Anand Ekrashi’s ‘AATAM’
Published in Baradwaj Rangan's Movie Blog:
An awakening art, a maze, that shuns all moral solutions redundant and questions one's inner judgments about people around. Committed performance by the much talented cast keeps one engaged, but screenplay undoubtedly plays 'hero'. An enriching experience that prompts one to redefine boundaries, through self-evaluation.
A novel introduction of the premise - a theatre troupe, whose on-screen 'theatre
play', tears off the mask of the on-stage protagonist. The play is teaser,
for the rest of the film aims at tearing many such real-life masks, off-stage.
This complex process eventually unveils few masks off viewers faces as well, at
least off the daring lot, who brave to introspect.
The premise finds its parallel in the1954 teleplay by Reginald Rose and its
adaptation for the silver screen Twelve angry men. The adaptation had
drawn its metaphoric inspiration from the new testament's twelve ordinary
men, who were chosen as apostles to serve the world with gospel. The
twelve theatre artists in 'Aattam' (which simply translates 'Play')
also tries to either identify the culprit or to eliminate who isn't one.
Interestingly 'Aattam' introduces an 'eve' to the equation. The
troupe's stage play midst the opening credits, beautifully outlines the essence
of the plot. The maker replicates Girish Karnad's 'Hayavadana', and
brilliantly attempts to mix myth with contemporary elements such as the #me
too movement, to establish similarities between past and present.
When the country is flooded with 'rape statistics' of all sorts,
the Writer/Director Anand Ekarshi, chooses to keep aside the trauma of heinous
assaults and decides to handle a debatable 'groping' incident, as his primary
crux. And the screenplay spins around questioning our believes, through the 12
male characters the film houses, and the director chooses not to include
visuals of the incident, making audience the 'Jury Panel'
Apparently, a hand of Anjali's colleague/friend, whose company she trusted,
gropes her bosom through the window, in the middle of the night, when she is 'not
sober'. What might have been her state of mind then? She obviously
couldn't react or confront the person, owing to her intoxication. She presumes
who the offender might be and is in a state of shock because the offender was one
of the troupe members. She prefers to keep it to herself- a classic
feature of guilt in women, who turn victims of assaults of all magnitude. It
might also be because she didn't want to distort the troupe's harmony based on
her hunch. But ironically, her 'assumption' as to who the offender
might be, also loses significance due to her alcohol consumption, as it might
have distorted the sense of her judgment.
Each one of the male characters are societal samples of misogyny, patriarchy
and chauvinism, but on the contrary the director amplifies the consequences of
such 'uncertain', 'not-so-sober' accusations. The screenplay
for a while, topples the equation, in favor of them, men. Either the sample
size sadly didn't represent enough 'morally ethical men', or our opinions
became jaded, given the twisted scenario.
The table keeps turning at many of the twelve men, but the director doesn't
put a face to the groping hand- just as I couldn't get a glimpse of the
face of the man whose hand sneaked from behind, in the cinema hall, when I was
10. However, the facts point to the 'most liberal sounding' of
the twelve men, Sudheer, whose wife and daughter had accompanied to the resort,
sharing the room with Anjali on the night the incident happens. But
speculations can never lead to conclusion and along with Anjali, the viewers
are on their own, to scout the offender for themselves.
Anjali is hell bent, that she wouldn't lie to the group that she 'was
sure' that it was Hari who groped her. As much the director establishes
her character's morality- she not fearing a conflict with a powerful new
entrant of the group, a big screen actor with possible networks, the director
also contrasts the character's shortcomings- her 'insecurity' in
continuing a relationship, compromising her self-respect. She remains stuck
with her self-centred coward, boyfriend, Vinay, played by Vinay Forrt, who had
earlier dumped their four-year relationship, to get married to another girl.
While Vinay is furthering a divorce with his wife, Anjali pathetically lets
him, continue exploiting her, by insisting they keep their relationship, a
secret. The flawed character trait brilliantly plays out, emphasizing that even
a rational girl like her, needs a blow, to jolt her out of the relationship
mess, as 'love' turns the naive, 'blind'.
