In an interview, Monica, O My Darling’s director Vasan Bala explained that he attempted to “cast” singers in his film just like one would cast actors. He wanted those who sing the songs of older playback singers like Asha Bhosle and Hemant Kumar at live music stage events. “These are people who have lived their life imitating someone else,” he said. And so, he told film critic Baradwaj Rangan, they display reverence, and are not spoofing the singers. “It is not mimicry, it’s actually just (sic) — this is life. ”
“This is life”— this beautiful sentiment is at the heart of the film, and the enthusiastic responses to it. Consider its music. Composed by Achint Thakkar and Mikey McCleary, it is not just nostalgic, it becomes what it admires. A few years back, Dum Laga Ke Haisha’s “Dard Karaara”, sung by Kumar Sanu and Sadhana Sargam in the style of a 1990s Hindi film song, had attempted something similar. It had lyrics by Varun Grover, who has also written Monica’s lyrics. While that was one song, Monica, O my Darling extends this to its whole soundtrack.
The YouTube comments on the music album are responding to this sincere quality of the songs. Some commenters initially assumed these songs were cover versions of older 1980s-90s Hindi film songs because they sound so much like the music of that time period. YouTube nostalgics, always searching for confirmation of their dissatisfaction with the present, have found gold. The music reminds them of another time — a better time. It sounds exactly like it.
But there is more to it. The film is not afraid to express love for the film style it likes, without bracketing it in quotes or mock self-deprecation. When someone shows us how much they love something, we can’t help but listen (or watch). Even if we don’t share their enthusiasm for that particular object of affection, we respond to the sentiment behind it. We want to feel the same way. It appears to contain some secret way of being in the world that is neither cynical, nor clever, that says mimicry can be a way of life, that is okay with disappearing into something else.
This sincerity of feeling is rare today where everything is ironic, everyone is self-aware and pleasure has to be explained as “guilty”. None of the film references in Monica, O My Darling, which range from Psycho’s Bates Motel to Tamasha, appear clever, even when they seem forced in one or two instances, like the nod to Maqbool’s “meri jaan” scene. It borrows the best quality of the popular Hindi film in its 1980s and 1990s phase — it’s not self-conscious.
In a different context, this is also one of the reasons the Korean K-dramas feel refreshing. They are not afraid of emotion. They are not afraid of excess. They are not afraid to acknowledge that often fantasy helps us live better in the world. And yet, they show interest in human failure, approaching it without judgement. The combination is compelling and their immense fan following comes as no surprise.
To be a fan is to invest in something outside of yourself. To have the desire to want to know it intimately. Perhaps even to admit that the thing you love knows a better way of being in the world than you do. This can only come out of some kind of curiosity. It cannot come from a place of arrogance, of always already knowing everything. When a film has this warm gaze, we enjoy it. We want to share its enthusiasm, perhaps borrow it for a couple of hours. Revel in this wisdom that carries itself lightly.
The writer teaches film studies at Ashoka University and has recently co-edited ReFocus: The Films of Zoya Akhtar. The views expressed above are those of the writer alone and do not reflect those of Ashoka University
