Shazia Iqbal makes two significant changes in her feature directorial debut Dhadak 2, remake of Mari Selvaraj’s Pariyerum Perumal, starring Siddhant Chaturvedi as Neelesh, playing Kathir’s titular role from the original and Triptii Dimri as Vidhi taking over Anandhi’s Jyoti. Iqbal and co-writer Rahul Badwelkar place the story in Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, one of the fast developing Indian cities that would fall under what’s ostensibly called the Tier 2 category. It is a departure from the Tamil film’s relative mofussil setting of Tirunalveli. They also contract the role of Pariyan’s friend in law college, Yogi Babu’s Anand, and distribute pieces of that surplus to Vidhi to bolster her as more of an eyes and ears person than Jyo. We still get the friend in Aditya Thakare’s Vasu, but his part is only to bring a group dynamic to the friendship in college.
Dhadak 2 dances around a few other changes as well but these two are successful attempts at improving the original. The story of a first generation law student from a Dalit community confronting caste discrimination and violence in college and love life takes an immediate resonance with its cityscapes dotted by snazzy billboards and open parks and lake views where friends and lovers could meet as equals, where Neelesh and Vidhi could stumble upon lovers making out in the open, thus breaking the ice between them to push the limits of their conversation. This is especially true when one watches the film in a city and cannot dismiss the events as those happening in a land farther away, both physically and in thought, subconsciously. The upper caste families of Bhopal holiday in nearby Sanchi (as Vidhi mentions) oblivious to the Buddhist presence in the 3rd century BCE site as well as its influence in the interiors of Neelesh’s home. Iqbal removes the halo of innocence hovering over Jyo in Pariyerum Perumal. In the Tamil film, it made Jyo the stand-in for ignorance accorded by privilege and caste. In Dhadak 2, even though Vidhi learns a thing or two along the way, she is not wholly in the dark. She only a has hard time putting together that the call is coming from inside the house.
The urban landscape and its ensuing freedom to lose oneself in offers enough room to turn the Neelesh-Vidisha relationship romantic. Iqbal begins with a colorful billboard of a matrimonial service lording over a busy, clean city, pointing to the most powerful upholder of caste dynamics and endogamy. Every significant step towards Vidhi’s sister’s wedding and the event itself gradually build up the barrier to this union. They begin ambitiously by hinting at a gehra or deep relationship. Soon after Neelesh’s humiliation at the hands of her family at her sister’s wedding, he wonders if she is in a gehri neend or deep slumber that she dreams of a happy ending for them (the dialogues are fantastic). The film gives Vidhi a playful questioning spirit that aids in making her character more curious which in turn offers her the wherewithal to make sense of Neelesh’s situation and even fight for him. Both Chaturvedi and Dimri are terrific here with performances that complement each other. His is a more inward performance, his countenance rarely betraying the wounded individual within maintaining a stoic and chipper exterior while her face speaks a thousand words even when her heart is unwilling.
Although Mari Selvaraj’s film (that just last week I had here as one of twenty five best Tamil films of the 21st century so far) donates many good things, all of Dhadak 2’s attempts to improve over the material pay off. Neelesh enters law college with only dreams of becoming a lawyer and a complete disregard to politics of resistance. He refuses to engage with his senior’s protests and activism, but his everyday experiences compel him to reinforce his identity and self worth as a law student. He stands up to Vidhi’s cousin, a fellow classmate, as well as his lackeys. Dhadak 2’s other departure is its unceremonious but very real trajectory for Neelesh’s senior, a denouement that becomes the catalyst for his willingness to resist, both for his identity as well as his love. Iqbal stages this scene with power and care (and Shailendra’s verse), its repercussion loud but the transition quiet. An inadvertent spill of blue burnishes Neelesh’s face even as he is isolated in a crowd, a tremendous loss giving way to a momentous gain in character. It gives Iqbal a shot at a more thumping ending for her film and she doesn’t miss. The mainstream registers come alive and kicking, Dhadak 2 lays the foundation to whip up all the righteous anger and even calls for community action in its argumentative scream of a climax. The isolated rides on Vidhi’s two wheeler go away. When we part with Neelesh and Vidhi, they are visibly freer in public transport.