The “2 States” of a story
And a note on book-to-film adaptations
When I settled in to watch 2 States last evening I didn’t expect to enjoy it. Chetan Bhagat’s book is good but the marketing blare surrounding the film was almost kitsch. I am wary of incessant in-your-face messaging. The casting of the lead pair felt unintuitive. Also, book-to-film adaptations are beasts of a dubious nature. But more on that later.
Amazingly, the bubblegum premise of a campus romance inching its way to an intercaste marriage worked yet again. Arjun Kapoor and Alia Bhatt’s protagonist efforts are a pleasant surprise. But alone, they do not justify watching the film. My favorite aspect remains the portrayal of earnest parents trapped in their imaginings of social conformity. Everyone knows that Revathy and Amritha Singh have serious acting props. They bring a relatable view of parenting and are essentially two sides of the same Rupee coin, one worships Carnatic music, the other tandoori chicken. Their screen time, arguably full of the film’s best scenes, is regretfully limited.
The fathers have a handful of lines between them, primarily conveying their disapproval through stone-faced, occasionally hysterical, expressions. How much do actors get paid for silent screen presence? I feel like this is a jealously guarded profession with the highest ROI ever.
Minus the college-based teenybopper songs, the music is lovely. It is nice to see Tamil and Hindi work together in a soundtrack. For director Abhishek Varman this is an ambitious debut. He has made what could in the wrong hands be a mundane screenplay, quite fun to watch. Taking a step back, the film works as well-timed cultural satire as India steps into an election mired in communal issues. What does it say about the nation that intercaste marriage is still a) not the norm and b) grounds for extreme familial drama in 2014?
The film, though entertaining, is far from perfect and does not depart from the book. It felt like watching an obedient kid color within the lines. There is barely any use of creative license here. One way by which the film does distinguish itself from the literary 2 States is by short changing some of the funniest scenes. The arrival of the American-educated groom hopeful for Ananya is laugh-out-loud material in the book. The movie squeezes it in like an obligatory check mark. It also completely skips over Krish’s set up with a Punjabi “kudi” by his mom. Stop editing out hilarity. No bueno.
Finally, enough with the stereotypes already. I went to a Tamil Brahmin friend’s wedding and everyone knew well enough not to eat the banana leaf used to serve meals. This is not another planet. It is just South India. There is also a scene of dowry-downing in the presence of guests at a wedding event. The intent is commendable given that dowry remains a lurking public menace in India, but the delivery is trite. There is a fine line between edutainment and awkwardly questioning the intelligence of your audience.
In sum, the sparring aunties make 2 States worth one watch.
Book-to-film adaptations
I don’t envy the scriptwriters of films based on bestselling books. Imagine the pressure of adapting a cult-stalked series to films that will appease said cult and cult leader. The Harry Potter behemoth is an example. There is one clear advantage though, the books themselves lend to marketing efforts so getting humans into cinema seats isn’t as much of a challenge. This includes television. Game of Thrones was highly anticipated by readers of George R. R. Martin’s epic fantasy novels. Non-readers (raises hand) jumped on the bandwagon soon after launch in April 2011. Last season the show enjoyed over 14 million viewers per episode, all while taking considerable departures from the novels, or so I am told. It’s is not therefore, entirely impossible to build a successful film/series on an established book(s) franchise.
A common theme in my favorite adaptations (The Namesake, Gone With The Wind and Life of Pi) is that while the filmmakers didn't take excessive detours from the original stories, they fleshed out the parts that resonated with the readership on screen. For example, in the Life of Pi a large part of the book was dedicated to following the inner workings of Pi’s mind as his time in the ocean stretches on. It is difficult to portray this on screen. So the film capitalizes on visual advantage to build the relationship between Pi and the tiger and to highlight their vast loneliness. It was long believed that this book could not be filmed. Ang Lee took consecutive pieces of the book that could, with immense effort, be patched together on screen, leaving off the parts that are best served by words. The result was spectacular.
In general though, the field seems skewed against book-to-film makers. Invariably a book will precede the film. When reading at leisure one has time to absorb the story and create a personalized version. Novels rarely register in our minds in the way that authors wrote them to be. We each have our own interpretations. Furthermore, book versus film ingestion can be very different processes. When you shift from tea-sipping, sofa-curled book heaven to a crowded cinema with, if you have my luck, an unhappy child and/or gossip-mongers sitting behind you, the tendency to critique moves up a notch (or ten).
Whether book-to-film adaptations succeed commercially, whether they enrage the original author or pander his/her ego, they are testaments to the incredible effort that filmmakers put behind these projects. I am usually more interested to see a adaptation than a pure film-sourced story. Sometimes I am disappointed. Mostly I walk away with a fresh perspective.
Next on my dream list is Shantaram. Yours?
