- Date of Release: 22 November 2024
- Genre: Drama
- Language: Hindi
- Watch On: Theatres Only
I Want To Talk
Introduction
There are a couple of factors that immediately set things to context in the new Hindi film I Want To Talk. Firstly, the setting of the drama in America, a land with several scenic wonders that remain utilized in the drama. In fact, the alienness of the land is that one aspect of the drama that remains true through the drama – given that most of the events unfold under the confines of a hospital or a living room, while seldom being outdoors. This essentially also sums up the life of Arjun Sen (Abhishek Bachchan), a marketing honcho whose life is fast-deteriorating into phases of the hospital and living room, while never getting a chance to explore the beauty of life (read : outdoors) in the purest form. But that is hardly the impression that Arjun gives to his viewers in his first appearance – he likes to believe that he is a marketing genius who likes selling ‘lies’ to people, basically by ‘manipulating’ his stakeholders even based on even ‘average’ products. Ironically, he doesn’t like the words ‘average’ and ‘manipulating’ tagged to his life, until tragedy bestows. Essentially, his life soon turns out to be the ‘cheese pull’ on the pizza that he is shown to market (wherein he loved to talk and talk and talk), until the strings of the cheese representing his life, soon start snapping.
Story & Screenplay
A closer look at the premise of I Want To Talk, and you will realise that it is a spiritual cousin of Shoojit Sircar’s previous two films – October and Piku. Like in October that deals with an empathetic relationship between Dan and Shiuli, the relationship in focus here is of Arjun with his doctor (Jayant Kripalani), with the latter being quite the impatient kind with Arjun. In a scene, you see Arjun carrying a diagram of the larynx after being diagnosed with Laryngeal Cancer, only to request his doctor to simulate his procedure on the diagram. It was Arjun’s way of both being in denial about the status of his illness while fearing the worst, as a byproduct of his illness. Previously you see Arjun breaking down and going into a meltdown only once, while subconciously being manipulative about his life in such a way so as to cheat death, every single time. Hence, this manipulative nature of his does rub on to his doctor too, who has to bear with his talks and subject him to a treatment just like a project.
A deep dive into Arjun’s early life reveals his rocky nature of his marriage, that easily extends to his aloofness towards his daughter Reya. What begins as a medium of being duty-bound towards his child, soon transforms into a space that is discreet of his illness. In a way Arjun downplays his own illness to the world, so as to steer clear from the sympathies that he would garner from his family and friends. It is often synonymous to the portrayal of a hero on celluloid who is shown to romanticize with his illness, all for the story to revolve around the central character who suddenly becomes the center of attention. But in Arjun’s life, Arjun is the anti-hero of sorts – often confining to his own space and task to dodge the limelight, only to be pulled back in focus by the fringe elements (for a lack of a better word) in his life. So you do see him driving himself to the hospital for treatment, while swallowing the horrors of not only being ill but undergoing a divorce and losing out on his idea of an American dream by being fired from his job. Yet, you see the characters of Johny Lever being his silent support, or the character of the nurse who ironically puts him back on the right path after identifying his suicidal tendencies. Guess, it takes one going through it to help out another!
Yet, it can’t be denied that you see shades of Sircar’s film Piku too, particularly with Arjun’s relationship with his daughter Reya. There are a number of surgeries that Arjun undergoes, each one casually coming with a jump in time. Yet, Reya is only familiar with his aloofness as a child that slowly slips into a space of self-realisation towards her father. In a startling scene, you see her confronting her father to show her his scars in order to avoid a bunch of rumours around her stating that Arjun was faking it. Sure, Arjun was a flawed individual but Reya did come to a realisation that she too was duty-bound towards her father. It was symbolic of the relationship parents share with their children – they only reveal the happier side of their individual lives to their children, keeping the issues to themselves until children become familiarized with that side, coaxing them to understand their parents better. Yet, the relationship of Arjun and Reya isn’t completely a smooth ride – you see him being an overprotective father while sounding her about her irresponsible behavior only to be snapped back by Reya saying that his divorce didn’t have the right implications on her life either. This is a statement that highlights the underlying crux of their relationship.
