If you wanted proof of how many light years ahead of Bollywood, regional, especially Marathi cinema has gone, go watch Natsamrat. At a time when you forget most films soon as its pre-release buzz is over, this one grips you from the first frame and stays with you long after it is over.
Nana told me in an interview how he only dreamt of playing Ganpatrao Belwalkar, the protagonist theatre actor, when very young. “I was too young and inexperienced to be considered or take on something as huge,” he admitted and added, “Now at this stage, I don't think I have the necessary physical, mental and emotional wherewithal to take on something as intense show after show.” The way Nana’s lived the role on the reel, though, has set a new gold standard not only for this part (what Dr Shreeram Lagoo did for the play) but even in stepping into the skin of the character on screen.)

Abandonment and abuse of elderly is not a theme new to the silver screen. So yes, there are throwbacks to Baghbaan, Amrit, Avatar and Bidaai here but what set Natsamrat leagues ahead is the more-than-able help it receives from its namesake classic play by V V Shirwadkar. Kudos is also due to Abhijeet Deshpande and Kiran Yadnopavit who have while keeping the core of the classic intact judiciously used cinematic licence to ensure the film works independently as a movie too.
Given its theatrical base, the film is heavy on words. But both how powerfully they were written four and half decades ago by Shirwadkar and the life that Nana pours into every syllable never once makes it seem wordacious. His soliloquies leave you hypnotised and I must admit that I broke down when a broken-hearted Belwalkar pleads, “Kuni ghar deta ka ghar?" (Will someone please give me a home?)

That Nana is in top form and is only expected of this Vijaya Mehta and Sulabha & Arvind Deshpande protégé. But it's not like the other cast falls short of matching him more than ably. Whether it is the perfectly underplayed Medha Manjrekar who plays Kaveri aka Sarkar, Belwalkar’s wife, ( a role for which Reema Lagoo’s name was first announced and Nana’s real-life wife Neelkanti too gave a screen-test); Mrinmayee Deshpande and Ajit Parab (who play their children) or Sunil Barve and Neha Pendse (who play the kids’ spouses respectively) or even the absolutely charming granddaughter Pranjal Parab.
Unlike the play, the film has the character of Rambhau, Belwalkar’s friend and alter-ego played by the phenomenal Vikram Gokhale who dazzles despite the smaller role. Their scenes together throwback to what brilliant cinema and acting were all about. The twitch of a lip, the quiver of an eyebrow, Gokhale says what pages of dialogue can’t in one look. The last scene where Nana and Gokhale go through a conversation between the Mahabharata warrior Karna and Krishna leaves you hungering for more. But Rambhau’s dead and the story moves on.

I’ve been told that Rambhau returns as a hallucination long after his death in another scene, sacrificed at the editing table since the film was already 160 minutes long. Natsamrat team insiders say this scene could come back to be part of the film in a week. One hopes so. Audiences fed on starry big budget quickies which underwhelm will hardly complain.
The problem with any superlative art, even cinema is that when something (however small) goes wrong it becomes horribly magnified. For the second film in a row (after Katyar Kaljat Ghusli), the subtitles are done really shabbily. In this day and age of auto-correct, poor spelling and grammar are unpardonable.
http://googleweblight.com/?lite_url=http...NNweBDsBmQ
Nana told me in an interview how he only dreamt of playing Ganpatrao Belwalkar, the protagonist theatre actor, when very young. “I was too young and inexperienced to be considered or take on something as huge,” he admitted and added, “Now at this stage, I don't think I have the necessary physical, mental and emotional wherewithal to take on something as intense show after show.” The way Nana’s lived the role on the reel, though, has set a new gold standard not only for this part (what Dr Shreeram Lagoo did for the play) but even in stepping into the skin of the character on screen.)

Abandonment and abuse of elderly is not a theme new to the silver screen. So yes, there are throwbacks to Baghbaan, Amrit, Avatar and Bidaai here but what set Natsamrat leagues ahead is the more-than-able help it receives from its namesake classic play by V V Shirwadkar. Kudos is also due to Abhijeet Deshpande and Kiran Yadnopavit who have while keeping the core of the classic intact judiciously used cinematic licence to ensure the film works independently as a movie too.
Given its theatrical base, the film is heavy on words. But both how powerfully they were written four and half decades ago by Shirwadkar and the life that Nana pours into every syllable never once makes it seem wordacious. His soliloquies leave you hypnotised and I must admit that I broke down when a broken-hearted Belwalkar pleads, “Kuni ghar deta ka ghar?" (Will someone please give me a home?)

That Nana is in top form and is only expected of this Vijaya Mehta and Sulabha & Arvind Deshpande protégé. But it's not like the other cast falls short of matching him more than ably. Whether it is the perfectly underplayed Medha Manjrekar who plays Kaveri aka Sarkar, Belwalkar’s wife, ( a role for which Reema Lagoo’s name was first announced and Nana’s real-life wife Neelkanti too gave a screen-test); Mrinmayee Deshpande and Ajit Parab (who play their children) or Sunil Barve and Neha Pendse (who play the kids’ spouses respectively) or even the absolutely charming granddaughter Pranjal Parab.
Unlike the play, the film has the character of Rambhau, Belwalkar’s friend and alter-ego played by the phenomenal Vikram Gokhale who dazzles despite the smaller role. Their scenes together throwback to what brilliant cinema and acting were all about. The twitch of a lip, the quiver of an eyebrow, Gokhale says what pages of dialogue can’t in one look. The last scene where Nana and Gokhale go through a conversation between the Mahabharata warrior Karna and Krishna leaves you hungering for more. But Rambhau’s dead and the story moves on.

I’ve been told that Rambhau returns as a hallucination long after his death in another scene, sacrificed at the editing table since the film was already 160 minutes long. Natsamrat team insiders say this scene could come back to be part of the film in a week. One hopes so. Audiences fed on starry big budget quickies which underwhelm will hardly complain.
The problem with any superlative art, even cinema is that when something (however small) goes wrong it becomes horribly magnified. For the second film in a row (after Katyar Kaljat Ghusli), the subtitles are done really shabbily. In this day and age of auto-correct, poor spelling and grammar are unpardonable.
http://googleweblight.com/?lite_url=http...NNweBDsBmQ
