A friend from Bihar exclaimed over the phone during the Deepawali weekend. “What’s this film, Kantara that has made everyone’s mind go dhuan dhuan in towns and villages here?!” For the uninitiated, it’s typical Deepawali imagery to denote excitement over something. So, imagine the effect Rishab Shetty’s moneyspinner has had on the Hindi belt that even the average film lover in the remotest part of Bihar couldn’t evade its fascinating grip. Bihar, a place, you might reason, that possibly has no clear similarities with Tulunadu’s interiors, where Kantara was filmed and where the lore is based. But then, if you think in the context of Bharat’s ancient beliefs of Hindu religious rituals, traditions and customs, every part of this country is bound by a common thread of devotion. That is the call of divinity Kantara has evoked in the majority.
Backed up by nil explanations or justifications Shetty’s treatise is an unapologetic celebration of the indigenous beliefs of Tulunadu’s tribal Sanatan civilization. Released roughly a month before Hindus in the country celebrated Deepawali, its success also resembles the emphatic manner in which the festival was observed this year in the face of constant communist propaganda to deride, mock and target only Hindu festivals. Just like we did Deepawali this year with Indian mithai and magnificent firecrackers, Kantara proudly and boldly flaunted its Hindu identity by crafting a riveting saga depicting the Bhoota Kola traditions observed in the forest villages there. The layered narrative incorporates many important subjects and elements about land conflicts, the role of women and human flaws and follies but every subplot is deftly balanced without any shred of guilt or remorse. That is another beauty in the magical world of Kantara, which has found praise and love from the masses not only in India but also in the world for its nuanced and relatable content.
The fierce feeling of Deep Devotion
While it is unfair to give out spoilers here but any discussion on the film would be incomplete without referring to the spectacular climax where the protagonist Shiva (played by writer and director Shetty himself) finds himself empowered by the call of Guliga, the Daiva who destroys those who wrong the villagers. Be it in the body language, the dance or the expressions, there is an unrelenting display of passion in his war cry as he vanquishes evil. The imagery is almost of an angry Shiva doing the taandav of destruction after being invoked by Daiva (the hero’s personality arc is also drawn on the lines of Mahadev where he is seen to destroy as well as protect.
His tree house, where he hangs around with his friends, is also named Kailasa, a direct reference to Bhagwan Shiv’s eternal abode). Threading together a religious tradition practised in Tulunadu since ancient times, the movie celebrates an art form but does it with deep devotion. Honestly, the cinematography and choreography touch a raw nerve in the audience who feels the divinity depicted. It’s almost as if the audience finds a voice that cries out, “Yes, this is our culture and we shall own it. Whoever tries to belittle these beautiful traditions of ours, we shall silence them with the strength in our beliefs.”
Considering that the climax, which binds the entire story in a comprehensive whole, is the high point of the blockbuster, the film has given a fat chance to the Hindu majority to be proud of their religion, traditions, beliefs and customs unapologetically. The time to clam up is over. The film is representative of the fact that today a Hindu is much more enthusiastic and bold about flaunting visible symbols of his faith. Earlier, under the attack of the Left and Islamist cabal, he might have been ashamed to celebrate his traditions and icons openly but this marks an inner shift in the identity of self-acceptance and pride. The Hindu has found his voice and it is here to stay!
Chronicling the true colours of an Indian village
The Indian parallel cinema movement, with communist/socialist narratives rampantly brainwashing viewers, had always painted Bharatiya villages as depressing, joyless lands. This resulted in the masses getting disillusioned by the picture of dismay presented of their heritage and roots. Kantara’s legends are derived from the divine land of Tulunadu which is blessed with thick rainforests and a rich culture deeply rooted in tradition and the lore of the land. Every frame of the film is an ode to that diversity. From Kambala racing, and Yakshagana to Daivaradhane, every single aspect of local culture is sensitively depicted with the respect it deserves without belittling them as ‘folk culture’ or attempting to trivialise ancient beliefs, in the name of modernisation. Instead, Shetty’s pen delves deep to maintain the delicate balance between nature and human activity. The glorious co-existence of tribals and the respect they pay to nature is incessantly harped upon.
Every frame (the cinematography by Arvind S Kashyap is a charming play of rustic originality and passionate candour) is a detailed, authentic representation of the rural culture, lifestyle and lands of Tulunadu, from the rain-splattered dirt paths, the mud and cow-dung tulsi Vrindavanas, the adike shringara, the humble but practical clothes or fresh arecanut flowers offered to the Daiva to the outdoor bathrooms built from woven palm fronds. If masses from all over India found a resonance with the film, it also means these vignettes remind them of their village roots and homes they probably pined for sitting in urban concrete jungles. Shiva and his pals live simple lives, and eat frugal (but fresh) food, but they nurture mutual respect and love for each other. They fob off problems by supporting each other and not once does it look like they hate their lives in the village. In fact, such is their devotion towards their motherland that they go to great, and spiritual, lengths to protect it from the evil eye.
Rationalising the Nature and Man conflict
J Sai Deepak’s India that is Bharat studies the sacred bond between Mother Earth and humans that Bharatiya culture always nurtured and worshipped through effective modes to balance the need for preserving nature with human desires and aspirations. The concept of sacred forests, water bodies protected by guardian deities or worshipping rivers as sanctimonious entities were all Hindu ways of protecting and preserving the purity of nature. Colonial rule tried to uproot all these traditions and indigenous ways of eco-protection under the guise of modernity. Local communities were forcibly stripped off of their roles as sacred custodians of the natural environment, and that role was usurped by the state.
The film clearly depicts how this has given rise to conflicts between an all-powerful state that neither understands nor respects local traditions as well as culture and communities that are no longer stakeholders. This struggle enables selfish elements to exploit nature at the cost of both, the state and the communities. The devious landlord represents this mindset. Kantara thus becomes a dialogue to reclaim the holistic balance between Mother Nature and human activity through age-old traditions and culture. Offering hope, the narrative hints that the state-community partnership can possibly be a respectful solution to the man-nature conflict. Local communities need to identify themselves as sacred custodians of the environment, and the state machinery can enable that. How impeccable would that settlement be!
Reclaiming our civilizational roots
Kantara has shown what life in remote hamlets of tribal areas is all about through an intricate tapestry of music (B Ajaneesh Loknath’s score is impeccably rousing as well as heartstoppingly beautiful), dance and drama. Simple lives, meaningful rituals, drinking habits, food traditions and finally, their beliefs and reverence for their Gods are all shown through a narrative that is relatable to the masses so that the effect is supreme. The love story, quite practically shows that carnal desires are part of the emotion but nothing is cheap or crassly presented. Women have a strong voice and an important role to play in the film. They are not merely sidekicks. Human flaws are not hidden in the script but neither are they harped on. In fact, this realism and fine-tuning is what makes Kantara a sensorial and spiritual delight. If a cultural renaissance could be transcribed through cinema, Rishab Shetty has shown how that is to be done. Perhaps the audience has understood through this movie that it’s high time we recognize the good work happening in cinema and reclaim our roots through that powerful vocabulary.
