Abhishek Makes the Cut in Slice of Life Film I Want To Talk
Starring: Abhishek Bachchan, Ahilya Bamroo, Kristin Goddard, Pearl Day, Jayant Kripalani
Direction: Shoojit Sircar
Every once in a way, our filmmakers can surprise you. Shoojit Sircar is at it this time. A fortnight after Rohit Shetty and a ghost gathered gold dust at the “movie experience” outlets, here comes “cinema”. I am shocked, without being judgmental, that audience encouragement suffers from artistic carcinoma. That explains the hesitant footfalls after a valiant effort by Sircar.
The storyline, like all tales of bravehearts, can well be reduced to a single sentence, the transcription being linear. The film is itself inspired by the life of Arjun Sen, a cancer fighter who survived 19 surgeries and completed a marathon. It is the depiction of human endurance, the spirit of a survivor and, most importantly in a world of growing incidents of cancer, a ray of hope to an ecosphere that requires not just medical attention but high sensitivity and perhaps constant companionship.
The film is about Arjun Sen (Abhishek Bachchan) who at the emotional level is battling a divorce heading to a conclusion. A marketing genius who calls the shots while he admits that marketing is bullshit. His world of confidence is also built around his little daughter Reya (Ahilya Bamroo) who is a visiting guest and is caught up in shared parental custody.
Abhishek Bachchan makes an early statement of the journey of metamorphosis. Arjun evolves from the marketing wizard to a laryngeal cancer patient. Even as the killer ailment begins to leave telltale marks, Arjun breaks down and then decides to fight. His doctor Jayanth Deb (Jayant Kriplani) is the matter-of-fact busy oncologist. It is nurse Nancy (Kristin Goddard) who stands in solid support. This is insufficient when Arjun decides to call it a day.
His kith and kin are in their own brittle works and it is Nancy who scents the suicidal plan and retrieves him by her commands. His relationship with Riya (Ahilya Bamroo in the adolescent phase) is a storm as a character in a film. With diagnoses, Arjun is battered, beaten, and bruised but functional like his stroller bag.
Once Arjun decides to fight, he also decides that it’s going to be an informed battle on the one-way route. In a postscript we are informed that the doctor gave him 100 days, he survived for 10,842.
The saga of human suffering of a man who survives 19 surgeries and does a marathon unfortunately often gets caught in a rut with Sircar, showcasing his acquired knowledge on cancer at the cost of the emotional fabric. Into the medical matrix and emotive experience of the cancer fighter, Sircar also throws some amazing dialogues. In the process, little debates like whether convincing someone amounts to manipulation, whether death is any less tragic than marriage, whether parents owe joint living to ensure emotional stability to children, where does a parent let loose an adolescent adult child and how much, yes how much, should a patient know and decide.
The relationship between Nancy and her paradoxical exit is one of the subtle facets of ‘I Want ToTalk’. Interestingly, Sircar keeps away from the usual templates of family, friends, quarrels leading to divorce. In recent times, we had multiple filmmakers giving us over-dramatised biopics from aviation giants to sport coaches to physically challenged businessmen. We have had multiple hues up for viewing. ‘I Want ToTalk’ is on a different plane. Certainly far more sensitive than most in the genre. It engages you constantly. When the actor says that he has only five per cent of his stomach left and thus he is gutless, he takes a potshot at we pot bellies who are equally guts challenged.
You sometimes get a feel that Shoojit Sircar could have pushed a little faster. The film’s highs include Arjun’s statement that surviving in his lifetime was no less than the landing on the moon. That doctors are like God, only the latter does not make you sign papers. The story about the battle of death that you may win 99 out of 100 times but it is the 100th time that death laughs, is scary and still realistic. The reminder that ‘zindagi aasan nahi hai’ echoes constantly in this non-nonsense film. The fatalistic angle of the optimistic who says that the doctor saved him because of chance is a tribute to human frailty. In the midst of this awe, there is a lovely brewing relationship between Arjun and his daughter Reya that this film would suffer in the hands of viewership that has cinematic malignancy is truly a tragic report of our cinema.
It is Abhishek Bachchan all the way. He has proved his mettle earlier. ‘Yuva’, ‘Sarkaar’, ‘Guru’, ‘Dasvi’, ‘Ghoomer’ clearly reflect that the actor deserves far more than what the industry has held out to him. Hopefully the actor’s sagging career will find some refreshing moments now onwards. The performance from Pearl Dey and Ahilya Bamroo must warrant mention. In fact, there are moments where Ahilya Bamroo reminds you of the brilliance of Pooja Bhatt in ‘Daddy’. There is a small, interesting point in the film defying the theory of average as a real number. A debate that Irving Wallace raises in ‘The Seven Minutes’. Arjun echoes it. Therefore, one cannot classify as average. It is far from average. It is a slice of life film — of a life that is constantly getting sliced and still living.