‘There is a notion I would like to see buried- the
ordinary person’- Alan Moore, ‘Watchmen’.
Imtiaz Ali had always done
the same with all his films- discarding the ‘ordinary person’, favoring instead
extraordinarily sketchy and intriguingly enigmatic characters on journeys that
take them places but also bring them back to homes, love or even loss. These
are people, who want to break free, follow their heart, even as it leads them
to certain defeat- and their journeys, while not always ending on a satisfying
note, nevertheless leave the viewers uplifted, spellbound. As it happens, Ali is a storyteller of a higher class- his
films based on well-worn premises of love, self-discovery and spiritual
adventure but the beauty of them lies in the telling- the immaculate,
multi-layered way of telling these tall tales.
‘Tamasha’- a sprawling romp of a film, living
up to its rambunctious name- is all about that- storytelling. It is a film
which tells an often-told tale with unbridled passion, unexpected quirk and
whimsy and fine little nuances that make the tale totally new. It does take you
on an enthralling ride, but not as much into the charming Corsica or the
various dreadnoughts on the film’s narrative map into which the film shifts
from time to time, but rather into the tortured soul of its bewildered -and
equally bewildering- protagonist.
It begins like all Imtiaz
Ali films on a totally unpredictable note- we are escorted, from a theatrical
stage scene to a wonderfully nuanced flashback- in which our protagonist, Ved,
is a young boy who can’t quite solve math problems and, with eyes hinting at
great mysteries inside his soul, grows up drinking deeply from what Salman
Rushdie called ‘The Sea Of Stories’.
The writer-director has
always been known for blending both spectacular quirk and terrific detail in
both the visual palette and the banter between his staunchly progressive
characters and all this comes in spades in these irresistibly charming early
moments. Ved’s mind, buzzing with stories, rattled off by a grizzly, bearded
old Shah Of Blah, who charges fixed rates for his tall tales, is also alive and
throbbing with cinematic versions of the most pulpy tales- from The Ramayana to
Laila Majnu- and the film’s dreamlike, hallucinatory style captures them all-
in grainy, handheld digital video glory-from the larger-than-life Ramleela acts
to the stage scenes of romantic separation and blending them together with Ved’s
own hyperactive imagination-cramming in all the people he sees around him. It
is a fabulous prelude, a gloriously unhinged celebration of the power of
storytelling and it sets the film’s twisted premise perfectly.
Our main tale begins in
sun-kissed Corsica, the island on which Napoleon Bonaparte was born, and with
the equally sun-drenched Tara, a spunky girl who then meets a guy unlike any
other. The thing is, the guy is here for an adventure, albeit one inspired by
70’s Bollywood and calling himself ‘Don’, decides to take along Tara for a
gallop of ribaldry across this jaw-dropping beautiful island. One condition-
they will never tell each other’s truths to each other (ala ‘The Last Tango In
Paris’) and they will never meet each other again.
The breezy and breathtaking
first half is dedicated mostly to a fascinatingly unconventional romantic
repartee between its leads. I would hate to reveal more of this portion- except
for how amazingly Ali handles the moments ripe for dullness with great
emotional deftness- a touchingly poignant embrace is rendered as subtly
romantic and the sexual sparks, while evident, are portrayed with a grown-up
maturity unseen in most romances today.
However, ‘Tamasha’ is not
really a romance. Far from one, it is instead a character drama centering on
its inherently muddled-up character. Tara discovers that the man whom she fell
in love with, at an island seven seas away is actually a humdrum, mediocre,
office-worker back home. It is at this juncture that the film shifts completely
to Ved and while it does reveal all his inner demons-with both whimsical glee
and genuine empathy- it is here that Ali’s breakneck pace, so far, slows down
and things begin to drag.
Yet, yet. As always, it is
largely in how the film tells it story that ‘Tamasha’ gets its wonderfully
quirky yet melodious rhythm. The film delights in its dry, verbose humor- Ali’s
portrayal of the monotonous routine of Ved’s office life is subtly humorous but
his depiction of the twin selves inside this man- best accentuated by his ideas
of a romantic date being predictably a dinner or a movie- is equally profound-
both drily hilarious and emotionally affecting at the same time. For a good
amount of time, the film lavishes attention on Ved’s unpredictable nature-
literally a ticking time bomb of a person, tossing cheekily nonsensical words
between presentations and yet trying to adjust to a boss, obsessed funnily with
neckties.
The fact that Ved merely wants to
follow his true vocation-storytelling- is perhaps as simple as the premise can
be but ‘Tamasha’ truly makes its mark by the little but crucial ways in which
it deviates from formula. Another film would have tweaked out the bipolar behavior
of Ved and turned it into a trashy thriller- this one sticks to his tale and
tells it in ingenious ways that make the difference.
There is so much to admire
in the film’s wonderful touches- the fact that a troupe of bohemian musicians
sing along that addictive ‘Heer To Badi Sad’ ballad, beautifully used against
Tara’s desolate quest for happiness. Or that fabulous rickshaw driver, who used
to be a singing sensation in his hometown- a small but pivotal character who
takes the film on a thrilling new path- along with that inanely catchy ‘Wat Wat
Wat’ song. A. R Rahman belts out an elaborate, if slightly uneven, score to go
along with the film’s perfectly captured moods, S. Ravi Varman shoots with
immersive beauty and Aarti Bajaj edits as if cutting across psychedelic images
and visions but the best part about ‘Tamasha’ is how light Ali’s direction
feels- wrapping up this fable with amazing confidence in his material- making
even moments like the son-father confrontation or the final romantic reunion
genuinely uplifting and tongue-in-cheek by turns, by the blend of great
dialogue and solid visual sense to go along with them. A common criticism for
his films has been a lack of focus but things remain wonderfully in place and focused
here.
The actors all have a ball-
Piyush Mishra is magnificent as the said wizened raconteur who frequently
muddles together details (much to Ved’s nitpicking chagrin), Javed Sheikh plays
stern patriarchy without being ruthless or unfeeling, Vivek Mushran is quite a
lot of fun as a boss who prizes behavior over performance and finally, we boil
down to Deepika Padukone as Tara and Ranbir Kapoor as Ved, playing a pair so
full of both spunk as well as simmering emotions, that they alone shoulder the
film on the sheer irresistible spark of their chemistry. Individually, Padukone
is quite super- with both plucky mischief (the way she says Mata Hari in a
Japanese falsetto) as well as vulnerability (the way she fidgets when openly
asking Ved if he has a girlfriend yet). But this is Kapoor’s film and he makes
it fly, blending enigma, alluring mischief and psychological pain in an
extraordinary way to command a whole movie. It is his finest hour.
‘Tamasha’ is a wonderful
tale, an old-school tale which preaches us all to follows our hearts and shed
routine (and those scene-stealing, ravishing Corsican locales help) but while
the other films this year saying the same thing (the heartless ‘Dil Dhadakne Do’
and the silly ‘Shandaar’) were basically dampeners, this one soars merely by
the way Ali tells it- with trademark flourishes of wit, whimsy and hearty
emotions. As Mishra’s weary storyteller would say, what is wrong if the story
is the same, just settle in and listen to it anyway. The same would apply to
the film, even as it does deviate gloriously from formula. Good films get us
drunk on the power of cinema, this one does something better- getting us all
drunk on the power of storytelling.
My Rating- 4 Stars out of 5.
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