Release date: July 31, 2020 (on Netflix)
Director: Honey Trehan
Cast: Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Radhika Apte, Padmavati
Rao, Shivani Raghuvanshi, Nishant Dahiya, Ila
Arun, Shreedhar Dubey, Aditya Srivastava, Riya Shukla, Shweta
Tripathi, Swanand Kirkire, Tigmanshu Dhulia
Language: Hindi
Sometimes a film has
the power to grip you from the very second it takes off. Honey Trehan’s Raat
Akeli Hai (RAH) does that, grabbing attention with a vice-like hold
from the moment it opens with a chilling murder on a deserted
highway in the inky blackness of the night.
Fast forward to
five years later, and there is another murder: a rich old man is found
shot and with his face bashed up on his wedding night. Inspector Jatil Yadav is
called in to investigate (yes, Jatil, not Jatin – there is an amusing
story there).
The elderly victim
had money and a wealth of people around him. Yadav realises within minutes of being
inserted into their lives that no one is above suspicion: not the dead man’s
pregnant daughter, not his drug-taking son or the son-in-law whose sole concern
is his claim to the family fortune. Then there is the victim’s enigmatic sister
and niece, an arrogant nephew, the young bride herself and the domestic help
who seems to know more than she lets on.
While sifting through
clues and possible motivations, Yadav, who is edging towards middle age, must
also deal with his pesky albeit well-meaning mother’s marriage goals for
him.
Trehan has so far
been known as one of Bollywood’s top casting directors. The meticulousness with
which he and his colleague Taran Bajaj have picked actors for even minuscule
roles in RAH explains his
reputation for excellence in that department. The confidence with which he has
helmed this film belies the reality that it marks his directorial debut.
Every frame of RAH, every technical aspect, has been handled
with extreme care. The film plays out mostly in darkness. Open spaces late at
night where fires are replicated by the reflective surfaces on which they fall
and the red-tinted low-lit interiors of homes elegantly captured by DoP Pankaj
Kumar set up, heighten and sustain the sense of intrigue and suspense in the
narrative. It can be safely concluded that Kumar has superhuman abilities since
his repertoire ranges from the visual philosophy of Ship of Theseus to the atmospherics of RAH.
The writing by Smita
Singh (who has been credited with the story, screenplay and dialogues)
pays heed to even the minutiae in the life and demeanour of each character. RAH is an effective
crime thriller, but goes well beyond that to also serve as a running commentary
on state politics and the sociology of small-town north India.
The most visceral
statement emanating from Singh’s story is about the way society punishes women
victims of sexual abuse, irrespective of class, and views them with suspicion
while covering up the sins of their male predators. She also finds space for
colourism, a telling reference to the double standards inherent in Hindutva
politics, and a spectrum of hypocrisy where a target of prejudice may very well
turn out to be prejudiced in their own way – like the man who is rejected by a
woman because he is too dark-skinned for her taste, who in turn says her attire
indicates that she is not as “susheel” (good, modest) as he would like
his wife to be.
“Susheel” is
translated as “virginal” in the subtitles, which is an interesting interpretation
of the Hindi word. It is a measure of the importance Raat Akeli Hai gives
to detail that the subs have been done by no less a personage than Abhishek
Chaubey (director of Dedh Ishqiya and Udta Punjab, and one of this
film’s producers) along with Utsav Maitra.
Despite the large ensemble
of characters, Singh and Trehan make each one distinctive.
Nawazuddin Siddiqui
as Jatil Yadav switches with characteristic ease from hard-as-nails policeman
to a softer version of himself.
Radhika Apte as the
much-hated bride, Radha, embodies an oppressed yet defiant, despairing yet still
spirited woman wronged.
Each actor stands out
in their own right, though I must say it was a pleasure to see Riya Shukla –
who earlier played Swara Bhasker’s acid-tongued daughter in Nil Battey Sannata – here playing a
significant part as the terrified household help.
In his role as
a senior policeman, Tigmanshu Dhulia’s natural timing seems particularly
well-suited to the local flavour of the dialogues.
Shreedhar Dubey
makes himself likeable as Yadav’s gossipy deputy who personifies casual
misogyny with his assumptions about who done it – a reminder that patriarchy is
perpetuated not necessarily by men with horns on their heads but by the ‘nice
guys’ too.
And Ila Arun is
utterly loveable as Yadav’s mother. I melted into a puddle as I heard her explain
what his father meant to her.
In the midst of so
much that is good, two points about RAH are a cause for concern. Firstly, the relationship Yadav
tries to build with a woman in the film is exploitative because of the unequal
power equation between them, far worse than perhaps even a doctor wooing a
patient or a lawyer wooing a client because when he first makes an aggressive overture
towards her, he is in a position to destroy her completely. This is not to say
that no man would make such a move in real life, but that this particular man’s
behaviour here seems inconsistent with his characterisation until then and thereafter,
and that the script does not bat an eyelid in the matter, which becomes
noteworthy considering the progressiveness of the rest of the writing.
The finale gets
stretched for over 20 minutes after the big reveal, partly due to the Agatha
Christie-style gathering of all the players in a single room for the detective
to say his piece (which is sweet) and partly due to a needless bow to the
conventional definition of happily-ever-after. The closing scene feels odd not
just because it is unnecessary but also because of the lack of chemistry
between the two actors and characters involved. By this time though, RAH had me completely engrossed and in a
forgiving mood.
It helps that the
film closes right then with one of the mood songs Sneha Khanwalkar has created
for it. Khanwalkar’s soundtrack and Karan Kulkarni’s background score
play a crucial role in RAH’s pensive tone.
Raat Akeli Hai (The Night Is Alone / Lonely /
Solitary) marks the advent on the Hindi film scene of a bold new voice. Here is
some breaking news of the happy variety: director Honey Trehan has
arrived.
Rating: 3.5 (out of 5 stars)
Running time: 150 minutes
Photo courtesy: IMDB
