Sir is one of the most beautiful and breathtaking films I've seen off late. It is a quiet, optimistic and profound account of the relationship between Aashwin, a recently separated young and welathy man from Mumbai, and Ratna, his live-in housemaid. The film is mostly set within Aashwin's luxurious apartment, and their personal stories are kept most of the time pretty much in the background, as we follow their bond. We soon learn of the problems both of them are facing. He has recently called off his marriage with his adulterous girlfriend whom he never loved, his brother has died, and he gives up a better future in New York to help with the family business. She comes from a very primitive village down south, supports her family financially and pays for her sister's education; she was once married in her teens and widowed after several months. This job is a dream job for her as it pays well and provides her with housing and a kind boss who always treats her well and never throws tantrums the kind of which some of her other maid friends have to bear with their employers. Aashwin, despite being terribly immersed in his current state, never takes it out on Ratna. She, on her end, leads an independent life and dreams of becoming a designer.
It's an interesting paradox (and maybe it's not a paradox at all) to see how Aashwin, supposedly the more privileged among the two, who has money and social status and a host of friends and relatives around him and always supporting him, finds more difficulty in struggling with his daily realities and can't find satisfaction (at least during the course of the film, which is a specific point in time, to be fair). Ratna, on the other hand, whose existence is much more challenging--a hard-working woman who has lost her husband and has nothing going for her really except for her simple, modest dreams--is totally optimistic, never gives up and always holds hope for a better day. If that is not enough, she fends for her family and for her younger sister's education, and has so much carried on her slim shoulders, and yet dreams of becoming a designer and improving her life. The concept of happiness as a state of exploring, fighting for something and walking towards a goal rather than merely achieving it, gets perfect meaning through her character. Ratna even manages to encourage and instill faith in Aashwin, briefly sharing with him her life story and teaching him the simplest lesson it has taught her, "life is never over", in one of the film's best scenes.
This is just the beginning of a change. The relationship between Aashwin and Ratna is beautifully portrayed and even more beautifully developed. It is real, believable and never feels artificial. Rohena Gera, the film's writer and director, does a great job on both accounts. The script is very carefully written, and the direction more than does justice to it. In the initial stages, their interactions are random and very matter of fact with not a single hint at a possible romantic spark, but there's a gradual growth of affection and affinity, which culminates in romantic and sexual tension, though not in the sleazy way. Much is said about Ratna, but Aashwin is a greatly endearing character. He is presented as a true gentleman throughout the story, who doesn't employ the perverted ways of people of his social strata. For him, Ratna is as equal as one of his distinguished guests on a night party, he treats her with utmost kindness and respect, and his worldly understanding that nothing makes one human better than another other than their personality and moral stand, is impressive.
Incredibly realistic, subtle and engaging, Sir addresses themes of social class, race, urban loneliness, and the fragility of human relationships. It offers a strong commentary on the distorted moral values of the so-called elite, and even more critically so on the regressive, condescending and prejudiced worldview among some educated members of the upper class, often masked under the guise of nothing but preachy nonsense. "You can't date your maid", says one of the characters in the film, and he's a good guy, so is it really his fault? Well, the film is less critical of the characters, it's critical of the social norms that dictate what is reckoned as good, bad, or just totally unacceptable. And our heroine herself does not believe she could ever have any sort of relationship with her employer. She is too afraid of what it might evoke and how her surroundings would react. The audience will find it very easy to connect with both Aaswin and Ratna's stories. More than anything, it's amazing how a film situated within this restricted setting for the most part, manages to be constantly fascinating and do so much with so little.
Without much further ado, I should pronounce right away the great magic of this film other than the terrific writing, and it is the extraordinary Tillotama Shome. Her Ratna is a true portrait of strength, power and resillience. Shome's gestures, dialogue delivery and overall presence in the role of a rustic housemaid is amazingly believable and always rings true. In Shome's interpretation, Ratna may lack some of the western sophistication that most people in her new setting seem to have, but her inner world is so much richer and not for a single moment does she lose her sense of dignity. The other half of this beautiful story is Vivek Gomber, around whose character the film is based (Sir is the form of address Ratna uses with him). He is not as good as Shome, and his English delivery is poor, but he is still quite competent as the kind and radiant Aashwin, often doing enough with his presence and successfully registering the growth in his character, his process of healing and gradual enamourment with Ratna. These two really make this film the gem that it is. Sir is an inspiring, profound, and deeply involving piece of storytelling. It is a moving human story which I'm sure many would relate to and hopefully learn from.
