Patriarchy meets its match
Film: Bandkhor
Cast: Priyadarshini Indalkar, Chhaya Kadam, Mrinal Kulkarni
Directed by: Mahesh Manjrekar
Duration: 2 hours 12 minutes
Rating: * * * 1 / 2
Bandkhor marks a special place in the annals of Goan cinema as the first production ever to release across so many cities. As surprising as it may sound, this is the reality.
Directed by Mahesh Manjrekar, Bandkhor deals with the emancipation of women across generations. While it occasionally takes a sledgehammer approach to make its point, it never strays from its central theme—the main plot and subplots all revolve around women. As for the sledgehammer approach, given the state of affairs in society, some messages are perhaps best conveyed that way.
With a story by Manjrekar and dialogues by Irawati Karnik (Jhimma, Toh Ti Aani Fuji), Bandkhor takes a progressive approach, which is always refreshing to see. Manjrekar himself has explored issues surrounding women in the past with films such as Astitva, Kaksparsh and Panghrun. In Bandkhor, he goes for the jugular, focusing on women from different generations, with the men taking a back seat—and so does the Bechdel test, for the most part.
The story is about women who have suffered indiscriminately but have finally decided to take their destinies into their own hands. The film opens with Meera (Priyadarshini Indalkar) an independent woman with a slightly short fuse, who works as an advertising executive. Her best friend is her colleague, and her boyfriend is not too pleased about that. A death in the family brings Meera back to Goa, where she
hails from.
This brings her face to face with her family and all the women in it—her grandmother (Chhaya Kadam), who has just lost her husband; her mother (Titeeksha Tawde); her aunt (NityashreeDhanlaxmi); and her cousin (Pooja Katurde), who has barely turned 18 and whom her father, played by Mangesh Desai, wants to marry off. The father, who is also the protagonist’s uncle, is the sarpanch of the village and an ultra-conservative man.
When Meera expresses her wish to be present for her grandfather’s final rites, he tells her point-blank that women are not allowed there. Meera still shows up in her shorts and watches the proceedings from a distance, cigarette in hand. This invites the ire of her uncle, who castigates her for wearing
skimpy clothes.
“Shorts mhanta tyala Mama, Mumbai madhye sagle ghaltat” (These are called ‘shorts’; everyone wears them in Mumbai), she says, to which her uncle retorts, “Mumbai madhye ghalte, ithe nahi” (Wear them in Mumbai, not here).
These confrontational scenes are just the beginning of the revolt—that is what Bandkhor means: revolutionaries—that all the women eventually undertake. Apart from the women in the household, there is Sharda (Mrinal Kulkarni), another woman connected to the family, and it is an open secret that the grandfather had fathered another son.
Meera gradually discovers that while her grandmother lived under the shadow of the patriarch, she had put up a fight in her own right. Now, with the man of the house gone, she takes on the mantle of matriarch and encourages others to do what is right.
After the final rites, while the family is resting, the grandmother gets up to get a glass of water. When Meera offers to get it for her, the old lady says, “My husband is no more, but I am fit and fine,” and goes on to add, “I was married to your grandfather for 54 years, and he was a rascal of the first order.”
Gradually, the women come into their own as they put up a resistance, led by the grandmother. The character of the uncle changes shades, moving from that of a hardliner to providing comic relief.
For the most part, the film ticks the boxes when it comes to completing the characters’ arcs. The young cousin, who is set to get married, wants to study further, but her father stands in the way. In fact, the film pulls no punches when it comes to tackling patriarchy—and that is perhaps the single most endearing element of the film.
While one can anticipate, in a generic sense, where the story is headed, the frankness with which it gets there is pleasantly surprising. On the flip side, many scenes are punctuated by a background score, even when they have enough strength to stand on their own. The acting is largely serviceable, but Chhaya Kadam has a meaty role and makes the most of it.
Bandkhor makes no apologies for what it stands for. What works in its favour is the sincerity of its intent and the way it places women, rather than the men around them, at the centre of the narrative. It may shout its message rather than whisper it, but in doing so, it certainly makes itself heard.
Best of the beast
Film: Heart of the Beast
Cast: Brat Pitt, Uber(the dog)
Directed by: David Ayer
Duration: 1 hour 41 minutes
Rating: * * * 1 / 2
A story about a man and a dog—that one line is enough for suckers like me to get excited about a film, and David Ayer’s Heart of the Beast doesn’t disappoint. Ayer is known for his action films (The Beekeeper, Fury, Suicide Squad), and even though the human protagonist is a retired army man, this film is really about the bond between him and his dog.
Since the invention of cinema, films about humans and dogs have always held a special place. There was Charlie Chaplin’s evergreen A Dog’s Life (1918), Vittorio De Sica’s tearjerker Umberto D. (1952), and several films that followed. Even action films such as Sisu and John Wick have shown that canines haven’t gone out of fashion on the big screen.
Heart of the Beast could well be one of those films that begins with the words “Based on a true story”—except that it isn’t. This is a fictional story about a remarkably strong bond between a man and his dog.
James (Brad Pitt) is an army veteran who lives a quiet life in the wilderness of Alaska with his combat dog, Odin (played by Uber and a couple of other dogs). Both have served in the most testing of war conditions and suffer from PTSD and frequent nightmares. Odin even has a prosthetic leg, having been injured on the battlefield.
When bad weather is about to hit, the two take off in their small plane, only to crash-land in a forest with no signs of civilisation. Armed with a paper map, they set out in search of signs of life, but the journey is an arduous one, with bears and wolves lurking around. There are the expected ups and downs as they fight for survival, but you remain invested in the two characters on screen. At times, it is the human who saves his dog; at others, it is the other way around.
Either way, you might need a handkerchief, especially during the climax, when a letter is read out. I can’t remember the last time a letter being read on screen had such an emotional impact.
While it is not easy for a film to sustain its runtime with just a man and a dog—J.K. Simmons shows up briefly—the writing and editing help it sail through. For instance, the film rarely goes into elaborate details about how a particular crisis was resolved. Instead, it cuts straight to the aftermath. This keeps the narrative moving without getting bogged down in unnecessary exposition. Credit also goes to the editor for piecing the shots together so effectively, particularly the close-ups of Odin. Those expressive eyes are enough to melt your heart.
Whether it is Umberto’s Flike or James’s Odin, dogs sure know how to get you.
