Lovely or Harrowing? - A Review of Ashim Ahluwalia’s Miss Lovely
Written by Mirika Rayaprolu
Photo credit: Easel Films/Eagle Movies
Any average Indian’s Instagram feed is always filled with a hard 20% of engineering memes, a solid 80% of paparazzi shots of a ragged Ranbir Kapoor, and a pajama-clad Alia Bhatt grabbing an expensive cup of coffee in an expensive neighborhood like Juhu in Mumbai. Bollywood has always been the epitome of the glitz and glamor that artists strive to be a part of, thus laying a sacrificial amount of cards on the table. The amount of ‘give-up-everything’ has always baffled the Indian audience through Ted Talks and Zoom interviews. Basically, there is always a pedestal, an award, a badge of honor for the most suffered actor. However, the audience does a fabulous job at filtering the darkness out of Bollywood in spite of having considerable knowledge of what goes down in the basement of Bollywood.
Ashim Ahluwalia’s first feature narrative, Miss Lovely, portrays a brutal Bombay in the late 80’s and its interaction with a growing ‘C’ grade industry. The city of dreams saw a major influx of young women from all around the country, looking for jobs as actresses and models. The competition, corruption and lust-thirsty producers led to a huge number of these women entering the world of pornography, gangs and covert funding. Miss Lovely follows the story of one such adult film production house and its tango with the underworld grindhouse industry.
Two brothers, Vicky Duggal (Anil George) and Sonu (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) have been in the industry for years with their production house. The unchaste Vicky seems to have dabbled with big gang bosses for years, in an effort to continue funding the sex film studio. Sonu, with a relatively large conscience, gets sucked into the world of sex. But lo and behold! The man falls in love with a pale, white, long black-haired Pinky, and promises to cast her in a romantic film called ‘Miss Lovely’. He enjoys this feeling of being in love with Pinky until he starts to uncover a history that drives him into a frenzy. Ugh. Love.
The very easily sellable concept of success in the film industry in Bombay is somewhat of a quicksand patch. The more you step into it the worse, for the simple reason that the persistence of the mind to reach new heights of testing yourself never lapses. It behaves like a drug that makes you push yourself till the edge. Almost like a game of Jenga that grows increasingly perilous with each block you place on top, testing the extent of how tall your building can grow. My dearest, dearest Sonu and Pinky. I grew uneasy in my seat at the sight of a helpless Sonu and Pinky stumbling around like gasping fish in a shallow pond. The grains on the 16mm made me feel a chill of sadness as these women grew closer and closer to gold rings and expensive cigars. The sex parties that ruled the underground seemed wicked and yet opulent in its own regard making every wakeful audience aware of their own voyeurism. The direction was a Garden of Eden that had a golden space in the film’s flow.
Photo Credit: Easel Films/Eagle Movies
Love, lust, gangs, money, the polluted Bombay air and the very notion of scuttling around to make you love work, Ahluwalia’s gives you all of it. The uncanny location portrayal of what the city looked like in the 80’s was an all-immersive experience that acted on entertainment and the pique that the average viewer would feel about unregulated pornography. Ahluwalia’s documentary-style filmmaking takes us to an 80’s Bombay, right from the title cards to the credits. His way of conducting a shoot is very non-fiction-like and remains to be a visual-treat for all those who encounter his work, much like the great Mira Nair’s work that continues to be a module to be taught in every Indian film school, ‘Salaam Bombay’ being a personal favorite.
Was Miss Lovely harrowing or lovely? A peculiar concoction of both? Some things are better left unsaid. I’ll never know.
Director: Ashim Ahluwalia
Running Time: 110 minutes
Link to the Trailer- Miss Lovely | Trailer
Mirika is a current film student from Mumbai, India. She just moved to America and works as a freelance videographer and editor. Her interests lie in documentary and experimental filmmaking, and is keen on using film as a tool for advocacy. Find her on Instagram