Film: Qala
On: Netflix
Director: Anvita Dutt
Actors: Tripti Dimri, Swastika Mukherjee, Babil Khan
Rating: 3/ 5
In terms of mediocrity and talent, jealousy and ambition, think of Qala as anti-thesis of, say, A Star Is Born—the templated film, with multiple remakes on the same theme. It is just as external, as this one is internal—drawing out the lead character’s struggles within, while she’s unable to express it to the world outside.
So much so that all through, as the period film seamlessly flits between past and present, I kept wondering about its exact setting in history. We know the heroine, as a young adult, has a marriage proposal from a suitable boy, serving in Royal Air Force, which means it’s pre-independence.
The heroine in the present—hardly that old, really—compliments a female, professional photographer for her pictures of Indira Gandhi. The Indira years could be anywhere ’60s onwards.
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None of which matters in the scheme of things. Let alone the world beyond—we barely get any idea of the film-world that this movie is set within. The protagonist is a leading playback singer.
The filmmakers here are wholly focussed, like the heroine herself, on the life of her mind—memories and guilt, loneliness and pain. Such a serene, somnolent, even slightly surreal film—because of the superficial nature of the medium itself—is as hard to make, as it is to watch, by viewers, attuned to more mainstream ways, anyway. Yes, you have to sit through overlong stretches beyond bothering with the usual set-up, payoff routine.
Qala belongs to the golden age of home entertainment for India, in particular, where audiences are willing to expand their range, along with taste. Likewise, platforms like Netflix are happy to foot the global bill. Another case in point, given music + mediocrity for theme: Chaitanya Tamhane’s The Disciple (2020), best Indian film of the decade (so far!)—also playing at a Netflix near you.
Theatre-wallahs, on the other hand, would’ve been obsessed with Day One footfalls alone. Few may have walked in—causing heartburn to a bunch of well-meaning, capable blokes, who wished to aesthetically express themselves, that’s all. This film exudes a strongly feminist voice, with a quiet, experiential quality to it. That in itself makes it a rare Hindi movie!
The title Qala here, to be sure, is ‘kala’, as in art—like, say, Kala Nagar (artists’ colony), where late cartoonist-politician Bal Thackeray lived in Bombay. And not ‘kala’—as in Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Black (2004).
Although look/feel wise, the exquisite Qala Nagar, created for the screen here, could be closer to Bhansali’s Black—almost entirely indoors, with a gently depressing palette; natural light streaming in through large windows; portions of Victorian opulence, under flickering candle lamps… Notably, overdressed cast, and extras—always in three-piece suits, in Bombay.
The film is decidedly a playground for a first-rate production designer (Meenal Agarwal). Use of colours in closed spaces for a filmy world-building, makes Qala also a legit extension from the horror-fantasy, Bulbbul (2020), screenwriter Anvita Dutt’s debut as director.
This is Dutt’s second, also starring the ethereal Tripti Dimri as heroine, and on whom the picture is wholly centred. Making Dimri, the director’s own discovery, her movie-muse of sorts. We’ve known male directors and their male-hero muses forever in the movies. Glad to see genders reverse.
Bulbbul (Nightingale) was, in a sense, a film about the eponymous protagonist, physically trapped in a cage—the same way the lead character that Qala is titled after, and who’s also referred to as the bird, koel (cuckoo), senses complete mental imprisonment.
But she’s incarcerated by her past. Only, the actions leading to it are her own. I liked Qala over Bulbbul (also on Netflix), foremost, because it is a musical, in the desi construct—meaning, full of songs, reprising the golden era of Hindi cinema (music), through vivid inspirations; not remixes.
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It’s an Amit Trivedi soundtrack—that, like all good stuff, I guess, will take a few listen-ins, to find its place—the song, Shauq, I suspect, has sunk in already.
Qala is, of course, about a professional playback singer’s life. While you can tell minor references to Hemant Kumar (Amit Sial) here, or KL Saigal (Sameer Kochchar) there—it is, from everything I know, a totally fictional Bollywood account. Can’t classify it as biopic, all of them are hagiographies anyway!
This one delves into some interesting spaces, examining the place of both the woman, and popular arts, back in the day. Just consider the names of famous female singers then, being suffixed with ‘Bai’, for a courtesan. Male dons of high-brow Hindustani classical were always pandits, ustads.
The girl Qala belongs to one such accomplished family. There’s a lot of pressure to perform then—riyaaz and royalty alone won’t help. Her mother (Swastika Mukherjee) finds another boy more talented.
Young Babil Khan plays this part. He is the great, late Irrfan’s son. It’s his first film. Glad he hasn’t taken unnecessary pressure to act the hell out of this role, keeping it simple, straight. Wish him well.
