REVIEW: Natarang

DANCE LIKE A MAN

For the sheer vigour of Atul Kulkarni’s astounding physical transformation, Natarang is a splendid film. But more so, because it’s one of the most assured directorial debuts one has seen in recent times. Unlike many offbeat Marathi films that suffer for want of budgets, Natarang has the texture of a polished production and a solid visual design. Ravindra Jadhav adapts a novel by Dr. Anand Yadav into an intricate narrative about one man’s obsession with his art and the repercussions it has on his life. This theme is woven around the fascinating world of tamasha artists in Maharashtra, a travelling band of performers who live on the fringes of society but enjoy a huge following in rural parts.

Guna (Atul Kulkarni) is a lowly farmhand leading a hand-to-mouth existence, with an unbridled passion for the tamasha. It drives him to distraction to the chagrin of his helpless wife and nagging father who’s constantly trying to drag him back on the path of domesticity. But beneath Guna’s strapping exterior lurks an artist dying to find expression. So he squanders all the money he can on the folk art that’s unknowingly sucking him into its surreal world. It’s the practical threat of losing his livelihood (due to the advent of modern technology in the village) that forces him to make a decision, to form his own troupe and write his own songs. This in itself is cause enough to alienate him from his family and community. Worse, he reluctantly thwarts his dream of playing ‘king’ on stage, to don the mask of an effeminate man with the generic name ‘nachya’ (literally translated as dancer), the comic element that was once an integral part of any tamasha group. Gone is the muscled body and twirled moustache, their place taken by bright lipstick, shapely eyebrows and a distinctly feminine poise. Questions of sexual identity are considered taboo topics and rarely tackled with sensitivity and maturity on screen, particularly in Indian cinema. The plight of Natarang’s tragic protagonist reinforces the adage, ‘appearance maketh a man’. So, although the man underneath the mask remains largely unchanged, the way the world perceives him changes the instant he adopts his new persona.

But such is Guna’s passion, neither alienation nor relentless humiliation can shake his faith. His mentor, played brilliantly by Kishore Kadam, manipulates him at every step to ensure the success of their troupe, and inadvertently pushes him towards disaster. Naina (Sonali) who dances to his songs, loves him, but understands that marrying a nachya would spell the end of her career. Political groups in the region use the tamasha as a pawn in their games of one-upmanship and Guna is caught in the crossfire.

Jadhav treats his characters with compassion. Guna’s wife’s frustration and pain is as real as his own feeling of being trapped in a stifling life. The character Kishor Kadam plays isn’t one-dimensional either. They’re all grappling with emotions and events often beyond their control. Most of all Guna, who must make a tremendous sacrifice to fulfill his dream. Atul Kulkarni’s face lays bare his ravaged soul and his body language assumes the changing hues of Guna’s metamorphosis. Ajay-Atul's music is perhaps the finest I've heard in a Marathi film in years -- both background score and soundtrack mapping this poignant story with pitch-perfect accuracy.

The film’s closing credits are accompanied by a collage of stills depicting real tamasha artists, to the beat of the ubiquitous dholki (drum) that’s at the heart of any laavni performance. Natarang is a fine tribute to this dying tradition.

Comments

[suniti]

Hi,
liked the review. This is a fine production from every angle.
I found the last scene of Guna getting an award ending rather abruptly. Otherwise a wonderful movie.

-suniti