‘Iravin Nizhal’ movie review: R Parthiban’s breathtaking single-shot film is a remarkable technical achievement
The Hindu
What Parthiban, Arthur Wilson and their team have achieved — even if it went for 23 takes — is nothing short of phenomenal. They are sure to wow the National Awards committee
A single-shot film creates an illusion of continuity of time and space, like in real life. This ‘illusion’ or rather the technique employed to make the film look seamless is often dismissed as gimmickry — whether it is Hitchcock’s Rope or Sam Mendes’ 1917. In most cases, single-shot is a myth that filmmakers create in order to distract the audience from noticing the cuts, unlike, say, Don Palathara’s Santhoshathinte Onnam Rahayasam which was actually shot like a continuous film. In some cases, you cannot even guess these invisible cuts. For a single-shot film to work, the filmmaker has to sustain this illusion of continuity.
And it is not a coincidence that Parthiban’s Iravin Nizhal opens with a mirage: distorting images with lights and shadows tumble out, as Rahman’s haunting ‘Kaayam’ plays in the background. But, unlike the famously shot one-take films, there is no editing gimmickry involved in Iravin Nizhal. Before the film begins, a 30-minute video is shown to illustrate this point.
Single-shot films are so complex to execute that it begs us to ask this question: does this story warrant to be told in this format — like a single, unbroken shot? But that is the choice of the filmmaker and we have to only assess what we see on screen and whether it is working or not. One of the earliest and classic examples of a single-shot film is Rope, which Hitchcock once said, “ was an experiment that didn’t work out”. Hitchcock was so enamoured by the play that he decided to make Rope as a single-shot film, perhaps, as a means to sustain the suspense amongst the audience.
Rope is a good example to understand Iravin Nizhal. The latter too, unfolds like a lavish Broadway theatrical production. But the main difference is, in a play, things unfold in real time for an audience. However, in the film format, the camera’s gaze becomes the audience’s. In that sense, Iravin Nizhal is a film that downloads right in front of our eyes just like a play, and the audience’s engagement remains vital. But there is a catch in that too. We miss the most important part of the camera when it takes the audience’s point of view: focus.
Only a handful of filmmakers have dared to make a film look like one continuous shot, given the number of logistical nightmares involved. But even those films were centred around vast spaces or at least had the elbow room for the cameraperson. Every shot in Iravin Nizhal comes with a fresh set of challenges — for the cinematographer, set operators, assistant directors and actors. About the composition of Birdman, its cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki was quoted in The Hollywood Reporter as saying. “We created the transitions by rehearsing; for the more difficult ones, we had to have visual effects.”
Iravin Nizhal doesn’t use visual effects but it does follow a similar approach. Films like Rope, Birdman and 1917 are shot like a continuous film with a series of long shots, stitched together at the editing table. These ‘invisible’ cuts are not noticeable to our naked eyes. But Parthiban employs a new technique to this editing transitions, wherein the camera’s gaze pauses, fixedly at an image for a few seconds giving the actors and set operators a breathing room, to get ready for the next scene, next set piece — all in a matter of a few seconds. Sounds crazy? Ridiculous? There is a catch in that too.
In the same interview, Lubezki talks about the lighting complication they faced. “Lighting Michael at his makeup mirror will create a shadow a minute later if we move around the room. So we had to time all of the lighting changes, making sure you don’t see shadows.” Iravin Nizhal’s set consists of 59 little blocks like a maze. Its frames are crowded with people, props and set pieces that further complicates Arthur Wilson’s job. For, he has to carry the Sony Venice camera on his shoulder for 100 minutes, with so many landmines. Even if one actor goes out of focus or if the camera topples, or if they don’t get the lighting right, it is back to square one. In short, what Parthiban, Wilson and their team have achieved — even if it went for 23 takes — is nothing short of phenomenal. They are sure to wow the National Awards committee.