La acusación

Crítica de Pablo Suárez - Buenos Aires Herald

POINTS: 9
It’s widely known that awards don’t necessarily have that much to do with the quality of a film. Too many mediocre movies have inexplicably won too many prizes at all times. But it’s equally true that every now and then, there comes that one special film that deserves all the praise it’s been getting internationally. Indian writer-director Chaitanya Tamhane’s debut feature Court is a perfect case in point.
At last year’s BAFICI, Court won Best Film and Best Actor in the official competition, plus the FIPRESCI and the SIGNIS awards. Then, the FIPRESCI award at the Viennale and the top prize in Venice’s Orizzonti section, among many other prizes.
And while it’s certainly not a film for mass audiences, Tamhane’s striking outing is not a piece of artsy cinema for movie buffs only either. Spoken in Hindi, English and the local dialect Marathi, with both professional and non-professional actors, and with an extensive use of diverse locations serving as backdrops filled with plenty of social information, Court is both a marvellously understated court room drama with far-from-callous approach as well as an unflinchingly analytical portrayal of a dysfunctional judiciary system often ruled by laws that date back to the 19th century.
Narayan Kamble (Vira Sathidar) is a 65-year-old activist, agitator and folk-singer who visits with his troupe working-class neighbourhoods to raise awareness on a number of social conflicts. He’s arrested for seditious behaviour since it’s alleged that a sewer worker committed suicide after listening to one of his songs. Which, of course, doesn’t make any sense. The real reason is political more than anything else — in fact, Kamble had been arrested many times before on similar uncertain charges.
Vinay Vora (Vivek Gomber) is a well-learned, humanistic, and devoted defence attorney who takes up Kamble’s case, as he usually does with many other individuals often harassed by Indian laws. He’s confronted by a painstaking, knowledgeable public prosecutor who tries to do her best — and often succeeds — to have Kamble legally pay for his misdemeanours. As for the judge, let’s just say he follows procedures by the book and seems not to care about anything else.
But Court is not entirely confined to the court room: it examines the contrasting contexts in which the defence attorney and the public prosecutor live their everyday life. Also, the places they go to in their free time and the social activities they engage into. The contrast lies firstly in the fact that Vinay belongs to a well-off, upper class that’s part of an up-to-date India whereas the public prosecutor is a middle-class woman of a more traditional sector of society.
Secondly, while Vinay puts a great deal of personal interest in the case, the public prosecutor is solely concerned with doing her job as best as possible, without any consideration for the heart of the matter. Yet Tamhane luckily knows better than turning her into an unlikeable, one-dimensional character so there are some welcome nuances here and there.
With a fixed camera that captures the environment mostly in large shots, Tamhane scrutinizes the territory his characters inhabit and, in so doing, goes further into the characteristics of the two Indias and the relationships between them. It could be argued that the leisured editing — which makes shots last longer than usual — hampers the dramatic drive and may feel somehow tedious to some, and yet that would be a superficial appreciation. In order to immerse viewers into a multilayered, intricate scenario and have them experience the necessary sense of time and space, the shots have to last what they actually last.
Accordingly, the sound design and the photography fall into a continuous naturalistic vein, never calling attention to themselves. Just like the presence of the filmmaker, which is erased from the story he tells. There’s no room for mannerisms or shock value, no big revelations, meanings or conclusions — this is not Hollywood fare. Which is not to say this slow burner doesn’t grow dramatically or lacks its high points. On the contrary. But the thing is that it’s all conveyed in a more oblique and hushed manner.
And then there’s the unexpected, odd and ambiguous coda, which adds another dimension to an already rich panorama that seems to have more and more material to be explored and discussed, time and again.
Production notes
Court (India, 2014). Written and directed by Chaitanya Tamhane. With Vivek Gomber, Geetanjali Kulkarni, Pradeep Joshi, Vira Sathidar. Cinematography by Mrinal Desai. Editing by Rikhav Desai. Running time: 116 minutes.