A young woman, large with child, her jaw set resolutely, heads out of the airport and into the bedlam that is present-day Calcutta. As droves of taxi drivers close in on her, clamoring for her custom, Usha Uthup, Calcutta's most famous singer, snarls Aami Shotti Bolchi –I tell you the truth—on the soundtrack. The artful dissonance of that jazzy track highlights the paradox of Calcutta, India's most populous city, at once erudite and ill-bred. The mayhem is heightened as the city prepares for the ten-day festival of Durga Puja, Calcutta's biggest celebration.
The young woman, Vidya Bagchi (Vidya Balan), directs the cabbie to a police station, where she files a missing persons report. She has flown in from London on the trail of her husband Arnab who had come to Calcutta on a two-week consulting job and inexplicably vanished. They are both computer engineers—firewall specialists, a detail lost on the obtuse official taking down her report.
Where would one even begin to look for a missing person in a city of teeming millions? One immediately sympathizes with the woman and the apparent impossibility of the task she has set herself. But we underestimate her mettle: she isn't cowed by bullying men who would have her accept her husband has left her pregnant and flown the coop; or by the Byzantine bureaucracy that accompanies the simplest government transactions; or the impenetrability of a city whose geography, language, culture, and nuances are completely alien to her.
With intelligence, charm, and sheer doggedness, she works at unraveling the mystery of what might have befallen her husband. She gains unexpected allies in a young policeman Rana (well-regarded Bengali actor Parambrata Chattopadhyay in his Hindi debut), a couple of urchins who work as chai-wallahs and errand runners, and Agnes D'Mello, the kindly HR Manager of the company which might have enlisted her husband's services. Within days, she convinces everyone that she isn't budging from the city without answers.
Her tenacity uncovers unsettling facts while yielding no satisfying answer about Arnab's whereabouts. As a contract killer starts shadowing her, we realize she is unwittingly on to something much bigger than the temporary disappearance of her husband. Sujoy Ghosh made his directing debut in 2003 with the sweetly gentle "Jhankar Beats", followed it up with two duds, and emerges a masterful storyteller with "Kahaani". The writing is the star here (Ghosh collaborated on the story, screenplay, and dialogue) –there isn't a single throwaway scene in the film. In this ingeniously constructed thriller, even the smallest details have significance, adding up to a hugely satisfying whole.
Vidya Balan, who is incapable of doing wrong these days, is the soul of the film. Her Vidya Bagchi is an unlikely protagonist for a mystery. Who would have thought a hugely pregnant woman scouring a city for her missing husband would make a compelling heroine? Going against the most primal female urge to find a safe haven to give birth, she instead thrusts herself into increasingly dangerous situations in her quest for the truth. She inspires compassion and admiration, as in the sweltering heat and chaos of Calcutta, she tours its morgues, hospitals, police stations, and seedy guest houses for elusive clues.
Indeed, Calcutta is a character in the film: alternately stately, raucous, playful, boorish, scary, and secretive—maddeningly tantalizing and stubbornly unwilling to reveal what happened to Arnab, and Ghosh and his cinematographer Satyajit "Setu" Pande use the city's myriad faces to telling effect.
There is nothing showy or actorly in Vidya's performance: she creates a completely realistic character who—even in advanced pregnancy—will not be placated or intimidated away from her mission. Her forthright, no-nonsense manner is reserved for the world outside, but we witness her moments of anxiety, fear, doubt, and sorrow in the privacy of her hotel room.
The film's conclusion falls fittingly on the final day of Durga Puja, the festival that celebrates the slaying of the demon Mahishasur at the hands of the fearsome goddess Durga. When everyone else is either ineffectual or untrustworthy, must Vidya Bagchi assume the modern-day avatar of an avenging goddess, too? It would be a disservice to the best thriller since "A Wednesday" to reveal any details – in fact, I entreat you not to discuss "Kahaani" with anyone who hasn't seen the film.
Everything in this film works because it is so superbly and tightly written. The supporting performances are excellent, with Nawazuddin Siddiqui as the cynical Intelligence Bureau officer Khan, Parambrata Chattopadhyay, and Saswata Chatterjee deserving special mention. In flashbacks narrated by Vidya, we see Indraneil Sengupta as her husband Arnab, while Darshan Jariwala makes a dignified appearance as Khan's superior who took early retirement. The two tea-seller boys are unaffected naturals, as they open up to the woman who treats them with kindness and dignity.
