WATCH THE TRAILER HERE
First, the Recap:
Those whom we gravitate to. Life already holds enough challenges as it is, much less when we’re children still attempting to ascertain the realities of what’s around us, perhaps to understand more what it is to be alive and discovering all that we could accomplish, whether through our parents or from others close to us that we trust. When we’ve found that particular person who always finds the means to make us smile, wonder, and dream, the one thing we never wish for is to let them go or lose them. In the affluent home of local police captain Ramesh (Gaurav Saini) and his wife Sudha (Irfana Majumdar) there also resides their young daughter Anjana (Shreeja Mishra) and her brother Bhaiya (Adwik Mathur), the former of whom adores the home’s most essential servant Shankar (Jaihind Kumar) since he regales her with fantastical stories. The bond they share comes into jeopardy when an unforeseen circumstance interrupts Shankar’s life and puts his duties and commitment to the home in question.
Next, my Mind:
The ultimate winner of Best Feature Film while enjoying its Texas Premiere at the 2022 DFW SAFF sponsored by Toyota USA and hosted by Jingo Media Founder/Festival Director Jitin Hingorani and Artistic Director Ambica Dev, this 93-minute indie film effort from director Irfana Majumdar and writer/producer Nita Kumar takes its setting to 1962 Lucknow in a manner that showcases how a newly freed India isn’t necessarily as free as it should be, with the ghosts and influence of British occupation still lingering, the caste system divides causing internal strife, and the shadow of the Sino-Indian War looming. Yet, amidst this national struggle, the narrative aims to bring about a more positive, ideally lighter-hearted foray into the mix by following the life of one little girl and the house servant who she so deeply admires and turns to for the amazing stories he tells.
How this innocent and admittedly endearing bond fuels the grander story is a superb thought, even as the film doesn’t shy away from facing the actualities and sometimes more stringent aspects of daily life during these times, especially in a household ruled by a quietly but firmly authoritative couple. The thematic explorations of the social chasms present between the elite and the “lower” classes, the weight of commitment to service, the potency of needed friendship, the fire of creative inspiration, seeing the world through the eyes on innocence, confronting loss, how we cope or don’t, and perhaps even the awe of believing childhood will never end all, in this critic’s opinion, get looked at and addressed throughout the film while wrapping it in the trappings of an era when the aforementioned internal and external upheaval in the country is still a prevalent force to be felt and exist within.
Now, here’s what’s honestly hard for me to have to state–with all that the narrative had to offer and convey–I didn’t feel any kind of real connection to the film at all, as it fell flat for me. While I could perfectly support the story itself, loved the concept, and EXPECTED to be swept up in it, there just wasn’t an overall sense of tangible resonance. Mind you, this actually isn’t a statement of “I hated the film”, but with all the potential here to immerse us with an atmosphere that provided a combination of both charmingly delightful and compellingly sobering dramatic impact, that didn’t happen for me. Even when a key moment of pivotal importance in the tale arrived that would decidedly shift plus potentially fully dictate how more acutely stirring the film’s final act would be delivered, it instead occurred for me as something I could already see coming and hence the inner reverberations I would have thought to experience weren’t present either. Again, I am so overtly surprised to have ended up feeling this way about a film I was anticipating.
Performances here were still very well-executed starting with Kumar’s turn as the film’s title character Shankar, a long-standing servant in a prosperous home who has more than proven his worth to the family in a myriad of ways through his absolute dedication to his given duties. Almost loyal to a fault, Shankar seems to appreciate his standing though one cannot help but feel there is a sense of weight upon his shoulders that he may not actually wish to endure. When circumstances arise that dictate he return to his home village, the manner in which he leaves the home is strained, as he’s seen as a priceless commodity there, and perhaps there within lies the issue? Either way, his affection and commitment to the family’s young daughter is so genuine and heartfelt, and Kumar solidly embodies the level of sincere care and true humility the character portrays as well as an understated but present degree of weariness as well.
Mishra also does a fine job through her role as Anjana, a little girl with a highly adept, curious, and creative mind and manner who relishes hearing the stories Shankar weaves for her, even as she tends to follow him around everywhere. A child attempting to find a place in a country suffering from the growing pains of independence, Anjana strives to learn all she can while expressing herself through writing and allowing her mind to wander to the fantasy lands Shankar shares. When he is called away, the impact it has on her is palpable, as is the overt joy when he returns. It’s a story of friendship of a different magnitude and unique depth that illustrates the power of connection between us as human beings and also paints a portrait of caste/class divisions melting away into nothing so that all that is left IS the genuineness of that bond. Mishra is undeniably adorable in her portrayal of Anjana, lending a believability and impeccability to the character.
Saini is a study in calmly delivered intensity through his role as Ramesh, the local police captain who runs his force with utmost authority and commanding presence, a strait-laced, no-nonsense man who loves his family but always remains in that state of duty-bound vigilance. He spends due time with his family yet still seems to constantly be about work, not to the point of ignoring them, but just spending enough time to be present while maintaining his office. Majumdar adds an even more dominant air to the proceedings through her role as Sudha, Ramesh’s wife and a woman who assuredly knows how to get things achieved in the household, often at the expense of the staff whom she holds under a firm hand. A voice of both challenge and reason to Ramesh, she treasures her children and does her best to nurture them while also being occupied with her own activities. It seems clear she really runs the home, and Majumdar exudes this quiet yet fiery demeanor quite well throughout the film.
Supporting roles are plenty, including Mathur as Anjana’s little brother Bhaiya, those playing household staff, police officers, and others. So, in total, “Shankar’s Fairies” has an affecting tale to tell of friendship’s sway, the irreproachable beauty of childhood, and a host of other worthy thematic tangents but just didn’t quite find its emotive footing, tone, or launching point into the engaging realms this critic felt it should have possessed to make it a great film, even in view of the intentionally more muted ambiance it delivers. I still greatly applaud Majumdar and Co. for simply presenting a finished indie feature to share, as this alone is not an easy thing to accomplish, and anyone who thinks otherwise should try stepping behind the camera and create one. I am happy for the film’s win at DFW SAFF and wish it nothing but the best, as it merely came up short for this critic.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!
