The new wave whodunnit

Silence 1: Can You Hear It?

Silence 2: The Night Owl Bar Shootout

Written & Directed: Aban Bharucha Deohans

It is not easy to catch many whodunnit mystery dramas in Indian cinema. Most stories are too convoluted to follow or too outlandish to believe. Sometimes, the investigative officers are given superhuman capabilities and have to single-handedly swashbuckler or chase the villains to the conclusion. That is history. 

With more exposure to police procedural TV shows and Hollywood offerings, audiences can no longer be fooled by this dated production. They are demanding more. With the advent of OTT platforms, it seems that newer, bolder, and more realistic scripts, sticking to real investigative police work, are on the menu these days. Many real-life crime dramas are shown as docuseries and movies. These two films with the same cast are fine examples.

In Silence #1, a young lady is found dead with a gaping wound on her head by hikers at a popular hiking site. Novice sleuths or even crime drama addicts can sniff out the perpetrator at the word go. The storytellers decided to go somewhat meandering to trap this suspect. Of course, when this lead turned out to be a red herring, we knew it must be and turned out to be the second on the list anyway. Manoj Bajpai, who assumes the role of a disillusioned police investigator, keeps the plot together. There is a backstory to his frustration, which adds glitz to the whole affair.

As the first outing in Silence #2, Bajpai’s service in the particular unit, Special Crime Unit (SCU), is requested explicitly by VVIP. An important political figure is gunned down in a bar, and Bajpai is told to get to the bottom of it. Slowly, investigations take a tangent. It spins into a yarn of child prostitution and call-girl racket. The ending, however, turns out to be a whimper as the wrongdoer, after an elaborate execution of her whole crime, just admits to her heinous crimes so readily.

Still, it is an engaging one or two.

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'Main character syndrome'?

Baby Reindeer (Miniseries, E1-7; 2024)
Director: Weronika Tofilska & Josephine Bornebusch

(Based on the autobiography of Richard Ladd) 

I learned a new term today: main character syndrome. In a world where only I, me and myself, which people really care about, it is logical for people to think that they are indeed at the centre of the Universe. The sun and all the planets revolve around them. They naturally become the main characters in a story they narrate. Even though the story is their point of view, it looks like the other characters are just there to fill up space without giving any substance to the story.

This is what the other characters in this true story are saying.

This story is about a shy Scottish lad, Donny, who wants to be a comedian. It is an autobiography, actually. To sustain himself, he works as a bartender. In the course of his work, he meets a friendly lawyer whom he finds interesting.

He is not much of a comedian, really. He is not funny. Nobody laughs at his gigs. A TV scriptwriter takes Donny under his wing and promises to make him a star. The scriptwriter turns out to be a pervert who drugs him and rapes him.

Meanwhile, the lawyer he met at the bar turns out to be a stalker who goes to great lengths to make Donny's life a living hell. Donny has a transexual person for his girlfriend. The whole story is about how Donny emerges from the shadow of his past and handles his stalker to try to make something of his life. The trouble is that Donny appears drawn back to his past as if he enjoys the pain and lives to dwell in negativity.

Even though the storyteller tries to empathise with the stalker and the abuser, in biopics like these, the aggrieved party will have his own account of the whole event. So now, the stalker and the said abuser, which netizens can easily find out with all their wisdom, are thinking of taking legal action against Netflix for screening such a film. Unable to tell her version of what actually transpired during the whole fiasco, she accuses that writer of suffering from 'main character syndrome'.

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I spy... with my U-2!

Bridge of Spies (2015)
Director: Steven Spielberg

The Second World War had ended. The Sun had finally set on the mighty British Empire. The post of world supremo was up for grabs. Over at the blue corner, secluded far away from powerful neighbours, the capitalist USA was the poster boy to prove the case that 'greed is good'. Meanwhile, at the red corner, the Soviet Union spread the idea of equity and condemned the Western way of life as decadent. 

