Cast of a new dialogue
At a not-so-recent Tuluva gathering, actor Sunil Shetty praised the Bunt community for overcoming early obstacles outside of their villages. He was obviously referring to those who moved to greener pastures (read: Bangalore, Bombay, etc) in the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s so as to send money back home. He allegoried how old members from his community collected the stones thrown at them by the locals and built tiny restaurants out for themselves. That particular part of his speech attracted the loudest applause from the crowd.
My mind automatically raced to the above incident after watching the Tamil film Pariyerum Perumal (2018) because the theme of this must-match movie is opportunity. Or should we say, the lack of it? Set in contemporary times where caste more than just divides — it has no qualms about killing the outsider — the tale depicted in this 150-minute drama compels you to ask yourself very important questions: Where are you? Is the anti-septic, air-purified bubble of yours comfortable enough? What role do you play in the status quo of systemic oppression? Why is your maid more comfortable sitting on the floor instead of the offered chair? How many of your friends and colleagues are from the lower caste? Does caste really matter anymore? When are you planning to step out and see the real India? An India where origin matters because it’s not only indicative of somebody’s past but also an enabler of their future? An India whose soul continues to rest in its villages — precisely what Gandhiji predicted — but can’t wait to embrace the cities for whatever it can offer?
So many questions, so few answers.
I believe cinema should make us think and doubt ourselves for who we are and more specifically, who we are planning to become. A theme I’ve always noticed in the better films churning out of the so-called regional cinema and something Bollywood’s younger filmmakers are seemingly open to experiment with on a mass scale. Not very long ago, the burden of making the audience think — and not just feel — was left to the intellectual filmmakers. Not anymore. We are witnessing the rise of movies that are as keen on public’s IQ/EQ assessment as they are on malls’ BO collection.
Pariyerum Perumal obviously falls — yes, yes, the right word is rises — in this acclaimed category. It tells you how it sees. One can only imagine the atrocities that lower caste people suffer in India, purportedly in the non-metropolitan areas. However, instead of creating the clichéd priestly evil, the writer-director shows how our society is a magnificent instrument of manipulation: an abode for an old man who is a part-time mass murderer but is willing to commit suicide if he fails in his mission; a sanctuary for fathers who love their daughters but are scared of the unknown consequences; an excuse for young impressionable minds wanting to change things with the help of education; a harbour for the thugs who won’t let anything change lest they lose their privileged position; an anxious circus of the worst kind.
There are many things you’ll take away from this hard-hitting film but I feel none of the scenes will beat the humiliation of a parent. His helplessness is unique in a country never dearth of uniquer problems. You won’t ever forget him; you’ll share his shame as the camera focuses on his face. He dances outside the very temple his ancestors weren’t allowed to step in. With whatever he could muster, he sends his son through school and hopes to see him graduate someday.
So, in some ways, it’s a story of parents and how they deal with the idea of giving opportunities to their kids. In other ways, it’s a story of what we can build if only we can sit and break down the invisible walls surrounding us.
Lastly, I can’t think of any song from 2018 more pertinent in its message than the one played at the end of this modern masterpiece.
