That, ladies and gentlemen, is how good The Lunchbox is, and how honest its storytelling rings. The film assuredly glides past this gem instead of dwelling on it, and, in the process, enriches its own narrative. There is so much to love here - Mr Fernandez’s discovery the uncharacteristic puffing up of his chest the need to boast about what is not an accomplishment but feels certainly like a triumph - that this short, beautiful tale of an accidental portrait could well turn into a film all its own.Īnd yet in Ritesh Batra’s film, this is but a throwaway scrap of a very special conversation. And then he tells - or, indeed, confesses - all of this to a stranger. Usually a reticent man, he allows himself this rare moment of vanity and buys the painting. It is here that Mr Fernandez spots a likeness of himself, as a part of the throng - not that unlikely an occurrence, given that he has walked that stretch nearly every day for decades and decades. It is a street-side purchase of a street-side scene: an artist at a scenic vantage point draws the same backdrop over and over again, but with varied details each time, his mental snapshot making each picture a wholly different capsule of captured time. No, sorry, scratch that it is when a character narrates how and why he bought a painting. One of my favourite parts in The Lunchbox is when a character buys himself a painting. Raja Sen feels The Lunchbox is this generation's Masoom.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |