Beyond all Gravity

A film with two actors and then only one for almost half its running time should spell disaster. But Gravity defies movie-town logic for its choice of subject and its astonishing special effects.
 

This is not a sci-fi movie because this is not fiction, not in the sense of having an alien predator or an undersea-city or a future peopled by killer androids. Gravity is fiction to the extent of telling a non-real-life story but it is as real as real can get within the four borders of a sheet of white stretched taut in the black void between four walls.

If one must pigeonhole Gravity into a genre, then it’s at worst a ‘disaster’ movie, a popular Hollywood staple. What propels director-producer Alfonso Cuaron’s creation beyond clichés and into the cinematic exosphere is its SFX and atmospherics.

For you or I, who can’t afford a Virgin Galactic ride into space (still in the future), Gravity is the closest we will ever get to the deep, dark void. The cold, distant sunrise from way up above, the hulking canvas of Earth (don’t miss the reference to Ganges), and the black mystery beyond feel all too real. It’s strange, because how do we (the audience) know what it feels like in space. We don’t and yet, we do feel.

Gravity could have been even more real if it would have made us listen to the stultifying silence of space. An oversight, perhaps. But happily it doesn’t lessen the impact of the story, told entirely through the eyes of two space-walking astronauts, Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock). Equally at ease in comedy and drama, Bullock appears to always leave a lasting impression in dramatic roles. Clooney is the comic relief here.

The script, by Alfonso and son Jonas Cuaron, however, does deploy a number of clichés – especially that of the self-sacrificing hero and the all-conquering, all-American hero.

Why does the hero have to overcome all adversities all the time? Why can’t he (male as opposed to female) be shown to be scared stiff? Can’t he/she be shown fighting a losing battle, and perhaps leaving it to another – a Chinese, may be – to save their day?

But none of these disturbing questions pop up when Gravity is playing out in stark 3D, spreading its unique brand of cold horror around your heart, making you clench your fists and hold your breath, much the same way, I guess, Stone and Kowalski would have in the terrifying, endless void of outer space.

Gravity is a must-watch. Your time and money both will be well-spent contemplating the place of man in the vastness that is the universe, and the technological marvel that is Gravity.

Score: 9/10

A Not So Satisfying Lunch

It is difficult to review a film that has already been much written about and talked about, more so after it lost out in the race for the Indian Oscars entry to The Good Road.

So why would The Lunchbox have made a better bet for the Oscars than Good Road? Tough to say unless I watch Good Road, which is yet to release commercially. But a comparison is not the point of this review; the point is why is Lunchbox getting all the attention.

For the first time, in a long time, perhaps, has come a movie that is mounted simply, shot simply, and most important, told simply. This is not a film that will shake you up; you won’t go home emotionally wrought, or abusive at the waste of your time. But you won’t leave indifferent either.

It works almost like that breed of movies that Indian filmmakers no longer seem to make; like a Sari Paranjape film peopled with somewhat quirky but very identifiable middle-class characters. Who makes movies about the middle class nowadays?

Like Paranjape’s films, the humour is a constant and uplifting presence in Ritesh Batra’s debut feature film. Lunchbox wouldn’t have been half the movie it is without the wit.

Lunchbox is a simple tale of simple people, simply told, without any camera flourish, arresting music or even any dramatic (as in vivid) moments. These are its very strengths, and yet somewhere in there lie the film’s shortfall. I wish the young wife Ila (played by Nimrat Kaur) had confronted or tried to confront her indifferent husband Rajiv (Nakul Vaid). I wish Ila had exchanged some angry notes with her elderly well-wisher Saajan Fernandes (Irrfan Khan). A little outburst wouldn’t have been out of place.

Another presupposed premise of Lunchbox is its use of the old fashioned letter in the age of cellphone/emails (mentioned by the character Shaikh, played by Nawazuddin Siddiqi). One can’t help but wonder why Saajan and Ila couldn’t exchange mobile numbers. And the film’s very pivot is a blunder by the very efficient Dabbawallahs of Mumbai – a sacrilege when it comes to the time-tested and well-oiled machinery that the food deliverers operate.

None of this, however, takes away from the delightful spread the Lunchbox is. Foremost is Nimrat, the acting discovery of the decade. For an actor we knew better as the Cadbury Dairy Milk Silk model who does the sweet and sexy lick-lick, Nimrat is the star (don’t read the Bollywood meaning) around which planet Irrfan and satellite Nawazuddin rotate. Any actor who can emote the way she does in the numerous full-face close-ups (with the camera inches away from the face) can’t but be extraordinary. I hope to see Nimrat a lot more in the coming days.

Irrfan is just right as the widowed and lonely accountant Mr Fernandes. As his putative successor Shaikh, Nawazuddin is a delight to watch. His role recalls his performance in Dibakar Banerjee’s film from Bombay Talkies.

More striking perhaps is the soundtrack (music by Max Richter). The Mumbai suburban train’s clattering rhythm has been used almost like background music. The humorous use of the song, Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai, from the hit movie Saajan (note the parallel?) is another delight. And the constant refrain of the Dabbawallahs’ song is a master touch.

 
If typical Bollywood fare is not your idea of satisfying entertainment, then The Lunchbox is a movie worth your time. It deserves an 8 on 10. Do watch it.