Before the Rains (2007)

The Worst Film Ever

Don't Believe the Hype

Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

Good films always raise compelling questions, whether the format is fiction or documentary fact.

IT WAS DURING MY SEARCH for other works by Nandita Das that I came across 'Before the rains'. Ordinarily I probably would have given it a go-by but considering it had Rahul Bose in it too and was directed by the talented Santosh Sivan, it seemed worth giving a chance. In the first few frames itself the movie had me wrapped. The breathtaking locales of an enchantingly wooded Kerala make for a perfect backdrop to this tale of epic proportions. When Sivan's roving eye breezes past serene looking tea plantations and gorgeous gorge's carved out of nature's immaculate knife, one can easily see why he is considered one of the finest cinematographers in the country. Add to this the mix of warm locals buzzing around making small talk in Malayalam while keeping the prim houses of the English sahibs clean and you have an interesting concoction of stories ready to spill over.'Before the rains' starts off by exposing us to the core plot right away. That of the illicit affair between British spice baron Henry Moores (Linus Roache) and his housekeeper Sajani (Nandita). They nuzzle into each other's arms under the very roof that feeds her while collecting fresh honey from friendly beehives in the woods. Their seemingly hush-hush cozy little venture, though, has a silent confidant – T.K. Neelan (Bose), a handyman who works with the Englishman. He shares Henry's vision of cutting through the mountains to make that much awaited road that will transform the tea plantation into a full blown spice manufacturing unit rich with cardamom and pepper. Of course, this has to happen before the monsoon rains so that the road can sustain it. TK does not completely condone what Henry and Sajani share but he understands what love is. Given his adherence of friendship and loyalty to Henry he doesn't find it relevant to keep this a secret from Sajani's husband Rajat and her brother Manas. People he grew up with playing in the very forest that Sajani now spends her awake time enjoying Henry's indulgent kisses and hugs.Rajat is a tough guy who has no patience for Sajani's lies and deceit. Despite the lack of any concrete evidence against her, he knows something is amiss and suspects TK of being the guilty one. With things looking like this in walks Henry's wife and son one day. Much to Sajani's disappointment and frustration, her way out of her abusive husband's life seems to be by bridging the cultural divide that separates her and Henry. Things don't necessarily pan out this way when Sajani is beaten senseless one night and is forced to escape from her husband's heavy handed clutches. She runs to Henry's house (where TK also lives in an outhouse) and confesses her need to never have to face her husband again. Henry panics. This is a situation that he had not expected given the highest level of secrecy (and possible bottom line triviality) he had given the case thus far. It is then, on being rejected from Henry at such an important juncture, that Sajani, using TK's gun, shoots herself dead right in front of their bewildered eyes.'Before the rains' picks up momentum after this incident. The question of what is the right thing to do and who, more importantly, will do this becomes the focus. Will TK be the scapegoat for a murder that was inspired by Henry's lack of character? Or will TK go out of his way to tell everyone that it was Henry who was the cause of Sajani's untimely demise? What will be his true calling at such an hour – his ethics or his loyalty? Will Henry own up to his mistake and risk his spice project, and needless to mention his family's respect, altogether? Will the gora sahib pull his strings to come off unscathed in a time when it is so easy to do so? These are questions that the movie addresses as the frames pass by.Sivan's understanding of local sensitivity in a place like Kerala (pre- Independence) is obvious in every frame. Right from the attire the people wear to the 'Bharat Chodo' slogans that ring out across the quiet town in tropical Kerala is straight out of history's dusty pages. His bold showcasing of the flawed English colonialism sits bare as the one tragic incident stands to threaten an entire community. The subtle yet prominent mention of the price passion has to pay despite the odds being against a culturally diverse couple is very well showcased.Performances belong to almost everyone in the movie. Right from Bose, who plays the silent yet defiant Malayali foreman of the English sahib to Das, who plays the victimized and misdirected mistress whose fate eventually does her in. Each character in the movie does justice to a plot that, despite its simplistic way of handling the most complicated of situations, exposes the shocking hues with which the Raj worked in colonial India. At a time when most of the movies coming out of India lack that much needed strand of human emotion, 'Before the rains' stands out like a breathe of fresh air that underlines only one basic human emotion – conscience.

Before the Rains is a beautifully made drama set in south India in 1937. An engrossing story, it shows us what India was like and awakens our interest in foreign lands. But what stuck in MY mind was the extreme difficulty of having a sexual/romantic encounter in this time and place.Young people these days take their sex fast and casual. There is no way they can ever understand the restraints of the pre-1960 era (let alone 1937). And this was the case in India, or in the USA. With most women married well before their 18th birthday, with marriage being respected by society, with the remaining single people mostly being (obvious) born losers, non or extra marital sex was virtually impossible, and could lead to the serious and multi-complicated downfalls portrayed in this movie. Easy to say had the lovers handled things wiser or smarter their ultimate problems might have been easier. But wait, they DID handle their situation wisely......

