Review: The Namesake
THE AWED COUPLE
Irrfan Khan and Tabu shine in a heartfelt drama that’s aces as long as it stays focused on them.
APR 11, 2007 - UP THERE on the screen, Irrfan Khan has always seemed a little spaced out, his deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare suggesting that his brain has issued a directive that the rest of his body is still struggling to process – and I can’t remember a movie that has used this peculiar presence to better effect than Mira Nair’s The Namesake. Irrfan plays Ashok Ganguli, an Indian who settles in America, and there are times you think he doesn’t need to act one bit to portray the general unease so inherent in a first-generation immigrant – he just needs to be. He just needs to stand there, with the topmost button of his shirt undone, revealing the U-neck of the banian underneath – as he does in a scene where his son Gogol (Kal Penn) brings home an American girlfriend – and you know who this man is. Forget first-generation immigrants in other countries, we’ve seen him here, in our own homes – the befuddled uncle or grandfather or even father, whom we love but are also vaguely embarrassed by because they always seem one step out of sync with the rest of the world.
Irrfan is simply extraordinary – but the success of this character is as much the actor’s as the writer’s. (Jhumpa Lahiri’s novel was adapted by longtime Nair collaborator Sooni Taraporevala.) Together, they make you do something you don’t think is possible anymore in these blockbuster movie-going times: they make you care deeply about a very, very ordinary man. Ashok is so unremarkable, even when he makes love to his arranged-marriage wife Ashima (Tabu), he has no… moves. We see them lying beside one another in bed, some space separating them, when his hand reaches out tentatively and locates hers. A curve of breast peers through Ashima’s blouse as Ashok clumsily buries his head in her bosom – and suddenly, it’s a messy tangle of hair and clothes and limbs. Nair has always been a wonderfully sensual filmmaker, and she films these moments with such unfussy eroticism, you don’t feel like labelling it a “sex sceneâ€? – which is how we dismiss the kind of phony lovemaking we usually get to see on screen, with sleekly glistening bodies evoking pitch-perfect physical responses in each other. The way Irrfan and Tabu come together, it’s something else. It’s like life.
I’ve read somewhere – and maybe it was just gossip – that this is what scared Rani Mukerji off when she was being considered for the role, and all I could think after the film ended was, “Thank God.� Tabu nails the one (and possibly the only) consideration that dissolves the distance between actor and character: after seeing her as Ashima, you can’t imagine anyone else in the role. And as with Irrfan, the very aspects of her that make her stick out in the movies she appears unsuited for – the hesitant enunciations of a weak voice, the awkwardness of an outsize physicality – are the things that make her credible as Ashima, this stranger in a strange land. This is near-miraculous casting. Tabu and Irrfan play off one another beautifully, and after barely a few minutes of watching them, you believe they are made for each other – not in any grand, romantic sense, but in the hundreds of practical little things that bind couples together. And if there’s one scene that demonstrates this, it’s the one where Ashok receives a telephone call from India. It’s bad news from Ashima’s family and he knows he has to break it to her, but not until he’s prepared her (and himself) for the inevitable outburst of emotion.
It’s as beautiful a vignette between man and wife as I’ve seen in the movies – and it’s vignettes like these that make up The Namesake, which tracks the Ganguli family through happiness and heartbreak in their adopted homeland. The title actually refers to Gogol – he’s the namesake of his father’s favourite Russian author – and this is supposed to be his story (I think; I haven’t read the book), but you come away with the impression that this should have been named The Namesake’s Parents. It’s their characterisations that get the most loving detailing, and so it’s them that you care about the most. When Ashok and his parents come to take a look at prospective bride Ashima, she notices his shoes lying outside the room. She sees the “Made in US� embossing on the inside, and she slips her feet into them – as if trying out her compatibility with not just a new man but also a new country, a new life. There’s very little of this empathy in the way Nair shapes Gogol.