Over the end credits of this fine film, Amitabh Bachchan sings a poem by the most famous Bengali of all—Rabindranath Tagore: Ekla Chalo Re –be not afraid to walk alone—which might be a poignant anthem for our spirited heroine.
The young woman, Vidya Bagchi (Vidya Balan), directs the cabbie to a police station, where she files a missing persons report. She has flown in from London on the trail of her husband Arnab who had come to Calcutta on a two-week consulting job and inexplicably vanished. They are both computer engineers—firewall specialists, a detail lost on the obtuse official taking down her report.
Where would one even begin to look for a missing person in a city of teeming millions? One immediately sympathizes with the woman and the apparent impossibility of the task she has set herself. But we underestimate her mettle: she isn't cowed by bullying men who would have her accept her husband has left her pregnant and flown the coop; or by the Byzantine bureaucracy that accompanies the simplest government transactions; or the impenetrability of a city whose geography, language, culture, and nuances are completely alien to her.
With intelligence, charm, and sheer doggedness, she works at unraveling the mystery of what might have befallen her husband. She gains unexpected allies in a young policeman Rana (well-regarded Bengali actor Parambrata Chattopadhyay in his Hindi debut), a couple of urchins who work as chai-wallahs and errand runners, and Agnes D'Mello, the kindly HR Manager of the company which might have enlisted her husband's services. Within days, she convinces everyone that she isn't budging from the city without answers.
Her tenacity uncovers unsettling facts while yielding no satisfying answer about Arnab's whereabouts. As a contract killer starts shadowing her, we realize she is unwittingly on to something much bigger than the temporary disappearance of her husband. Sujoy Ghosh made his directing debut in 2003 with the sweetly gentle "Jhankar Beats", followed it up with two duds, and emerges a masterful storyteller with "Kahaani". The writing is the star here (Ghosh collaborated on the story, screenplay, and dialogue) –there isn't a single throwaway scene in the film. In this ingeniously constructed thriller, even the smallest details have significance, adding up to a hugely satisfying whole.
Vidya Balan, who is incapable of doing wrong these days, is the soul of the film. Her Vidya Bagchi is an unlikely protagonist for a mystery. Who would have thought a hugely pregnant woman scouring a city for her missing husband would make a compelling heroine? Going against the most primal female urge to find a safe haven to give birth, she instead thrusts herself into increasingly dangerous situations in her quest for the truth. She inspires compassion and admiration, as in the sweltering heat and chaos of Calcutta, she tours its morgues, hospitals, police stations, and seedy guest houses for elusive clues.
Indeed, Calcutta is a character in the film: alternately stately, raucous, playful, boorish, scary, and secretive—maddeningly tantalizing and stubbornly unwilling to reveal what happened to Arnab, and Ghosh and his cinematographer Satyajit "Setu" Pande use the city's myriad faces to telling effect.
There is nothing showy or actorly in Vidya's performance: she creates a completely realistic character who—even in advanced pregnancy—will not be placated or intimidated away from her mission. Her forthright, no-nonsense manner is reserved for the world outside, but we witness her moments of anxiety, fear, doubt, and sorrow in the privacy of her hotel room.
The film's conclusion falls fittingly on the final day of Durga Puja, the festival that celebrates the slaying of the demon Mahishasur at the hands of the fearsome goddess Durga. When everyone else is either ineffectual or untrustworthy, must Vidya Bagchi assume the modern-day avatar of an avenging goddess, too? It would be a disservice to the best thriller since "A Wednesday" to reveal any details – in fact, I entreat you not to discuss "Kahaani" with anyone who hasn't seen the film.
Everything in this film works because it is so superbly and tightly written. The supporting performances are excellent, with Nawazuddin Siddiqui as the cynical Intelligence Bureau officer Khan, Parambrata Chattopadhyay, and Saswata Chatterjee deserving special mention. In flashbacks narrated by Vidya, we see Indraneil Sengupta as her husband Arnab, while Darshan Jariwala makes a dignified appearance as Khan's superior who took early retirement. The two tea-seller boys are unaffected naturals, as they open up to the woman who treats them with kindness and dignity.
Over the end credits of this fine film, Amitabh Bachchan sings a poem by the most famous Bengali of all—Rabindranath Tagore: Ekla Chalo Re –be not afraid to walk alone—which might be a poignant anthem for our spirited heroine.