A family is a priceless unit. It constitutes the most immediate and deeply personal relationship that shapes an individual even before they attain consciousness. As time graces everyone, the family members often develop an internal unspoken language. It does not convey everything a person is going through, yet effectively communicates whenever there is something wrong. Whether a slight shift in tone or a break in the patterned behaviour, those little contradictions from the usual act as an alarming juxtaposition, raising doubts and concerns among the members. When even the thought of any form of danger towards this close-knit can instil fear and cause a scar, the lines between love, obsession, care, and protection often get blurred and moral questions cease to exist.
Tapping into the same complex and ambiguous space of family ties, Jigra focuses on the unconditional love of Satya for her brother Ankur and the need she always feels to protect him from the outer world. Their tragic childhood made Satya, as an elder sister, the ever-present shield in front of her younger brother and any approaching iniquity towards him. However, the circumstances have turned grave, and Ankur has found himself stuck in a drug case in the fictional South Asian town of Hanshi Dao. The court has adjourned him guilty and served the death penalty through electrocution within three months. In this quest against the system, how far will Satya go to protect her brother and escape him from prison?
Directed by Vasan Bala, who has a very peculiar and pulpy voice as a filmmaker, which screams throughout his filmography whether we talk about Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota, Monica, O My Darling or the documentary series Cinema… Marte Dum Tak. The world in these ventures featured some really eccentric characters, and humour acted as an essential anchor that delivered these inventive stories to the audience. Somewhere, Jigra is part of the same universe where eccentricism continues to exist with the blend of extremism but at the cost of humour. With homages to Amitabh Bachchan and Korean Directors, and even sprinkled references to Dharma Production’s own films like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Student of the Year, this is truly a Vasan Bala film that is just more intense and larger than life in terms of story, volume and scale.
At the centre of this mayhem created by Vasan Bala and Debashish Irengba, Alia Bhatt as Satya and Vedang Raina as Ankur both stand tall and determined. The synergy and bond they exchange as brother and sister translate naturally on-screen. The intentional stoic manner of Alia Bhatt’s performance where she has grabbed and pulled everything running inside her that sometimes flows out, but mostly she keeps it locked within. Though, when she breaks down in the film's climax, it feels like a huge burden has been lifted, as if a forced spirit has finally abandoned the charged soul.
On the other hand, Vedang Raina complements the fierce performance of Alia Bhatt with his showcase of delicate vulnerability and charm. Through the course of the film, it was interesting to see him adapt and evolve with his surroundings rather than being just a one-trick character. He has his own personality and morals, which may not be as dynamic as Satya's character but still adds a lot to the overall balance of characters in the mix. As the film progresses, what further intensifies the struggle and raises the stakes is the demonic presence of Vivek Gomber as Hansraj Landa. He is a jailer who is driven by the rules of the land and consumed by his power and duty. Vivek Gomber perfectly encapsulates the evil tendencies of this character, who does not appear to be evil on the face but is indeed one. The film progresses seamlessly when these three characters are present in the frame.
Unfortunately, when the film shifts its lens to shed light on the supporting cast featuring Manoj Pahwa, Rahul Ravindran, Satya’s extended family and other jail mates of Ankur, it drags the screenplay a bit unnecessarily at some parts and largely deviates from the core plot. While their performances are excellent, their inclusion and character arcs (even lack of them) left me puzzled, and I felt unsure of what the film was trying to be and deliver itself to the audience. There seems to be a conflict between either embracing the larger-than-life moments or sticking to realism, which drew me out of the film and instead made me introspect on the same.
For example, in the climax scene, where there is absolute carnage, they have placed an old Bollywood song which plays alongside the surrounding sound, consisting of drifting cars, firing guns and explosions. Now, I would have probably enjoyed this scene a bit more if they had totally surrendered to the nostalgia and allowed the song to take centre stage and then cut it in between, making room for the real sound and background score to kick in. Also, there is a brief action sequence shown between Satya and a supporting character, which is placed just before the climax to clearly establish how Satya’s love for her brother exceeds any basic human values or morals. It does not quite sit well with the flow of the narrative as it not only holds the proceeding but also tries to underline something that has already been established till that point.
What aids the film in these fleeting dull moments is the Cinematography by Swapnil S. Sonawane and Music composed by Achint Thakkar. The changing colour tones from blue to orange to red adds to the progression and intensity of the film. Alongside colours, the use of close-up camera movements builds the tension and creates an internal sensation from the viewer’s end. Coming to the music, I think it contributes exceptionally to several sequences and elevates their impact tenfold.
For example, the first time Satya and Ankur meet in the prison, the scene is supported by the song ‘Tenu Sang Rakhna,’ which is penned beautifully by Varun Grover and sung elegantly by Arijit Singh and Anumita Nadesan. As the opening verse is voiced - ‘Taara na disse, Ya chaann kho jaawe, Tenu sang rakhna’ - the film struck the first emotional chord with me, and I was hooked. Even the use of ‘Jigra Title Track’ in the climax brought me to the edge of my seat with feet tapping and blood rushing through my veins. It made me feel something beyond the compounds of my body - something so transcending and powerful! When the film ended, I was taken aback. However, when I looked at the overall experience, it felt a little incomplete. The film, somewhere in the middle, fell short of reaching its true potential.
Comments
Post a Comment