Dear Maa

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.

Brinda's ordeal feels universally relatable, although Sohini is not her biological child, when she disappears, the film asks if love formed through nurture can survive abandonment, Jaya Ahsan's portrayal captures silent fear and fierce devotion, the journey isn't flashy, it's human, the film avoids dramatic idioms and instead finds power in moments of silence and small gestures, ensemble cast members including Anubha Fatehpuria and Dhritiman Chatterjee contribute layered emotional texture, visually the film embraces monsoon periods and urban interiors to echo vulnerability, the search becomes emotional more than legal.

Dear Maa tells the story of Brinda Mitra, portrayed by Jaya Ahsan, whose world is shattered when her adopted daughter Sohini goes missing, her search unfolding both like a procedural and a mother's desperate plea. The film delicately explores motherhood, adoption and self-sacrifice, showing how love can be more powerful than biology, the screenplay based on collaboration between Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury and Sakyajit Bhattacharya feels organic, the pacing steady not rushed, Monsoon Kolkata visuals paired with introspective performances from ensemble cast members like Saswata Chatterjee and Chandan Roy Sanyal reinforce the emotional weight, the slow revelations about identity and belonging make this drama quietly affecting and distinct in Bengali cinema.

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.