The subversive power of a sleeveless blouse has been cleverly exploited by the makers of Maa Behen on Netflix. The fun starts with the title itself. Really, Suresh Triveni? Begin with a notorious gaali and then build on the tropes? Ooooh, good one, Sirji.
Persuade a super diva (Madhuri Dixit) to play the maa. Throw in the beauteous Triptii Dimri and the uber-talented Dharna Durga to play the “behen-log” and bingo—you’ve got yourself a winner. Almost.
If only Triveni and his co-conspirator (Pooja Tolani) had let Madhuri deliriously vamp it up as a seductive, aging vixen bent on revenge, the movie would have become a savage classic. Instead, it peters out midway and ends up as yet another rona-dhona saga of a sacrificing mother named Rekha (errrr… happy coincidence?) compromising her reputation, guarding dark secrets and covering up a crime, in order to survive in a male-dominated, gossipy world. Yawwwwwn!
The star of the movie is Rekha’s sleeveless choli. It plays multiple roles and has been given a nuanced script and generous screen time, switching effortlessly from agent provocateur to a soggy gag for the drugged villain’s mouth. Between these dramatic scenes, the sleeveless choli regularly shows up as the so-called proof of Rekha’s libidinous ways. Her daughters taunt her about the lack of sleeves on her cholis, while the men in the neighbourhood leer, salivate and fantasise, each time Rekha flashes her bare arms.
The creators successfully tap into our judgmental gaze at a bold woman’s unconventional sartorial choices. They do so in a deliciously salacious way. As a society, we are comfortable displaying bare midriffs, exposed navels, cleavage-revealing cholis, bare backs in skimpy bralets. But only shameless hussies wear sleeveless saree blouses!
I only wish they hadn’t copped out and made Maa Behen into yet another morality tale with a sob-sob backstory to justify Rekha’s fierce defiance of small-town morals and rules.
The brief intercuts that show her in several femme fatale avatars, as she navigates her life in Adarsh Colony as a luscious but broke widow, taking on unsavoury “jobs” to pay the bills, had me begging for more extended flashbacks.
The film is a triumph for Madhuri Dixit, who smoothly transitions from a coy but conniving wife to a woman capable of killing her tormentor, Ravi Krishen playing Charitra Kumar. The shift in tone is deftly handled, as Rekha battles her own daughters, while trying to get rid of a comatose man in her bedroom before his family figures he’s gone missing. Black comedy? Yes and no. Triveni, more black next time, please. Who needs wishy-washy grey?
“Ouch!” indeed.
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The Dhak Dhak siren forever
At 59, Madhuri Dixit remains Bollywood’s last great Diva. Sorry, Rekha.
Her career span is staggering: multiple acting awards, a Padma Shri, countless tributes—including a 2003 Ram Gopal Verma movie titled Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon!. Most Gen Z fans (and she has zillions of them) were not born when the iconic ‘Ek Do Teen’ chartbuster from Tezaab (1988) had the nation swooning over the lithe dancer with a million-dollar smile and sparkling eyes.
By the time ‘Dhak Dhak Karne Laga’ was released in 1992, nobody could compete with the Madhuri Dixit magic. ‘Choli Ke Peeche’ followed in 1993, and Madhuri’s long reign began. It continued all the way through Devdas (2002) and ‘Dola Re’. All her great dance numbers still dazzle and blind admirers across the world. But nobody dares call Madhuri an item girl.
For all her immense wealth and fame, Madhuri Dixit remains an unapologetic Maharashtrian Mulgi, proud of her roots and firmly grounded in middle-class traditions. One can ignore her American accent when she posts reels singing international pop songs with her husband and business partner, Dr. Shriram Nene, and sons Arin and Ryan. The boys (who were born in America) have steered clear of the limelight and are rarely photographed. While Dr. Nene has built up a considerable independent following of his own on social media. Both husband and wife are shrewd investors and have built themselves an impressive fortune.
Madhuri’s 12-year absence from showbiz, when she left to make a new life of anonymity in Denver, Colorado, as a desi doctor’s wife in 1999, left several hearts broken in India. One of those was of her ardent admirer MF Husain, who had immortalised the actor through his paintings. Unable to deal with her absence, one fine day Husainsaab packed a small overnight bag, bought himself a ticket to the land of the free, and showed up at Madhur’s suburban residence without prior notice. His candid account of the days he spent in her home, watching her live the unglamourous life of a busy surgeon’s dutiful wife, shopping at the supermarket for groceries, cooking and cleaning like any homemaker, shocked the maestro! This persona was so far removed from the incandescent superstar she still was back home, that the unfamiliar, sobering image shattered the illusion he held of Madhuri and broke his heart some more.
Husainsaab and I were friends and neighbours. Soon after his return, he came over for chai and talked about those unforgettable days watching his muse, as she went about her chores, unmindful of his presence and proximity. He described her incomparable and innate grace, even in the simple act of making and serving him tea. He shut his eyes and sighed: “Just that single movement of her arm and fingers as she placed the cup in front of me…I have never ever seen such beauty…such perfection in a simple gesture.’’
There you have it from the artist himself. Husainsaab had described Madhuri as “The Eternal Enchantress” after watching her play Chandramukhi in Devdas. And so she remains. There can be no better compliment.
Shobhaa De is an author, columnist, social commentator, and opinion-shaper. She has written 20 books. She tweets @DeShobhaa. Views are personal.
(Edited by Ratan Priya)