Yesterday,
September 21st, I did an almost First
Day, First Show type of thing. I went for the Noon show of the movie The Lunchbox on the day after it was
released. I saw the movie because it came highly recommended by a reviewer. I
do not recall such a kneejerk reaction from me in deciding to go for a movie.
But, I have been rewarded. I enjoyed the movie thoroughly.
Please
understand that the reasons for my appreciation of the movie, in all
likelihood, will not run parallel to the reasons it has been acclaimed for on
the award circuit (indeed I came to know about its reception elsewhere when I
googled to find out the movie’s official title, The Lunch Box or The Lunchbox).
Yes,
there is a love story, of a particular type, sensitive and highly nuanced, that
tenses the audience but that is not why I appreciated the movie. Yes, there was
the Roman Holiday touch – you knew
this was not going to happen. Yet, as much a sucker for that movie that I am, that
is not the reason I fell in love with
this movie.
The
movie must be the first time the famous dabbawalas of Mumbai have been shown to
have made a mistake in their much admired delivery system. The very first scene
this was hinted at, I tensed. I was thinking, why should the dabbawalas not take
offence to this. I was thinking they could approach the censor board or the government
with a petition as the movie “insults” them. Earlier I had posted [1] saying
that in Jolly, LLB, policeman had
every reason to take offence at how they were portrayed. Now, I am becoming too
sensitized to other people getting offended! I was happy that I have come to
the movie before any such socio-political action takes the movie back behind
the screens.
But,
perhaps I was too quick to react. Towards the end, the dabbawalas were shown in
a much more positive light. The lady who sends out the lunchbox finally says to
the dabbawala that there has been a mistake. The dabbawala stands his ground; says
that is not possible. He starts mentioning how in Harvard they talked about
Mumbai dabbawalas. He says how Prince Charles talked to them, asking yet
without asking, “What have you got to show me?” This was the scene I liked
best, where the professional pride comes out on top, and that is precisely how
it should be.
This
is when I recalled hearing about the 5 sigma at CERN that decided the fate of
God, that is, His particle exists. Yes, God was determined to exist only
probabilistically! But here, the dabbawala confronts the lady with an
assertion, as deterministic as they come! The movie sits bookended by the
dabbawalas’ operation and operational efficiency.
The
movie ensures that the audience hears good advice, from the “aunty” upstairs
and also from the lonely widower who relishes her food. On the first, the “aunty”
spruces up the lunch recipe, and ironically it is the stranger who gets to eat
this heavenly manna, coming from above, the upstairs “aunty”.
On
the bad advice, the loner advises the lady to get going and get pregnant to
make her marriage work better. A child as a repair mechanic! I am sure each and
every marriage counselor in the audience worth her/his salt would have been
horrified, or at least have winced. Mercifully, nothing happened that evening.
Bad advice gone wrong – good! There is also an implicit good advice from the filmmaker, through the mouth of the female lead's soon-to-be-widowed mother, "Had your brother not died, I will not worry so much about your father passing away. I would not need to ask others for help." The alienation of the mother from her married daughter is too obvious to miss. We know where the filmmaker's sympathy lies.
I
am keeping the opening scene for the last. The lady of the house gets her child
ready for school. Just listen to the advice the kid receives as she is being
dressed up, “Don’t play under the tree. You never know when it would fall on
you, do you? You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
This
is what we have come to. We need safety, safety and more safety. What next: “Don’t
study inside the classroom. You never know when an earthquake will hit, do you?
…”? I understand the concern of the parents (as I am not a parent, I will
criticize this only from a distance), but the director makes sure the audience connects
with the incongruence of a child advised not to play under the tree, out of
concern for her safety.
In
probability, we have the concept of black swan. White swans being the norm, a
black swan sits at the extreme, how many ever sigmas removed. Yet it exists.
The story lies in that range. Yet, I call it a gray swan, for the simple
reason the movie lets you hanging your tongue out, for The Lunchbox II. No, I am not that cheap, but I said that because the
director leaves you wanting more. No loose ends are tied up neatly, indeed tied
up at all. We have only a few characters, yet there is uncertainty about the
trajectories of their lives, of all of them.
As
you may have inferred from the above, the movie was good for me for reasons
very different from those for which it was appreciaetd by most movie critics, as I read on Wikipedia [2]. This
is the irony – I went to the movie because a critic said it was good. I came
out appreciating it for altogether different reasons. Different strokes for different
folks.
The
last word I heard as I got out of the cinema hall: “Kya bekaar movie!” –
different strokes for different folks.
Raghuram
Ekambaram
References
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