Some movies knock you out with a punch, others gently lay you down, soothe your fevered brow and lull you into a dream. Movies about Mumbai tend to do the former. But Kiran Rao's deeply personal Dhobi Ghat takes you by the hand, leads you to its doorstep and then leaves you to gawk, with pleasure. At Shai Edulji's (Monica Dogra) unknowingly selfish world, where her little indulgence can be someone else's life-altering experience. At Arun's (Aamir Khan) self-absorbed existence, divided between his art and his brooding. At Yasmin's (Kriti Malhotra) video letters to her brother in Malihabad, full of yearning but edged with sadness.
And of Munna's (Prateik) silent ambition, evident in the glistening worked-upon body he admires in a mirror dotted with Salman Khan cut outs. We know enough from Alejandro Inarritu's works that these separate characters will eventually have overlapping lives, but when they do, it is not with a bang but with the steady shimmer of Mumbai's ever-present rain. Rao's actors are fresh, even Khan, who shocks us mildly by using words like f*** and a******. It's an acutely observed and unhurried film. Munna bathing by the side of the railway tracks under cover of darkness, the colours on Arun's canvas melting into the meat frying in the stalls of Mohammad Ali road, begum Akhtar's voice filling the void of a flat, the domestic's daughter proudly reciting tennyson's brook. Arun's drawing the one he's falling in love with, Shai's photographing the one she's becoming obsessed with. One woman's art is another man's reason for living.
Rao's film is like fresh air, as elusive in Mumbai's leaky chawls as in its smoky drawing rooms.
Inhale. Especially because it talks about the cruelty of Mumbai without raging and ranting against it. There is this calm acceptance that this is what life is. People who are divided from each other by caste, class and education cannot always romantically meet by its sea and expect to see differences dissolve. There will always be one who has come to Mumbai to fill his empty stomach (yahan bahut khaya, thapad bhi and khana bhi) and there will always be one who has come here to search for her soul. There will always be one who wants to do things differently and there will always be another who will not want to do anything fresh. And yes, there will always be one who will be wearing a Doors T-shirt because he knows Jim Morrison is so cool and another who has no clue who he is.
Some directors use sledgehammers to make their point. Others use a scalpel. Well, welcome the scalpel.
Welcome also a unique voice for Mumbai. Its Jaunpuri drivers and NRI wanderers. Its artistic souls and its wannabe actors. Its sometime drug dealers and its eternal slumlords.
Some directors use sledgehammers to make their point. Others use a scalpel. Well, welcome the scalpel.
Welcome also a unique voice for Mumbai. Its Jaunpuri drivers and NRI wanderers. Its artistic souls and its wannabe actors. Its sometime drug dealers and its eternal slumlords.
Rating - 4/5
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Feature,
Movie Review
