REVIEW 647: PATAAKHA

Release date:	September 28, 2018
Director:	Vishal Bhardwaj
Cast: Language:	Radhika Madan, Sanya Malhotra, Vijay Raaz, Sunil Grover, Namit Das, Abhishek Duhan, Saanand Verma Hindi

Trust Vishal Bhardwaj to get to the root of India-Pakistan enmity plus crack Bollywood’s star system, both with one stone. His Pataakha (Firecracker) – coming a year after the Kangna Ranaut-Saif Ali Khan-Shahid Kapoor-starrer Rangoon – is a triumph of good acting without a single major star on its roster. Established, respected artistes: yes, in the supporting cast. Newcomers: yes, one of the leading ladies is a big-screen debutant while for the other, this is her second film, the first having been Nitesh Tiwari’s Dangal. Big stars: nyet.

Bhardwaj’s new film is also one of the most hilarious, vivid, electric portrayals of sibling rivalry ever seen on the Hindi film screen.

Pataakha is set in rural Rajasthan where Badki and Chhutki – “children of one mother yet thirsting for each other’s blood” – are constantly at each other’s throats. No particular reason can be pinpointed for this extreme animosity. It just is because they just are.

The two are so abusive and violent towards each other, that it is a wonder they did not finish each other off at birth.

Their widowered father is devoted to them but knows not what to do about their visceral hatred. Bapu (which is what he is called even in the credits – can’t help but grin at the Mahatmafication) earns a modest income from stone quarrying, but is constantly stretched by bribe-seeking government officials. As if that is not stressful enough for the old man, his daughters refuse to be constrained by custom or by his commands.

Based on Rajasthani writer Charan Singh Pathik’s short story, Do Behnein (Two Sisters), Pataakha is not merely a tale of siblings. Just as Hamlet in Kashmir was not about an internecine in-family war, but about Kashmir itself, here in Rajasthan, Badki and Chhutki become a metaphor for two warring neighbours who emerged from the same womb and seem incapable of getting along yet equally incapable of surviving alone. Sound familiar to denizens of the subcontinent?

The film operates at multiple levels. Even without its delicious political impertinence, Pataakha is a hoot. The battles between Badki and Chhutki have a maniacal, frenzied energy that is as heart-stopping as a series of high-adrenaline car chases. The unrelenting slurs the girls throw at each other are never at low volume, and in fact, they are so godawfully loud that if the staid nuns in my mother’s convent school who told her “girls should be seen and not heard” were to meet Badki and Chhutki, they are likely to go into an eternal faint. Except for one particular fight they have in a new home that made me uncomfortable with its decibels and wish for just a few moments of silence, the rest are ridiculously funny for the girls’ combustibility and vocabulary.  

TV’s Radhika Madan plays Badki. Sanya Malhotra, who was the younger Phogat sister in Dangal, is cast as Chhutki. Both personify the firecracker/s of the title. On the face of it, these are easy roles – the two young artistes could have leant entirely on their screaming as crutches. Instead, they ensure that their performances are not reductive nor entirely externalised. The outer trappings are the fun and lively part, but what makes this film an absolute killer is their inner journey, and both of them nail that part.   

Vijay Raaz has often been wonderful in his career, though never more so than when he played the tentwallah P.K. Dubey in Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding (2001) and the diamond thief in the Bollywood film Delhi Belly (2011). He has just as often been repetitive though. Not here. Bapu is a man of grays, swinging between confused liberalism towards his daughters and despotic behaviour. Through all this, but most especially when he resigns himself to his fate, Raaz makes him a loveable, likeable fellow.

The motley crew surrounding the sisters includes curious bystanders, innocent victims, interlocutors, intermediaries, peaceniks and troublemakers. The pick of the lot is the Narad Muni of the story, a fellow nicknamed Dipper played by Sunil Grover who also voices the wry, hysterical narration.

Dipper is part of the problem and also the solution. He gets off on getting the sisters to head for each other’s throats, yet once he puts a matchstick to the tinderbox that is their relationship, he also invests considerable effort in soothing their flared tempers. Grover is clearly having a blast with the role and his enthusiasm is infectious.

