Set in pre-independence
India in what is made to look like Benaras, Deepa
Mehta’s controversial film Water
is the saga of a group of three widows –
the eight year old Chuyia (Sarala), effervescent
and gorgeous widow Kalyani (Lisa Ray) and the
wise and intense middle aged Shakuntala (Seema
Biswas). Their lives are played out with the element
of Water running as a motif throughout the film;
like an ever present observer.
Little Chuyia without even an understanding of
what has happened to her, is widowed at the age
of eight. In one of film’s most moving scenes
where the camera ‘documents’ her hair
shorn so matter of factly, becoming a poignant
reminder of a cruel and dehumanizing socio-religious
practice that women are subjected to in the name
of religion. This image sets the tone for the
entire film. She is deposited in an ashram for
poor widowed women to live out the rest of her
life in abstention, devotion and poverty. This
self-sufficient ashram is run by a ganja smoking
uncouth elderly widow Madhumati (Manorama) who
is as authoritarian as she is crude. Among the
inmates is the reserved but intense Shakuntala
and the gorgeous and child-like Kalyani. If Chuyia’s
stubborn defiance upsets the harmony, Kalyani’s
falling in love spells panic. She is after all
the sole bread-winner of the commune. Many events
along the way make even the resigned Shakunthala
question the validity of the prevalent practices.
 All
this may sound like fiery activist against a social
evil material. But for once, I was pleasantly
surprised. I remember being present at the India
premier of Fire and being mildly repulsed by the
‘in-your-face’ approach to the theme
of oppressed women in a traditional Hindu family.
Nine years, two films (the Aamir Khan starrer
Earth (1998) and the feel-good Canadian
box-office hit Hollywood/Bollywood (2002))
and plenty of controversy onwards, it appears
that Mehta's has learned many a lesson in exquisite
subtlety.
The feel of the film is almost Satyajit
Ray-esque, especially in the scenes involving
young Chuyia and one particular old widow resembling
the Aunt character in the same film reminding
one instantly of Pather
Panchali (1955). Water is about a reference
to widows in the ancient Hindu scriptures –
where they are given three options after their
husband’s have passed away- to die along
with them on the funeral pyre, to lead a life
of contemplation with the sole purpose of cleansing
themselves from sin or marry the husband’s
younger brother. This archaic maxim leaves little
room for freewill and is especially exploited
by those who benefit from it. But when the widows
begin to question it – Chuyia in her innocent
way, Kalyani by falling in love and finally Shakuntala
by quiet defiance, the fragile balance is upset.
The background music by Mychael Danna, again reminiscent
of Pandit Ravi Shankar’s for Ray’s
masterpiece adds the gentle emotional tug to the
proceedings. Giles Nuttgens camerawork remains
unobtrusive and aptly transports you to a period
where life was simpler yet oppressive. Mehta gently
entices the viewer to observe, reflect and finally
protest.
There are scenes that work particularly well.
Like Kalyani asking Shakuntala to read her love
letter she has just received from the young idealist
lawyer Narain (John Abraham). The way Seema Biswas
is able to lift this scene out of the ordinary
is a study in acting. Indeed hers is the performance
that stands out the most in the film- solid yet
underplayed. It takes actors of calibre to pull
off a powerful performance sans fancy clothes,
make-up and loud voice. A subtle glance from her
is all that it takes to convey internal states.
Biswas truly deserves all the accolades she has
got from the film. It is a pity that barring a
stray Bandit Queen (1994) or a Khamoshi
- The Musical (1996), Indian filmmakers have
not utilized her enormous potential yet. In an
extreamely interesting bit of casting, yesteryear
comedienne Manorama playing the crude ganja smoking
Madhumati is a revelation. Another one of Mehta’s
accomplishments in the film is the casting of
Sri Lanka born Sarala as Chuyia and much of the
supporting cast who really liven up the proceedings
and convey the pathos to their plight.
 But
subtlety and underplaying can sometimes go unnoticed
with lesser capable actors.
This is glaring in the casting of John Abraham
and Lisa Ray, (commercial viability perhaps?)
and it is here that Mehta has fumbled. Abraham
rarely displays emotion, so whether he is wooing
Kalyani with Sanskrit poems or mourning her death
he remains totally expressionless and wooden.
It seems that nothing particularly affects him-
his idealism too is passionless and uninspiring.
Kalyani, played by gorgeous but meek voiced Lisa
Ray though does have her few redeeming moments
especially in the scene where she realizes Narain
is the son of one of her ‘clients.’
Mehta has certainly taken time over her script
with sequences flowing smoothly as the story unfolds.
She remarkably never loses track in this multi-perspective
narrative. Her script manages to communicate her
‘message’ in a fairly well- layered
narrative. This is something that Indian filmmakers
should take note of. But it ahs to be admitted
there are dialogues in the film that are rather
too expository and said with the intent of conveying
something ‘meaningful.’ However Mehta
triumphs with poignant non-melodramatic ending
which is sure to leave an impression.
Clearly Mehta’s has learned her lessons
from the humanists of world cinema where subtlety
as opposed to over the top, in your face melodrama
is the preferred instrument of social change.
Sadly the censor certification for India screams
– banned! It’s a pity that filmmakers
in this country face opposition from fundamentalists
for what they perceive as a threat to socio-religious
values. It is to Mehta’s credit that she
persevered despite attempts to abort the project.
Changing shooting location from Benaras to Sri
Lanka and lead actors Nandita Das with Lisa Ray
and Shabana Azmi with Seema Biswas was indeed
a blessing in disguise. For had it been set there
it would have ended up looking like exotica with
a quirky little custom in superstition bound ancient
India. The switch effectively contemporizes the
still prevalent barbaric custom. Paradoxically
the film couldn't be screened till now in the
very country where this practice is still prevalent.
But thankfully its Oscar nomination has changed
all that.
Elka Sinha has worked in the media in
various capacities working as a writer for print
and online content. She also has been involved
in the production of audio-visual material - documentaries,
corporate films, advertisements and a soon to
be released Indian English feature film.
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