Tara Brady
Just when you imagined that
the courtroom drama had no particular place left to go, along comes
Chaitanya Tamhane’s fiendishly clever debut feature.
Narayan Kamble (Sathidar) is a
65-year-old social activist and singer who is part of a troupe that
performs around Mumbai’s less salubrious neighbourhoods. When he is
arrested and charged with inciting a sewage worker to kill himself –
supposedly after listening to one of Kamble’s vaguely socially-minded
songs – defender Vinay Vora (Gomber) takes on the patently ludicrous
case.
But between corrupt police
officials, a ridiculous tort handed down from the Victorian era, a
stickler of a judge (Joshi), and a dogged public prosecutor Nutan
(Geetanjali Kulkarni), the case is not an easy one.
Cinematographer Mrinal Desai
maintains an appropriately static gaze and always lingers a beat longer
than most cameras would dare, a strategy that proves revelatory in every
possible sense. A superficially freewheeling plot jumps between the
carefully realised principal characters: Nutan is a hardworking
mum-of-two who takes her family to immigrant- bashing pantomimes; Vinay
enjoys imported cheese and jazz between social causes; the seemingly
patient judge’s capacity for kneejerk cruelty is revealed is a small,
incredibly disturbing final gesture.
It took first-time director Chaitanya Tamhane three years to complete Court,
a most deserving prize-winner at both Venice and Dublin last year.
Remarkably, he did so using a first-time crew and non-professional
actors, a gamble that has greatly aided the picture’s verisimilitude.
Beneath the studied neo-realism, the careful humanism and the
hustle-bustle of the plot, lies a barbed critique of injustice and a
deeply troubling portrait of what passes for freedom of speech and
artistic expression under Indian democracy.
Human rights soon look like Nutan’s cheeses: a luxury that only the privileged can afford.
Watching how this magnificent,
frequently maddening drama coalesces into a powerful chronicle of gaping
social inequalities and judicial inadequacies, it’s impossible not to
think of the great Indian master Satyajit Ray. There can be no higher
compliment.
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