How Amit V Masurkar’s Newton draws from the geography of Ramayana to tell the story of India’s tribal heartland-Entertainment News , Firstpost

Movies and shows, old and new, have helped us to live vicariously through them. They have allowed us to travel far and wide at a time borders are shut and people are restricted to homes. In our new column What’s In A Setting, we explore the inseparable association of a story with its setting, how the location complements the narrative, and how these cultural windows to the world have helped broaden our imagination.

*

During his India sojourn on the 2010 show Gordon’s Great Escape, British chef and TV star Gordon Ramsay visits a family of the Dhurwas (or Duruwas), a Gondi-speaking tribe living in the forests of central India. In their sparse home, he tries out a delicious, acidic, spicy chutney that knocks his socks off. “I won’t have mango chutney again,” he proclaims, before following his host deep into the forest, in a quest for the secret ingredient that makes the chutney.

He discovers, of course, that the mystery element is a species of red ant, along with its eggs. He is fascinated with the exoticism of it — what you would expect from a privileged ‘foreigner’; but he’s also enthused, like a child, at discovering a fresh new ingredient that goes into food. He tries it out raw (while those same ants are feasting on his body, ironically), exclaiming that it is sour. 

This gentle peek into the glories of tribal culture also plays out uncannily in Amit V Masurkar’s 2017 film Newton, where the eponymous protagonist (Rajkummar Rao) tries out the raw ants offered to him by his tribal colleague Malko (Anjali Patil). Newton is earnest to a fault, but in this particular moment, the clearness of his heart shines through. A familiar snack for Malko, she pops a few red ants herself, then asks him to try it. Surprised as he is with the idea, he does so without a hint of doubt. “Khatta hai,” he says. The red ants are sour. 

In the lush green countryside that Malko calls home, red is a significant colour. The Naxal insurgency has a foothold in the region; fighting and bloodshed between the State and the insurgents is never a surprise, just a tragic perpetual possibility. In a later scene, Assistant Commandant Atma Singh (Pankaj Tripathi) calls out ‘Laal Salaad’ (red salad) as he raises a toast with a slice of beetroot that he picks off a plate of chopped fresh veggies. The reference to the ‘red salute’ of the Maoists is yet another reminder of the dangers lurking in the place where the film is set.

In any movie, setting is sacrosanct. (If you don’t believe me, make your way onto the set of a film. You’ll hear the word ‘setting’ yelled across by the art or direction departments many times over, referring to the guys who’ll actually do the grunt work in set construction.) The ability of a film to draw you in depends so much on how believably it creates the world the story is based in. In Newton, though, in many ways the setting is the story. 

Newton tells the tale of an upright man tasked with conducting elections in a remote place in the tribal belt around Bastar in Chhattisgarh – a region that doesn’t usually have access to such mundane privileges. It could have been set anywhere in India, this story. India, after all, is where we set up an election booth for a solitary person living in the Gir forest. That anecdote is narrated in the film as well, but the choice of where Newton sets its story is critical. The jungle depicted in the movie happens to be Dandakaranya – the Forest of Punishment – where Ram, Lakshman, and Sita spent their days in exile, before their paths crossed with Soorpanakha and Ravan, kicking off the fabled war in the mythological epic Ramayana. 

You would think that if the birthplace of Ram was so significant, then this forest would similarly be considered sacred in its own right. After all, until he makes the choice to go to war South of the Vindhyas, Ram is just another exiled prince. Yet, in the decades since India became an independent nation, the State itself has ignored the plight of the people living here (and in other similarly remote regions), eventually ceding space and control to those among them that chose to take up arms and fight. The State loves its land, but not necessarily its people.

And Bastar is no stranger to rebellion. In 1910, tribal hero Gunda Dhur and his band of followers took up arms against the British against its land-grabbing. The might of the British eventually did quell the revolt, but it had far reaching consequences in how much land the Brits were eventually able to seize here.

The lawlessness of the region is evident throughout Newton, even though ‘lawless’ doesn’t necessarily mean violent. It also means that the people of the region don’t see the State as a protector. In many ways, they don’t even understand the concept of ‘the state.’ They are a people left to fend for themselves. 

Obviously then, Newton himself is driven to a point where he’s forced to pick up a gun in the film, aiming it at Atma Singh, an enforcer of the State’s excesses no less. Incidentally, during the incidents of the Ramayana, this region fell under the kingdom of Lanka. So Ram himself chose to pick up arms against the State right here, but that’s the sort of analogy that’s lost on people today. 

In the context of the film, the Maoist is the bogeyman. You don’t actually see any Naxals in the film. The only red that stays with you by the end of it is what Malko is wearing. She stands out against the green at all times, and this isn’t just about understanding primary and contrasting colours. Malko believes in the rule of law, she is no supporter of violence as a solution, but she empathises with those who see no other option. They’re all born of the same soil. Needless to say, Atma Singh, who is tasked with providing security to Newton and his election team at the booth, doesn’t quite trust her because she’s a local. 

Thus, one way or the other, the red threat ostensibly hangs over the film throughout. But by the end of it, you’re left imprinted only with infinite shades of green. Even when the film isn’t in the forest, green is everywhere. It is the colour of Newton, and it’s what makes the film a low-key visual masterpiece. You could watch much of the film on mute, just soaking in the surroundings of wherever the characters stop to sit. 

You do need to turn the volume back up when the tribal folk speak in their native Gondi. Not because you’ll understand it, but because every tongue we render unheard and invisible erases not just a culture, but a way of thinking. Personally, I’d have loved for the film to weave in Gond art into its telling in some manner, but the use of the colours in the film, specifically green, more than makes up for it. Shot with anamorphic lenses, which give blurred backgrounds in a frame an almost brushstroke-like quality, the film heroes the dense forests more than anything else. The art is all right there.

It is a gentle film, Newton. You realise that the visual journey it takes you on deep into the verdant hinterland is one that makes you feel safe. There are no villains in the film, no real threat. Newton’s adventure is about him, and us, coming to terms with the vagaries of reality in an oft-ignored region. You’re not meant to feel sorry for anyone, but you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least attempt to empathise. 

Read more from the What’s in a Setting series here.