Early on, at least, she alerts us to Gogol’s alienation, showing that he has to be dragged to his sister’s naming ceremony or that he air-guitars to the distinctly non-Indian sounds of Pearl Jam. But once Gogol moves out of his parents’ home, it becomes increasingly difficult to tune in to whatever he’s meant to be feeling or doing. He falls in love with an American girl (Maxine, played by Jacinda Barrett), and she’s beautiful and kind and she unflinchingly accepts his otherness, so when he pushes her away after a tragedy in his family, you wonder why. Perhaps this tragedy has made him want to get back to his Indian roots, but it’s never really clear, for Kal Penn isn’t yet the kind of actor who can make us read his motivations as he stays silent, nor is The Namesake the kind of movie to rely on expository dialogue. I felt very sorry for Maxine, and I’m not sure that’s the intended response. Gogol’s interlude with Moushumi (the seriously sexy Zuleikha Robinson) is even more unconvincing, coming off like a waiting-to-happen subplot that got axed in favour of the scenes everyone wanted more of, namely those with Tabu and Irrfan Khan. The unhurried resonance of the early parts of the film is almost entirely lost in the later stages, as we jump breathlessly from episode to episode. (Or would that be chapter to chapter?)
The old-world softness with which Nair moulds her material is just right for the moments with Ashok and Ashima, but the parts with Gogol probably needed more East is East edge – because where his parents experienced mere anxiety, he experiences angst. (When the family returns to their suburban house after a trip to India and notice that self-styled graffiti artists have converted the “Ganguli� on their mailbox to “Gangrene�, Ashok thinks that some kids were simply having some fun, but Gogol rages, “I’ll catch the racist punks who did that.�) But that said, I’m glad Nair resists the temptation to tie her film – and Gogol’s destiny – up with a big happy bow. She knows as well as we do that the issues hounding Gogol aren’t likely to lend themselves to easy solutions, and that some battles are fought endlessly over one’s lifetime. It’s perhaps no coincidence that The Namesake opens with a railway-station image of a coolie carrying on his head one of those big steel trunks – for it seems to say that the one thing we never stop toting around is our baggage.
In India, we have our colonial baggage, and this results in the film’s most ironic segment, when Ashima recites Daffodils for the prospective groom’s benefit. (It apparently never struck her that she could have just as easily wowed him with classical music; just a minute earlier, we’ve heard her render a lovely snatch of Hamsadhwani.) Then there’s the baggage of Bollywood, which hovers over even a supposedly international filmmaker like Mira Nair. She can’t resist staging a wedding night sequence with a horribly conceived music-and-dance bit, set to a remix of Mukesh’s Yahudi hit, Yeh mera deewanapan hai. (I’m quite certain this isn’t what the elderly lady meant at the beginning, when she told the just-married Ashima, “Embrace the new, don’t forget the old.�) There’s the baggage of the original novel – and I guess, by extension, of literature in general. (We see a Francophile teenager immersed in Bonjour Tristesse, and we’re tossed little asides about how, for instance, books help us “travel without moving an inch.�) Finally, there’s the baggage we go in with – of our expectations. Those of us who’ve read the book, we want the pictures on screen to match the pictures inside our heads. The rest of us, we want Nair to recover from the belly-flop that was Vanity Fair and return to Monsoon Wedding glory. She doesn’t quite get there, but this is one of those times the people – Ashok and Ashima – make the journey more valuable than the destination.
Saw the movie a few days back, really a refreshing movie, all those scenes which you mentioned in your review - they are truly the best in the movie.. Kal Penn’s mannerisms and behavior seems to be so unpredictable - you don’t knw wot he’s goin to do next.. Haven’t read the book, but i must agree, a very good piece of film making.. Great review, Baradwaj…
Hi Baradwaj,
I saw The Namesake a few days ago and, like yourself, came out feeling indelibly impressed by Irrfan Khan’s performance. As you say, I think the best thing about this film is how it makes you care so deeply about a very ordinary man, probably because the way his character is conceived and enacted, we can locate our own histories within it.
About the rest of the film, I found it less than wonderful. That probably has to do with the fact that I have read the book and the film is a mere telescopic version of it. There are some nice moments - like the priceless look on Ashima’s face when Maxine addresses her by her first name - but on the whole, the book is a far more enriching experience. Nair’s working in a medium that doesn’t accommodate Lahiri’s gifts of expression, her style of quietly accumulating detail to gather revelation, and the narrative, which unfolds naturally in the book, is understandably compressed or lost in cinematic translation. However, for someone who hasn’t read the book, I think this movie is a gift, barring of course that one awful scene with the Susheela Raman song. What was that, a subverted homage to Deepa Mehta’s Bollywood Hollywood?
