Conversations in Habeebi are so naturally captured in the language and customs, that even the most mundane interactions feel organic to the movie. This attention to detail is a fitting example of what Meera Kathiravan does throughout the film – she isn’t concerned with spectacle, but with authenticity. In times where many dramas rely on dramatic twists and heightened emotions, Habeebi takes the more subdued path, narrating lives of individuals in a Muslim community through moments of love, separation, marriage, hardship and loss. It has its drawbacks. Some pacing is slow, a couple of emotional moments are repeated and a couple of transitions are not smooth. However, the shortcomings of the movie do not detract from the truthfulness of the film. The most powerful experience was the sense that these were not actors in a play, but real people, revealing parts of their lives to us.
Habeebi is about individuals of a Muslim community, their lives from birth to death and between. The story focuses in particular on long-distance relationships, in which the emotional burden of being separated and the difficulties of years on year living apart from family members are explored. It also deals with traditional occupations, altered life styles, nonconforming marriage, and the different challenges that arise in a compact community. The film doesn’t just highlight one incident, but a series of experiences that collectively reveal a picture of life that is “few days in the life of”.
The one thing that caught my eye was the film’s authenticity. No pretentiousness or contrived construction. Looking at it, I truly felt like I was welcome to join a Muslim home, to see the daily life and its rhythms. The movie doesn’t look at you like an outsider. Instead, it seems very much a part of the communities it depicts. That authenticity is its greatest strength, and was something I appreciated throughout the run.
The detailing is particularly good. The setting is clearly the Tirunelveli area and the cultural particulars are there in every scene. The language, lifestyle, family life, relationships, rituals, customs and interactions with everyday life are well observed. I felt like I was sitting down with my old grandmother and hearing her stories, stories of joy, pain, memories, and wisdom throughout her life. It is rare for a film to evoke such a personal experience, and Habeebi has succeeded in doing that.
In essence it is a drama, and many of the narrative techniques used are commonplace. What it does stand out is the way it tells the story all from the point of view of its Muslim characters. There have been movies with Muslim characters, however, it is unusual to see a movie so engrossed in the world of Muslims and their lives. Meera Kathiravan is well deserving of giving that perspective a voice, and she did it with sincerity and care.
The performances make a real contribution to the effectiveness of the film. Never acted as if we had actors playing. Rather it was as if I had a chance to watch real people living their lives. All actors perform well within their allotted roles and in a natural manner. I really liked the two actors – one who played the younger brother of Kasthuri Raja and the actor who played the wife. They did a great job that I felt like it was easy and believable. Meanwhile, all of the family dynamics were believable, and the interactions between family members were fascinating.
Sam C.S.’s music fits in perfectly with the story. Background music is measured and supportive, but not intrusive. One of the songs in the film was a Sufi song which stuck with me even after I saw the movie. The music helps to bring the story to life, and to give a warm feel to a few key scenes.
Some of the best themes in the film are the emotional stresses of long-distance relationships. This struck me because this is not something that I don’t encounter in real life. Many families are separated for years because work requires them to work away from home, and the absence has a profound emotional impact on these families. Habeebi does a good job of representing that reality. The emotions portrayed in the film can be understood by viewers who are not part of the community the film portrays, due to the universal experiences that were portrayed.
I also liked that the movie didn’t place itself solely in the service of a specific community. It is open to all to view and participate in the concepts. The movie does not demonize anybody or tries to cause any kind of unnecessary conflict. Instead, it focuses on common human experiences and calls to mind the emotional connections between people from diverse backgrounds.
However, I had a few concerns. The editing sometimes came across as choppy, especially with regards to continuity. Some scenes jump from one to another making for a slightly jarring experience. I sometimes saw a lack of connecting shots, which impacted on the flow of the tale.
At times there was too much drama too. Hardship is a necessity for the story, but some scenes were more like a TV serial than film. Also, the movie had its share of familiar circumstances. I’ve seen things like that happen in real life and other movies, making it less novel for me. The film does not explore the social and emotional impacts of this lifestyle in a comprehensive way, but rather highlights select moments from this lifestyle. I felt like it could have been more comprehensive and more wide-ranging.
The emotional set pieces are good and, in places, heart-wrenching. There are instances that can move your tears to your eyes. A few times though there is a repetition, for the same emotional beats are repeated throughout the film. The second half, especially, is too long and a tighter pace would have enhanced the impact overall.
I still think Habeebi is worth a watch, in spite of these deficiencies. It’s authentic, rooted, culturally rich and humane, which is a movie that leaves an impression. It doesn’t break new narrative ground, but it manages to give a good impression of lives that are seldom documented in such depth and compassion.
Rating: 3/5
Read the Review of Sing Geetham, where every saying becomes song mysteriously.
