Dear Maa

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.

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.

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.

The visuals are stunning and the feel very cinematic This film quietly holds you in its emotional gravity, Jaya Ahsan delivers a restrained performance throughout, her grief restrained yet palpable whenever she searches police stations or questions passersby, themes of trust and custody weave through the narrative, exploring whether true parental bonds are chosen or enforced, Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury channels warmth and sadness through scenes where Brinda must confront her daughter's wish to leave, cinematographer Avik Mukhopadhyay frames monsoon-lit roads and interior silences with equal care, supporting actors such as Anubha Fatehpuria and Dhritiman Chatterjee add human texture without glamor, the film's length gives it room to breathe and build emotional stakes rather than lean on shock.

Poignant. Heartfelt. A good watch Dear Maa doesn't shy away from messy emotions. As Sohini's absence stretches into unknown territory, the adoptive mother navigates bureaucracy, blame, and emotional collapse. Jaya Ahsan anchors the film-her portrayal never sanctifies Brinda, it honors her humanity. The screenplay feels rooted in depth, showing adoption from multiple angles-between mothers, institutions, and personal trauma-rather than a single narrative track . The cast beyond Jaya-Saswata, Dhritiman Chatterjee, Shayan Munshi-fills the canvas with realism. Overall, the film shows that love doesn't guarantee belonging, but it does demand courage-and that tension makes Dear Maa memorable.