'The Last Color' is a canvas depicting the colourless lives of the protagonists, presented in a bichrome of white and gulabi (Indian pink/fuschia) — their innocence simplicity and emotions, all pure as white — their dreams, aspirations, emotions coveting to be clad in the gulabi, the bright, bold tone symbolising perhaps, the bold dreams that the meek white and the colourless seek to (and dare to) dream of...embrace against the odds of a set up, a society that has long decided that their likes be devoid of colour.
The film unfolds in flashback and traces the lives of its protagonists — a Hindu widow, a Dalit street urchin, a brutalised eunuch, and a continually berated wife — all walking the tight rope of dereliction, penury, and abuse that society has relegated them to. 'The Last Colour' in its not so subtle depiction of depravity is also a tale of the infant new world enkindling hope in bright "gulabi" hues into the lives long deprived of them.
Chhoti (the nine-year-old Dalit urchin uninhibited and emboldened by life's injustices) and her unlikely friendship with Noor (the gracious, shy, white-clad widow, depicted in all her innocence); Chintu, (Chhoti’s nine-year old best friend, the real 'man', whose dreams circle around sending Chhoti to school; his love so pure, writ large in his eyes, his expression) and Anarkali, (the oft brutalised eunuch with the heart warming motherly endowments on Chhoti) are all endearing beyond description. While all these characters are dissimilar on the surface, they are tied together with a common thread. Their bond emanates a warmth, honesty, and spontaneity that resonate with the viewer. Their affections keep the torch of hope alight in the face of the all-pervasive darkness that threatens to drown them at all times. So does the silent endurance of the wife whose personal hell encourages her to ensure a better future for 'her' daughters and emboldens her reluctance to beget a son for fear of bringing a brute into the world.
The film is essentially a comment on the ancient tradition of abandoning widows in Varanasi to fend for themselves and die, weathered by societal norms and customs. It references the Supreme Court of India’s landmark judgement in August 2012 that sought the rehabilitation and empowerment of Hindu widows, following which they celebrated their first Holi in March 2013. Thus, lending a positivity to the scenario, and a much required iteration to the judgement.
Subtle and soulful, this screen adaptation of Celebrity Chef Vikas Khanna’s novel ‘The Last Color’ (directed by Khanna himself), is an iteration that filmmaking is also about making the canvas look appealing to the eye while bringing home what's not so gentle to the heart and surely is unsettling to the brain. The film is loaded with great optimism; its mellow-starkness vibrating the right chords that culminate in Khanna's beautiful invocation of Tagore’s iconic poem, “Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high…”, as the end credits begin to roll.
Painted thus, at the same time, in bold colours and subtle hues that together uphold the truth about human vices and virtues, in all its might, ‘The Last Color’ has every quality of pure cinema that can endure the test of time. It makes a point quite convincingly that filmmaking is not just about making things big and grand by being presented in all starkness. Khanna treats his protagonists with rare subtlety and sensitivity, lending the feel and flavor of an unrehearsed spontaneity to them. Their heartwarming relationships serve to liberate them from their sorrows yet keep them grounded. He extracts genuine emotions out of the actors, and in turn, of the viewers, emphasizing through it all, the value of life and the preciousness of every breath.
