“Piku” starring Deepika Padukone, Amitabh Bachchan and Irrfan Khan, is, as the trailer comically shows, about constipation. Really, however, the character-driven film tackles relationships between fathers and daughters by looking at a unique one in depth. The question is, does it say anything new about this dynamic or does the film merely retread old ground with a gimmicky twist?
In the two films discussed in depth so far on Women in Bollywood, the 2014 release Queen and this year’s Neerja, we see the heroines able to gain confidence and self-esteem in a context where they have positive and supportive relationships with their fathers, who offer emotional support, encourage and believe in them, and allow them to make their own decisions. Despite this relationship taking a back-seat to Neerja’s heroics or Rani’s adventures, I noted this factor when watching both films, especially so as they were both played by the same actor (Yogendra Tiku).
The fathers of Rani and Neerja contrast with some famous fathers of Hindi cinema, some memorable examples from the last 25 years are picked out below –
- Nandini’s father in ‘Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam’ (1999) – he is opposed to Nandini’s relationship with Sameer as he has already arranged her marriage with Vanraj, with the classical singer quitting singing in protest
- Zaara’s father in ‘Veer Zaara’ (2004) – Zaara cannot realise her romantic relationship with Veer due to a perceived need to protect her politician father’s reputation and the taboo around Indian-Pakistani relationships
- Jaggu’s father in ‘PK’ (2014) presumes Sarfaraz will betray Jaggu similarly due to the Indian-Pakistani divide, with the Muslim-Hindu religious angle emphasised in this film which revolves around misuse of religion
- Simran’s father in ‘Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge’ (1995) – and Raj’s attempts to win his approval forming the crux of the plot of the second half of the film
Given that father-son relationships (and to a lesser extent, mother-daughter) relationships are more commonly portrayed in culture, I would propose by referencing the examples above as evidence that the father-daughter relationship is given more prominence in Hindi cinema than other film cultures.
So against this backdrop, can we consider the relationship between Piku and Bhakshor Bhanerji as a potential new paradigm of the father-daughter relationship? I propose for discussion a motion that the film “Piku” revolves significantly around establishing a new understanding of or paradigm for father-daughter relationships in modern-day India, and this subject far outweighs the importance of the attention grabbing and more humorous theme of dealing with constipation.
The evidence for and against the motion is discussed below. The usual SPOILER alert applies here – so if you haven’t seen the film, go watch and come back. The trailer for “Piku” is below.
Exhibit A: Piku’s professional success and head of household role
Case for the motion “Piku establishes a new paradigm for father-daughter relationships”:
Piku Bhanerji, our heroine portrayed by leading lady Deepika Padukone, is shown as the breadwinner and head of household. The film demonstrates this reality unapologetically both within the film and towards the audience. The household consists of Piku and her father, Bhaskor Bhanerji, as her mother has passed away and Piku takes care of her father in her mother’s absence. She remains a working woman however, and is shown as undoubtedly and unashamedly accomplished in her career.
Piku’s profession as an architect is interesting in that in Hollywood cinema and television the sensitive, creative but dependable romantic hero is consistently an architect by trade to the point of it becoming an absurdly boring trope. In Hindi films this trope is less common, but can even been seen seeping into the Western-influenced, multiplex-targeted films, such as ‘Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu’ where Imran Khan’s character is, you’ve guessed it, an architect.
Deciding Deepika’s character, as a new kind of heroine in Piku, would be an architect, has similar connotations of creativity combining with professional and financial success. That she is shown comfortably navigating the office environment reinforces this, whilst primarily used for the purpose of humour and establishing her dynamics with both her father Bhaskor and with Rana Chaudhary, the taxi company owner and Piku’s potential love interest. When Piku decides she needs to take a few days break from the office, her business partner Syed he questions “how am I supposed to run this firm?”, emphasising her indispensable nature to daily running of the business. Piku is not riding on anyone’s coattails.
It is worth also considering that architecture is a profession which requires years of study and sacrifice to even become qualified, beyond traditionally either marriageable age or at which most individuals have already entered the job market and are earning an income. Piku’s professional success is testament to an environment where this career choice and the time invested in studying would have need to have been supported.
Case against the motion:
A low key movie which had limited success in ‘Bewakoofiyan’ released the year before, showed Sonam Kapoor’s character Mayera as a higher earner and more successful businesswoman, and this set no new paradigm.
We also don’t see or hear too much of Bhaskor’s opinion explicitly towards Piku’s career and earnings, and it is not clear if or how he has supported her to become successful at all as this happens outside the timeline of the movie.
