Pagglait, 2021, Netflix - Movie Review

The days of looking forward to watching the latest in a movie hall increasingly feel like a distant memory. Was that a dream? Or is this now, one?

Call me old school, but watching the new Friday release on TV is not the same experience. 

Call me an optimist, because I am still waiting to go back to the theatres to watch cinema the way it is meant to be.

In the meantime, we settle into our rooms and catch the latest in our shorts and pyjamas. 

We’ve been bowled over for a while now, by the ability of the new crop of TV series on various OTT platforms to tell unique, bold, meaningful stories. Stories we’ve not seen before. Imagination we’ve not been exposed to. Visualisation we’ve not experienced. Be it international content or Indian. 

What is new and great to see (maybe the glass half-full of our year in lockdown?) is how mainstream cinema (aka Bollywood) is going down the same path. In many ways, it’s the perfect meeting of cinema with OTT, that liberates moviemakers from the shackles of ‘perceived commercial success’ to tell stories in the way they would like to. This bout of creative exploration - both quantity of it (so many films like these) and quality of it - is really very very welcome.

#Pagglait being the new kid on the block, in this world of "OTT Cinema" (that is, ironically, anything but OTT!)

And director-writer Umesh Bist puts out a good fare.

Pagglait is the story of a newly married-and-widowed young woman, Sandhya (Sanya Malhotra) who, through the course of the 13 days of death ceremony rituals and family chaos and politics, eventually finds herself. It’s a simple story, but told with a lot of heart, that strikes a chord with the viewer.

The strength of the film comes from the building of its characters and their relationships with each other. It’s not a linear story of one protagonist and her relations with all the other characters. But a story where the other characters have clear emotions between themselves as well, that run independently of the main story of the protagonist. This is the real beauty of the film. We see all these different people in the extended family and see their perspectives and their stories too. While the main story runs with Sandhya, we equally enjoy the story of the others in the family. 

Shivendra (Ashutosh Rana), as the dead son’s father and Usha (Sheeba Chaddha) as the mother, simultaneously trying to grieve their sudden loss while managing the home affairs of ceremonies and guests is heart-wrenching. We can feel what they are going through, even as they are not able to admit their own feelings to each other, while trying to face this ultimate truth of life (which, ironically, is death). Tayyaji (Raghubir Yadav), as the super-traditional almost-cold-hearted master of all ceremonies fiercely protecting the interest of family and customs, at the cost of anything and everything. Alok (Chetan Sharma), as the younger brother, reluctantly doing the ceremonies as the next of kin, while secretly nurturing a crush on his widowed bhabhi. Nazia (Shruti Sharma), as Sandhya’s best friend, tolerating the borderline religious discrimination of the household while still fiercely loyal to Sandhya and her family. Then an ensemble of relatives, including Sandhya’s parents, various chachas and buas, neighbours and friends, each with their own parallel stories, that make the film feel real and human. Even Aakanksha (Sayani Gupta) as the ex-girlfriend of the deceased, playing an important role in Sandhya’s journey, brings as much to the protagonist as much as telling her own back-story, in just a few scenes. And of course Sandhya’s own story of coming to grip with the sudden start and end of a 5-month marriage, trying to understand the situation by understanding her husband who she knew only for a short while. And through it all understanding her own self.

If telling these multiple parallel stories into one story, is the strength of the film, not sticking to it till the end is probably the main fault of the film. As the film comes closer to the end, we see the richness of these multiple narratives fading away, and all merging into once again the trap of the "only thing that matters is the heroine's story". It felt like Umesh Bist got tired of trying to keep up with his own vision and decided to simplify it into the only resolution that was easy. 

In many ways, Sandhya’s journey is reminiscent of Rani’s journey in Queen (2014), where after being rudely dumped on her wedding day, she goes through the journey of finding herself and her life. Pagglait is an equally beautiful journey. Whereas Rani took a journey outside across Paris and Amsterdam to find her inner self, Sandhya takes the journey inside within the walls of her home and the streets of her city. But while Rani’s journey was always a solo one, Sandhya’s journey is a collective one, which includes the members of her family. And this is the part that Pagglait misses in resolving for us. This is the part that leaves us a little un-fulfilled as we pick the remote and exit from the Netflix app (as opposed to walking out of the theatre).

