'The Gift' -Netflix watch - why I want to talk about it

I watched a movie called ‘The Gift’ yesterday. And ever since I have been itching to talk about it. Without going into the details about who plays what and how, and all the things that seem less important to me right now, I would dive straight into the heart of the story. Here is how the film begins. And excuse me if my biases show a little, since the sight of a beautiful property on screen (and otherwise too), makes me go slightly weak on my knees. So needless to say, the film got me hooked from the very first scene.

A married couple, I would assume, in their mid-thirties, is being shown an impressive property in the suburbs of California by a seasoned broker. The little information she throws here and there about the house, the polite conversation she makes while walking them through the rooms, how she points out the important features of the house, is revealing of the director’s attention to detail which is evident throughout the film.

Robyn and Simon, the couple, move base to California from Chicago to start over a new life. We are not told the why of it yet. Simon tells the broker he found a job in this new city and that he is excited about it. And, that, he had lived in these parts of the country before. While we are told Robyn’s roots are in Chicago, her credentials are revealed only when she is introduced to Simon’s colleagues over an office party. And Simon’s over-the-top validation of Robyn’s freelance home design projects come off sounding more like a pep talk, which leaves Robyn mostly embarrassed. The hours when Simon is in office, Robyn jogs, plays with her dog, and cooks dinner, and on few occasions, visits her friendly neighbor. In one of her solitary moments at home, she fishes out a crib mobile from one of the unpacked cartons lying around the house. About which we get to learn more when she tells her neighbor that, she was pregnant a year back, but that ‘did not have a happy ending.’ And leaves it at that, saying, ‘will bore you with the details some other time.’

While out shopping, an old friend of Simon, Gordo, walks up to them, and introduces himself, and Simon, after straining his mind for a clue, recognizes him as his old buddy from school. They exchange numbers and promise to catch up. The next thing the couple knows is, Gordo has sent them a card and Champaign as a welcome gesture, and quite unexpectedly, one afternoon, he shows up himself at their doorsteps. Out of courtesy, and probably for company, Robyn invites him and asks him to stay over for dinner, while they wait for Simon to get back from work. At dinner table, Gordo gets carried away in his slightly drunken stupor, and blabbers a great deal about Simon’s reputation of being some sort of a hero back in school. ‘Because Simon says so’, is his chosen phrase to prove him point. And the animated conversation remains mostly one sided, with Robyn, who seems to be the only other person enjoying it. While it leaves Simon awkward, and slightly irked, which he expresses by indicating Robyn to stop filling Gordo’s glass with more wine. Once Gordo leaves, Simon shares that the dinner had been a very ‘awkward’ one for him. And that, Gordo used to be known for being odd, and was often referred to as a ‘weirdo.’ And Robyn, counters him by saying she can be like that sometimes socially, and suggests that this was a one off and that, they don’t have to do it again.

Simon’s confidence at work and how he scales great heights in his new job suggest how successful he is at whatever he does, if their house in a posh neighborhood doesn’t speak of it already. Robyn, on the other hand, seems to be struggling with something. An irrevocable past that took her child from her, a low self-esteem, despite her elegant physical attributes and an above average IQ. A loving husband, but a busy one. These could very well be the reasons why she finds it easy to empathize with Gordo, who, as it turns out, did not make a great life for himself. And the film cleverly plays with Robyn’s arc, by making her somewhat melancholic and having a propensity for the odd and the neglected. And on one instance, when she sneaks out pills from her neighbor’s restroom, we are introduced to another aspect of her past she is trying to get rid of.

As Gordo’s visits, cards, and gifts start to pick up, and he starts making himself useful around the house in Simon’s absence, Robyn seems to be surprised at his generosity, but doesn’t doubt his intentions for once. While Simon is steadfast in his belief that they should be concerned about Gordo walking into their property whenever he fancies. In a particularly odd but funny setting, Simon suggests that Gordo has his eyes set on Robyn, and that he has enough reasons to believe he is completely smitten by her and wants to take Simon’s place.  And Robyn laughs it off hard enough to indicate the absurdity of his accusations and his hilarious impersonation of Gordo. 

So far, through various events and situations, the film gives its viewers enough fodder to arrive at some conclusions of their own. But still manages to leave things beautifully sketchy and the secrets are safely intact. As the mystery of Gordo’s intentions, Simon’s concerns, and Robyn’s position are revealed, we are in for some unexpected turns in the story, which mostly leave us at the edge of our seats. Calling it a revenge drama will be over-simplifying the film. Because at its core, the film asks some pertinent questions. Questions such as - how much of what the eyes meet is true, or, what might appear ‘normal’ can be unusual. And what is often termed as ‘mad’, can be sane. In that sense, the film lends a voice to those people who stand on the periphery and are often silenced. And most importantly, ‘how an idea can hold ground’, if it is powerful enough, and can make or ruin people’s lives. It can also be a commentary on how an irresponsible act done in the past, can have disastrous consequences. And what happens when a bad attitude, if not curbed at the right time, can become detrimental to oneself and to others. And that, how a heartfelt plea for forgiveness could sometimes be one’s last shot at setting everything right.

