A lovely Malayalam movie came out earlier this year – Maheshinte Prathikaaram – a simple premise based on actual events. The movie is set in Idukki, which makes for a great backdrop and also provides excellent material in the form of the simplicity of the people and their lifestyles. We saw the movie soon as it released and I loved it. Very few scripts manage to bring together an enjoyable mix (read balance) of humour and poignancy, and it requires a well chosen and talented cast to execute it well. This movie did both.
While the principal narrative track (the revenge that is suggested in the film’s name) around Mahesh, the protagonist, is entertaining in itself, the idea around his father’s character – Vincent Bhavana – interested me a tad more. Recently, I saw the movie again, and now that I knew how it would play out, I could pay more attention to this track.
Vincent is passionate about photography and this is presumably what leads him to start a studio, which Mahesh now runs. But Mahesh sees it just as a job. A lot of nuances mark this difference. For instance, when Mahesh tells his dad that he’s going to the shop, the latter corrects him and says “studio, not shop.” Very early in the movie, we are given a glimpse of Vincent’s relationship with photography, and later in the movie, a flashback expands on this. Vincent’s effort and patience, and the satisfaction when he develops the photo in the darkroom, captures what photography means to him. “Nice”, he says, with a soft smile, in a rare display of emotion. That’s also when some light begins to penetrate the fogginess of Mahesh’s mind, with respect to photography. But the path isn’t easy, and he gets rapped by Vincent at least a couple of times. I have to mention the fantastic writing in these bits – (translated) “Photography cannot be taught, but it can be learnt”, or “I can keep the food in your mouth. Don’t ask me to chew it for you!”
Despite these expressions, Vincent is soft spoken, and the epitome of calm. He reminded me a lot of an uncle of mine, who shares these traits as well as a keen interest in photography. Though I tease him quite a bit, there is a lot of warmth in that teasing, a warmth that comes from acknowledging a few things. He belonged to an era when “passion” didn’t really have the glamour associated with it now. “Photography” wasn’t as easy buying a DSLR on Amazon or having an FB page! There was no posturing. It was something that was done when one could take time (and money) out of the business of living, and unless one took it up professionally, (which most didn’t) one’s skill was at best known to family and friends. No social media, you see. There was a genuineness of intent that (at the risk of generalising) is extremely hard to see these days.
As we optimise most of our experiences and consumption towards convenience and ease, are we trading small bouts of enjoyment/disappointment from relatively undemanding exercises/interests for the sorrow/joy that passion can bring? Is that just another inevitability of the era of speed, decreasing attention spans and “snackable content”? Or maybe, the truly passionate are going on with it, and are not on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram. There lies the hope! 🙂
P.S. Not a photographer, but love the quote
