Ardh Satya (half-truth)

ARDH-SATYA

Rating: Masterpiece
Genre: Crime/Drama
Director: Govind Nihalani
Cast: Om Puri, Smita Patil, Sadashiv Amrapurkar
Writing Credits: Vijay Tendulkar, S. D. Panwalker, Vasant Dev.
Cinematography: Govind Nihalani
Year of Release: 1983


Ek palde mein napunsakta, doosre palde mein paurush, aur theek tarazu ke kaante par, ardh satya
(On one side of the balance lies virility, muliebrity on the other and the needle in the center represents the half-truth.)

Ardh Satya (half-truth), Govind Nihalani’s third film as a director released at a time when the average film was a typical ‘masala’ fare. The 80s signified a period when commercial Hindi cinema embraced escapism like a vital life force. Most films that released in the 80s had nothing meaningful to say. Usually, they conformed to a particular formula: a larger than life hero, a buxom and somewhat intractable heroine, lots of action, quotidian musical numbers and a mandatory happy ending. That Ardh Satya did well commercially in those times (helped in part by its shoestring budget) is testament to how unerringly it struck a chord with the masses.

The same people, who flocked to see their dreams come true on screen, found solace in this gritty, dark film about rampant corruption, hooliganism and police atrocities. For a brief moment, it seemed that people were ready to accept alternative cinema steeped with realism, but it turned out to be just another false alarm, unfortunately.

The plot: Anant Velankar (Om Puri), a sub-inspector in Mumbai, is an honest cop. He tries his best to bust goons belonging to a local gang-leader Rama Shetty (Sadashiv Amrapurkar making his debut) but comes up empty because of the latter’s political influence. He also becomes a subject of inter-departmental politics, which further abets his fall from grace. Frustrated by the turn of events, he turns to alcohol, and from there on has trouble connecting with anyone except his sympathetic boss (Shafi Inamdar as Hyder Ali) and his girlfriend Jyotsna Gokhale (Smita Patil).

In a way, Anant Velankar is like Travis Bickle from Martin Scorsese’s brilliant treatise on urban alienation Taxi Driver. He is a loner; has trouble connecting with people, and carries several emotional scars from the past. Anant’s father (Amrish Puri), a tough authoritarian, is also a part of the Police Force. He has no qualms in beating his wife and absolutely rejects the notion that his son should become anything but a Police Officer. Anant fulfills his father’s wishes by sacrificing his own dream becoming a professor in arts.

The crux of the story therefore is Anant’s quest for virility. When his senior officers ridicule him (by setting goons captured by him free), he feels as if he is castrated. It affects him to such an extent that he becomes prone to sadistic outbursts. Small criminals held in captivity fall prey to his wrath, as he slowly loses control over his sanity. The sum of all these events leads to a catharsis that I won’t reveal. It is best to watch it first hand, in case you haven’t yet seen the film.



Govind Nihalani belongs to the rare breed of directors in India, who use the medium to highlight moral and spiritual dilemmas facing the common man. His films are not rich in populist craft (songs, flights of fantasy, happy conclusions etc) but use minimalist technique instead. The masses see it as a ‘distancing’ strategy and few people other than the intellectual class patronize his efforts in general. His films are also unfairly labeled as part of ‘parallel’ cinema a distinction from the commercial ventures that characterize Bollywood. Pity, because they are true examples of art just like Satyajit Ray’s masterworks.

Nihalani who started out as a cinematographer, knows how to trust his audience. His style is Spartan and his characters speak only when it is necessary. Key to his approach is the use of close up shots, used mainly to reveal inner feelings. There are several shots in the lock up room (prison cell), which highlight the effectiveness of using such an approach. They portray the brutal violence of third-degree torture, without having it to show it on screen. The same applies to scenes of anguish and indecision as applied to Anant and Jyotsna. Nihalani believes it is better to leave things unstated instead of belaboring the obvious.

Another noticeable Nihalani trait is to depict ordinary life in its complete richness, allowing us to be a part of the experience. There is nothing phony about any of his shots; each and every scene is shot with machine-like precision, adding texture to the main story. Notice for example, the scene where Shafi Inaamdar calls Om Puri on the phone, with a woman dressing up in the background. (Who is she? His wife? A prostitute?). A simple scene like that goes a long way in adding nuance to a character, without the need for extra exposition.



Ardh Satya also justifies its greatness in the performance arena. The greatness (typical as it is with all great films) stems from the complexity inherent in the script, instead of relying on individual brilliance. Om Puri as Anant Velankar, plays a flawed and tragic hero with great verve and simplicity. His pain, his anguish is palpable, but his sadistic behavior alienates him from us. There are moments of blistering intensity in his performance that will undoubtedly gain a round of applause, but to his credit, Om Puri also breathes life in scenes that portray the banal aspects of everyday life. It’s a performance that is both ‘natural’ and studied, just as we have come to expect from the master thespian.

Smita Patil is equally impressive in a supporting role. Her naturalistic and understated portrayals have gained her a legendary status over the years since her demise, and it’s easy to see why such is the case. Sadashiv Amrapurkar, plays his role with a quiet menace in sharp contrast to his tendency to go over-the-top in commercial films (Sadak, Akhree Raasta). He is slimy and self-effacing but deadly as a rattlesnake. It’s a measured performance that mirrors the characteristics of a scheming politician without ever jumping into the parody mode.

The rest of the supporting cast (Amrish Puri, Shafi Inaamdar et al) also acquits itself admirably. Of special note is the brief but extremely potent performance by the great Naseeruddin Shah. His character (Mike Lobo) is a cop under suspension a washed-up alcoholic, who functions as a portentous sign for things to come. His emotional and physical ruin, in the face of his naïve defiance against the corrupt system, adds to the tragic tone of the film and also forms a great cinematic moment.



Ardh Satya is an example of a film that is ‘real’, somewhat dry and detached, but packs tremendous emotional resonance. Twenty years after its first release, it still remains relevant because corruption in India has only increased, as the years have gone by. Films like Shool, Kurukshetra etc have tried to tap into the same idea but have fallen short in terms of emotional impact, and narrative fluidity despite the presence of heavy crowd-pleasing rhetoric in the two films.

The film plays like an existential nightmare, where callous indifference and mad rage for power co-exist peacefully. For the honest at heart, there is turmoil lurking beneath the cover of apparent calm, just like the occasional smile on Anant Velankar’s face. The question is, how does a person like Anant Velankar fit inside such a world? In Govind Nihalani’s view, he simply doesn’t.

The film practically screams for attention on the issue of everyday life in developing countries such as India. What should a person with an iota of conscience do in a hostile and corrupt environment? The movie offers a solution, but I don’t think it endorses it. We, the viewers, are left to draw our own conclusions or in the least, question our passivity and general indifference towards the world, outside of our own self-important imagination.

Ardh Satya is an essential film for any true fan of cinema. It is rich, layered and full of great performances. But above all, it’s a thinking man’s movie. It is provocative and challenging, without ever resorting to effusive melodrama and overt manipulation. To say that it does justice to its subject matter is an understatement; to know that people shy away from such films is nothing short of an atrocity.