It is worth pondering on, that the tone of the drama is never as frivolous as Piku, neither is it too hollow as October, emotionally speaking. The tone here is playful almost deconstructing the very sentiments of death, bybalmost ridiculing it through the actions of Arjun. In a scene, Arjun gets to know that only 5 percent of his stomach would remain, post one of the many surgeries that he has undergone – to which he casually states that he is a gutless person. It is Arjun’s way of living his life – his defence mechanism that unfolds like a game of chess with death as his opponent . And so while he acknowledges that death will eventually win once, the smaller victories is what Arjun thrives on – each of the victories represent a new lease of life for him (even as he witnesses his near ones pass away one by one). This is true even during the marathon sequence – a sequence that represents the life of Arjun, huffing and puffing to the finishing line (death) but seldom giving up despite being last (signifying his sickness and his tryst with life in general). These are the smaller moments that eventually cumulative into an emotional deluge – a man that invariably gives hope to the world but ironically, never wishing to be in the limelight. Overall, the screenplay is brilliantly penned and makes for a wonderful watch!
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues are conversational but profound with the depth that they possess. Yet, there is a sparkling layer of hope in the form of humour that engulfs the narrative, something that goes with the theme of the drama of being anti-romantic and lesser melodramatic towards the concept of death. The BGM uses silence wonderfully as a virtue for raw emotions of the scene to essentially overpower and represent the drama in its purest form. The cinematography is ringed with subtle bouts of humour with the frames highlighting the traits of characters that are on the fringes. For instance, you don’t generally associate the trait of impatience with a character who is a doctor, but notice the frames tactfully capturing his changed expressions every time Arjun approaches him. The editing is used efficiently to represent time jumps in the screenplay while often associating a plot point with one of the surgeries of Arjun. There isn’t a clear demarcation but more on the lines of continuing in the same breath, that allows the emotions to be transferred from one scene to another in a cohesive manner. Director Shoojit Sircar is a master of understated emotions, but in that regard I Want To Talk was a very different kind of a film. Because through this drama, he wished for the viewers to focus on the present state of his protagonist without consciously wanting to empathize with him. It was his way of ‘removing the cancer’ (read : emotions) in the film while presenting his protagonist in the rawest form. And therein lies the victor of the filmmaker who is always willing to push the envelope of celluloid and present humane tales with starkly different emotions. And I Want To Talk is another winner in his wonderful filmography.
Performances
The performances are excellent by the members of the cast. The little girl Pearle Dey essaying the younger version of Reya is absolutely wonderful to witness, while successfully establishing the distance with her father Arjun. Johny Lever is righteous and earnest while seamlessly contributing through a few laughs in the screenplay. Kristin Goddard as the nurse delivers a heartfelt performance, particularly because the viewers at a point are too consumed with Arjun and his antics that her own feelings and mental state is severely ignored, until it is too late. Jayant Kripalani as the doctor is exceptional and just so effortless with his immaculate performance that is understated and laced with subtle bouts of humour. Ahilya Bamroo as Reya delivers a terrific performance that is wonderfully understated, with a range of emotions that are nicely suppressed, only to be let out in lesser unassuming moments. And her screen presence is wonderful to witness too. Abhishek Bachchan almost nonchalantly delivers yet another towering performance as Arjun Sen. This was particularly a difficult character simply because he invariably transformed into a different person after every surgery. So while the traits were the same, the amount of physicality involved was varied and different. In that regard, Abhishek masterfully touches upon the right notes associated with his character and delivers a powerfully moving act that is unassuming with his approach. He was simply brilliant to witness.
Conclusion
I Want To Talk is a brilliant anti-romanticism of death packaged in a wonderfully muted drama about life and hope that makes for a rather moving and fulfilling watch. Available in a theatre near you and Highly Recommended!
