Anurag Minus Verma's Blog, page 2

July 8, 2019

A seriously dull serious film about the serious issue

A seriously dull serious film about the serious issue

One defense which we mostly hear about any ‘serious’ film is that at least it is better than regular Bollywood crap. Many nauseated by the guilt of consuming Salman or Varun Dhawan films find some level of solace in ‘meaningful cinema.’ Article 15 is termed as one such film. Even critics tend to be more lenient with films which have a moral shield to it. Often ignoring the fact that hardcore cash-driven Bollywood industry is no NGO and every film has a special eye on the market and fame. Disliking the film sometimes is thought as disliking the cause the film ascribes to. This is also the reason that choosing disability has been one of the important character traits, not because of Bollywood’s special sympathy or activism to the cause but because disability as a narrative tool is very useful to gain instant audience sympathy. In Hindi cinema history cinema, a quintessential upper-caste gaze has presented Dalits in the film to evoke Karuna rasa (Sympathy). Article 15 follows the traditions of Upper caste filmmakers like Mrinal Sen, Shyam Benegal or Govind Nihalani where minuscule roles are given to Dalit characters in the films where they can’t escape their upper-caste bais of looking at Dalits.

Article 15 appears to be a surreal interpretation of all the recent news clipping Director/writer have arranged for researching the word Dalit and recent political events. A strangely written character is modeled on the Bhim Sena chief Chandrasekhar (Nishad played by Zeeshan Ayyub), who is out on the bail, twirls his mustache and rides bullet. He cries in the film due to the enormous sadness that is bought upon him after challenging the upper castes and status quo. At some point, the same character converts into Rohit Vamuela, speaking voice-over lines which are taken from Rohit Vamuela’s suicide letter where he talks about becoming a science writer and his disillusionment with humanity in general. He (Nishad) however, in the end, dies like Bhagat Singh.

Then there is plot point based on Dalit-Brahmin Ekta of early Mayawati days where politicians from both the castes are shown as corrupt. In fact, there is a line where a Dalit character speaks about useless Dalit leaders who just build their own statues when in power. A rape case which resembles the case of Kathua rape case where police officers and powerful people were involved. Though the film is based on the Badaun gang-rape case.

The most outrageous casteist dialogues come from the mouth of a ‘casteist Dalit police officer ‘(Oxymoron much ? ) who uses caste slurs against his own Dalit police junior.

The same ‘casteist Dalit officer’ is in fact indulged in the heinous crime in the film. In one particular scene, Ayushman asks the caste of everyone around him. In the instance of ‘intra-casteism’, a dalit policeman says that he is above in caste hierarchy from another Dalit policeman. Suddenly there is a burst of relieved laughter in the movie theater as if pleased by the fact that even Dalits are casteist too. If everyone is a casteist then well no one is casteist.

Besides being a confused film on the social issue the greater crime that film commit is by being a dull film. I believe entertainment is the best form of propaganda and the boring films masquerading as ‘serious social cause’ films are often a parody of cause. Take the example of films made by Dalit filmmakers such as P Ranjith and Nagraj Manjule- Sairat and Kaala, respectively. Both crackling film within their regional traditions, high on entertainment values, delivering an important message by taking the best use of available filmmaking/narratives technique. Article 15 doesn’t move beyond the gloom, melodrama and monotonous mood which filmmaker associated with the idea of being a Dalit in the country. As if crying from the roof ‘ I am a SERIOUS FILM. NOTICE ME’

Many dalit activists have written about Brahmin Saviour complex of the film. Those who don’t agree with the criticism asked me the question then what could have been another kind of stories in a narrative film where a Dalit can be the main protagonist. How can we make a film about Dalit hero without shedding the tears of pity and assigning them a voiceless role?

Here are examples of possible stories where Dalit can lead. A few years back Sanjay Jatav wanted to marry by taking out wedding procession on a horse. The Thakurs in Kasganj had refused to allow a wedding procession as they believe Dalits don’t deserve one. Never in the history of the village, a Dalit wedding procession had passed. Sanjay Jatav first knocked at the door of Allahabad High court without much relief. He refused to give up and posted an online appeal on the portal of Chief Minister and also continuously visited the police station. Earlier, the administration didn’t allow him to carry the procession but later changed its mind. On 15th July the history was made. Dressed in a powder-blue suit, Sanjay Jadhav, smiling with swag, rode the horse. 100’s of police accompanying him, as he carries a grand procession in the village to marry Sheetal- the love of his life.

Ajay Navaria, who perhaps is the best Dalit storyteller right now, has written a short story in the book Unclaimed Terrain where a Brahmin is working as government peon under an IAS officer who happens to be a Dalit. The book is loaded with new ideas with a refreshing take on changing caste realities.

Then there are struggles of Meghwal Dalit of Jodhpur who fought a fierce battle where barber refused to cut their hair. P.A Ranjith is making a film on the courage of Dalit freedom fighter Birsa Munda.

My point isn’t about overlooking the realities of atrocities. They do exist in abundance but the point here I am making is about a certain kind of gaze. There has been ample debate in the intellectual circuit about whether upper castes can tell dalit stories. Well, I feel one can but their gaze always remains problematic and their perception of Dalit either remains dystopian or a gloomy. No one will be interested to tell nuanced stories of what it means to be dalit in India.

As Ashish Nandy puts it: “Pity and sympathy, after a point, can be degrading and vulgar. Instead of shedding copious tears for the poverty and the exploitation of the Dalits and Adivasis, the time has come to celebrate their self-affirmation and the enormous diversity of cultural, ecological, artistic, technological and intellectual riches.”

Article 15 does try to say something but it is bogged down by its own ambition of becoming an edgy thriller like the Mississippi Burning and on the other hand, aspiring to be a hard-hitting socio-political film. In the end, it doesn’t hit anyone.