Review By- Ashwani Kumar
Mrs. will start streaming from February 7 on Zee5 and after watching it, you might find yourself pondering the familiar. This isn’t a story you haven’t heard before; it echoes the themes of ‘The Great Indian Kitchen’ and resonates with the daily realities of countless homes. So, the question arises: Why tell this story yet again?
The answer lies in the necessity of repetition. It’s a reminder for those moments when we ask our mothers, sisters-in-law, or wives to prepare a meal. It prompts us to consider the effort behind the request. This film serves as a quiet reflection on the lives of the women who manage our homes. They have their own dreams, their own weariness, their own needs that are often eclipsed by the constant cycle of fulfilling ours.
‘The Great Indian Kitchen,’ released four years ago, talked about these very issues, sparking conversations and opening eyes. While it resonated with many, its reach, particularly in the Hindi heartland, is now amplified with Mrs.
Mrs. is an adaptation of The Great Indian Kitchen by Anu Singh Choudhary, Harman Bajwa, and Aarti Kadav (who also directed it). They’ve made some small but important changes to Jeo Baby’s original story. In Mrs., the husband isn’t a school teacher. He’s a gynecologist, who understands the female body. But even though he’s a doctor, he doesn’t understand his wife’s feelings.
The movie shows a family that looks modern on the surface, but husband Diwakar actually thinks just like his dad, who’s is also a retired doctor. Diwakar believes his wife’s job is to take care of the house. He thinks she should do what his mother did, which was to do everything without complaining. He expects her to cook, clean, do housework and be there for him whenever he wants.
The kitchen in Mrs. is a little nicer than the one in The Great Indian Kitchen. It has more windows and newer appliances. But even with a nicer kitchen, the basic problems faced by a woman remains the same. The father-in-law still wants his chutney made the old-fashioned way, on a grinding stone. This shows the clash between old ways and new ways. And even with a better kitchen, some things are still broken, like the leaky pipe that drips dirty water.
Richa, the wife, loves to dance and wants to be free. But she’s stuck doing the same things at home every day. She tries hard to manage the house and get along with everyone, but it’s tough. Cooking all the time, making rotis and phulkas over and over, wears her down. The broken sink in the kitchen is like her own voice, which no one hears. The dripping dirty water reminds everyone of the problems that are always there.
It’s in these small, everyday moments that the film’s power lies. When the phulka burns and she tries to make a better one, it’s like a symbol. It makes you think about why it’s important to tell these stories again and again.
Mrs. isn’t a fun, escape-from-reality movie; it holds a mirror to our own kitchens, reminding us of the labor, the smells, the sticky residue of cooking oil – the very things that often sour the experience, despite the deliciousness of the final dishes. True change, the film suggests, requires a thorough cleaning, not just of the kitchen, but of our minds as well.
Aarti Kadav, the director, tells the story really well from Richa’s point of view. The music could have been better and the background music is just okay. But the movie is really good at showing what life is like for a middle-class family and the way they filmed inside the house feels real.
Sanya Malhotra is amazing as Richa. She’s a great dancer, and her face shows all the different things she’s feeling inside. Nishant Dahiya is good in his role too. But Kanwaljit Singh, who plays the father-in-law, is really impressive. He plays a man who seems modern but still believes in old traditions. He makes the movie even more powerful.
Mrs. is a movie you should watch with the women in your family – your mom, your wife, your sister, your aunt. It’s a way of saying thank you for all the things they do, even though they don’t get thanked. It’s a thank you, disguised as a movie.
