GGBB: Goopi Gawaiya Bagha Bajaiya
Hindi | 2019 | Animation, Comedy, Drama | Bollywood
Goopi loves to sing and Bagha loves to drum. Despite their
acute ineptness, their passion to sing and play knows no bounds. They meet in
the jungle, to where they are banished from their respective villages when the
cacophony they create becomes absolutely unbearable. An immediate bond is
forged between the two hapless souls, their destinies get entwined and Goopi
and Bagha become indispensable to each other, just as the naada to the pyjama,
the lota to the paani, the gulla to the ras!
The film has been produced by CFSI in association with Karadi Tales. Shilpa Ranade’s Goopi Gawaiya Bagha Bajaiya begins with an inter title that the makers must have slipped in at the last minute. ‘Goopi and Bagha salutes the Indian army,’ it reads, alongside an image of the duo, lanky and exaggerated by the blessing of animation.
For those who have seen SatyajitRay’s Goopi Gyn Bagha Byn (1969), or have read the
original story by his grandfather Upendrakishore Raychowdhury, which came out
in 1915, Goopi and Bagha are such familiar and yet distant figures, pure and
idealistic (not to mention so much fun), that it’s a bit unsettling to readjust
them to this new reality. Two wandering musicians who spread the gospel of
peace through songs, and put stop to a war between two kingdoms. Raychowdhury’s text is an allegory for
ages, but I doubt if Goopi and Bagha would’ve been more relevant than in a week
when border tensions between India and Pakistan are at peak, and a possibility
of a war breaking out is real. At one point in the film, the King of
Shundi, considers the costs of war; they have only 27 soldiers and a few horses
left, and large scale consumption of laddoos have rendered the elephants unfit
for war. Besides, it’s his brother, the King of Hundi, that he has to fight. ‘Can
this war not be averted?,’ he says. Rarely does fantasy, playing at a cinema
near you, juxtapose so seamlessly with the Breaking News of the day.
Weirder still is the fact that Ranade’s film, produced by the
Children’s Festival, MAMI, the International Children’s Film Festival in India,
but didn’t get a theatrical release. What are the odds Film Society, India, was
completed in 2013. It played at the Toronto International Film it’d have come
out this week?
But even without the unexpected urgency of its message, the
film is a treat. It goes like this: Goopi (Rajeev Raj) is a simpleton who has a
great desire to sing but lacks the musical talent. Sick of his harsh, atonal
singing the villagers complain to the king who banishes him to the
forest. Goopi enters the forest at night, scared of ghosts, where he bumps
into Bagha (Maneesh Bhawan), a percussionist, who happens to have suffered the
same fate as him. They break into an impromptu jam, and their jugalbandi,
although still out of tune, sounds better than the solos. It pleases the
ghosts, particularly the Ghost King (Shailendra Pande), who offers them three
boons.
Goopi-Bagha play it smart: they should have the tastiest
food, from shahi korma to daal pakwan, delivered faster than Swiggy; each get a
pair of chappals that’ll take them anywhere in the world; and most importantly,
they become really good musicians. Food, travel, art. What a life.
In a whimsical little departure from the original (the
screenplay is by Soumitra Ranade), the director adds a fourth boon – which
Goopi and Bagha save for the last. The instantly iconic Ghost King sequence
from Ray’s film (conceived under budget constraints and filmed in black and
white) was a psychedelic dance of patterns and lights. Ranade’s Ghost King,
that looks like a gorgeous cross over between the Chhau Mask and Andhra’s
leather puppetry traditions, is a worthy successor.
Normally a film with a completion-to-release gap as long as
six years looks dated. Goopi Gawaiya Bagha Bajaiya is so
richly imagined, so unique in its visual style, that it still looks unlike
anything we have seen before.
Ranade was the illustrator of Gulzar’s Hindi translation of
Raychowdhury’s story, and shares the same title. Also an animator and
filmmaker, she has spoken in interviews that in order to create the world of
the film, she borrowed from “everything around her, from carpets, to bedsheets,
to furniture”. Tactile and often two-dimensional, the film’s aesthetic
(the animation is by Aashish Mall and Mayank Patel of Paperboat Animation Studios)
feels decidedly Indian. But it’s hard to point out a certain kind of style or
influence. One moment I found myself thinking about the pale gloom of Tim
Burton animations, or the twisted city that sits on a mound in The Cabinet
of Dr. Caligari, and at the very next moment of Sukumar Ray. King of Shundi
is dressed up in something that resembles peacock’s feather.
The characters of the film – thin hands, long faces, big
heads – speak in rhymes and wordplays. The evil scientist who casts a spell on
the King of Hundi talks in reverse. When the King of Amloki gives orders to
banish Goopi, he orders, ‘Send him off on the back of the third and sixth note
of the sargam.’ That’s ‘ga’ ‘dha’, a donkey.
The songs – by the group 3 Brothers & a Violin – are faithful to the spirit of the compositions from Ray’s film, and their rare combination of comedy and Indian classical music recalls Padosan. There are songs of subversion, such as “Tark Kar Vitark Kar”, a call to ‘drop the sword, pick the pen, hammer and sickle’. But the one that stings the most, and stops the war, “Ghee Mein Ho Paancho Ungliya” (the film’s version of Ray’s ‘O re Halla Rajar Sena’), is all about laddoos.
The songs – by the group 3 Brothers & a Violin – are faithful to the spirit of the compositions from Ray’s film, and their rare combination of comedy and Indian classical music recalls Padosan. There are songs of subversion, such as “Tark Kar Vitark Kar”, a call to ‘drop the sword, pick the pen, hammer and sickle’. But the one that stings the most, and stops the war, “Ghee Mein Ho Paancho Ungliya” (the film’s version of Ray’s ‘O re Halla Rajar Sena’), is all about laddoos.
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