Laaga yashraj par ek aur daag!. Review on Laaga Chunari Mein Daag

The opening austere shots of Benares draw a parallel between the sacred and the voice that in a while we will soon get to identify as Rani Mukerji's.This segues into a Bubblier than bubbly, pseudo saccharine, trying too hard to be cute 'hum to aise hai bhaiya'(penned by Swanand Kirkire whose attempt at Gulzar like poetry in prose is a poor one )This sequence is sufficient to sum up my impression of Laaga Chunari Mein Daag.The entire song sequence is framed by craneshot after craneshot as Rani and Konkona jump through the lanes of Benares trying to manipulate us to think of them as 'two cute young girls'--but this is as phony as it gets and as slavish as it gets.Besides the parallel drawn in the scene before becomes almost such a heavy burden for Pradeep Sarkar that he never tries to do away with it.

Pradeep Sarkar makes for a shockingly bad second time director making the most elementary of errors-Logical gaffes, continuity slip ups, ostentatious visual strategy, character slip-ups, people contradicting their own words in the same scene--these are the last things you come to expect from the ad man turned director who previously directed the somewhat over-rated but exquisitely crafted Parineeta.Almost every scene in the first 40-45 minutes degenerates into a complete farce.Moreover people are presented as either black or white--the film is scared of exploring the greyness it casts upon certain characters.Even though Rani Mukerji fills almost every frame of the film her performance hardly registers.Its hard to blame her really when she is directed in such a manner that perfectly poignant moments involving her are reduced to maudlin.We see her laughing, crying, sacrificing, crying, getting molested, crying, getting exploited, crying..but we hardly get to know her.We accompany her on her journey as she loses her innocence and subsequently regain it, but we hardly care for her, because the film at no point decides to let us enter her mind.The psychological, emotional wear and tear is not even touched upon.All we are asked to buy is that she is sacred, oh sorry, Sacred.

There is a statement on the 'modern Indian woman' and 'the sacrificing Indian woman' waiting to be made here as the film imagines an 'other' India of small towns and small town aspirations and of the collision that sometimes comes about when one world encroaches on the other. It is a study of how alienating bourgeois codes might be to the self-aware, it is also a reflection on how the 'mediatized' global might create the illusion of sameness and 'nearness' among different societal segments and obfuscate entirely the deep divides. This film is not just an essay in individuality or feminism (though it is certainly both, half hearted as it maybe) but also a sharp critique of bourgeois mores and an equally acerbic one of an urban upwardly mobile India that would shut its eyes to any and everything not consonant with its world-view. One of the most interesting characters in the film is the mother (over)played by Jaya Bachchan who goes through enormous grief upon learning that her daughter has been somehow pushed into making this sort of choice because of pressures exerted by the family but who is also willing to along with it beyond a certain point, not by reveling in the economic advantages offered by such a 'deal' but by making a miserable compromise with her lot in life. Similarly her husband, Kher(hamming it up), who is unaware of this development till the very end nevertheless castigates himself when the truth is revealed for having been an irresponsible, self-pitying husband and father, and not doing enough to alleviate the family troubles and in fact also calls his wife (in another significant moment) the 'mother' and 'father' of the family. There have been comparable moments earlier in the film when Kher rues not having a 'son' and Rani Mukerjee feels the responsibility to become such a 'son'.

The critique though is never fully realized instead we go through romantic detours of Natasha and Shubhavri with the Rohan(the unshaven Abhishek Bachchan sleepwalking through his obligatory extended special appearance) and Vivaan(Kunal Kapoor). Natasha and Rohan's track is too glum with rhyming dialogue littered with metaphors, but eventually banal in the grand scheme of things while that of Shubhavri and Vivaan forced. In fact, the latter romance takes place over the product placement of Lux! .The rest of the film unfolds as the loose ends of the plot are tied up and the 'daag' on Sacred Rani is cleansed --most notably through the rote 60's dialog as uttered drearily by Abhishek Bachchan.

The only performance in the film worth noting is that of Konkona Sen Sharma.Even though her character arc is completely screwed up, she manages to leave an impression without getting bogged down by the terrible material given to her--which really is a tribute to her talent.But its another thing that she could have gone a little easier on the dances.But its a fine performance nevertheless.