Il destino nel nome - The Namesake

This film is everything a good movie is supposed to be: diverting and credible. You are left in no doubt as to the integrity of the characters in their respective roles. The movie commences with Ashima, a young girl in India (played by intoxicating Tabu), introduced to a prospective husband, Ashoke. She decides she likes him because before entering the room to see him for the first time she sees his Western wingtiped shoes outside the door and decides he must be an interesting person. He is further endeared to her (and us) when she is asked to recite a beloved sample of English verse and he smiles at her composure and suppressed perturbation when interrupted by his pedantic father. She is married to this engineer and taken to the U.S. to live in New York, and slowly begins to adapt. The movie follows her for 25 years as she sees her two children become Americans and face their own (and in the case of one, very poignant) issues.

Loneliness, joy, tribe, custom, and life's relentless call for adaptation are major themes, and they unfold beautifully. Perhaps its most understated point is that none of the good would have come to pass but for the success of the arranged marriage between Ashoke and Ashima, i.e., that this wonderful young woman had the good fortune to link up with the kind and loving Ashoke. It is the success of the parents' marriage that makes everything possible. As a Westerner unfamiliar with the concept of arranged unions I shivered at the thought of what could have happened if Ashoke had not been such a decent man and loving husband and father.

This is a wonderful film.

Meticulously observed and wonderfully heartfelt, this time-spanning 2007 family dramedy represents a return to form for director Mira Nair, who faltered somewhat with 2004's elaborate "Vanity Fair". This one is also a literary adaptation but this time from a contemporary best-seller by Jhumpa Lahiri, who wrote an emotionally drawn story about first generation Bengali immigrants to the United States and their U.S.-born children. It's an intricate book full of careful nuances, and Nair, along with screenwriter Sooni Taraporevala, captures most of them in a most loving manner. The story speaks fluently to the universal struggle to extricate ourselves from the obligation of family and a perceived enslavement to the past. Nair and Taraporevala manage to transcend the necessarily episodic nature of the novel to make it an involving journey toward self-acceptance.

The film initially focuses on Ashoke Ganguli and his arranged marriage to Ashima, a classically trained singer. The young couple move from Calcutta in 1977 to Queens in order for him to pursue his career as an electrical engineer. The adjustment is difficult, especially for Ashima in assimilating into the often cold U.S. culture, and these quiet scenes show a keen eye for subtle observation. They quickly have two children in succession, son Gogol and daughter Sonia. Gogol's name is the key plot point as he was inadvertently after Ashoke's favorite writer, Nikholai Gogol, and this is revealed to have greater significance as the story unfolds. Eventually, the film switches the perspective to Gogol's as he grows up, changes his name to Nikhil and starts his life as a yuppie architect in Manhattan.

At the same, the film does not abandon Ashoke and Ashima as they remain significant figures in shaping Gogol's destiny, especially as the impact of a tragic turn brings unexpected changes. The cathartic aspect of these scenes is what makes the film powerful. Moreover, with her film-making experience in her native India and the U.S., Nair brings a seamless fluency to both locales. The movie falters a bit toward the end when it starts to ramble and feel pat, but the story's old world gravitas rescues it just in time. Beforehand I was convinced Kal Penn would be the spoiler in this film, but he gives a sharp, dedicated performance as Gogol. Poised to be taken seriously as an actor even amid his White Castle and Van Wilder movies, he seems a bit exaggerated only in the early teenage scenes which recall those other movies.

However, it is the superb work of Irfan Khan and Tabu as his parents that make the film soar. Both bring a level of assurance and compassion that ground the film completely, especially Tabu who makes the seemingly modest character arc of Ashima really striking. Playing yet another variation of the spoiled American girl, Jacinda Barrett again proves how fearless an actress she can be in exposing the vanity and ignorance of Maxine, Gogol's first serious girlfriend. As Moushumi, the Bengali girl who comes with the family's seal of approval, Zuleikha Robinson has a ripe presence to match her character's aspiring worldliness. Cinematographer Frederick Elmes and production designer Stephanie Carroll provide masterful work in capturing the diverse flavors of the different locales. This film is for anyone who has struggled to forge his or her own identity only to find the need to embrace the past, especially those of us who have parents who displayed the courage to move from their native lands.