Riddled with secrecy and the zest to supersede the other regarding military supremacy and space explorations, the Soviet-US animosity reached mammoth proportions in the post-WW2 era. Each was spying on the other and trying to outdo the other. After witnessing the devastation that the mushroom clouds did to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Americans had the pressing need to keep nuclear bomb technology within American shores. On top of that, an even more devastating bomb in the form of hydrogen bombs was in the limelight. The Americans did not want the Russians to acquire that knowledge. They wanted to bring the whole world under their hegemony.

German scientists who absconded Nazi's harassment were rounded up for the Manhattan Project and other scientific explorations around WW2. They contributed much to American scientific prowess.

U2 planes could fly at an altitude of 70,000 ft. Flying at a specific speed, the Americans thought they could avoid detection. On May 1, 1960, equipped with a quality camera, a U2 plane left Peshawar on a reconnaissance mission to take high-quality photographs deep into the Soviet Union. Unbeknownst to the Americans, the Russians detected the plane and shot a missile at it. The plane went down. 

Back in the USA, the American public was informed by NASA that their weather plane had crashed, killing its pilot, off the Turkey border. A fake NASA plane was shown as the ill-fated plane. The Soviets kept a tight lip about the whole incident. 

Francis Gary Powers

Soon, Krushscoff made a statement that a US spy plane had crashed in their territory, and its pilot, Francis Gary Powers, was in their custody. This was a massive embarrassment to Eisenhower and his administration. Powers, it seems, was given the appropriate treatment as should be offered to a captured enemy, tried and sentenced to three years of imprisonment and seven years of hard labour. 

That is where events related to this movie come in. 

In 1960, Rudolf Abel (posthumously found to be a fake name) was caught as a Russian spy. The courts, wanting to appear to give a fair representation, appointed James Donovan, an insurance lawyer, to defend him. With the 1950 Rosenberg espionage trial and subsequent execution still in the American psyche, the public wanted blood. The Rosenbergs were accused of passing sensitive documents related to the Manhattan Project to the Russians. Amidst public admonishment and displeasure, Donovan gave Abel a fighting chance. Much to everyone's chagrin, Abel probably escaped the electric chair due to Donovan's pleas. He got 30 years imprisonment. 

James Donovan's name came to the limelight again when the idea of prisoners swapping in 1962 popped up. The exchange was planned in West Berlin over Gleiniche Bridge, christened the 'Bridge of Spies' because many high-level deals were made here. As another side deal, an American student doing his PhD in Berlin was also released by the East German Stasi. For the record, the Berlin Wall was erected overnight in August 1961.

Rudolf Abel became one of Russia's most successful spies. After his release, he held important administrative and teaching positions in the Soviet Union. 

(NB If you think the LTTE is cruel as their fighters carry cyanide-filled pendants to avoid capture and later interrogations, U2 pilots carry a deadly neurotoxin-impregnated needle hidden in a coin for them to inject themselves during instances when they cannot stand the torture of enemy. And the pilots barely passed twenty!)

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Simple living is virtous?

Perfect Days (Japanese, 2023)
Director: Wim Wenders

(Please note: It is plural, not singular. Every day is a perfect day, and there are many!)

This is a reminder to recreational cyclists over 60: Just enjoy every opportunity that comes your way. By the twist of fate or alms from karma, you can go out, pedal, and feel the wind whisk by as you zoom downhill. Only some people are gifted with the privilege to do this. There is no need to outdo a fellow cyclist, go all out for a personal record, or invest in a state-of-the-art, spanking-new machine to keep up with the Joneses. Every completed cycling route happens on a perfect day. There will be many perfect days.

This beautifully crafted film gets all my thumbs up. It moves very slowly with apparently no definite direction, but that, in essence, that is the message behind the movie. We should find happiness in the things around us. 

The protagonist, Hirayama, is a creature of routine. He gets up to the rhythmic pace of a street sweeper sweeping the street. From that, it is like clockwork. Folding his mattress neatly, washing up, trimming his moustache, slipping into his overalls, and getting his keys organised, he exits his door. He looks out gleefully at the morning sky. Next is coffee from the vending machine, and gets into his working van. In the truck, he listens to songs that suit his mood on a cassette player! He is a proud, dedicated worker who cleans public toilets. 