Owing to atone actor Hari, in exchange for the recognition and remuneration
through the proposed European show by the actor, the twelve men, try hard to
find faults with Anjali. And 'Tactile Hallucination' is the 'pinnacle
of creativity' by the artist bunch. When Jolly proves Hari was in bed ten
minutes prior to the incident, and it can't be him who groped Anjali, it's
inevitable not to be lured by the revelation. This is because the audience are
consciously loaded with vile assassinations about Anjali's character, similar
to the copious misinformation that are hurled at us in our real lives by people
around.
My teen memories are vivid, those sneaking hands in the cinema hall's
'rexin' wooden chairs, those shoulders that aim at my chest at crowded
exhibitions and temple festivities. While I revisited my state of mind then, I
was of course left shocked, pretty much like any pre-teen would have been. But
what I do remember was, catching hold of the repeating hand from behind and
pricking it with a safety pin- a trick my dad had taught, except we couldn't
catch a glimpse of the face in the dark. But wondered, why me and my dad didn't
dare to cause a commotion, confronting the offender. I realise now that, in the
80's maybe my dad wanted to evade a lecture against taking a young girl in the
crowd, especially to a movie hall. Is that why Anjali refrained from calling
out the offender immediately, because she would be reprimanded for being drunk?
Anjali wants to keep the incident to herself and not tell anyone else other
than her boyfriend. Was it because either she was guilty on the inside or she
was ashamed of herself for letting this happen? As a mother of an adult
daughter, my first thoughts were, 'if not for the alcohol, she could have found
the offender and punished him, so he wouldn't dare to commit a bigger offense
next time'. Also, the director adds fuel to the fire by proving Anjali's
muddled accusation, might have stained a probable innocent man, Hari, for life,
putting an end to his film career.
'Not to step out without Dhupatta (the upper cloth)', - a repetitive counsel
I have heard all my life, up until last month, in my late 40's. And
surprisingly I have rebelled it all along, arguing that it was not only me who
had been fumbled at but also the girls who promptly pinned their dhuppatas to
cover their bosoms, also faced such harassments.
Avoiding crowds, staying alert and never trust anyone around, had been my
mantra ever since. The female lead 'Anjali' played by Zarin Shihab, actually
picks up from where I left. Redefining my mantra, in today's scenario, would it
be - not to trust people around and to refrain from consuming alcohol in
public, I asked myself? Sounds gravely regressive and judgmental. I wondered
what my adult daughter's thoughts would be on this matter? If I had rebelled
for not wearing a dhupatta for 30 odd years, I should be rebelling not to
accept these assaults, maybe? Perhaps I should work towards a society, that
educates men to keep their hands to themselves rather than throwing guidelines
at girls for their public behaviour?
The dynamics are different today, but the angst remains the same, as I'm
trying to find parallels with my four-decade old teen life, to that of a
millennial girl. It pains that the plight remains unchanged. As I mount courage
to write about it, so did Anjali, as she stages her experience through a play
on the incident, while onlooking savage men continues to objectify and hurt
women.
I briefed the plot to an elite women group and asked if they would judge the
girl for being drunk, because she was not in a state to confront an offender,
immediately. To my surprise I was asked whether the girl was upset that she was
groped or not. There are girls who are no longer upset or angry when they are
groped? Are girls conditioned by society to ignore groping? Well, I myself was
conditioned four decades ago wasn't I, not to make a big issue out of it? I did
set out bravely to prick the dirty grouping hand, but wasn't encouraged to call
out the offender and putting him to shame in public?
When I did manage to answer the women group, 'yes, the groping did upset the
girl'- the women's views were very straight forward. They judged the girl for
getting drunk and substantiated that it was only human to judge the girl, as
they didn't know her personally. Anjali was not in the company of strangers and
was surrounded by trusted humans as she didn't judge any of them. She thought
she knew them well, but the twelve men judged her all along, each one of them
in their own way.
The world is never going to stop judging you whether they know you
personally or not. Only when one learns to become immune to people judging us,
we could advance our lives. While judging people around is not uncommon, it is
also not a crime, as it ascertains boundaries and helps one stay in a state of
awareness all the time. If someone offends you, instead of victimizing one's
own self, it is only sane to call the offenders out immediately and move-on,
with head held high. And like in Anjali's case, rule out who the real offender
is rather than hypothesizing who it might be.
Aatam - Life lessons indeed.
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