Move Aside VFX Heroes, Sonakshi’s ‘Akira’ is as Real as it Gets

Sonakshi Sinha’s ‘Akira’ proves that action heroines can be as real as kajal-wearing, butt-kicking college-goers.

There are many ways to review a Bollywood film. I believe we’ve narrowed down parameters over the last few decades, rather efficiently, to a few.

There’s the Bhai/Bhai-inspired prototype that screams “Entertainment!” and blasts large handpump-shaped holes in the wall; there’s the romantic comedy school of film-making, replete with sweaters, Switzerland and bikinis; and when there’s time and space, and the director is particularly daring, there’s the kitschy, artsy kind of movie that, if you’re neither kitschy nor artsy yourself, will often fall by the wayside.

All great and fine — until you reach the forbidden fruit of cinema. The female-centric flick. For years, better directors than most have tried to chip away at the wall and only half-succeeded. Throw all the Queens and Pikus at the world if you will — there’s still disappointingly infrequent amounts of Bechdel-test worthy substance to speak of.

But Akira tries.  And commendably so.

The Almost ‘Un-incidental’ Heroine

Sample this. A young girl in Jodhpur watches as an acid attacker launches a vicious assault on his victim; she then tells on him — and when the latter comes at her for revenge, the fringe-haired, karate-trained Akira kicks the bejesus out of him.

As a result of her having poured acid on his face though (entirely in self-defence), Akira is held accountable and sent to a remand home for three years. Fast forward a few years, and the feisty Sonakshi (Akira) is all set to make the move to ‘mahanagiri’ Bombay to study in a liberal arts college and generally spread the sassiness around.

The movie is a remake of a Tamil movie, so if you’ve managed to chance upon the original — OR alternately sneaked a glance at Wikipedia (guilty), you know parts of how this turns out.

A corrupt bunch of cops (led by an irascible Anurag Kashyap) come across a half-dead car accident victim who has a lot of cash stashed in his car. They then proceed to kill the half-dead stranger and make off with the cash.

To cut a long story short, Sonakshi — aka Akira — catches wind of the plot rather unwittingly and carries out a one-woman crusade against said perpetrators.

Now, here’s the beauty of the movie. This could very well have been a Lady Singham. (Think badass cop who dunks everybody with a sort of miraculous Midas touch.) It could well have been a rehash of Queen. (Think erstwhile vulnerable damsel who metamorphoses into a think-on-her-feet kinda gal.) It could also have been a Mardaani — a la gun-toting, calls-herself-a-man-because-feminism-is-just-that-misunderstood type of heroine.

But Akira is none of the above.

She is a regular, kurti-churidar-sporting, copious-amounts-of kajal-wearing, college goer, with just the hint of a darker tale – but never a chip on the shoulder. Akira could very well have turned out to be an avenging angel; she could have sought out to be the action heroine that proves a point, that justifies — as female-centric movies often feel they must — her transformation from the acceptable bubbly end of the spectrum to the grunge goth.

But Akira isn’t. She doesn’t hold a grudge against her time in the remand home; instead, seeks to rise above it. It is in infinitesimal little moments like the one where she chooses to stay in the abandoned hostel room where a student committed suicide and looks at it with commiseration, that this female-centric movie’s magic truly shines.

The magic is also in the moments of a budding romance where she makes up a competent half of a possible love story with nothing more than conversation and shared ideals. It is in her, literally, kicking ass, with the ease of cutting chai in a Mumbai local.

Of Kajal, Kurtis and Kicks

Akira’s ability to kick butt is not venerated or displayed as extraordinary — it doesn’t include ridiculously VFX-ed jumps from six-storey buildings or crashing through fire and ice to emerge unscathed like a Teflon superhero. Akira’s fist fights and karate kicks are children of circumstance, and hence, come across as the most natural things in an otherwise rather chaotic plot.

There is also, of course, the superlatively simple act of the pregnant cop (a la Kahaani) pulled off with brilliance by Konkana Sen Sharma.

Having said that, Akira isn’t the out-and-out feminist movie that would have capped ‘em all. AR Murugudoss’ film, sadly, ties up loose ends at the film by implying that Sonakshi’s character must become the sacrificial lamb for a greater good. It pretty much behoves to say that if you must make a feminist film, with a feminist character and a feminist plot, there can be little scope for leeway.

They’re so few and far between.

For now, though, cinema has been given an action heroine to look up to, who has little to do with sexed-up bodysuits or man-imitating superheroes. The kajal and the punch, quite uniformly, take the cake.