‘The Disciple’ movie review: A stunning meditation on artistic despair

Express News Service

In Court, first-time director Chaitanya Tamhane painted a stark (and savagely funny) portrait of the Indian judicial system. The 2015 Marathi-language film relied on a simple juxtaposition: the gap between exalted legal ideals and their actual process. A similar tug-of-war invigorates The Disciple, Tamhane’s second feature, about a young classical singer named Sharad (Aditya Modak).

In the opening scene, the camera closes in on a musical performance in a large hall. We’re introduced to Sharad’s father, a veteran vocalist and teacher, and then, as the frame tightens up, to Sharad himself. A second-generation classical performer in Mumbai, Sharad has grown though hardly blossomed in his father’s shadow.

There are tender flashbacks into their past, which reveal a broken family and a missed childhood. Sharad bears this resentment quietly but firmly it doesn’t take long for him to say, “Don’t compare me with my father. If I fail, I won’t go around blaming the world.” Still, he cares for him all the same, tending to his failing health and backing him up with a large sitar.

The film, which is also written and edited by Tamhane, follows Sharad’s disillusionment over a long period of time, from youth to middle age. These sections are tied together by a motif: Sharad listening to lecture recordings of Maai, a reclusive, enigmatic maestro who trained his father.

In her peaceful voice, she reveals to him the core tenets of classical singing sacrifice, asceticism, pain. Sharad clings to this bushido-like code, but can barely keep up.

Like any ordinary artist, he frets about the niceties of performance, experiences jealousy and hurt, and, in one telling scene, even lies to a friend. Just what, exactly, is he missing out? Time and again, Sharad is accused of impatience, of a certain ‘restlessness’ in his mind.

This puts him at odds with Tamhane’s filmmaking. The director is all poise and perseverance, furnishing each scene with an uncommon depth. He has a distinct way of filming wide spaces usually with static shots from a distance (the cinematography is by Michał Soboci ski). His use of editing is near imperceptible but can deal great damage.

It’s hard not to crack up when Sharad watches, on TV, a woman at a reality show contest. She ends up wooing the judges, and the scene abruptly cuts to Sharad in a hall. Like Court, The Disciple immerses us in its chosen milieu.

Tamhane’s research is exhaustive a simple conversation on a train yields a reference to Dover Lane Music Conference in Kolkata. Sharad’s father is played by Dr. Arun Dravid, a real-life classical singer, expert and lecturer. There’s much devotion to the greats, but their life isn’t rarefied.

We see an ancient art form eroding away its practitioners dependent on a few wealthy sponsors here and there. But The Disciple isn’t a sympathetic film; it points up the stubbornness and absurdity of these artists as much as the commercialism surrounding them. Debutant Aditya is a classical singer too, though a more accomplished one than Sharad. Winningly, he brings a striking authenticity to the part.

There’s a memorable scene where a music critic spills scandalous gossip about the masters of the craft. Sharad listens intently, even egging the man on to speak. But then a line is crossed, and Sharad assaults him with a glass of water. It’s a funnily harrowing scene, all his years of indoctrination and rage coming out in a splash. The Disciple stands out in a small crowd of recent Indian films about music.

Too many of them come ringed with hope, the artist always parlaying his creative frustrations into something worthwhile. Sharad’s journey follows a simple track: he goes from hapless student to quiet custodian. Only once does he break character, slipping away to play cricket at a field. It feels like a mercy.

THE DISCIPLE

CAST: Aditya Modak, Dr. Arun Dravid

DIRECTOR: Chaitanya Tamhane

STREAMING ON: Netflix

RATING: 4/5