Queen — Queen of Hearts

Early in Queen, Mrs. Dhingra, when meeting Rani for the first time, says to her, "Haaye kitni sweet hai." And then she says to her son, Vijay, "Tu mithai kha, hum gol gappe khate hai." Later, when the Italian restaurateur compliments her for making sumptuous gol gappas, he says, "Spicy but delicious." That was the entire purpose of the movie Queen — the transformation of Rani from being 'sweet' to 'spicy but delicious.' Again, it is no coincidence that both the scenes had a gol gappa reference. It is these beautiful details that make Queen a terrific film. It also helps that Kangana Ranaut, who plays Rani, gives one of her career-best performances in the film. She is perfect as Queen and brings her own interpretation to Rani. Perhaps that explains why she was credited with additional dialogue in the opening credits.  

Queen is the story of Rani — a middle-class girl about to get married in a day — and she is jilted by her fiancé one day before their wedding. Heartbroken, she decides to go on her honeymoon alone to Paris and Amsterdam. It is there when is she on her own for the first time in her life that she comes of age and learns to let go of her past and live her life. She makes friends who bring a change in her. She realizes that love is not the only thing in life and that she deserves much better. Queen is her journey towards empowerment and emancipation. It is one of the finest coming-of-age films I have seen since Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu and English Vinglish. What makes Queen a much different film from the typical coming-of-age films is that Rani does not require love to find herself. Aditya in Jab We Met discovered his passion for music through Geet. Rahul in Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu needed Rianna to tell him that it is an excellent quality to be 'perfectly average.' Sid in Wake Up Sid needed Aisha to wake him up from his immature slumber. Arjun in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara needed Laila to slow him down and help him visualize a parallel universe not only physically underneath the ocean but also metaphorically where people see the stars at night. In Queen, Rani finds life on her own — through observation, courage, experience, and guts — without losing her original charm, and she has friends who help her do that. Love is not a necessary ingredient for her to find life. That's what makes Queen different. There are other coming-of-age films where someone finds life, not through love. But they are few that I can recollect. Lakshya and Udaan seem to be on the top of that list.

One of the criticisms of English Vinglish was that it was not really a story of female empowerment as Shashi was already an empowered individual. She was an entrepreneur who made delicious laddoos. Just because she did not know English, she felt disrespected and powerless. Many people had said that she should have stood up to the conceit of her husband and daughter. But Queen is genuinely a brilliant statement on women's empowerment. In one of the film's amazing scenes, we see Rani's friend Sonal is walking on a treadmill, and she says to her, "Tu Amsterdam ghoom teen laundon ke saath aur hum potty dhote hain yahan." In some way, that scene pointed to what could have been Rani's life if she had married Vijay. Being the male chauvinist that Vijay was, who had said to her that he did not want Rani to work after their wedding, it was very clear that Rani would end up with the same fate as her friend Sonal — having not even a few minutes to talk to your friend, not even having the time to go the gym and washing your kid's poo all day. Some women would love to do that, but it should be their choice, not their husband's. That is the story of every girl, as another scene shows. Rani got 80% marks in her Class 12th exams, and she wanted to manage her uncle's business accounts. She said that her father said to ask Vijay if he wanted her to work after their wedding. Vijay asks her what her father wants. She has to work, and who gets to make the decision — her father or her husband. In another brilliant scene, Rani talks about how girls are not even allowed to burp openly. Beneath the veneer of the scene's jocularity was a stark statement on the social mores that a girl is expected to follow. In another great scene, Rani drives the car all by herself without the constant jibes of anyone. These and the fact that the entire film is driven by one heroine prove that Queen was also a comment on the changing dynamics of a woman's position in our society. 

Not just about female empowerment, but Queen is also a nuanced and complex film. In one of the film's brilliant scenes, Rani makes a profound statement in her drunken stupor. "Mera haal na Gupta Uncle ke jaisa ho gaya hai. Gupta Uncle ko na cancer ho gaya hai, unhone kabhi sharab nahi pi, cigarette nahi pi, phir bhi cancer ho gaya. Isse accha to pi lete. Apni mummy daddy ki har baat maani hai maine, teachers ki har baat maani hai maine, kabhi exam me cheating nahi ki, kabhi jhooth nahi bola, tu jiska naam lo uski har baat mani hai maine." A very famous quote says — If you expect the world to be fair with you because you are fair, you're fooling yourself. That's like expecting the lion not to eat you because you didn't eat him. Just because Rani has been an obedient girl all her life, it does not mean that life would be obedient to her. Because, as they say, "Shit happens." So why not live life fully without worrying about the consequences of blaming your misfortunes on life and simply move on. 

