A History Of Silence

In which I celebrate my favourite Vidhu Vinod Chopra film.

 

Vidhu Vinod Chopra was 29 years old when he made Khamosh, and to me, coming from a bright young filmmaker flying the independent flag high, the cunning murder mystery always contained elements of wish-fulfilment. Set on a fictional movie set with Sadashiv Amrapurkar as a servile director eager to please everyone (except naturally the writer), the film casts actors as fictional versions of themselves, under their own names: Soni Razdan plays an actress likely to speak in English even if her character won’t; Shabana Azmi plays the kind of heroine who wins successive National Awards and yet acts in a highly commercial melodrama; and Amol Palekar stars as a matinee idol so popular all are bullish about his election prospects. (“MGR, NTR, Palekar!” is the cry, with the leading man heralded as the country’s biggest star.)

With selected theatres currently celebrating 30 years of Vinod Chopra Productions, it is a fine time to revisit Chopra’s gangland masterpiece, Parinda, with many of my generation awestruck as they watch it in theatres for the first time. I was 8 when it originally released. A terrifically taut drama that unspools with ruthless elegance and frequently shocks us, thanks to both cinematic craft and emotional heft, Parinda is unquestionably one of the finest Hindi language films of the last thirty years. But you know that already.

No, this column is about Khamosh, the 1985 film that tells you a lot more about Vinod Chopra than any of his subsequent features. Unravelling with breathless grace, the plot is that of a classic whodunnit, a murder mystery on the sets of a film being shot in a small Kashmir town. Crammed with some of the finest actors in the history of Hindi film — Naseeruddin Shah, Pankaj Kapoor, Ajit Vachchani and Sushma Seth fill out the cast — Khamosh is a wickedly clever thriller with smashing characters, a film impossible to look away from. Chopra, aided by editing goddess Renu Saluja, demonstrates an economy of storytelling currently unfathomable in our overlong cinema, and pours out the simple but compelling plot through minimal rivulets of information even as the narrative chugs along quick as can be: keeping his audience guessing, second-guessing, wondering. Keeping them hooked as he masterfully reels it all in.

It is a stunning ensemble, with Razdan, Azmi and Veerendra Saxena standing out, and top honours won by dazzling Naseer, his intensity and dramatic fury taking not just antagonists but also the film’s very plot by the collar. Pankaj Kapoor, as the producer’s junkie son, is frighteningly fine if a trifle overplayed, while it is amusing to see Sudhir Mishra play Michael, the film’s cameraman. The joy is in the detailing, the on-set snark, the whimsy. Besides the meta-celebration of small-budget cinema and its actors, Khamosh also contains a number of MacGuffins and — in a truly inspired fanboy moment — a marvellous sequence which simultaneously pays tribute to both Psycho and The Godfather.

I have here lamented, in a previous column, our current cinema’s lack of attempts in the whodunnit genre. The heartwarming success of Sujoy Ghosh’s Kahaani — a film more enjoyable for texture than plot — might give the ever-compelling genre a fillip, and one can only hope for more mystery in our movies. And for a few films that learn from Chopra’s lethal masterstroke. As silent — or as silencing — as a guillotine.

~

For your viewing pleasure: Khamosh, in its entirety, on YouTube

First published Mumbai Mirror, April 4, 2012

About these ads

3 Comments

Filed under Column

3 responses to “A History Of Silence

  1. I would probably add here about the idea of making a film over a gripping and classic novels. Actually, to develop an idea from a given story is quite easier. Mark: You need to be creative enough to make it more appealing if you’re adding your bunch of thriller elements. I don’t know if you’ll agree or not but to me the plot of “Kahaani” was more like jinxed at times with no agreeable explanations given to them. Still a fair, fairer (not fairest) attempt to set up the whodunnit flick. According to my observation, novel-based films have always fared better and have been more tempting. If you can’t be Tarantino or Scorsese, you can definitely follow Kubrick’s idea of using novels and turning them into masterpieces.

    One more thing I can’t digest and hence can’t abide is that why don’t the newer generation of directors experiment with films. Awards may not matter but stories may. Profits may not matter but the accolades will boost their confidence to newer heights.

    But let us all lament over the facts and keep walking around that beach has a whole mass playing on shore but no courageous human to explore the ocean…

  2. fattiemama

    ‘Likes’. Wanted to read more. You have such a beautiful way with words.

  3. Kuldip

    Just finished watching it :). Thanks for the reco!
    No mention of “Then there were none” or Gumnaam?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s