In his famous poem ‘No Amnesiac King’, AK Ramanujan writes: “One knows by now one is no amnesiac king, whatever mother may say or child believe. One cannot wait any more in the back of one's mind for that conspiracy…” The ‘amnesiac king’ here is Dushyanta, a righteous ruler who ‘forgets’ his wife due to a sage’s curse, and leaves her to fend for herself. In mythology, this conspiracy is the subject of a bittersweet romance as is often the case when there is a wronged woman at the centre of a story. She is pure and pristine, and eventually, the universe proves her right because of her virtue, and the man recognises the value of her womanhood.
But though the gentle and demure Shakuntala is from another era, the judgemental lens through which society views a woman and her morality has remained shockingly the same. Gunasekhar’s Shaakuntalam was an opportunity to interrogate such norms that have refused to change with time. Unfortunately though, the film offers nothing new in terms of interpretation or presentation, and is content to stretch a simplistic version of the myth to the length of a feature film.
The film might be in 3D; the characters, however, are disappointingly unidimensional. Gunasekhar fills Shakuntala’s world with deer, rabbits and peacocks, but who is Shakuntala herself? Samantha plays Shakuntala with a quivering vulnerability, and looks luminescent on screen, but the writing does not offer any insight, making it difficult to become involved with the all-too-familiar story. Dev Mohan as Dushyanta gets even less to work with – he’s occupied with hunting obviously fake tigers and is wooden when he needs to emote. The romance between the two is hardly moving no matter how many duets they sing, and so, when the betrayal happens, we’re left feeling just as cold.
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A lot of 3D movies end up looking too dark, and Shaakuntalam also faces this problem. This really hurts the world-building in the film, since the glittering waterfalls and verdant forests that ought to have presented a spectacle are dull and lifeless. There is a lot of talent in the cast – from Prakash Raj to Gautami, Madhoo, Aditi Balan, Mohan Babu and Sachin Khedekar – but they all look like they just walked out of a school stage play, costumes and makeup intact. The dialogues are written and delivered in a style that’s reminiscent of the mythological dramas we watched on Doordarshan. That worked for its time, but what’s the point in making the same thing in 2023? The background score, too, is melodramatic and old-fashioned.
Shaakuntalam was marketed as a ‘Disneyfied’ version of the myth – in case nobody has noticed, Disney princesses these days are wielding swords and questioning the wisdom of falling in love with strangers (remember Elsa?). This is not to say that Gunasekhar should have necessarily modernised the myth or added more layers to it, but even the drama within the existing story doesn’t translate to any excitement on screen. The screenplay has no highs or lows and is at a consistent flat line. For instance, you have Shakuntala being driven away from the palace after Dushyanta fails to recognise her, and before you can blink twice, the king’s ring is found in the belly of a fish. She is immediately proven right and he is immediately remorseful. Where is the pathos here?
Samantha tries her best to move the audience, but there’s only so much an actor can do when attempting to stay afloat in a tsunami of bad writing. Shaakuntalam is forgettable – and easily so, without the help of any conspiracy involving ill-tempered sages.
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 producers or any other members of its cast and crew.
Sowmya Rajendran writes on gender, culture, and cinema. She has written over 25 books, including a nonfiction book on gender for adolescents. She was awarded the Sahitya Akademi’s Bal Sahitya Puraskar for her novel Mayil Will Not Be Quiet in 2015.