‘The Gift’ was a riveting watch not just for the important messages it sends out, but for the impressive way in which that is achieved. The director doesn’t lose sight of his goal at any point, yet never hurries us though any of the scenes. Whether the eeriness created though the rustle of keys, dead fish in the artificial pond, or the couple’s pet dog going missing, the film excels in keeping a sense of foreboding running till the end. The end was particularly appealing to me. By denying a closure to its characters, the film achieves the poetic justice anticipated in a story like this one. The end left me feeling oddly satisfied. 

The usual me...not

Ever so often, I disappear. I vanish, without a trace. And allow this space to collect the virtual cobwebs. And with the same brazen abruptness, I make a sudden appearance, and catch you in the middle of something. And feign a casual air about the long and awkward silence I often subject this place to. I act like all this is normal – this coming and going. But I return, because I am assured that these erratic visits have become a part of a ritual now. An unspoken bond that you and I have formed. An understanding - that doesn’t demand any explaining. An assurance - that thrives on the knowledge that, ‘life’ comes in the way, and focus, like other things, gets pushed away. So with that score settled, here is another attempt to keep the words flowing...to keep the story going.

I remember last time I left you with me gushing over a movie that I had immensely liked. That was roughly two months ago. I must have enjoyed it so much that I saw to it that the word spreads steadily around. Particularly because the movie had not made it to the tier one cities in India. And that information had killed me. And I passed on the ‘link’ (horror!) to the film like I was getting paid for it. And I remember I chuckled with satisfaction when friends left notes saying that they had watched the film based on my review, and had really liked it. And then I seem to have forgotten all about it, and drifted to other things, and abandoned this space yet another time with a callousness that comes so naturally to me. And even if I take solace in knowing that this sporadic blogging is a common trait with our brood, I do feel obliged to do some explaining.

So what kept me busy all this while you ask? I really wish I had an answer as impressive as my vanishing acts, but alas! I would have to disappoint you, and say that, my life continues to be as sedated as the last time you checked on me. Expect that, I went out quite a bit (strictly by my standards), stuffed my face with all kind of food, met with new people, got invited for dinners, made dinner plans, some guests visited, retail therapy ruled the roost, read some great books that I had picked at a dream book-sale, some of my potted plants survived the summer, some couldn’t withstand the severe spread of a powdery fungus that took the life out of my chilies and tomatoes. And my heart bled and wept while giving them a funeral when I finally let them go. I took part in festivals I had never been part of before, and then, I even wrote a little, scribbled rather, every now and then. Wrote full-fledged book reviews.  Now that was progress in my book. Because it turned out to be lot different from reviewing manuscripts as an Editor at some point in my life. And demanded lot more patience than writing a quick Goodreads review which I had done ample times. And I took to Twitter to share them because I needed closure (and validation).  But was too chicken to share it on this platform. But what I hadn’t expected was to stumble upon an amazing world of bloggers over Twitter, that gave me access to a thriving world of creative writers. Witnessing this tribe encourage each other with writing prompts and story ideas was inspiring to say the least. This seemed to have done wonders for me, it kept me focused and got me into a reading and writing cycle. Occasional frustration with writing was natural, particularly when there were huge lapses between the first and the last chapter of a book I was reading, thanks to duty-calls. But I was just grateful for my days falling into a routine where I was more productive than usual. More importantly, I could shut out nursery rhymes on loop, and keep hazardous cups of imaginary tea from my girl’s pantry at bay. It was like I was growing wings, and was about to fly!

Everything looked bright and sunny till the month of August made its grand entry. And as you know it, August translates to Birthdays, and Birthdays mean August in my life. Hence without saying much, you understand that the pattern I had fallen into started to fizzle out even before I could fully embrace it, and got replaced with ‘chaos’ and ‘planning’ (of all kinds) for the daughter’s second birthday, that was leading up to be the friends’ reunion party too. The celebration went on for two weeks. The holiday weekend following the birthday weekend made room for a longish party. And goes without saying, there was not a single dull moment to kick my feet up on a chair, and recap the events in my head that whizzed by like snapshots. Towards the end of the second weekend, when the last guests were saying their goodbyes, entered an unexpected guest from the backyard door - Hurricane Irma. ‘Hurricane August’ was not enough apparently. And in a matter of a day, leaving everything behind as they were (scattered), we fled for our lives as evacuation warnings started to buzz in the state of Florida, and drove across three states in search of a safe haven. And when things had normalized, we got back to base, and heaved a sigh of relief to find that the house was in one piece. And the next day my brother and sis-in-law dropped by on their way back from a vacay. And we realized the holiday mood got extended by two more days. So you get that saying my hands were full last few days would be a gross understatement. And you do realize that I am bursting at my seams with stories that you wouldn’t hear the end of. But for now, this will have to do. In between the madness, I made two trips to the movie theatre too. A big bold event in my motherhood calendar. Both turned out to be mediocre movies, but that was hardly my concern. This was baby girl’s first ever theatre visit, and I was on my seat’s edge to run out lest she showed her true colors, and brought the roof down. But to her credit, she was most well-behaved, except singing ‘good-morning’ to her heart’s fill close to midnight, and glaring at the screen only when it would break into a song. I could go on and on, there’s so much to pour out, but I want you to come back for more. Till the next post then, adios amigos.

