Growing up on the wintry tea estate that she calls home and where the sun shines seldomly, bubbly teen Tillotoma (fondly referred to by her ‘daak naam’ Titli) can’t stop fangirling over Rohit Roy/Rana, a beloved leading man in Hindi cinema and a much older heartthrob settled in the bustling metropolis of Mumbai. One fine misty morning, while accompanying her mother Urmila to pick her father up at the airport, Titli crosses paths with the superstar himself! And what could be a more unimaginable Christmas present than the opportunity of carpooling with one’s celeb crush? However, the naive youngster’s rose-tinted view of romance turns ashen grey when she discovers that she shares a first love… with her mum!
The movie then follows the heartbroken Titli’s coming of age journey and her innermost conflict in navigating this ‘betrayal’, transforming from an upbeat, rather dramatic and filmy young lady to adopting a distant and cold attitude- even giving the chilly weather a run for its money. And now it’s up to this previously thick as thieves mother-daughter duo to let the iciness thaw in a mature and upfront manner. Most importantly, it sets out to answer the titular character’s pressing question- Does her mum still love her old flame and whether Titli will go on loving her favourite actor despite this awkward revelation that’s eating away at her bond with her mum?
Late filmmaker Rituparno Ghosh’s work is more often than not marked by pure ‘stream of consciousness-esque’ conversations and poetic dialogue between the characters that are enough to leave one immersed throughout the running time of his moving cinematic pieces which unravel at their own unhurried pace. In this particular movie, poetry is utilised not just as effective conversation starters and ice breakers to bridge the generational gap between its 3 leads, but acts as a love language in itself especially to depict its core themes of the respective platonic and romantic longing between Titli, her poetess mum Urmila, and of course, the mutual object of their affection, Rana/Rahul who is quite the listener, a quality lacking in Urmila’s husband who is frequently away on business trips in faraway metropolis cities himself.
The movie also benefits from subtle imagery, with Ghosh drawing comparisons between the famous Darjeeling toy train co-existing among cars on winding roads, and the coexistence of both destiny and strife in Rohit’s initial struggle for stardom, or Titli and Urmila both holding the superstar’s letters close to their heart after countless rejections, feelings of embitterment, or invitations left unheeded/unanswered. Other such parallels include Titli praying (or rather manifesting) at every monastery, akin to flashbacks of her mother as a young bride eagerly awaiting at the window, longing for a first love that she can’t quite forget. Ghosh also incorporates clever song choices and song placements to keep the proceedings interesting, and also in lending much empathy from viewers towards the respective regretful experiences of both the leading man and the leading ladies – With the chorus of ABBA’s ‘Fernando’ playing in the background of a one-sided phonecall between a newly-married Urmila and the newly-successful superstar, and later the lyrics of ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ by The Beatles conveying how ‘Nothing is real, And there’s nothing to get hung about‘ as a teary-eyed Titli gazes out at the tea plantations from her car window, yet to recover from or reconcile with the news of her mother’s ‘secret life’, further feeding into her insecurities and in her viewing the latter as a soap opera-esque rival who intends to steal her ‘dream man’ rather than as a maternal figure.
‘Titli’ also emphasises a life lived with no regrets, be it a carefree Rana/Rohit’s age showing but him still choosing to show off for ‘the one who got away’ by picking cherry blossoms for her from a branch that’s out of his reach as she watches on in an amused, bewildered fashion, or Titli who much like her mum shares the trait of keeping the ageing superstar grounded or at least more self aware of his limitations and vices which he might regret later, thus providing him with a much needed sense of comfort and found family after years of searching for a sense of belonging in the big city, his gnawing loneliness and overall absence of a home to call his own (barring a luxurious seaside bungalow in Mumbai).
Even during her formative years as an actor, Konkona Sen Sharma shows a natural knack for slipping into the khaki/beige overalls of the whimsical Titli, without resorting to any over the top antics that could come across as forced. Aparna Sen is yet another powerhouse much like her real-life daughter, and leaves one enamoured with her riveting dialogue delivery in the role of Urmila who is an endearing support system and simultaneously the best wingman (or shall I say, wing woman?) that any growing girl could ask for, and who’s easily amused by her daughter’s fantastical musings yet never overly cynical nor restrictive of the same. Mithun Chakraborty turns in a restrained yet impressive performance as the charming superstar whose age is finally catching up to him and is compelled to seek solace from regrets in his newfound companionship.
Overall, ‘Titli’ is a touching and wholesome watch, particularly if you’re feeling alone during the holidays or disensitized to the holiday spirit. And I’d certainly highly recommend it if Rituparno Ghosh’s captivating style of filmmaking and compelling contemporary Bengali cinema stirs your curiosity as well.
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