The drama explores the relations between a grief stricken father and his three daughters. Set in London, the time is now, the family of Indian origin. With his wife’s sudden death, Sanjay is suddenly thrown into close proximity with his three daughters. The drama unfolds over six days from the day when Manju dies to day of the funeral. Haunted by memories, grappling with this devastating loss, Sanjay finds himself assessing and carving out new relations with his three daughters. He is faced with a further crisis when he discovers his youngest and most loved daughter Dia, has a Muslim boyfriend -Imtiaz. Confused and angry, Sanjay leaves home and wanders the streets of London one night. With an unexpected series of events, Sanjay is forced to face his past demons.
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Reviews
Best movie of this year hands down!
To me, this movie is perfection.
It is an exhilarating, distressing, funny and profound film, with one of the more memorable film scores in years,
By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.
I was lured into watching this movie by the presence of some of my favorite stars - Girish Karnad and Om Puri. I started regretting my decision within the first 20 minutes. The plot had potential - a grieving family struggles to cope with the sudden death of the mother who was the glue that held the family together. But the script was painfully puerile. It threw in every cliché in the book and then some. There was a Hindu-Muslim angle, a rebellious lesbian daughter, immigrant angst, a cross-cultural marriage on the rocks, and an utterly predictable revelation of infidelity that was thrown in to humanize the otherwise goddess-like persona of the deceased mother and wife. And each cliché was executed in deadly earnest without an iota of subtlety or irony. There were repeated and ponderous musings on life and death. The dead woman kept appearing bathed in radiant hues as she sang and played the sitar, or strolled through flower filled meadows. Until the very end when her transgression was revealed and just to make sure the audience was hammered over the head with the idea - a picture frame with her photo was smashed to pieces. Although I had written off the movie by the half hour mark, I still cringed physically when there was a romantic duet in a meadow to showcase the youthful Hindu-Muslim romance threatened by rigid tradition. No, it was not done in a campy over- the-top Bollywood style, instead it was despairingly wooden and earnest. Bloody awful.
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