I wonder why debutant director Kiran Rao's 'Dhobi Ghat' raised so many expectations in the first place? Was it the catchy name of the film, the hype about the director being very refined in her sensibilities or the Aamir Khan 'effect'? Whatever the reason, the outcome is something of a self- indulgent director giving us her version of Mumbai ( the sub title of the film being 'Mumbai Dairies'), and never mind the need to have a cogent narrative that holds the audience and moves the story forward.
So then, is it all about Mumbai? Well so it would seem if one were to go by Arun (Aamir Khan) the artist's comment at the launch of his painting exhibition about Mumbai being his 'muse, whore and beloved'. All very well in concept but not quite borne out in execution. It is at this arty launch that he meets Shai (Monica Dogra), the investment banker from America, on a sabbatical to pursue her interest in photography and expected to produce a few papers to justify her 'research'. Mutual attraction and drinks lead to a one- night stand which results in a dour- faced Arun the morning after, discouraging all attempts by Shai to continue with the liason. She walks out in a huff and we wait to see what happens next.
A dhobi called Munna (Prateik Babbar) and a newly married Muslim girl called Yasmin (Kirti Malhotra) come into play. The former appears in real time and engages in the professional capacity of a dhobi with Arun and personal capacity of a guide and companion with Shai. The latter, Yasmin is seen through a video replay as Arun watches her autobiographical video recordings made to send to her brother Imran, back in the village. Unlikely characters whose paths are now made to criss cross with the others. While Shai is taken up with Munna, Arun is inadvertently drawn into the poignant story of Yasmin, told through the three tapes that he finds by chance in the cupboard he has inherited from the previous tenants of the flat.
The pairing off complements and contrasts with each other. While in the first one, Shai films Munna at work in the dhobi ghat and shoots his modelling portfolio, Arun in the second is drawn to the unfolding pathos of Yasmin's story. A film within a film technique which is supposed to be very clever. Both Shai and Arun are the quintessential voyeurs, looking into the lives of people who inhabit different worlds to theirs.
Shai's attitude to Munna is that of an equal's, much to the disapproval of Agnes, her maid who insists on serving him tea in a glass and not a mug. Shai shows no condescension towards Munna but neither does she seem emotionally engaged to him at all. The time they spend together at an eatery or the movies seem just that to her - a 'time pass'. Only Munna goes through stages of infatuation and deep disappointment as he hopes for the impossible, while Shai seems strangely oblivious to the possible effect such a relationship could have on the not so simple dhobi. There is a hint of him being a gigolo to one of his middle-aged clients. On the other hand, the simple Yasmin is addressing her missives to her brother only, but succeeds in engaging not just Arun but the audience in her touching tale of the lonely girl trapped in a sham of a marriage in the big city.
It is so very easy to introduce unconventional relationships and incongruent situations in your narrative. The audience is rivetted initially. But to be able to carry the tale through is the real test. Otherwise, the audience catches on and realises that they are not really going anywhere after all.
The unconventional relationship between the rich daughter of a Parsi builder, Shai and a young dhobi, Munna had possibilities but it is resolved quite tamely. The story of Yasmin culminates in tragedy but has moments of mirth when her maid's daughter, Vinita recites the poem 'The Broke' by 'Alfred Lord Tennyson'. The unresponsive neighbour who seems to have seen it all but is always alone and silent is again an interpretation of the 'gaze'.
The vignettes of their different lives do not quite mesh as they run on different lines. This creates more of a documentary effect as the narrative is disjointed.
So then, is Mumbai the leit motif of the film? Not quite, as the director does not foreground it in any way. If at all, there is a 'touristy' take on the city with resplendent Ganesh Chaturthi idols, of interest possibly to the Western viewer perhaps? Arun's arty pursuit results in an ultimate canvas, supposed to be an ode to Mumbai? One is left wondering.
In terms of performances, Kirti Malhotra as Yasmin stands out as a gifted actress. Her portrayal of the bereft Yasmin, tugs at your heart strings. Aamir can be trusted to put in a capable performance, no matter what. Monica Dogra as Shai leaves one dissatisfied. There is no resonance that she brings to her character. Flat and insipid. As for Munna, Prateik Babbar looks and plays the part but needs to work on his voice.
Dhobi Ghat leaves you washed out, though it is only a 90 odd minute film.
So then, is it all about Mumbai? Well so it would seem if one were to go by Arun (Aamir Khan) the artist's comment at the launch of his painting exhibition about Mumbai being his 'muse, whore and beloved'. All very well in concept but not quite borne out in execution. It is at this arty launch that he meets Shai (Monica Dogra), the investment banker from America, on a sabbatical to pursue her interest in photography and expected to produce a few papers to justify her 'research'. Mutual attraction and drinks lead to a one- night stand which results in a dour- faced Arun the morning after, discouraging all attempts by Shai to continue with the liason. She walks out in a huff and we wait to see what happens next.
A dhobi called Munna (Prateik Babbar) and a newly married Muslim girl called Yasmin (Kirti Malhotra) come into play. The former appears in real time and engages in the professional capacity of a dhobi with Arun and personal capacity of a guide and companion with Shai. The latter, Yasmin is seen through a video replay as Arun watches her autobiographical video recordings made to send to her brother Imran, back in the village. Unlikely characters whose paths are now made to criss cross with the others. While Shai is taken up with Munna, Arun is inadvertently drawn into the poignant story of Yasmin, told through the three tapes that he finds by chance in the cupboard he has inherited from the previous tenants of the flat.
The pairing off complements and contrasts with each other. While in the first one, Shai films Munna at work in the dhobi ghat and shoots his modelling portfolio, Arun in the second is drawn to the unfolding pathos of Yasmin's story. A film within a film technique which is supposed to be very clever. Both Shai and Arun are the quintessential voyeurs, looking into the lives of people who inhabit different worlds to theirs.
Shai's attitude to Munna is that of an equal's, much to the disapproval of Agnes, her maid who insists on serving him tea in a glass and not a mug. Shai shows no condescension towards Munna but neither does she seem emotionally engaged to him at all. The time they spend together at an eatery or the movies seem just that to her - a 'time pass'. Only Munna goes through stages of infatuation and deep disappointment as he hopes for the impossible, while Shai seems strangely oblivious to the possible effect such a relationship could have on the not so simple dhobi. There is a hint of him being a gigolo to one of his middle-aged clients. On the other hand, the simple Yasmin is addressing her missives to her brother only, but succeeds in engaging not just Arun but the audience in her touching tale of the lonely girl trapped in a sham of a marriage in the big city.
It is so very easy to introduce unconventional relationships and incongruent situations in your narrative. The audience is rivetted initially. But to be able to carry the tale through is the real test. Otherwise, the audience catches on and realises that they are not really going anywhere after all.
The unconventional relationship between the rich daughter of a Parsi builder, Shai and a young dhobi, Munna had possibilities but it is resolved quite tamely. The story of Yasmin culminates in tragedy but has moments of mirth when her maid's daughter, Vinita recites the poem 'The Broke' by 'Alfred Lord Tennyson'. The unresponsive neighbour who seems to have seen it all but is always alone and silent is again an interpretation of the 'gaze'.
The vignettes of their different lives do not quite mesh as they run on different lines. This creates more of a documentary effect as the narrative is disjointed.
So then, is Mumbai the leit motif of the film? Not quite, as the director does not foreground it in any way. If at all, there is a 'touristy' take on the city with resplendent Ganesh Chaturthi idols, of interest possibly to the Western viewer perhaps? Arun's arty pursuit results in an ultimate canvas, supposed to be an ode to Mumbai? One is left wondering.
In terms of performances, Kirti Malhotra as Yasmin stands out as a gifted actress. Her portrayal of the bereft Yasmin, tugs at your heart strings. Aamir can be trusted to put in a capable performance, no matter what. Monica Dogra as Shai leaves one dissatisfied. There is no resonance that she brings to her character. Flat and insipid. As for Munna, Prateik Babbar looks and plays the part but needs to work on his voice.
Dhobi Ghat leaves you washed out, though it is only a 90 odd minute film.
