Madam Chief Minister

In the purported political drama Madam Chief Minister, Richa Chadha, playing Tara Roopram, yells to the crowd: “How do I look?” The crowd yells back, “Patakha” (translated as ‘hot!’ in the subtitles). One look at her, clad in a sari (she used to wear manly, over-sized shirts with a boyish hairstyle to match), and you know Tara is out of her mind. Patakha might be an underwhelming overstatement.

Tara and the concept of this simplistic take on Indian politics have two things in common: they’re both lacklustre, ungrounded and uninvolving. Considering the film’s premise, of a politician battling corruption within the system, it would have been a tough job turning the concept into mush, but here we are.

Tara is a feisty, no-nonsense rural political candidate who is superficially lifted from Indian politician Mayawati. This, however, is not a story of the former four-time chief minister from Utter Pradesh; it would be been better if it were.

Subhash Kapoor, the director and writer of Jolly LLB and its sequel, helms an unappealing cinematic case-study of what one shouldn’t do when making a film in this particular genre. His story darts through insipid clichés in succession, introducing depthless characters and plot points that succeed in making a superficial sense of things.

For example: Tara (a perfect casting decision of Chaddha, by the way) is born exactly when her father is killed by a local landlord because a marriage procession tried to pass near his house. Her grandmother, who had already poisoned three newborn daughters when they were born, calls baby Tara an ill-omen, but somehow lets the girl live. The adult Tara works as a librarian at a local college, and carries on an affair with the landowner’s grandson (Akshay Oberoi).

Madam Chief Minister skims through important aspects that would have made the characters more memorable, whereas Roohi has mild scares and an outlandish comedic theme

The relationship — mostly lust with just talk of love — gets ugly fast when she says she’s pregnant, and he asks her to abort the child for the second time. Soon, bullied by his grandfather, he sends goons to beat the girl, and kill the baby in the womb.

Tara, battered and bloody, is cared for by the morally upright Master Surajbhan (Saurabh Shukla, excellent as always), a local man of political power whom the masses follow, and whose disciples often gain seats in election.

Tara, with her sharp tongue and mouth, quickly becomes a candidate for election… and the film spirals down to a faint after-image of its intended promise.

The people in Tara’s life — i.e. the supporting cast, so valuable in films of this genre — disappear in a whiff, partly because they’re cut in the edit, or because they’re deemed inconsequential to the narrative.

We see Tara arguing that she’s standing up for her beliefs, yet we don’t see the work she’s done, or the strength and conviction of her ideals… if there are any.

Actually, the only set of ideals we really see come from Master Surajbahn, a man who never sought power, and whose reputation with the commonfolk gives him immense leverage with people in government. Surajbahn is so pure of spirit and values that he rides around the towns in his district on a bicycle; he never had enough money to buy a car. His sense of righteousness comes from his reverence to B.R. Ambedkar, who championed the Dalit movement in India, and whose statue he bathes every morning. A film on Surajbahn would have been a far better story.

Here, the film skims through the important aspects that would have made the characters memorable. Specifically for Tara, this means all aspects that made her who she is — the backstory of her father, the grandmother and her tale of survival, the stigma that she might have faced in her life, anything and everything relevant — is either tossed away or cursorily discarded with a dialogue or two.

What we see is a poor man’s rendition of politics, where winning elections and killing adversaries — sans any political chicaneries — becomes a day job.

Madam Chief Minster is streaming at the top spot on Netflix right now. It is rated suitable for ages 16+

Roohi

Set in the cinematic universe of Stree (an evil female spirit) — yes, this cinematic universe is quickly becoming an in-thing, not that I’m complaining — Roohi has two bungling buddies, Bhawra and Kattanni, (Rajkummar Rao, Varun Sharma) trying to make sense of their love triangle with a girl who is possessed by a witch.

Technically, it’s not a triangle: Bhawra has fallen for Roohi (Jhanvi Kapoor), and Kattanni is mad about Afza, the witch — geddit? Rooh(i) Afza! (Fun-fact: the film was actually titled Roohi-Afza in production).

This is a strange little film, with sporadic bits of laugh-out-loud comedy, very little semblance of an actual plot and some brief but effective commentary on one’s lack of faith and the societal pressures of marriage.

Bhawra and Kattanni, a reporter for a down-on-its-luck local paper that hardly anyone reads, and his good-for-nothing chump friend, hail from a town where young women are, by custom, kidnapped and given the option to consensually marry a suitor (even writing this premise sounds strange). The work of these two “bride-nappers” is documented by a gora filmmaker (Alexx O’ Nell), whose lens frames India as an inexplicable land of the weird.

Roohi, who has little backstory other than being possessed by a witch, was abducted by Bhawra and Kattanni on their boss’s contract. That’s about 95 percent of the film’s story right there. In the last five percent, the plot suddenly takes a sharp right turn at the climax to deliver an in-your-face message on female empowerment (which I won’t talk about, since it’s the only other unique selling point of the film after the bizarre love triangle).

While the message is fine and fits the story, the way it’s presented raises questions, especially in the context of religion and (half-spoiler alert!) vows of matrimony.

Still, it’s not that bad a film. Rajkummar Rao, and especially Varun Sharma, deliver the comedic bits just fine, while Jhanvi Kapoor is given very little to do. Chances are you’ll enjoy the shenanigans because they don’t stoop to low-brow, adult humour.

Characters from Roohi will eventually run into those from Stree, which also stars Rao as a different character. Now that would be something to look forward to. In the meantime, the producers of the franchise should try working on their scripts a bit more.

Directed by Hardik Mehta, Roohi is trending at the No. 1 spot on Netflix’s Pakistan charts. It is rated 16+ for mild scares and outlandish comedic themes

Published in Dawn, ICON, April 18th, 2021