Beyond the Clouds: Majid Majidi's film remains trapped in woolly-headedness

Majidi falls into the trap of overplaying the cliches, which is perhaps most evident in his portrayal of Mumbai's prostitution business and the treacherous bosses who helm it

In the run-up to the release of Beyond the Clouds, director Majid Majidi (Children of Heaven, Baran and The Willow Tree), when quizzed about his film’s similarities with Slumdog Millionaire, confessed that he had found the Danny Boyle venture “too touristy”. Yet, he himself takes off on a similar note. You are introduced to all the major landmarks of Mumbai — Marine Drive, Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, the Gateway of India — within a few minutes of taking your seat in the theatre. The motifs remain unaltered, too: poverty and slum life, and the despair and helplessness that inevitably accompany them.

That is where the similarities end, though. Unlike Boyle, Majidi offers the same high sentimentalism that he often brings to his works. Amir (Ishaan Khatter) is a small-time drug peddler raised by his now-estranged sister, Tara (Malavika Mohanan). But when the police raid his gang’s hideout — in all too familiar fashion — and Amir finds himself on the run, it is Tara who provides him the shelter of her home. In fact, the frenzied police chase, which sees Majidi taking us through Mumbai’s congested bylanes and dhobi ghats, superbly complemented by a soft tabla-sitar fusion in the background, is one of the initial standouts of the film.

It is the raw, conflicting emotions of Majidi’s very human characters that help the film elevate itself

Amid all this mayhem, Tara, in an act of self-defence, ends up bludgeoning Akshi (Goutam Ghose), a co-worker who is infatuated with her. She is packed off to jail and Amir must save her. But Amir’s real troubles start when he finds himself torn between seeking revenge for his sister and shielding Akshi’s wife and two daughters, who are clueless and penniless in an alien city. This emotional quandary compels Amir to feed them and buy them new clothes, all the while contemplating selling off the elder daughter to a dangerous brothel owner in order to arrange money for Tara’s bail. Tara, meanwhile, forges a bond of her own, with the young son of a frail and sickly cellmate, played by Tannishtha Chatterjee.

Some of Majidi’s quintessential traits are at work in Beyond the Clouds, too. His use of shadow-play is dazzling and effective, but used too leniently in the end. Another familiar trope that runs through the film is children and their innocence. The cinematography (Anil Mehta) is breathtaking in parts — there are close-ups of Akshi’s family, for instance, and aerial shots of Mumbai that intermittently lift the film into a rousing spectacle. It is, however, the raw, conflicting emotions of Majidi’s very human characters that help the film elevate itself.

Khatter shines as the part puerile, part vengeful Amir. It is a striking performance from a young actor making his debut. A sequence that sees him locking himself up and wailing after meeting Tara in prison supplies proof of the maturity he showcases. G V Sharada, who plays Akshi’s wife, is another surprise — she puts in a poignant performance that is almost as splendid as Khatter’s.

These stirring showings, however, fail to carry the film to the end. Majidi falls into the trap of overplaying the clichés, which is perhaps most evident in his portrayal of the city’s prostitution business and the treacherous bosses who helm it. The second half of the film is tardy, hampered by unimaginative dialogue that cries out for some local earthiness. The film’s simplistic take is also disappointing — barring Amir, all other characters are devoid of any complexity.

There are moments in Beyond the Clouds that will make you want to stand up and applaud. It is when you start stitching it together, though, that you realise you’ve been here before.