Rarely, a film comes across that is so well-made that it’s difficult to figure out where to start when you want to talk about it. Should I first talk about the way Laapataa Ladies views and understands its characters or should I start by talking about the delicate way in which it deals with its setting? Or should I instead talk about how it refuses to take the easy way out, all while making sure the story feels easy to watch? The answer has so far eluded me so I will, ironically, take the expected route and begin with a summary.
Set in 2001 in a fictional Nirmal Pradesh, the film introduces two newlywed brides, their faces covered with ghungats, sitting with their grooms in a train compartment. Earlier, we see how Phool (Nitanshi Goel), dealing with a recent tragedy, looks meek compared to her joyful male companion, her husband Deepak (Sparsh Shrivastav). The other woman in the train is Jaya (Pratibha Ranta).
Startling awake from his sleep, Deepak realises he’s about to miss his stop, grabs the hand closest to his, and gets off the train.
Friends and family greet the couple at Deepak’s village, only for everyone to find out that the woman Deepak came home with is Jaya and Phool is, essentially, laapataa. Phool finds herself at a different station, stranded and afraid. If you were uncomfortable till now, you’re now afraid. There are so many things that could go wrong but instead Laapataa Ladies decides to flip the expected script.
That is not to say that the film is detached from reality – in a distressing conversation, Deepak’s friends talk to him about the ‘worst-case scenario’. And yet, the nonchalance in their tones and the fact that they claim they were just ‘joking’ only drives home the point of how women’s safety is looked at. Their privilege prevents them from seeing the gravity of the situation or even after seeing it gives them the ability to ‘joke’ about it.
Stranded at Pateela station, Phool runs into a helpful group of people (most notably Chhaya Kadam as the stern but sensitive Manju Mai who runs a tea and snacks stall). Back at Deepak’s village, the search for Phool continues even as Jaya has a transformative effect on Deepak’s family.
Adapted from a story by Biplab Goswami, with a screenplay and dialogue by Sneha Desai and directed by Kiran Rao, Laapataa Ladies is heartwarming because of the way women across the film’s tapestry, begin to band together and find companions in each other is heartwarming. From Deepak’s otherwise quiet sister-in-law finding someone to talk to in Jaya to a saas-bahu wondering if they could be friends after initially locking heads, Kiran Rao’s story is about its women above all else.
Laapataa Ladies also derives a lot of its narrative strength from the dialogues. “Bablu ke papa yahan nahi hai, baat kisse krenge hum, (My husband isn’t here, who am I supposed to talk to?)” the sister-in-law asks Jaya. This simple exchange speaks volumes about the way women feel alienated when they enter a new household; how patriarchy has conditioned her to seek companionship only with her husband or her child.
Even after Deepak asks Phool to hand her belongings to him, he says, “Jevar chori doi dukh paana; chhota dukh chori, bada dukh thaana (if your jewelry is stolen, you deal with dual grief – the smaller grief is that of the theft and the bigger grief is of having to deal with the cops). Once again, the simple dialogue highlights the unequal relationship between those tasked to protect and those that need protection – this saying clearly signifying that, at least in Deepak’s vicinity, people fear the police as much as they fear the thief.
The film builds upon this through Ravi Kishan’s character Shyam Manohar at the Murti thaana. Even as the film feels like a slice-of-life story infused with ample moments of natural comedy, there is a lingering fear the entire time. What is Jaya afraid of? Will she finally escape? Will Phool and Deepak reunite and if they do, what will their new relationship look like?
Speaking of the dialogues, there are moments where the messaging feels too on-the-nose – the dialogues point out things that could’ve been left for the audience to interpret (and they would’ve because the makers stage that messaging well). Slight issues in pacing aside, it is perhaps the only drawback in an otherwise brilliant film.
The attention to detail in Laapataa Ladies is exquisite. From the little details making up Deepak’s house and surroundings (the cot in which the grandfather sleeps, the dark rooms lit up by light sunlight streaming in, the way everyone has a distinct style in the way they wear their clothes, a woman hiding a sketch of her husband under her bed) to the hustle and bustle of the train stations.
It only helps that the film's camerawork (courtesy Vikash Nowlakha) and production design (kudos to Vikram Singh) work seamlessly well to bring this vision to life.
Additionally, no character is left behind in the film. A man repeatedly taking extra chutney from Manju mai’s stall, Manju mai herself, and Deepak’s friends among others, all get enough screen space and ‘character’ to be memorable. Chhaya Kadam as Manju mai has a kindness in her eyes that cuts through her stern exterior; her gait is that of a woman who is both self-confident and exhausted by everything she had to deal with to get there.
A cheeky take on a ‘cat lady’, Manju mai is the spark Phool needed to take a step back and take stock of her life. In the conversations between the two women, the makers point at things like female agency, patriarchal conditioning, independence, questioning the status quo and much more.
Laapataa Ladies never tries to elicit a response from the audience – it is only interested in telling a story; in conveying a message.
If Manju mai’s eyes hold kindness, Pratibha Ranta’s eyes hold a ferocious need to break free. Her confidence and determination are infectious.
Nitanshi Goel as Phool is a character that is supposed to get lost in the crowd – she constantly seems like she’s trying to meld into her surroundings. And yet, Goel’s performance stands out and she plays Phool with an unmistakable radiance – even in the background, you can always see Phool. The little ways in which she becomes more confident in her skin are delightfully liberating to watch.
Geeta Agrawal, once again, is a scene-stealer – reminiscent of many women I’ve come across in my life. The way her character is written and performed makes it tough to not immediately empathise with her. She is perhaps one of the best examples of the film not taking the obvious route – of not putting any character in a binary. The idea of doing something to make herself happy is incredulous to her.
The generational nature of how patriarchy continues to affect women’s lives is laid bare in her relationships with the women around her without pitting women against each other. Every single cast member does a commendable job, doing their part in making the film what it is. Laapataa Ladies as a whole is greater than the sum of its parts but that is because each of its parts is giving their 100% (Ravi Kishan, for instance, seems to be having the time of his life with his role).
Last but definitely not the least is Sparsh Shrivastav – the actor who made his mark with Jamtara is every part as compelling here as well. As a man torn between the guilt of not recognising his wife and the need to find her, Shrivastav brings Deepak alive, building him up to become more than a caricature.
The film’s most powerful message is that the status quo starts to crumble when the disenfranchised come together and begin to ask questions. When women band together and question the roles decided for them, eventually finding the agency of choice, things start to change. And change is always important. Maybe that’s why it feels good to watch a film like Laapataa Ladies.
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