At the outset, I must clarify that ‘My Brother…Nikhil’ is not an entertainer in the true sense of the word. Nor is it a conventional tear-jerker. It’s about heroes among us, the villains in each of us, and the dignity that we all crave for yet take for granted in others.

Set in Goa, and spanning the ‘80s and early ‘90s, ‘My Brother…Nikhil’ is about the world around Nikhil Kapoor (Sanjay Suri), a state-level swimming champion. He has a doting father, Navin Kapoor (Victor Banerjee) whose own unfulfilled dreams of being a sportsperson, manifest into his high expectations of his son. Navin Kapoor finds his wife Anita Rosario Kapoor (Lilette Dubey) extremely soft on Nikhil, and often accuses her of mollycoddling him. Nikhil’s sister, Anamika nickamed Anu (Juhi Chawla) is his closest friend and confidante. She strikes a fine balance between indulging him and giving him his space.

Add to this, Nikhil’s friend, Nigel D’Costa (Purab Kohli), his swimming competitor, Kelly (Shayan Munshi) and Kelly’s girlfriend, Catherine (Peeya Rai Choudhary). There’s also a possible girlfriend for Nikhil, in the form of Leena Gomes (Dipannita Sharma).

This seemingly perfect world goes into smithereens when Nikhil is told he is HIV+, a term that nobody fully understood, back in the ‘80s. And this ignorance leads to much mistreatment of Nikhil, and those around him, as also BY those around him. Nikhil is shocked by his parents’ unexpected reaction, and leaves home. He is soon arrested and housed in a sanatorium lacking even the most basic of facilities. It’s his sister, Anu who stands by him through all this, along with her boyfriend, Sam (Gautam Kapoor), a lawyer, Anjali (Shweta Kawaatra) and Nigel.

While the narrative follows the rampage of the disease through the body of a champion swimmer, it also portrays Nikhil’s fears and his unease at being helpless and dependent. There is also a marked departure from the stereotypical Bollywood depiction of homosexuality and the related sequences are handled in a refreshingly sensitive manner, on the emotional plane.

Comparisons with Revathy’s ‘Phir Milenge’ are unavoidable as both films deal with HIV + protagonists. However, Phir Milenge had at the heart of it, a courtroom battle on the protagonist’s right to work, while ‘My brother…Nikhil’ is about the protagonist’s right to dignity. There’s not one courtroom scene in the latter, despite the presence of a lawyer’s character.

This movie is clearly, a showcase for Sanjay Suri’s talents. He rides the transformation well, from the lithe, fun-loving youngster, to the gaunt, agonized patient. Juhi Chawla provides the spark in the story, and barring a few cloying moments, she plays her character well as a happy-go-lucky person, who comes into her own as a rock-solid presence in Nikhil’s life. Lilette Dubey and Victor Banerjee assay their roles with easy grace and great dignity. Purab Kohli’s prowess comes to the fore in his restrained portrayal of Nigel. Gautam Kapoor performs adequately in a role with little expectations of him.

This low budget directorial debut of Onir, economises on the music (Viveck Philip), with just one excellent song, ‘Chandni Muskuraye…’ with three versions placed appropriately throughout the movie. The singers are KK, Sunidhi Chauhan and Shaan, with the Sunidhi version coming out a notch better in its rendition. ‘My brother…Nikhil’ does a lot for basic awareness on AIDS. But ultimately, it’s an intimate, introspective tale of relationships that weather emotional crises. 

At the outset, let’s set the record straight on what Raincoat is NOT.

As is apparent, there are no muscle-flexing heroes and demure heroines. There are also, no dangerous liaisons, no gun-toting villain and no item numbers. Not even one lusty exhalation. So, a lot of people are likely to be sorely disappointed and are better off missing the movie entirely.

Ash in a de-glamourised get up, is a topic that’s been done to death. Believe you me, that is not reason enough to watch this movie – it’s something you’ll outgrow within the first half-hour into the movie.

At its most basic level, Raincoat is slow & sensitive. If you must, watch it for Mannu, Neeru and the ambience of a rainy afternoon.

Mannu (Ajay Devgan), travels from Bhagalpur to Calcutta to get seed capital from his friends, for a business he wishes to begin. Right through the movie, Mannu’s character is devoid of bravado, but is self-assured in his own way, with just that hint of naivete. He stays with one of his friends (Sammeer), whose wife (Mouli Ganguly), is empathetic to Mannu’s predicament and is intuitive about his feelings for an old love, Neeru, whom he wishes to drop in on while in Calcutta. Six years ago, circumstances had pulled Mannu and Neeru apart, with Neeru marrying a person of her parents’ choice.

The movie is centered on Mannu’s visit, on a rainy afternoon, to the house where lackadaisical Neeru (Aishwarya Rai) lives, in South Calcutta. Through the short flashbacks, we are let in on their relationship, the contrast between who she was and who she has become. The Neeru that Mannu loved, was a sprightly lass with a tad of mischief in her. The Neeru he sees now, has aged prematurely, with dark circles under her eyes and is completely oblivious of her appearance. There is an aura of hopelessness that seems to hang over her, despite her assurances of being happily married. Aishwarya Rai deserves appreciation in the way she has subtly used body language and mannerisms to transform herself into Neeru. Ajay Devgan is at times the helpless failure, complete with stoop and sometimes, in front of Ash’s character, he does an excellent make-believe of the now-successful man she lost out on.

There is no rekindling of romance between Mannu and Neeru. But there’s a refreshing innocence in their relationship with both characters building a house of cards with regard to their respective lives. It takes a visitor (Annu Kapoor), with his revelations, to upturn it. And in the midst of all this, the said raincoat plays a small but pivotal role.

Sammeer is adequate in his role of Mannu’s friend. Mouli Ganguly lends subtlety to her role as his wife. Surekha Sikri, as Mannu’s mother, has a very short but adequate role. Annu Kapoor brings a certain zest to the otherwise dank atmosphere.

As for music, there are no sequences dedicated to song, only snatches that waft in and out of the scenes, like the varying intensity of the monsoon. It’s interesting to see how the music has been incorporated in the scenes, without drowning out the dialogues. Shubha Mudgal gently sets the mood with soulful rendition of songs written by Rituparno Ghosh and set to tune by Debojyoti Misra.

The narrative is sedate, reminiscent of Bengali cinema of the Ray genre, but it’s really fine even if you haven’t seen Bengali cinema before. There’s no major twist in the end, and halfway through the movie, many will guess the short story that inspired this movie. But hang on, and watch it. It’s not every day that we watch a truly inspired movie, sans the double apostrophes.

Raincoat is like a monsoon raaga, replete with tender longing, yet righteously understated in its treatment.

TRIVIA: Rituparno Ghosh made his first movie at the age of 23, and his first full length feature film, Unishe April, won many awards. More recently, he directed the much-acclaimed Chokher Bali. What’s interesting is that Raincoat is his first movie in Hindi, and he has managed to create an interest in Bengali Cinema by capturing its pace and ambience.

(edited version published on January 1, 2005 in Madras Plus, the city features supplement of The Economic Times, Chennai)