But, in the larger scheme of things, it’s a small fault to place with the film. And overall the film stays with you as one of the better movies we’ve seen recently. The performance of the cast is excellent. Even Sanya Malhotra is not as irritating as her other previous (and recent films) and delivers an understated, manageable performance.

All in all, a great start from Umesh Bist, who seems a promising new director, with a really good first (almost) film of significance. Umesh, hope you keep at telling these stories and fine-tuning your craft to keep getting better and giving us more of these human stories. It reminded me of another gifted director, Imtiaz Ali (for a very different genre of course) and his first (almost) film Jab We Met, which we loved but felt something missing. And how he later went on to perfect his craft with his subsequent films. May you find and complete your craft as well, Umesh. We will be looking forward to your next one.

Wonder Woman 1984 - Film Review

 

Torn between “How to waste a great franchise” and “Yet-another-movie-sequel-gone-wrong”, I walked out feeling disappointed from the one and only (and therefore much awaited) superhero movie of 2020. 

But, then what was I expecting? It is (was!) 2020, after all. 

It’s not like the rest of the year lived up to our expectations! 

Why put this burden of hope from a movie, right?

Wrong!

That’s exactly why!

A superhero movie coming at the end of a year like this carries a huge responsibility, whether the movie likes it or not.

To give us hope of the victory of good over evil. To entertain and make us feel good. To make us believe in the impossible and bedazzle us with the possibilities of human imagination.

Unfortunately, #WonderWoman1984 fails at all of the above. 

It fails at giving us a clear narrative of good over evil, because of its convoluted (though well-intentioned) plot of fighting the evil within ourselves, of our own selfish desires. We get the point the film was trying to make in a difficult year like 2020, where we have realised that the real evil in the world IS mankind and it’s insatiable greed. Greed, that has created a dystopian world, including zoonotic disease like COVID-19. But, it is done in a very complex and unconvincing manner that leaves us a bit cold and disconnected. And yes, #WW84  wordplay (wonder woman or 'world war' is not lost on us. Clever, but uninspiring!)

Equally importantly, every superhero film imagines the evil embodied in a villain. For example, Thanos in the Avengers is a great example of the Malthusian correction of human’s ever-expanding and devastating footprint in the world. 

But in imagining the evil of human desire in the form of a villain, Maxwell Lord, who grants any wish (but taking something in return), the storyline fails to make an engaging villain and therefore misses an engrossing good-over-evil narrative entirely.

The film also fails at entertaining and leaving us with feel-good moments, that we all desperately needed this year. Apart from the opening flashback sequence of Wonder Woman as a child fighting in the Amazonian competition, we miss the good-old-fashioned superhero ass-kicking action. There is too much talking, un-impressive special effects, not enough dishoom-dishoom, and an attempt at emotional storytelling that falls flat. As a result, we neither see the action we want nor the emotions. 

There is a lot of time spent in establishing new characters like Barbara (played by Christen Wiig, seen before in many films including the last Ghostbuster all-women film),  Maxwell Lord (of popular TV fame in Game of Thrones and Narcos), and the re-incarnation of Steve Trevor (Wonder Woman’s love, played again by Chris Pine, whom the lockdown clearly has not treated well), all of whom are narrow, superficial, stereotyped, caricaturist and unrelatable, and distract from an already confused and weak story-telling. Gal Gadot still shines and brings the frames alive with her presence (in fact, literally at the end with her new golden armour suit), but is not enough to save the film.

The film also fails at bedazzling us with impossible imagination. There is nothing new here to see. Set in 1984 (what’s with Hollywood’s obsession with the 80s!), we see the sites and sounds of an 80s America, that we’ve seen so many times before that it has lost any kind of nostalgia or flashback value. If we want to see the 80s done well, we have Stranger Things on Netflix, thank you very much. There is nothing new in the stunts or the superpowers from Wonder Woman. In fact, after facing villains of gigantic powers in the first WW movie, and in Justice League, the nemesis here feel so small and petty, that it takes away all joy one feels in a movie like this. The scene where she is being all-heroic catching some petty thieves in a mall, with her lasso and super leaps, just makes us want to cry. Is this what Wonder Woman has come to?

And finally, and perhaps most importantly, Wonder Woman 1984 fails at doing the one thing that it was most applauded for in the first film in 2017. The first real only-woman superhero movie of our generation. The same director Patty Jenkins, had a vision, which made its mark with the previous film. The idea of “Because only a woman can save a world destroyed by man” was both timely and impactful. See my short review at https://books-booze-boxoffice.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-mans-world-has-not-delivered.html But this idea is missing entirely in this sequel, despite the potential with two supposedly strong female characters. Barbara's reason to turn evil is that she wants attention and that too in a high-school sorority way! Depressing!

Alas, it saddens me to say that there was neither enough ‘wonder’ nor enough ‘woman’ in this sequel-gone-wrong that has wasted a great franchise.

If you’re planning to get back to the theatre (again?), I suggest watching Tenet a second time. It’s both essential and much more rewarding!

Happy New Year Everyone. To 2021 and beyond!

Rebecca, 2020, Netflix - Film Review

I distinctly remember ‘experiencing’ the iconic novel, Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier, for the first time, roughly about 25 years ago in college. Those were different days. Being a Delhi University student, and with access to British Council Library, at Kasturba Gandhi Marg in CP,  meant access to a much larger world than the everyday life we lived in. In those days before the Internet, and with limited funds, these almost-free-libraries were our most precious teleporting devices. Stepping into these sacred spaces was like space and time travel to any part of the world, at any time in the world. Reading Rebecca, was one such ‘experience’ for me, with space travel to England (which I had never been to till then) and time travel to the late 1930s (again, never been to!).

Not seeing the many movies made on this book since then, watching the latest 2020 version on Netflix, directed by Ben Wheatley, I couldn’t help being both excited at the idea of watching this book come alive all these years later, and being equally disappointed at the lack of experience the film creates. The experience, which was such an important part of the book. When a book from 1938 can create a more visceral sensorial experience than a 2020 film with all its tech and resources, it gives me two conflicting emotions. One, of despair - have we lost our ability to bring out a vision to life through story-telling that can move people to feel something? And one, of hope - we still have so much of shallow, meaningless story-telling in the world, that the really good ones can still stand out and make a difference. 

To be fair, the #RebeccaNetflix starts with a lot of promise. It has a good set of actors, with Lily James as the young and insecure Mrs de Winters, Armie Hammer as the suave-but-silent Maxim de Winter, Kristin Scott Thomas as the stern and disapproving matron, Mrs Danvers. Their characters are built well, the moments in South of France that create the circumstances for their wedding are portrayed beautifully, and the drama that is yet-to-unfold at Manderley is full of ominous promise. But alas, that’s where it ends. 

Once the new couple moves to Manderley, the film starts falling apart, just as much as Mrs de Winters herself does. The magic of the story that Daphne Du Maurier wrote was not in the events that happen, but in the psychological impact they have on a new bride from the working-class, who has suddenly found herself the lady of this lavish estate. Her overwhelmed state is only made worse by the looming shadow of the larger-than-life omnipresence of her predecessor, the earlier Mrs de Winters, the irresistible and famous, Rebecca. And by the passive-aggressive manipulation by the house matron, Mrs Danvers, a Rebecca loyalist. 