Somerset Maugham was a master of colonial adultery. His short stories are full of it, men and women in this or that corner of the British Empire getting themselves into devastating marital fixes. In 'Before the Rains,' the Indian cinematographer and director Santosh Sivan muddles his tropical tragedy of adultery as Maugham would never have done.Henry Moores (Linus Roache) is a planter in the Kerala province of India where a fresh revolt against the British Raj is just brewing; it's 1937. He is having an affair with his beautiful native housekeeper while his wife and young son are away on an extended stay in England. On an idyll gathering honey in a sacred grove Moores and his housekeeper are spotted by two little boys while making love (though, lucky for him, they don't recognize Moores). Shortly thereafter Moores' wife and son return to India and trouble ensues that disturbs the house and the planter's ambitious project to build a freight road up over the hills. He was meaning to expand from tea into spices--generously promising to share the resulting profits with his local assistant, T.K. (Rahul Bose). T.K. is a childhood friend of Sajani, the housekeeper (Nandita Das) and lives on the premises, having in his possession a pistol Moores has just given him as a reward for his help and loyalty. Three guesses what that's going to lead to.In Maugham's stories the equations are simple and relentless. So are they here, but the power and focus of the story are undermined by the way not just one but all three of the main characters try to dodge the inevitable while the lovely lens of Sivan dwells overlong on the scenery indoors and out. Sajani is understandably unable to accept that she's dispensable. Moores, who is either spineless or a fantasist, tries to pretend nothing is amiss. T.K., who has one foot uneasily planted in each of two opposing worlds, thinks he can protect his Sahib and still not become an outcast in the village. But the village is a place to whose laws T.K. remains subject and in which Sajani still lives with an angry husband. The latter is already suspicious of her even before the boys tell their story and is permitted by the local code to beat her, just because he cares.Maugham would have brought things to their highest pitch in the awful moments when Moores's wife Laura (the usually excellent Jennifer Ehle, rather wasted here) looks for cheer or affection or even just ease from her husband and he cannot oblige. But Sivan hasn't enough time to draw the full value from that. He's busy with too many other things--the trap Sajani gets into; T.K.'s dilemma; the impending revolt; delays that may keep the road project from its necessary completion before the monsoon. There's much about the village system of justice, including a novel test of a defendant's truthfulness. There's even the repeated worry that Moores will lose the loan he took out for the road project. Maugham would wisely have paid a lot less attention to anything peripheral to the psychological and moral drama. The trouble is that Sivan's a bit like T.K.: he wants to work on both sides of the stream, shine his light on the colonials with their linens and khaki and bathtubs (and, like in Ang Lee's overwrought 'Lust Caution,' on their shiny period motor cars)--and also look into the village culture and the bonds of Indian family life. Besides which, he can't stop training his lens on the pretty surroundings, even though at this point they're certainly not a concern of the principals and shouldn't be ours.Everybody plays their role, nothing more: psychological subtlety is lacking. Sajani is beautiful and passionate and disappointed. Moores pleases everyone and no one. T.K. is sweaty and loyal. Moores' wife is confused, her final realization of everything coming in an instant with buggy eyes--no time for the slow burn. Though T.K. is pivotal, he isn't really interesting. We don't get to look into his mental confusion. This is no 'Passage to India', and subtle insights into racism and the breakdown of communication between cultures aren't forthcoming. As so easily happens when too many balls are being juggled, the pacing suffers and events just gradually lumber along. There's not much danger of giving away the ending because it's a muddle.The choice of a specific point of view would have sharpened and intensified everything. In the absence of that, the main characters lack complexity. Moores as played by Roache is almost a blank, hard to care about one way or the other. If only he were either a true romantic, or an obvious cad, but no such luck. If only T.K. had doubts, or were more foolish or overeager. Of course we care about poor Sajani, but this is most clearly not from her point of view: once she's in trouble, she is mostly off-screen. Ironically Moores' young son Peter (Leopold Benedict), though he hasn't many lines, seems as interesting as the others because he at least has an arresting face. We thought Merchant Ivory was a dead operation since Merchant himself literally passed away in 2005, but this is attributed to Merchant Ivory. It has the Merchant Ivory gloss but not the Merchant Ivory glow; in fact Ivory had nothing to do with the production. The director's earlier 'The Terrorist' was a vividly claustrophobic little story; interestingly, it was entirely and intensely from the protagonist's point of view, the thing that is so lacking here. Sivan has drifted, unfortunately, into a more conventional, diffuse mode.

Despite the mysteriously positive reviews and high rating, this is an awful movie. Awful enough, that l feel obligated to warn you how bad it is. The movie is set in the final period of the Raj, during the time of India's fight for independence. What follows in the ridiculous plot just fills me with disbelief. What the characters do and how they behave just does not persuade me that the characters exist in that era. For instance, would the young married Hindu housemaid from the local village have an affair with her married Englishman Master, knowing full well that discovery of the affair would likely mean utter social ostracization and shame if not mortal punishment? Unlikely, but still maybe. However, would the same young Hindu housemaid, in the conservative society of India of that era carry on like a half naked Britney Spears in heat, partake in hot outdoor sex during daylight in open view where they might be discovered at any moment? That is not only bloody unlikely, that is a retarded plot line.Such idiocies combined with the poor acting, drove me to leave the cinema an hour into the movie, so i did not watch the second half of the movie. One could only hope the ending is of more intelligence than what i saw in the first half.