Aamir Khan Productions’ Dhobi Ghat had a strange effect on the audience in the theatre where I watched it in the third week of its release (very late, I admit). No one moved as the end credits started and went on rolling. Someone even said, as the lights came on, that you never know with this kind of film if there is more to it. Silly comment, great film.
In the normal course, my rating for Dhobi Ghat should have come at the end of this review. But what the heck. I give Kiran Rao’s directorial debut a 9 on 10. If you also love movies outside the strict potboiler bracket, then GO WATCH or you are missing something.
What do I say, where do I begin about a film that’s so beautifully structured. I would dearly like to ask Kiran Rao how long she took with the script. For, it has been written with care. And has she never made a movie before Dhobi Ghat? I find that hard to believe. Where does such self-assuredness come from in a first film?
The movie, however, begins in a very arty way, reminiscent of the European classic school of filmmaking. There are at the beginning shades of the New Wave of Indian cinema too. Your antenna springs up, waiting for that slip that will inevitably rip the façade off the charade. But the slip never comes.
Instead, Dhobi Ghat moves from strength to strength, with a striking blend of four main characters and two stories, one of which is told through digicam recordings. Mumbai, as Kiran has said in the media, is the fifth character. Maximum City has never quite been seen like this. A smoky, hulking mass in the twilight; a gridlock of new constructions, shanties and ramshackle buildings, and the parade of old Bollywood regulars – Marine Drive, Gateway of India and Juhu beach. The Mumbai rain too becomes a recurring atmospheric element in the film, which is apparently a new feature for a Bollywood film if you discount the rain songs and the Mumbai floods-based ‘Tum Mile’. (Not to forget, this Mumbai movie is also a welcome break from Bollywood’s recent Delhi fixation)
If Kiran’s filmmaking flair may be attributed, selfishly and somewhat parochially, to her Calcutta upbringing, then there is a true-blue Calcuttan whose camera skills bring Mumbai alive in Dhobi Ghat. Tushar Kanti Ray’s camera-work, mostly handheld, gives the movie its slightly edgy, documentary feel, which appears annoying at first but gradually steadies into a comfortable, unnoticeable rhythm.
None of this really comes together without the unobtrusive but quietly captivating background score by Argentine composer Gustavo Santaolalla. His music effortlessly strings together the different strands of the movie into a composite whole. Santaolalla was a stranger for me before I watched Dhobi Ghat. Then I found he is twice an Oscar and Bafta winner, and was nominated for the Golden Globe.
The casting is so good, it’s half the job done. Kiran did say somewhere that she never intended to cast Aamir. It’s true any other competent actor, suited to the character of artist Arun, could have filled in. Aamir, one of the finest actors of the Hindi film industry today, doesn’t really have much to do (like he did in a 'Rang De Basanti') but he is the quiet anchor in the narrative. So, casting a 24-karat star actor is a masterstroke by Kiran. But nowhere does Aamir come across as the star he is; he simply blends into the film’s beautiful tapestry.
Monica Dogra (of the band Shaa’ir+func) is so apt in the New York-based banker’s role that she hardly ever puts a foot wrong in her entire screen time. It’s difficult to believe she is facing the big-screen camera for the first time. For many, Monica might be a popular singer first. But for me, she will remain Shai, the cosmopolitan Parsi girl whose journey through Mumbai makes up the core of the film.
Prateik’s turn as Munna, the migrant Bihari dhobi, is not an easy act to judge. This is a young actor who is evidently still feeling his way through Bollywood. He has a pleasant screen presence and, given his acting lineage, promises to be a good actor. But somewhere, somehow, the feel of Munna is not right. Is it Prateik’s natural urbanity, his hunky good looks, his costumes or his non-stereotypical Bihari migrant act… I don’t know. This is not to say Prateik will not one day be a terrific actor and star. His potential is certainly yet to be tapped.
But the actor who, for me, is the best thing about Dhobi Ghat is Kriti Malhotra. The movie begins with her voice-over; we see her first some way into the film and then she never leaves your mind. I don’t remember her as an MTV Roadie and good luck I never watched this reality TV show back in 2003. Kriti’s sheer sincerity of performance as a young, simple Malihabad (UP) wife who is lonely and lost in big, bad Mumbai is striking. What’s interesting is that she is a character in a ‘movie’ within the movie. As Yasmin Noor, Kriti has left an indelible mark.
There are moments that are deeply moving and gripping as the film approaches its climax (Yasmin’s fate, in particular, is poignant). The rising expectations of the denouement in one’s heart are palpable. Rarely has a Bollywood film’s climax managed to rouse a mix of emotions and anxiety.
But the question is: Is this really a Bollywood film? No, it’s not. Because Dhobi Ghat has been made despite Bollywood. And because it’s only around 90 minutes long and that too without an interval or lip-synched songs. Aamir has gone on record, saying it’s not your regular Hindi film and not made for the usual Bollywood film lover. But its claim to Bollywood fame is its makers, Kiran Rao, a product of the Hindi film industry, and Aamir. There won’t likely be another Dhobi Ghat or anything similar from any other Bollywood denizen.
And precisely for that reason, film lovers should not miss Dhobi Ghat. It’s good to have only fruits and fruit juices or water on occasions while skipping the rice-roti lunch and dinner. Dhobi Ghat is fruit, good for the film buff’s cinematic health that is abused by Bollywood junk food.
Don’t miss.
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