Don’t call this a movie review … I would call this a movie rambling…

It’s not easy to convert a 15 pager into a 150 mins 35 mm movie… it’s more difficult if the concept is abstract and all the more if the viewer is unable to picture himself/herself in the frame!
Right since childhood I have a strange habit… to relate whatever I see or read with myself. Every book that I have read I have been in search of a character just like me or similar to me. In childhood when the pink fat book of fairy tales was the eternal companion an overdose of Cinderella, snow white had led me to think if I too was a lost princess… but then again the demented mind accepted the set of parents that tolerated me and I moved on…
Has it ever happened to you that you read a book to realise that the character thinks like you or watch a movie where you feels it’s you on screen… or that a specific song was penned just for you… Well those who know what I am talking about would also know that I am not hinting at the going-round-trees kind of situations… I am talking about things we feel are akin to our lives on screen…
Well here lies the flaw with the movie “Japanese Wife” … or at least that’s what I feel…
If you watched the movie as a piece of work without dialogues you would still be able to make out what is going on and perhaps be more mesmerised that Rahul Bose’s flawed attempt at “I hab to tell you this” kind of rustic English!
The movie engulfs you with its photography, the picturesque take on the Sunderban’s and the enthralling “riber” Matla! There’s a particular scene which awed me – where Rahul Bose and the young little boy are putting up the “manja threads’ to dry in their courtyard… the colour play of the varied threads made the screen come alive… this is a scene which shall remain in my mind long after even the critics forget the movie…
As for the movie, you know what I realised something today if there’s something which we feel can happen only in story books and not in reality we can never accept it on screen no matter how many raves it creates as a story in the literary society. A couple married through letters, bound through imagination and tied through the gifts that bear their touches is too much a fairy tale for the modern world to believe in when playing on screen.
The story belongs to that era which you would like to read and muse on the author’s thinking but not accept it to ever be played by even whom we know as actors – may be coz oi je bollam (as I said) we cannot relate to them when they play their parts on screen…
The movie will not stick to your mind coz there’s no dialogue you can repeat in your daily lives, no scene which makes you recollect any past rendezvous you had with life… it would just make you recall the yellow coloured book where it features … for it has little existence beyond that…
Or as Gulzaar would have put it “Rishte kuch bas bandh kitaabon mein hi aache lagte hai” (some relationship sonly look good within the closed pages of the book”…
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To make another blog for the little something to follow wouldn’t be justified so I continue, but this is not a movie rambling…
After the movie Ma, Chotoma were discussing it … Chotoma being the critique that she is and being a person from the same field decided to rip the movie apart.. while we heard and acceded and dissented… she said this all of a sudden “The movie maker forgot that the audience will not relate to the fact that you can live the entire youth and old age only with the aid of memories of something fleeting and illusory…”
Ma just looked at me and kept staring … till I lowered my eyes and stared away… I knew what she wanted to convey… but Ma I am not ready to accept this still … It’s only been 7 years… I need 77 more I think to outgrow the memories of that life whose breaths were counted but which has left behind the memories of a lifetime…

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As of now I resort back to the above rambling and leave you with this…

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