There is another insightful point that Jai Arjun Singh makes about Queen. He says here that: Perhaps part of the point – a point running through the story – is that appearances are deceptive and that everyone contains multitudes. A trio of men sniggering together at a girl who is unknowingly examining a dildo can simply be having harmless fun. The sweet-looking boy who shows up on a scooter with dozens of red balloons for his girlfriend could become a domineering, iron-fisted husband. A jovial grandmother might casually, after decades, recall an old boyfriend from whom she was separated by Partition. A hooker who displays herself in a window in red-light Amsterdam might speak in refined Urdu outside her working hours. And a "simple" West Delhi girl who was in love with the idea of being married might return from a foreign trip and happily flaunt her "single" status on Facebook. The more I think about it, the more what Jai Arjun says seems true. This holds true for other people as well. Taka, her Japanese friend, behaves like a child, but deep inside, he compensates for the parental love he used to get from his mother and father, who died in the tsunami. Vijaylakshmi, at first, is the sultry waitress who has sex with strangers, but later we find that she is also a loving mom who calls her son 'jaan', and she is as thrilled by watching the Eiffel Tower as is Rani.  

Vikas Bahl brings many such layered nuances and vignettes to Queen. When Rani checks in at the hotel in Paris, her reservation is under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Dhingra. In Amsterdam, her reservation is under her name when she checks in at the hostel. When she moves her luggage to her room in Paris, she struggles to do so, but when she takes the train to Amsterdam, she carries a backpack effortlessly. Both of these point to her metamorphosis into an independent girl with her own identity and who does not require her boyfriend or her father to hold her hand to cross the road. In the song Badra Bahar, she runs away from the Eiffel Tower and could not escape it. Wherever she goes, she finds something related to Eiffel Tower — the souvenirs, the road signs, the shadows on the car — it creeps out like a monster. The more she tries to escape it, the more it follows her. She had wanted to visit the Eiffel with Vijay, which reminded her of him. Later, she makes it a point to go to see the Eiffel with another Vijay (Vijaylakshmi) as if she has been able to confront her fears head-on. She is not afraid of it anymore, and rather than seeing it through the prism of her past, she takes it as an opportunity to get enthralled by the tower's spectacular beauty. 

When Vijay breaks up with Rani, it happens in a Cafe Coffee Day and the director shows us its tagline 'a lot can happen over coffee' as if making a statement that a lot did happen over coffee. In that excellent scene, Vijay breaks up with Rani, and we see that he clears the mehendi particles from the table that had fallen from Rani's pleading hands, indicating his haughty character. Such fine attention to characterization accentuated the film's beauty. At another point, we know that the only thing he knows to cook is the instant Maggi. He tries to woo her by offering her ice cream and a cold drink but eventually, she agrees to the more simmered and hot sweet corn soup, bringing out the contrast in both of them through the choices of the food they prefer. Vijay was indeed a male chauvinist pig. He asks her to make a tattoo of his name, but when she asks him to do the same, he makes some cheesy patronizing statement. She prefers Paris—the city of love, and he likes Amsterdam—the city of sins. 

The West Delhi middle-class life has become another genre in itself. Oye Lucky Lucky Oye, Band Baaja Baaraat, and Do Dooni Chaar also did this excellently. So, in Queen, we see bottles of Roohafza, a cooler with khas, and Amul butter in Rani's house. There is an inverter as a backup for electricity. The bank teller sits in a cubicle that has iron grillings. The family has a Maruti car. The girls go and eat dal ke pakode in the market. Rani says she is from Rajouri, India, and does not use the word Delhi as if Rajouri is altogether a different entity from Delhi. Vijay often speaks with a hard 't' just like the new trend it is now. Even after staying in France for years, the relatives she visits in Paris convert Euros into Indian currency (11 Euros = 750 Rupees). Yes, they will show off too by saying from where they learned French. Rani's brother brings a chowki for his dadi to sit when she speaks to Rani. Nobody knows what hing is called in English. But there was one scene that confused me a lot. At one point, Rani dreams about Vijay, and she sees that Vijay is dressed as a mithaiwala in one scene and as a conductor in the second scene and he says to her, "Kyunki hamara status match nahi hota." Earlier, when she was drunk, she had said about Vijay, "main Vijay se zyada good looking hun, meri dost Sonal use conductor bolti thi." I was nonplussed by the dream scene especially as to why was Vijay shown like that. Was it a real statement on the hypocrisy of the middle class bringing out the class divide where someone who is not good-looking is perceived to be like a conductor, or was it a statement on Rani's anger that a man, who is clearly not as good as her, dared to tell her that she is not of his stature? I don't know, but it made me think a lot. My friend A gave me this explanation which I think makes complete sense. Rani complied with the guy's proposal as he pursued her till she said yes, and she is a submissive person who relented. She had said that she wanted an arranged marriage, and being such a good-natured person, she could not break his heart. Though in her mind she wanted more, she never found him of her standard. Thus, when he broke off, she was angry at Vijay; she saw him as a conductor because she saw herself as better than him.