In the book, the real story happens in Mrs de Winter’s mind, but the film trivialises the internal suffering of the lead character and instead chooses to focus on the externalities of the different incidents that happen, making it about good guys and bad guys and the fights and the arguments. Not once, do we see what the protagonist is really feeling herself. She is reduced to someone who is being victimised by others, as she desperately tries to hold on to the love of her husband. The film makes it a black and white story, with no room for nuances or any shades. It’s a bluntly told story, where Mrs Danvers has to spell everything out in clear words about who Rebecca was, why she loved her, and what happened to her. No room for imagination in this story-telling. 

Apart from messing up the essence of the original story, the other fault I would lay on the film is a lack of vision. Any old book or movie that is made into a film in contemporary times, needs a vision. Hell, even Thanos, in Avengers, had a Malthusian vision! 

What is this 2020 telling of a classic meant to do? Is it about evoking nostalgia for a by-gone pre-war era? Is it a neo-feminist point of view in support of Rebecca? Is it championing the cause of inclusion and social mobility of the working class? Having a vision could explain (or excuse) a lot of the divergences that the film takes from the original book. But, without that, the film is doomed to just be a cinematic version of the book. And if that is the case, stick to the vision of the original, please. 

In many ways, you could say that Rebecca 2020 is more 2020 than Rebecca. It’s made for an audience that wants the answer in one google search, that wants the entire story in 15 or 60-second Tik-Tok or FB or Insta video, that wants the entire analysis in one 140 character tweet (oh wait, it’s a lot more now, whole 280 characters, sorry my bad). Clearly, not the audience that is reading this review (thank you, dear reader, for spending more than 1 minute on reading this). 

For that, it’s not a bad movie. It gives a quick whistle-stop tour of the world that Daphne Du Maurier created. In under 2 hours, you get the most important sites and milestones of the fictional Manderley, (most likely in Cornwall, South England) - the key characters, tick; the key locations, tick; the mystery, tick. If you’re into the 14-day package tour of whole Europe, kind of thing, then Rebecca 2020 is right up your alley. 

But, if you look for stories that transport you to another world, stories that give you emotions you may not be in touch with, stories that make you think thoughts that may not have occurred to you, stories that give you an experience, not just a mind-distraction, stories that make you smile, or cry, or ponder or get depressed, stories that make you feel something like a living breathing person, then I’d recommend forget the movie, stick to the book. 

After 82 years, it will still be worth your while. 

It’s not like you’re travelling to England any time soon, are you!

Book Review: Momspeak, Pooja Pande

Growing up in a home, where my sister and me, were raised as equals by our parents, I always took the notion of what I now know as ‘gender equality’ for granted. I could cook breakfast for both of us, when Maa was not at home, what’s the big deal. It was only as I interacted with the world as an adult, that I realised how special the parenting we had received was. How blessed had we been to have been given these values through the 70s and the 80s, which even today (in the next millennial!) are a fundamental struggle.

It is this value system that is taken forward, and expressed completely and evocatively, by my sister, author, Pooja, in her latest book, Momspeak. #proud

As soon as the book starts with asserting “How divinity and damnation are both rolled up into one, in the figure of a mother”, we are hooked onto a journey of discovery into the mind and the life of a mother.  Pooja does this by reflecting on the experiences of her own life, with astute observations of her feelings and of those around her. But equally importantly, she chronicles the emotional journeys of a diverse set of mothers that she has met, to weave a comprehensive narrative of motherhood, that is simultaneously thought-provoking and empathetic. 

Pooja’s writing has a flavour of activism, yet is grounded in compassion. It is both personal yet objective. 

Even as the book is deeply emotional, it maintains a rational argument that is extremely convincing. 

The book quotes scholars, writers, science, research, and at the same time references movies, TV, music and other pop culture. 

It is a contemporary book with a modern outlook that treats the reader like an adult. It’s not a self-help book. It raises questions and moves you to seek your own answers. 

With #Momspeak, Pooja achieves an extraordinary feat of having written a unique book, that speaks to both the head and the heart. 

Of course, it’s a must-read for mothers - who have been, who are and who are to be. For mothers, the book is a soul-mirror that allows you to see it like it is, say it like it is. It’s not good, it’s not bad. It just is. It’s cathartic and it’s real. 

