Dr. Mala Chakravorty

Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s first film, Khamoshi The Musical (1996), a poignant depiction of what it is like to be normal and live with people with disabilities, flopped at the box-office despite the presence of stars like Salman Khan, Manisha Koirala and Nana Patekar. Perhaps Bhansali realized that to carve out a niche for himself in Bollywood he needed to play by Bollywood rules and went conventional with a vengeance for his next two films -- Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999) and Devdas (2002). 

I don’t have much to say about these overtly sentimental and lavishly opulent films that were phenomenally popular. Possibly success gave Bhansali the confidence to make another "different" film. Picking up the thread from Khamoshi, Black (2005), an unconventional song-less film, tells the story of a deaf, dumb and blind girl's yearning to lead a normal life. 

Obviously inspired by The Miracle Worker (1962), an unsentimental narration of the miraculous story of deaf-blind Helen Keller who bravely confronted life and made a name for herself with the help of her teacher Anne Sullivan, Bhansali presents to us the tale of Michelle McNelly (Rani Mukherjee) and her teacher Debraj Sahai (Amitabh Bachchan). Born in an affluent Anglo-Indian home, Michelle turns deaf-blind after an illness at the age of 18 months. Living in a world sans sound or light, she turns violent and wild. When she is eight, her parents seek the help of an aging, alcoholic teacher from the deaf-blind school as a last resort. Debraj manages to tame the uncontrollable child and teaches her to communicate. He turns a “wild animal” into “a fine young lady” bringing back light, joy and hope into her world. The rest of the film traces Michelle’s struggles to get a university degree, accompanied by Debraj as her interpreter. It takes her several years to overcome obstacles and achieve her dream. During this time Debraj is struck with Alzheimer's and Michelle has to refill his blank world with words and memories. The film ends with the successful completion of her degree at the age of 40, Debraj’s miraculous recognition of her achievement and finally his death. 

Going by the standing ovations, the tears, the stunned silence of viewers, this story of courage, struggle and triumph has created an emotional impact that is rare in the history of Indian cinema. People expecting a depressing movie are surprised to find humor and light in this celebration of life and human endeavor. Defying stereotypical representation, Bhansali’s vision of the physically challenged does not deify them or project them as victims, but gives them the whole gamut of human emotions, the urge to live life fully and the determination to succeed against all odds.

Bhansali’s entire team has made a major effort to bring to life the director’s vision. All the lead actors went through extensive training to learn sign language. Amitabh Bachchan’s interpretation of Debraj as an arrogant, eccentric and compassionate old man determined to help Michelle overcome obstacles and reach her goal, is one of the performances of his illustrious career. Rani Mukherjee, playing a young woman trapped in a world of darkness, moves away from her glamorous image and gets under the skin of Michelle with rare spontaneity. Several light years from her ‘Aati kya Khandala’ days, Rani becomes the stubborn and temperamental Michelle, using expressions and gestures to communicate her feelings of anger, frustration, delight, despair. The chemistry between them is incredible, evident in several wonderful moments when the two are totally in synch with each other’s actions or words. 

However, it is the child actor, ten-year old Ayesha Kapur, who steals the show. Ayesha plays Michelle with a frightening intensity and brings alive the void of her dark, silent, wild, animal-like existence. Kudos to Bhansali for drawing a mind-blowing performance from this talented child. The film also gets very good support from actors like Shernaz Patel as the mother demonstrating tremendous grace under pressure, Dhritiman Chatterjee as the frustrated father coerced into accepting this disrespectful teacher into his residence, and Nandana Dev Sen as the jealous sibling who lives her life under the shadow of her handicapped sister, craving for a glimmer of attention from her parents. 

Like the casting, the cinematography is flawless. From the garish mansions of Devdas, Bhansali shifts to the serene Anglo-Indian home of Colonial India, replete with ornate woodwork, statues, screens, waxed floors, butlers and housekeepers. Every minute detail whether it be the McNelly household or the Mall of Shimla is paid attention to. Michelle’s black world is juxtaposed against Debraj’s white one with clever use of monochromatic hues, shades of darkness and light, rain and snow, to create a dark world with glimmers of light.

Flaws: there are some. Was it necessary to make Michelle’s head fall to the side as if she’s mentally challenged or has a problem with her neck or spine rather than eyes? Why the exaggerated Chaplinesque walk for Rani? And just in case we miss the connection, there are posters of Chaplin films set up as reminders! Why the Gothic ambience of the sets and corresponding background scores, creating an eerily cold atmosphere? Was there any need for the melodramatic monologues by Amitabh? Rani’s voice-over when Michelle is trying to get through to an oblivious Debraj seems redundant. Was it necessary to include the long speech at the end summing up the entire narrative? When the narrative itself is compelling, why mar the flow with excessive explanations?

There was rich raw material that a bolder director could have drawn upon – the several nuances of a thirty-year student-teacher, male-female relationship. However, keeping the target audience in mind, Bhansali kept the relationship one-dimensional -- grateful student and dedicated teacher. The scene where Michelle demands a kiss from Debraj as her only channel to passion is as bold as he could get, and even that draws sniggers and expressions of disgust from the audience. Here, I would like to briefly compare the movie to the Oscar winning Million Dollar Baby, which I saw around the same time as Black. Though completely unrelated, I felt certain similarities. Both deal with a young woman-older man, student-teacher, mentor-mentee relationship. Both are intense, hard-hitting, thought-provoking films about overcoming obstacles to achieve one’s dreams. And even in the Hollywood film, the relationship is clearly defined as a surrogate father-daughter one. However, Million Dollar Baby ends in tragedy, while Black has a positive ending. But compared to the no-nonsense, uniformly measured tone of Million Dollar Baby, Black appears melodramatic and contrived. 

However, to be fair to Bhansali, his film targets a completely different audience, and has to tell the story in a different language altogether. As it is, even his audience is not always in tune with him. Although the film has received an overwhelming response from the Hindi film industry and critics, trade pundits are flailing it for being boring and not doing well in the overseas market where Karan Johar-Yash Chopra style films rule the roost. Black will definitely win awards from every forum in India, and perhaps get some international recognition as well, but it is definitely not a movie that will appeal to the masses who flocked to see Devdas.

To me personally, the film was an emotionally draining, intense experience that made me question our self-absorbed pursuit of material success. Do we ever think what it is to have a child with a physical or mental handicap? How do we deal with a parent who is afflicted with Alzheimer’s or any other debilitating illness? Do we have access to an infrastructure that can provide support for bringing up a disabled child? Do we have any way of dealing with geriatric issues? Can we understand the stark emptiness of an existence where there is no sound or light? Can we empathize with someone who has to go through life with a disability that makes it a struggle to simply exist on a day-to-day basis -- to eat, to change clothes, to identify one’s bed, to find one’s way out of a room? Can we even imagine what it feels like not to remember your own name, not to recognize loved ones? 

Black is a landmark in Indian cinema because it gives us all the shades of a black world that surrounds us, but remains invisible until it affects us personally. Bhansali’s greatest achievement in Black is the power to sensitize us to the fact that a different world exists for people with disabilities. It breaks stereotypical depictions of the disabled as objects of charity and brings alive their yearning to live life fully, their constant struggles, their angers and frustrations and their intense joy in being able to achieve something we take for granted. It teaches us to count our own blessings and extend a little more compassion to the less fortunate. It gives us hope that no matter how hard life is, if one is determined enough, one can fight every obstacle and survive with dignity and grace.