Thithi (2016) Movie Review: A Poignant Tale of Life, Detachment, and Rural Realism

Once, Satyajit Ray’s widely regarded masterpiece “Pather Panchali” met the criticism of ‘Selling Poverty’ to urban audiences. Quite a handful of Indians criticized it citing it depicts the poor class of India to cater to the sentimentalism of Western audiences. Even Francois Truffaut wasn’t a taker of neo­realism of peasants. However, when the rich were depicted on screen, full of arrogance and debauchery, there was hardly any uproar.

In this context, the popular television series “Game of Thrones” had a thought through one of its characters which says that the only reason the poor repel us is that show us who we truly are without all earthly attachments, tangible and intangible. Raam Reddy’s “Thithi” gives us a character that symbolizes the detachment I am talking about. First let’s see, what the film is about. ‘Thithi’ is a Kannada word that refers to the ritual that is performed after the death of a person, post-cremation. ‘Century’ Gowda, named understandably for the 100 years he lived, dies and leaves his descendants in quite a fix.

Gadappa, the eldest son of Century, is one aimless cloud, drifting hither and thither. It is his aloofness towards anything materialistic, which provides the poignancy in the film. Thamanna, on the other hand, is in complete contrast with his father Gadappa. He’s the representative of the common people that could be seen in any rural part of India. Thamanna is pragmatic in his approach to making ends meet. He figures that selling the acres of land, that had previously been a property of Century, would vastly improve his and his family’s financial position.

Thamanna’s adolescent son, Abhi, helps his father in organizing his great­ grandfather’s ‘Thithi,’ the ceremony to which the whole village would be invited. Alongside, he has his own shenanigans to do. Through the eyes of these characters, we get a slice of life that is soaked with a purity that is stripped of any facade. But, it is not merely a ‘slice of life’ film, which in itself is a major feat to pull through. The dichotomy between the traits of Gadappa and his son is the vision that drives the film, and Kudos to director Raam Reddy for showcasing that.

Gadappa, in one particular scene, says “What is meant to happen, happens. No one has control over it. So. It’s better to be just happy,” which by no means, is an easy task. His aloofness towards anything mundane is thus a result of his embracing reality and accepting his own place in that. This realization is channeled through Gadappa throughout the film, till the final scene. This is the essence of “Thithi.” Another praiseworthy aspect of the writing is that it perfectly captures all the idiosyncrasies and eccentricities that are an integral part of village life. The tone of the film is quite balanced by that.

Like the film I mentioned at the very beginning of this review, “Pather Panchali,” the cast of this film is also largely comprised of essentially non­actors; and these non­actors bind the film together. Channegowda and Thammegowda deliver outstanding performances as the two protagonists, Gadappa and Thamanna, and bring depth and authenticity to their roles. Cinematographer Doron Tempert deserves praise for beautifully capturing the village’s earthy essence, perfectly harmonizing with the film’s tone. “Thithi” is a remarkable piece of cinema and part of a breed of regional Indian films that are rich in soul and quality, unlike most of their counterparts in Bollywood.