Ek Chalis ki Last Local

Sanjay Khanduri – Birth of an auteur

He said to me in a casual conversation that he grew prematurely old during the making of Ek Chalis ki Last Local. He was probably referring to the hell he had to go through, managing the stars and staying true to his original script in spite of a whole lot of pressures from all quarters. At one point, they were shooting an item number to hype up the film with all kinds of dress changes for Neha Dhupia.

When you see the producer’s name in the credits where the director’s name should have been, you know what went on behind the scenes and the kind of humiliation this debutant director and film-writer has been subjected too.

His film is released and now he has to deal with shameless, cinematically illiterate, and fucked-up film reviewers and gabbers like Mayank Shekhar and Nikhat Kazmi. They have tried to run him down by writing dismissively about his masterpiece of a film in their columns for reasons that have certainly nothing to do with cinema appreciation. Are they being deliberately mean and malicious, out to put hurdles in the path of a fine filmmaker, who may not yet be in the list of their favourites? Who knows? Indian film industry is full of dirty bastards of all varieties.
 

They won’t succeed in putting down Sanjay Khanduri though. ‘Ek Chalis ki Last Local’ proves that he is too talented to be conveniently ignored by the Indian cinema establishment and pompous aficionados of dubious integrity.

Sanjay has achieved in his debut film what much hyped and celebrated directors of the industry have tried their hands at and have miserably failed. He has announced his arrival as a master storyteller who can make the audiences eat from his palm and ask for more. He has probably given us the first genuine black comedy-thriller of India in recent times and this is a cause for celebration for all those who are really passionate about cinema and eagerly look forward to exciting new developments in the field.

Sanjay Khanduri should feel triumphant and proud of his film. He can put behind the pain and humiliation and look forward to a bright future as a filmmaker who is true to his calling and we hope he does not disappoint us in whatever he does now on. His next film will be known as ‘A Sanjay Khanduri Film’ and nobody will dare to take the credit away from him any more. ‘Bhala ho upar waale ka, uske raaj mein der hai, par andher nahin’.

Suffering from a deep-seated sense of envy and being a perennial cynic about the ability of our filmmakers to come up with brilliant original writing, I was looking forward to some encyclopaedic reviewer informing me that ‘Ek Chalis ki...’ is a frame-to-frame copy of some exceptional European or Korean flick. So far, none has discovered the original source. Except a few Tarantino touches here and there, it can be taken as an original screenplay, since there is no evidence so far to prove anything otherwise.

It is a well-honed and smartly crafted screenplay - a rare phenomenon these days. It should be preserved to train wannabe film writers about the art of great screenplay and dialogue writing and storytelling. It has very little that can be called redundant and out of place. Every word, dialogue, and scenario contributes to the narrative structure, the plot, and the premise of the film. The film’s story starts at a desirable slow pace and gains momentum as its premise and characters get set and going. And when they get going, they really and truly get going, sweeping you off your feet, with great dialogues, characterisations, and world-class performances, barring a few glitches here and there, if compared with the best work done in the genre. A debutant deserves to be forgiven such minor aberrations.

Khalid Mohammad blames the film for overindulgence. If this is overindulgence, Tarantino and Scorsese films are exercises in hyper-indulgence. And Khalid Mohammad is an incarnation of overindulgent verbosity.

‘Ek Chalis...’ is a classically simple tale, based on a typical lower middle class fantasy, of how an underdog gets rich overnight by the quirk of fate. A call centre employee Abhay Deol, who misses his last local train of 1.40 AM, meets Neha Dhupia who too has missed the train and is stranded. Both of them have to go to Vikhroli. All their attempts to get an auto or taxi bear no fruit. They decide to pass time, sitting in a dance bar, owned by Ponnapa, a devotee of Ayappa whose left, right, and middle hand man is Bhujang, a one eyed jack. Abhay meets one of his old roommates in the bar who has become big now. His friend invites him to take part in a game of teen patti (flash) with big stakes. This leads to some very dramatic developments involving a couple of murderous underworld gangs with their trigger-happy goons and mean hearted greedy cops. Abhay and Neha’s survival is at stake now. But they do survive and Abhay gets to know the real identity of Neha. He also gets rich by two and a half crores by the time the first morning local leaves Kurla station.

The film’s screenplay provides ample scope for even minor characters to leave big impact. As a result, actors excel and deliver power-packed performances of rare kinds. They all fit into their roles and live them with great gusto and high-octane energy. It is Abhay Deol and Neha Dhupia, the stars of the film, who are found wanting at times.

Who says we don’t have world-class acting talent in India? We have great actors lying by the road side and who can beat the best in the world. ‘Ek Chalis ki Last Local’ is the proof of that. What they need are competent directors and writers. Where are these competent directors and writers? You need perceptive producers to discover them. And what are the producers looking for? Of course a writer and a director who can rope in the stars. And most of these Kishor Namit Kapoor trained stars turn out to be bad actors.

‘Ek Chalis...’ is also a noteworthy film for its mise en scène, which is the most ignored, and the least explored dimension of the Bollywood variety of filmfaking since the advent of designer filmmakers like Sanjay Bhansali and Karan Johar, the creators of star studded mishmash celluloid operas. Everything fits into place in this film: camera angles and placements, settings, lighting, costumes, characterisations, shot divisions, performances and its tone and tenor. It is organically integrated. You can feel it: palpably, intuitively, and deep within your guts. This is a rare achievement worth being emulated by others. Surprisingly, Sanjay has not been to a film school, yet he seems to possess the sensibilities, and the visual appreciation of a true filmmaker and a serious student of cinema.

Above all, the film works with its audience (those who make it to the theatres), holds its attention, and carries it along. It leaves an impact, negative, positive, or whatever. The moralising Rediff.com reviewer and Khalid Mohammed apparently didn’t like the sodomy scene, the most hilarious of all. It is first-rate gag writing that will make you go mad with uncontrollable laughter. The film is worth a few visits to the cinema hall for that scene alone.

Go ahead and watch the film and screw those who are writing negative things about it. They are just being jealous. Probably, they didn’t expect the film to be so brilliant and hate being shocked and surprised by a genius act, with their crabby mindset, a well-known Indian trait.

RKS

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