Even though he realises that he is viewed with condescension, he knows his job is essential and does it diligently. 

His lunchtime routine is also set. Armed with a packet of drinks and a sandwich, he sits on the same park bench every day, observing people and seeing the ray of light dancing through the shadows of the leaf (Komorebi*). He snaps moments he finds something fascinating on his analogue automatic camera (with physical films!). His mobile phone is also an analogue. He is content without learning to take digital photos or using apps like Spotify. He sneers at them and is pleasantly surprised that his cassette can fetch much money if sold. He is happy having his daily bath at the public bath and eating from the same stall at the food court. Once in a while, he would visit a lady who runs her small restaurant and sometimes sings for her customers.

A few things happen in his mundane life. His niece, his sister's daughter, runs away from her wealthy home for a few days. Hirayama's sister turns up, and we learn about his animosity or disagreement with his ailing father. The lady restaurant, whom Hirayama secretly fancies, is seen caught in a passionate embrace with an unknown man.  

He threads everything in a stride and never fails to catch up by reading classic short stories and essays before he retires for the night, including Shakespeare and Faulkner. 

Our minds like to wander. Probably because of that, a regimental style of life is prescribed to live right. We are told to live simply. Unfortunately, it does not work at a collective level. If everyone maintains an Epicurean form of living, being content with the bare minimum and not venturing beyond his comfort zone or, like Sissyphus, accepting his fate as someone who needs to find happiness within his endless rolling up the boulder and it rolling back, the human race would still be dwelling in caves! 'Now is now' and 'next time is next time', as Hiroyama advocates, give peace of mind to an individual, not protect the community from adversities. 4.5/5.

* Komorebi is a Japanese word that means the play of sunlight through leaves. 

** Hirayama's excellent cassette collection includes Lou Reed, the Kinks, Otis Redding, Velvet Underground, the Rolling Stones, and more

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Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. Arthur Schopenhauer.

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Don Quixote’s Paradise

It is the year 2074. Yes, the world is still around, and so is the human race. It has been over a century since Malaysia received its mandate to self-rule. Technically, we should be in a utopia with so much sunlight throughout the year and a chirpy tropical climate devoid of depressing, chilling winters or debilitating natural calamities. A potpourri of food options is available 24/7 at our fingertips and delivered to our doorsteps with easy-access drone servers. We should be the happiest people in the world. In reality, however…

https://borderlessjournal.com/2024/05/14/don-quixotes-paradise

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Deep down we want some masala!

Amar Singh Chakila (Hindi, Punjabi; 2024)

Director: Imtiaz Ali

Whilst self-proclaimed intellectually minded individuals peruse the internet for minute-to-minute updates on the situation in Gaza, the masses are pretty contented sneaking into the WhatsApp communication between Aliff Aziz and Ruhainies, the latest two-timing pair of the Malaysian showbiz scene. Netizens feel for the wounded wife, Bella Astillah, who used to be Ruhainies' bosom buddy. 

Neither party, the 'intellectuals' or the regular people, can do anything to change the trajectory of the event. In no way do these events bring them their bread or make their lives more fruitful. But it allows the masses to divert their attention from their mundane lives. They do not want their lives to be complicated, but they find solace in finding how much muck goes on in people's lives. And how virtuous is theirs, until, of course, the readers' own story becomes the topic of the day…

Look around us at regions ruled by regimes which promote religion as their bedrock of creating a 'sinless' society. Paradoxically the regions turn out to be the ones with the most subscribers of Porn Hub, of rape, drug abuse, incest and domestic disharmony. 

My Malaysian Punjabi friends had not heard of this singer until this movie was shown on Netflix. Sure, they had heard that many Punjabi singers get killed, promote gun violence, and are misogynistic and vulgar, but somehow, Chamkila missed their radar. Now they know that he was once the highest-selling musician in Punjab and was even more popular than Amitabh Bachchan. Someone even referred to him as the 'Elvis of Punjab'. Sadly, he was gunned down while arriving for a show. He joined the now famous 'Club 27' - the talented musicians who conspicuously died at 27 - Cobain, Winehouse, Morrison, Hendrix and more. This was in the 80's.

