After sweeping accolades, the Tillotama Shome and Vivek Gomber starrer Is Love Enough? Sir released on Over-the-Top platform Netflix on January 9, and much has been written about the film since. The Hindi film explores the slowly brewing love story between Ratna (Tillotama Shome), a widowed domestic worker, and her rich employer, Ashwin (Vivek Gomber). The two of them belong to the extreme ends of the social spectrum. The film plays out like a poem, exploring the impossible and often moving dreams of two people whose love will likely remain unrequited.
During the 99-minute runtime, director Rohena Gera examines the relationship between Ratna and Ashwin while subtly making a comment on class differences, how the upper-class views those who are from a stratum lower than theirs, and the gaze employed in their interactions. Although the audience is already aware of the differences, multiple instances in the film further explicitly display it on-screen.
Ratna is a lively woman but she dreads going back to her village in the interiors of Maharashtra and living a shackled life. She finds liberty in the vastness of the city and the terrace of the high-rise where she is a live-in domestic worker. This is captured in an understated fashion.
When she's traveling to the city from her village, Ratna fetches a set of glossy green bangles from her purse and puts them on with the hint of a smile on her face. Wearing the bangles, in her own way, is an act of rebellion against patriarchy and the age-old customs that prohibit widows from dressing up or even wearing bangles. The act of wearing bangles is also a mental reminder that she is not limited by archaic traditions anymore.
“If my family ever gets to know what transpired between us, my brother-in-law will drag me back to the village and chain me to a corner,” she tells Ashwin while asking him to forget the moment where the boundaries in their hearts ceased to exist before being jerked into reality by the blaring ring of the telephone.
The dialogue hits hard because it not only highlights the differences between them but is also a reminder of how widows have been reduced as negligible beings in the societal structure for centuries. It shows how patriarchy ties in the life, aspirations and dreams of a woman only with her husband and how it all supposedly ends with his death.
But it is not as if the upper-class city-bred Ashwin is free of conditioning. When he's surprised that she dreams of becoming a fashion designer, she retorts, “Kya humare jaise logon ko sapne dekhne ka haq nahi hai? [Are we not entitled to a dream just because we are poor?]"
Her questioning Ashwin is not just a sentiment at display. It gives the audience a reality check on how people from the lower classes have been systematically deprived of their right to dream.
Ratna's job places her in social situations around those who are much wealthier than she is; as a result, she is often subjected to cruel and insensitive remarks. “When a few thousands are cut from their salary, they act straight,” says an angry guest at Ashwin’s place when Ratna accidentally spills wine on her dress.
These incidents reveal how the class divide takes away the dignity of people, with the privileged lot being dismissive of other people's realities. And this can happen even when it is well-intentioned. For instance, Ashwin confesses that he would like to take Ratna out and that he doesn’t care what people think. To this, she says that it matters to her. Her words show her desire to uphold her dignity even if that may feel unnecessary to Ashwin.
Apart from these little moments, Gera uses space and setting to convey the difference between the two worlds. Ratna’s space is cramped and dim in contrast to the rest of the apartment inhabited by Ashwin even though they live under the same roof. They may live in the same city and nation but their conditions vastly differ from each other. It is a reality that the director masterfully translates into a stunning visual on-screen.
Basing the film in Mumbai, the city of dreams where multi-dollar sky-scrapers are built right next to the slums, the film moves away from a Disney princess prototype film of happily-ever-afters.
However, there are certain aspects of Sir that need to be discussed more. What is the basis of the relationship between Ratna and Ashwin? Ratna always wears the cloak of invisibility around her employer (Ashwin), concurrently tending to him. The power dynamic between the two is always skewed and he has the edge. Their abrupt conversations might be due to linguistic differences, but is it just that? Is it not indicative of the skewed distribution of power? They don't have conversations where they are on an equal footing and yet, we're meant to believe that their love is true.
Is Ratna’s character not being reduced to a sober version of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl whose sole existence is to help their men? Even though she is seen pursuing her dreams in the film, she does nothing but take care of Ashwin as her employer. In addition to this, the other women who have the same class privileges as Ashwin—Sabina (Ashwin’s fiancée), Ashwin’s friends and his mother—are shown in a negative light. Is that necessary to highlight Ratna as the MPDG who inspires Ashwin to pursue his dreams?
There are also instances in the film that are quite unsettling. In one scene, a tired Ashwin’s eyes linger on the wedding gifts his former fiancée had returned, and which are later kept in Ratna’s room. He enters the room and looks at her [Ratna] belongings. In her absence. Without her permission. It feels like an invasion of privacy given the circumstances.
In another scene, he holds Ratna’s hand and leans in to kiss her. She stays silent for a while and is hesitant in reciprocating. Is this scene actually romantic or a romanticisation of workplace sexual harassment that's all too common in our cinema? When he asks her out, he enters her room without her permission again and sits extremely close. Her silence need not necessarily mean consent, and yet we're led to believe that she wants it too. The question is, would a domestic worker in such a situation really have the option to say 'no' to her employer in real life? And what would the consequences of her refusing to give consent be?
While it is easier not to pay heed to these problematic depictions because a romantic relationship does ensue eventually, we need to question why Ashwin's behaviour is considered acceptable, even romantic.
Undoubtedly, Gera has made an exemplary film with finesse. She has shot this drama [it is her first attempt at feature film] in her style as a documentary filmmaker, compelling the audience to introspect without being aggressive. However, there’s more to it than what just meets the [critical] eye, and these issues need to be thrashed out too.
Watch the trailer here.