Government Rule can be hectic !!
Movie: Mrs. Chatterjee vs. Norway
Cast : Jim Sarbha, Neena Gupta, Anriban Bhattacharya, and Rani Mukerji
Rating: 7.4\10😮😊
You know how certain inspired-by-true-events films are so cutting and riveting that as a viewer, you stop caring about the authenticity - the creative liberties - of the narrative? You recognize that the tuning of storytelling is sometimes required to portray the essence of life. Some portions are amplified, while others are modified without affecting the overall reality. There are numerous modern instances, including Spotlight (2015), Talvar (2015), Neerja (2016), and, most recently, Trial by Fire (2023). Mrs. Chatterjee vs. Norway, directed by Ashima Chibber, is not that film. In fact, the picture is so loud and overdone that, as a viewer, you lose interest in the narrative's creative sacrifices.
Mrs. Chatterjee vs. Norway is based on the book 'The Journey of a Mother' by Sagarika Chakraborty, an Indian immigrant whose children were seized by the Norwegian Child Welfare Services (Barnevernet) in 2011 on the grounds of mistreatment. This film is based on the woman's torturous two-year odyssey, which includes a publicly reported intervention from India's Ministry of External Affairs, as well as a legal battle with both the Norwegian government and her husband's family. Debika Chatterjee (Rani Mukerji) is her name here, Aniruddha (Anirban Bhattacharya) is her spouse, and Barnevernet has been renamed Velfred. It's a story fraught with social conflict.
There is an inherent opportunity to explore not only the discriminatory flaws of 'First World' systems, but also the dysfunctionality of South Asian parenting. In some ways, both sides are complicit, but neither is held accountable by a film that refuses to dwell on subtext. There are signs of a child welfare scam, but there is no deeper understanding of it. At times, you want to side with the authorities in order to save the children from turbulent parents and a destructive marriage. However, the characteristically desi quality of portraying an underdog protagonist in every way imaginable robs the plot of complexity and challenging conflicts.
As a foreigner seeking a better life, Debika is denied the dignity of complexity and flaws in the movie "Debika Vs. The Rest of the World" because of this. Sometimes her two children, who are the true victims of this entire scandal, are reduced to mere footnotes. They are ruthlessly moved from foster care to adoption centres to new parents and nations, yet they continue to serve as a tool for Debika to express her longing. In the end, it becomes difficult to support the adults because it seems that no one is aware of the mental toll that the children are bearing. It unintentionally reflects the absurdity of a time when nations and organisations fight wars to protect the futures of their helpless children.
In these films, the mainstream tone serves as a statement of violence in addition to being aesthetically pleasing. A intriguing contrast between the orderly nurturing practises of the West and the chaotic loving practises of India.
Debika is praised for adhering to stereotypes of the typical Indian mother, which include co-sleeping, using her hands to feed, ignoring the onset of autism, and being bossy. This movie, however, is focused on implying that no matter how loud and intransigent, a mother's love must resemble that of the motherland. If you're curious, the national anthem appears near the conclusion. In a way, it explains India's well-known relationship with generational trauma since it takes a naively emotional position rather than a dispassionate one.
The fact that Mrs. Chatterjee Vs. Norway follows the same tactic of generating and demonising antagonists in order to elevate the hero should come as no surprise given that both films are nationalistic parodies. For instance, the Velfred agents—especially two blonde women—are portrayed as Bond villains who are misplaced in the story; their nasty grins, chuckles, and eye rolls are on par with those of the villains in a teen high-school drama. Debika's spouse initially strikes the audience as an intriguing character - a troubled partner and an honest aspirer at the same time; a monster lurking in plain sight - but quickly devolves into a moustached villain who uses the word "citizenship" far too frequently.
Because they're being cruel, the Norwegian judges sound German and Russian. The in-laws of Debika behaved like characters from 1990s Bollywood films including Bindu. In the process, the film's desperate attempt to canonise Debika consumes her setting. The few brilliant scenes—such as one in which Debika barely notices the Northern Lights while being taken back from a police station and another in which she slaps her spouse in response to him slapping her—are overshadowed by a bombardment of uninspired cliches. A female lawyer is defeated by the flamboyant arguments of an Indian judge (played by Barun Chanda) who is supposed to sound like Master Shifu giving a voiceover about maternal strength. Even the infrequent Hindi film scenes of a woman nursing her infant are drowned out by the sadness song's continuous beats.
Mukerji's role lies at the heart of this high-pitched jumble. The issue with portraying Debika as a victim at all costs is that the movie sees her in the same light as Aniruddha and the Norwegian government do: as an idiot in a sari. Throughout a large portion of the movie, she either breaks down, is tricked, or shows up with an optimistic face just before being tricked. To put it another way, the movie condescends to Debika, dehumanising her yet refraining from making her into a stereotype of a person with a disability, because it thinks a housewife's difficulty is founded in her incapacity to live in the outside world. The red flag is evident in the manner in which the movie begins: Debika chases after a Velfred automobile while screaming and sobbing, recalling the image of Paro running towards the gates of her mansion in the closing scenes of Devdas (2002).
The fact that Mukerji's performance seems like it belongs to the obnoxious background music doesn't help. Her choice of language is particularly startling; she uses Bengali like a foreigner attempting to speak Bengali, Hindi like someone copying Mamata Banerjee, and terrible English like an urban artist trying to sound rural. You get the impression that Debika's linguistic identity is seen by Mukerji as a symptom of her intellectual identity being compromised, and the movie is only too pleased to go along with this interpretation. Too frequently, a lack of linguistic restraint is interpreted as a lack of emotional restraint.
In keeping with this level of nuance, Debika is also introduced as someone who cooks luchi-aloor dum while humming the Rabindrasangeet, which is most famously heard in Satyajit Ray's secluded-housewife masterpiece Charulata (1964). It's true that this film uses big metaphors and jabs meant to appeal to the masses. A soldier in this violent movie fights his war with his heart rather than his body. Mrs. Chatterjee Vs. Norway paints itself into a corner and becomes a top contender for cinematic deportation even by these distorted standards. Even though it's difficult to go wrong when a mother fights for justice, the film does so poorly that I cringed through the majority of it. The casual reading of cross-cultural creases makes it transcend national boundaries even though it starts in Norway and concludes in Kolkata. A video used as evidence in court at one point appears to have been expertly altered to show images from both sides of a glass door. No one even blinks. Somewhere in there, a metaphor for glass houses is used. I'm scared that if I say it out loud, the movie might use me as a cranky Indo-Norwegian reporter who is jailed for questioning the truth rather than the fictionalisation of the truth in its plot.
