Piku: A slice of life

As referral points go, Piku, for some reason, evokes memories of Romanian New Wave master Cristian Mungiu’s Palme D’Or winner 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, not for its searing emotional almost thriller-like core, but for how characters transcend cinema and become real.

Much like the famous ‘Last Supper’ sequence in the film, a lot of Piku happens around dining tables, where  there is so much cacophony and cross-talking, and you, as viewer, gets transported right into the midst of it.

Recommended For You

Iran says will stop complying with peace deal if US does not honour commitments

UAE says 2 tankers hit by Iran cruise missiles; Indian crew member killed, 8 injured

Iran Guards say hit bases in Jordan, Kuwait, Bahrain after US retaliatory strikes

Trump to reimpose Iranian blockade, apply 20% fees on all cargo ships in Hormuz

Kuwait says three border posts, offshore oil platform attacked

 

 Not in recent times has Bollywood seen people behaving as people and not as characters. There are no dialogue cues, everything appears spontaneous, and while director Shoojit Sircar doesn’t go the Mungiu-way of single-shot perfection, the seamless switch of camera (and editing) from one face to the other at the dinner table, makes for some of the finest scenes in Indian cinema of late.

 Piku, clearly, is a winner, led by sensible, inspired and fantastically creative writing (by Juhi Chaturvedi of Vicky Donor fame). You can watch on and on the constant bickering of the three protagonists for hours and not realise time tick by. Every one of them is quirky in his or her own way, and has a natural candour rare in mainstream cinema.

Other than panning through the mundane lives of Bhashkor Banerjee (Amitabh Bachchan), his daughter Piku (Deepika Padukone) and Rana Chaudhary (the taxi service operator who turns driver to take the Banerjees from Delhi to Kolkata), on the face of it, Piku offers no great friction or great catharsis. There are no grand revelations during the journey or after, other than life closing a chapter and opening another – just like that, without wild drama.

That might also call for contentions about Piku’s artistic merit. But judging so is to undermine the film’s intelligence because it is a slice of life, and how Bhaskhor, Piku and Rana behave and react are the way people do. They throw tantrums, bicker for nothing and ultimately are connected by love (not the glorified romance) but respect, care, affection, giving room to be, and genuine concern.

 For those looking for messages, there are many here, but not in your face. Even if you don’t read in too much into the potty and constipation talk that permeates through the film, you might walk away wanting to express a bit more of love to your parents (even if they are whiny and temperamental as the ‘parents’ in Piku are.) You might just want to be kinder to that man or woman who seems to be in a perennial tantrum spree. You just might want to be a better person.

 Piku, naturally, is performance driven. Amitabh shows again how fantastic an actor he can be in the right roles and with the right director. He is irritatingly real, a great performance triumph. Irrfan Khan, well, what else can you say but ‘hats off’: another outstanding role from a marvellous actor.

 However, Piku is Deepika Padukone’s career-best and she moves to the next level from Finding Fanny. While her ethereal grace keeps you glued to the screen, her inspired and utter surrender to the role gives Piku its soul.

 At just two hours, Piku is a breeze; this is not Bollywood at all, and if you want to discover good Indian cinema, here is a must-watch.