Frozen: Panoramic Poetry review

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Shivajee Chandrabhushan's black-and-white cinematic canvas succeeds in revealing the myriad hues of film making. "Frozen" is a live, accessible and pronounced manifestation of the effect and importance of the camera as a story teller. Shanker Raman makes the audience enter into the cocoon of Karma (Danny Denzogpa), Lasya (Gauri) and Chomo (Sklzang Angchuk) through the silent and frozen shots of snow laden Ladakh. The atmosphere of self engulfing tranquility is effectively translated. However, this stillness is set into motion keeping pace with the progress of the plot and narration. The excessive wide shots capturing nature's bare naked beauty has a photographic feel to it, almost like travel postcards. Only the movement here makes it more delectable.

There are a few panoramic aerial shots of the deep valleys that are hauntingly beautiful and of the crowded bazaars that make the weather-beaten life come alive. Minutes into the movie, when the army encampment is established around Karma's house, the interweaving of light and shadow is marvelous, to say the least. For instance, the shot where Lasya is reading a story in the shifting light of the army's lighthouse. Also, the play of light and shadow on the wall of the kitchen army towards the end of the film is experimented well. However, the closing shot of the movie seems to be Raman's masterstroke. The frame being divided by the same wall mentioned above with a door towards the extreme left. The gas cylinders making a neat row against the black and white shadowy wall indicate Lasya's role in the army while she walks out of the door into the thicket of the trees, rained in bright orange bereft of leaves. Besides being a visual treat, the shot serves to be symbolic in communicating the transition of the character from a coulourless life of oppression into the landscape of freedom.

The second noteworthy aspect of "Frozen" is its narrative style. The film begins with the voiceover narration of Chomo, the young boy inviting the audience into his family where Karma, the father is struggling to make two ends meet by making apricot jam and Lasya, the sister who is the prankster at school and someone in whom the free will is let loose. Towards the end, the point of view shifts altogether, making the audience revisit the whole experience with a revealing perspective. The director is playing around with narration and declares it in as many words. He makes his character Lasya own up to the fact that the story was told from the point of view of Chomo and not necessarily the way it happened. She further refuses to start the story all over again but intends to lend it a new ending mere. And even then she beckons the audience to not forget the subjectivity of all story tellers. The dramatic event at the end of this tale is shrouded in mystery and no points for guessing that this is a deliberate attempt. However, the implication of Lasya's guilt is there for anyone who would care to look closely. The freedom within boundaries that she speaks of, then appears to make sense.

An interesting and philosophical theme that Chandrabhushan introduces into this narrative is the trajectory of good and evil, right and wrong. Karma spells this out for the first time in the movie- when he tells Commander Shyam that the real enemy lies within. And this rings true towards the end when it is the evil within the characters itself that proves destructive and fatal. The boundaries between right and wrong are blurred when the father makes ‘˜compromises' with life and seeks a ‘˜new house' for his daughter. Again, like the cinematic tone of the movie, the narration and the plot are extremely subtle and the audience has to be able to pick up the right clues and read between the lines. This balck and white rendition begins to assume shades of grey now. The script has been strategically crafted where the narrative completes a whole circle. In the beginning, there is a reference to every child being a messenger but not every child being capable of carrying that message. Also, the use of the line from Khalil Gibran's text that children are born out of life's longing for itself! When Lasya questions his father about her mother's worst fear; he replies "childbirth". These references to the ‘˜child' assume importance when the film reaches its climax.

The film is currently running in Mumbai Theatres.