When
we
first
enter
the
evocative
macrocosmic
world
of
Kiran
Rao's
Mumbai,
one
of
the
characters
has
already
snuffed
out
her
life.
We
don't
know
that.
We
only
know
what
Arun
the
whimsical
elitist
painter
Arun
(Aamir
Khan)
knows
about
this
artless
Muslim
woman
in
the
heartless
city
of
Mumbai
which
embraces
everyone
and
favours
none.
Dhobi
Ghat
is
an
immensely
cryptic
yet
convincing
exploration
of
four
unfinished
dissatisfied
lives
in
pursuit
of
a
life
beyond
the
present.
Mumbai
is
a
city
in
timeless
transition.
This
film
captures
that
intangible
feeling
of
characters
being
trapped
in
state
of
intermediary
that
you
thought
could
never
be
put
in
a
film.
Dhobi
Ghat
makes
emotions
visible
on
camera.
You
catch
the
characters
feeling
their
feelings
when
they
think
no
one
is
looking.
Every
protagonist
wants
to
move
to
a
new
emotional
and/or
economic
level
of
existence.
Arun,
a
lately
divorced
painter
would
like
to
melt
that
icy
coldness
that
he
has
secreted
around
his
heart.
Shai
(Monica
Dogra)
the
anything-but-shy
NRI
wants
to
discover
the
"real" Mumbai
through
her
camera
lens.
She
is
the
Indian
tourist
looking
for
'home'.
Munna
(Prateik
Babbar)
the
most
layered
migrant
in
the
plot
is
the
dhobi
who
wants
to
be
Salman
Khan.
He
wears
tee-shirts
with
pictures
of
rock
bands
like
the
Doors
but
is
clueless
about
how
to
crack
the
rock
his
own
stock.
Munna
links
all
the
characters
together
in
a
splendid
snarl
of
complex
emotions.
And
Yasmin
(Kirti
Malhotra)…Poor
innocent
Yasmin.
All
she
ever
wanted
from
Mumbai
was
a
sense
of
belonging
in
an
alien
city.
Her
cognac-eyes
imploring
her
kid-brother
in
the
video-recording
to
not
mind
the
fact
that
she
has
lost
her
joie
de
vivre
in
a
city
that
has
no
space
for
the
sensitive.
And
yet
Mumbai-God
bless
its
all-accommodating
cosmopolitanism-is
not
portrayed
as
a
hostile
city.
The
warmth
and
cross-cultural
camaraderie
comes
across
in
the
film
through
portrayals
of
individuals
lost
in
the
most
crowded
parts
of
Mumbai
and
yet
somehow
seeking
and
finding
a
sense
of
belonging
within
the
feeling
of
acute
isolation
that
hits
you
the
minute
your
feet
touch
the
magical
mystical
metropolitanism
of
Mumbai.
Tushar
Kanti
Ray's
camera
stares
languidly
at
Mumbai
with
curious
eyes.
We
see
the
city
in
all
its
isolating
yet
all-encompassing
splendour.
The
visuals
would
be
called
breathtaking
in
their
evocativeness
if
they
were
not
so
true
to
life,
almost
documentary-like
in
their
search
for
the
authentic
voice
and
visuals.
Barring
Aamir
Khan
all
the
faces
are
appropriately
new.
Monica
Dogra
for
example,
who
plays
the
camera-wielding
class-challenged
love-seeker
from
the
US,
is
no
actor.
And
that's
the
best
compliment
we
can
pay
her.
Kriti
Malhotra
on
the
other
hand
who
plays
Yasmin
the
city's
migrant
casualty
is
more
of
an
'actor' probably
because
she
is
only
seen
on
the
video
camera
with
which
she
shot
her
'letters'
to
her
brother
that
Arun
discovers
when
he
moves
into
a
new
home,
a
new
beginning,
a
new
hope.
He
finally
flees
the
haunting
memories
of
Yasmin's
life,
without
leaving
forwarding
address.
This,
as
we
all
know,
often
happens
in
Mumbai.
The
city
is
like
that
only.
Every
character
in
Dhobi
Ghat
is
in
constant
search
of
a
different,
though
not
necessarily,
better
life.
In
her
95-minute
narration
Kiran
Rao
packs
in
an
eternity
of
expressed
and
unexpressed
emotions.
Indeed
she
is
a
master
of
silences
with
long
stretches
of
the
soundtrack
being
devoted
to
the
sounds
of
quietude.
Dammit,
even
the
outstanding
background
score
by
Gustavo
Santaolalla
is
used
with
rigorous
austerity.
It
is
as
though
Rao
won't
let
her
passion
for
understatement
be
overruled
by
her
overwhelming
love
for
the
city
of
Mumbai.
Each
actor
abandons
all
the
skills
and
artifice
of
acting.
Aamir's
Arun
is
underlined
by
slanted
suggestions
of
angst.
He
is
the
painter
who
paints
his
pain.
And
not
for
financial
gain.
Aamir
courts
the
canvas
with
a
blend
of
vulnerability
and
warmth.
Prateik
Babbar
is
quite
simply
the
most
prized
discovery
in
recent
times
alongside
Ranbir
Kapoor.
His
eyes
and
smile
communicate
a
wealth
of
undefinable
emotions.
The
way
he
breaks
into
a
hint
of
smile
when
Shai
calls
him
handsome
or
in
the
film's
dying
moments
when
in
a
moment
of
heroic
self-abnegation
he
gives
over
his
right
to
love
Shai,
Prateik
proves
himself
a
delightful
little
interpreter
of
delicate
emotions.
The
narration
is
stylish
and
yet
totally
free
of
affectations.
The
characters
are
people
you've
met
on
the
streets
of
Mumbai
even
if
you
don't
live
in
the
city.
And
yet
they're
special.
Not
because
they
are
so
wonderfully
framed
and
photographed
in
postures
utterly
bereft
of
camera
consciousness.
Not
only
because
debutant
director
Kiran
Rao
knows
her
characters
and
how
to
interweave
their
lives
into
a
story
offers
unlimited
scope
for
enigma
intrigue
and
multitudinous
interpretations.
There's
something
far
more
profound
and,
yes,
pure
at
work
here.
This
is
cinema
verite
at
its
most
honest.
The
lucidity
of
Kiran
Rao's
vision
emerges
from
layers
of
complex
emotions
buried
in
the
heritage
of
Mumbai.
Dhobi
Ghat
is
like
that
rich
tapestried
melody
whose
metre
and
rhythm
you
cannot
ever
forget
even
though
the
lines
may
be
forgotten.
A
nostalgic
elegiac
enigmatic
journey
into
the
heart
and
soul
of
Bombay
before
the
city
became
Mumbai
it's
a
splendid
slice-of-life
film
with
no
camera
consciousness
visible
in
any
of
the
characters.
This
is
cinema
at
its
purest
shot
in
places
where
cameras
are
not
allowed.
What
a
glorious
start
for
Indian
cinema
this
year!
Story first published: Monday, January 24, 2011, 9:29 [IST]