Manasarovar: An outstanding effort

UTPAL BORPUJARI writes about ‘Manasarovar,’ the film that heralded the other entries at the 35th IFFI’s Indian Panorama section.

It is a love story that ends before it begins. At least that is what the catchline claims. But ‘Manasarovar,’ the debut film of director Anup Kurian, is much more than that. With a largely young crew, most of whom are making their big screen debut, it was the opening film of the prestigious Indian Panorama section of the 35th International Film Festival of India (IFFI) in Goa in December, but its significance goes much beyond that.

Despite being in English, it speaks about an India where both rural and urban lifestyles co-exist harmoniously. In that very count itself, it is a departure from the recent trend of Indian English films which talk either of urban India or of NRIs. In this respect, it is in the mould of Dev Benegal’s ‘English, August!’.

‘Manasarovar,’ being released in January in England- its Indian release is expected shortly thereafter- is in every essence a delightful film, and despite its socio-philosophical undertone, it never drags. It has a simple storyline.

So the story goes:
Management consultant George Nair (Zafar Karachiwala) comes to Pune to help restructure a publishing house, where he meets the vivacious Malati Chandran (Neha Dubey). Malati emerges to be the woman whose unrequited love made George’s brother Ravi Roy (Atul Kulkarni) vanish one fine day. Why did Malati not respond to environmental engineer Ravi’s overtures?

Was it Ravi’s seemingly unpredictable behaviour that made her apprehensive? Was Ravi an impulsive young man or his moves well-thought of? Neither Malati nor the viewer has a clue to all this questions, making the story open-ended, and thus giving the viewer a lot to think about as the film ends on a philosophical note. All this, however, never make the narrative boring, as Atul Kulkarni once again comes up with a brilliant characterisation of a young, highly-educated Keralite who prefers to operate as a consultant from his picturesque village in Kumarokam. As Ravi Roy, he gives a performance that brings out the purity of that character’s mind, but also enthralls the viewer with his free-flowing acting, never mind that he plays a Keralite but speaks English with a Maharashtrian accent.

Neha Dubey perfectly complements him as the urbane young woman who lives alone in a city and is confident about herself, except when it comes to making a decision about her life. The film has been shot in the verdant locales of Kerala, Pune and Himachal Pradesh, and debutant cinematographer Viswamangal Kitsu (he, Kurian, editor Unni Vijayan and sound designer Gissy Michael are all from the 1998 batch of the Film and Television Institute of India) shows great promise as someone who has a magnificent eye for framing the landscape.

It’s been hard work
For Kurian, who made the film within Rs 25 lakh, all of that his savings from his US job, it is a commendable debut. But even otherwise, the film stands out for its sincere approach to the subject aided by the light-hearted approach that gets highlighted through the witty dialogues mouthed by Atul Kulkarni. The film has already won Kurian the prestigious Aravindan Puraskaram for the best debut director in India given out from Kerala and the Gollapudi Srinivas Award for best debut director in India given out from Chennai, and should find a good urban audience if marketed well.

For the record, the first award’s jury was headed by Adoor Gopalakrishnan and the second’s by Kamal Haasan. It is, however, much beyond just a simple story of personal relationship. At least for Kurien, who says, “One way it is a political movie. Rural India is comfortable with urban India in many more ways than urban India is with rural India. Ravi Roy is very comfortable with Malati, but she is little bit afraid. There are some political issues happening in a very subtle manner. It is a love story, but not yet a pure love story. It can be interpreted in many ways, and I think that is the reason why people are liking it. It makes you think. But it does not preach”.

Kurian, the son of a long-time journalist with Malayala Manorama newspaper based in Kottayam, deliberately chose English, as the language for his debut movie. And he has solid reasons for doing that. “Hindi can be a pan-Indian language, but it has its limitations. English is the closest to a real pan-Indian language.

Now is the time to use the idiosyncrasies that we Indians have given to English. I am not talking about Hinglish films- that is probably a fad. It has to be pure English but spoken by us,” he says.

What’s in the name
The film’s title is intriguing, but as Kurian explains, “In this movie, it stands for a quest for clarity in one’s life- the clarity somehow attained by Ravi Roy. He knows his place in the world, but Malati is yet to come to terms with her place in the world. You need a catharsis in life to attain that clarity. To go to Manasarovar is not easy- it is probably one of those places which is attainable yet it has an unattainable quality about it.

So, in my film, it symbolises a quest, not physical but mental”. Incidentally, Kurian did a lot of thinking while selecting the lead artistes.

“I wanted really, really good actors of my generation, as I did not have any experience of making a movie. Atul and Neha are probably the best of the lot today. They are not stars but actors. Atul is a rural Maharashtrian- he and Ravi Roy probably have the same mindset and philosophy.

“Same with Neha and Malati- who loves India and its people but in a totally different socio-political aspect. When these two come together, you probably get the entire youth of India. They are probably playing themselves. They interpreted the characters themselves”.

Another interesting aspect of the film is its music, which is the collaborative effort of several foreign artistes, thus making it a thoroughly Indian film that has practically no Indian music. While the theme song, ‘Falling Through The Clouds,’ is composed and rendered by Dublin-based, little-known Irish group Random, found out by Kurian through the Internet, the background score was composed by US-based David Prahl with Lisa Stanislawski, who shot into prominence in the US with her hit single ‘I believe the rain’ from her album ‘Feign’ in 1995, and Craig Leiniger.

The audience reaction to his movie at both London and IFFI has left him pleasantly surprised, more so because being his first go at feature film making, he made it the way he wanted to do it, and not as the markets would have dictated.
“I belong to a generation who suddenly saw wealth- I was in that Internet bubble period, went to the US and had enough money to make a movie. How many of middle-class guys like me can afford that luxury? So, I decided to make the movie like I wanted to.

All the crew were freshers- it was a kind of a challenge that why cannot young people do it?,” says Kurian. If ‘Manasarovar’ is any indication, he is sure to etch a name for himself in Indian film map.