THE STORY – Anand, a 30-something city dweller compelled to spend a 10-day mourning period for his father in the rugged countryside of western India, tenderly bonds with a local farmer struggling to stay unmarried. As the mourning ends, forcing his return, Anand must decide the fate of his relationship born under duress.
THE CAST – Bhushaan Manoj, Suraaj Suman & Jayshri Jagtap
THE TEAM – Rohan Parashuram Kanawade (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 112 Minutes
It’s a situation everyone can relate to: a family gathering forces one into uncomfortably close proximity with those that cause friction. It’s a setting that has broad and versatile usage. The awkwardness can birth both eccentric comedy as well as sincere emotional commentary. It’s a powerful situation because the moment forces a confrontation to reveal a deeper meaning within these dynamics. There are no easy escape routes and no break from the onslaught of personalities that bombard you with conflict. At its best, this setting is a perfect exploration of inner turmoil to break free and reveal an impactful catharsis. “Cactus Pears” has its gaze set on this analysis while also examining a culturally specific situation. In doing so, it showcases a tender portrayal of accepting multiple facets that create a singular identity and a meaningful portrait.
From the very moment his father’s death is announced, Anand (Bhushaan Manoj) and his family are quickly brought together to comfort each other while accepting this tragedy. He’s summoned from his isolated life living in the city and travels to the small village where he grew up. It’s a harsh reality he must confront again, having to shield his sexual identity amongst the crowd of potentially hostile rebuke. It’s a difficult process to endure during the ten-day mourning period, which eventually culminates in a ceremonial ritual of high importance in honoring the memory of the deceased. Anand has been given this very important task, and as the responsibilities weigh on him, so does another venture. It’s in this setting that he reconnects with Balya (Suraaj Suman), a childhood friend whom he harbored romantic feelings for long ago. Now in close proximity again, the two reignite their bond, discovering the shared experiences that can potentially bring them closer even as Anand contends with the crippling emotional weight that continually burdens him.
Writer-director Rohan Kanawade may present quiet scenery, but it’s an environment that covers a raging river of temperamental feelings that crash beneath the surface. The initial set-up may seem familiar at face value: a man must hide his sexuality when confronted by his extended conservative family, leading to a recognizable clash of traditional and modern views. However, the storytelling here feels much richer than what would be expected. Anand may not be out to his whole family, but he does have support from his parents, and his mother has not waivered on that front. His brokenness comes from the lack of connection he feels living far away from the people he cares about. Even his previous relationship was shattered after the man he was involved with got married out of societal obligation. Kanawade explores this delicate psyche through intimate moments that allow the idyllic scenery, bathed in warm tones from Vikas Urs’s cinematography, and the sounds of nature to slowly envelope these characters in a rich tapestry of yearning.
It’s when this relationship is showcased as the central focus that this narrative is the most effective. Anand and Balya ease into things slowly at first, being cordial as two individuals who have not spoken in years. Each has a fascination with the other that creates a mutual allure. For Anand, he is mesmerized by a free spirit who can balance a lust for life while also choosing his actions carefully in such a landscape that can stifle self-expression. For Balya, he sees a man who has broken free of constricting trappings and exists in a vast world of independence that he desperately strives for. This attachment is what fuels their courtship to exist in a realm that is beyond simple carnal pleasures. Their eventual sexual encounter is not graphic or sensational. Instead, it revels in the touch, naked bodies physically holding each other just for the warm embrace of another person. That’s the guiding principle of this character study that Kanawade beautifully renders through his sensitive direction.
Where the film occasionally suffers is in the construction of its story, which can often lead to tedium to set in. While there is meant to be a leisurely pace taken through this multiple-day excursion, the presentation is often a jarring experience. The days are all separated by hard cuts to black, which disrupts the natural flow of a scene and jolts one into completely new surroundings without much congruous rhythm from one moment to another. It makes tracking these days a difficult task, ultimately segmenting the narrative into episodic chunks that are harder to weave into a more moving experience. The pacing is deliberate, matching the tranquil tone, but can become monotonous and challenging to tolerate, especially when the elongated finale of the religious ceremony seems more interested in meticulous details than character examination. This is not a pervasive issue, but the momentum slows down enough to disrupt one’s investment in the material.
As the film’s main focus, Manoj delivers a soulful portrayal of a man caught within a web of complicated feelings. This is a character who has to experience both joy and despair in his life, grappling with the heavy loss the passing of his father has created while also connecting with a partner who fulfills him on a deep level that is sorely needed. He finds those moments to present this mixture of feelings that are quite powerful. How he can simply stand outside one of the spiritual temples reveals so much, as it is an act he is forbidden to do during this period. Yet it speaks to the community he is disconnected from. The grief provides a door to unearth his fractured mental state that comes pouring out by the end. It’s an endearing performance matched by his easy chemistry with Suman. There’s a real charm to the character of Balya, boisterous in his actions, that the performance easily captures. Yet, there’s also a vulnerability that lurks within and tries to be contained. When Balya suggests moving in with Anand when he returns to the city, the rejection stings deeply, but a casual smile glances across Suman’s face. It’s a fleeting moment that communicates so much about this man’s earnestness and sensitivity, briefly exposed before being buried again. It’s a nuanced turn that he masterfully delivers, and both performances are engrossing to watch.
The beauty at the heart of “Cactus Pears” is how it deftly traverses the thorny terrain that manifests during times of crisis. The death of loved ones will always be a time of heartache, as the whole left by them can feel like an insurmountable challenge. The conflicts that arise when thrown into uncomfortable surroundings that aim to suppress one’s identity can be suffocating. Still, such interactions can also breathe life into an appreciated kinship, and this process opens a cascading downpour of raw emotions. The subtle yet indelible filmmaking crafts an affectionate atmosphere for characters to examine their place within a wide spectrum of sentiments, offering a challenging but fulfilling conversation on navigating these intensive waters. While it can be subjected to tedium, the engaging aura and captivating performances do more than enough to assemble a heartfelt analysis of love, bereavement, and finding one’s inner truth.
