What really made this mix -up so yummylicious? Irrfan Khan? Nawazuddin Siddiqui (after the GOW duo logy and Bombay Talkies, cinegoers cant seem to have enough of him) or the charming Nimrat Kaur? All of them and a bit more. For easy reference, the lunch box here, is the hero, and the mix -up, a rare occurrence in bustling Mumbai, is the bashful heroine, and when the two meet, so the story happens...
For many now of us living in the age of increasing romantic cynicism, an old world quaint exchange of letters over a lunchbox may well arouse disbelief initially (yes, despite doses of You've Got Mail in the 90's) but, then one quickly sinks in to the seat, as latent feelings of sublime romance take over and between epistles, you will see a tale unfold, revealing what it is to be alone in a crowd - no matter how old or young one may be or what one's circumstances might be.
Young homemaker Ila (Kaur as usual, comes trumps in her first major big screen outing) trapped in a loveless marriage and her duties, doing her best every single day to get so much as a glance from a supremely indifferent husband, who is cheating on her, as she is to learn eventually...all so real, tangible. Kaur's Ila would remind discerning cine buffs of several other female central characters of Bollywood, one of them being Chhoti Bahu in Guru Dutt's 1963 classic Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam, so trying hard to grab the eyeballs of a philandering landlord husband....seems far fetched? Watch carefully and you will know Ila and many women like her haven't really, to this day, moved away from the shackles of dutifulness and sense of resignation of women of another time.
That Irrfan Khan is an artist beyond compare is one thing, and in Lunch Box we see an actor who has now grown way above the ordinary film critique or review, so to put down words to describe his character in the film would be as impudent an exercise as it would be to rate him as an actor.The lonely aging widower Sajan Fernandes and the actor merge into inseparable parts, and along the way we lose sight of who-s-who, and that, in itself is the triumph of the story.
Siddiqui's role as the younger earnest self made colleague, Shaikh, who sticks to Fernandes like a leech, and watches the metamorphosis of the reticent older man to a happy friendly colleague - would have remained the formulaic comic relief track, but for Director Ritesh Batra's hand in steering it into the story and meshing it well to make Shaikh so endearing.
Moments to watch out for: Irrfan's expressions as he greedily sniffs at the dabba every afternoon in tremulous anticipation and the satisfaction that dawns on his face after having eaten a lovely meal. The irony of the story being that by being receptive to Ila, he slips in to the role of the intended recipient, the husband, who would have never perhaps appreciated or rewarded Ila's culinary efforts...praise and camaraderie had to come through a stranger over a lunch box... the Dabba walas' refrain of Tukaram, Gyanoba as they transfer zillions of boxes across the city and the Bhutanese Radio playing fervently in the background of Fernandes' balcony - signalling the wakening of suppressed dreams, veteran artiste Bharti Achrekar's voice as the friendly neighborhood aunty doling out the older woman counsel to Ila with the slice of daily life - add to the moments in the movie.
Lilette Dubey's cameo as the mother, perhaps, defines the direction of Ila's life when she decides to take the big step - no more duties and sacrifices for an in-gratuitous system. It is here Ila is seen coming of age - she is no more the doormat but a woman who has made up her mind; no, she wouldn't particularly do the jumping act off the terrace, but yes, would pack her bags to get a life, and not see the years slip by in tears and regret.
Batra's narrative is clear, and stops very stereotypical moments from becoming so.... the theme of the mix up in itself ran the risk of becoming pathetically filmi, but no, Batra doesn't let us have it so. Then, the telepathic moment when Ila asks uparwali Aunty to play Mera Dil Bhi Kitna Paagal Hain from Saajan while the urchins hum the same tune in the crowded train Sajan boards after work...the meeting that- never - was at the cafe, while Kaur impatiently waits for her 'friend' and then of course, the ending...Batra leaves so much to our imagination. Does Ila really go away to Bhutan to realize her dream of everlasting happiness? Do Sajan and Ila ever meet?
Sometimes, some meetings and equations don' t have a name, as aptly expressed by Gulzar in the melody from Khamoshi (1971), "Humne dekhi hain un aankhon ki mehakti khushboo, haath se chhooke isse rishton ka ilzaam na do"... to categorize Lunch Box as a mere love story would once again be pandering to popular marketing consumption, akin to the Bollywoodization of the movie, which one is certain, Batra would be loathe to doing. There is no activism or statement here; just a story, simply told. No posturing about meaningful cinema, which I believe is a much abused coinage. It is just about a ensemble of believable people that came in at the right time, to an appreciative audience, who have now gradually learnt to sift riff-raff sensationalism from sense. And therein lies my point.
Will I hit the mutiplexes to watch this again? Maybe not... but, I will catch up with this treat for sure at home again and again...And as to why the movie hasn' t made it to the Oscars this year, despite heavyweight backing and cine goer vote, is another story in itself.
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