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Release
date:
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October 18, 2017
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Director:
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Advait Chandan
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Cast:
Language:
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Zaira Wasim, Meher Vij, Aamir Khan, Raj Arjun, Tirth Sharma, Kabir
Sajid, Mona Ambegaonkar, Cameos: Monali Thakur and Shaan
Hindi
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Secret Superstar is an unconventional Hindi film
in so many ways. It is that rare mainstream, unapologetically commercial
Bollywood venture that places the spotlight firmly on domestic violence. It
stars one of the biggest male stars in the history of Hindi cinema yet he is
not the protagonist, nor does he position his role as a “guest appearance”. And
while the gentleman in question, Aamir Khan, has done this before with Taare Zameen Par in 2007, the fact that
just last year his colleague Shah Rukh Khan did likewise in Dear Zindagi co-starring Alia Bhatt, and
Aamir has made the choice once again with this film, suggests – hopefully –
that we are witnessing a marginal change in the attitudes of our male megastars
who are beginning to understand that the fulcrum of any project must
essentially be its story, not its leading man.
Writer-director Advait Chandan
brings to us 15-year-old Insia Malik, resident of Akota in the Gujarati city of
Vadodara, where she shares a home with her loving mother Najma, her fond brother
and grandmother, and abusive father. Insia is a student of Class X, a singer
and guitarist who has been quietly honing her craft away from her father’s
restrictive, regressive gaze and with her mother’s quiet encouragement. This is
not to say that the Dad, Farookh Malik, is unaware of her interest in music,
but that he considers it just another girlie hobby rather than an all-consuming
passion.
(Possible spoilers ahead)
Those of us fortunate enough to
be born to liberal parents who nurtured our gifts may find it hard to imagine
the claustrophobia and extreme fear that Insia experiences every second that
Farookh is around or how even the air in their house seems to breathe freely
when he is away. Each tiny occurrence within the four walls of that cramped
middle-class home has the potential to cause an explosion: a geyser that Najma
forgot to switch on, less salt in the dal she cooked... Farookh’s response to
any slip-up is to bash up his wife.
As you know from the trailer,
Insia finds in Youtube an avenue to expose the public to her voice, all the
while wearing a burqa to ensure that her father does not find out what she is
up to. She is then sought out by the boorish and successful Bollywood music
director Shakti Kumaarr, who is stagnating professionally when he meets her.
Secret
Superstar tells
the tale of Insia’s view that at the very least, everyone is allowed to dream –
“Sapne dekhna toh basic hota hai. Itna
toh sabko allowed hona chahiye,” she says – and Najma’s journey from
telling her daughter, “Maine kaha thha
mujhse maang, zindagi se nahin” (I had told you to wish for something from
me, not from life) all the way to becoming the girl’s partner in the fulfilment
of those dreams.
Although the physical abuse of
wives and girlfriends is widely prevalent across the world, it is a subject
usually brushed under the carpet. Communities by and large justify it or
pretend it does not happen, and the entertainment media does not often discuss
it. Bollywood has very occasionally acknowledged its existence, with
sensitively handled films such as Agni
Sakshi (1996) and Saat Khoon Maaf (2011), and the terrifying references to marital rape in Titli (2015) and Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013). Secret Superstar
plants the issue unequivocally at the centre of its universe, building up an
atmosphere of such terror around Farookh, that every knock on the door
signalling his return home becomes a moment of dread, a dread so real that it
is almost a separate character in the screenplay.
We must leave it to experts in
the field of domestic violence (DV) to watch Secret Superstar and vouch for its authenticity and technical
correctness. To my inexpert eye, having seen DV up close from my childhood – in
the form of a beloved aunt whose husband beat her up throughout their marriage
and who never left him, not just because she was completely financially
dependent on him, but also because on the couple of occasions when she packed
her bags, she fell for his emotionally blackmailing entreaties – it rang true.
That said, this is not a
self-consciously ‘issue-based’ film of the kind a lesser writer may have
created. While it is transparent in its desire to make a point, it does not rub
its didactic intentions in our faces. It is also unusual in that it often makes
us forget that its main characters are Muslim, which is unlike most commercial
Hindi films featuring minority community members that end up being steeped in
surface markers of the community in question. While Secret Superstar does not shy away from cultural specificities, the
universality of the theme is never lost on the storyteller. With a tweak here
and a touch there, this film could well have been about a Hindu, Christian,
Sikh or Parsi family.
At the end of the day then, Secret Superstar is not merely about an
issue, it is an entertaining, heartwarming saga of people and hope, of two
luminous women who eke smiles and laughter out of their miserable lives, of a
human being who is evil and another who flummoxes those around him with his
unexpected shades of gray, of a child who could turn out either way with one
wrong move from his better parent and of some female bonding.
That female bonding is a joy to
behold because it too is not a common phenomenon in male-obsessed Hindi cinema.
Most films on friendship in Bollywood have revolved around male yaars, from Dosti (1964) and Sholay
(1975) all the way up to this century with the likes of Dil Chahta Hai (2001), Rock
On!! (2008) and Kai Po Che (2013).
Secret Superstar is, in some ways, a
buddy flick. Insia and Najma are friends bound together by their shared pain as
much as they are mother and daughter. And as the film moves along, the cliché
of the eternally warring saas-bahu is
tossed out of the window, as it was in one of the most beautiful scenes – that
one featuring Priyanka Chopra and Tanvi Azmi chatting – in Sanjay LeelaBhansali’s Bajirao Mastani in 2015.
