Njaan

An experimental venture at synching the media of cinema and theatre and of developing a play within the reel, Njaan from Ranjith Balakrishnan is an experience, very different from almost all his other movies.

I got to watch it last Saturday at the Bangalore International Film Festival and if you were to ask me what’s best about the movie, I would say, the cast, hands down! The characters were chosen sensibly and chosen right. Subtlety is Ranjith’s hallmark expression and he does it sublimely. There are no power-packed dialogues, no far- too- colourful song and dance sequences or unrealistic stunts to indicate heights of emotions; instead, the magically subtle and sensual expressions that speak volumes. 

Each one of the characters brought almost their whole selves on to the screen. Dulquar appeared a bit strained, at places, both in his act and in dialogue delivery, but otherwise was endearing and showed a lot of potential. A Prithvi Raj or a Fahad Fazil, would probably not have been able to depict that mix of boyish charm and the helpless state of conflict, as displayed by Dulquar. My favourite part of him is the mirror scene towards the end. Sajitha was another actress who bowled me over. Her energy is infectious and the rawness in her gets you hooked on to her. Just a slight frown of concern when you wonder whether she is being stereotyped: Shutter and now Njaan!

Sensitivity, sensuousness and subtlety; I am yet to read the novel on which the movie is based and  that is next in my reading list, but from what I have heard and read about, the movie only holds the skeleton of the original and has been liberally left to imbibe the Ranjith magic with those three strong weapons from his armour.

Njaan is the story of an ordinary man who failed miserably in his vocation. Was the emphasis on the life of Narayanan Kottoor, the protagonist, an unrequired glorification of a less- than- ordinary life? The question is addressed in the movie, right at the onset, in a way that sets the path for the rest of the story.

Narayanan is richly supported by the women who influence and decide the course of his life at every phase. The woman in myriad stages of expression is the strongest element in Njaan. Her scent is felt all through the movie. From Kunjooli whose breastmilk nourished Narayanan, the innocent and trusting Janu in her throes of child-death, to the silent woes of the clairvoyant Lakshmikutty, you could feel, see, hear and smell the woman and be enarmoured by her resilience. Be it the older ones or the younger lot; irrespective of caste or creed, the women stood by her men folk whether they found them right or wrong. A friend who I watched the movie with, was wondering why we should portray weakness in these days of strength for women. Earlier too, we had so many bold ones who had broken shackles and spoken up. But here in Njaan the weakness is deceptive. The strength in enduring is powerful: These women are ”the gate keepers of darkness in their houses”. They do it not out of choice, but yet, you could never tell.

To have someone ordinary and not so luminous form the centre of a story and have it carry forward is a brave attempt and the success of the movie depends on the execution of that bold task. I would agree that there is not much of a novelty in the theme chosen and I could feel traces of Palerimaanikkam, a previous Ranjith movie (based on another novel of the same author) in Njaan too. But the approach to the treatment of the movie is what I found refreshing. The Shakespearean influence in the areas of character depiction (Sharadedathi who dies of a guilt- ridden heart on the bathroom floor after trying to wash off the blood from her hands in vain is reminiscent of Lady Macbeth) is just one of the brilliant instances of the theatrical influence  that the movie carries along with it.  Though, the connect between the two strained at places and failed at times to flow smooth, the attempt was exciting. The story is discussed upon and unveiled as the reel keeps rolling. The engagement amongst the theatre group within the movie to figure out the person that Kottoor was and what would have prompted him to do what he did, is an example of this amazing approach to involve the audience in  developing the character as the movie went along; thereby, almost, evoking a poetic license in interpreting Kottoor and his journey.

The portrayal of various faces of feminine sensibilities, the use of the more ”engaging” theatre as a platform within the movie to trace the growth of the protagonist, the poetic strains of folk songs to take the story forward as an expression, the effective cinematography which effortlessly swept the past from the present and the other way around are my strongest reasons to recommend Njaan to lovers of good cinema.