Every sports movie needs a twist. The twist, here, is that, in attempting a comeback, the protagonist becomes a symbol for many people (especially women) whose dreams were thwarted by reality.
Spoilers ahead…
Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari’s Panga opens in the bedroom of a Bhopal-based couple. Jaya (Kangana Ranaut) and Prashant (Jassi Gill) are asleep — but neither of them is sleeping restfully. She keeps kicking him. He groans, moves to another position, goes back to sleep — until the next kick. The scene is a metaphor, clearly, but for what? Jaya was a damn good kabaddi player, the captain of the Indian team, and now, she’s working at the ticket counter of a railway station. Is she lashing out against Prashant, who she loves (they make an appealing couple) but who has also made her a “wife”, with the attendant compromises? Is she lashing out against her crabby boss, who likes to remind her that her glory days are behind her and she’s, now, just another railway employee?
Or is she unconsciously lashing out against her son, Adi (Yagya Bhasin), who has a weak immune system and has to be monitored constantly? The scene after the boy is born is a beauty. Until then, Jaya has had a dream life. Her mother (Neena Gupta) and Prashant support her career, and even when she’s pregnant, it is understood that she will be back at play as soon as she can. But when the baby is born preterm, everything changes. The doctor says someone needs to look after him all the time, and looking at the helpless infant through the glass wall, Jaya promises him that she will be that someone.
This is a marvellous bit of writing (by the director and Nikhil Mehrohtra). Had Jaya chalked out a schedule with Prashant, he would have agreed — because he agrees to everything. Jassi Gill is a most agreeable actor, and he plays the planet’s most agreeable husband. Years later, watching his son and wife step out of their house, he calls out, “Bye laddu. Bye Adi.” The cho-chweet term of endearment is for her — he really loves her. But staring at her newborn, something inside Jaya makes her decide that caring for him is her job, hers alone. Call it a woman’s DNA. Call it millennia of maternal conditioning. And Adi replaces kabaddi as her enduring obsession.
The scene is great for another reason. It also shows us that Prashant went along with this decision. We aren’t told if they argued about it or if he tried to convince her to return to kabaddi — but I got the feeling that these extraordinary circumstances made Prashant revert to millennia of paternal conditioning. Because later, when Jaya does attempt a comeback for Adi’s sake, he tells her to play along for a while, and then gently tell Adi it’s not going to be possible. It doesn’t occur to him that she may not be play-acting, that she may really want to play again. I wouldn’t call him a chauvinist, exactly. He just comes across as a nice man with a nice family and a nice daily routine that he doesn’t want to break.
Every sports movie is predictable. Every sports movie, therefore, needs a twist. The twist in Panga is that, in attempting a comeback, Jaya becomes a symbol for many people (especially women) whose dreams were thwarted by reality. You might say a lot of these beats were in Saand Ki Aankh, too, but that was a more rousing film — it wore its empowerment labels more brazenly. Panga is quieter. Jaya wants to do this not for “womanhood” but because she discovers that she doesn’t love herself as much as she loves Prashant and Adi. A dam bursts inside Jaya when she says this — she breaks your heart.
In a broad sense, Panga isn’t so much a sports movie as one about second chances. It’s for everyone who let go of something because that was the “practical thing to do”, but now wants to scratch that itch again. The detailing is marvellous. I loved that, even at 32, Jaya’s body has slowed down. It reminded me of how we keep talking about Federer and Nadal, as though they are dinosaurs, when they’re not even 40 yet. Despite these overtones, I wouldn’t call Panga a deep, prickly movie. Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari doesn’t do deep. There’s a bouncy sense of camaraderie — from the neighbour, from Jaya’s mother — that keeps the family afloat even when Jaya is off training in Kolkata. And Richa Chadda plays a fairy godmother, always looking out for Jaya. The film is an easy watch, in other words.
But that’s not a knock. This is easily the director’s best work. Earlier, in both Nil Battey Sannata and Bareilly Ki Barfi, there was a facileness, a glibness. The films looked like they were competing in the Cute Olympics. Every scene clicked shut just so, like the locks on a suitcase. But Panga feels lived-in. The rhythms are relaxed and the scenes breathe. Consider the stretch where Adi apologises to Jaya, who is sleeping. It isn’t actually a “scene”. Nothing “happens”. A potential “scene” is reduced to a terrific “moment” when she pulls him to sleep, beside her. Of course, it may also be that, for the first time, Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari has a genuinely intuitive actress. Kangana can be loud and annoying and abrasive on screen, and I adore that brittleness — it’s what sets her apart. But when she whispers, she’s even better. Jaya may be the kabaddi player, but Kangana is the weightlifter. When in form, she hoists entire films on her shoulders.
