Much like people, how a film makes you feel, can often be a good index of judgement. Does it disturb you? Good. Does it trigger a spell of melancholia? Better. Throw in a little pathos and poignance and voila! The film has managed to become a successful work of art. If the purpose of art is to reform society, what better way to invoke deep sentiment in its audience that leads to corrective measures and actions?

<h2>'The Illegal' achieves a similar space, even if not going all the way. It tells a story which is sure to stay with you, in a deep recess of the self, long after you're done watching it. What starts as an exciting story of hope and possibilities concludes with a heavy residue of human emotion that absolutely refuses to leave. </h2>

The narrative offers a critique of the American dream, an idea pervasive enough to have spread its roots all over the globe, securing itself a deeply entrenched space in India as well. A young boy from Delhi has landed himself a place in his dream course at an unnamed, but established to be an immensely reputed film school in the US. <br><br>

However, before you get too comfortable with the idea, our protagonist Hassan has his first encounter with hostility at the airport itself, an omen of what is to come. The narrative brings in a suggestion of using light and colours, primarily red, to invoke those forces, both within (Hassan himself) and without (other characters), which will obstruct Hassan’s way to achieving his dream of becoming a filmmaker. Interestingly, it would mostly be his fellow-immigrants who become the biggest challenges to be tackled with. <br><br>

This is perhaps also the first time when there is a direct echo of imminent events and the direction the narrative is headed in a film titled 'The Illegal'. The blurry lens gains some clarity on the horizon of expectation which has already been put in place for the viewer. From then on, it is only a matter of time until the inexorable movement of the narrative, as well as the viewer, find themselves at a point of no return.
On the first night of his arrival in Los Angeles, Hassan finds himself without a home, and thus begins the spiralling down of his plans and hopes. 

<h2>The film does a wonderful job of capturing and translating to screen the turmoil, apprehensions, fear and the absolute, invincible need of a twenty-something-boy to make things work. </h2>

Despite the heady cocktail of everything that Hassan undergoes, there is never a sense of heaviness or disorientation. The story keeps the viewer deeply involved throughout.

<h2>Another strong aspect of the script lies in its exploration of the contrast in Eastern and Western values, and how the two attempt to conflate (in a doe-eyed, inexperienced protagonist), yet prove to be too starkly different to be even remotely similar (in Hassan’s realisation of how far his lived reality in the US is from what he had expected). </h2>

'The Illegal' does a beautiful job of tapping into several emotions in the right measure, and seamlessly weaves together wonderful performances by Shweta Tripathi, Adil Hussain, Iqbal Theba and the effortless Suraj Sharma. Sharma brings to the screen wide-eyed wonder and innocence which makes the story more heartbreaking. Irrespective of his naïveté and mistakes, you still find yourself rooting for him till the very end because dreams may come true at any point, but will they for our protagonist?


<br/><br/>
<b><i>Written by <span class="text-gradient">Rosheena Zehra</span></i></b>


The Illegal | Review | Suraj Sharma, Shweta Tripathi, Adil Hussain

The term “half-widow” is defined on Wikipedia as being a namesake for “Kashmiri women
whose husbands have disappeared and were still missing during the on-going conflict in
Kashmir” – a definition that barely conveys the injustice, violence and misery that accompanies it into the life of Kashmiri women.

<h2>The film depicts the plight of one such woman,
Neela (Neelofar Hamid), whose husband, Khalid (Mir Sarwar), is unexpectedly and
unreasonably abducted by Indian armed officials, thrusting her into the endless gloom of a
woman who is neither married nor a widow. She is ripped apart from her husband with no
knowledge of whether he is dead or alive – she is a half-widow.</h2>

Neela is devastated, but it’s clear that the abduction is not an uncommon phenomenon. On the contrary,
it is common enough for the existence of a ‘Half Widows Club’ - a group of women who gather to
protest against the injustice on a regular basis. A woman shrieking on the streets after her
husband has been taken away is a sad, but common occurrence – onlookers shake their head
with pity and then go about their day.

<br><br>

Neela’s only respite is her brother Zakir (Shahnawaz Bhat), who stands by her resolutely  and
refuses to leave her side. The wide angle shots depict her desolation and isolation after Khalid
is taken away, but she is never truly alone – Zakir is always there in the frame with his
watchful gaze, trailing quietly behind her. This is especially apparent at her lowest point
when she is separated from Zakir. She staggers on and as the camera pans out, there is no one
walking behind her – a realisation that is almost as unusual to the viewer as it must be for
the protagonist herself.

