Week #8: A Death in the Gunj is simply brilliant
I recently re-watched A Death in the Gunj after about five years. It's a film that ranks high on my list of all-time favourite ones. It’s based on a short story written by director Konkona Sen Sharma’s father and is in turn inspired by true events.
23-year-old Shutu (Vikrant Massey) is sensitive, fragile, timid and misunderstood—a person whose innate nature becomes his undoing in a family and social circle that sees his qualities as weaknesses and shortcomings he is expected to outgrow.
The film is essentially about Shutu’s death at the hands of those closest to him. They do not kill him per se, but through neglect and dismissal, they lead him to his end.
A Death in the Gunj is a nuanced exploration of how the people who are supposed to support us can sometimes, knowingly or unknowingly, drive us into dark places.
The film is set in 1979 in McCluskiegunj, which at the time was an Anglo-Indian town in the state of Bihar. Shutu belongs to a well to do Bengali family and in McCluskiegunj the family has gathered together for the December holidays at Shutu’s cousin Nandu’s (Gulshan Devaiah) parents house.
This intimate setting brings together a diverse cast of family and friends, including Nandu’s wife Bonnie (Tillotama Shome), Bonnie’s friend Mimi (Kalki Koechlin), Nandu’s parents played by Tanuja and Om Puri and friends Vikram (Ranvir Shorey) and Brian (Jim Sarbh).
The family’s interactions with Shutu form the core of the film, highlighting their ignorance toward him.
From the outset, Shutu is set apart from those around him. We don’t know why, what, when or who set that precedent, but it’s existence is obvious. He is treated like a kid, but is also expected to get his act together.
For instance, in the first few scenes Nandu orders Shutu around impatiently to lock the car and switch off the headlights. As if it were Shutu’s job to take care of Nandu’s car.
There’s a huge tree in the grounds of the sprawling home that is inscribed with Bonnie, Nandu, OP (Nandu’s father), Mimi and Tani’s (Nandu and Bonnie’s daughter played by Arya Sharma) names. Tani asks him why his name isn't there, Shutu replies, “It isn't there?” And the scene cuts to something else more pressing than Shutu’s absence from the tree.
At various points in the film, Shutu becomes a substitute for a servant as people casually tell him to fetch custard, light their cigarettes and clean up oil spills.
During a seance, a spirit is asked who amongst them will die first. The whole set up is a prank on Shutu led by Vikram. Of course, for them it’s just an innocent joke as the ‘spirit’ answers that Shutu will die first. Little did they know that a few days later, Shutu would indeed be dead.
In the family, Nandu’s mother (Shutu’s aunt) seems to be the only adult who cares about him, but even her extent of care is limited as later in the film we see her telling everyone (in Shutu’s absence) about his failing his exams. Shutu happens to hear this and is visibly hurt.
She too, like the rest of them sees Shutu not as a person but as an amalgamation of various problems and flaws.
We never learn much about Shutu’s past or what made him this way, but a longstanding loneliness is palpable.
Shutu’s connection to his recently deceased father is evident, especially as he wears his father’s sweater throughout the film.
There are various such incidents throughout the film wherein Shutu is cornered, bullied and belittled, each such incident adding to the kindle waiting to devour him once ignited. I recently wrote about troubled people that meet grim ends partly because they are trapped in worlds with no allies.
Shutu’s closest companion is Tani, who is probably under ten years old and is the only one who doesn’t judge him.
Through Shutu and Tani’s relationship we find out that Shutu can appreciate the little things in life. For instance, during an afternoon when Tani asks Shutu what he is doing, he says he is trying to draw a frog that he saw loitering in the bathroom earlier, he then shows her a list of his favourite words that start with E (first among them is eulogy) and then shows Tani a dead moth flattened between the pages of a diary.
Shutu could certainly thrive in an environment that was less hostile, but tragically, the weight of the world and the relentless reminders from his supposed loved ones of what they see as flaws push him to the point of no return.
In a heartbreaking final act, even in his last moments, he thinks of others before himself–whispering an apology just seconds before pulling the trigger.
After his death, we catch a glimpse of Shutu’s spirit in the backseat of the car, as Nandu and Brian drive to Calcutta with his body dumped in the boot.
Shutu’s ghost sits there, haunted himself rather than haunting others and far from at peace. His unsettled presence is a tragic reflection of his life: he looks across at Nandu, almost as if he’s still searching for validation that will never come.
And though Shutu is gone, he leaves an indelible mark as he shoots himself next to the very tree from which he was excluded, his blood staining its trunk perhaps for a very long time to come.
Shutu was left to his own devices in the end, but what no one could understand is that he had none.
PS: Apologies that this write up came a day later than it was supposed to.
Coming up
In Week #9 of What I Saw Last Week: Am I OK? directed by Tig Nataro and Stephanie Allynne arriving November 24.