Saying Goodbye with ‘Gandhadagudi’
[Contains mild spoilers for the movie.]
Walking into the theatre to watch ‘Gandhadagudi,’ I had no idea what to expect. I hadn’t seen a single trailer or review, as the death of Puneeth Rajkumar was still recent enough in my heart to feel fresh. Painful. The last time I saw one of his movies must have been way before 2010, but I have always adored him from a distance, the way we do with the heroes of our youth. However many days have passed, meeting them on the big screen always feels like meeting an old friend — no time has passed at all, and every exchange leaves you smiling.
In that sense, it’s hard to grieve a childhood hero. The idea that ‘Appu’ is, in fact, mortal feels wrong. However, one thing is for sure: for those like me who were grieving, Gandhadagudi is a spectacular way to get closure.
At the heart of it, Gandhadagudi follows Dr Puneeth Rajkumar’s journey across wild Karnataka, discovering the many wonders of his homeland under the guidance of director Amoghavarsha. Puneeth’s childlike wonder, his simplicity, and his impish humor are all so familiar and intimate, you forget yourself and become one of the crew. In one scene, when Amoghavarsha drags him to see a dancing frog, he jokes, “I dance to put food on the table. What do these guys have to dance for?”
Puneeth has lived his entire life on the big screen since he was six months old and throughout the movie, he never lets you forget it. He shares anecdotes almost offhandedly — one time, he acted with a herd of elephants. Another time, with a snake. Watching the star disclose his experiences as a childhood actor is awe-inspiring; while he donned many disguises during the years, perhaps the biggest role he was constantly playing in his career was himself. ‘Puneeth’ is as much a character as ‘Appu,’ or ‘Aakash’ and it feels apt that in his last movie, we get to say goodbye to the real him, not just the one that dances or sings or plays a joke for our entertainment. When he expresses his dreams to see an elephant and a tiger up close, almost shyly, you can’t help but see ‘Puneeth,’ and nobody else.
While the charisma of the people had its charm, Gandhadagudi‘s wildlife cinematography deserves special mention. Amoghavarsha’s expertise shines clearly through each stunning shot, taking us through rivers, forests, islands, and even the rural side of Karnataka that has managed to remain unexplored and undiscovered. As a nod to growing conversations about climate change, the film touches upon wildlife awareness and responsibility as the need of the hour. The larger-than-life star makes it clear that these issues, too, are larger than life.
The most praiseworthy aspect of the movie’s moralizing, however, is the nuance with which it handles human-animal conflict. In the recent years, there have been many cases of humans and animals facing deadly encounters with each other over shared land. Many have blamed human beings for their greed and overpopulation, as is the common tune these days when it comes to pointing fingers. In fact, most conversations of ‘blame’ are always ignited by city-dwellers, who do not fully understand the challenges of rural wildlife conservation, and whose philosophy has always been harsh towards villagefolk, whom they consider to be uneducated, and therefore reckless with wildlife.
The movie, however, acknowledges that human beings and animals have been trying to maintain a delicate balance for years and that sometimes, this maintenance is messy and not at all easy. Alongside the need for conservation, the movie very rightfully mentions the struggles faced by the forest department and villagers in handling these conflicts in a justified way. The depth of research is remarkable, and handles a complex issue without oversimplifying any of its facets. Rather, it leaves us with the confirmation that the ones living there are, in fact, the experts.
Towards the end, you realize that the film is an ode not just to Puneeth’s life and career, but to Karnataka itself, though both have become synonymous due to the influence of the mighty Rajkumar family. Seeing Puneeth live out his bucket list feels poignant, knowing that a year later he would meet his fated end.
However, when we said goodbye at the end of the film, it did not hurt as much as I anticipated it would. I took comfort in the fact that like the flowing rivers, his legacy would live on forever.
