Most intelligent people I know agree that high-quality criticism — whether it’s positive or negative — involves a considered perspective, backed with knowledge and expressed with clarity (and perhaps some flair too). The reviewer should be honest about his own responses to the work in question and not become unduly influenced by the stated intentions of its creator; D H Lawrence’s dictum “trust the tale” is still as useful as it ever was.
But a difficulty arises: in a time of unending media coverage and interconnectedness, how is it possible to be a critic working in a bubble, sealed off from all external noise, unaffected by the counter-feedback and clarifications issuing from the social-media-savvy director of the film (or author of the book) you have written about? Besides, don’t forget that even “serious” critics (the ones who specialise in analytical long-form essays) may spend part of their time doing straightforward reportage — such as interviews, where the idea is to be a medium for someone else’s views — and the two disciplines might clash. Researching for a book about the film Jaane bhi do Yaaro, I often found myself on a tightrope: expressing my own views at inordinate length, while also greedily picking at the brains of the cast and crew (and occasionally throwing the Lawrence line at them, just to let them know that I was free to engage in my own interpretations regardless of what they said!).
Recently I moderated a discussion about Imtiaz Ali’s film Rockstar at the Cinefan festival. This was a film I had very mixed feelings about, to put it politely. I loved the music, I appreciated Ranbir Kapoor’s performance in the lead and a couple of sequences had a whimsical, intuitive quality that seemed apt for a narrative about a young man straining to become an artist. In telling the story of Janardhan, a callow college kid who finds unexpected depths of emotion as his romantic life becomes increasingly complicated, the film showed an ambition one usually doesn’t associate with our commercial cinema. Yet I felt that the narrative was uneven, with gaps in character development, and that it was a little too driven by an idealised, adolescent view of tragic love and its effects. The second half in particular was too disjointed and abstract for my liking, given what had gone before it.
However, as I prepared for the Cinefan session — by watching “making of” videos and interviews — I came to appreciate the effort that had gone into the film, and to acknowledge that even if specific scenes didn’t work for me, they were products of a thought-out process. Later, during the discussion itself, the director, the lyricist Irshad Kamil and the cinematographer Anil Mehta spoke eloquently about their areas of expertise as well as the overriding vision for the film. Kamil discussed how he worked on each song keeping in mind the role it would play in the central character’s personal development; Mehta recalled using different lenses to capture specific moods, as well as the practical challenges of shooting in some locations — in the Nizamuddin dargah, for instance, where dollies could not be used and bulky camera equipment had to be carried manually. Replying to audience questions (some of which were strongly critical), Imtiaz Ali was gracious, carefully explaining his choices but also conceding that in some cases execution might have fallen short of intent.
Of course, any critic worth his salt knows that heaps of hard work and serious intent often goes into the making of even an ultimately mediocre book or film. And of course, this knowledge should not make an iota of difference when it comes to forming one’s assessment. But it can be a tricky line to walk. If I see Rockstar again (which I won’t do anytime soon), it will be under the shadow of fresh-won insight, and I wonder if that will — perhaps at a subconscious level — influence my feelings about it. And when I see Gangs of Wasseypur again (as I certainly will do), I’m going to be trying hard to forget about all the commentary on Anurag Kashyap’s Twitter account!
Jai Arjun Singh is a Delhi-based writer
