Film review

A different take on ‘Midnight’s Children’

Seneka Abeyratne

The epic two and a half-hour movie ‘Midnight’s Children’ (based on Salman Rushdie’s award-winning novel) has failed to impress western critics on the whole. This is somewhat puzzling as the film possesses all the ingredients of a captivating human and political drama.

A panoramic multi-layered film that is deeply rooted in Indian culture and makes a brave attempt at blending political allegory and magical realism is unlikely to appeal to those who relish the formula films dished out by Hollywood. ‘Midnight’s Children’ (directed by Deepa Mehta and produced by David Hamilton) is set in the subcontinent and covers sixty years of tumultuous colonial and post-colonial history.

Satya Bhabha and Shriya Saran in Midnight’s Children

Rushdie is not a conventional writer and his plots are never cut and dried. They are multi-layered and discursive. We may throw up our hands in exasperation and ask, “Where are the connecting threads?” But we know that if we look hard enough, we will find them. His novels tax the brain and tend to leave the reader mentally exhausted. If subtlety, linguistic dexterity and non-linearity are Rushdie’s trademarks, they are also Marquez’s and Kundera’s. To convert a labyrinthine novel by any of one of these authors into a screenplay is a daunting task. Any experienced screenwriter will tell you that it is difficult, if not impossible, to be faithful to the novel.

Unfair judgment

Whenever a film is based on a book, it is at an immediate disadvantage, for the critics will always compare it to the book and try to point out the shortcomings. Personally, I do not think it is fair to judge a film using the book from which it was adapted as the yardstick. A film adapted from a novel should be judged on its own merit. Deciding what to keep and what to discard is invariably a hair-pulling exercise for a screenwriter. Given the depth and complexity of ‘Midnight’s Children’ (the novel), it is not surprising that Deepa Mehta hired the author himself to write the screenplay.

Those who have given the film a low rating argue that the author of ‘Midnight’s Children’ should never have been asked to adapt it to the screen. They say the screenplay is self-indulgent as well as over-written and that the film is nothing more than “a series of pretty, disconnected scenes.” They also snub Rushdie for playing the role of off-camera narrator, the insinuation being that he created the role for himself. Off-camera narration is a device used by many movie directors. It is especially suited for epic movies. In the case of ‘Midnight’s Children’ it is the connecting thread that holds the film together.

Rushdie’s voice is gentle and well-modulated. It is neither obtrusive nor self-indulgent.

As for those haughty western critics who have panned the movie, one can detect a venomous undertone in their reviews. I suspect the reason why they don’t like the film is that they don’t like Rushdie. ‘Midnight’s Children’ consist of Saleem and Shiva, who were born on August 15, 1947 at the stroke of midnight, and several others (including Parvati) who were born in the first hour after midnight. They all possess magical powers. On this day British colonial rule in India ended and a new nation (namely Pakistan) came into being on Indian soil. Twenty four years later, a rebellion supported by India resulted in the creation of Bangladesh (formerly East Pakistan). Both partitions play a pivotal role in the film as they affect the lives of the two protagonists – Saleem and Shiva – in unexpected ways.

The other Midnight’s Children, scattered all over India, are linked magically to the fate of their homeland. The film begins with the period 1917-1942 (Kashmir and Agra) and ends with the period 1972-1977 (New Delhi). During this epic journey, we cross several borders and encounter several generations of people. From 1975 to 1977 India’s Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, imposed Emergency Rule so as to implement certain draconian measures. Civil liberties were suspended and mass arrests were carried out by her government.

The film portrays Indira Gandhi as a cold, ruthless and power-hungry leader. Saleem is one of the victims of her forced-sterilization program. Truth and fiction mesh in a way that one is indistinguishable from the other. This is an intriguing aspect of the film.

Wealthy family

The two protagonists (whose lives are inextricably connected) are not aware that a misguided nurse (Mary) switched them at birth and handed them over to the wrong parents. Thus, Saleem (born a Hindu) is brought up by a wealthy Muslim family living in a Victorian villa, while Shiva (born a Muslim) is brought up by a poor Hindu family living by its wits. The nurse joins the Muslim household as a nanny and becomes extremely attached to Saleem. This bond weaves an intricate pattern in the fabric of the film.

The two boys have frequent contact as they live in close proximity to one another.

Shiva is deeply envious of Saleem because of his privileged background. As Shiva grows older, his dislike for Saleem transmutes into an all-consuming hatred for the affluent class. Saleem is good and his nemesis, Shiva, is evil. Perhaps, if the nurse had not done the swap, it would have been the other way around. (The film tinkers mischievously with the nature versus nurture argument.) The clash between good and evil at the micro-level is mirrored by similar conflicts at the macro-level, in which the two protagonists unwittingly become embroiled. Their paths keep crossing at regular intervals.

Towards the end of the film, Saleem, who was once a rich kid is forced by circumstances into a life of abject poverty and ends up in a New Delhi slum with Parvati, the witch. The slum is inhabited by musicians, jugglers, circus performers, fire-eaters, cobras, and the snake-charmer, Picture Singh. The superb cameo performance by Kulbushan Kharbanda as Picture Singh is one of the highlights of the film.

Due to a peculiar anatomical defect in his nose, the young Saleem is able to communicate telepathically with the other Midnight’s Children, including the enchanting Parvati. He never imagines that one day he would meet her in the flesh.

This magical encounter occurs in Bangladesh while the people are celebrating the birth of a new nation. Parvati takes Saleem in a basket to the New Delhi slum, which is her home.

Disastrous love

Meanwhile, Shiva has become a powerful military figure in India. Saleem and Parvati live happily together for a while. Then, by a quirk of fate, Shiva displaces Saleem as Parvati’s lover with disastrous consequences for everyone. The film ends with the lines:

“A child and a country were born at midnight, once upon a time. Great things were expected of us both. The truth has been less glorious than the dream. But we have survived and made our way. And our lives have been, in spite of everything, acts of love.”

Though the film is absorbing, even gripping at times, it is a tad too long. One gets the feeling that Rushdie tries to cram too much into the film. This is not to say the screenplay is bad. It is warm, witty and imaginative and succeeds up to a point in blending political allegory and magical realism.

The film, shot in and around Colombo, is deeply satisfying although it does tend to sag a little at times. Kudos to the Film Team – the sets are magnificent. The beautiful costumes by Dolly Ahluwalia (capturing five distinct time periods) also play a role in enhancing the movie’s artistic impact.

This is Deepa Mehta’s most ambitious film to date and arguably her best. Her forte is simplicity and this is one of the most notable features of the film. (Something the western critics missed, perhaps.) In this regard, her collaboration with Rushdie pays off.

The dialogue is evocative and so is the off-camera narration. I strongly disagree with the claim by certain western critics that the film is nothing more than a disjointed and incoherent soap opera. The film moves from one episode to another with gentle irony and quiet dignity. The cinematography (by Giles Nuttgens) is outstanding and the music (by Nitin Sawhney) has a haunting quality which endears one to the movie.

The cast on the whole is impressive, with Satya Bhabha (as Saleem) and Siddharth (as Shiva) living up to expectations. Seema Biswas (as Mary) is brilliant and Shriya Saran (as Parvati) is utterly charming. One wishes the latter had a bigger part in the movie. Rahul Bose delivers a compelling performance as General Zulfikar. The other key members of the huge cast also perform with aplomb.

Hats off to Deepa Mehta for daring to turn Rushdie’s epic novel into a mega movie. What one cannot fail to observe in this enthralling film is her lyrical style, her poetic imagination, and her keen eye for visual imagery. The delicate texture and rich emotional landscape are the hallmarks of the film.