<br><br>

Music plays a vital role in the film as well as in Neela’s life. Be it Khalid’s cassette tapes, a
nomadic folk singer, or a children’s choir – music seems to be a ray of light that provides her a temporary escape from the dark reality of her world.

<h2>Familiar songs like ‘Dilbaro’ and ‘Ae Watan’ sound starkly different without the sheen of
being in a Bollywood film; they can be heard in Half Widow through the static of

radios or the off-key, asynchronous hum of a children’s choir. </h2>

This is just what the film is –
grounded, honest and real, without any glossiness of romanticism or manipulation.

<br><br>

Half Widow was made in 2017, when the current escalation of Kashmir’s plight could not have
been predicted. It is impossible to watch the film in a vacuum of merely being art and
entertainment without considering the social and political realities it depicts. Neela
complains to a group of reporters, saying that for them <i>“Kashmir sirf news hai”</I>. However, for people like her, Kashmir is more than just that, it's indeed a very harsh reality. There’s a difference between finding a story in
Kashmir and Kashmir itself becoming a story.

<br><br>

As Neela’s devastation transforms to anger,
and her anger transforms to acceptance and purpose, it is necessary to look beyond the film as
merely being the story of a woman finding herself after trauma. Not all half widows and
others who have suffered in the conflict have loved ones who take care of them, or victories to be won against the self. Neela is a mere insight into the wreckage of
Kashmir; her loss thus is a larger loss of Kashmir itself.

<br/><br/>
<b><i>Written by <span class="text-gradient">
Sanjana Bhagwat</span></i></b>

Half Widow | Review

It’s a lovely winter morning in Kashmir when Haleema meets her close friend Tara. As the two women sit down to chat, share a moment and eventually go about the town, arm in arm with each other, a bond marked by intimacy and deep affection is conjured for the viewer. <br><br>
The tonality and writing is deliberately suffused with warmth and an uplifting delineation of a friendship. However, tragedy is swift to strike, and in this sudden reversal of fortune, the narrative offers its core message to the viewer.  <br><br>
Without meandering into overt sentimentalism, the film presents its comment on the mindlessness of a form of violence that is executed in the name of imagined boundaries of religion and communal differences. The vagaries of life are put under question, as the hope, and the voice which stood for it, is silenced with a brutal act of cruelty. The storytelling, and performance both show earnestness, thereby, allowing the film lucidity in communicating its message to you.


The Good News | Short Film Nominee

An idyllic space marked by <i>shikaras</i>, roses, adornment and smiles constitute the world of the film at first glance. At the heart of this narrative is a loving father-daughter equation, and a kind doctor who visits them regularly for follow-ups. However, this realm of love and longing is soon disrupted as tragedy strikes, following a shooting in a marketplace. <br><br>

By tying matters of the heart, and the ensuing complications, with the terrible reality of Kashmir that gets embroiled in the turbulent political terrain of the region, the film also presents the darkness of what lies beneath the surface of the Valley’s spectacular beauty. <br><br>As foiled expectations, the motif of a red flower, tenderness of a hurt heart all make their presence felt, the film comes into its own. Though the narrative sometimes runs the danger of a little laxity, the end result remains especially notable in its visual progression and the performances it brings to life. 



My Father's Doctor | Short Film Nominee

Set against the hinterland of a Kashmir divided on religious lines, the film tells the story of inter-faith lovers. Attempting to invoke a poetic approach in the narrative, supplemented by a strong performance by Neelofar Hamid, Gaash is about Fatima, a Kashmiri Muslim, falling in love with a Hindu man. <br><br> The film opens with the sight of a group of men carrying a coffin in the snow. A parallel story is unfolding inside the coffin as a woman metaphorically awaits her life after death and the subsequent liberation from all man-made restrictions and inhibitions that kept her from her one true love. The plot attempts a comment on a society that is fraught by religious differences, misogyny, patriarchy and the complete obliteration of a woman's voice, along with the idea of love eventually surmounting all of these odds.

Most Viewed

Genres

Awards

Follow Us

Quick Links