What i loved most about Irfan’s performance was he got his bong accent so right. It was hilarious! One of my favourite scenes in the movie was when Gogol brings Max home for dinner. Just the play of emotions on Irfan’s and Tabu’s faces was brilliant. As a viewer you could see exactly wht they were feeling
I love your reviews.
I felt that the film ended up being a trifle better than the book. If the book was primarily about Gogol, the film is about the Ganguli family. One gets so involved in the trials and tribulations of the Ganguli family that one doesn’t mind the length of the film. In fact, one almost wishes that the film could go on a bit more so that we could see what happens next in Gogols’ life, or Ashima’s or Sonia’s.
What I found most interesting was the point the book (and also the film) alludes to quite subtly: that cultural affinity is not enough for a relationship to work. Gogol marriage to Moushumi - a Bengali - collapses, while his sister Sonia finds an almost perfect partner in Ben - a half-Jewish, half-Chinese. This by itself can be the theme for a whole new book and a film.
Hi Baradwaj, I have read the book, not seen the movie yet. Just a point about Gogol’s relationship with Maxine. In the book, Maxine and her family didn’t so much accept him as absolutely took over his life. They were nice, but in a snooty, apathetic way - throughout the relationship there was a sense of Gogol’s silent unease, more so as it increased his embarrassment about his own family. His father’s death brought Gogol back from his stupor-like existence - once that happened, his relationship with Maxine ended too.
It was perhaps not easy to depict these nuances - conveyed through the narrator’s voice in the book - on film.
I went to watch Namesake with my almost Gogol-like Bengali boyfriend, and there were parts of the movie that really hit me for reasons more personal than intellectual. For one, i often feel like Maxine, trying to understand Bengali customs that are so alien to my South Indian upbringing. It also made me realize the uncomfortable truth that tragedies can sometimes change us - our values, our beliefs - and make us into those very people we have spent a lifetime escaping from.
Another unforgettable scene is where Moushumi resists being a ‘housewife’, and in frustration consciously chooses to have an affair. I have seen this rebellion so often in lives around me. And it is amazing how Nair has depicted the same in the movie.
But perhaps my favourite scene in the movie is the one at the airport when Irfan is leaving. There is this slight but very intimate nod he gives Tabu to reassure her, and I found the shot extremely moving. Especially because (thanks to the several reviews I read) I already knew that its the last time they are seeing each other.
Now i am heading for the book!!!
You need to read the book to fill those gaps. Can’t wait to watch this movie.
Sai Shankar - Thank you, though what you say about “Kal Penn’s mannerisms and behavior seems to be so unpredictable” was actually a bit of a problem for me.
karrvakarela - Oh yes, I decided to begin my review by mentioning Irrfan because everyone’s gone to town about Tabu and I haven’t seen Irrfan give many interviews or be asked to appear on Koffee With Karan
“the way his character is conceived and enacted, we can locate our own histories within it” that is just such a beautiful way of putting it.
NV - not qualified to comment on bong accent, but I’ll take your word for it
Aditya - Thanks. I think you’re the only one who feels the movie is better (among those who’ve read book *and* seen movie). But is this really that lengthy a film? I actually wanted a half hour more, so Nair would give Gogol’s life some breathing space.
Shuchi - Thanks for the inside info. What I got from the film was Gogol being embarrassed about his family at all times, and not especially when it came to Maxine’s family being around. I guess I’ll just have to read the book now.
SN - I’m not sure Maushumi’s affair is an act of rebellion, because Gogol doesn’t exactly expect her to cook and clean and keep house, does he? (All this from the movie; maybe he does in the book.) I think it’s more what Aditya said above, that both of them being Bengali simply wasn’t enough to sustain the marriage.
munimma - yes, ma’am! I do need to read the book now.
Hi Baradwaj,
When i said lengthy, I meant in terms of just the running time one typically expects in a film like this. As I’ve written, I actually wanted the film to be longer - I wanted more of the Ganguli family.
Also, the reason I like the film better because of the very thing you liked in the film i.e. the depth and importance given to the Tabu-Irrfan part of the story.
I’ve done some book vs. film analysis in my own blog post.
http://urgetofly.blogspirit.com
Baradwaj,
I don’t think i was linking being a “housewife” to being a cook, cleaner and shirt mender of the household. What i meant was that Maushumi rebelled against the “concept” of being a housewife (and not exactly the functions of one!?).
