The first glimpses I caught of Irrfan were from "New York, I Love You", in a segment directed by the brilliant Mira Nair. I guess that is poetic, because she is often credited with discovering Irrfan. In the segment, Irrfan is cast as an Indian diamond merchant (Mansukhbhai) who shares a mystical affection with his client, a Hasidic woman (Rifka) played by Natalie Portman. It's a beautiful segment that makes the viewer wish it was much longer. The gist of the segment is that Mansukhbhai and Rifka are embedded in two distinctly different communities, at clashing junctures of life. Rifka is about to get married to her fiance while Mansukhbhai has a wife, who has left him and their kids to become a Jain nun. They recognize their predicament, made strange and special by the affection and love they have for each other - the kind that happens when you've known a person over a long time on fond, yet non-intimate terms. In this conundrum, they acknowledge their bittersweet reality. They sigh, they smile, and indulge in vivid imaginations of being wed to each other. They deliver a moment of clarity.
For me, this is what Irrfan's cinema has always been about - moments of clarity and truth. First, a confession, I've not yet covered some of his earlier cinematography, the more gutsy, relatively less popular, independent work - the likes of Maqbool or Qissa. Heck, I have not yet seen The Namesake or Salaam Bombay, despite my love for Mira Nair's work. It is a quaint thing I do - save good cinema for later - sort of like saving the last piece of a delicious cake, for fear of running out of novel experiences, once I've indulged in them. I digress.
Even if one were to consider Irrfan's most recent set of films, the ones that brought him mainstream attention and multiplex popularity, they're peppered with moments of realization, honesty, and beauty - of truth and clarity. I'm talking about Piku, Qarib Qarib Single, Karwaan, Haider, The Lunchbox, the works. In all these films, whether they center on Irrfan's characters or use him as a support, he seemed to become a window - into life, its questions and answers. In Piku, he was a curious man, inquisitive, pushing Piku to question her moralities. In Karwaan and Qarib Qarib Single, he was wise and redemptive, he knew life, catalyzing the narrative. In The Lunchbox, Irrfan became the one that is pushed, catalyzed, and ultimately, redeemed.
At a pivotal point in this film about a father-daughter duo, the daughter asks the father to grow up, putting his ambitious yet impractical self aside to think about their future. This struck me as a rather unusual plot point in this largely subversive musical-comedy-drama. You see, more often than not, when we encounter a film about musicians and artists, we see young, optimistic artists, with a penchant to thrive in the music industry, only dissuaded by the cynicism of the elders around them. These stories then become either about tragically failed careers or about success against all odds.
But “Hearts Beat Loud” chooses to tread a different line, telling a typical tale rather originally. In a quaint corner of Brooklyn, Frank Fisher, a record store owner is about to close his business. His daughter, Sam, is about to join pre-med school. Their evenings involve jamming with each other in their apartment, making random music. At first, both are pragmatic, treating music as nothing more than a past time, a way to de-stress after a long day.
But when his daughter records a sample of an inspiring original song, Frank sees a spark in her, urging her to complete the recording. He even sneaks it onto Spotify without her knowledge. When it starts garnering hits and the interest of record labels, he starts aspiring big - a full album contract, a tour, the works. But the daughter rejects his propositions, adamant about staying grounded. She doesn’t think there is a career in music for her, choosing instead to focus on med school.
There is a larger piece to be written about the emergence of quality comedy cinema in the 21st century. It is almost a genre in itself - one that does not confine itself to traditional genres like farce or screwball. Films in this genre masterfully avoid several pitfalls - of storyline fatigue, character banality, context unoriginality, representation and portrayal problems, and unenthusiastic tone. Beyond all this, these films, most importantly, get the jokes and writing right. But to cap it all off, these films don't take themselves too seriously, or else, they wouldn't be comedies after all. Comedies need to be fun, and these movies are, while being just good cinema in the first place.
Olivia Wilde's "Booksmart" exemplifies this kind of cinema. The very short way to describe this film would be to say that it is very good and a lot of fun. But then, that would be disrespectful. The movie’s good parts are a lot of fun for even the casual enthusiast of cinema. The movie’s fun parts get some of the best execution of the moment.
Atlantic City says so much about two people in a relationship, without saying too much.
A comedy that is fun, while being just good cinema in the first place.