Exhibit B: Piku is shown as possessing a strong and unrelenting personality, and a willingness to question and challenge her father. She is presented as strong-minded and opinionated, and considered difficult to deal with by a number of different characters in the film. Notably this includes the taxi drivers reluctant to speed on her behalf, propelling the introduction and involvement of Irrfan Khan’s character, Rana Chaudhary, the owner of the taxi company.
Case in favour:
This presents a new paradigm of how fathers and daughters can love unconditionally but speak candidly. Fathers accept being challenged by their daughters and daughters do so without restraint.
Piku’s outspoken, blunt and even stubborn traits, however, are not shown as deep character flaws but rather humanise both Piku and her father, and establish their bond as somewhat similar personalities with differing but overlapping approaches and perspectives to life. Piku can understand Bhaskor even when she doesn’t agree with him, and Bhaskor can understand Piku.
Nevertheless, Piku is firmly the one in charge despite her father’s cantankerous nature. The film literally opens with her telling her father what to do. At the end of the film it is also Piku who makes the final decision about what to do with the house. Throughout the film she will openly chastise her father when she feels he is in the wrong, and whilst he will stick up for himself, his opinions and beliefs, he doesn’t deny her having her own opinions or berate her for challenging him.
Piku is shown at times as demanding, argumentative, and even aggressive. Or alternatively she is assertive, in charge, someone who knows what she wants with leadership potential. Quite remarkably for a piece of popular entertainment however, Piku is not held to a double standard for these traits as men usually aren’t (see the Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg’s campaign “Ban Bossy” or “I’m Not Bossy. I’m the Boss” for what is meant by this – [link below]):
That Piku isn’t held to this double standard by her father, believing that if he is grumpy and difficult then Piku has the right to be to, lays the foundations for this lack of a double standard in the film as a whole and in the audience perception of the characters. We as an audience are still expected to root for Piku and Bhaskor, and understand Piku’s perspective in particular as our heroine and protagonist.
Case against the motion:
Bhaskor’s cantankerous nature is a different, but ultimately equally inhibiting, obstacle to Piku’s freedom. Her response to his behaviour and how it affects her own is merely that which induced by having to live with him for years and deal with this reality on a daily basis.
Bhaskor creates a number of problems that Piku has to deal with due to his hypochondria and all round grumpiness – from the message left for Piku at the office, to his accusations and paranoia leading to changing maids 5 times in 2 months, to Piku being interrupted by updates on his [normal] condition whilst on a dinner date.
After this latter incident and Piku’s complaining that her date didn’t go well, she is asked by Syed if her father called her which she confirms. This is followed by an argument around the reaction to this response and the subtext is that Piku feels she shouldn’t have to defend caring about her father, but that Syed sees this as the reason for her disappointing date and overall singledom.
Conversations early on between Piku and Bhaskor include some revelatory lines including, in the first instance, following the latest departure of a maid working in the house:
Piku: Dad, we live in a society where we have to maintain relations with some people.
And when Piku has skipped out on a lunch date to calm her father about his hypochondria-induced health concerns:
Bhaskor: I’ve given you full freedom in this house
Piku: What freedom? I had to meet Ankit today for lunch but I’m here with you. Is this how I am going to lead my life? Discussing your shit?
Witness for the case against the motion: Rana Chaudhary
Rana Chaudhary has a number of discussions with Piku during the film where he raises the issue of how Bhaskor’s behaviour limits Piku’s freedom and questions whether she should accept this situation.
Firstly, he tries to clarify if Piku herself is like her father at all:
Rana: Tell me something, you’re really his daughter. I mean?
Piku: Yes I’m his daughter. And ten times stranger, weirder, more irritating, annoying…
Rana: No no no no. I didn’t mean that way.
Piku: No I know what you mean. I know it’s weird its ok. But I am like that.
Once they have gotten to know one another better, he still questions why she has stayed in Delhi to look after her father, asking her why she doesn’t run away and get married.
Later, during the same tour of Kolkata, with the obvious subtext of his own interest in Piku, but his acknowledgement (and likely unwillingness) to deal with her difficult father or his strong feelings against Piku marrying, he asks about her life prospects for the next 20 years, and whether she is willing to sacrifice any chance at marriage and children for her father’s sake. He doesn’t believe Bhaskor’s opposition to this is primarily due to opinions around women’s empowerment or Piku sacrificing her independence, but rather his own dependence on her and selfish concerns about losing her:
Rana: How old is your father? Must be at least 70?
