Dear Maa

The complexities of human relationships, especially motherhood are captured really well.

Dear Maa examines motherhood through lenses of loss and release-not in a preachy way but through raw emotion, Brinda's journey is a test of whether love can survive abandonment, Jaya Ahsan portrays this complexity through mid-day exhaustion and tear-streaked determination rather than speeches, the child actor shines too, Sohini's eyes carry conflict when she refuses her adoptive mother, the music by Bickram Ghosh underscores emotional swings with restraint, supporting cast threads like legal procedures and social assumptions enrich the emotional core, Aniruddha's directorial choices emphasize emotional arcs over plot mechanics, by the end you feel as if you've witnessed a rupture that both breaks and rebuilds familial bonds.

A sincere attempt at good storytelling At nearly 2 hours 24 minutes, Dear Maa may seem long, but it earns every minute through emotional sincerity. Jaya Ahsan's commanding presence grounds the story of a mother whose daughter rejects her love. The disappearance triggers not only a citywide police search (where Saswata Chatterjee and Anubha Fatehpuria appear in key roles) but also an emotional unraveling of societal biases and personal chaos. The narrative, while not twist-heavy, is driven by internal stakes: shame, guilt, maternal grief, and redemption. I was moved by how the film unpacks adoption, showing it as both care and conflict, creating a universal pathos that's deeply human.

A lovely film that is all heart and feels.

After watching Dear Maa, I felt like I'd lived Brinda Mitra's pain alongside her. Jaya Ahsan powerfully portrays a mother who refuses to give up, even when her adopted daughter Sohini goes missing. The disappearance isn't just a mystery, it's an emotional rupture that highlights themes of belonging, family, and maternal courage. With Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury's sensitive direction, the film explores adoption not as a label but a bond formed through sacrifice and trust. The urban Kolkata backdrop, the slow-building tension, and the performances from the supporting cast, including Chandan Roy Sanyal and Saswata Chatterjee, make this drama both compelling and intimate. Every searching glance and vulnerable silence builds toward a story about releasing control as much as holding on. A quietly powerful watch.

Dear Maa handles a sensitive adoption storyline with restraint, the disappearance is treated as a personal crisis, not just a plot device, Jaya Ahsan conveys Brinda's grief with a quiet strength that avoids overstatement, the screenplay reflects lived emotional truths rather than clichés, Chandan Roy Sanyal brings subtle weight to a supporting role that anchors the investigation, the visuals by Avik Mukherjee are understated, scenes in the police station and lyric-lit rooms feel somber, the layered story about the politics of care and letting go doesn't resolve neatly, which makes it feel more real.

The most gripping aspect of Dear Maa is its refusal to glamorize or simplify mother-daughter relationships. Brinda and Sohini's bond fractures under emotional strain, and yet the film never loses sight of love as the throughline. Jaya Ahsan portrays this tension with nuance, her grief and determination invested, never performative. The supporting ensemble, including Chandan Roy Sanyal as a key figure in the search, brings understated solidity. Visually, the film captures monsoon-streaked Kolkata and its subdued aesthetic to mirror internal mood. In the end, the tragedy and hope interweave subtly, not through melodrama, but through quiet resilience.