Message of Anwar: Men do Cry review

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I don’t remember having seen so many men cry on screen ever. And the reason of the “male tears” lies in women (sorry for oversimplifying). It’s not that women don’t cry in Anwar however they could be counted on fingers, while the men shed enough tears to flood the theatres.

I waited a good deal to watch Anwar. Its concept seemed nice and relevant. A young Muslim artist tries to escape his troubled life and takes refuse in a village temple, where he’s mistaken for a terrorist and gets killed.

There are a number of sub plots running through the movie. Master Pasha, a quirky character whom Anwar treats as Guru commits suicide after getting rejected from his muse. He sobs and cries frantically after being called a beggar before ending his life.

The politician who leads the fanatic crowd, thirsty of Anwar’s blood, breaks into tears as the words of rejection reverberate in the background.

The Journalist’s boyfriend (only heard over the phone) cries and begs while wishing her a happy valentine day.

And our very own Anwar tops the crying brigade. He cries for being caught amidst the rapidly growing communal intolerance. He cries for being ditched by his beloved and he cries some more out of guilt for getting her lover killed.

(I had almost decided on watching “the crying game” when a friend gifted me a copy of Anwar)

What I find interesting about Anwar is that none of the relationships materialize in the film. Either relationships fail to take off (Master Pasha) or it keeps going through a rough patch (the Journalist) . Either the husband is unfaithful (politician) or even if he seems loving he’s doomed to lose his wife to some mysterious disease ( Police officer’s wife seems ill, though no doctor is called and she’s left with a sulking daughter)

Manish has a unique style of storytelling. He introduces the characters in the end and expects us to sympathize with them from the movie's very beginning.We know very little about Anwar till almost two third of the film. In fact we dont know anything about hime except that he’s a Muslim and an artist. (honestly, I thought he was a sculptor that’s why he had come to the temple to study the idols!)

Similarly, the police officer despite having a dying wife at home looks funny and hardly evokes sympathy. His crying little daughter or the dead fish, all go down the drain and it leaves one wondering, why the hell he can’t even call a doctor. (I understand that the doc might not be available but do think that it should have been told to us. Hard to believe even a nurse can’t be called.)

Manish Jha also seems to be caught in a frenzy of exposing whoever comes his way. The politician in the film is so wretched a character that he turns out to be a cardboard cutout. He flares communal sentiments, has (or tries to establish) illicit affair with government officials wife, even his junior issues commands to the police superintendent. He acts weirdly once rejected in love. He fails to evoke either humor or sympathy.

Many situations and characters looks clichéd. I would say even director assumes that these situations and characters are clichéd, hence he refrains from explaining or justifying them. Master Pasha, a beggar artist, the corrupt politician or the police superintendent’s dying wife situation, all sound hollow.

For a good amount of time, some sort of drama keeps playing in the film. Only later we actually get a chance to understand the arbitrarily behaving characters’ motivations and find that its no theatre of absurd, but a plot replete with motivational framework.

I believe, Anwar suffers a great deal from experimentation with film craft. It would have been a great story to tell, if the filmmaker had waited for the story to acquire a form of its own. In its present form, it’s well-intended but tacky and good-meaning but incoherent.