Pondicherry, Review: Enough icing, but the cherry is missing

Marathi language Indian film Pondicherry is like a French patisserie (it used to be a French colony), with some delectable pastries to savour. It uses the relatively unknown locale quite well, and incorporates tastes of various other languages, besides Marathi: Hindi, Punjabi-accented Hindi, English, Tamil and French. It also uses characters from the ages of 7 to 70, to be really democratic in its story-telling. Having set the base of the cake and the icing just about right, it then somehow forgets to put a cherry on top. For those who did not get the allegory, the film had many more possibilities then it ended-up tapping. And yet, it is innocent, innocuous and an easy watch film.

In Pondicherry (south India, bordering Tamilnadu state, also known as Puducherry), Pune (Maharashtra)-born Nikita runs a home-stay, with the help of a loyal caretaker. She started this because she had visited Pondicherry, met her husband there and liked the place. Moreover, her husband is a Navy-man, who spends six months of the year at sea, so she needs something to keep her occupied. Along with the home-stay, she also serves as a tour guide, since she can speak English and French, besides Marathi and Tamil. She has a young son, Ishan, who is precocious, and a little too smart for his age. Into this world comes a man named Rohan.

As he alights from a car, his colleague hands him a gun, but Rohan returns it, saying that this time, his handsome face will do the needful, and the gun will not be needed. Although he had initially booked a room at Nikita’s home-stay for just a day, he extends his stay by a whole month. As the days go by, he gets close to Ishan, and through Ishan, to Nikita. Nikita’s mother is in constant touch with her on the phone, and even visits her. But she would like Nikita to sell off that property and move back to Pune. And then two vital developments take place. Firstly, Vishnu, Nikita’s husband, has not come back in a long time and there are fears about his having been drowned at sea. Secondly, Rohan reveals that he has come to take over the property on behalf of his principals, and turn it into a six-room boutique hotel. Suddenly, Nikita’s world seems to be crumbling beneath her feet.

Giving the tale a delicate treatment, writer Tejas Modak (Gulabjaam) dots it with some interesting nuances. Almost everybody, and Nikita in particular, is always walking or running. Nikita explains this trait by saying that it helps her get over sadness. Modak uses the kid to both conceal and reveal secrets, as is the norm with most children that age, and thus further the story.

But there are trappings that could have been avoided. The gun bit is out of place. The co-incidence of Rohan’s ex-wife landing at the same home-stay, with her fiancé, is too much to digest. The sequence at the school is nothing if not touching, yet it does not ring true. And the smelling of clothes is taken too far. Pondicherry gives the feel that the writer worked with the germ of an idea, but could not translate it into a more engaging narrative.

Director Sachin Kundalkar (Rajwade and Sons, Vazandar, Gulabjaam) has handled the film sensitively, looking at women’s world from their point of view. There are three major female characters, and they largely ring true. So do the three male characters. However, for the major part, it is a sad story, with little or no relief. Nikita faces the prospect of being widowed and losing her home-stay, Manasi (Rohan’s ex-wife) is rejected by her divorcée husband-to-be, and Nikita’s mother, apparently widowed, is all lost, wanting her back in Pune, and endorsing the sale of the property.

By comparison, the male characters have it easy, or, at least, easier. Rohan loses nothing, Nikita’s loyal caretaker is open to serving his new bosses should, should the home-stay be sold, and Manasi’s fiancé drops her like a hot cake when an unexpected development takes place. Though not the tear-jerker kind, melancholia pervades all through. Unlike an open ending, the end is a sort of compromise, a ‘neither here nor there’ kind of predicament.

Understated and business-like in her dealings, Sai Tamhankar as Nikita conceals a volcano in her heart. Her performance elicits both sympathy and empathy. Vaibhav Tatwawadi as Rohan has the right physique and is quite convincing. Amruta Khanwilkar has a smaller role and fits the bill. As the child, Ishan, Tanmay Kulkarni is just a bit over-the-top, but child roles do not generally appeal unless they are either depicted as brutalised, naughty or precocious. Old-timer Neena Kulkarni makes the ideal mother, looking the right age, and dishing out what she believes is the right advice to her daughter. Gaurav Ghatnekar is passable as Manasi’s fiancé. Bhupendra Jadawat plays the caretaker, and plays it well.

Shot on an Apple iPhone by Milind Jog, the choice has worked both for and against the film, but, to be fair, largely for: it must have saved them a lost of money. It goes against the film when there are some scenes that show inappropriate light or some shadows. Abhijeet Deshpande's editing keeps the film to 110 minutes, which could have been even shorter, for better impact. Tejas Modak has done the wall paintings and the credit titles too. Kudos for that. Some shots appear repetitive, but that is the city growing on you. Music by Debarpito Saha is pleasant and unobtrusive.

Pondicherry is an ode to the city-state, which has attractive beaches, but from where the caretaker of the home-stay goes to Goa for his holidays. It had all the makings of a feel-good movie, but as it turns out, it is more sad than good. You could still see it, smile a little, wipe a little tear and emerge unharmed from the visit.

Rating: ** ½

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ze-2wc_h1Ig