Everyone,
says
someone
important
in
this
searing
document
of
our
times,
is
playing
politics
in
the
Kashmir
Valley.
In
a
milieu
of
all-pervasive
politics,
thank
the
Lord
for
a
creative
voice
that
can
look
into
the
burning
Valley
with
dispassionate
compassion.
Lamhaa
is
one
of
those
docu-dramas
that
could
have
easily
toppled
into
the
territory
of
over-statement
and
over-simplified
politics.
And
boy,
haven't
we
seen
that
happen
in
very
successful
political
cinema
in
recent
times?!
Rahul
Dholakia,
who
earlier
made
the
gently
persuasive
Parzania
on
the
aftermath
of
the
Gujarat
riots,
doesn't
lose
his
storytelling
equilibrium
even
when
the
situations
of
crises
described
by
the
skillfully-written
plot
scream
for
attention.
Restraint
and
honesty
go
hand-in-hand
in
Dholakia's
Kashmir,
which
we'd
like
to
believe,
is
the
real
Kashmir,
unalloyed,
non-magnified,
intense
and
utterly
devoid
of
artifice.
The
camera
moves
restlessly
through
the
dangerous
crowded
main
roads
and
tense
by
lanes
of
Kashmir
where
anything
can
happen.
The
cinematographer
James
Fowlds
seems
to
know
the
Valley
of
the
damned
with
the
transparent
scrupulousness
of
an
insider
who
can
place
himself
outside
the
explosive
bustle
of
a
portion
of
earth
that's
rapidly
slipped
into
the
stratosphere
of
anarchy
and
mayhem.
The
high-octane
screenplay
has
no
space
or
time
to
shed
tears
for
the
innocent
and
the
dead.
Miraculously
liberated
of
overt
sentimentality
Lamhaa
moves
with
candour
and
confidence
through
a
world
whose
politics
has
become
progressively
impossible
for
the
outsider
to
comprehend.
Dholakia's
narrative
moves
through
a
labyrinth
of
pain
and
violence
without
trying
to
make
common
sense
of
them.
The
narrative
imposes
no
morality
on
the
escalated
violence
of
the
Valley.
Neither
does
Dholakia
get
excessively
'cinematic'
in
his
approach
to
the
complex
material.
Most
of
the
time
he
lets
the
characters
be.
The
Valley
of
simmering
discontent
comes
alive
in
front
of
us
in
a
ferocious
but
toned-down
swoop
of
politics
and
drama.
The
narrative
moves
swiftly
and
steadily
through
the
characters'
lives.
It
isn't
always
easy
to
tell
who
is
on
the
right
side,
probably
because
the
lines
of
morality
are
not
just
blurred
in
the
Valley,
they've
almost
completely
disappeared.
Jannat
is
in
a
limbo.
Lamhaa
is
a
tearless
ode
to
people
who
have
become
so
isolated
from
the
mainstream
of
Indian
life
that
the
adorable
children
openly
and
abusively
talk
of
India
as
a
separate
country.
The
dialogues
(Ashwath
Bhatt)
spare
none,
not
the
politicians
and
certainly
not
the
other
power-brokers
who
in
the
films
words
have
turned
Kashmir
into
a
lucrative
business
company.
At
the
lowest
level,
Lamhaa
is
thought
provoking
mirror
of
mayhem
and
misapprehensions
on
a
piece
of
earth
that
once
was
paradise.
At
the
highest
level
it's
an
even-pitched
docu-drama
which
doesn't
mince
words
nor
try
to
act
cute
about
a
throbbing
crisis.
The
pitch
is
controlled
even
when
the
circumstances
in
the
plot
are
totally
out
of
control.
As
Sanjay
Dutt
walks
into
the
volatile
Valley
with
leonine
strides
we
feel
for
a
while
as
though
Dholakia
wants
to
insinuate
a
larger-than-life
super-hero
into
headline-driven
politics.
But
Dutt
soon
blends
into
the
savage
fabric
of
a
life
lived
on
the
edge
by
people
who
have
nothing
to
lose
any
more.
The
film
is
dotted
with
memorable
cameos.
Among
the
fringe
players
Shenaz
Patel
as
a
woman
looking
for
her
husband
for
18
years
leaves
a
lingering
impact.
Among
the
principal
cast
Kunal
Kapoor
as
a
young
militant
turned
conscientious
politician
determined
to
gather
peace
into
the
Valley
and
Anupam
Kher
as
a
treacherous
political
leader
get
it
right
dead-on.
But
the
real
revelation
is
Bipasha
Basu.
In
a
powerful
role
that
Shabana
Azmi
would
no
doubt
have
played
twenty
years
ago,
Bipasha
sinks
herself
into
her
character
imparting
a
dramatic
resonance
into
the
role
without
resorting
to
stock
expressions.
The
sequence
where
she
gets
mauled
by
militant
women
is
as
traumatic
to
watch
as
it
must
have
been
for
Bipasha
to
shoot.
Lamhaa
is
not
an
easy
film
to
watch.
It
comes
to
no
decisive
end.
It
takes
into
consideration
the
entire
politics
of
Kashmir
without
careening
towards
excessive
drama.
This
is
that
rare
political
drama
where
every
component
in
the
jigsaw
of
politics
and
terrorism
is
put
on
screen
with
a
sensitivity
and
precision
that
repudiate
melodramatic
excesses.
A
word
of
special
praise
for
Mithoon's
songs.
The
lyrically
lush
tunes
break
into
the
deafening
sound
of
bomb
blasts
and
roaring
guns
to
remind
us
that
once
the
best
poets
of
Kashmir
wrote
poetry
on
the
beauty
of
the
Valley.
The
beauty
of
Lamhaa
lies
in
its
constant
gaze
at
that
beauty
that
one
still
glimpses
in
the
shimmering
waters
of
Dal
Lake
on
a
quiet
and
peaceful
day.
Story first published: Saturday, July 17, 2010, 13:42 [IST]