The burdens of a middle class family weigh in heavily on Jaan, the protagonist of Rima Das’ fourth feature, Tora’s Husband. The context being lives limping back to normalcy after the gradual lifting of curbs imposed due to the pandemic induced lockdown. The demands of caring for his wife and children, managing his finances, balancing his business for sustenance, and navigating minor discord with his friends are compounded by the sorrow of his mother's distant suffering. In the solitude of the shower, Jaan weeps bitterly, overcome by a sense of confusion, helplessness and inadequacy in the face of mounting expectations.
It is difficult to witness your loved ones suffer because of one's own actions. The ensuing state of confusion and helplessness is paralyzing. Yet, there is no recourse. How does one endure such a burden? From one thought, Jaan is a businessman, from another he’s a father, and even from another, he is a husband and a son. He seeks solace and happiness in whatever way he can, even if it means engaging in, what according to his wife, Tora, is ‘selfish’ behavior.
Ultimately, Jaan's journey is one of silent suffering and resilience. He is grappling with the weight of his own choices and the pain he has inflicted on those he loves. Yet, he refuses to give up hope. He continues to search for meaning and purpose in a world that has turned against him. In some cases, he may even find himself falling in love with life again as Bishrut Saikia’s ‘Tenekoi’ sums up the entire theme of the film towards the climax.
While there are certain moments of quite grief, there is also warmth, joy, and the excitement of life in Tora’s Husband. The film captures the complex nature of life, whereby something can simultaneously be two opposing things. Rima Das’ characters, which are real people in real time, and her narratives, are attuned to the rhythms of the quotidian. It reveals the beauty and foulness, and the joys and sorrows that coexist within us all.
The filmmaking sensibilities of Rima Das are decidedly simple, yet they achieve a naturalism that is unmatched. This realism had worked wonders for her children-led narratives in Village Rockstars and Bulbul Can Sing, but it throws Tora's Husband slightly off the balance. The fluidity and authenticity inherent in naturalistic dialogue composition shifts, and the actors, who are real people tasked with spontaneous improvisation, grapple with the challenge of gracefully concluding scenes or sustaining lifelike conversations.
Moreover, the absence of scripted lines compels the actors into moments of self-awareness, occasionally causing them to overlook cues. These instances serve to fracture the intended seamlessness and realism sought by Rima Das’ unconventional cinematic approach.
Two instances from the film which sharply highlights these issues are: firstly, in the eatery where Jaan and a customer engage in a dispute concerning a waiter's behavior, the scene commences aptly but concludes with an evident lack of direction, leaving the actors uncertain about when and where to wrap it up. The argument persists unabated until a sudden, abrupt cut brings in the next scene. Secondly, a conversation unfolds between a woman at a nursery and Tora, wherein Tora expresses that her husband might be a good man but fares poorly as a husband. This exchange, marked by its discordant tone and stilted execution, appears awkwardly placed and delivered.
Tora's Husband marks a notable departure from Das’ prior works in several key aspects. Firstly, it shifts its focus from children to adults, and secondly, it delves into the social dynamics of urban middle-class existence rather than the quaint narratives of rural life and troubles. Das also endeavors to craft a character study centered on a female protagonist, although this aspiration is constrained by the film's ultimate alignment with Jaan's narrative. Jaan, the titular character of Tora's Husband, fulfills roles as both the family's primary provider and a husband and father and a kind human being, grappling with the complexities of balancing these many responsibilities.
It is a soft cinematic portrayal of the minor letdowns inherent in our daily existence. And concealed within its narrative is a secret interplay of misfortune and moments of delight. We all navigate through life, undefined, and our journey is not always marked by success. Amidst this trajectory lie good things, better things and also sad things. The pressing nature of the circumstances persistently lingers in the background. The distant wail of an ambulance often reverberates within the film's soundscape, occasionally making a visual appearance. Yet, Jaan never deters from his responsibilities.
Rima Das' films are marked by their distinctive use of imagery and style. She often employs shots of nature, flowers, water, and rain to evoke a sense of beauty and tranquility and the inherent use of symbolism lies therein. In Tora's Husband, for example, Jaan lies in a puddle of water, cuffing his ears, reminiscent of Dhunu in Village Rockstars. Tora contemplates and longs for her husband while she watches her husband sleep on the veranda, holding a flower, just like Bulbul in Bulbul Can Sing.
Jaan's face as he lies in the water reveals his inner turmoil. It can be seen as a symbol of his emotional state. He is trapped in a difficult situation, and he feels like he is drowning. The flower that Tora holds can be seen as a symbol of hope. She is still trying to find beauty and meaning in her life, even in the midst of hardship.
Rain is a paradoxical phenomenon, simultaneously a source of joy, pain, and grief. The children delight in the rain, playing in its refreshing embrace. Yet, rain can also descend unannounced, catching one off guard. The rain also mirrors the turmoil within Jaan's soul as he sits unbothered after a heated argument with his friends. Similarly, the dusky expanse of the sky emerges as a symbol replete with dichotomy, symbolizing the coexistence of many dualities. In its vastness, it harbors both mirth and melancholy, entwining the vitality of life as well as the inevitability of the shadow of death.
Tora’s Husband presents the audiences with an authentic sentiment of concealing one's sorrow for the sake of those held dear. Abhijit Das plays Jaan with much vulnerability and strength achieving such a relatable level of resonance that when his emotional façade fractures, the ensuing revelation proves utterly shattering. Rima Das shows us that life is not always easy, and that we all experience pain and loss. However, she also shows us that we are not alone in our suffering. We can find strength and solace in our relationships with others. Reflecting the essence of a challenging year, Tora’s Husband, along with its flaws, is a tender film that immerses itself in the charming splendor of existence, the act of living, and the optimism it carries.
