Shastry Viruddh Shastry Review: Shorter Runtime Would've Helped This Decent Film

Nandita Roy and Shiboprosad Mukherjee’s films often work for their grasp on human emotions and the recognition of serious themes in the mundane. They do bring this intuition to the Hindi adaptation of their 2017 film Posto, Shastry Viruddh Shastry. 

Yaman (Kabir Pahwa) is growing up in the lush landscape of Panchgani under his grandparents Urmila (Neena Kulkarni) and Manohar’s (Paresh Rawal) watchful eyes. Meanwhile Yaman’s mother Mallika (Mimi Chakraborty) and father Malhar (Shiv Panditt) work in Mumbai and visit the family on weekends. After Malhar expresses his wish to take Yaman back with him, a legal battle ensues between Malhar and Manohar (aka Guruji). 

The way Shastry Viruddh Shastry handles generational trauma is interesting; exploringing it through Manohar’s relationship with his sons and his grandson. While the repetitive background music takes away from the tension, Rawal’s performance is enough to elicit the emotions the makers perhaps intended to. The film mainly explores the difference in parenting– in the older generation and the new (or ‘regressive’ and ‘progressive’ as the film calls it).

While there is an attempt to balance the criticism on both sides, the latter gets the shorter end of the stick. However, in the actual legal battle, the screenplay manages to lay bare both the lawyers’ arguments and their respective prejudices. 

Manohar’s lawyer is his senior citizen friend (Manoj Joshi), who is contemptuous of the younger generation. Malhar is represented by a young, shark-like woman (Amruta Subhash) who believes that the older generation stifles their children. The film presents both sides cogently and leaves the viewer as confused as the judge about which side to pick. As Mallika says at one point – and this is not given adequate attention – why is the mother’s point of view not even taken into account?

Yaman’s attachment to both his grandparents and his parents is sensitively explored. The decision to make the child pick a clear side could’ve been enticing because of being comparatively easier to write but it’s worthy of notice that the makers understand how a child would react in such a situation. 

As the strict patriarch, Rawal does an incredible job of making you both half-pity and empathise with the man, while recognising that his iron fist-style parenting was suffocating for his children. It’s rare for films to actually portray a patriarch with such nuance – here is a man who is both introspective and adamant, creating a heady mix for everyone around him. Panditt shares most of the scenes with Rawal and he matches stride for the most part while some scenes, often requiring emotional heft, feel hammed up. 

Neena Kulkarni’s performance, as Yaman’s doting grandmother stuck between the egos of her husband and her son, is memorable for its tenderness and restraint. In contrast, Mimi Chakraborty needs to be more outspoken and assertive but even she introduces nuances to her act that work, especially in the way most of her honesty happens in outbursts. It’s a film that gives glimpses into the way women are often unheard in patriarchal settings.

There is a moment where Mallika asks the family why nobody has taken her perspective as a mother into consideration and criticises the family for undermining her as a parent and it is one of the film’s better scenes.

A deeper look into that dynamic would’ve served well especially since the film had time to do so. Shastry Viruddh Shastry has all the necessary emotions but it fails to be engaging in bits. Some of the scenes feel drawn out and it extends the film’s runtime more than it needed to be. Towards the end, you’re left feeling more restless than engaged in the plot. While the songs in the film are soulful and melodic and would perhaps be great additions to a travel playlist, they take up way too much time in the film.  

Even the way Malhar and Mallika run their household, a stark contrast to the way Manohar and Urmila run, is hinted at but the messaging seems confused. Manohar chastising his son for not working while his wife works should’ve been something the film opposed (considering the route they take throughout the film) but the conversation becomes more about Malhar’s ‘ability’ to become the breadwinner than the fact that he’s allowed to choose not to be. 

The film’s strength lies in the fact that nothing feels truly resolved. The “solutions” we see all feel short term because that is often how real life works. In a battle between one generation that believes in ‘Parampara Pratishtha Anushasan’ and another that is trying to make a living in a cutthroat world that could lead to neglect, perhaps there can be no long term solutions.