The dusty, grimy women look like they have not bathed in the entire first half (although at a literal level we know they do because Chhutki steals Badki’s clothes while she is in the bathroom one day). Even in the second half, when they are scrubbed out somewhat, they never come even close to being the polished, waxed, tweezed, plucked, made up, dolled up, gym toned, designer clothed, assembly-line heroines usually featured in contemporary Bollywood. Their faces mirror the dust-laden appearance of a film in which both sparring parties are ever prepared to get down and dirty with each other on the spur of the moment.

Their enmity seems to have begun before the beginning of time – Pataakha does not care to clarify the origin. This could cause some confusion if you choose to dwell on it, but for me it was a source of fascination for where this narrative could possibly be headed. Once the allegorical nature of the story is gradually unveiled though, it is clear why Bhardwaj did not pinpoint a reason. There is none. Like south Asia’s (arguably) most enduring political rivalry, this one too is unreasoned, unreasonable, and such a matter of habit that at some point it has become intrinsic to the survival of those involved.

Of course that realisation raises this question: is it Vishal Bhardwaj’s contention that peaceful coexistence is impossible, even undesirable, for some? Pataakha leaves it to the audience to figure that one out, even as it sucks us into the whirlpool of its manic imagination.

This is not the first time that Bhardwaj has allowed his mind to run wild in the Indian countryside, unrestrained by form, formulae or any manner of convention, his music as rousing as the tale he tells. He tried something similar in Haryana back in 2013 with Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola, and fell flat on his face. It is a good thing he decided to lift himself up, brush himself off and return with Pataakha. Never before has a film been more appropriately named. What cracking good cinema this is.

Rating (out of five stars): ***1/2

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	136 minutes 11 seconds

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pataakha

REVIEW 641: SUI DHAAGA

Release date:	September 28, 2018
Director:	Sharat Katariya
Cast: Language:	Anushka Sharma, Varun Dhawan, Raghubir Yadav, Namit Das, Yamini Das, Sawan Tank, Manukriti Pahwa Hindi

If you are a halfway decent soul, chances are you are a sucker for the underdog. Sharat Katariya’s Sui  Dhaaga (Needle and Thread) - Made in India is designed to touch that chord in us humans that makes sports fans sometimes cheer for a dark horse even when she is on a rival team or from another nation.

This is the story of Mamta (Anushka Sharma) and Mauji (Varun Dhawan), a young wife and husband belonging to a community of artisans who have over a couple of generations gradually turned their backs on their inherited trade – tailoring, embroidery, block printing and other work involving garments and fabric – since the income from these is barely sufficient for their sustenance. Like Ved in Imtiaz Ali’s Tamasha (2015), though in a contrasting class setting, Mauji is pushed by his father to turn his back on a profession that his heart is set on. Here however, unlike in Ved’s case, the parent’s goal for his child is not wealth but survival even if it means being treated like a chattel by his employer.

Mamta, though, wants more than just money for herself and her husband. She wants self-respect. She also believes that his tailoring skills could translate into a comfortable life for them, if only he would believe in himself.

The film then is about the pair’s joint struggles to become self-sufficient by turning his talent into a profitable venture in the big city and to bring a smile to his well-intentioned but cynical father’s face.

This is director Sharat Katariya’s third film, his first being the well-meant but forgettable 10 ML Love and the second the just-as-unforgettable Dum Laga Ke Haisha, one of 2015’s best from Bollywood. It is hard to miss the thematic sisterhood between Dum Laga Ke Haisha and Sui Dhaaga which is perhaps a reflection of Katariya’s worldview, his desire/willingness to see marriage as a relationship of equals, and his ability to write a strong woman without dipping into Bollywood’s lately developed clichéd interpretation of feminine strength seen most recently in Anurag Kashyap’s Manmarziyaan.