On a lighter note, here is one completely unimportant observation: There was a particular shot of the Howrah Bridge when 18-ish Gogol comes down for a visit to India. There was this tram criss-crossing the screen, and guess what the advertisement on it said: 148 ATMS across …!!!! In Calcutta? In the late 90s? Really?
Hi
I watched the film a few weeks back here in New Jersey, with a friend who has been urging me to read the book for months, because I would absolutely ‘relate to it’. Now that suggestion makes me shy away from things, since all I look for in a good book is a GOOD BOOK. She convinced me to go watch the film though, thank god, because I came away happy. The theater was packed and mostly with non Indians, and as the scene where Gogol rejects Maxine unfolded, there was a buzz and I could sense that he lost a lot of audience sympathy over that. Including mine.(Rani as Moushmi?? Good Lord!!) .
I meant Rani as Ashima?? (And am still gawking at the horror of the notion…)
I have not watched the movie yet. Shuchi has already said the reason for Maxine affair.
From what I remember from the book, the reason for Maushumi’s rebellion was her uneasiness with the fact that the marriage was what was expected of her by her parents. All her life she had done that and she was repulsed by that fact. Finally, when the marriage was also an similar affair, she could not take it.
It wasn’t even she adored the other man(he was like a teenage crush) making it all the more sad.
Too much of book info, but after reading your review, I was just completely surprised that Mira choose to emphasize the on the elder gangulis!
Although this movie has its charms, I suspect it looks better against the backdrop of recent viewage like Shakalaka Fuck Fuck, which is what Anurag Kashyap called his script recently.
Awesome review as always……….
Felt the movie was a bit overrated.
Irrfan & Tabu are just wonderful as the couple. Kal Penn was good too and the background score evocative…
I also found the movie very manipulative as it setup both the tragic scenes intentionally to leave you with a lump. Overall good work but not in the league of hollwood adaptations such as brokeback mountain
SN - ah, gotcha! And “shirt mender”?
Mickie - I’m not surprised about the audience losing sympathy for Gogol over rejecting Maxine. As others have pointed out, maybe the book paints a more empathetic picture, but the film makes him look like a bit of a jerk.
Sachita - “Too much of book info” not at all. That’s actually helped me close out the movie in my mind. Though now, after all this info, I doubt I’ll actually get to reading the book.
Manish - The Namesake isn’t perfect, but it’s worthiness is surely not due to a comparison against SLFF. Puh-leeze
Badri - Thanks. But part of the movies’ job *is* to manipulate you into an emotion, no?
i haven’t yet watched the movie but then reading your wonderful review made me realize that you have written some of my thoughts, esp. when i read everywhere good things about Irfaan and Tabu, I wonder if it should have been called ‘The Namesake’s parents’ and having read the book I can say that Ashima hardly had a role in the book, ok maybe about 8% and looks like Tabu had much more , but then how can capture so many elements of the book in a movie (the eternal debate)!
You nailed it. I saw this movie last November and have thought about it many times. To me, this is a good movie, not a great movie.
The main reason is because while there are amazing scenes (like the ones you’ve mentioned with Irrfan and Tabu and the one with Irrfan and Kal Penn in the car), there are many “okay” scenes.
I felt really let down by the okay scenes - I wanted every scene to be exceptional. I wanted to connect with Gogol like I did with the parents. That didn’t happen for me. And that’s why it is just a good movie.
So agree about Irrfan - he seems to have been sidelined but he was really the best of the cast - Tabu slipped once in awhile.
I thought there was some tension between Lahiri’s quiet writing and Nairs exuberance but agree that Vanity Fair was the pits and while The Namesake is no MW it still is a decent adaptation of a somewhat unfilmable novel.
springtime! What a joy in being and moving! Men are at work in
gerard butler photo*
he pointing to a picture onthe wall dot Exquisite picture! The
Badddy — Badddy..
Nice reviews. Especially what you wrote in about the ahem scene.. It never happens so perfectly in real life ever does it.
I really liked the movie, as you mentioned - probably a weakness of the storyline or of the director once Gongoli dies ( predictably even for those who havent read the book) — the movie seems to lose direction completely.
Good movie all the same.As is the review. Cheers