Movie Musings
#4: Shakhahaari (A Vegetarian)
Shakhahaari is about the twist of fate that decides the course of one’s life. The film revolves around a murder and how the lives of Subbanna (Rangayana Raghu), who runs a small vegetarian hotel, and Mallikarjun (Gopalkrishna Deshpande), a police officer, get affected by the case.
Life has landed on this world,
in forms, varied and complex,
and laced with colorful thought.
Day in and out,
squandering peace for nought.
It’s best not to go in search of joy.
It’s best not to go out and day dream.
Almost everybody in and around the town Melige is fond of Subbanna’s hotel. Not love, but affectionately fond of. It’s got the charm of a second home for the folk of that small town in Karnataka. It is almost customary — from cops, travelers to newspaper aficionados — to pay a visit to the ‘shakhahaari’ khanavali for a quick tea, kashaya or a quick-fix breakfast. It’s a place of respite, irrespective of the climate or circumstance, the townsfolk believe that Subbanna’s place is likely to remain the only constant in their life.
The man himself is a tad bit odd but endearing. He still owns an old radio, the transistor kind, that blurts out dulcet sounds. His other passions, aside from cooking and running the hotel, include dance and theater and his evenings are dedicated to them. He might be middle-aged but his day isn’t made until he has stolen a glance from his lady-love. He times it perfectly based on the morning news pouring out from the radio, because that’s exactly when his love-interest’s bus passes by the restaurant. Subbanna’s place is that congenial presence that everybody prefers around them because, again, the world might change but he is likely to remain the same all along. Now, picture the same man concealing the alleged suspect of the murder case in his restaurant. How will he slip through the goggles of some of his customers, who are only growing inquisitive with his now-strange behavior?
We learn that aside from Subbanna, the town’s sub-inspector Mallikarjun finds himself in a sticky situation when a murder accused escapes from his station. If he doesn’t apprehend this man soon, his pending transfer to his hometown might be stalled. Worse, he could lose his job or even end up behind bars himself. Adding salt to his dilemma, his wife who’s perennially unwell has already moved back to his hometown, and she isn’t too happy that he’s still hanging around and prioritizing work over her. We also learn that there resides a lawyer in Melige who bears a grudge against Mallikarjun for an old case and is now suddenly in the realm to make things tougher for him.
The essence of Shakahaari lies right here. A film that makes a sincere effort to build the world first as it prepares simultaneously to slowly lower us into the belly of the drama. Tactfully, the writer-director creates a milieu that’s not only conducive for a mystery but also for life to unfold at leisurely pace. The engaging drama, built on cleverly written dialogue, increases the air of intrigue as the film chugs along nicely for the most part. Shakahaari emphasizes people’s desire to live and looks at their vulnerability in the face of unforeseen situations.
Did the scorching heat blend with the wind and burn as we breathe?
Did the curse you uttered take over and wipe the destiny away?
When the truth sets out on the streets
It stands face to face, with destiny opposing it.
Has a rain that showered in a place far away, turned into a flood?
Did a spark that flew elsewhere turn into a selfish burning desire?
The secrets that stand afar and provoke.
The ties that once seemed effortless, continue to wrangle.
What value does death that occur everyday hold?
Why hasn’t this wound not faded away?
When the truth sets out on the streets,
It stands face to face, with fear that creeps in like a shadow.
Leisure is certainly the operative word in the case of Shakhahaari because the film is resolutely unhurried, at times even a little too placid. On paper, one gathers the subject matter to be tension-filled and fraught with anxiety but it becomes quite clear as the narrative plods along that the director wants his film to remain even-tempered for as long as possible. He instead wants to focus more on the mundanities, especially the domestic troubles of his other protagonists. There’s a minor supporting character in the film who asks everyone the same recurring question, “where is she?” We never get to learn who this character is, the woman he’s searching for, and why he’s in pursuit of her. There’s also another secondary character, a security guard working graveyard shift, who frequently visits Subbanna’s place for breakfast. While every other customer seems to be enjoying the food, this character repeatedly accuses Subbanna of a mysterious stench accompanying the food, especially in the savory crepes. And we do get to know the reason behind this strange accusation once the pre-climax kicks off. While the director’s intentions are noble and fascinating, the relenting nature of his approach gradually starts to lose grip of the plot.
The film is helped by a top-notch cast, led by Rangayana Raghu and Gopalakrishna Deshpande. Rangayana Raghu, a seasoned supporting actor, has powered several star films with his terrific performances. With sharp dialogue delivery and gifted comic timing, he has the ability to stand out even in boring scenes. Kudos to the director, Sandeep Sunkad, for casting two supporting actors as his lead characters and offering them enough room to shine. In Shakhahaari, both the actors convey tension and despair through their eyes. They seamlessly transform into their vulnerable characters and grow on us as the plot thickens.
The film loses control towards the end. There is a terrific face-off between the two central characters, but their fate gets decided too conveniently. The director offers enough clues, but only some are served with deception, while the others are easy to crack. Once the suspense-filled drama unfolded leisurely, the film had to land the final blow effectively. But that doesn’t mean Shakhahaari isn’t a worthwhile watch. As pointed out, the film is an immersive treat and the story is accentuated by some superb technical work.
I found myself repeating one of Subbanna’s dialogues after watching the movie, which conveyed his intent to perfection —
I’m a chef who grinds the batter at night.
Then hope that the batter rises by morning.
All I can hope to protect is that batter.
