Jugnuma (The Fable)

As any film critic these days will tell you, the word ‘Lynchian’ gets thrown around a lot in reviews. The slightest bit of surrealism in a scene is described as something emulating the work of the man behind masterpieces like Blue Velvet (1986) and Lost Highway (1997). I’m guilty of it too. So much so that the descriptor has lost some of its gravitas over the years. Most things that don’t seem logically coherent are touted as Lynchian. However, ambiguity is not a stand-in for true enigma, nor does density always equal profundity. Sometimes, a scene can play straight like a musical note, evoking something visceral in the audience – leaving no room to question its logic. It’s this feeling of discovery through a film that counts for more than ‘understanding’ it. In its duration of a shade under two hours, Raam Reddy’s Jugnuma – The Fable might be the closest an Indian film has come to emulating David Lynch’s genre-breaking style. I’m not saying the film derives it from the existing style, as much as Reddy embraces it and makes it his own. Having made his debut with the fantastic Thithi (2015), the 36-year-old filmmaker might not even have been conscious of it.

Life is real, life is magical. And when a movie brings these two elements of reality and fantasy together, which doesn’t happen too often in the Indian film industry, the result can be a thing of beauty, a joy to behold. As it is with director Raam Reddy, of National Award-winning film ‘Thithi’ fame, whose Hindi feature ‘Jugnuma: The Fable’ literally grows on you and glows like fireflies. The title itself tells you that the subject at hand is surreal. The very first scene, in which we see Manoj Bajpayee flying with a wing-like contraption, tells you that nothing is what it seems. There is a fable at play which comes rather innocuously in the narrative. Set in the 1980s in Himalayan mountains, shot close to the Indo-Nepal border, the pace is as idyllic as the setting. Bajpayee as Dev is the owner of vast orchards, which he has inherited down the family line from his ancestors, who served the British masters. Deepak Dobriyal, whom we are so used to seeing in comic parts, has an equally significant and sombre part. He is not only the manager of the estate but also the commentator letting us into the twists and turns, the inner crevices of the story. Not that this is a whodunit mystery that makes you sit on tenterhooks. If you have seen the trailer, you know fires will soon engulf this beautiful orchard.

The opening scene, filmed in a single continuous shot, establishes the atmosphere for a film aptly named Jugnuma – The Fable. We observe the main character, Dev (Manoj Bajpayee), as he washes his face, prepares himself, dons his wings, and leaps off a ramp from a mountain, just like that. This film by Raam Reddy, who previously entertained us aplenty with Tithi (2015), encompasses a bit of everything.

Cinema, in its kaleidoscopic array of expressions, occasionally offers us stories of rare splendour—narratives that shimmer with originality, thematic boldness, and imaginative audacity. While not all Indian films aspire to transcend conventional storytelling, every so often emerges a cinematic gem that dares to diverge. Jugnuma, directed by Raam Reddy and released this week, is precisely such a departure—a masterstroke of magical realism, a genre seldom explored within the realms of Hindi cinema. Set against the resplendent backdrop of spring in 1989, Jugnuma unfolds in an isolated colonial mansion perched precariously atop a Himalayan cliff. Here resides Dev (essayed with quiet intensity by Manoj Bajpayee), alongside his wife Nandini (Priyanka Bose), daughter Vanya (Hiral Sidhu), and son Juju (Awaan PoKoot). Revered by the surrounding villagers, Dev is a benevolent landowner who generates employment through his vast and flourishing orchards. Yet, this pastoral idyll is soon shattered when he discovers a patch of mysteriously charred trees. What begins as a small anomaly gradually spirals into a series of inexplicable conflagrations, each one more disturbing than the last.

Coming at a time when the debate about the original inhabitant and the migrant/trespasser is raging across the world, young filmmaker Raam Reddy mounts a fable that fascinates with its subversive tone and veritable voice. The atmospheric visuals and magic realism remind one of Marquez and Manoj Night Shyamalan, but Raam sets up his own leela in the hills of the Himalayas. In Jugnuma, Dev (Manoj Bajpayee) lords over the orchards that once belonged to the British masters. He has inherited the colonial privilege that he delegates to the locals to nurture his sprawling estate. Mundane meets the magical, as Raam opens a window to the Dev’s introspective nature. Suggesting the misplaced pride of being self-made, the genial master makes his own wings and glides over the hills to keep a check on the locals who work on his estate, look for possible trespassers, and perhaps test his boundaries.

Jugnuma (The Fable) begins with a startling unbroken shot in which a seemingly ordinary morning turns extraordinary. Within a few minutes, writer and director Raam Reddy establishes the contours of this world and primes us to expect enchantment and mystery. The story is set in the spring of 1989 on a vast estate in the Himalayas. Men tend to beautiful, bountiful fruit orchards which spread over three mountains. But underneath the mundane – the owner Dev (played by Manoj Bajpayee) and his family, his manager Mohan (played by Deepak Dobriyal), the workers spraying pesticides to make the yield better – is a beguiling and wondrous world of fireflies, nomads who don’t speak but who exert some sort of benign power and a fable about fairies who live on earth because they don’t realise that this isn’t really their home.

The real and the magical collide pretty early in Jugnuma. Translating roughly to ‘firefly’ (jugnu) ’tale’ (nama), the sophomore directorial of National Award-winning filmmaker Raam Reddy is distinguished by a surreal yet warm moodiness. It commences with a single continuous shot. One that defines the rest of this film which is quite unlike anything the Indian space has seen. Dev (Manoj Bajpayee) walks out of his British-styled bungalow that breaks through the mist-capped hills somewhere in the northern part of the country. The camera feverishly follows his back as he makes his way to the outhouse in front, nodding a greeting to those who come within his eye view. Once inside the outhouse, he carefully slips on what look like a pair of giant feathered wings, walks out to the edge of a wooden board jutting out of a cliff and jumps off it. A few seconds later, we see Dev’s silhouette, the wings attached to his back, gloriously ‘flying’ around. It is a beginning that immediately arrests attention, making you want to know more, even as you are entranced by the mesmerising and mellifluous atmospherics of the film.