Anand Gandhi is at home with this film, and the fact that he has enjoyed every minute of making it, is visible. He has polished every rough edge to the best of his abilities and that is why Ship of Theseus shines bright. If you want to watch a man tell his story and share his ideas the way he wants to, this is the film to go for. For those who always conform to set rules, give this man and his film a chance.
Watch SoT for an enlightening evening, astounding visuals, and a heart of gold. Watch this space for follow up posts on my conversations with Anand and the cast of SoT or catch the stories on www.mansworldindia.com.
And here is the link to the film’s trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5xt0cKasDw
BEING HUMMUSEXUAL 