Unlike these stereotypical women, Mamta never shouts and does not abuse – imagine that, Bollywood, this kind of strong woman exists! In fact in some senses she is painfully conventional, seeing the kitchen as her wifely duty and earning money as his. Yet she is unconventional as hell in the way she inspires and encourages him to dream for himself, and even more so when, as life saunters along, she starts dreaming dreams for herself too.

Sui Dhaaga’s Mauji is very different from Dum Laga Ke Haisha’s Prem. Mauji is not dispirited and broken, he is an eternal optimist whose constant refrain even through trying times is “sab badhiya hai” (all is well). If he allows himself to be treated poorly by his boss at first it is because he is misguided into considering that the practical choice to make, not because he lacks a sense of self-worth. Crucially, unlike Prem, Mauji treats his wife with respect right from the start although it takes a while for their relationship to transition from a formal footing to fondness and finally love.

Anushka Sharma gets a rare chance to display her versatility in this film (and to act with a hero who is not old enough to be her Daddy). Her Mamta is a calm, almost sedate woman, a far cry from the bubbly and/or overtly fiery characters that have dominated her career so far. She has been good in all those films, but it is nice to see a director investing his  confidence in her with this vastly different role. She returns the favour with compound interest and a heartwarming performance.

Varun Dhawan is sweet as Mauji. The comic timing that has been his calling card since his debut is well-tapped by Katariya here too, but in a more underplayed fashion than in his blockbuster comedies. Although he does not manage to subordinate his own personality to this role in quite the way he did in Shoojit Sircar’s October earlier this year, Dhawan is still consistently engaging as Mauji.

The supporting cast are all unequivocally excellent.

Katariya’s screenplay is packed with gentle comedy and warmth and many unspoken words. The most telling moment in the film comes in a scene in which Mamta is rushing along behind Mauji, Anil Mehta’s camera staying focused on their feet while she quickly catches up with him and they walk together, side by side. It reminded me of a beloved scene in a beloved film from long ago – the confidence in Arati’s stride in the closing scene of Satyajit Ray’s Mahanagar. Mehta is back at their feet in another scene when he, physically constrained, needs her assistance with the sewing machine.

The  camerawork in Sui Dhaaga is an important contributor to the endearing chemistry between the two characters and the statement about their teamwork that Katariya seeks to make.

If the writing wavers, it is towards the end when the people of Mamta and Mauji’s world are parachuted into a high-society urban crowd. (Possible spoiler alert) Here and here alone, Katariya’s tone falters, and he seems unsure about how to portray the culture shock that basti dwellers would inevitably experience on their first visit to a Page 3 party or the green room at a fashion show. The effort not to be patronising to the ‘little people’ is clearly a strain, and shows up for instance in the possibly unwitting cutesification of a bunch of country bumpkins peeping through a barrier to watch models in various stages of undress.

Besides, would an old, traditional Indian couple suddenly feel comfortable enough to hold hands in public on a stage merely because of the change in environment? And would a woman who is habituated to traditional Indian attire complete with pallu-covered head 24x7 suddenly design a Westernised gown with a dipping neckline for herself? I doubt it.

(Spoiler alert ends)

The final half hour or so of Sui Dhaaga is a departure from the realism of the rest of the film and enters a fantasy realm that commercial Bollywood tends to prefer. it also fails to convincingly capture Mauji and Mamta’s rather dramatic overnight evolution from gifted artisans to sophisticated designers. This portion is what gives the film an uneven feel, but the trip till then is so rewarding, so amusing, so steeped in tenderness, affection for the characters and positivity that it makes the ride with Mamta, Mauji and their charmingly eccentric family and friends completely worth it.

PS: Sui Dhaaga was shown with English subtitles in the Delhi hall where I watched it. This is uncommon for a Hindi film yet an important step towards bringing our cinema to the hearing impaired.

Rating (out of five stars): ***

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	122 minutes 29 seconds

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/sui-dhaaga-movie-review-anushka-sharma-varun-dhawan-are-sweet-in-this-rallying-cry-for-self-sufficiency-and-self-respect-5282661.html

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sui_Dhaaga