For a film with a heavy-handed focus on mundane trivialities, director Shoojit Sircar doesn’t waste frames getting to the point. As soon as we meet Dan (Varun Dhawan), which is barely a minute into the film, we know that he hates his job. A trainee at a five-star hotel, Dan sulks and grunts through his shifts like a teenager forced to do chores by his parents.
At one point, Dan has to fetch an annoying couple’s toddler from their room (this flashily-attired family had forgotten the child in their bathroom). Holding the baby on his way out, he catches a glimpse of his reflection. Thunderstruck by what he sees — and what we don’t see (the shot is framed as a long-shot) — he puts the child on top of a nearby cart and runs away.
Although it may not be immediately apparent, this brief shot — which is never again referenced in the film — tells us that Dan is petrified of responsibility.
Director Shoojit Sircar’s October is a minor classic, teeming with details. And there is art in it
Soon, at a small New Year staff party he didn’t attend, Shiuli Iyear (Banita Sandhu), a co-worker Dan barely talks to, falls from the third-floor terrace. Her last words were: “Where is Dan?” That one question unsettles Dan’s world.
No, Sircar’s October isn’t a thriller. Sircar (Madras Café) and screenwriter Juhi Chaturvedi (Piku) prudently call the film “a story about love” and not a love story.
Dan and Shiuli’s relationship is unconventional and misleadingly revealed in the trailer. However, despite the fact that most of the film is set up in a specific location or that the internet and reviews have already given away the nitty-gritties of the plot, I will withhold that small crucial bit of information. (Those waiting to see October should refrain from Google-ing the film at this point; you owe it to yourselves).
We can, however, talk about characters. Dan’s personal journey from an immature young adult to a slightly mature, caring man is a decelerated process — one that Dhawan, who has yet-to-mature as an actor, capably plays out. Shiuli is a far arduous undertaking as a character, who irrespective of Sandhu’s harrowingly realistic portrayal, is specifically directed by Sircar.
While some may argue about the limits of a director’s specifics and absoluteness in films, in October every fleeting moment is marked by Sircar’s idiosyncrasy. From the low-key lighting (the cinematography is by Avik Mukhopadhyay of Pink, Bunty aur Babli and Raincoat) to the implicit production design (Mansi Dhruv Mehta), every pint-sized, insignificant component of production and story bears a familiar, real-world touch.
Shrugging away the last five minutes of the film, Sircar has made a minor classic, teeming with details. If ever there was art in a film (a word I am averse to because of the immediate mental image it stamps on the reader) then October is it.
Published in Dawn, ICON, April 22nd, 2018