I was a mere 10 year old when the Jessica Lall case first erupted and permanently branded itself into public consciousness. I was too young to understand its complete implications right then, and was even baffled at the uniformly strong reactions the case elicited from everyone around me. The case went on long enough for me to catch up. By the time it reached its preposterous verdict, I, like most others, was seething with indignation. But, unlike most others, my rage was impotent. It did not translate into anything. Thankfully, the rage of thousands did translate into the case being re-opened, fast tracked by the Delhi High Court, and the accused finally being sentenced fittingly.
‘No One Killed Jessica’, the film based on the same case, deftly captures the zeitgeist of those times, in terms of the anger, injustice, betrayal and absurdity felt by the public. It does really well in offering glimpses into the most burning issues of that time, namely the Kargil War and the IC-814 hijacking, alongside the central case. Where it falters, however, is in the execution of the material especially the depiction of the investigations and the courtroom sequences. These are portrayed in the manner of old-school potboilers, albeit with some piquant dialogues. Too loud, too offensive, needlessly dramatic. The characters, especially those on the side of the main accused, are again portrayed as caricatures and, I suspect, coloured by self-righteous anger. Note the repetitive entry of the mother of the chief accused who just whines about getting her son back. The only reason she is there in the film is to provoke the scornful anger of the audience. Agreed, the accused, once found guilty, does not deserve clemency, but repeatedly showing the mother irrationally whining for her errant son simply to elicit disdain from the audience is totally uncalled for.
Another glitch is Rani Mukherjee’s character, that of the firebrand journalist. Or rather, her performance. She wears her bitchiness/truculence on her sleeve as if it were a regal insignia, an affirmation of her supremacy in this world. Her attitude towards everyone around her, bar none, is a condescending one. Rani plays it full of hot air, swearing non-stop, generally giving everyone hell, her act pitched high. An icier, more hard-nosed, wry, cynical approach would have greatly helped. Nevertheless, she performs the role with great relish.
In contrast, Vidya Balan’s act is surprisingly subdued. Playing Sabrina, Jessica’s sister, who fought almost singlehandedly to claim justice for her, Vidya is a delight to watch, both in terms of performance and characterisation. At the beginning, she appears aptly stunned and furious at the shocking demise of her sister. Later, as the case drags on and it takes a toll on her and her family (she loses her mother and almost loses her father) we see her exhausted, weary to her bones. She follows the case right to its shocking verdict. Seeing her sister’s killers go scot-free so flagrantly, after seven long years of fighting for justice, she is just numb. Forced into being immune to it all. That sense of dullness and torpor is so well conveyed by Vidya Balan, we actually mistake it for lacklustre acting on some occasions. Until the confrontation scene between Rani and Vidya, when the latter summons her last reserves of strength just to convey her pent-up frustration and grief. It reminds us that the women we celebrate as being of substance are human too. The film is not shy to offer us that all-too-rare insight into Sabrina Lall. She is only jolted out of her apathy by the potent anger of a host of people across the country, galvanised into action (as the film suggests) by the forceful rhetoric of Rani’s character. A superb scene in this regard would be the one in which a hospital attendant for Sabrina's father sends an SMS in support of Jessica and her father thanks her for it. He then adds, 'Don't tell Sabrina, she'll get angry'. And then he smiles lovingly. The little smile of hope that this one small, selfless act brings to her father's face, the little victory that he achieves, is so spontaneous and disarming, it is genuinely moving. At the same time it serves to show the emotional states of Sabrina and her father at that point of transition perfectly.
Rajesh Sharma, as the chief investigating officer, and Neil Bhoopalam, as the key witness, turn in really compelling acts of conflicted characters torn between societal pressures and ethics in this imbroglio.
Amit Trivedi’s music and background score are simply inseparable from the movie. There is a rare maturity, an uncommon self-possession, a ‘theheraav’, as they say in Hindi, in his work for this film. Aided by Amitabh Bhattacharya’s astounding wordplay, he has crafted an album that is sheer magic. ‘Yeh Pal’, ‘Dua’, ‘Aitbaar’ are watersheds in terms of music, arrangements, vocals, lyrics and the sheer emotions that they evoke. Amitabh is one of the best lyricists working today. Just listen to his repertoire in these three songs and you’ll know what I mean. Most lyricists use words within a certain limited set. But Amitabh’s wordplay encompasses not just words repeated ad nauseam in Hindi film music, but Sanskrit, rustic Hindi colloquialisms, endemic Delhi lingo, chaste Urdu, a lot of his own innovations; quite simply, an idiom of Hindi long forgotten by Bollywood.
In terms of authenticity, the film is kind of patchy, choosing to use a few real names, but a lot of changed ones. But it follows the sequence of events quite accurately, and one can draw several parallels between real-life figures and their on-screen counterparts. One can also see several eminent personalities insinuated by their signature mannerisms, clothing, hairstyles and distinctive voices.
The biggest lesson I learnt from this case was the importance of action, and the dangers of apathy. The film portrays this one aspect spot-on. In this sense, it is a soulmate of another similarly provocative film, ‘Rang De Basanti’, a similarity that this movie acknowledges. In fact, the film portrays the role that ‘RDB’ played in arousing public opinion in this case, that was ultimately instrumental in its reopening, and subsequently triumphant closure.
For this reason alone, it is one of the most important films to come out of Bollywood, right alongside ‘Black Friday’, ‘Hazaaron Khwaishen Aisi’, ‘Parzania’, ’RDB’. And for this reason, the director deserves a huge round of applause. Rajkumar Gupta’s debut film, ‘Aamir’ was much more taut, tense and disturbing than this one. Though allegedly copied/inspired, the film echoed several real-life incidents chillingly. But thematic similarities between the two films abound. Both the films had lone protagonists thrust suddenly, unwillingly into Kafkaesque, nightmarish situations. In both cases the protagonists had to fight for their loved ones against all-powerful forces spread across the wilderness of a harsh, unforgiving cityscape. Both of them act as what they feel is right, heedless of the consequences. Both are commoners, a fact that lends their stories a certain immediacy and urgency.
I know this is somewhat irrational, but I sincerely hope that this film creates an impact similar to what ‘RDB’ created, for the sake of many more such cases currently in the courts.
