- Date of Release: 30 May 2025
- Genre: Comedy, Drama
- Language: Hindi
- Watch On: Amazon Prime Video (Rent)
Sister Midnight
Introduction
In Wake Up Sid (2009), Ayesha (Konkona Sen Sharma) wished to write a book on ‘New Girl In The City’, a thematic reimagination of her own journey through the glittery bylanes of Mumbai. But the Hindi film counters that with a lesson or two on privilege when you are first introduced to the character of Uma (Radhika Apte). Uma shifts to a ‘Kholi’ with her husband Gopal (Ashok Pathak), while finding it increasingly tough to adjust to the big bad city of Mumbai. The frustration with respect to the setting is as much of a worry for Uma, who has no experience in household chores or managing the finances of the house. To top it, her husband isn’t interested in having s*x with her too, almost being too shy and naive about his post-marital experience, unsure on how to handle the situation himself. In many ways, Sister Midnight uses this premise of an oddball couple shifting to an oddball city by thematically incorporating a deadpan drama having the soul of a Wes Anderson film, only for itself to be trapped in a city where it doesn’t fit. Imagine staging The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) and its glittering imageries in a city as bleak and grey as Mumbai. That is the kind of feeling Uma experiences even while her attempts at salvaging her marriage falls on deaf ears and deadpan expressions!
Story & Screenplay
One way of interpreting Sister Midnight can be through the feminism, except that the film offers a deconstructed take on it. For instance in a bid to ‘adapt’ to the new conditions around her, you witness Uma taking some basic cooking lessons from her neighbour Sheetal (Chhaya Kadam), both of whom bond over common grounds of loneliness. You aren’t witness to Sheetal’s husband, while Uma’s husband is missing….errr drinking, most of the time. Hence, their initial lessons include on how to make her husband happy through some good food, using the simplest ingredients. In a scene, you see Sheetal telling Uma to add a lot of spice and a lot of vegetables, and the ‘men’ would usually eat ‘anything and everything’. There is something about a small-town romance like Laapataa Ladies (2024) that prospers in the vicinity, but the moment you remove them from their ‘habitat’, you get a bizarre drama like Sister Midnight.
In that regard, this passage also acts as an oddball love story between Uma and Gopal, both of whom aren’t warmed up to each other, while only occasionally finding occasions to share a cigarette. During attempts of intimacy, Gopal only responds with a handshake, during a coaxed plan to visit a new place, a faultering itenary ruins the entire trip, during a wedding attendance, you notice the distance while getting a hint of their past. Here it must also be noted that Gopal isn’t a character boasting of toxic masculinity – he is soft, tender, but majorly confused with the situation, even as the madness quotient in the drama still stays in check! Up until Uma decides to work as a housekeeper, only to stay away from Gopal, a plan that works but for her ‘sickness’…..
The absurdist trait in the drama is directly corelated to the unexpected transformation of Uma, from a simple housewife to a humanist vampire, a direct symbolism that acts as a counter for the prevalent patriarchy in our society. The occurence is as rare as a batter being timed out in a game of cricket but it is a reference to Uma feeling the need to adjust and fit into the norms of the city based on the perceptions of the people around her, only to completely transform into someone who is unrecognisable. The part of her transforming itenary includes roaming on the streets at night, crawling up trees, relishing birds, their brains and the rodents, and maintaining their decapitated heads in a box under her bed. It almost is an unwanted byproduct of loneliness in the city that has a sickening effect on her.
The bizarre themes continue to land (mostly) throughout the drama, while extending to other characters too. This includes the presence of an intrusive neighbour Reshma (Smita Tambe) who along with her husband, suddenly intrude a moment of revelation between Uma and Gopal. In the next scene, you witness Uma taking their dog on a walk but almost being pitiful of his condition equating its loneliness with herself, and instead offering the pet to a stray boy on the beach. Keep up with me, there is more! Ironically, the concept of patriarchy is built around a sense of fear, but in the case of Gopal, also acceptance to a weird change when he gets to know about his wife’s secret transformation, that eventually gets them close. But as fate would have it, tragedy strikes the very next moment!
The black comedy is actually palpable but it doesn’t always land with a few subplots. The sudden ‘murder’ that Uma commits, was woefully out of place even in the bizarre capacity of the drama that only acted as a medium to transition into something more spiritual. The final act has underlying themes of spiritualism and religion in a totally different context – in a scene, you see Uma (who has landed up at an Ashram after a broken nose injury) telling a female monk on how she doesn’t understand religion, to which the reply is that even the female monks don’t, and that they have given up on the concept of life to stay away from the patriarchy of the society.
In another scene, the beliefs of superstition transforms an attacker into a ‘Bhakt’, prompting Uma to flee from the spot after posing as a Goddess. It is a commentary on how most men worship Goddesses (maybe out of fear and superstition) while disrespecting the women around them. Hence when Uma now travelling in a moving train (representing her next phase of life away from the madness), is asked by her co-passenger on what happened to her face (which was taped), she calmly replies on how she has got a new one, signifying her attempt to flee from her past life. This until her past literally plays catch up to her in a hilarious outro. The screenplay here is absolutely a trip in many ways, with concepts of surrealism going hand in hand with feminism, and while not all concepts land, it still accounts for a niche but a fun experience.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues are laced with deadpan and disoriented humour that also acts as a key contributing factor in the absurdity on display. I liked how the punky beats of the music standout, in complete contrast to the life of Uma. It is almost irrational in a way of being carefree and oblivious to the existence of Uma, who is also facing an identity-crisis in the film. This, then adds a meta-commentary on the commentary that is being offered in the drama, while also contributing to the bizarre ways of the film. The cinematography is grainy, almost creating an illusion of a fading identity for most people in the city, a directly contrast to how Uma perceives the world to be around her.
The editing is deliberately fragmented to incorporate the different themes along the way, while giving a perception of a Wes Anderson film, with regular blackouts and symmetrical cuts (and frames). Director Karan Kandhari allows his imagination to run wild in this drama that offers no rules or regulations (in a good-way). There is a sense of liberation in the staged absurdist moments that results in bouts of black humour. He allows his protagonist to run wild too, by allowing her to create bizarre situations that are also escapist in nature, while ensuring that the camera seldom leaves her alone (making it the only constant company for Uma in the big bad city of Mumbai, while she is oblivious of it ofcourse). The director is committed to style of Wes Anderson by experimenting in the most non Wes Anderson-esque environment possible. And that makes for a splashing impact!
Performances
The performances are exceptional by the members of the cast. Smita Tambe as Reshma and Uma Katju as the female monk, add distinct flavour to the narrative. Chhaya Kadam as Sheetal is oddly warm to begin with, but the more you think of it, the more you understand that she is actually Uma at a different timeline, accepting her reality and surrendering to her fate (unlike what Uma does eventually). And she is such a treat to witness here. Ashok Pathak as Gopal is wonderfully subdued while not resorting to the confinements of a typical patriarch. He is vulnerable and meek, also confused and anxious, that sees him form a disconnect towards his wife. And much may have had to do with his previous life that remains unseen, even as his performance ensures that Gopal deserves points of empathy along the way. Radhika Apte as Uma is brilliant to the core, surrendering to the wacky vision of the makers, and clearly having a blast here. Her unhinged, unfiltered and deadpan performance is darkly humourous and subtly intimidating, while oddly being believable too. Her vulnerabilities are presented as bouts of dark humour while never letting go of the underlying sensibilities, and Radhika delivers an utterly balanced act that amuses you and allows you to root in her mad-hatter antics along the way.
Conclusion
Sister Midnight is a thematically diverse and bizarrely absurdist drama that makes for a wacky watch. Think of a Wes Anderson film in an anti-Wes-Anderson environment, and the result is the drama right here. It is a niche and will divide viewers but if you enjoy bouts of absurdity in your palate of cinema, this one is for you. Available on Amazon Prime UK.