It’s what every mother goes through, but is often not seen. And as the book argues, is deliberately not seen by a society that is deeply patriarchal. It’s not stuff that movies are made out of, but it’s the stuff that lives are made out of. 

It’s the beauty of the everyday. It’s the tragedy of the everyday. It’s the life we live. And that’s why it’s important.

But, more than that it is an important book that must be read by everyone, for the sake of the world we live in. 

Because at the heart of it, it’s about being a woman in an unequal world. 

It, purposefully, raises questions on social mores we take for granted or laugh away. 

It, angrily, forces you to sit back and question your own behaviour, making you ask yourself ‘have I ever willingly or unwillingly encouraged this inequality’ or worse, been blind to it. 

And most of all, it, openly, invites you into being part of this movement of building a gender-neutral world.

However, above all, it’s a book that while, on the face of it, champions feminism, as the final (and my favourite chapter) “Frenemies Forever: Feminism and Motherhood” lands beautifully - if there is any ‘ism we all should be a part of it is ‘humanism’. 

Because after all, that’s what being a mother is all about, isn’t it? 

Creating a life and then building a sustainable world that allows that life to thrive in. 

It is only by challenging existing notions and structures that prevent us from being human to each other, can we create a future that we can all call our family.

As a parent to a teenage boy, this book once again reminded me of my immensely challenging but equally rewarding responsibility. 

Of raising him to not subscribe to the unequal world he lives in, to not be restricted by gender norms that will be thrust upon him, to swim against the patriarchy blackhole that he may get sucked into as a boy, to not subscribe to the hate and the biases fed to him on social media, and to trust his inner humanist values. 

This book gives me the optimism to make this a reality. 

We need it in the world, now more than ever. 

If ‘motherhood is an emotion’, as the book suggests, then I feel happy and secure in saying that I am a mother.

Succession: TV Show Review: Hotstar/HBO

#Succession, Seasons 1 and 2. Streaming on Hotstar

What makes your everyday binge-watch worthy series?
(and lets keep Game of Thrones epic ones out of this)

A never-seen-before idea that gets you hooked from the first episode, like say Black Mirror, or Dexter

A thrilling plot with edge-of-the-seat twists and turns, that keeps you hanging for more, like say Money Heist or Sacred Games

A classic or twisted superhero tale (this always works) like Dare Devil or Jessica Jones

A good old fashioned spook and scare, mixed with innocence and nostalgia, like say Stranger Things or Typewriter

A near-biographical story, especially mixed with crime and/or espionage, like Narcos or Family Man

Succession is none of these.

Yet it’s binge-watch worthy and how!

And that’s perhaps what’s special about this show.

The plot revolves around the business family (the Logans) that run a multi-billion dollar global media and entertainment family-run conglomerate. The patriarch CEO (Logan Roy, played by Brian Cox) after his 80th birthday and a health set-back is forced to consider succession planning. There's only one problem. This is completely against his own desire for retaining control of the company that he has built from scratch. After all, no one can do a better job than him! This is set against varying capabilities and desires of his four children, in taking the top job. Add to that the politics between the leadership team, the intertwining of personal and business interests, the extended interest of the extended family members, and formidable adversaries wanting to take down the company - all of it under the dominating hierarchy and the insatiable ambition of the one man that matters, Logan Roy. 

But the real addiction of the show is not the plot. It’s the characters that are built slowly over the different episodes. These are not stereotypical characters that get set in the first episode, after which the story moves on. The character building goes hand in hand with the story. In fact, the more the story moves forward, the more the characters themselves do. Till you get to the point that you almost care less about the upcoming take-over battle, and are more interested in finding out what he or she will do in this situation. These are not black and white characters. These are just people who have different sides. They have their flaws, but they have their strengths as well. You see them for who they are. You may love some things about them and hate other things about them. But you will never box them into one type. This is the world of adults, and you see a range of them pitted against each other in this captivating series.

