The Lunchbox - A dose of awesomeness

The tagline of The Lunchbox asks - Can you fall in love with someone you haven’t met?

The answer is an emphatic yes! The movie not only tells us the story of this epistolary romantic relationship but also makes us part of these people's lives. Nuanced performances, a love that is extraordinary in its most ordinary form, this Lunchbox satiates us with the delectable dish of human emotions of loneliness, nostalgia, love and hope!

Replete with eloquent silences, it speaks louder than any melodramatic movie and its characters reach out to us in more ways than one. The movie's protagonists are ordinary people and their mundane lives. Repetition, routine, monotony, loneliness, disillusionment and nostalgia are pivotal and persistent. The characters get etched with such intricacy in our hearts that we can relate to their simple day to lives and struggles. The introvert Saajan, played by Irrfan Khan is awe inspiring. The depths of emotion that this man can make one feel are beyond expression. He’s mostly quiet and particular at work. An old man about to retire, coming to terms with his lonely life. A loner. It is only when he interacts with Ila (Nimrat Kaur) that we get a sneak peek of the different dimensions of his character – a man with inner conflicts. Nostalgia gets the better of him as he misses his dead wife, recalling the days when he would stand outside smoking, looking at his wife through the window while she laughed watching ‘Ye Jo Hai Zindagi’ on television. We too are hit by nostalgia as we get glimpses of the old world charm through letters (sigh), old TV series on DVD, songs played on Auntie’s cassettes, present throughout the movie.

In stark contrast to the introvert Saajan is his junior Sheikh (brought to life by the awesome Nawazuddin Siddiqui). His intruding ways and annoying presence in Saajan’s life is frustrating initially. Gradually, as his character unfolds, he turns into the most endearing character in the movie. His relationship with Mehrunissa - his girlfriend (later wife) is beautiful. I loved the part when Saajan asks him for how long have they been married and he answers nonchalantly with an innocence only natural to people who can love with all their heart, saying that sometimes it seems it’s been 25-35 years of togetherness, while at other times, it seems like they just met yesterday. Sheikh might appear cheesy to some, but all I saw was a man dripping of honesty and affection. It’s natural for an orphan who paved his way out in the big bad world to long for the love of a guardian or a mentor he can refer to as family. The friendship that the two men develop later is achingly beautiful. Words don't suffice when I think of the sequence when Saajan is sitting in a taxi, about to leave from Sheikh's wedding (and later for Nashik). You can only know what I'm talking about if you've seen the movie.

Ila, the young housewife who’s trying hard to revive her marriage by taking extra effort to cook delicious lunches for her husband with the help of her neighbour auntie. We never get to see auntie. We only hear the lovely distinct voice of Bharti Achrekar who helps Ila with cooking as well as relationship tips. Ila is troubled and disillusioned but still full of hope. She wants to live in Bhutan as the country seems as a promise of happiness (because her daughter was taught at school that Bhutan had something called Gross Domestic Happiness instead of GDP). She finds a confidante in Saajan, a friend to share her agony, a person who understands loneliness, whose words comfort her when there’s nothing left in her life to look forward to.

The movie showcases Mumbai in a very significant way. The daily life of a city dweller, the struggles, the aspirations, locals, dabbawallas, middle class families – these are all aspects that bring the movie to life in very subtle ways.

What I loved the most about The Lunchbox was the end. Unexpected. Abrupt. One is left craving for more and smiling with a sense of wonder. Ritesh Batra’s debut is a heartwarming experience and certainly one of the best movies this year.

Kshay

Kshay made its way to me yesterday through Facebook. I read a bit about it online and had an instant urge to watch it. So today, I was at PVR Phoenix, watching it. It’s the first movie that I watched alone. I did not want to miss out something just because of lack of company. And I discovered two things: first, I was right…one can’t afford to miss such a movie and second, I quite enjoy my company (ok yeah I’m a narcissist, and a proud one!)

Kshay is the story of obsession transforming into insanity. The transformation is so deftly incorporated that there isn’t a time when the character of Chhaya doesn’t engage you. Her mind embarks on dream voyages which will take you along and haunt you with the daunting images. The loving moments between the protagonists are so brilliantly juxtaposed with the agitated times. The simplicity will make you smile. The agitation will stir you up. There are times when Chhaya will annoy you and at other times, she will gain your empathy. You might as well feel sorry for Arvind. That’s proof enough that the characters have achieved what they intended to.

The film is shot in black and white, which certainly enhances the grim mood of the story. There’s an overwhelming presence of Chhaya’s object of desire and obsession; Lakshmi, in one form or the other is an integral part of most sequences. The music is one of the best elements in the film. It takes the experience to a whole new level.

Kshay will engage you, involve you, disturb you and fill you with a sense of foreboding. Congratulations Karan Gour and the whole team of Kshay for such a remarkable piece of art.

PS: Being a cine lover, it makes me sad to see Rowdy Rathore shows go houseful and movies like this can’t even stay for a week in the theatres! And, we complain and crib about Bollywood standards going down! What a pity! There's no dearth of fine cinema. We need to reach out for such art and make sure such movies don't get corroded and die in the garb of "art" films.