Let me get the one saving factor out of the way at the outset, Vidya Balan has proven herself as a (and I will not go overboard in heaping praise) fine and capable actress in this project and I think that about covers the positive/s of this film. Mediocre script and direction, a disoriented narrative, confused and flimsy characterizations, below-average music, uncomfortably unsubtle, theatrical and ‘trying-too-hard’ double entendres and amateurish editing are some of its technical shortcomings. But, more importantly, the context of this film and its intentions has to be questioned and examined.
I recently saw Vidya Balan in a TV discussion, ‘We the people’, I think, semi-articulately but quite vehemently purport the concept of ‘coming of age’ feminism in Bollywood and presented to us, with obvious enthusiasm bursting forth, ‘The dirty picture’ as the panacea against the general and almost standard male dominated, chauvinistic philosophy of Indian commercial cinema till date, she claimed the role of hers in the, then upcoming, movie was the tearaway from your usual female ‘heroines’, that of a woman of substance who lead life on her own terms, didn’t flinch at displaying, embracing and marketing sexuality and sex, something we Indians, and specifically us Indian men are not very good at, especially if it does not adhere to the ‘male gaze’. She led us to believe, her character in the film and Silk Smitha in her days were the epitome of ‘emancipation of the female gender’. Her insistence that the movie ‘Dirty...’ has pushed the boundaries of Bollywood cinema, in that, it is has now reached a level of maturity in the treatment of gender challenges and perspectives, heralded a brave new world where the female protagonist is devoid of the conventional male prejudices and all in all, is a ‘finger in your face’, ‘out there’ break-through film is a serious premise to claim and will obviously be tested by a thinking audience.
With such serious designs, the film has already opened itself to critical analysis and will thereby justify a sober and pedantic review as opposed to declaring it just another ‘slightly above average’ churned product from the factories of Bollywood, which has been, for at least the last couple of decades or more, a mediocre production line at best, with quality, honest and intelligent cinema few and far between. Bearing these in mind, one has to look at the film as more than a ‘flawed genius’ story and certainly above the standard ‘femme fatale’ protagonist. In ‘Silk’, the film has a bit of both, and a little of neither, the real Silk was no genius nor was she obviously flawed, Silk Smitha was just a small town girl who realized the grand truth that ‘Sex sells’, she adopted it and adapted accordingly, she used it and let her be used, she made a lot of money because of this natural human nature and she lost a lot due to the perverse hypocrisy of our society regarding the same. Silk was no prodigal talent who had it all only to lose; she was just a victim of fame and its related vices. She thought she was indispensible in a world too full of talents and realized it the hard way. The movie and the main character, unfortunately, depend too much on a hero or in this case a ‘heroine’ who wasn’t, but there still is a lot in the story of the real Silk to make the character a portrait of a strong woman, who refused to care about what society and its men thought, who was blatant and forthright and who fought a lone feminine battle in a world ruled by hypocrisy and chauvinism.
The blame, however, for the weakening of a potentially and relatively strong protagonist character has to fall squarely on the shoulders of the makers of the film. Silk comes across at times as a victim and at others as a severe narcissist who addresses herself mostly in the third person. Her character is not well developed for the audience to relate to her, her desires and dreams, why she acts how she does and her flip-flops in how she deals with her world. The quintessential ‘connection’ is never made and the audience go through the entire film feeling the distance, a sense of not understanding her. The character goes through most part of the film not giving a damn and suddenly craves acceptance. The disillusionment, though natural and understandable is not conveyed adequately, thus leaving the viewer out of this important shift in narration. These glitches in the building of the central character is possibly due to the non-adherence of the film makers to the actual biography, cause if you stick to the real story you will find these key moments.
The tone of the film is again confusing; does the film consider itself a serious biopic or a masala concoction loosely based on the story of Silk Smitha? It unfortunately, inclines to the latter, thus rendering all gravitas irrelevant thanks to dream sequences and romantic songs on picturesque Goan forts with dressed-up extras and the works. I am not certain Silk Smitha in her decline was dreaming up romantic choreographed songs with a ‘foe-turned-friend’ director dude. Also, the annoying ‘Toiii-toiii’ sound effect, almost throughout the film, whenever there is an attempted double entendre going brings down the film to a crass mass entertainer. I, however, have no complaints if that was what the movie wants to be, but please don’t market it otherwise.
Finally, apart from Vidhya’s powerhouse performance, the rest of the bunch is quite pedestrian, Naseerudin Shah is sleep walking his role, and he can afford to do so as the role demands very little from such a good actor, Emraan Hasmee is in his usual form with quite minimal expressions and mediocre dialogue delivery, but he is at his irritating best as the narrator, using what seems like a digitally modified monotonous drone for the purpose, which actually makes it hard to understand what he is saying and therefore insipid. Tushaar kapoor is, well..., he is there, and we all know why he is there. The other actors like the producer mate of Vidhya’s, the stall owner lady are all adequately cast, and just about. The reporter lady/socialite/film critic is there as the mirror of society in the form of the media, but is relegated to changing positions and unnecessary inclusions which is symptomatic of the film itself.
Overall, the film leaves you with a sense of being cheated, firstly because of shortfall in honouring its advertised position and campaign as the avant-garde, boundary destroying, heralding of the new age feminism in Bollywood cinema. It is not, and you possibly must not expect this from Ektha Kapoor. With an attention grabbing and ironic title ‘The dirty picture’, very little research and effort to be honest with the period it is set in (you can see numerous flaws in the sets, costumes and atmosphere regarding the timeline), over the top sensibilities in dialogue and art, poor characterization and unnecessary song sequences, all that the film is, is a ‘sub-par bollywoodish attempt at biopic’.
Watch it for Vidya, if you happen to be a fan of hers, there are no other reasons.