Rana: And the way you’re being his doctor, he’ll be around for another 20 years. Which makes him 90.
Rana: And in the next 20 years, you’ll become 50 approximately?
Rana: 50 years? Of just taking care of your father?
Piku: One minute. Why are you saying all this? You know my situation. You know he’s dependent on me. Can’t hear or see properly. Should I leave him?
Rana: No no
Piku: How will he manage on his own?
Rana: I am not asking you to leave him. I also haven’t left my mother. I’m just saying, I hope you realise he is a selfish man
Piku: No he’s not
Rana: Yeah he is
Piku: And even if he is, he’s my father.
Rana: If he’s your father then why do you behave like his mother?
Piku: Because Rana after a certain age parents can’t live on their own, they need to be kept alive and that is the responsibility of the kids only. So if someone wants to marry me…
Rana: He’ll have to adopt your 90-year old kid too?
Piku: Of course!
Exhibit C: Bhaskor does not arrange Piku’s marriage, and not only does not stigmatise her non-marital relationships, but berates others who may do so as well.
Case in favour of the motion:
Bhaskor is keen to break taboos, and this seeps into the film more widely as well, most obviously in the explicit discussion of bowel movements in a mainstream film, but equally could be said for its frankness around marriage and sex. Piku and Bhaskor are shown as able to discuss even taboo subjects with one another, even if it is shit, marriage, or sex.
Piku has herself adopted an unapologetic attitude towards her love life, responding Syed, her business partner who questions her meeting up with a “jerk” over lunch by saying “you can’t be so desperate”. Piku’s deadpan response, “Yes, I am. So?”.
Witness in favour of the statement – Mr Bhaskor Banerji
Bhaskor makes a number of statements defending his strong opinion against Piku marrying, rather than leaving it purely to Piku to decide:
Bhaskor: [To Piku] And this. Your relationship status? If you ask me, I think casual is fine. That works for me.
And later, when discussing why he thinks getting married is a “low IQ decision” for a woman, using as evidence his wife’s own experience and the unhappiness the related loss of freedom caused her as a result:
Bhaskor: All her life she just wanted to please me. That was her only purpose. No aim for herself. I wanted her to be independent. But no, she surrendered herself in my service.
And when questioned “so what’s wrong with that?”
Bhaskor: Everything is wrong! Throwing away your identity, respect, brain, in the fire whilst taking the seven vows and then leading your life that way, well that is a low IQ decision. I don’t want Piku to take that decision.
Why he is even commenting on the matter rather than leaving the decision to Piku can be attributed rather to his overall personality and lack of tact or diplomacy – as he states “I am a critical person. Brutal and honest.”
His definition of “nice” is not that Piku isn’t moody or a virgin, rather he is proud of Piku for the following reasons, as he describes to a potential suitor:
Bhaskor: She has her own business. She’s financially independent. She’s sexually independent. Need based. Just looking for emotional partnership. So is this ‘nice’ according to you?
Whilst on the journey to Kolkata, Rana is introduced to Bhaskor’s unusual stance on marriage after Piku responds to Bhaskor’s complaining about her buying bangles during a rest stop:
Piku: You’re not going to let me get married. Let me enjoy my bangles at least.
Rana: Seriously? Most people would marry their daughters off they day they are born and he doesn’t want you to get married?
This doesn’t happen even in Western culture.
Bhaskor: Western culture is not the benchmark of progress. Is that clear?
We were ahead of them always.
Bhaskor is not short of female historical figures he admires, and can list a number quickly off the top of his head. These are the figures he has raised Piku to try to emulate, rather than valuing marrying and having children above all else. His stubbornness about this issue is to force Piku not to want things because society tells her that she should just because she is a woman:
Bhaskor: That, err, Rani Lakshmibai, Sarojini Naidu and Kandimbini Ganguly, Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, Annie Besant, all these fine women spent their whole life serving their country. And all she wants to do is please a boy?
Piku: How many times I have told you that Annie Besant wasn’t Indian?
Bhaskor: Still she fought for our country’s independence!
Rana: But all these women were married
Bhaskor explains he is not opposed to marriage per se, but rather marriages which see women sacrifice their other aims and purposes in life in favour of the needs of their husbands:
Bhaskor: Yes, but with a purpose. Marriage is not wrong but it must have a purpose. All a husband wants is that a wife should serve food during the day and sex at night. But is that what a woman is made for? No! That is why marriage without any purpose is low IQ.