The performances in the film are
led by Meher Vij’s brilliance as Najma. Vij played a small part as Munni’s
mother in Bajrangi Bhaijaan (2015).
She and Zaira Wasim – the lovely debutant from last year’s Dangal, returning to the big screen as Insia – do not falter for a
second. Nor, for that matter, does the casting team which surrounds these two
with a bunch of talented performers. A special mention must go to Raj Arjun
playing Farookh: his is an even-toned performance that does not stray in the
direction of caricature although such a move may have played to the gallery.
Aamir Khan as Shakti Kumaarr is hilarious.
In case you think he’s hamming, you would do well to tour the industry he works
in and meet some of its more pompous, ego-centric denizens who are convinced of
their divinity, refer to themselves in third person in conversation and
generally suck. On the surface, there is nothing subtle about his character,
yet in the seemingly flimsy motivations that prompt him to back Insia to the
hilt, there is a nuance that might possibly be lost on those who know him
because of his largely obnoxious behaviour and self obsession.
One of the nicest things about
this film is that most of Shakti Kumaarr’s story is left untold. Aamir may be
the big star in Secret Superstar’s
credits, but Chandan never once loses sight of the fact that his central
characters are Insia and Najma.
My one concern about the film’s
messaging involves Insia’s doting school friend Chintan. While this is clearly
not Chandan’s goal, there are elements in their relationship graph that could
be construed as pandering to the stereotype that women shamelessly use hapless
men who would go to any lengths for the one they love. This is a fleeting worry
more than a major apprehension though. That said, Secret Superstar could have done without the
girl-finds-boy-irritating-before-they-hook-up triteness of its early portions.
A film about a girl who likes
music, thankfully goes beyond merely packing songs into the narrative. Najma’s
acute observation about Shakti’s songs, for instance, is a reminder of how
artistic works can reveal so much about an artist to knowledgeable consumers
who may not have a clue about the person behind that song, that painting or
that film.
Most of composer Amit Trivedi’s
tracks for Secret Superstar are not
immediately captivating as standalone numbers, but viewed within Insia and
Najma’s life they are perfect. And I do love Nachdi phira, both inside and outside the film.
Kausar Munir’s lyrics for Meri pyaari ammi and Sapna re have a clever everydayness to
them, so that while you listen, you know they were written by a thinking kid
yet you never forget that she is, after all, just a kid. Equally enjoyable is
the deliberately silly mushiness of I’ll
miss you, which reflects Chintan’s thoughts.
Meghna Mishra has been
well-chosen as the playback singer for Insia. She sings with the heart – in
keeping with Insia’s belief about what good singing is – yet does not sound
cultivated, retaining instead raw edges that are so relatable and credible
since she is the voice of a teenaged girl in the film. As it happens, Mishra is
not playing a part. She is herself only 16.
Secret
Superstar ends
with a dedication “To Mothers and Motherhood”, similar to the words flashed on
screen in last year’s Nil Battey Sannata.
It is a maudlin and incongruous romanticisation of maternity in an otherwise
wonderful film. The fact that Najma is selfless cannot and should not be a
comment on mothers at large. Would Chandan ever consider implying that all
fathers are as lousy as Farookh? No? The deification of women has always been
used to conversely demonise those who slip and fall from their pedestal as any
human being would, and has no place in a film as sensible as this one.
Before those words appear on
screen, Secret Superstar rolls out a
rather long climax. I can imagine some people considering the climactic
developments emotionally manipulative. I am merely playing a devil’s advocate
by bringing that up because, frankly, if that is what it is, I am happy to be
manipulated. I left the hall giggling over the closing scene, but the tears had
not dried up from the minutes I spent unashamedly sobbing over the denouement
involving Insia, Najma and Farookh. Yes, some of it is melodramatic, but you
know what? Sometimes, so is life.
I can also imagine some people
being offended by the way Secret
Superstar uses Insia’s burqa as a symbol of oppression. The prevailing mood
of Islamophobia worldwide has caused well-intentioned feminists to mindlessly
defend aspects of Islamic culture that do not deserve to be defended, going to
the extent of calling the burqa a matter of “choice”. Chandan is therefore
brave not to prevaricate over this point. And right. The veiling of women in
every culture is rooted in the belief that the onus is on us to guard men from
their actions when they see female beauty. Except where veils are worn as
protection from the elements, let us be clear that even if a woman genuinely
does have the freedom to choose, that ‘choice’ arises either from centuries of
deeply ingrained social conditioning or a willingness to subordinate our
freedoms to what is seen as a larger cause, such as the desire to snub
Islamophobes by “reclaiming our culture” as many liberal Muslim women in the
West say they are doing. The anger in the latter sentiment is understandable,
but please let that not stop us from calling a spade a spade because of current
norms of political correctness.
Advait Chandan’s film is a
thoroughly rewarding cinematic experience, sweet and thought-provoking in equal
measure. It is simple, but not simplistic (barring the ease with which a non-entity
like Insia becomes high-profile almost overnight on the worldwide web, and the
fact that she appears to escape Internet trolls who in reality would viciously
attack such a kid because of her gender and her Muslim identity). Aamir’s
presence has given it pre-release visibility, but what gives it staying power
through its running time is the strength of its storytelling and conviction.
And a happy Diwali to you too, Team Secret
Superstar.
Rating
(out of five stars): ***1/2
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CBFC Rating (India):
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UA
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Running time:
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150 minutes
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This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
