Aachar & Co. is one of those films whose climax arrives just when you feel that things are starting to get exciting. In the film, we see Suma (Sindhu Sreenivasa Murthy, who is also the director and co-writer) evolve from a wide-eyed daydreamer who only wishes to be transported to London by her future husband, to a well-rounded person who starts to lead her family by example. As the film traces this coming-of-age journey that spans nearly a decade, the setting of 1960s Bengaluru helps us a great deal to realise its essence. As someone born into a family of 10 siblings, Suma feels lost in the crowd, and the fact that she is the least educated member (not even a “matric pass”) doesn't help her cause either. Her bubble of shifting base to London is burst one day when her prospective suitor chooses to marry her younger sister instead, only because she is a B.Sc graduate.
It’s a reality check, no doubt, and Suma is now forced to pay heed to the reality around her, accept it, and possibly do something about it. And since time is the best teacher (better than those in her school, for sure), she is left with no option but to slowly rise to the occasion.
On paper, Aachar & Co. sounds rather enterprising and the film’s trailer too promised this. The problem, however, is that the journey we just described seems to occur in such a scattered, slapdash manner that you don’t really spot a character arc in the film. As much as Suma's appearances do change — from a two-plaited teenager always lost in a reverie to a pragmatic woman — the change in her personality isn't necessarily felt by the viewer. The reason could be that the narrative takes way too long to find its centre.
The attempt, of course, is primarily to tell the story of a dysfunctional family. Madhusudhan Aachar (Ashok), Suma's father, is a stoic man who wishes for each of his three sons to become engineers like him, assumedly so that they enjoy the same ‘government privileges’ that he does. The daughters (seven of them), on the other hand, are given the option to study as much as they wish to but the end goal, as expected, is to find them each a great groom. The Aachar & Co. house looks fancy on the outside, thanks to the swanky ambassador car that’s parked outside (courtesy of the government job), but the insides are crummy, almost colourless.
Sindhu Sreenivasa Murthy renders this world with a Wes Anderson-like whimsy, carefully framing each shot and lending the narrative a vignette-like form. You do understand why the siblings wish to break free and why Suma, the oddest one of the lot, wants to get on that plane to London, but the issue arises from the fact that none of these characters feel like people or personalities you empathise with. Sure, the focus is Suma and her story, but a film of this kind, one that has a larger perspective in mind, cannot function without a set of fully-etched characters. The rest of the lot might not have an arc as substantial as Suma's but what use could they be of if you are not able to relate to them?
Take Jaggu (Aniruddh Acharya), the most ill-fitted Tenenbaum. He is the only known boozer in the Aachar household and also perhaps the only guy who is interested in the arts (Jaggu wants to be a theatre actor). The film starts off making him a character to watch out for, but soon after, and quite conveniently, it forgets to fill him with any kind of substance. Instead, Jaggu is left behind as a sidekick meant only for comic relief. There’s a brother character who moves to Delhi one fine day and is never heard of or referred to in the rest of the film. The mother in the film, played by Sudha Belwadi, is a bit too archetypal and much like the rest of the family, she too has very little distinct about her.
Another highlight of Aachar & Co. is that Sindhu Sreenivasa Murthy tries to tell the story through large moments or anecdotes, but I am not sure if the writing is skillful enough to seamlessly stitch them all together. You could tell that the core idea is to first bring to attention a large family and its quirks, and then ensure that all the drama gradually converges to add more girth and weight to Suma’s story. It’s an exciting setup, yes, but you also expect to get to know Suma a little better in these initial portions so that one could empathise with her. It’s not necessary that her subconscious desires are pronounced aloud, but it’s always good to understand them a little. What’s more troubling is that the writing remains meandering and purposeless almost entirely, never allowing us to fully soak up the yesteryear vibe and the nostalgia.
That said, there’s quite a bit to savour in Aachar & Co. I like the fact that Rangayana Raghu’s voiceover eases us into the story, but only wished it had been used in a more effective manner. I like the ‘mango’ metaphor, which compares a human life with that of a mango, and how it helps the director to bring uppinakayi (mango pickle) into focus. I also like how ‘The Pickle Song’ plays out, with the synchrony involved in the making of the pickle paving the way for musical harmony between the Aachar sisters. You’d wish to have seen more such sequences, where the story is informally carried forward through a careful interplay of the characters.
Bindhumalini’s soundtrack is super pleasant, inventive, and catchy. ‘Bengaluru’s Suprabhata’ is a smart twist on the MS Subbalakshmi prayer and it doesn't, luckily, go overboard with its smartness. The background score is suitably melodious yet playful, without really drawing attention to itself.
Ultimately, you are likely to walk out of the hall feeling that Aachar & Co. is a bit of a missed opportunity. It’s genuinely refreshing to see a woman filmmaker being backed by a mainstream entity like PRK Productions and that together, they have tried to bring something very unconventional to the fore. But it could be that the team laid too much focus on recreating an era and not as much on the script, which is found lacking in various areas. Nevertheless, Aachar & Co. could be an endearing watch for those who wish to relive the old charm of the Garden City. The film is currently playing in theatres.
Watch the trailer here:
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.