When Rana’s reaction is to say that not all women are selfless individuals who willingly sacrifice their needs for others (in the case of marriage – their husbands), and that some are manipulative or scheming, Bhaskor justifies such behaviour by holding women to the same standard as men (and almost revolutionary [given its infrequent nature] yet simple, idea:
Rana: Fine but not all women are nice and simple. You don’t know. Many of them are very manipulative and scheming.
Bhaskor: Women should be scheming, it’s not wrong. Because men are like that. That’s why it’s alright for [Piku] to be scheming.
Case against the motion:
In fact Bhaskor is opposed to the idea of Piku marrying at all. Ultimately this is limiting her ability to make her own choices, or at best, putting undue pressure on her as his daughter to respect and follow her father’s wishes. How this as such in any real sense differs from Nandini’s father in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, or Simran’s in DDLJ who oppose their potential love marriages in favour of ones arranged by them is questionable. In all three cases it is the father’s opinion that matters and determines whether his daughter marries and who.
This means that despite Piku’s assertive and opinionated character, there are certain boundaries she is unwilling to cross. She is not prepared to genuinely challenge her father on the matter of getting married in particular, and this is addressed in the subtext of conversations with Rana, including the one below during the overnight stay in Varanasi, where there is an obvious comparison made with the freedom to drive. Given Rana’s character has returned from working in Saudi Arabia, where women aren’t legally allowed to drive, it addresses the issue of women’s empowerment and whether Piku is determined enough to stand up for her own freedoms and choices. It starts when Piku questions why Rana has categorised some women as ‘scheming’:
Piku: you were calling someone scheming?
Rana: Not you
Piku: Better not
I would have thrown you out of the car
Rana: How would your Dad have gotten to Kolkata then?
Piku: I would have driven
Rana: Really? Well had I known this earlier, I could have stretched for a bit
Now you drive tomorrow?
Piku: [shakes her head]
I don’t like driving
Rana: Why? What do you mean? Women in Saudi are fighting with the government for the right to drive. Even getting themselves in jail. And you say you don’t like driving. It’s weird.
Piku: Not really. Those countries are like that.
Rana: Your country is like that. Moreover, driving liberates a woman.
Piku: Are you saying all this to impress me or you really do respect women?
The next morning Piku is shown in the driving seat and Bhaskor is napping in the back of the car. When he wakes, he is both shocked and irritated to see she is driving the car rather than Rana. She attempts to convince him she is fine, but Bhaskor interjects that she’s never driven on a highway, insists she stop and switches place with Rana. After Piku pulls the car aside and gets out, he encourages her to come back by saying he was only testing her. Whilst this is Bhaskor’s way of apologising, it also sees Piku return to the car but only after handing the keys back over to Rana. In this argument she has given up.
At the end of the film, Piku is confronting her father (shouting through the bathroom door of course), finally questioning his interference in her love life and unconventional approach:
Piku: Yes I have had physical relationships but is this something he needs to tell every man I meet? Meet my daughter, she is not a virgin. Which father does this?
It is interesting to note this is when Bhaskor finally is able to go to the toilet, and after this release he passes quietly in the night. Bhaskor prided himself on supporting his daughter’s independence, frankness and outspokenness, even with him. So when she confronts him about the flaws in his approach, on the issue where she had accepted his perspective as her only possible reality, he is relieved both physically and intellectually. He has his ‘best motion’ ever and is at peace.
Exhibit D: The naming of the film after Piku, the prominence given to Deepika Padukone’s character as the definite protagonist, and the seemingly supportive cast and production company as regards issues of women’s empowerment, freedom to make their own choices and decisions, and unconditional love of families in this context. By putting the daughter centre stage, and committing to discussing such issues within the context of the film, which revolves around Piku and Bhaskor’s relationship, the cast and crew appear committed to putting across new ideas.
Case for the motion:
All of these factors look like they are clearly determined to set a new paradigm. That this superhit film, starring the internationally successful Irrfan Khan (seen in Life of Pi, Jurassic World, Slumdog Millionaire, and internationally acclaimed Hindi film, 2013’s “The Lunchbox”), and Hindi cinema’s greatest living legend in Amitabh Bachchan, is even considered a “heroine-oriented” film is somewhat remarkable.
Yet it is accurate.
Piku is the protagonist, it is her viewpoint we as an audience see most clearly, and the journey she goes on (non-literally in this meaning) is mirrored by those watching in terms of understanding her relationship with her father. Outside the film itself, Deepika Padukone was the bankable star that allowed this film to be the big success it was, drawing in huge audiences who had enjoyed her performances in previous blockbusters.
