When she desperately tells him that she craves for his
love he quotes Yajnavalkya from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad,
"A woman loves her husband just to release her own
needs"
("Sahovacha nava are patyukamaya patipriyo bhavathi
atmanastu kamaya pathi priyo bhavathi"). While Unni
Namboodiri's concept of love is austerely metaphysical,
Thethikutty suffers the pinpricks of earthly love. The
crux of the film is the intrinsic discord between these
two philosophies of life.
The progressive campaign in the community is reflected
through the letters Thethikutty gets from her brother
(Srinath), copies of such journals as Unni Namboodiri
found in a chamber, Thangam's reference to Muthiringottu
Bhavathrathan Namboodiri's "Aphante makal",
and the contemptuous reference to the movement by the
"Athemmas" (women) and the Namboodiri elders.
Thethikutty pays a heavy price for her liberal and independent
views. She is ostracized for defying the head of her husband's
family (Maadambu Kunjukuttan), and, thus, husband and
wife are separated.
Unni Namboodiri is receptive to the new social changes.
This is obvious in the way he argues to educate Thankam
but, in regard to grave domestic issues, he is unable
to break free from the fetters of orthodoxy.
"A brahmin is committed to a life of tyaga (sacrifice).
The reward for Dharma is Dharma itself," he notes.
The old order changeth. Unni Maboodiri is now like a leaf
caught in the wind. Among his worldly-wise relatives,
he is an odd man out. Donating his property to the local
temple, he chooses the life of a pauper.
Thankam, now the wife of a senior bureaucrat in New Delhi,
visits him once at the village temple. "I've only
one thing for you," he tells her, pulling out his
nuptial chain. If you find her (Thethikutty), give it
to her. Tell her I've always been one with her.
Thankam tracks Sumitrananda down at a Haridwar ashram
and hands the chain over to her. The ascetic drops it
into a firepot, uttering, "Idam na mama" (This
is not mine). She then sanctifies it with holy water and
gives it to Thankam's grand daughter. Quiet flows the
Ganges in the background.
Agnisakshi, on the whole, is about the poignant between
Unni Namboodiri and Thethikutty, and their love that transcends
the vicissitudes of life.
Holding the nuptial chain, Sumitrananda says, "Ithu
thani thankamaanu, kalarpu varutharuthu" (This is
as pure as pure can be, do not taint it). Obviously she
is alluding to her love for the man.
Had he kept his hands off commercial elements, Shyamaprasad
could have been proud about his work. Instead of expressing
the tale in chaste visual language, the director appears
keen on filming drama. Songs are a continual irritant,
and they shatter the solemnity of narration and the build-up
of the theme.
The incidental score is loud and intrusive. Even the sopana
music in one scene has been tastelessly orchestrated.
Could not the sopana vocals go with the sole accompaniment
of the Edakka? Silence has hardly been exploited. At times,
one longed for a respite from the "onslaught"
of the violins and the double bass.
The performances are uniformly good. Pat Rajat kapoor,
Praveena, and Maadambu Kunjukuttan on the back. Sreevidya
looks hardly convincing as grown up "Praveena".
One Haridwar scene, shown prior to that of Thankam's visit
to the illom to meet an aged Unni Namboodiri, could have
gone later. The introduction of the illom sequence with
a title, "A few months earlier", could thus
have been avoided.
The Himalayan sequences as a whole lack lustre. Missing
in the film are the grandeur of the gateway to the mountains,
the uncanny charm of the swift flowing Ganges, and the
feel of the ultimate in the Himalayan air.
Cinematographer Azhagappan could take a cue from an Adoor
Gopalakrishnan who deftly photographed a documentary in
the same terrain or from a Piyush Shah who ably captured
the splendor of Benares in the feature film, "Jaya
Ganga". Despite all its shortcomings, Agnisakshi
is a bold attempt to adapt Antharjanam's masterpiece and
one of the praiseworthy Malayalam films made in recent
times. |
