By:
Subhash
K.
Jha,
IndiaFM
Tuesday,
June
12,
2007
To
miss
this
movie
on
the
true
meaning
of
religion
is
a
crime
for
any
cineaste.
How
much
poorer
one
would
be
if
one
allowed
this
penetrating
masterpiece
to
pass
by
without
a
standing
ovation!
Debutante
director
Bhavna
Talwar
paints
a
map
of
the
human
heart
in
confident
bold
vibrant
but
gentle
strokes.
Varanasi,
the
city
of
holy
dreams
and
unholy
nightmares,
and
the
clash
between
old-world
values
and
new-world
connivances,
has
seldom
been
captured
with
such
exquisite
and
tender
splendor.
Straddling
this
world
of
colossal
pain
and
redemption
as
defined
by
the
individual's
desires
and
emotions,
is
Pundit
Chaturvedi
(Pankaj
Kapur),
a
potbellied,
bare-torsoed
symbol
of
religiosity
who
could
easily
have
become
a
parody
in
lesser
hands.
In
the
first
half-hour
of
this
tightly-wound
homage
to
the
aroma
of
incense
on
the
angry
ghats,
the
director
establishes
Chaturvedi's
rigidly
ritualistic
world
as
qualified
by
the
priest's
own
dormant,
tolerant
take
on
humanism.
The
dawn
scenes
depicting
the
unruffled
priest
striding
briskly
through
the
gallis
of
Varanasi
with
huffing
disciples
in
tow,
as
he's
accosted
by
a
sneering
conniving
opponent
(Daya
Shankar
Pandey)
are
designed
in
vibrant
colors
bringing
alive
the
predominance
of
ritualistic
religion
in
a
city
that's
submerged
in
so
many
subtexts.
The
dramatic
focus
of
the
plot
emerges
when
a
baby
is
abandoned
at
the
Priest's
residence
triggering
off
what
can
only
called
a
conflict
between
religious
compulsion
and
the
individual
conscience
culminating
in
one
of
the
most
rousing
and
radical
denouements
on
religious
bigotry
and
communal
prejudice
put
on
screen
since
Man
invented
malevolence
and
cinema.
The
narrative
is
driven
deftly
forward
by
a
powerful
script
(Vibha
Singh)
and
an
editing
pattern
that
embraces
austerity
at
a
time
of
tremendous
dramatic
excesses
in
the
plot.
What
truly
holds
up
this
taut
tale
and
rescues
it
from
becoming
perched
on
the
ruinous
precipice
of
polemical
pirouette,
is
the
debutante
director's
vision.
Bhavna
Talwar's
vision
encompasses
both
acute
sensitivity
and
immense
compassion.
The
pulls
and
pushes
of
an
ancient
religion
that
remains
dynamic
in
spite
of
its
dark
decadence
emerge
in
scenes
that
are
written
not
to
impress
us
with
drama
but
to
underscore
the
spiritual
underbelly
of
the
plot.
Note
the
tangential
appearance
of
a
sub-plot
where
a
girl
from
the
priest's
family
(Hrishita
Bhatt,
stripped
of
her
stripper
image)
elopes
with
a
foreigner.
Here,
as
in
several
other
lucid
passages
depicting
the
clash
of
the
modern
and
the
revered,
the
narration
refuses
to
be
judgmental.
Instead
we
get
to
see
the
city
in
all
its
tender
splashy
splendor
without
smirk
sob
or
sigh.
Above
all,
Dharm
works
because
it
is
at
heart,
a
humane
story.
My
favourite
scenes
in
Dharmare
the
ones
within
Pundit
Chaturvedi's
domestic
domain.
The
bonding
that
grows
between
the
priest
and
the
abandoned
5-year
old
(Krish
Parekh)
is
warm
but
sparing.
You
watch
the
father-foster-son
relationship
grow
through
a
play
of
heartwarming
emotions
that
don't
assail
your
senses.
There's
a
similar
holding-back
in
the
Priest's
scenes
with
his
devoted
docile
and
yet
assertive
wife
(played
with
rare
compassion
by
Supriya
Pathak).
Brahminical
arrogance
meets
a
compassionate
world-view
in
Bhavna
Talwar's
extraordinary
portrayal
of
humanism
kinship
and
tolerance.
The
debutant
director's
penetrating
take
on
how
grim
is
the
grass
in
the
land
of
the
divine
and
the
crass,
wouldn't
have
worked
were
it
not
for
Pankaj
Kapur
in
the
central
role.
As
the
head
priest
caught
in
a
terrible
dilemma
that
questions
his
entire
ethos
and
commitment
to
society
and
religion,
Kapur
ceases
to
be
an
actor
once
the
camera
switches
on.
The
supporting
cast
is
extremely
supportive.
But
it's
doubtful
the
film
would've
worked
its
sturdy
alchemy
on
the
plot
the
people
housed
within,
without
Kapur's
'non-performance'.
No
assessment
of
Dharmcan
be
complete
without
saluting
the
cinematographer
(Nalla
Muthu),
the
art
designer
(Wasiq
Khan)
and
Sonu
Nigam's
theme
song.
All
these
add
an
extra
dimension
to
this
extra-ordinary
film
on
the
passing-forth
of
an
era
and
culture
as
seen
through
the
eyes
of
a
god-head
who
finally
believes
reform
is
the
only
religious
order
worth
pursuing.
This
film
is
Rang
De
Basanti
without
its
anger
and
Lage
Raho...Munnabhai
without
its
satire.
Dharm
embraces
the
reformist
genre
without
propagating
vigilantism
or
facetiousness.
Don't
frown
or
laugh
at
the
evil
within
our
society.
Own
up
to
it.
Look
at
the
rot
straight
in
the
eye.
You'll
re-discover
the
core
of
humanity
that's
been
waylaid
by
the
architects
of
'Modern'
India.
Dharm
is
an
old-fashioned
typewritten-transcribed
screenplay
(reminiscent
in
many
ways
of
Yash
Chopra's
4-decade
old
Dharmputra)
written
in
words
that
are
meant
to
reach
into
the
remotest
corners
of
the
stoniest
modern
hearts.
Dharm
leads
you
into
the
light
without
making
a
song
and
dance
of
the
process.
Really,
you
can't
miss
this.