It has been 18 years since Madhur Bhandarkar8s drama Traffic Signal was released. Subhash K Jha revisits the film and shares some very intriguing answers the director gave when the film hit the big screen.
Life for Madhur Bhandarkar’s characters sucks. They’re often a victim of sexual and political abuse. And you’re inclined to turn away from their anguish. What redeems the people in Traffic Signal are their frailties and their unquestionable humanism. The director captures them in on a cascading and mutating canvas. We see lives frozen in a state of emotional and economical imbroglio.
The characters are often seen doing the metaphysical equivalent of picking their nose in public. There’s no shame in letting it all hang out as long as the characters are prone to probe their wounds in bouts of agonized satire.
If Page 3 probed the beau-monde with incredible emotional sharpness, Traffic Signal doesn’t lag far behind. At first, you are flummoxed by the breathless pace. No shot in the first twenty minutes lasts more than some seconds. Bhandarkar wants us to know his multitude of street characters in a quick spasm of introduction. The actors are all so obtainable you can’t keep them from penetrating your hearts. The street-smart and yet emotional Silsila (Kunal Khemu), so named because he was born the day Yash Chopra’s film was released, helms the proceedings.
Bronzed in a remorseless sun, Silsila leads a bright pack of traffic-signal derelicts – the beggars (quirky, funny, sweet, bitter, and resilient), the eunuchs ( tall in their morality though characterized by a neutrality of gender), prostitutes (of the spitfire spit-paan masala variety), the children (abused yet amused by the vagaries of life)…Never before have Mumbai’s street people been so gloriously portrayed in postures of positivity since Mira Nair’s Salaam Mumbai.
Indeed, this is Bhandarkar’s own sly, sensitive, gritty, and powerful salaam to Mumbai done in shades that convey the granite willpower of people who are trained to survive on the harsh, bustling streets of Mumbai. The traffic signal becomes as emblematic of their lives as the invisible green and red lights that manoeuvre mankind from anguish to atonement in that cycle of life which we call existence. Bhandarkar’s microcosmic view of the street people is cluttered with characters who swish by creating their own little space in the bustle of the street hustle.
Moments remain with you…the orphaned little boy Tsunami’s determination to retrieve his lost parents from the rubble of destiny, the prostitute Noorie (Konkona Sen Sharma)’s growing relationship with the junkie street hustler (Ranveer Shorey), and the strangely ironical relationship that grows between passengers in posh cars and these fringe people at street signals who eke out a living by lying to their destiny.
Traffic Signal is a much bigger achievement than it outwardly appears. Bhandarkar controls the vast cast through some adroit editing. Apart from those repetitive shots of the mafia don(director Sudhir Mishra trying hard not to give a performance), the narrative moves forward with the unshakeable determination of a traffic snarl adamant on making its way ahead through the maze. As in the director’s earlier works, the performances, by known and unknown actors, carry the narrative to the pinnacle of credibility …only to bring the proceedings back to earth with a resounding thud. A special word for Ranvir Shorey who takes to his part with the bewildered expression of a man who’s lost something valuable on the streets of Mumbai.
To watch Shorey at work in Khosla Ka Ghosla and then Traffic Signal is to recognize the arrival of a significant naturalistic actor. Konkona Sen with her bright lipstick and crimson dialogues, Kunal Khemu as the spunky and spirited but sensitive Silsila, and Neetu Chandra as the tender-hearted traffic-stopper…each invests a feline fluency to their bravura performances.
Said Bhandarkar, “I’ve given my best to Traffic Signal. There are more characters in this film than in all my films put together. It comes in the gritty category of ‘Chandni Bar’ and Page 3. Unlike Corporate, which had an urban appeal, I think Traffic Signal appeals across the line. It was also my first release after the birth of my baby girl. Hence, the most special. Kunal Khremu’s role is as powerful as Tabu’s Chandni Bar. It has as many shades. He plays a hoodlum who collects money from beggars and eunuchs.”
Kunal Khemu was put through a workshop to prepare for the role. Bhandarkar had the entire schedule, including the running time of the film, which is two hours and 10 minutes, worked out from the outset. The entire film was shot in Karjat on a set representing a signal. The director and his writers observed any number of traffic signals in Mumbai before penning down the story.
“Just as we went to numerous beer bars for Chandni Bar. A good story always works. If Page 3 just spoofed the characters, it wouldn’t have worked. The emotional journey of the characters was what worked for Page 3. People laughed at me. They never believed I could pull it off. After Chandni Bar, I made Satta and Aan, which flopped. Though I’m proud of Satta, I was written off. I’ve made my trilogy…. the first about the cocktail circuit, the second about the business world, and the last about the signal culture in Mumbai. Page 3 was the underdog of 2005. It was the first hit of the year. I was anxious to prove myself. Would the page 3 circuits come to see Page 3 after attending all the New Year parties? They did! I made the film with my heart and soul. My Aan was as honest as Corporate. At least I’ve the honesty to make the films I want to.”
It’s amazing to see Bhandarkar create humane relationships within the traffic snarls, as it is to consider the possibility of street people bonding beyond the rituals of day-to-day existence. With an eye for detail that defines the cinema of neo-realism and a heart that bleeds without creating a tedious splash, Traffic Signal hits you in the solar plexus almost as forcefully as Bhandarkar’s Chandni Bar and Page 3, and far more so than his film Corporate which was too niche to be universal. Every one of the scores of characters in Traffic Signal connects with the audience. You can’t afford to look away. You may miss an invaluable rhythm of life and a lesson on How To Survive On The Streets Without Losing Your Dignity.