A Death in the Gunj - A Review

After waiting for almost over a month, I finally got to watch Konkona Sen Sharma's directorial debut, 'A Death in the Gunj’, and without a doubt, this is one of the most compelling films I have seen in a while. Its story is so intricately woven, and operates on so many levels, that I could pull out all my hair trying to explain it. But if a film has left me feeling this way, I must make an effort.

This film is set in the McCluskieganj of 1970s, and comfortably straddles between English, Hindi, and Bengali. It transports you to an era, when handwritten letters and trunk-calls were in fashion, and when holidays meant wandering in the woods, bonding over matches of chess and kabaddi, and even getting silly over summoning the dead spirits.

The story of ‘A Death in the Gunj’, opens on a rather discordant note, with two people debating over the best possible way for a dead body to fit into the back of a car. With this gripping start, the director gently moves on to talk about the events that took place a week prior to this. And the screen breaks into a rickety blue ambassador beating down the broken roads of McCluskieganj. And it stops right infront of the rambling old house of Mr. and Mrs. Bakshi, played with characteristic flair by Om Puri and Tanuja. The arrival of Bobby, the old couple’s daughter, along with her husband and daughter, Nandu and Tani, lights up the family house on a cold December night. They are joined on this reunion by a younger cousin, Shutu, and old family friends, Vikram, Mimi, and Brian.

Soon this motely group of people break into the clamor of family bon-homie which is the backbone of every happy reunion. And the director does an impressive job of creating a camaraderie that is very relatable, where dialogues tumble over each other, with everyone talking enthusiastically at the same time. They soon immerse themselves into activities to while away time, and we are given a sneak-peek into their lives. But when this seemingly harmonious group of people are pitted against each other, friction creeps in, and breaks the deceptive harmony. And the tension gets heightened because of a calmness that runs through these events, and this infuses an element of eeriness in the story.

At the heart of ‘A Death in the Gunj’, is Shutu, played with an affable charm by Vikrant Massey. He’s the 23 year old cousin who finds himself unadjusted in the adult world. Not being able to survive a world filled with assured and confident adults, he seeks comfort in the company of Tani. A foil to Shutu’s character is Vikram (Ranvir Shorey), the brash and flamboyant family friend, whose arrival stirs up things as he rekindles his old spark with Mimi (Kalki Koechlin), the unapologetically free-spirited girl, who’s every man’s desire. With such contrasting characters, and extreme dynamics, sparks are bound to fly, and even before we know it, these situations take unexpected turns, and the characters suffer hurt and humiliation. And failing to handle this emotional upheaval, they go about hurting each other. For instance, Shutu’s insecurities are badgered by Nandu, through a seemingly innocent act of giving him driving lessons. And a fun match of kabaddi takes an ugly turn, with Vikram coming down heavily on Shutu to a point where he leaves him bleeding.

Although these incidents are a build-up towards Shutu’s story, each character has a significant role to play to carry the story forward, and they are given enough screen presence to shine. Of them all, Om Puri, who plays the goofy old Mr. Bakshi, who simply bobs in and out of scenes in his drunken stupor, is my personal favorite. Without saying or doing much, he carves a special place for his character in the film.

Adding up to all this, are the film’s soundtracks, that wonderfully enhance the changing climate of the story. Konkana’s attention to detail is another thing that makes this film a riveting watch. Whether it is young Tani, touching the bride’s saree in admiration, while her mother pleads her to refrain from it, or a piece of paper slipping from under the leg of a chair, while two adults respond to their impulsive desires over a drunken night. Or Shutu, finding dried moths inside frayed pages of old family books, or a servant licking a ladle laden with pudding, this film excels in creating these moments that enrich its texture.

There is a scene in the film, where Shutu and Tani, in one of their many trails in the woods, set ablaze a fly with a magnifying glass. To me, this scene in a lot of way, is the essence of the film – of looking at life’s foibles and frailties through a magnifying lens without fearing about its consequences.

In my unabashed display of admiration for the film, I had taken to twitter the other day, and there I found somebody saying that, ‘this film should be made a mandatory watch in film schools.’ And I found myself agreeing with it. Because, if there is one thing that this film does, besides enthralling you, is that, it leaves you wondering about the ways in which this feat has been achieved. And then you are reminded of the fine actress that stands tall behind this remarkable director.