Copyright ©2020 Baradwaj Rangan. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Srinivas R
January 31, 2020
What a wonderful closing line…
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Vishakha
January 31, 2020
” like the locks on a suitcase.”
Realized when I read this line that its been a while since I heard the locks on a suitcase..Do they make like that anymore?
Great read as always.
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Anu Warrier
January 31, 2020
I watched the trailer and wanted to watch this – Kangana is a fantastic actress, and you’re right – this is the story of ‘everywoman’. Your review is one of your best, too. You made me feel the movie and that makes me want to watch it all the more.
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brangan
January 31, 2020
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Doba
January 31, 2020
I am a working mother who had an extreme pre-term baby a few years ago. When it happened, something fundamentally snapped inside me. I felt terribly guilty seeing my tiny child in the NICU. I became angry with my body and felt that there was never anything that I could do to make it up to my child. It sounds like what you have described here.
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brangan
February 1, 2020
Doba: Thank you for that comment.
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brangan
February 1, 2020
Vishakha: Now that I think about it, will millennials even understand that metaphor? 😀
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Anu Warrier
February 1, 2020
Doba, I empathise. 😦 The anger, guilt and yes, sometimes the resentment remain. Perhaps that’s why the trailer resonated.
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Vijay
February 1, 2020
But when she whispers, she’s even better.
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Madan
February 1, 2020
Re locks on suitcase, I guess those huge travel bags intended for international flights still do have combination locks. But the office briefcase, yes, laptops have driven it to extinction.
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Doba
February 3, 2020
Anu, Thank you for your kindness.
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oceanreez
February 5, 2020
Hi BR, Did u checkout Jersey? a sports movie on the similar line
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chalatmusafir
February 6, 2020
“… when she whispers, she’s even better…”
Yes. Go back to WOH LAMHE and watch the scene where she pleads with her partner, “.. let’s go home.. I ‘ll cook for you..”
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Amit Kumar
February 14, 2020
Panga is definitely worth watching, a wonderful ode to mothers… and is very inspirational… loved every bit of the movie. A heartening story on never giving up on one’s dreams, told with conviction and coupled with powerful performance by Kangna is what makes the movie so endearing. Kudos to the director for taking up the subject.
(a) The will to try (b) and the belief that it is actually possible — these are the only two things that one needs to accomplish one’s dreams!
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Madan
March 29, 2020
Finally watched this, one of the occasions when I did get to read your review (properly) after watching. Somehow this film didn’t set the BO on fire. Wonder why because it was a wonderful watch. Yes, it’s rather light but that’s most of the multiplex genre. Not like the critics bashed this film. Most of the reviews were positive and it earned 3 stars from the miserly Shubra Gupta. Kangana Ranaut is brilliant yet again. She is able to fit into roles without having to change her appearance much because she understands the importance of body language and uses it well. She inhabits a character (as opposed to look ma I am acting); she does this particularly well in the first half when she’s still Jaya the harried mother and not Jaya the ‘crazy’ dreamer.
One point about the scenario of coming back after a long hiatus, especially motherhood. The India Today review chose to harp on this aspect as unrealistic:
https://www.indiatoday.in/movies/bollywood/story/panga-movie-review-kangana-ranaut-takes-panga-and-gets-it-right-1639768-2020-01-24
I think if the reviewer had looked past Serena and considered the case of Clijsters, she would have found it less unrealistic. Clijsters first retired from the game in 2005 after winning her first slam, the US Open, that year, having choked and frittered away her chances previously. She then got married and had a baby in 2008. She came back in 2009 and went on to win three more slams through to 2011. In 2012, she retired for the second time. She came back again earlier this year. This time, she had evidently not gotten back into shape in time and physically could not keep up with current players (no shame in losing in an 8-6 tiebreak in the second set to AO runner up Muguruza) but it’s not insurmountable. She still has her magnificent skills and continues to manufacture strokes when allowed time to by her opponents.
And I would also differ with the reviewer and say that kabaddi is less taxing for a 30 something player than tennis. Strength is not what goes with the twenties, speed does. Kabbadi is less professional and competitive on a worldwide level than tennis and requires less speed in comparison. You look at pugilistic or strength based sports and you will see that players have succeeded in their 30s, it’s not unprecedented. Lennox Lewis defended his heavyweight champion tag for the last time at the age of 35. Mary Kom is still active and 37. Won Gold at the Commonwealth. Maybe the timeline shown in Panga may be unrealistic but the idea of a comeback into kabbadi at Jaya’s age is not.
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RaghuM
April 7, 2020
When will writers realize that women aspire to become more than sportspeople or entertainers? There are quite a few stories about women entering the sports world, but what about the challenges of being a tech entrepreneur, a chef, or a real estate investor? Statistically, there are WAY more women in India who face challenges in fields that have no relation to sports, and it would be great to see challenges that more women actually face in cinema.
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