'Three of Us': A Review.

 

There was a time when watching a movie would be an immersive experience.  For three hours (or less/more) you would be transported to a different world.   You felt you were a character in the melee and you had a stake in the goings-on.  And, this experience wasn’t limited to watching only movies made by auteurs; you could experience it even while watching a masala movie.  Those days are well and truly gone.  Most movies that we end up watching don’t stay in mind an hour after we have watched today.  Sometimes, I wonder if all the stories that ought to be told have already been and there’s nothing left to say!

Out of the blue, a friend messaged – as a response to the new year wishes – and suggested I watch a movie.  I agreed, more to be civil than actually meaning it.  I do not tend to watch much stuff on the OTT – unless it’s some mindless escapist series – like ‘The One Piece’, or ‘The Umbrella Academy’ (I am not into gritty ‘Mirzapur’ kind of stuff).  But, then, I watched the trailers on Netflix and chose to give it a try. 

The movie the friend recommended was, ‘Three of Us’.  It tells the story of a woman in her 40s who is afflicted with dementia.  Shailaja (played brilliantly by Shefali Shah) tells her husband Dipankar (Swanand Kirkire, the famed lyricist throws in a surprise as a competent actor) that she wants to travel to Vengurla, a small town in Maharashtra, where she grew up as a kid.  He agrees and they travel to the sleepy little town by the sea.  This opens up chapters from her life that Dipankar was unaware of, and Shailaja had never spoken about.  They together meet Shailaja’s friends from her past, visit the house she grew up in, and explore the place along with Pradeep Kamat, Shailaja’s classmate and best friend of those days (Jaideep Ahlawat, understatedly awesome).

As a viewer, you know that the trip will have repercussions, and it was done with a purpose.  You wonder in the beginning though not knowing what they are/would be.  And, you discover along the way, as the director throws hints.  Ultimately, Shailaja faces her demons from childhood, seeks forgiveness, and finds closure and solace with her trip, even as she wonders what would future entail with her growing dementia.

The movie plays out languorously, like a sunny, breezy day at the beach.  You soak up all the sun, taking in the heady smells of the sea, and bathe in the glow of the sunset, as you watch it.  You know the time that you spend will never come back.  You know there is regret, grief.  You also know it is happiness.  The pace of the movie is unhurried, like the pace of our lives on a relaxing weekend.  Every scene plays out naturally, as it is mounted with love and affection.  The movie is devoid of melodrama, and yet it is bittersweet, meloncholic.  When it is finally over, you pine for some more of it. 

The music is first rate (Alokananda Dasgupta; it is rare to find women music directors and I hope she would find more work). The cinematography is unobtrusive and beautiful, and the dialogues are akin to how we possibly speak in our own lives. There is nothing that would make you cringe or think it was inappropriate or fake. The director (Avinash Arun) does not fill the movie with characters to keep the proceedings going, nor does he introduce any subplots to just fill the reels.  He appears to know exactly what he is doing.  Even the denouement is captured with very little sentimentality (even though the emotions run high). Masterful.

Each of the actors in the movie has done more than enough to keep you glued to the seat and invested in the plot.  You travel along with them, explore the sleepy Vengurla, become one with its sea and the beach, and smile and grieve with them.  It is rare to see such little gems find light and audience in the era of noise.  I am glad I watched it.  I recommend you do too.  And, tell me if I was wrong.