This year’s IFFLA opening film Dear Jassi by the renowned Tarsem Singh leaps right into a harrowing love drama that lands two lovebirds in a pickle due to classism. It’s not just any pickle, but a vicious and poisonous one.
Tarsem Singh knew what he was doing when he made The Fall, a film that has never left my mind for years. It has stayed so finely in my nervous system that whenever someone asks which childhood film shudders me, I’d undoubtedly name it The Fall. Ironically, he now confronts me with another film that not only sends chills down my spine but also leaves a permanent scar on my mind for eternity.
The opening film of the Indian Film Festival of Los Angeles, Dear Jassi depicts a tale of two love birds who happen to meet at a Kabaddi match in 1996, where Mithu finds Jassi looking at him with a smile on her face. He knew she was something more than just a spectator. Jassi knew that he was more than just a player. They meet and engage in conversation, and a sense of desire begins to blossom. Is this a Romeo and Juliet-type tale that makes it a classic? Or is this a rom-com adventure complete with sing-along dances to accompany us? Step back for a moment as this nerve-wracking and impactful film explores the formation of forbidden love, thickened by classism and blended mercilessly with assiduousness.
The platinum-covered gem lies in Tarsem’s screenplay, which glues the details of the sudden march of uncertainties through “revolving views.” He shifts the camera angle in a 180-degree spin at almost every corner of a critical spot, clasping us with a nudge to focus and ruminate. This is the spot where the context of forbidden love is elongated with meticulous sensitivity, which is instantly magnetizing. Both lovers’ compelling comparison, rooted in social hierarchy, upbringing, dialogue delivery, and even the depth of upholding pride, unfolds with zero filters. Mithu and Jassi explore love without any tarnish, acting out of free will, unaware that it will never be an individual decision. Yugam Sood and Pavia Sidhu tackled their roles with enthusiasm and deference, which elevated the film to a different radar.
Love knows no bounds, but when it surpasses its boundaries, a swarm of vultures may invade, stripping away all the purity that once nourished it. Tarsem gives us an overview of why love that develops quickly is never a good sign, especially when it involves orthodox families who are pious and clenched to their roots without an open mindset. Tarsem occasionally incorporates poetic elements into his witty conversations, revealing his personal perspective on the potential reversal of devotion in the path of humanity. It could be an educator teaching wisdom to cunning individuals or a musician spilling his sorrows through lyrical messages.
Dear Jassi may be calm and steady, but there is a coldness that dawdles throughout the film. A rare, gloomy darkness. What’s remarkable is how the film is arranged in an authentic yet throbbing manner. Almost everyone around Mithu and Jassi seems to be playing the role of exploiters, stealing every ounce of peace that they could afford while pushing the lovebirds away from any form of affection. These lovebirds, stuck in a maze, are forced to play the snake and ladder game with their own destiny. Tarsem reconstructs the film by adding just a ladder in a clump of snakes with them, where those snakes might share the same flesh and blood as the lovebirds.
The film stings with a note here. When love is involved, the world always expands. However, if one does not methodically adhere to conservative upbringings, love can come with a heavy price. A price that does not cost money, but something that destroys a person inside and out.
A pain lingers deep within as the film shifts into a horrifying diversion, which might never recover us. The biggest disclosure here is that it is based on a true story.