Chamkila's story was that his songs were liked by the majority but no moral guardians of society. The moral guardians felt that Chamkila's vulgar, immoral song lyrics were not what the public wanted to hear. Funny, if that is not what the public wants to hear, how come his records are the highest grossers?

Chamila is not even his surname. It was given or maybe mispronounced by the introducer. Amar Singh started life in a lowly Dalit family, growing up in feuding families amidst a rather 'not-so-refined' neighbourhood. Caught in an unsatisfying job making socks, he composed songs to the tune of his musical instrument, the tumbi, during his free time.

A singer, Jinda, picked up his talent, and Amar Singh started writing songs for him. When Jinda failed to appear on time at one of his shows, Amar Singh had to fill in. The audience was so taken up by his rendition that they did not want Jinda when he eventually appeared later. Amar's singing career started then. After partnering with a few female singers, he stuck with Amorjit.

Amar and Amorjit became romantically linked. They got married. Only later did Amorjit find out that Amar was already married before.

The duo found success after success. Appointments were pouring from villages, towns and even overseas. There were criticisms regarding their overtly vulgar lyrics and crass tone of songs, but the money that came with the shows seemed to sanitise everything. When Amar's father got furious seeing that Amar had cropped his hair, his anger simmered down when Amar presented him with a stack of cash he earned singing. When his first wife and family got crossed when they discovered his clandestine marriage to Amorjit, everything was squashed with a promise of fat alimony and compensation.

Things became complicated when the Sikh elders and Kahalistani members accused him of corrupting the youth. Amar then started writing devotional songs and the call for freedom. The police construed these as dog whistles for the general public to rise up to the call of the Kahalistani movement. After all, this was the heady time after Indra Gandhi's assassination and national discontent with the Sikhs. Chamkila was confused. When the police and the religious people forbade him to sing his songs, the general public wanted more and more of his songs with raunchy lines about peeping toms and promiscuous MILFs. 

There was a strong suspicion that Khalistani hitmen killed Amar Singh Chamkila and Amorjit as they were getting down from their car for a performance at a small village on 8th March 1988, but nothing was proven. The killers are still at large.

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Our past controls the present?

Bhoothakaalam (The Past / Ghost Time, Malayalam; 2022)

Director: Rahul Sadasivan

There is a little wordplay with the title. With the prefix ’Bhooth’, one may wonder whether it is a horror movie. When one starts watching the film, one would wonder whether it is about the ghost of the past. That is what it is all about—how the ghost of the past comes haunting if it is not exorcised head-on. The ugly demonic head of the past has a self-defeating habit of repeating itself, making one go through the malady repeatedly.

No one will take kindly to others’ advice on how one’s life should be lived. No one will be flattered when told his head should be checked. That is what it is. Individuals should take a step back, access their mental health occasionally, and take preventive measures or make amends. Be the change. Change comes with realisation and from the inside. No one can make the horse drink water. The horse must first feel thirsty. The need to change comes from within.

Viewers wonder whether it is a horror film or if there is a more prosaic explanation for all the weird happenings around the house.

Is the recently departed grandmother’s soul returning with a vengeance to express her dissatisfaction? Is the house displaying poltergeist activities? Why do tenants after tenants die in the same house? Is the mother’s overt depression or the son’s indulgence in intoxicants the culprit?

The family had gone a lot. The son lost his father at a young age. He grew up without a father figure. The mother had to struggle with her unsatisfying teaching job at a nursery and later caring for her stroke-stricken paraplegic mother.

The son carries a heavy cloud of resentment after being forced to do medicine, which he had to quit and failing to secure a job with his pharmacy degree. He smokes heavily and drinks himself drunk frequently. His relationship with his girlfriend could be much better. When funny things start happening in the house, he flips. Soon enough, even his mother sees the abnormal activities in the house.

In a very clever manner of storytelling and filmmaking, the director takes us through a roller coaster ride to keep us guessing whether the whole point of the movie is to impress the viewers on the need to treat mental illness correctly or whether there is such a thing as ghosts?!

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