Dir – Rakesh Omprakash Mehra
Written by – Gulzar
Indulgences are almost always irrational. But they are richly rewarding to those involved. Mirzya appears like Gulzar and Rakesh Om Prakash Mehra’s indulgence. It is likely that it is not going to enjoy any good money or TV time (atleast in the near future). But that shouldn’t stop the makers or those who are willing to experience their indulgence, from watching it – it’s beautiful, if sometimes trying to impose images of timelessness, reflecting it’s source material – the Punjabi folklore of Mirza Sahiban (the traditional screen friendly trope of star-crossed lovers; often recalled as Romeo and Juliet – Gulzar references Shakespeare in admiration, through the characters mouthing Shakepeare’s dialogues).
Gulzar has a huge task at his end – making people aware of the the original story itself, and interweave it to a modern parallel, while not being repetitive or letting audience jump to conclusions.
The mythical story looks mythical, and ethereal; and is told through a tradition of folk tales being enacted through dialogues, lyrics that only Gulzar can conjure, and striking choreography. The scenes with the folklore possess no dialogues – only beautiful, almost comic panel like shots.
The only points that make it seem weaker are conveying the timelessness of the story for the modern parable – it isn’t easy to establish the two people are destined to be together. Suchitra is Adil’s childhood love, and the scenes are immensely beautiful, convincing you of the almost destroying nature of Adil’s devotion.
But it doesn’t translate so well when their paths accidentally cross again in their youth – it’s not easy to accept that a few lines of confrontation can ease the pain of separation, though the actors remain convincing in their portrayal.
One of the things that did strike me, apart from the brilliantly shot (by Paweł Dyllus) village and mythical fight sequences, were the dances – the response they elicited from the audience. They break the wall, in a way, telling you that this is a story, an age old one, and you are watching it happen again. Audiences would sometimes laugh out loud, or simply ponder over why the particular sequence is happening – and it seems that Gulzar aims at this – to lift you out of the narrative, simply to listen to it. It’s a weird experience, but a striking one; it’s wonderful to see people that are willing to make narrative choices that are unconventional but are still recognizable as traits of Bollywoodian storytelling.
hungryrj 