And among the characters, the centre-pieces are, undeniably, the Roy children. The children who, raised by an omnipresent and overpowering father, are torn between their love for their father, their hate for their father and their own personal ambitions. Kendal Roy (played superbly by Jeremy Strong), the older brother, who is probably the obvious choice of being the next CEO, except his past life and his insecurities, further exacerbated by his father’s disapproval, make for a heady concoction that constantly sets him up for failure. Shioban Roy, or Shiv (played by Sarah Snook), the confident and competent only daughter, who has built a successful career outside of the family business, but yet can’t seem to stay away from it, and more importantly from her father, who she hates to love and loves to hate. Roman Roy (played by Kieran Culkin), the bratty youngest son, a juvenile-at-heart, wanting to play the adult-game, possibly only to get his father’s attention and approval. Connor Roy (played by Alan Ruck), the oldest son, who has chosen the alternative path of the non-capitalist farm life, yet can’t seem to get away from the small little thing he constantly desires - the good life. 

The other family members of Marcia Roy (Logan’s current and second wife), Tom Wambsgans (Shiv's fiancé), Greg Hirsch (the not-as-dumb-as-he-looks cousin), Willa (Connor’s girlfriend), and a cast of non-family members - the leadership team of Gerri, Frank, Karl, Laird, Carolina, and others, give a good mix of great dialogues, bad histories, and good chemistry.

All in all, Succession is an unlikely candidate for an engaging TV show, and that’s exactly why you should watch it.

Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan - Film Review

#ShubhMangalZyadaSaavdhan

If you’re looking for a one-line summary, it will be that mainstream Hindi cinema still has a long way to go in telling meaningful stories around homosexuality. Exactly one year after the first big mainstream attempt, Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (see my review http://books-booze-boxoffice.blogspot.com/2019/02/ek-ladki-ko-dekha-toh-aisa-laga-film.html ), not much has changed. The only saving grace in Shubh Mangal is that the lead gay characters in this movie are played by better actors (Ayushman Khurrana and Jitendra Kumar), than the film last year (Sonam Kapoor).

The movie is a coming home story of a gay couple (Kartik, Ayushman and Aman, Jitendra) and the journey they take in gaining acceptance in a regular conservative middle-class family from Allahabad. When Kartik joins Aman on a family wedding trip, the truth about their relationship is revealed. All hell breaks loose and from then on it’s a series of a few dramatic and many melodramatic incidents between multiple characters in the family, that invariable leads to a fait accompli happy ending. 

Just like Ek Ladki.. in 2019, we have to applaud the attempt of Shubh Mangal. It’s good to see mainstream Hindi cinema taking up the cause of changing social norms and behaviours towards building a more progressive and inclusive society. We can also appreciate the fact that without the Bollywood over-the-top drama, the message may not get across to a wider audience. And in delivering the message, the film succeeds. The film clearly makes the point (in so many words) in what it’s trying to say. 

But, that’s perhaps the problem with the film as well. It ends up being a 2-hour activist speech delivered mostly by Ayushman to Jitendra’s father, as the main representative of the conservative mindset. 

And in that, the film misses a crucial ingredient to a good film. A story. We miss a coherent, engaging plot. The film feels like just different (almost disconnected) events that are strung together into kind of a narrative, to make an overall point. 

Yet, that is not why the film completely fails. We have seen Ayushman’s previous films not having a strong storyline and still being absolutely brilliant (See my reviews of Badhaai Ho, http://books-booze-boxoffice.blogspot.com/2018/10/badhaai-ho-film-review.html and Dream Girl http://books-booze-boxoffice.blogspot.com/2019/09/dream-girl-film-review.html). What was missing in the storyline was made up by other elements of the film. In Badhai Ho, it was the central idea which was hilarious enough to hold the entire film. And in Dream Girl, it was the priceless dialogues delivered by different characters, one after the other. Shubh Mangal tries to do both but fails. It has a message, but not a central idea, and it’s not a new message. It has funny one-liners through the film, but they are not enough.

