BLACK MAGIC!

BY SAIBAL CHATTERJEE

It is rather strange that some Indian critics use the word “flawed” so frequently. Aren’t the run-of-the-mill Hindi films that they review day in and day out filled with flaws, flaws and more flaws? Weaned on muck, these reviewers are unable to spot perfection when it comes their way out of the blue. That is perhaps why one worthy has actually described Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Black as flawed. Give me a break!

Black is a dazzling cinematic achievement. Both in terms of the scale of its technical virtuosity and of the enormity of its dramatic impact, Bhansali’s meticulous labour of love is blocks, streets and localities ahead of any Bollywood film that we have ever seen. Black is a film that pleases the eye, activates the tear-ducts, excites the mind, warms the heart and touches the soul in one grand sweep.

Finally, Bollywood has found a worthy successor to the mantle left behind by the likes of Bimal Roy, Guru Dutt and Raj Kapoor. Bhansali has taken a while in coming, but better late than never. Finally, we have a truly world-class film and not just another Oscar winner wannabe.

Indeed, Black has the potential of doing to Mumbai films what Satyajit Ray’s epochal Pather Panchali did to Indian cinema five decades ago – yank it away from its mediocre moorings and teach it how to soar above the mundane. But are we, easy-to-please souls weaned on fluffy romances and run-of-the-mill action flicks, really ready for the revolution?

Having been witness to some authentic Black magic, I am willing to put that question on hold. Let us just savour the moment – in fact, the multiplicity of enchanting moments that makes Black such a treat. Black is a marvellous amalgam of high-quality technique, wonderful storytelling and top-notch acting.

This intense drama of a tremulous human life wrapped in complete darkness is endowed with an ennobling and uplifting quality that helps it break free from the ersatz emotions that are usually peddled by popular Hindi cinema.

Bhansali pushes his actors to the limits of their abilities and endurance, and both Amitabh and Rani respond with an amazing degree of expertise and flexibility. Rani Mukherjee is Michelle McNally, a deaf, mute and blind girl who is led into the penumbra of light and hope by an alcoholic, temperamental teacher of special children, Debraj Sahay, played with awesome dexterity and authority by Amitabh Bachchan.

By giving Mumbai cinema its first deaf and blind screen character, Bhansali’s film actually represents a return to the roots of cinema as a medium, where meanings and emotions were conveyed through facial expressions, body language and universal human situations, rather than through words, songs, dance and spectacle. Rani’s character is consciously given Charlie Chaplin’s gait – a point reinforced by the posters of films like The Kid and Gold Rush that are visible on the walls of the recreated Gaiety Theatre, Shimla as Michelle’s ambles past. Way to go, SLB!

Bee Gee's note: Saibal Chatterjee is a New Delhi-based writer on movies who has worked in publications like The Times of India, The Telegraph and Outlook. He is currently working on a biography of Gulzar, and has also been part of the jury for the National Awards. The guy has done quite a bit actually, considering he will be 50 in another decade or so.