THE DISCIPLE: FILM REVIEW
If there’s one word for how Chaitanya Tamhane’s The Disciple feels, it’s existential. And although for many, the premise of its plot will not be entirely relatable, the crisis of its protagonist will, as the film begs the question: how much of one’s happiness can be sacrificed in pursuit of a dream — one that might never even be realized?
Tamhane’s The Disciple revolves around a Mumbai-based musician named Sharad (Aditya Modak), whose life revolves around becoming a master Indian classical music vocalist. He has all the tools and grit to succeed. Sharad is relentlessly persistent with his practices and grew up with extensive teachings about music from his father, who failed in his own pursuit to become a professional musician.
Even when Shahrad is not actively singing, he’s listening to the greats. During the day, Shahrad archives old music in a dark and depressing room, and while traversing around the city on his motorcycle, he listens to tape recordings of advice from a master named Maai. Shahrad even has the wisdom from a respected mentor named Guruji (Arun Dravid), who he also takes care of by guiding him through his ailments and sometimes his medical bills. Their relationship extends beyond student and teacher, and Shahrad clutches onto it for dear life. Yet, despite all the right structures being in place, it’s obvious that Shahrad is mediocre at best. The audience knows it, and when the camera pans to the fragile, validation-seeking expression on Shahrad’s face after a performance, there’s no doubt that Shahrad knows it too.
Tamhane’s filming of The Disciple intentionally treads the lines between disillusion and reality, and Modak’s brilliant performance effortlessly convinces the audience of his character’s desperation. There are multiple concert scenes throughout the film, and they become increasingly difficult to watch as the camera captures the audience’s unimpressed expressions, and the audio captures Shahrad’s terse and poorly-controlled voice. Even when Shahrad peruses the streets at night, he seems wandering — looking for peace in all the wrong places.
As someone who is also pursuing an artistic medium that only rewards its very best, watching The Disciple was akin to sitting through a drawn-out horror movie. For the majority of the film’s two-hour run time, I wanted to look away from a story that emulates one of my biggest fears — ironically, not failure, but foolish mediocrity. Though, failure is not entirely something to be afraid of; in fact, putting yourself in positions where you can fail is what makes meaningful passions worth pursuing. But, to stare down a version of success that will always divert its gaze is an unsettling form of dishonesty, and in The Disciple, it’s Shahrad that must unfold his own self-reckoning before the strength of its grip is too tight to let go of.
It’s surprising that there are not more films like The Disciple. Although the film is a bit reminiscent of the Coen brothers’ Inside Lewis Davis, Shahrad’s journey is even more devastating. Perhaps stories like The Disciple rarely make it onto the big screen because the potential for disappointment in our realities is already too great. But, when films like The Disciple do succeed, they sting like an open wound and bravely endure.