Rating :***1/2
One has to hand it to Madhur Bhandarkar for directing "Traffic
Signal". He has his own formula of creativity, which he applies
generously and sensitively to specific sections of people from every
walk of life.
Life for Bhandarkar's characters in "Traffic Signal" sucks.
They're often victims of sexual and political abuse. And you're inclined
too turn away from their anguish. What redeems these people are their
frailties and their unquestionable humanism.
The director captures them on a cascading and mutating canvas. We see
lives frozen in a state of emotional and economical imbroglio. The characters
are often seen doing the metaphysical equivalent of picking their nose
in public.
There's no shame in letting it all hang out as long as the characters
are prone to probe their wounds in bouts of agonized satire.
If "Page 3" probed the beau-monde with incredible emotional
sharpness, "Traffic Signal" doesn't lag far behind.
At first you are flummoxed by its breathless pace. No shot in the first
20 minutes lasts more than a few seconds. Bhandarkar wants us to know
the multitude of street characters in a quick spasm of introduction.
The street-smart and yet emotional Silsila (Kunal Khemu) - so named
because he was born the day Yash Chopra's film of the same name was
released - helms the proceedings. Bronzed in a remorseless sun, Silsila
leads a bright pack of traffic-signal derelicts - the beggars (quirky,
sweet, bitter and resilient), the eunuchs, prostitutes and children
(abused yet amused by the vagaries of life) ... Never before have Mumbai's
street people been so gloriously portrayed in postures of positivity
since Mira Nair's "Salaam Mumbai".
Indeed this is Bhandarkar's own sensitive, gritty and powerful salaam
to Mumbai done in shades that convey the will power of people to survive
on the harsh, bustling streets of Mumbai.
The traffic signal becomes as emblematic of their lives as the invisible
green and red lights that manoeuvre mankind from anguish to atonement
in that cycle of life that we call existence.
Bhandarkar's microcosmic view of the street people is cluttered with
characters who create their own little space in the bustle of the streets.
Moments remain with you - the orphaned little boy's determination to
retrieve his lost parents, the prostitute Noorie's (Konkona Sen Sharma)
growing relationship with the junkie street hustler (Ranveeer Shorey)
and the strangely ironical relationship that grows between passengers
in posh cars and these fringe people at street signals.
"Traffic
Signal" is a much bigger achievement than it outwardly appears.
Bhandarkar controls the vast cast through some adroit editing. Apart
from some repetitive shots of the mafia don (Sudhir Mishra), the narrative
moves forward with unshakeable determination, as if adamant of making
its way through a traffic snarl.
As in the director's earlier works, the performances by known and unknown
actors carry the narrative to the pinnacle of credibility.
A special word for Ranvir Shorey who takes to his part with the bewildered
expression of a man who's lost something valuable on the streets of
Mumbai. To watch Shorey at work in "Khosla Ka Ghosla" and
now "Traffic Signal" is to recognise the arrival of a significant
naturalistic actor.
Konkona Sen with her bright lipstick and crimson dialogues, Kunal Khemu
as the spirited but sensitive Silsila and Neetu Chandra as the tender-hearted
traffic-stopper - each invests a feline fluency to their bravura performances.
It's amazing to see Bhandarkar create humane relationships within traffic
snarls and to consider the possibility of street people bonding beyond
the rituals of day-to-day existence.
With an eye for detail that defines the cinema of neo-realism, "Traffic
Signal" hits you almost as forcefully as Bhandarkar's "Chandni
Bar" and "Page 3" - and far more than his last film "Corporate",
which was too niche to be universal.
Each of the characters in "Traffic Signal" connects with
the audience. You can't afford to look away as you may miss an invaluable
rhythm of life and lessons on surviving on the streets without losing
your dignity.