The Udupi based group Punaha's production of YOGI MATTU BHOGI is a remarkable experience. Director Mahesh Dattani's free adaption of the Sanskrit play Bhagvadujjakam lifts farce to the level of the art form that it should be. The adaptation deals both overtly and covertly with gender. Using the dance form, particularly the vigorous traditionally masculine Yakshagana from coastal Karnataka, without the binary of gender is fascinating. More so as the theme remains traditional and the situation absurd. The plot revolving around a celestial mix-up compounded by a holy man's experiment leads to an exchange of souls, a transmigration. The resultant mayhem is a comedy of errors, a hilarious gender bender. All this is layered by serious philosophical issues. While the body is shackled by name and form, is the soul gender neutral?
Farce, or prahasana, as a medium allows for the imagination to overwhelm rationality, and the director leverages it fully. Guruji Sanjeeva Suvarna's Yakshagana choreography blends harmoniously with the Kannada translation by Visvajith Madhavamurthy. The cultural connect between the language and region of the dance form, as well as the skill of the translator, results in a seamless whole. It makes one wonder if it could be replicated in another language, though Dattani is convinced it can be performed as effectively in Hindi or English. The music by Amit.P and the musical composition by Pornima Bhojraj is excellent.
Abhinav Grover as the guru constantly and mechanically extols knowledge and renunciation. Shravan Baliga as the young pupil is continually hungry and distracted. Both use body language with ease and smoothness to create a comic effect even as the discourse questions accepted tenets and methods.
The use of the human body as sets is marked by a perfect synchronization between stillness and movement. All the women characters use defiance in body language and dialogue even as they move gracefully, without undermining their femininity. The man-woman relationships emerge as infatuations, physical attractions or the lust of older persons.
Yama, played forcefully by Sudhanva Kalkura, and Yamdoot, characterized with stunning impact by Pallavi Kodagu, take the performance to a different level. The choreography makes the whole setting surreal. The black snake form, the ambiguity of its gender, and the spirited fight against the snake by the women as the sets come alive, is enthralling.
The thought-provoking exchange of crisp dialogue moves effectively between slapstick and fluid facial movements. Abhinav Grover's brilliant performance when he takes the form of the lovelorn woman comes as naturally as his observations on desire, transience and consciousness as the elderly guru.
The play's humanism is presented through the shortcomings of all its characters. The materialistic father does love his daughter and the husband is an equally loveable tippler.
The play, opening with a dispute between the nati and the stage manager on the authorship of the play sets the tone for the commentary on gender bias. The novel invocation with the Ganapathi throwing a tantrum brings in a Brechtian ethos.
Punaha brings together the obvious talent at its disposal to create a play that is innovative, entertaining and thought provoking. Mahesh Dattani continues to be the sensitive and brilliant director we know.
Jamuna Rao is a Bangalore-based writer and publisher.
