Piyush Roy
Adolescence, most parents would agree, is the most complex stage in a kid’s growth. But if seen from the kid’s perspective, it’s one of the most inquisitive, adventurous and memorable phases of growing, in that unique life stage cusp between discipline and discovery, restrain and freedom, as a kid takes his first curious steps to becoming a young adult. The body changes, but the new perspectives that the mind discovers to old familiar happenings can make or mar a life. In that, schools and more importantly schoolmates play a major role. Yes, this is the phase when as friends take over and parents take a backstage in a kid’s articulated priorities. But the sooner parents realise that reality and learn to take their ward in confidence, as a friend and offer something more to their relationship beyond simple parenting, the stronger become a family’s bonds.
The much acclaimed Marathi film, Killa, currently in the theatres with subtitles, offers empathetic insights into few such subtle frictions and their solutions in kid-parent bonds, in the context of that much missed backdrop, called adolescence. The film deservedly picked a Crystal Bear (Best Film in the Generation KPlus Section) at this year’s Berlin Film Festival, breaking a good long spell of no-wins for Indian films at the big three of international film festivals – Cannes, Berlin and Venice. In its citation, the jury noted: “This film convinced us in all respects: with its good camera-work and the great actors, but also because of its incredibly beautiful nature images, which blend perfectly with the music. This film made us all want to discover India.” Killa, along with the Hindi film Masaan, are India’s latest triumphs in world cinema.
Both have been able to achieve a successful universal connect because of their intensely local settings, concerns and characters. Adolescence and its adventures, have always been one of European and American art cinema’s favourite cinematic themes. The rebellious nature and the sexual awakening aspect of that age have given filmmakers immense dramatic possibilities.
Director Avinash Arunin Killa explores another not often seen dilemma, the challenge of making friends and the processes leading to knowing, retaining or bonding better with them. First love, first pet, first heartbreak, first secrets, first serious fights, first sacrifice, first shared joys, first bonds for life… Killa evocatively captures the entire rainbow of an impressionable age’s experiences shot off the dynamic landscape of a coastal Konkan village, ably enhanced by the performance of its lead protagonist Chinmay played by Archit Deodhar. His restlessness is ably understood and anchored by a moving performance by Amruta Subhash as his ‘working’ mother that will stay, haunt and make you realise the many sacrifices,mothers do, even to just get the daily chores going.
The film works on a simple premise – the challenges of belonging, for an outsider in a new environment. Chinmay’s mother is in a transferable government job. So just when he’s found himself a root, his world is uprooted again. The film begins with Chinmay and his mother trying to settle in a new, unfamiliar rural environmentafter staying in a big city like Pune. They also are coming to terms with the untimely death of his father a
year ago.
The drama revolves around a new student’s experiences in a new school. How he makes friends, breaks into existing groups, wins trust, gets betrayed, negotiates solitude and makes friends for life. The entire range of familiar characters in a class are there – the bully, the lovelorn, the rich boy, the nerd, the leader, his smart sidekick and the girls. Chinmay fills in the gap of the intelligent one, the one with a scholarship, but his presence stands out because of the eclectic, well-etched company around him that adds much more than it takes. Case in point is Parth Bhalerao’s support act as Chinmay’s first buddy, in an endearing ‘naughty-boy’ act that got him a special mention at this year’s National Film Awards.
What makes director Avinash’s debut effort remarkable is the way he captures his characters’ foils and foibles, tricks and tensions, backed by an incisive, intelligent screenplay that seeks its drama drivers in evocative silences. A story of a bunch of kids could have easily tipped over to being noisy and talk heavy, with its characters frequently feeling tempted to act beyond their age to be not dismissed as a children’s film. Thankfully, Killa doesn’t succumb to that lure; it is in the relatability of its telling, and the confidence of its director to hold back and let the silence of a character, a situation and the silence between characters talk, that makes it an engaging adult viewing experience and one of India’s most memorable offerings to world cinema this year.
