Film Review— Mrs.

Mrs. — A Social Message That Lingers

Directed by: Arati Kadav
Written by: Anu Singh Choudhary, Harman Baweja
Cinematography: Pratham Mehta
Produced by: Harman Baweja, Pammi Baweja, Jyoti Deshpande
Production Houses: Jio Studios, Baweja Studios
Cast: 

• Sanya Malhotra as Richa

• Nishant Dahiya as Diwakar, Richa’s husband

• Kanwaljit Singh as Richa’s father-in-law

• Aparna Ghoshal as Richa’s Mother-in-law

Film Review: Mrs. – A Mirror to Patriarchy and Silent Resistance

A cinema can serve many purposes; there are films that entertain; others take us into fantasy worlds; and then there are the films that stand starkly before us like a hurting mirror to our existence. Mrs. is a compelling retelling of the critically acclaimed Malayalam film The Great Indian Kitchen, retaining its essence while enriching it with a more nuanced storytelling style and performances, especially by Sanya Malhotra.

A Reimagining That Resonates

Adapting a film that has gained as much attention as The Great Indian Kitchen would always be a challenging task, striking a very delicate balance between staying true to life and getting some fresh perspectives. Mrs. conveys this beautifully by transforming ordinary household sounds into an unformed language of survival and subjugation—the clattering of utensils, the sizzling of oil, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. Every action in the kitchen becomes a symbol, every silence a forgotten protest, and every expectation an invisible chain tightening around Richa (Sanya Malhotra), a woman whose individuality and aspirations are soon obliterated by domestic servitude.

A Woman’s World, Confined

A very bright and enthusiastic dancer, Richa marries a respectable gynecologist, Diwakar (Nishant Dahiya), believing in a mutual bond. But she soon discovers that she is just a domestic caretaker, trapped in a kitchen with expectations that deny her identity. It is important to know that though Diwakar has a modern profession, he has a very strong sense of patriarchy, where the worth of any woman is ascertained not by her intellect and passions, but by the efficiency with which she runs the household. 

The screenplay follows Richa down that very slope into an existence of silent subjugation. Finally, she gave up dance, which had once been her joyful self-expression, as a resistance—first she made it taboo and then set it aside altogether. Diwakar, who once liked her independence, slowly strangles her existence into what is acceptable for women and puts her in a straightjacket: His cute comment, “You smell like the kitchen-the sexiest smell in the world,” turns into something that is dis-emotional and actually makes her a mere place, which she has been caught into.

The Power of Silence

What makes Mrs. impact is the effective silence it has used. There are no explosive fights or sob scenes, only suffocating omnipresent silence. The weight of unuttered words, absence of acknowledgment, and growing emotional isolation speak louder than any confrontation does. A leaking sink becomes a metaphor not only for shabbiness but also for Richa's cries being chosen to mark how domestic ills are considered and made as disconnected subjects only belonging to women. 

Diwakar slowly, silently, and chillingly transforms from a ducklike husband to a lampshade in the alcoves of gender discrimination. His dreadfulness comes mainly not through overt cruelty but through insidious ingrained patriarchy: an everyday man, son, husband, and father whose daily actions speak volumes of unquestioned tradition generation upon generation. Nishant Dahiya has captured this duality with such realism that it can add to the charm of his performance.

Sanya Malhotra’s Career-Defining Performance

Sanya Malhotra renders a very intelligent performance endowed with compelling authenticity, one that is capable of making your skin crawl; truly, she does not perform Richa—she is Richa. Every flashpoint of her frustration, each barely audible act of rebellion, and every muted scream resonates within the viewers. The performance does not evoke pity but rather pulls the onlookers into the claustrophobic reality of her existence.

Diwakar, represented by Nishant Dahiya, is disturbingly genuine, revealing a man who sees no merit in his own complicity in the oppression. Kanwaljit Singh, carrier of the heavy authority of a father-in-law, commands silent dominance, while Aparna Ghoshal's mother-in-law, embodying silent compliance, shows us the endless cycle of views perpetuated by patriarchal training.

A Social Commentary That Stays with You

The film, Mrs., gives focus to psychological and domestic rather than religious and societal issues intertwined with patriarchy in the Great Indian Kitchen. Therefore, it has stronger international accessibility. While the film speaks clearly that the worthiness of women is not their ability to serve others, a moment striking at the heart comes when Richa, quiet in her thoughts, says to a little girl, "A woman is like an undivided prime number. That is her secret power." This lingers, reinforcing the concept that women are whole, self-sufficient beings and not just hangers-on in a man's story.

A Film That Demands Introspection

While some films fade into obscurity, Mrs. tries not to be one of those. It does not offer easy resolutions or neatly packaged endings; on the contrary, it forces audiences to face down unpleasant truths about gender roles and domestic expectations while encouraging self-reflection on how society, consciously or unconsciously, is complicit in sustaining such cycles of oppression.   

For men, Mrs. is a call to reconsider their roles in underpinning patriarchal structures. For women, it is both a commentary on their struggles and a story of their strength. But for all audiences, it is a reminder that revolutions often begin not with loud proclamations but with the smallest acts of defiance-with unvoiced refusals, in the hidden places of worth.  

At the end of the day, Mrs. is not merely a film about some female life; it is a charge against a world that continues to define her in terms of servitude. With gripping performances, along with brutal honesty, this piece of cinematic brilliance will remain in your thoughts long after its final curtain.