continued
from part 1
Part
- 3
Ganga,
following the request of Bhageeratha to help his ancestors attain
salvation, gushes out from the heavens in a ceaseless flow.
Lord Siva, acting on the request of Bhageeratha again, promises
to ebb her flow and release her in a controlled and a phased
manner. The frame, a marvelous close-up, starts at the Siva's
visage, with his trinetraalu looking up, anticipating the mighty
mad dash of Ganga. A little above, his jaTajooTaalu spread out
in all possible directions to accommodate her. Up above the
frame, Ganga, wrapped up in white robes descends from the heavens,
like bundles of joy unfettered by the wreaths of heaven (sura
Srunkhalamulu tenchi), like chortles of laughter uncontrolled
by the customs of heaven, like the flow of free will unshackled
from the traditions of heaven.
The
movie - Seeta Kalyanam (1976). This entire movie is a
series of beautiful frames one after the other, that could be
each singly be reminisced, recollected, and marveled at. It
is easy (relatively) to establish, and thus trademark, one's
style through the usage of words. The words have a certain sense
of rhythm; they usually follow a flow and work around in an
established pattern that is unique and recognizable, most of
the times. But a visual style, on the other hand, is quite arduous
to arrive upon, without following gimmickry and resorting to
cheap tricks. Interpreting a scene at hand by either positioning
the camera or the movement of it, which is done for most often
times, relies on the words being spoken by the characters. A
character yells something in shock and the camera zooms in to
register the shock and convey the idea that the character is
indeed shocked. Now, only when the words are taken away out
of the equation and the onus of true story-telling (or screenplay-interpreting)
technique falls entirely on the director, does the term visual
style comes into play.
Case
in point - mutyaala muggu - The point that needs to be
conveyed here is that of intimacy between the lead characters
- A few days into their marriage, Sridhar and Sangeeta walk
into their garden, prance around in a playful manner, engage
in joyful and playful banter and finally consummate. The entire
sequence, with a running time of a few minutes, shot as a montage,
does not rely on a single spoken word, but the combination of
framing, the (excellent) background score of a sole mandolin,
and the black & white-ish photography (the movie is in Eastman
color) of Ishan Arya, evokes the idea of true bonding between
the characters, without the usual routine duet or heavy dialogues.
Shot
division - within a scene, the shots are spliced up for actions
and reactions. And if one goes by the regular shot division
procedures, the focus shifts from one character to the other
as dictated by the dialogue. In a frame involving two characters,
character A talks, camera stays on A till his pause, cuts to
the reaction of B, cuts back to A continuing his dialogue. Pelli
Pustakam - baasu kuTTi comes into the office and starts
parading around in the same saree that KK (Rajendra Prasad)
has promised Ms. Bhama (Divya Vani) on her birthday. The dialogue
continues in the background and the focus shifts between the
reaction shots of KK and Bhama. He looks at her apologetically.
She looks at him hurt and hurtful. Bright flashes of light overwhelm
KK, indicating the flashes are real whip lashes (koraDaa debbalu)
for his misdemeanor. The (wonderful) dialogue is still relegated
to the background. This is one of many instances that the director
rises above the dialogue using his style to get across a plot
point.
The
shot division/framing comes naturally to Bapu, considering his
artistic background. If one observes his framing, it is but
a sequence of individual pictures that move. The camera isn't
moved too often, not even by the low budget telugu movie standards,
and the idea is conveyed by simple expression(s) that occupies
that particular frame. In that, Bapu style is more artistic
(read static) than it is dynamic. His characters do not occupy
a frenzied world, caught up in a flurry of activities, doing
things in a whirlwind fashion. Instead, they operate at less
than the normal pace, taking things as they come by in their
own languid mode, relying more on the reaction than on the action.
His characters are mature beyond their ages (thus explaining
their slow motor skills) without showing any signs of impulsiveness,
restlessness or unpredictability. The hero does not spring into
action bashing up goons, beyond his physical means, when he
faced with a confrontational situation. Instead he gulps the
indignation and walks away from the situation. His characters
rely more on the brains than on the brawns. His characters occupy
a real world than a surreal one. His characters are more human
than they are exaggerated.
Ramana's
exuberance is reigned by Bapu's sensibility. Bapu's vision is
enhanced by Ramana's brilliance. They remain the two sides of
the same coin. When one shines, the other remains in the background,
and when it is the turn of the second, the first gladly gives
way. Their association has broken many accepted truths - artists
good on paper can never be great on film; only opposites attract;
two swords cannot occupy the same sheath; nobody would watch
mythological characters in a social setting; telugu heroine
should never look like one from telugu land; heroism in a movie
is directly proportional to the body count in the fights; heroine
should always be dependent on the hero for her (cinematic) existence.
For all the myths that they have shattered, here is one that
they could NOT get their arms around - a great wine ripens with
age!
buDugu
walks in front a mirror, looks into it, folds his hand (in namaskaaram
fashion) and starts singing: okkaDae mahaanubhaavuDu, aa okkaDiki
vandanamulu...
C.
Gaana Pesoonamba rushes into the frame and starts yelling:
mashTaaru,
veeDu, paaTanu khooni caestunnaaDu
buDugu
looks at C. Gaana Pesoonamba obligingly and corrects his song,
this time turned toward her:
iddare mahaanubhalu,
aa iddarikee vandanamulu...
C.
Gaana Pesoonamba is pleased!
iddaroo
mahaanubhuvulae! aa iddaroo vandaneeyulae!!
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