arnab_dasswayam

Parama, the Bengali word means a lot: the great, the best, the original and beyond everything in femininity. In traditional sense a lady identified with the best of the qualities is Parama. The film uncovers the ruthless confinements of gender in traditional patriarchal social setting. In the name of tradition an honest and helpless lady Parama is compelled to pass through the painful experience, though she reaches a great private realization. The articulate narrative may also be (re)viewed as a critical discourse on an ethical emancipation of a particular individual, of gender identity and also of the concerned society from within. On doing so the film effectively questions the orthodoxy, insensible norms and redefines (ab)normality.

Parama, the central character of the film--greatly represented by the actress Raakhi Gulzar-- is a common, sincerely devoted, housewife in an urban, affluent, middle-class, joint family living traditionally in a third world metropolis. Parama looks bright, yet indecisive and unmindful in her lonely moments. The film authentically portrays the stereotypical life of Parama, whose sacrifices of individual potential and desire for the sake of family belong to the ideal traditions of the society. Nothing would have been wrong with the smooth life of innocent Parama and her relatives unless much younger Rahul would have started to feel for her. Even the screenplay takes a new turn after the arrival of Rahul. The close shots become more frequent. Introvert Parama emerges prominent and sensitive among diverse members of the large family.

Bengalee in origin an American photographer Rahul comes to Parama's family in Kolkata for recording the lineage tradition of celebrating the largest sacred Bengali festival. Parama-sakti, the central deity is the most sacred local goddess. Almost as a sequel of it Rahul chooses Parama to feature an ideal Bengalee housewife. In featuring her Rahul also accompanies Parama to a nostalgic and unconventional journey to her beloved past in Kolkata. The movements of camera, the uses of long shot and the variation of light significantly match the contexts. A viewer, now, might realize the success of Aparna Sen in transforming the mere non-human elements into characters, which authentically enhance the depths of the contexts. An old mansion, a room in an attic, the traditional utensils, the corners of an old city, a few plants etc. appear in those physical details, which suggest their own biographies and silent roles to create an interactive background in the play. In such free play memory is supposed to get a new life.

The freedom of desired commemoration, a rebuilding of the private identity as well helps a different Parama coming out in the fullest of her grace. She recovers her vision about some of her unanswered quarries of the past and crosses the limits of present social norms. She enters into a different present with his (ab)normal friend Rahul. The consequence of the exposure of her secret private identity takes its own "traditional" course of public responses. Parama is socially exiled and made "meaningless". After experiencing prolonged trauma Parama moves beyond the fear of death. She recovers her honest feelings, which reject either to find out any guilt for loosing her "prestigious" roles or to regain the same. She reaches a new life. Two representations have their real and metaphorical support to the recovery of Parama: the desperate desire for freedom of her "abnormal" aunt, who was confined in a remote room and her another bold friend, who infrequently appears only to respond to the felt problems of Parama. The narration concludes when in the wonderful, soft light of afternoon the camera zooms in the Rahul's gift of a living plant--the name of which beloved plant Parama forgot to remember after childhood.

The screenplay, the cinematography, the casting, the editing and above all the direction are fascinating. Only Mukul Sharma, as Rahul is oddly stiff in that sensitive masculine role. The critics also recognize the popular regional blockbuster as a genuinely easy and outstandingly artistic treatment of the theme, which transcends the boundary of its particular narrative. In historical context of Indian cinema Aparna Sen remains a pioneer in addressing the urban gender situations with such a different and general appeal.

That makes the viewers expect an exciting vision from the work of Rituparno Ghosh might have its first strongest presence in Dahan, which means burn. On a regional cultural level of India the massive blockbuster brings somewhat new approaches to narrative, screenplay, nature of theme, cinematography etc. and achieves a few awards.

