19 March,2022 07:23 AM IST | Mumbai | Mayank Shekhar
A still from the film
Frankly, I can't recall any other time that I've wrapped up a film and gone back right thereafter to the opening credits - obviously not to look up the cast, or director (those are well-known), but to scroll slow, and find the sound designer for a special mention, something one doesn't tend to do, usually, or ever in fact.
The name mentioned is Anthony Jayaburan. And so far as this film is concerned - but movies in general, I reckon - he's the reason that if you're alone, you should ideally plug in a kickass headphone while watching it.
The sound, in all its playful majesty and shock value, is the first thing you notice about Jalsa. Which is anyway a technically sound film, across all departments - cinematography, production design, et al. The credit for which, as always, must go to the director.
That's Suresh Triveni, who first filmed Vidya Balan in the frothy and feminist, Tumhari Sulu (2017). This is his second feature, starring Shefali Shah, alongside Balan - with even the great Rohini Hattangadi, a few steps behind both. Can't think of better female actors to frame a film, regardless of genre.
Taking away nothing from other equally, warmly handpicked actors playing parts from entirely worlds. The relatively large cast of characters, with adequate back-stories, are so inspiringly inter-related or hyperlinked, that each one just manages to matter much to the movie, and therefore to each other. Think of it as Alexandro Innaritu's Amores Perros (2000) that initiated a global interest in this kinda storytelling? Maybe; but not too much though.
Smart background score apart, what you also repeatedly observe in the foreground is a series of shots to do with multiple screens - CCTV, tablet, cellphone, home-door security cam, gaming on TV, news monitor, etc. What's the film trying to say? That the screen entirely envelopes our lives anyway.
What's perhaps not so true in this Mumbai movie is that there's ever a moment in the life of the city that never sleeps, no matter where you are, that nobody's around. I think that's what makes Bombay one of India's safest cities; in particular, for women. We haven't started living altogether in the metaverse yet! Jalsa opens with a vast stretch of an empty rail over-bridge, followed by a totally quiet road, in the dead of the night.
This is when a young girl from the under-classes gets hit head-on, slammed straight, by a speeding car. It's an accident alright. Which sets off a series of events, loaded with drama, both solid and soft, more than a touch of irony - and if you look hard enough, you'll find enough humour too.
As a screenplay (credited to, among others, Trivedi and Prajwal Chandrashekhar), this multi-culti movie, based on a massive coincidence, is what you'd call a âmoral drama'. A genre that Iranian cinema kills the world with - and in India, certain Malayalam movies get so right.
Why a moral drama, specifically? In the sense that the woman (Balan) who was driving the car, and sped off after knocking down a young girl - a fit case for hit-and-run - isn't some rich brat, or a callous movie star.
She is a popular television journalist (now working on the web) - a perennially virtue-signaling, self-righteous scribe, demanding accountability from the mighty, and speaking truth to power, as it were. Guilt and redemption are at the core of this picture then. God knows that double helix has produced some of the greatest movies of all
times anyway.
What's the massive coincidence, though? That the girl wasn't any other poor pedestrian either. She is the daughter of the driver's child's nanny (Shefali Shah).
Basically Balan's character has blood in the hand of someone she knows all too well. The suspense thriller, through bends and turns - zooming in on relationships, and therefore, sometimes, tending towards a slow burn - that follows, is what makes Jalsa yet another film, starring Balan in the lead, that's been worth all the prateeksha (wait).
It's almost like she can't go wrong with the choice of pictures. This one bears a censor certificate, which means it was originally meant to be a theatrical release. Ideally should have been. Already looks good, would've sounded even better still!
