A bold women’s ensemble elevates Deepak Rauniyar’s socio-political film to greater heights, like a shooting star sparkling with amazement in one of the Venice Film Festival’s most remarkable and must-watch entries this year.
Peace has become a costly endeavor in today’s world, a thought that bothers me every morning as I read about the wars and oppressions raging around the globe within various layers of communities. The feeling of being pushed away from what’s worthy, the mistreatment of one’s original identity, and the fear that it may just continue to last forever are what haunt me even deeper, to the point where predictions of destruction seem normal. Deepak Rauniyar, who has been the messiah of inducing humanity through his films, brings a daring motion picture from the grounds of Nepal that not only captivates with its importance but also showcases the negative shades of oppression from a jaw-dropping angle.
There’s an important background statement that needs to be glued to showcase the core principles of the film, where there exists a major divide within the Nepal community who are against the Madhesi community due to a surprising factor—their darker skin color. The frequent discrimination against these individuals sparked a nationwide race protest in 2015, which demanded a complete overhaul and made headlines across the nation. Keeping this in mind, we are introduced to Deepak’s all-time collaborative actress and wife Asha Magrati as Pooja Thapa, a detective inspector chosen to lead a kidnapping case involving two young boys in a town on the Indian-Nepal border. As racism teeters through the investigation process, Pooja starts to comprehend how oppression permeates every aspect of society, while simultaneously acknowledging the peculiarity of her case, which has revealed hidden agendas awaiting discovery.
The director’s systemic structure, which juxtaposes social and political barriers through cinema in almost every aspect, particularly the oppressions of sexuality and social hierarchies, intrigues me. Pooja’s homosexuality, which itself is a social barrier that irks for ignorance and doubts by her circle, seems to be an ongoing struggle, but that aspect somehow aligns with the racism of the Madhesi community as a twinning oppression, scorching into different magnitudes and impacts. However, Pooja’s clear vision of her motto in life doesn’t provide any space for flexibility in terms of accepting inequality, even while given a special advantage for being a fair-skinned individual. Rauniyar presses on the issue of skin color frequently, which initially started off as a supportive element but later became the core focus of how the oppression develops, embarking on a gripping pathway of comprehending Nepal’s social divide. The ideology that prioritizes racism over humanity appears to permeate the nation, further undermining the professionalism of civil servants. This is particularly evident in the procedural sphere, where obstacles arise due to the inefficiency and incompetence of those in higher positions. We gradually witness the process of opportunists gaining their power through silencing the ones under their control, even in respectable departments, which reminds me of Sandhya Suri’s Santosh that projected a similar scenario. However, Rauniyar’s vision here is nuanced and never straightforward, as there are multiple branches of oppressions that are centered through the procedural case, involving multiple perceptions and individualistic ideologies pertaining to the evolution of the protests.
The women’s ensemble solidifies the film’s momentum and elevates it through their exquisite performances, collaborating across various platforms and objectives. Asha Magrati as Pooja remarkably portrays a woman who is attached to her instincts, a gift that stems from her skilled ability, while also balancing her personal life with love and responsibilities with ease. Her excellent performance flawlessly portrays her strict principles of presenting herself confidently to the public, demonstrating her unwavering dedication to cinema at its peak. Nikita Chandak‘s portrayal of Mamata, a local Madhesi policewoman characterized by her serious demeanor and unwavering focus on change, Reecha Sharma‘s portrayal of the headmaster, who asserts dominance over her decisions and remarks, and Aarti Mandal‘s portrayal of Saraswati, who conceals her ongoing plight and trauma within herself, provided the film with the impetus to soar to greater heights, similar to a shooting star bursting with amazement. It’s almost comparable to how the main actresses in Emilia Perez were all given equal credit as best actresses at the Cannes Film Festival this year, which can be viewed with the same lens of boldness here.
Pooja, Sir is a cinematic voice that transcends years of agony among the nation and stings with clarity and absolute honesty, thanks to Rauniyar’s visionary direction and dedication to dispersing the eternal truth. The film clamps to the cores of Orizzonti in full circle, almost being the biggest snub at the Venice Film Festival this year. The investigative procedure does not conform to a neo-noir thriller, but it fully immerses itself in an empathetic socio-political narrative, resisting the blame game and violent traps set for the oppressed communities. The film boldly confronts the demons of injustice through various facets, which may not directly align with the procedural case but ultimately enriches audiences by allowing them to witness the process with complete clarity. Meanwhile, the inclusion of the impactful ending, which seems like an earthquake of truths, generates an emotional magnitude from which one can never fully recover.
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