That is why Queen was a much deeper film than it is made out to be. At another point in the film, when Rani is in the hostel in Amsterdam, she is shown wearing a sweatshirt on which it is written 'Alice in Wonderland meets the White Rabbit', as if she is Alice herself, who has fallen into the wonderland and is fascinated by the creatures she meets. Aiyyaa, another brilliant film with a superb performance by Rani Mukerji, had references to Alice in Wonderland. But I digress. The whole purpose of naming Lisa Haydon's character as Vijay had a symbolic purpose as she explains, "Vijay nahi, Vijaylakshmi to hai." Even though Vijay might not be there, she has other Vijays, and therefore, she should just move on, and eventually, she would be victorious (vijay). 

The supporting cast in Queen is splendid. Rani's mother and father are played very nicely. When her mother says, "Tune sweater kyun nahi pehna jab itni thand hai", I was instantly reminded of my mom. Ab ghar ke andar thori thand hoti hai! Her brother is equally fantastic. Dadi is awesome, "Yahaan to adult picture chal rahi hai." Though, in all honesty, I was slightly irritated by that gag. It appeared very pretentious and cliched. One scene was enough, but every time Vijaylakshmi came, it was irritating. Lisa Haydon and Rajkumar Rao give excellent performances. But Queen is Kangana all the way. She brings a charming vulnerability to Rani—be it her mannerisms, her language, her emotions — it felt as is Kangana is Rani herself. That is the mark of excellent performance. The way Rani blushes and says 'lip to lip kiss' to herself when she sees Vijaylakshmi kissing a stranger, the way she makes pouting lip movements before she kisses the Italian guy, the innocence with which she calls a dominatrix belt as a normal costume belt and then later laughs it off as "foreigners find Lajpat Nagar very funny," the way she tells the non-veg Santa Banta jokes, the way she says, "Aapka nature bahut jolly hai," or "Mera naa sense of humor bahut funny hai, dheere dheere aapko pata chala" — Kanga brings a resplendent verisimilitude to Rani. She is simply outstanding.

I was thrilled by the music. Amit Trivedi's music is so good. Badra Bahar reminded me so much of Nayan Tarse from Dev D. I loved Kinare and Harjaiyan. The lyrics of Harjaiyan are lovely — became my instant favorite like Lehrein from Aisha.

Saaye saaye phirte hain jidhar mudoon,

Baithi hain ruswaaiyan bhi uske door,

Ho behla fusla ke khud ko nasihaten karun,

Jhooti muthi si, tuti-phuti si,

Ho dhundhali dhundhali si,

Main to idhar udhar phiroon.

Queen also has perhaps one of the best ending credits of a Hindi film. Wonderful. I can watch the film again just for them. I did send an email to happyrani@yahoo.com to check if the mail account is active or not. The email did not bounce back, so maybe the account is real :)

My favorite part was the film's ultimate message — que sera sera — what will be, will be. When her dadi consoles Rani, she says, "Kaun kahan mil jata hai kisko kya pata, bas apni zindagi ji aaram se bilkul, jo milna hota hai na zindagi me, vo mil ke rehta hai, use koi nahi rok sakta; jo hua accha hi hua."  That was the film's teaching to us all. Rani was dejected and heartbroken when her wedding was called off, but it opened her to a new world. Would she have been able to do that if she had gotten married? That is why in the end, she comes and returns the wedding ring to Vijay; she hugs him and gracefully thanks him. She does not hold a grudge against him because she would miss so much in life if he had not called off the wedding. Even in that moving moment, she had the grace to go to his home and call it off, unlike what Vijay did to her when he did not have the courtesy to give her a single call. And as Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi says, "There is nothing more critical than to exercise the generosity to let something end with the grace it started with." I do hope Rani finds the happiness she deserves. Queen made me care for her. It is a spectacular film that needs to be seen.

Hungama Ho Gaya

Dialogue of the day:

"French Toast..nahi yeh na sirf India me hi milta hai." 

— Rani, Queen