Check the collections of recent Amitabh Bachchan or Irrfan Khan movies (with Pink excluded as an outlying exception). Talvar, Madaari, Wazir, Shamitabh or Te3n did not gross anywhere near the same kind of figures as Piku. Padukone’s releases meanwhile, see there is a spike in collections wherever she features, in a way that some of her most bankable contemporaries such as Anushka Sharma (Bombay Velvet) and Kangana Ranaut (Katti Batti) have not even been able to match. Padukone is a bonafide superstar that justifies her fee and status as Bollywood’s highest earning heroine.
Shootjit Sircar and Amitabh Bachchan, meanwhile, by making and acting in “Piku”, and now mostly recently also the film “Pink” – which even more explicitly covers issues around gender equality, have set themselves as “allies” on the subject of women’s empowerment.
This stance puts them in a category with others such as ‘Cocktail’ director Homi Adajania, who also cast Deepika in a short video on women’s empowerment which released around the same time as Piku, titled “My choice” (see below):
Case against the motion:
My choice, Pink, and for the purpose of this discussion, of course “Piku” as well, arguably present themselves as providing a platform for women’s voices by putting them centre stage, but ultimately their direction and often also their words are determined by men. How a reality exists where male directors and actors are unquestionably celebrated for supporting women’s empowerment and female actors are, for example, considered as ungrateful and greedy for even mentioning the drastic pay disparity, makes it difficult for films which are directed by men and which prominently feature male icons of cinema such as Amitabh Bachchan to truly enable a platform for rather than silencing of, women’s voices.
Notably, the already beloved Mr Bachchan received his forth National Film Award for Best Actor, and superstar heroine Padukone was snubbed, a missed opportunity to award a strong performance and continued bold career choices whilst at the peak of her fame, popularity and earning potential. The role of Bhaskor Bhanerji is certainly a showier one than that of Piku, but I am going out on a limb her to give a bold opinion that Deepika Padukone’s performance is more complex, nuanced, creates a more realistic and believable character as a result, and as such was ultimately even more deserving for recognition.
Director Shoojit Sircar was also celebrated for his efforts in the film, catapulting his career to greater heights. Story, screenplay and dialogue writer Juhi Chaturvedi received less high-profile acclaim (although notably Piku won National Award also for Best Screenplay/Dialogues, these were shared with Tanu Weds Manu Returns). Whilst this is somewhat typical of an industry unaccustomed to recognising and rewarding scriptwriters, for this film in particular it is notable given the strong writing necessary for what is a character-based drama with comedic elements on a taboo and unusual subject. It is also meant that Sircar and Bachchan were celebrated for putting a woman’s words on screen in the mouth and viewpoint of a woman in Padukone as Piku.
Piku is also the only particularly prominent female character. Her two aunts, whilst memorable personalities, feature rather seldomly, and their discussions relate to Bhaskor and his attitudes or Piku’s marriage prospects and love life. That is, their discussions are about men.
Against the motion (the old paradigms still stand):
Piku is a well written, acted and entertaining movie. However, it does not establish any meaningful new ideas around the father-daughter relationship. The daughter in Piku is still constrained by her father, and his life choices, opinions, and needs come above hers and limit her freedom to do the same. Her father still believes he knows what is best for her in decisions around marriage.
Additionally, despite casting Padukone in the lead role, the film itself sees limited interaction between Piku and other women, and arguably fails the Bechdel test as a result. All of Piku’s conversations with other women in the film (with the maid and with both her aunts) revolve around discussing her father. So is it really that paradigm shifting to cast one of India’s most bankable superstars as the lead in a film just because said star happens to be a woman?
In this light any such conclusions that the director Shootjit Sircar’s and co-star and film icon Amitabh Bachchan’s support for the film and for the issue of women’s empowerment should be viewed. Whether they are genuine allies is irrelevant, as they operate in an environment where even the appearance of attempting to set new paradigms is celebrated as bold and brave for men, yet women speaking for change (such as Pakudone or Chaturvedi) are, at best, ignored, and at worst, delegitimised and demonised.
This film doesn’t represent changing father-daughter relationships any more than DDLJ does – in 1995 every Indian father didn’t suddenly start approving their Simrans to marry Rajs as Amrish Puri does at the end of the movie in a radical shift towards love marriages or in the case of Piku in 2015, a raft of fathers accepting their daughter’s professional success and not wanting them to sacrifice this freedom in favour of a husband, for example.
