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Saturday, April 20, 2024
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BOLLYWOOD RUKH
EDITOR'S PICK
'Rukh': Riveting with fine performances (Review By Troy Ribeiro ;
Rating: ***)
Rukh, which means direction, has been astutely used as a metaphor in debutant
director Atanu Mukherjee's film.
But, on the face of it, the film is about a son's quest to know the truth about
his father's death. It is his internal journey.
Three years after being rusticated from his school for ruthlessly injuring his
classmate, Dhruv Mathur finds himself at a loose end when he hears of his
father's accident and subsequent death. Not that he has a strong bond with his
father, but then how the death and accident is hushed up by everyone, including
his mother is what makes him and the audience curious.
Following his own instincts, Dhruv tries to investigate his father Diwakar's
accident and in the process, he comes across some home truths; that his father
was "a good man, a man of his word," and that he was under pressure for want of
funds because his best friend and business partner Robin (Kumud Mishra) had
betrayed him.
Now that Robin is trying to frame his dead father in a money laundering scam,
makes him assume that his father's accident was staged and that he was actually
murdered. With this preconceived notion, he sets out on a journey of redemption
and self-reconciliation.
Set in a melancholic tone, "Rukh" excels as a fine example of a neo-realism
film. It subtly captures the time and the current political scenario with
flourish. But the screenplay by Akash Mohimen and Atanu Mukherjee, falls short
in its endeavour as it pursues to convert the drama into a mystery thriller. The
wrinkles in the mystery quotient seem forced and is probably what sets in the
irritant factor.
But what makes the film fulfilling are the performances. Manoj Bajpayee is too
passive a character to leave much of an impression. But he leaves his mark in a
scene opposite Kumud Mishra, who plays Robin, where both of them accuse each
other of extracting their pound of flesh.
Kumud is a charismatic actor, but as the slimy Robin, he is deadpan, yet
effective. Smita Tambe as Nandini, Dhruv's mother, is realistic and relatable.
Adarsh Gourav is a compelling actor. He portrays Dhruv's anguish and anger with
flourish, while being obsessed with unearthing the mystery shrouding his
father's death. Those are the only two emotions the script allows him to
display. His backstory seems forced, just inserted in a formulaic fashion to
build his character.
The others in the supporting cast like Jayant - Diwakar's accountant, Hassan and
Shinde - Diwakar's labourers and Amit - Dhruv's friend, have their moments of on
screen glory. Each one of them is natural and they standout for their soulful
delivery.
On the technical front, the production design is simply realistic and
awe-inspiring. Pooja Gupte's camera work seems to be non-intrusive making the
entire viewing experience natural.
The two songs, "Hai Baaki" and "Khidki", along with the background score by Anjo
John, merge well with the narrative elevating the viewing experience.
Overall, despite a few blemishes, "Rukh" is a film that keeps you riveted.
'Rukh' is comfortable with its stillness (Review By Subhash K Jha ;
Rating: *** 1/2 )
It is very difficult, if not altogether impossible, to get to the core of the
suffering so resolutely trapped in the hearts of the characters in "Rukh". No
one, least of all the 18-year-old protagonist, is willing to reveal more of
their emotions than they feel like. You won't find Dhruv shedding too many tears
over his father's sudden death.
There is too much to be done, too many unanswered questions to be addressed,
before the day is over. Don't hang around if Dhruv's undramatic trust with grief
leaves you impatient. Unlike "Masaan" (from the same producers as "Rukh"),
"Rukh" doesn't wallow in its grief-stricken predicament.
Ironically, for a film steeped in and impressed by its own ability to stay
secure in its silences, "Rukh" is remarkably active at its core. We don't see
much of that activity on the surface where the people in "Rukh" see themselves
as neither victims nor aggressors.
A feeling of imminent danger hovers over the narrative. There are characters
plotting the downfall of others, and their own. The characters have dark secrets
that they don't want revealed. But nothing really happens. Not while we watch.
In rapt attention, I might add.
This is a film that magnetizes our attention, not through its action but by its
absence. This partiality for inaction, the deprivation of live energy as though
everything that has to happen has already happened or will happen while we are
not watching, is a refreshing departure from what cinema has come to mean in
present times.
As Dhruv sets out to unfold the truth behind his father's death, the narrative
suffers no anxiety pangs. There are no concerted attempts to hold our attention.
The pace of storytelling often slackens, bringing in characters who don't always
add up the way they are meant to in cinema about real situations,heaving and
groaning to a near-halt as the rites of serendipity envelope the characters in a
shroud of doubt and unexpressed fear.
Dhruv's journey is never saddled with aggravated poignancy. There is a basic
bereavement in the theme which the debutant director and his co-writers (Akash
Mohimen, Vasan Bala) don't touch. Atanu Mukherjee enjoys the slackening of
tension as the protagonist pieces together the broken fragments of his father's
life. The editor (Sanglap Bhowmick) takes his time seeking the quintessence of
hurt and healing.
There is a frustrating scarcity of shared time between father Manoj Bajpai and
son Adarsh Gourav. We always HEAR of their affinity, their differences and their
mutual tension, never experience it first-hand. Suffice it to feel, the two
actors bring a wealth of empathy between them, in spite of little shared screen
space. Bajpai as the crashed-out patriarch conveys the burden of a man felled by
his humanism. And Smita Tambe playing a grieving widow and a tight-lipped mother
is well, grieving and tight-lipped.
Kumud Mishra as Bajpai's business partner shows how much history a competent
actor brings to bear on his character even when his part is sketchily-written.
His colleagues at his workplace are played by equally competent actors.
This is an endemic problem in "Rukh". It is so deeply inured in enigma that it
leaves the characters emotions largely unexpressed. Unshed tears are fine. But
sometimes you just need them to moisten the spirit of sorrow that envelopes the
narrative. And goodness, why is everyone so sullen in the film? Young Adarsh
Gourav doesn't get to smile even once, working his way around his character's
insecurities offering us a peep into Dhruv's soul even when he is bogged down by
his inability to connect with the outside world.
Though "Rukh" is finally felled by its characters' frustrations, it is a brave
effort to dispel with the belief that all cinema about sudden deaths must be
loud and dramatic. "Rukh" takes the opposite route, happily allowing us to
strain to hear the sound of the young protagonist's broken heart.
Composer Amit Trivedi, whose new track "Hai baaki" for the film "Rukh", is dedicated to the father-son bond, says he was thinking about his relationship with his father while composing the track.Read More
