Given the fidgetiness that I witnessed during some of the long, dialogue-less,
apparent hiatuses in the movie, I realised that patience is a great virtue to
enjoy the film, which is not available in oodles these days. For me it worked
smoothly because I just let it happen, let it just spread its wares in front of
me to ...take
it in slowly, to let it seep in gradually, in stead of judging and analysing it
intellectually. Just before I got into the theatre at 10.45 pm, I met a former
young colleague of mine, who made a tongue in cheek comment, that being a Bong,
it was expected of me to watch this movie. Racial slur or compliment whatever it
was, it insinuated that this is an 'intellectual' movie, to be enjoyed at the
level of intellect. In the very first place, I have a little discomfort with
this perspective of appreciation of any form of art. I can be posthumously
famous for my oft used sentence, whenever someone says, "I don't understand
Western/ Hindustani Classical Music/ Abstract Art etc". My usual retort to that
is "Do you understand Chicken Hakka Noodles/ Rogan Josh/ Sashimi?" Any aesthetic
work, and that includes the now popular culinary one, first grabs us through our
senses and goes straight deep within, before it resurfaces at the level of our
intellect so that we can articulate to ourself and others, if at all we can, why
we like what we like.
That is how Ship of Theseus worked. Not through my
intellect, although it had more to offer to my infamous faculty than half a
century of Bollywood. Because life has taught me over the years to be a patient,
detached observer of the world as it goes about its business, I let the ship
sail all over me. And it did not leave an inch of empty space. It worked at the
level of senses, intellect, emotion and pervasively at an anatomical
level.
The first story is about the senses, of sight and sound, the two
most impactful sensory inputs in our lives. Alia's explorations in visual
imagery through the help of sound, her creative conflicts as a budding
photographer who is also visually impaired, her struggle with her apparent fall
in creativity when she gets her sight back and her final moment of peace at the
lap of magnificent nature.
The second story of Maitreya, the young Jain
Monk with erudition, strong resolve and robust sense of humour, is partly at the
level of the intellect, as it debates the religious position taken by the
spiritual atheist (brilliantly portrayed by Niraj Kabi) with the moral question
whether we have a right to hurt even ourselves over such beliefs. But it is much
more than that. It is the most visceral of the three stories with the
painstaking and painful portrayal of the drastic degradation of his health.
While the entire film is on the anatomical backdrop of organ donation and
trafficking, this is the most physical of the three narratives.
The last
story of Navin, the young Marwari stock broker with provincial ways, having an
urbane, liberal, social worker maternal grandmother, is a story of
transformation, of final bonding across apparent cultural differences and of
universal empathy, works mostly at the level of emotion especially on the
protagonist.
I am a sucker for script and editing, two cornerstones of
moviemaking and the two most neglected aspects in Indian films. Ship of Theseus,
given the structure of the film, does a brilliant work of both, comparable with
the very best in the world. The performances, backed by crisp, realistic
dialogues with sharp wit and insight, are outstanding. I do not want to dwell
much over that as then I will never finish writing this (and I am hungry for
lunch), but Niraj Kabi stood out for me, along with Vinay Sharma. Aida was very
convincing in her unusual role and portrayed the struggles with ease. Sohum
Shah, looks like, played himself and thus was very believable.
The
Paradox of Theseus as an identity conundrum is not very relevant for me,
although it is a visually interesting question. For me this movie, as I said,
worked on several layers simultaneously, and on the level of intellect, this
paradox is not something that was my moot takeaway from the film. But what I
took away at my subconscious, I guess, nay I am sure, is much much more than
that. The tapestry is so rich, so surfeit with themes, issues and motifs, that
it could easily turn out to be an unpalatable and uncontrolled smorgasbord.
However, unburdened by commercial aspirations or concerns (Kiran Rao be
blessed), endowed with the sincerity of any first major work and abundance of
talent, and lastly of great teamwork, this, is a tour de force, and IMHO, is a
singular movie in the history of Indian cinema.
