At the risk of sounding facetious, I would say Gurvinder Singh is Punjab's answer to Nagraj Manjule. His debut movie, Anhe Ghore Da Daan (Alms for a Blind Horse, 2011), was a stinging indictment of the all-pervading crony capitalism in Punjabi hinterland. His follow-up feature, Chauthi Koot (the Fourth Direction), is worth the five-year wait.
Based on two short stories by Waryam Singh Sandhu, the director connects two nearly disparate stories to show the grisly paranoia that gripped the state in 1984 during the anti-Sikh riots.
This immersive, essential movie starts off with two men missing their train to Amritsar at Ferozepur and forcing their way into another one, much to the chagrin of its guard. Singh expertly segues from this seemingly mundane incident to his main story about a farmer caught in the throes of the Khalistan movement and police atrocities. The reason: his pet dog's incessant barking.
Unlike Manjule, Singh doesn't hold up his placard of political predilections, which is not necessarily a bad thing. In his depiction of both ends of the spectrum, he has tried to be as objective as possible. He's one of those film makers who gives atmosphere paramount importance, something that might have clinched a place for it at the Un Certain Regard category at Cannes 2015. Suvinder Vicky as the silent sufferer is exemplary for simultaneously coming across as a dyspeptic family man and a fearful person. Equally good is Gurpreet Bhangu in his mother's role who brings a rare strain of pathos to the proceedings.
There's a terrific sequence where a bunch of men listen to BBC London on radio where they are informed about Operation Blue Star and consequently join a protest march against Indira Gandhi. The allure of the sequence lies in how Singh showcases his neo-realistic tendencies during the near 15-minute duration and beautifully recreates one of the darkest chapters of modern Indian history. This razor-sharp dissection of the post-Operation Blue Star through the eyes of the ordinary farmer community is what makes Singh such a stunning talent. The film, distributed by The Film Cafe with support from Drishyam Films and Tridev Films, has hit theatres across India with English subtitles.
Punjabi cinema is finally reclaiming itself with no help from Bollywood, which tends to over-romanticise the state with sarson ke khet, massive glasses of lassi and by portraying Punjabis as unidimensional people with hearts of gold. Even mainstream Punjabi cinema like Jatt and Juliet, Tu Mera 22 Main Tera 22 shows enough promise about this industry that is still in its infancy. Singh's brand of alternative cinema might just see the industry fully emerge from the chrysalis.
If Chauthi Koot is about living with past ghosts, American horror movie Lights Out is about exorcising imaginary ghosts. Swedish film maker David Sandberg begins his fairly engaging movie with a shape-shifting monster ripping apart a man at a clothes warehouse. As the title suggests, this monster would cower when facing any form of light.
This monster is the childhood friend of a woman whose children (Teresa Palmer and Gabriel Bateman) try hard to wean her off from the affections of an apparition. Despite occasional nods to Babadook and Conjuring, Lights Out ends up being quite original during its concise 80-minute duration. The movie doesn't veer too much towards the flat-out scary region as much as it revels in delivering chills when least expected.
In one of the movie's most exciting sequences, Palmer's boyfriend (Alexander DiPersia) is hung mid-air when he switches on his car lights and escapes the clutches. Except its contrived climax, the movie is an ingenious piece of film making, something I haven't felt for anything in this genre after Babadook. To call it a B-movie would be a mild disservice to something that stood out this year from Hollywood, which has had a fallow 2016 so far.
jagannath.jamma@bsmail.in
Based on two short stories by Waryam Singh Sandhu, the director connects two nearly disparate stories to show the grisly paranoia that gripped the state in 1984 during the anti-Sikh riots.
This immersive, essential movie starts off with two men missing their train to Amritsar at Ferozepur and forcing their way into another one, much to the chagrin of its guard. Singh expertly segues from this seemingly mundane incident to his main story about a farmer caught in the throes of the Khalistan movement and police atrocities. The reason: his pet dog's incessant barking.
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Chauthi Koot is made with the pure DNA of Anhe Ghore Da Daan: prolonged sequences, lot of close-up shots, maudlin soundtrack that sometimes evokes an impending sense of doom (Marc Marder at the helm of affairs), amazing use of natural light (Satya Rai Nagpaul deserves a medal), near amateur cast.
Unlike Manjule, Singh doesn't hold up his placard of political predilections, which is not necessarily a bad thing. In his depiction of both ends of the spectrum, he has tried to be as objective as possible. He's one of those film makers who gives atmosphere paramount importance, something that might have clinched a place for it at the Un Certain Regard category at Cannes 2015. Suvinder Vicky as the silent sufferer is exemplary for simultaneously coming across as a dyspeptic family man and a fearful person. Equally good is Gurpreet Bhangu in his mother's role who brings a rare strain of pathos to the proceedings.
There's a terrific sequence where a bunch of men listen to BBC London on radio where they are informed about Operation Blue Star and consequently join a protest march against Indira Gandhi. The allure of the sequence lies in how Singh showcases his neo-realistic tendencies during the near 15-minute duration and beautifully recreates one of the darkest chapters of modern Indian history. This razor-sharp dissection of the post-Operation Blue Star through the eyes of the ordinary farmer community is what makes Singh such a stunning talent. The film, distributed by The Film Cafe with support from Drishyam Films and Tridev Films, has hit theatres across India with English subtitles.
Punjabi cinema is finally reclaiming itself with no help from Bollywood, which tends to over-romanticise the state with sarson ke khet, massive glasses of lassi and by portraying Punjabis as unidimensional people with hearts of gold. Even mainstream Punjabi cinema like Jatt and Juliet, Tu Mera 22 Main Tera 22 shows enough promise about this industry that is still in its infancy. Singh's brand of alternative cinema might just see the industry fully emerge from the chrysalis.
If Chauthi Koot is about living with past ghosts, American horror movie Lights Out is about exorcising imaginary ghosts. Swedish film maker David Sandberg begins his fairly engaging movie with a shape-shifting monster ripping apart a man at a clothes warehouse. As the title suggests, this monster would cower when facing any form of light.
This monster is the childhood friend of a woman whose children (Teresa Palmer and Gabriel Bateman) try hard to wean her off from the affections of an apparition. Despite occasional nods to Babadook and Conjuring, Lights Out ends up being quite original during its concise 80-minute duration. The movie doesn't veer too much towards the flat-out scary region as much as it revels in delivering chills when least expected.
In one of the movie's most exciting sequences, Palmer's boyfriend (Alexander DiPersia) is hung mid-air when he switches on his car lights and escapes the clutches. Except its contrived climax, the movie is an ingenious piece of film making, something I haven't felt for anything in this genre after Babadook. To call it a B-movie would be a mild disservice to something that stood out this year from Hollywood, which has had a fallow 2016 so far.
jagannath.jamma@bsmail.in