Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Natsamrat (2016)

After Katyar Kaljat Ghusli, it is now the turn of another immortal stage production to make its way to the silver screen - V. V. Shirwadkar's Natsamrat ("King of Actors"). Katyar, of course, was a lavish production with a superb ensemble cast, and translated beautifully into a film! Natsamrat, on the other hand, would almost qualify as a one-man show - the story completely revolves around the eponymous lead - so how does this poignant drama fare?

The story is age-old. Ganpatrao Belvalkar (Nana Patekar) is an eminent thespian, his life's work his Shakespearean roles that he lives and breathes! Feted with the highest theatre award - the title of 'Natsamrat'- he decides to retire, and despite the misgivings of his wife, Kaveri, bequeaths all his worldly possessions to his children. Parental pride and trust soon crumbles in the face of filial ingratitude and betrayal - and the once respected, idolized Ganpatrao is reduced to a homeless vagrant, his life ironically unfolding into a Shakespearean tragedy! Is the Natsamrat doomed to live out the rest of his days in an agonizing anonymity? Or will his children see the error of their ways??

Comparisons to the iconic stage production are inevitable - especially when a celebrated actor like Dr. Shriram Lagoo has completely ruled Natsamrat so convincingly for so long. Dr. Lagoo is Belvalkar, and he has set the bar incredibly high! Nana Patekar rises admirably to the challenge - what an actor, and how refreshing to see him in something other than an asinine Bollywood comedy  - a bravura, acclaimed performance, and yet, in my opinion, he doesn't quite hit the mark. I think that Nana Patekar's very earthiness, his son-of-the-soil aura - which makes him so perfect to play a character like Dr. Prakash Amte - works against him this time. There is nothing frail or feeble or helpless about Nana Patekar - so Ganpatrao's helplessness, his desolation, his heartbreak never comes across convincingly.

The plight of the elderly is a very real social problem, even today, and yes, even in well-heeled families like the one depicted in this film. But once again, this never really comes through - the hardship and struggle seems very superficial - making it very hard to empathize. The domestic strife in the first half - the problems with the son and daughter-in-law - there's no buildup of tension, no simmering rage, no sense of things coming to a head - one minute, there's a montage of a happy family scenes, the next, there's this massive fallout - and over what? An inappropriate dance performed by the grand-daughter?? Really?? Where were the parents when this dance was being rehearsed?! And, honestly speaking, the creepy factor is pretty high here - a grandfather choreographing such a dance? Wouldn't it have been more keeping in character for him to teach her one of his beloved Shakespearean monologues??

And then when the daughter moves her parents to the outhouse - ample chance here to draw a parallel between the unnecessary broken-down stuff stored in the outhouse, and the parents who have outlived their apparent usefulness, stashed away to accumulate dust, forgotten by all. But the outhouse shown in the film is a like a villa - with rocking chairs on the porch, cheery yellow paint, and even potted plants - again, where's the hardship?? And then, with the stolen money incident, where's the impotent fury, the unbelieving despair? And where's the wife shoring up her broken husband with steely determination, with the will to start all over?? These kind of scenes need gut-wrenching, raw emotion - I, for one, was not impressed.

Even when he hits rock-bottom - he has tragically lost his wife, his son and daughter have stripped him of all dignity - even then, Ganpatrao appears to be remarkably in control of his faculties - this Ganpatrao has a job at a tea-stall, he has a routine of a drink with his fellow footpath dwellers, and a kindly old lady serves him food hot off the stove. Where's the scattered, broken-down excuse for a man, hanging on to life by a mere thread?? Where is the cry for help from the depth of a shattered soul? Where's the pathos?? How am I to feel sorry for this character??

As for the characters of Ram & Kumud, I'm still trying to understand how their track made any difference to the story. If Ram was meant to be a foil to Ganpatrao, a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on - we never see it. Vikram Gokhale is magnificent, as always, but he doesn't really have enough screen time to make an impact. Nevertheless, the best scene in the movie is when these 2 stalwarts act out Karna's death - absolute goosebumps! - more of these, although irrelevant, would have been very welcome!! And not to take away anything from Nana Patekar - but am I the only one who thinks that Vikram Gokhale would have probably been better for the title role??

Not a very positive review so far, but keep in mind that all my quibbles are actually about the differences between the theatre version and the film version. So, in spite of all my carping, it cannot be denied that this is actually a pretty decent film - as long as you don't compare it to the original theatre version. It is indeed a good sign that Marathi films are once again drawing audiences to a theater, and for a fresh pair of eyes, I would recommend watching this. As for me, the shadow of Dr. Lagoo's performance loomed just too large - so yes, by all means, watch the film - but then don't forget to grab a DVD of the stage production!!