The Mark of Cain

"No story has power, nor will it last, unless we feel in ourselves that it is true and true of us." - John Steinbeck - East of Eden (Chapter 22)

What can I say, when I get obsessed with something, I get really obsessed. And one of my oldest obsessions has been the story of Cain and Abel. I followed it through various forms of art (painting, sculpture, novels, poems, plays, films), and in university my friends used to even make fun of my ability to sneak in a reference to it even in the most unrelated essays.

I had been thinking for a while that I will never find this theme in an Indian movie because the Indian culture is so attached to its family values that they would simply not build an unapologetic plot on the topic of brotherly jealousy or hate. Some films touch upon it, but most of the time it's only a tangent, and when it's not, a happy reunion at the end will make sure the family values remain intact.

And then I saw Prasthanam (hey, I already admitted my obsessive tendencies, I know I just blogged about the film, but this seemed to deserve its own post). Finally a film bold enough to deal with this theme maturely, without making any excuses, even if this is not the only focus of the story. I've been sort of obsessing over this for the past couple of days, and in this context, I went back to my favourite book, John Steinbeck's East of Eden. I must have read this book a good 20 times and it never fails to teach me something new. But before I start reading it again, I want to talk about something old that it taught me and that is connected to Prasthanam.

Brotherly love is as strong and present an emotion as brotherly jealousy, Steinbeck tells us, and it has been so since the beginning of time. And just like in the Bible this jealousy is caused by God preferring one offering over the other, so in East of Eden it is caused by Adam loving one son more than the other, and in Prasthanam by the parents transferring their own guilt onto the children (Mitra, the adopted one, and Chinna, the youngest one). Chinna is conditioned to hate Mitra not because he's the better brother, but because he appears to be the better loved one. Any child that grows up with the burden of not being wanted, of being a product of his mother's sense of duty and guilt, is likely to flirt with self-destruction. At the same time, Chinna's resentment of his half brother is not only rooted in a false sense of injustice over Mitra being adopted into the family despite not being Loki's son, it is also rooted in Chinna's own sense of not belonging. Chinna's hatred is as much about his father as it is about his brother, and that's what makes his character so interesting.

Similarly in East of Eden, it is Adam's behaviour towards both his sons that motivates Cal's actions. Cal is not a bad person at the core, it is his father's reactions that turn him. Just like according to Steinbeck's interpretation, God's rejection is really what drives Cain to murder. I appreciate both "East of Eden" and "Prasthanam" for making this distinction in the father's character, for not trying to take the easy way out in analysing a situation as complex as this one. And all the more interesting to find these nuances in an Indian film where there is a certain amount of sanctity attached to the fatherly figure, coupled with a tendency to brush off rash behaviour on the part of the young ones, blaming it on drugs and alcohol, or at best on their young rebelious age, assuming that the audiences will relate to that.

Which brings me to my second point.

"You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself" (East of Eden - Chapter 38).

I am particularly interested in how this theme has reached us, the audiences, across the generations. In the second half of the book, Cal and Aron are the Cain and Abel of the story, with Aron appearing to be the good son, and Cal the bad one. But as the story goes on, I always find myself investing all my emotions in Cal, and being a little resentful of Aron's perfection. In fact, Steinbeck has built these characters so skilfully, that under the pretext of praising the righteousness of the "good" brother, we are given the very reasons for loving the "bad" one.

What is fascinating to note when looking at the film and the book is the shift in the way black and white are mixed in the brothers. In East of Eden, Aron (Abel) is an almost immaculate white, while Cal (Cain) is made up of various combinations of greys.

The film however, does the exact opposite: Chinna (Cain) is painted all black, while Mitra (Abel), far from being flawless, is the one depicted in shades of grey.

Mitra - A chain smoker and a cold blooded killer, this Abel sure has grown up...

When Steinbeck created the character of Cathy (Cal and Aron's mother) he was afraid that people would not get her, because she is a demon, so foreign in her wickedness that the reader may not be able to understand her existence at all. The reader of the 50's that is.
With that in mind, isn't it interesting that Chinna can be a demon in a movie for the audiences of the 21st century without anyone worrying about his credibility as a character? Meanwhile, an Abel-like figure can't possibly be flawless anymore in order to appear real. Moreover, in the 21st century, any Abel must fight back because could we even conceive an Abel that doesn't?... I for one, couldn't.

Tangentially two other questions come to mind: have we, humanity and audiences, accumulated so much darkness in us that monsters do not seem foreign to us anymore? And in 60 years, how has the balance shifted so completely that if a character is flawless, we may reject it, but we have no problems believing one that is defined by hate and jealousy?

Surely that would make for another interesting discussion... For now I am more than happy with my discovery of the first film that does one of my favourite topics justice, so I end with a big thank you to Deva Katta.

Prasthanam Review

Politics, family feuds, goondas, drugs, love, fights, Prasthanam's got it all! But, let's face it, mostly politics. And broken families.

You get sucked into the imagery of this Telugu movie right from the opening shots: an old orange-hued house that breathes heavily with memories and a man walking around it. What happened to this house and the people in it is then shown in a black and white sequence. I appreciated the symbolism of the truck burning with orange flames over the black and white background, making the connection between the past and the present, a connection sewn with hate and revenge that seem to keep feeding the fire to this day.

