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Film Review: Moha (2023) by Santosh Sivan

The title, “Moha”, is a term found both in Buddhism and Hinduism, and can be understood as an attachment to worldly matters or as delusion and dullness. Prajna the wisdom, insight) is the opposition.

, a filmmaker from Kerala, is one of the greatest modern cinematographers from the
Subcontinent. He has never restricted to just the Malayalam language area and worked on films in
Tamil, Hindi, and others. He is remembered for his fantastic collaboration with Mani Ratnam on such
movies as “Dil Se”, “Iruvar” or “Roja”. Quite early in his career, he also took the helm of the director.
He delivered various projects, some of which were recognized in the festival circuit (“Malli”, “Terrorist”,
“Navarasa”, “Tahaan”), and some were epic blockbusters with a multistar cast (“Asoka” and
“Urumi”).

“Moha” is his latest directorial venture, obviously created with the festival audience in mind. It
detaches from conventional narrative storytelling and differs from the other films by Sivan-the
director (though not in terms of visuals, his camerawork is a trademark). Slightly it may resemble
“Navarasa”, which was contemplative and very experimental in form.

There are no dialogues in the movie, but it introduces the omniscient narrator, the one we well know
from literature, who reports the events and comments on the characters' choices. The rest we read
from the protagonists' body language and facial expressions, sometimes accompanied by sounds
(like whistling by the main male character). In a way, it refers to old traditional dance and theatre
forms using gestures as the main mean of communication with the audience. Like these forms, it
doesn't rely on silence, and movement is driven by the music. In the absence of dialogues, sound
becomes very important, be it the moody and traditionally-influenced background music or the
voices of nature, like howling wind, flowing water, or chirping birds.

“Moha” is set in a mythical “long time ago” and shaped like a retelling of a myth, which suits the
chosen dialogue-less form and the presence of a storyteller. We can't discuss the plot much, as it is
just specious: the peace of a mysterious hermit (charismatic ) is disturbed one day by
a female-shaped being (). Unfortunately, the film, which is drawing from the world
of symbols and philosophic systems, after the intriguing introduction, becomes more and more
blurry, hermetic, and lost in metaphors. It also relies on banal motives, like the female being a prized
possession and the subject of the power-driven rivalry of two males or earthly desires driving
someone away from the chosen path.

The title, “Moha”, is a term found both in Buddhism and Hinduism, and can be understood as an
attachment to worldly matters or as delusion and dullness. (Prajna the wisdom, insight is the
opposition). The narrator refers to “shakti”, which is the primordial energy of the cosmos, the female
creative, that is both creative, sustaining, and destructive. But the knowledge about those references
doesn't make the film more approachable or appealing. The depth of the tale becomes more and more
illusionary. However, the visual appeal still makes it worth a try, especially on a big screen. Even for
just one scene, with a nymph-like female moving, as if she was dancing, behind a sun-lit curtain. A
light and shadow play makes the curtain look like something of unique beauty, but with the beams
gone, it is just a torn piece of fabric.

About the author

Joanna Kończak

I graduated in the field of cross-cultural psychology, what made me curious of the worlds far outside my backyard. Hence you may meet me roaming the Asian and European sideways as I love travelling, especially solo. Have been watching movies since I remember, and I share the same enthusiasm for experimental arthouse as well as glittering blockbusters and the filthiest of horrors. Indian cinema became the area of my particular interest. Apart from being a frantic cinephile, I devour piles of books. As I have been working in the publishing house known for children’s books (and even authored a couple of toms) for over a decade, I became quite successful in hiding the dreadful truth: never managed to grow up.

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