The parallel narratives of three separate, apparently happy circles of relationships living in the same Indian megalopolis are brought in a matrix of (non)interaction, in connection of a brutal incidence of molesting a happy housewife Romita. It dramatically exposes the absence of dignity in the love relation of three young female characters, each of whom represents the center of each circle. The characters are made sufficiently distinct, and also the circles. Only the net effect of crude patriarchic tradition is similarly consequent upon the misery and utter loneliness of each young urban lady coming of different social micro-cosms. The early warmth of love is transformed into spreading burns of relations.

From the beginning of the film, the soliloquy of an urban female subject Romita behind the sensitive foreground of some delicate visuals of her daily domestic experience increases the depth of feeling of an introverted and helpless gender position. The viewers are also supposed to identify with the honest, self-seeking subject positions of camera.

Romita, an educated, sensitive housewife undergoing a short happy life of an arranged marriage is disillusioned about it. Jhinuk, a highly courageous teacher experiences a shocking misuse of her prolonged and profound love relation. A family enforces another girl to marry an anonymous and ultimately distasteful man only due to his high social status. All the central female characters come to encounter the subversion of their earlier beliefs, lose hope for the relations and feel to defy any blind submission to 'normal' tradition.

One would sense the operation of one grand humanitarian perspective, which finally succeeds to embrace the parallel narratives. At the end of the film the tragic soliloquy of Romita is relevantly superimposed on the actions of two other ladies. The grand perspective does not, however, reasonably qualify the conditions of other major female characters in the film. One might also question some drab precision in introducing the parental characters, except the grandmother of Jhinuk. Only the enlightenment of Jhinuk's old grandmother, who lives a life of a recluse, fails to give sufficient underpinnings to the process of growing burns--meaning Dahan-- in the personal lives of three young ladies. Moreover, one might seek clarification about why the good males either passively support the wrong system or remain helplessly inactive, while almost all the good female characters actively and passively fight with the system. The skill of the director lies in making such overt populism highly accepted by the spectators, males included.

The simple narration and fast screenplay are provided with certain critical turns, which reliably offer terrible wrench of gradually shocking consequences in all the parallel narratives. In framing the sequences the meticulousness of the director effectively draws the viewers close to nuance of the contexts.

All the actors and actresses have made justice to the characters. Although Indrani Haldar as Jhinuk and Rituparna Sengupta as Romita deserve special mention, the director's success of using a number of casts in the intricate sequences attracts very favorable response of the spectators. Let Rituparno Ghosh be more successful in refining his distinct genius and exceptional sensitiveness in his future directorial career.

A newly married professor implements an amusing plan for getting introduced with the family of his elder brother-in-law under false pretense. It is approved by his wife and actively supported by a few friends. The couple doubly enjoys the secrecy. They continue the whole plan of joking tricks until it becomes enough. Otherwise, they enjoy the desperate love relation in a climate of adventurous hiding.

A prolonged play of secret humor--the broad connotative meaning of the title-- does not lose its relish due to the compact screenplay, the excellent performances of the casts, proper editing, wonderful music by Sachin Deb Barman and a few other supportive constituents of the film. Though the social composition of the characters, the social nature of turns and twists of the sequences focus on the educated urban Indian middle class, the lucid narrative seems to communicate a stable flow of comedian pleasure to all viewers. The final revelation of the true identities among the characters is accelerated because of the maturity of a new love relation. The narrative seems to challenge softly some insensible social norms. It also expresses its deep conviction about love and honesty of individuals and obviously its trust on the creative capacity of intelligent and humorous individual.

Any regular Indian film lover would enjoy the nice acting of at least four film stars--Dharmendra, Sharmila Tagore, Amitabh Bachchan and Jaya Bhaduri-- in simple social images and appreciate director Hrishikesh Mukherjee for another successful experiment. The film makes the spectator reminiscent of the genre, which rarely used the very close and the very long shots and rapid cuts. In spite of a theatrical design of the screenplay it could provide the actors and the actresses with the greater scope of establishing their performing talents. The use of bright light and sustained delight of the romantic characters in the family drama--initiated by an unconventionally sensitive, urban, academic personality--makes the film a bright entertainment.