Sharmajee
Ki
Beti‘s
airy-fairy
approach
doesn’t
quite
convince.
It’s
like
the
women
are
all
angels
readily
accepting
any
change
or
transgression
while
the
men
are
either
super
supportive
or
super
schmucks,
notes
Sukanya
Verma.
Films
about
women
tend
to
be
about
fitting
in
a
man’s
world,
fighting
odds
or
finding
a
voice.
But
the
lightweight
feminism
of
Tahira
Kashyap
Khurrana’s
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti
is
steeped
in
her
just
being
herself.
It’s
not
conflict
but
assertion
of
self-worth
driving
the
everyday
experiences
and
ordinary
crisis
of
its
five
female
protagonists.
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti
opens
with
a
woman’s
voice
parroting
the
opening
words
of
the
Mahabharata
monologue
that
Doordarshan
viewers
must
be
all
familiar
with
—
Main
Samay
Hoon…
—
as
a
humorous
metaphor
for
changing
times.
But
the
problems
plaguing
most
of
the
characters
in
the
story
remain
timeworn.
A
pubescent
pair
of
teenaged
besties
(Vanshika
Taparia,
Arista
Mehta)
and
their
respective
mums
—
a
working
woman
(Sakshi
Tanwar),
a
housewife
(Divya
Dutta)
and
a
state-level
cricketer
(Saiyami
Kher)
—
form
the
quintet
of
Sharma
girls
sharing
a
common
surname
but
varying
struggles.
Warmth
and
wit
colour
the
episodes
of
growing
pangs
and
adulting
woes
across
the
strains
of
surviving
either
phase.
Swati
(Taparia)
is
an
unkempt
13
year
old,
beating
herself
too
hard
for
not
getting
her
periods
yet
while
feeling
awe
over
the
actions
of
her
sexually
active
seniors.
When
not
preoccupied
with
her
tiny
mop
of
hair,
Gurveen
(Mehta)
is
discovering
new
aspects
about
her
sexuality.
Swati’s
middle-class,
management
marvel
mum
(Tanwar)
teaches
at
a
coaching
centre
and
has
set
a
reminder
for
everything,
which
includes
‘me
time’
with
her
understanding
husband
(Sharib
Hashmi).
Gurveen’s
Patiala
transferred
mummy
(Dutta)
is
a
classic
case
of
housewife
blues,
ignored
by
her
couldn’t-care-less
husband
(Parvin
Dabas).
Between
these
typically
domestic
scenarios,
Tahira
squeezes
in
Tanvi’s
(Kher)
tomboy
cricketer,
going
out
of
her
way
to
fan
her
chauvinist
boyfriend’s
(Ravjeet
Singh)
masculine
ego.
In
less
than
two
hours,
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti
tries
to
bite
on
more
than
it
can
chew.
Tahira
has
a
flair
for
breezy,
slice-of-life
scenarios
as
witnessed
in
her
pleasing
segment
of
the
Feels
like
Ishq
anthology
but
her
film-making
lacks
technique.
And
complexity.
There’s
almost
a
scattered
quality
to
the
storytelling
that
treats
insolence
and
infidelity
in
the
same
measure.
Wanting
to
normalise
menstruation
and
homosexuality
is
always
appreciated
but
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti‘s
airy-fairy
approach
doesn’t
quite
convince.
It’s
like
they
are
all
angels
readily
accepting
any
change
or
transgression
while
the
men
are
either
super
supportive
or
super
schmucks.
Preferring
to
see
the
world
through
rose-tinted
glasses
is
all
very
well
but
the
predictability
of
the
motions
these
characters
go
through
diminishes
the
significance
of
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti‘s
goal
of
gently
smashing
the
patriarchy.
What
works
strongly
in
the
drama’s
favour
is
its
upbeat
cast
of
women
—
young
and
adult
—
seamlessly
slipping
into
their
roles,
sometimes
as
a
picture
of
grace,
sometimes
of
rebellion.
They
always
seem
to
know
what
they
want
unlike
this
slight
but
soft-hearted
movie.
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti
streams
on
Amazon
Prime
Video.
Sharmajee
Ki
Beti
Review
Rediff
Rating:
