Moulding a true 'Disciple'; A complex process of mixing servility, sycophancy and spirituality

 

Who is a real 'Disciple'?

Let us reframe the question to understand it better. What makes someone a good disciple? Blind faith in the teacher and his/her teachings? Loyalty to the philosophy preached? Strict adherence to the discipline of the school? Strong commitment to take it forward and strengthen the legacy? Or just excelling with strong reviews to be recognised around?

'The Disciple' (2020, India, Marathi), director Chaitanya Tamhane's second outing after 'Court' (2014) is a philosophical quest set in the backdrop of Hindustani classical music to find answers to these profound doubts. An international collaboration in which Mexican director Alfonso Cuaron worked as executive producer, the film was well received across festival circuits and won the FIPRESCI and Best Screenplay Awards of last year's Venice International Festival. And it is different from 'Court' with a more subjective standpoint on abstract muddles of life.

Set in the suburbs of the commercial hub of Indian Mumbai city, the film shows the struggles of a young aspiring musician to preserve the legacy of the 'Alwar' school of Hindustani classical music which is on the verge of going extinct with fewer practitioners and a shrinking audience. Sharad Nerulkar, the eponymous disciple, firmly believes in the intellectual and spiritual potentials of the philosophy of the 'Alwar' school and wants to take it forward. But he also feels guilty for not being as talented as his masters and for being fascinated with the material pleasures of life. Sharad's guruji (teacher), a man past his prime, regularly prods him not to get deflected on his aim. Guruji is one among many disciples of the famous incendiary of 'Alwar' school, Maai, who had insisted on staying away from public performances and glitters of fame. “A real musician should lead an ascetic life devoid of any material distractions and impure thoughts”, we hear from a recorded lecture of Maai, which Sharad listens to during his frequent bike rides. His guruji has rigidly followed this spiritual discipline to this day and lives in a poor, deprived state in suburban Mumbai without much-deserved fame in the field.

According to Maai, living for music is a spiritual journey to find inner truths, and it might take years of practice and lonesome life to attain them. But Sharad from his childhood has been fascinated by quotidian joys and is surrounded by the material challenges family life poses. And he, unlike many other disciples, understands his guruji’s destitute life and supports him in all possible ways. All these put Sharad in a precarious state with no certain philosophy to hold on to and he explodes at a moment of shocking revelation. Such moral dilemmas of the character are solemnly grabbed by Michal Sobocinski's camera which is almost static throughout the film. It attentively watches characters in very defined spaces of action. Tamhane and Sobocinski have worked out a visual pattern in which the camera is mostly placed in the exact physical levels of characters to invoke a sense of involvement and map their psychological state. At moments, this minimal, restrained visual language reminds me of Robert Bresson, Yasujiro Ozu, and Angela Schanelec. Colouring, lighting, and static shots in a wide 2.35: 1 aspect ratio also makes it a beautiful piece of cinema to ponder upon. Aditya Modak, a real-life musician, gives an incredible performance as Sharad. The quandaries of such a normal person are subtly rendered through restraint expressions and actions of Modak. Sharad’s doubts are never raised, addressed, or answered. But they are well conveyed to the viewers through mundane interactions. Wide static frames sometimes have so many people in and you might miss a story element somewhere there. And at times it is just Sharad with voids around going over his routines with thousand questions reeling inside, but never spilt out for easy grasp.

'The Disciple', as outlined above, talks about imposed discipline preached in the name of traditions, presumed spirituality of the practice, Hindu majoritarian undertones any practice could take, cult build-up of legends, blind reverence, and whatnot… It raises such deep philosophical questions and maps their reflections in everyday life instead of offering concrete answers. A sombre character study evolving at a placid pace, the film lives up to Chaitanya Tamhane’s reputation as a filmmaker with a very unique vision.