'Sharmajee Ki Beti' Review: A Simplistic, Intuitive Celebration of Womanhood

Sharmajee Ki Beti’s biggest flaw might be that it's too simple but simple doesn't directly translate to bad. Tahira Kashyap Khurrana’s film leaves you wanting more – both of it and from it. The film's title hints at most of what the film is about – three women, all with the surname Sharma, are trying to excel in their circumstances. 

While it's already a cheeky play at ‘sharmaji ka beta’ – the yardstick against which all Indian kids’ success is measured, it's interesting that the tag is used both for women whose maiden name probably isn't ‘Sharma’ and for their daughters, Swati Sharma (Vanshika Taparia) and Gurveen Sharma (Arista Mehta).

The three women are Kiran Sharma (Divya Dutta), Jyoti Sharma (Sakshi Tanwar), and Tanvi Sharma (Saiyami Kher). Kiran moved to Mumbai with her husband and daughter (Gurveen) from Patiala a year ago, Jyoti is a teacher at a coaching center and lives in Mumbai with her husband and daughter (Swati), and Tanvi is a Ranji cricketer who plays for the Mumbai team. 

Mumbai means different things to Kiran and Jyoti – both women who have moved to the city from smaller towns. For Kiran, the homemaker, the city’s hustle and bustle is isolating and suffocating but for Tanvi, the city is freeing. And Kiran’s relationship with the city plays a big part in her arc. 

She doesn't understand why everyone is always ‘rushing’; she laments the loss of her close-knit neighbourhood in Patiala – here her kind-hearted attempts at companionship are seen as an interruption to people's routine at best. In this isolation, her closest aide is probably her domestic help who shares an almost sibling-like equation with her. 

The film makes him her anchor to the real world, especially when she is swayed by her vivid imagination. But this anchor is also a reminder of her new life and that dichotomy is interesting to watch. 

Sharmajee Ki Beti wins in its simplicity – it chooses its arcs and stays with them and while you might sometimes find yourself wishing for more from the characters, you're eventually swept up by the film's heart. It unapologetically centers its women, giving them the reins to the story and the only con to that is that the side characters don't feel as fleshed-out as the protagonists. 

For instance, Tanvi’s boyfriend Rohan is the pretty-boy struggling actor who constantly subjects her to sexist microaggressions but we don't get to see much of him outside of that. It's the same reason why Kiran’s apathetic husband’s arc becomes predictable too. 

The film's highlight, however, is the ‘five’ intersecting storylines, especially because it views its children as individuals instead of infantilising them. The primary problem Swati and Gurveen are dealing with is that they haven't had their periods even though everyone in their vicinity has. Swati is particularly troubled by this to the point of it affecting her body image. 

The movie takes a look into how kids are often subjected to bigotry right from their childhood and how it affected their sense of identity. But it alternatively also looks at how ‘easy’ being supportive can be. There are points, however, where it feels like the film is taking an almost anecdotal approach to these experiences. 

The language of Sharmajee Ki Beti feels natural – especially in Swati and Jyoti’s relationship with each other. Both their frustrations with each other are given their space to exist; the film never takes sides. Jyoti’s identity as a working woman isn't separated from her identity as a mother like Indian films often tend to do. 

However, since the film isn't exactly a “novel” concept the entire time, it needed a strong cast to stand out from the crowd. And who better to trust with that responsibility than the likes of Divya Dutta and Sakshi Tanwar? Dutta captures every single mood shift seamlessly and plays Kiran with a simplicity that makes your heart go out for her.

Jyoti’s role seems tailor made for Tanwar with how easily she becomes her. Even some of the poorly sketched out parts (the oversimplification strikes yet again) of Jyoti don't feel as tiresome because of how earnest Tanwar is in her portrayal. 

And while Saiyami Kher is in absolute form as a sportsperson, there are some scenes where she feels lackluster. Conversely, there are also scenes, primarily the ones where she has to convey her silent indignation, where she excels. 

The film would, however, feel incomplete without Taparia and Mehta’s performances. Both actors feel like naturals on screen, making it even more believable that Swati would win the award she does. Mehta, especially, incorporates details into her performance throughout the film that tie into how her story ends.

Speaking of details, the film does seem to rush through some things to tie up all the ends. Maybe every character didn't need such a spelled-out ending; some non-endings would've done the film good. 

The film’s story is ably complemented by it's look and feel – the camerawork has a nostalgic sheen to shows like Parvarish from TV and that feeling of deja vu only helps these characters feel more personal. 

The idea of womanhood this film looks into feels lived in; so familiar that it moves you to happy tears. Sharmajee Ki Beti might not be a perfect film and will definitely get compared to films like Laapataa Ladies but who would ever mind being in that conversation? 

Also Read

‘Laapataa Ladies’ – and the Subtle, Striking Language of Feminism