As a fellow Bengali and Jhumpa Lahiri fan, I had low expectations for a movie adaptation of her poignant novel (though I think The Interpreter of Maladies was better written). However, I was pleasantly surprised when I finally saw the movie at today's NY Times Arts and Leisure Weekend screening. The movie addresses all issues with care, and makes a non-Bengali audience understand the nuances of Bengali culture. The movie captures the hustle and bustle of India, sets the tone of the movie from the very first scene, and, overall, is heartwarming and true. It is humorous at all the right points, and the transition from a loud, vibrant and colorful life to a lonely, cold, and snow-white New York is breathtaking. You can feel Tabu's (Ashima's) loneliness. Jhumpa Lahiri's cameo is well-appreciated, though many in the audience did not catch it. The movie is respectful of Indian culture and uses small instances as canvases for large messages. Everyone is well-cast. Kal Penn shows himself to be capable of more difficult roles than the college-boy stereotype. Tabu and Irrfan Khan do not disappoint, since they are some of the highest-esteemed actors in India today. I felt like going back to Calcutta during all the Indian scenes. Starting the opening credits with the characters of the actors' names replaced with American characters was witty. "Everyday has been a gift, Gogol," Irrfan Khan (Ashok) tells Kal Penn (Gogol) in the movie, but truly, The Namesake is a wonderful gift for its audience, especially since I saw this movie 5 days before my birthday.

In 2003 days after its publication, I could hardly put down Pulitzer-winning Jhumpa Lahiri's novel "The Namesake". Lahiri was born in London to Bengali immigrants, raised in Rhode Island, and now lives in Brooklyn.

I was therefore excited when I heard that Mira Nair would be directing a film based on the novel. Readers may be familiar with Nair's films, including "Monsoon Wedding" (2001), "Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love" (1996), "Mississippi Masala" (1991), and Oscar-nominated "Salaam Bombay!" (1988); she is also in pre-production on a crime drama, "Shantaram", due in 2008.

Mumbai-based graduate of Harvard (where she met Nair) Sooni Taraporevala wrote the screenplay, as she also did on "Mississippi Masala" and "Salaam Bombay!" (incidentally, she is apparently directing her first film, based on her own screenplay, due to be released this spring). I don't know why, but the setting of the film version of the story is changed from Boston to New York and moved about a decade forward.

The story is that of the Gangulis - Ashoke (Irfan Khan) and wife Ashima (Tabu), Kolkata (Calcutta) immigrants to the U.S. in the early 1960s (1970s in the film), their son Gogol (Kal Penn), and his younger sister Sonali/Sonia (Sahira Nair). As a bachelor in India, Ashoke suffers in a train wreck, but his life is saved because, instead of sleeping on the nighttime journey, he had been reading "The Overcoat" by Russian writer Nikolai Gogol.

When Ashoke and Ashima's first child is born, they are surprised that they cannot leave the hospital without naming him; they prefer to wait for the great-grandmother's suggestion. The name of the Russian writer occurs to Ashoke, and he assigns "pet name" Gogol. The "good name" that the great-grandmother mailed never arrives, so the name Gogol sticks. As the boy grows, his name bothers him; it is neither Indian nor American, nor even a first name. He legally changes his name at college to "Nikhil".

The story follows Gogol/Nikhil as he goes to Yale University, is inspired to be an architect on a family trip to India when they visit the Taj Mahal, goes to graduate school and on to a job in New York City, and experiences several relationships. Wittingly or not, he follows the advice to "play the field" but to reserve marriage for a woman of Bengali origin.

How do the US-born children relate to India? Where is home for the parents and how do they stay in touch and perform their duties while geographically separated from their extended family? "The Namesake" is a story of the power of a name and of family; the immigrant experience; the search for love, context, and identity.

I enjoyed the film but, as often is the case, I found it to fall short of the book, whose power made me an instant fan of Lahiri's (watch for a cameo appearance by her in the film as Aunt Jhumpa). Armchair criticism is easy, and perhaps more meaningful insight is gained by asking if the medium is effectively used to convey the story's ethos.

The answer is a gentle "yes". One of Lahiri's strengths is attention to detail revealed in a matter-of-fact style that doesn't belabor the obvious. But of course the film cannot fairly be expected to reveal all of the original's subplots, such as Gogol's first relationship with his college sweetheart Ruth, or the myriad details beautifully presented in the book surrounding multicultural birthday celebrations, for example.

The film effectively contrasts the chaotic vibrancy of Kolkata with the much more restrained, anonymous big city life of the States through foundational scenes of bridges – the Howrah Bridge over the Hooghly River and Manhattan's 59th Street Bridge. In New York, we can see the business of modern city life rendered mute through a small apartment's glass windows; in India, no such respite from daily life is readily found. Another effective motif is the recurrence of the "Travelogues" exhibit at JFK Airport, reminding us through changing holographic images about the transition in space and culture that the Gangulis experience traveling between America and India.

