Sweeter as it Melts!

A Slice of Life!

A deaf and mute protagonist, named after Murphy radio has, for his first flame, a girl called “Shruti” and for his life, an autistic charmer named “Jhilmil” who brings things, all bright and gay, into his life. Interestingly ironical! Anurag Basu’s episodic film is a celebration and felicitation of love. Last week, we have celebrated the relationship of two men who “suffer” “psychological” aberrations in Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish, and this week we delve into the world of two characters who are, otherwise again, marginalized. The common point of reference: liberation. As Jhilmil enjoys the fireflies through the soap bubbles at night, as she looks at the white rat, as she tries to run after the butterfly and as she pampers the “little lamb”, we wonder at the film, “Anurag Basu, Did he who made Kites, made thee?” Animal metaphors run for that sense of liberation, miles away into the world of three people, who can defy conventions, knowingly or unknowingly, and are not “boxed” up in their world of challenges. Barfi, at the end of the day, is a tale of love that doesn’t alter even when “its alteration finds” or “bends with the remover to remove”.

A movie can thrive only on its cast and Barfi proves it again. The lineage of Ranbir Kapoor is deliciously put on fire by the performance of this Ghazab Prem. Smiling all the way is this actor who was once so vehemently criticized for his towel-debut in Sawaariya. He proves his mettle again as he dwells in his world of eloquent silence. Priyanka Chopra delivers a flawless performance, well almost, as autistic Jhilmil. Her movements are Khan-inspired, but her vibrancy and innocence light up the second-half. But cheers to this lady called Ileana D’Cruz. As the sutradhar of the film, she is a natural talent throughout. Her charming smile, her saree-clad appearances and her endearing calmness on that face add to her performance. Basu surely deserves praise for this wonderful search.

Barfi is a delight to the senses. Acoustically, the background score and the music are its assets. The orchestra that lingers in the camera-frame now and then, reminding you of Basu’s Metro, is as tasty as the bite of a kaju-Barfi. Pritam has always the best for two people in Bollywood, Emran Hashmi and Anurag Basu. Barfi is no exception. And yes, Darjeeling, Ghoom to be precise and Kolkata streets perhaps never looked so ethereal in the recent past. North Bengal’s flora is captured brilliantly in Barfi and Chhau dance and Jhilmil’s dream sequence are indeed a mid-Autumn's evening’s dream! Thanks to Ravi Varman, who weaves magic throughout the one fifty minutes of the saga of love. A particular scene just flashes across my mind: Jhilmil hides in Barfi’s room, her face lightens in the close up and on the other side of the screen in Barfi, enlightened on his own, lightened by the D.O.P, making the moment, and the frame, surreal. As Ghoom, (Sleep in English), the film surely sets a space for a nostalgia driven, lotos-eaten slumber, as we move with the protagonists on the roads of Kolkata, and through the alleys of the hill station, trying to find a destination away from the crossroads of life and its trials.

Barfi redefines film-making. The lack of a story becomes the art for storytelling for the director, the lack of dialogues become a panorama of silence and the lack of effort on the part of the actors become a seamless and rhythmic flow of emotions on the screen. To add to the performances are veteran Haradhan Bandopadhyay’s Daju, Roopa Ganguly and the brilliant Saurabh Shukla, who returns to screen after a long hiatus, I guess. His encounters with Chaplinesque Barfi are breath-taking.

This movie is an addiction for sure. For two challenged lives who fail to judge the pros and cons while falling in love, life becomes a fairy tale. Barfi is more of a fantasy than a film. After a long time, a film that doesn’t provide a premise for mushy romance actually makes you weep: not on the frailties of the characters, but on the lack of simplicity in our lives. Basu never merges on the intellect, nor does he philosophize, yet simple truths are so faultlessly offered in the film. Only if the continuous stretch of flashback narrative could have been avoided and the duration of the film rendered a few minutes less, the film would not have dragged in the second-half. But that’s okay. For those who have a tooth for sweet Barfis, the lengthier the barfi, the better!

Cashews, almonds, groundnuts and pistachios, all grounded together by the director here, who has taken the “risk” to tread on his own path. After all, “life mein sabse bada risk hota hai kabhi koi risk na lena” and hats off Mr. Artist, for the courage.

Diabetic, anyone? Try a bite of Barfi, in the pre-Puja session, let it melt in your mouth till you crave for another one.