But, where really Shubh Mangal fails spectacularly is the missed opportunity in the characters that it has developed in the family. While we have some really good actors (the entire star cast of Badhai Ho and some new ones) with very interestingly carved characters, they are wasted, in becoming either senders or receivers of the main message, instead of playing characters with their own narratives and emotions. What a missed opportunity in not exploring the emotional turmoil that the father Shankar Tripathi (Gajraj Rao) has through the entire film of dealing with the fact that his son is gay. What a missed opportunity in not giving the mother, Sunaina Tripathi (Neena Gupta) her own point of view on the whole situation to add flavour to the conversations. What a missed opportunity in not giving more story to Goggles (Maanvi Gagroo), as the too-old-to-get-married cousin that is a force of nature. What a missed opportunity in not making chacha Chaman Tripathi (Manu Rishi) a potential foil to his older brother. 

And most of all, what a missed opportunity in not even bringing to life more nuance and texture in the relationship between the two lead characters, beyond the fact that they are gay and in love! Who were Kartik and Aman as people? Is being gay their only identity? And fighting for their acceptance their only life?

Just because it’s a comedy, does not mean that the film has to be devoid of any real feelings in the characters. 

Alas, what a miss!

I suppose not every writer can be a director. Hitesh Kewalya, a successful writer in the industry, delivers an overall weak film. What Raaj Shaandilya (also a successful writer in the industry)  was able to pull off with Dream Girl, through sheer wit and humour of his writing, Hitesh is not able to. Even with the same lead actor. Because not every time can just clever dialogues save a film.

Also, I suppose not everything that  Ayushman touches is gold after all! 

The Sky Is Pink - Film Review

After a deeply impactful Margarita with a Straw in 2015, comes another emotional ride from Shonali Bose, that tells the true story of the Chaudhary family, and how they strive for life despite their daughter’s illness, right from the time she was born, and even before that. 

Born with a rare genetic disorder that threatens her survival as a baby, Aisha Chaudhary narrates the tale of her short but full life. Of how her parents’ love for each other and their sheer will to fight for her life, becomes a life long mission, that simultaneously makes their family and breaks them.

This is the story of Aditi Chaudhary (Priyanka Chopra) and her single minded devotion to the only cause that matters, that of keeping her daughter alive. The daughter, that is both her strength and her weakness. 

This is the story of Niren Chaudhary (Farhan Akhtar) and his whole-hearted love for his wife and family, and how he is willing to do what it takes for them, even at the cost of his own identity. 

The film is a tear jerker with a light touch, that makes your heart weep for the real Chaudhary family and everything they have been through. It makes you want to reach out to them, hug them, pray for them, applaud them and tell them that they are not alone and that we are all with them.

And that is perhaps what Shonali is trying to do with this film. Just the same as it was in her previous film. In that sense, Shonali is not a story teller as much as she is an activist. Her film is just a means for her to achieve her mission - mission to make an impact, to make us feel what we otherwise wouldn’t feel in our selfish everyday existence, to move us from our static lives, to build empathy. That’s what she’s after, and that’s what she achieves.

And that also becomes the flaw in the film. It makes an impact yes, but is not an engaging story telling. You feel bad for the characters, but you don’t feel what they feel. You watch them but you are always the outsider. You always know it’s someone else’s story. You are always kept at a distance from the characters, and the film somehow doesn’t let you in. And even though you have shed a few tears through the 160 odd minutes, you feel strangely cold to the whole experience. 

May be its to do with the actors, or the way the story is told. But may be it’s because it feels like a Hindi film that is thought through in English! 

In any case, If you liked Margarita with a Straw, you will like this one too. Watch it to go through the lives of what the chaudhari’s went through.. to build perspective on how privileged lives we all live.. ...to build empathy towards those who perhaps don’t have as fortunate lives as us.. to contribute and participate in Shonali Bose’s mission.