There are some particularly well composed, emotive scenes, such as the timidly uncertain wave goodbye of Ashima to Ashoke on their first morning in the New World when he leaves on dismal snowy streets for work. I wouldn't, however, characterize the film as a whole as having consistently memorable cinematography, though it is rather effectively subtly understated and helps the story's progress.

The soundtrack could have been more appealing. Perhaps I was too focused on fidelity to the book which of course can simply be an irrelevant distraction, but I didn't relate to the music of high school student Gogol as characteristic of either the late 1970s or 1980s. Strictly speaking, the JFK exhibit was installed in 2000, which is inconsistent in fact and technology with most of the trips that the Ganguli family makes through the airport starting in the 1970s.

All that said, Mira Nair has made a sensitive, touching, and interesting film that triggers an authentic collection of emotions from joy to despair, with dashes of convincingly real everyday humor and chance. I was happy to see in the closing credits two of the three best known Bengali filmmakers mentioned, "For RITWIK GHATAK and SATYAJIT RAY, gurus of cinema with love and salaams"; only Mrinal Sen is missing.

I recommend both the film (expected to be released on March 9) and, especially, the book for immigrants and their friends, as well as to anybody who has felt significant loss, detachment, or uncertain change in their life. It is a story that is remarkable in its subtle depiction of the flip sides of the coin of history and promise.

(I saw the film at a pre-release screening on February 16, 2007 in Cary, NC USA. My review is a version of one that I am publishing in the forthcoming March issue of "Saathee Magazine".)

*Minor Spoilers*

I have wanted to watch this movie from the very beginning, but never actually got around to it, and now, after watching this last night, I wish I had watched it earlier. But better late than never.

The film starts with Ashoke Ganguli, (Irrfan Khan) a bookworm, marrying Ashima (Tabu), a trained classical singer. The two then move from Calcutta, East India to Queens, New York; essential as Ashoke must continue with his engineering career. The change is difficult for both, especially Ashima, and she strives to adjust to her new life and the new culture she is now living in. Soon after the couple have two children, Sonia (Sahira Nair), and Gogol (Kal Penn). Gogol was named after Ashoke's favourite author Nicholai Gogol, and we learn that the name means a lot as the film progresses. The film then shifts perspective to Gogol's life. We see Gogol as a teenager, his battles with his name, neither Indian or American, and the ridicule he suffers as an adolescent. We then see Gogol pursuing his career as an Manhattan-based urban architect, and his personal struggle to find his own identity without letting go of his inherited background.

The Namesake deals with loss, life, relationships and the main characters evoke a collection of emotions which vary from gaiety to misery, pain to love. We get a look into cultural clashes, traditional values versus Americanized, modern thinking. But I found the The Namesake is not a nationality war, but a mature and understanding tale, full of tolerance and experience. And just watching the movie, I was given an insight of what many people, including even my parents, must have been through. It was extremely moving.

The performances of the main characters - the Ganguli family, have been some of the most powerful performances for me to watch on screen. Irrfan Khan and Tabu, two of the finest actors in Indian Cinema, perfected their roles and brought life into their characters. They were, for me, the finest performances, the REAL stars. They also had a fantastic chemistry, which was subtle and pure. Khan was outstanding as Ashoke, this is the first movie of his I have watched, and I now see what makes him such a admirable, first-rate actor. Tabu was also brilliant. Her performance as Ashima was so realistic to me. I saw in her what I see in my grandmother, devotion, sincerity, and most of all, acceptance. I was endeared to her character instantly - "Ashima means without borders, limitless". A particularly memorable scene would be her and Ashoke waving goodbye to their family in Calcutta, a moment that had me spellbound at the reality of the scene. Kal Penn was extraordinary as Gogol. Being an Indian myself, also one not living in my homeland, I could identify with Gogol a lot. His performance was full of sensitivity and emotion and it really came through to me. We see his growth as a rebellious graduate to a fine young man, and I was not expecting this from Kal Penn at all, as his filmography is full of stereotypical, comical roles, but he proved me wrong.

Mira Nair's direction of this movie is a blessing. I thought it was miraculous of her to fit an entire 2 generations and 3 decades in two hours. And the pace of which she did it with is beautifully done. Her cast choice was great, and I found The Namesake to have a certain class, a certain sensibility to it. Her depiction of Calcutta and New York was one of the key points in the film, and I loved the way she made them both so real. She made a bustling, colourful Calcutta, and a dull, raging New York so genuine. They were both so similar, but again so different.

"We all came out of Gogol's Overcoat".