After winning hearts on the big screen—admittedly not as many as it deserves—debutant director Varsha Vasudev’s Chinna Chinna Aasai in Malayalam and Tamil (also in Hindi in parts) is now streaming on Jio Hotstar.
You would be unintentionally creating an unpardonable blunder by not watching the film: once, to savour and absorb its dewy delicately drawn portrait of a brief bonding between two strangers in the life-changing bustle of Varanasi, and then once again to feel every nerve of the protagonist Leela’s luminous presence.
Leela, to her good fortune , is played by the magnificent Madhoo Shah. I’ve lately realized how precious she is to the projects she selects. Even in the dry and insipid Governor she brought in a semblance of moistness to the film’s parched texture.
As Leela in Chinna Chinna Aasai , the forlorn desolate lost woman from Thanjavur (what if Shabana Azmi in Mrinal Sen’s Khandhar travelled to a spiritual city?) who forms an unexpected bond with an aging schoolteacher Madhavan (Indrans, invisible as usual) , Madhoo is exceptional. Her face is the map of the human heart. With every elegant beat of the narrative , you will find yourself becoming attached to Leela’s pain and yearning. Craving for a rickshaw ride in the bylanes, or a lassi in Mohalla assi, Leela reminds you of why the smallest of pleasures define lives.
Why is Leela so happy for just that one day in her life with the kind compassionate stranger, sharing rickshaw rides and lassi with him, her eyes conveying centuries of repression? Why is she denied her share of happiness in her life? Madhoo has endowed Leela grace, tranquillity, and poignancy.
This is an extraordinary film about ordinary lives, and how the smallest of gestures of kindness could redefine your entire existence. As a writer Varsha Vasudev scores the highest marks possible. Almost every frame is imbued with an incandescent energy.
Visually and emotionally the texture and mood convey a fusion of empathy and dispassion: Vasudev is very close to her characters. And yet she gives them ample space to grow on their own, so that, by the time Leela and Madhavan , both beyond the age of romance, reach the last act of their 24-hour journey, you feel you know these two by heart.
They deserve happiness. This is a film of enormous empathy, beaded together with pearls of lighthearted wisdom. Although the location is a spiritual city (captured, I might add, with compelling non-touristic lucidity by cinematographer Faiz Siddik) the atmosphere never gets oppressive , or overladen with placard-waving homilies.
The two protagonists and their definition-free bonding are the at the centre of the narrative’s gaze; the few times when the attention strays (arresting but distracting cameos by Aparna Balamurali, Jaffer Siddiqui, and Vishnu Agasthya) you want Leela and Madhavan to be together in every heartbeat of this tender tale of temporal but timeless togetherness.