To return to the film, that the movie concludes with Piku free to establish a relationship with Rana due to her father’s passing is damning evidence that ultimately, her father’s wishes continue to come before hers.
The case against rests.
In favour of the motion:
The character Bhaskor Banerji is not a perfect person, or a perfect father. He is, as in his own words, a “critical person”, who is “brutal and honest”. At times this makes him particularly insensitive. His need to share his judgements and opinions at all times, even when he is seemingly sticking up for Piku or for her freedom to make her own choices and against her being held to a double standard due to her gender, can be seen as at times unnecessary at best, or at worst, patronising “mansplaining”.
Arguably the film recognises this contradiction in Bhaskor’s perspective and for the astute viewer, the irony of its portrayal can cause a sly smirk or laugh in a few key scenes. Despite all this, Bhaskor’s radical approach to raising his daughter should not be downplayed. It is through his opinionated critiques that the audience is introduced to several key arguments around the double standards many women face: when it comes to what they are prepared to sacrifice in favour of a husband, in terms of speaking their mind openly, in terms of whether they can and should be “scheming” and in terms of what is “nice” or desirable for a woman to be. These are all important points that quieter and more diplomatic male characters are curiously silent about.
Bhaskor has raised Piku to be the tough and uncompromising character that we see in the film. That she is reluctant to fully challenge him over issues which are potentially very sensitive to him such as her choosing to marry (and potentially leave the home as a result), is not necessarily something Bhaskor craves to be the case. Rather he is relieved when she finally does.
Whilst Bhaskor does not leave Piku total freedom to make her own choices, and does assert his opinions on her, he does so from a position of not wanting her to internalise society’s expectations of her due to her gender or to want something because she “is supposed to”.
One interesting example of this stubbornness against societal expectations occurs when Piku discovers Rana about a knife she discovers in the back of the car, after pondering the decision for a moment and her father evening warning her “this is very dangerous”. She appears confident in doing so. After discussing the knife’s origins, Bhaskor strongly insists Rana throw away the knife, but is confronted by Rana’s need to protect Piku.
Rana: I can’t throw [the knife]. The whole journey is left and there is a girl with us. How can I throw it?
Bhashkor: Girl? She’s my daughter.
Rana: Fine. But how can I throw it? She’s also my responsibility.
Bhashkor: You will. Otherwise I am not going.
Rana: Keep screaming.
Piku: FINE! [throws the knife herself on the ground]
OK? Now sit inside.
Bhashkor: What? No you tell him to pick this up and throw. Throw it otherwise I am not going.
Rana: I am not throwing it.
[Piku sits in the car and waits]
[After some time]
Piku: Why won’t you throw it?
[Rana looks at Piku, shakes his head and throws the knife into the field to the side of the road]
In this we see that indeed Bhaskor’s personality is dominating, he gives both Rana and Piku little room for manoeuvre. But he does so to insist his daughter is not treated differently do to her gender, even if this is supposedly “well-meaning”, as in the case of Rana seeking to protect Piku, well aware of the prevalence of gender-based violence (given they are on the highway at the time – perhaps he watched NH10!). Bhaskor rather prefers for Piku to be smart and resourceful, independent and able to take care of herself, even if this increases the risks she may be exposed to as a result.
Irrespective of these redeeming features of Bhaskor Banerji in terms of his love and respect for his daughter, it is through his flawed persona that these ideas and viewpoints are able to be heard without becoming a preachy, self-righteous public service announcement. Now that is due to astute writing, smart directing and quality acting. These things don’t happen in a vacuum and don’t happen without effort. There is therefore, a clear intent to redefine father-daughter relationships through a humanised portrayal of one such relationship, with two flawed and therefore relatable and complex characters. That the film is entertaining, well-made and acted, enables “Piku” to successfully accomplish this attempt to redefine the father-daughter relationship beyond its portrayal in any other Hindi film.
The case in favour of the motion rests.
So my jury, have you reached a verdict? (comments welcome below!)
If you made it all the way here – and found the above interesting, you may also be interested in:
- Understanding how the film “Queen” is also groundbreaking in how it subverts film convention and audience expectations
- Reading about another powerhouse performance, Sonam Kapoor’s best to date, in “Neerja” and how the film presents the protagonist as a number of different archetypes
- Checking out “Five upcoming heroine-oriented movies to look out for”
- Learning what this blog is all about in “Introducing ‘Women in Bollywood‘”