The movie gets very confusing when it moves to the present time though. Forget figuring out who was campaigning against whom, I couldn't even figure out who was whose brother!! Sheesh! And let's not even go to the sisters, sister-in-laws and future wives, or any combination of the above.

Even so, some of the dialogues are so hysterical that they make you forget all about who was whose brother and sister. Like this one:
Hero: "These are your friends? They look more like belly dancers."
Heroine slaps hero's friend: "If you have no fashion sense, keep your mouth shut!"
Hero's friend: "Bin Laden attacked and Saddam got bombed! He made a comment and you thrashed me??"

I have to remember this one! I like it! As I liked pretty much all the banter between the hero and the heroine, some damn good chemistry there. Too little of it unfortunately...

Another random thing I really liked was that there was a Salvador Dali painting in almost every room of their house. Interesting choice of decor, I approve. I wonder if the Metamorphosis of Narcissus has any symbolic meaning in this particular room... Hm...

Namak: Hey, speaking of random thoughts, notice that on top of the "smoking is injurious to your health" warning at the beginning, they also put in a dialogue about how the son has taken up the bad habit from his father, on account of heroism? I like that, creative and subtle, it talks to the parents as much as it talks to the kids.

Dolce: Yeah, but it hardly gets the point across. This Sharvanand is second only to Mahesh Babu in terms of looking extra cool with a smoking tube in his mouth, so I don't know about other kids, but that dialogue would never work to prevent me from picking up the habit... Now excuse me, I need to focus on the hotness of that bearded look on Sharvanand.

Namak: Right, of course you do. Well, to be fair, he seems to have grown some acting skills too, along with that beard, so I won't complain too much about this new crush. (Though I would much prefer him silent, if I may be honest, he takes it away for one of the most annoying voices after Tabu.)

It's not just Sharvanand that does justice to his role, the rest of the cast is quite capable as well. And with well etched characters like these, you know you have a good movie in your hands.

The relationship between the two brothers in particular is worth a mention. Maybe it's because I am always interested in a good Cain and Abel type of setting, but I found their motivations and reactions to be the most fascinating: jealousy, love, indulgence, entitlement, respect, envy, guilt, each emotion comes into play at the right time and both actors showcase them efficiently. And they are all fueled by the parents' behaviour, almost as if the brothers had no choice but to grow up feeling the way they do. As their final confrontation approaches, you forget about breathing and sipping on your drink, and your muscles tense up because Abel has grown so much on you that you want no blood on his hands. And yet your sense of justice tells you... there should be no safeguarding Mark for this Cain.

Titian - Cain and Abel - one of my favorite illustrations of this scene

Then of course, for good measure, and to make sure the movie doesn't walk away with a perfect 10 for script and execution, there are also moments like this...

Namak: Did he... wait... did he just slap the bad guy with his sandal while screaming: "You're going to get cancer! Get cancer! Get cancer!"? That's just... hilarious!

Dolce: Um... I'm trying to find some justification for that one, but sorry, I got nothing.

Whaaaat???

[ETA: Bharath, a Telugu speaker, informs me (thankfully!) that the  English subtitles don't really do justice to this dialogue, so take it with a grain of salt.]


And while on the topic of wtf moments, for anyone who has yet to watch the film, I would strongly suggest watching this song first, and skipping it when it comes up in the second half of the movie. It's a cool song that suffers from the worst placement in recent history. Better watched separately, in my humble opinion.



Comic relief aside, parts of the film reminded me a lot of Raajneeti, to the point where I kept expecting Nana Patekar's sly smile to appear out of nowhere, but that could be because I just saw him in another movie and remembered how much I love that man. Speaking of Raajneeti, Prasthanam somehow manages to appear more realistic, and it's not because there are less people murdered with no consequences for the butchers (if anything, there are more killings, just better spaced out), but because the film is set up in such a way as to make that seem integrated in the characters' lifestyle. Had Raajneeti built on a similar set-up from the beginning instead of doing that 180 turn in the middle of the movie, I bet no one would have had any problems with the bloodbath in the second half of the film. Of course, I mean that cinematically speaking, not ideologically. I found myself having way less moral issues with Mitra than with Samar mostly because he seemed to have been brought up that way, and thrashing people was just ingrained in his personality and to a certain extent his culture, I didn't have to suspend disbelief to buy that side of his character.


Moral issues notwithstanding, Prasthanam also gets very dark around intermission, and unlike the dazzling filmi spectacle that is Raajneeti, this one will turn your stomach upside down with a few very believable scenes. Though it does commit the same sin as Raajneeti by overstaying its welcome. Still, with a few snack breaks and a song or two here and there to break it up, it manages to stay on the interesting side for most of the last hour. Especially since there's another black and white twist to the tale. Than than thaaaan!...

Hah! I haven't done a cheese rating in so long, I may have gotten rusty at it. Let's see... Prasthanam is like... Parmigiano-Reggiano. It's harsh and rough, and it won't cooperate when you try to cut it to size. But if you let it have its way, it's sure to make it into more than one dish on your table, as it has something to entice every taste. It may remind you of other cheeses, but the unmistakable flavour will ensure it holds on to its rightful spot in your memory. You may remember the bitterness more than any other taste, but sometimes, that's what makes a cheese, and a movie, special.