Mrs. Review: This Sanya Malhotra Starrer Delivers a Strong Feminist Narrative, But Its Rebellion Feels Too Polished

Back in 2021, we were introduced to the incredibly thought-provoking Malayalam feminist film The Great Indian Kitchen, directed by Jeo Baby and starring Nimisha Sajayan, Suraj Venjaramoodu, and T Suresh Babu. When I watched the trailer of Mrs., I was instantly transported back to that moment—when TGIK left me in awe with its powerful narrative and performances. Of course, Hindi cinema adapting films from other languages (and vice versa) is nothing new. It comes with its own set of advantages and drawbacks, but that’s a discussion for another time. Right now, let’s focus on the latest Zee5 release, Mrs., starring Sanya Malhotra.

Mrs. is directed by Arati Kadav and produced by Jio studios and Baweja Studios. The screenplay is written by Anu Singh Choudhary, Harman Baweja, and Kadav, adapting Jeo Baby’s original story from The Great Indian Kitchen, like mentioned before. Sanya Malhotra leads the film as Richa, a newly wed,homemaker, supported by Nishant Dahiya as her husband, Diwakar and Kanwaljit Singh as her father-in-law. The ensemble cast also includes Aparna Ghoshal, Mrinal Kulkarni, Varun Badola, and Lovleen Mishra in key roles. Cinematographer Pratham Mehta captures the film’s intimate domestic setting, while the adaptation shifts the cultural backdrop from Kerala to urban North India, introducing regional nuances such as food preferences and household expectations.

Plot

Mrs. follows Richa, a spirited dance teacher who enters an arranged marriage with Diwakar, a respected gynaecologist. Initially affectionate, their relationship begins to unravel as Richa is gradually confined to household chores, catering to the needs of her husband and father-in-law. The film depicts her daily struggles, from ignored maintenance issues to unending domestic expectations, highlighting gender imbalances within the home. As Richa yearns for independence and attempts to reclaim her identity, she faces resistance from both her in-laws and societal norms. Through its portrayal of marital dynamics and domestic labor, Mrs. examines the silent burdens placed on women in traditional households, much like what Joe Baby's The Great Indian Kitchen. 

What We Like

One of the biggest challenges in adapting a film so closely to its original version is navigating comparisons. No matter how different the style, direction, or setting may be, audiences inevitably draw parallels. However, in the case of Mrs., the advantage lies in the fact that its source material was in a different language. Given that The Great Indian Kitchen was originally a Malayalam film, only a fraction of the Hindi-speaking audience might have seen it at the time, despite the conversation around it gaining traction, particularly due to the religious discourse it sparked. For many viewers, Mrs. might be their first encounter with this story, making it an easy watch for Bollywood fans. That said, for those familiar with the original, Mrs. takes a few creative liberties. The most evident shift is its modernization, translating the story into a more contemporary, urban North Indian household. Even from the teaser, this change in backdrop, from Kerala’s traditional setting to a metropolitan environment, was clear.

Sanya Malhotra. That woman shines through and through in her filmography, and then some more as Richa. I've always admired Sanya’s work, whether it was her debut in Dangal or her performances in Pagglait, Kathal, and Ludo. She has an incredible ability to fully embody her characters, leaving no loose ends in her portrayal.

As Richa, she beautifully captures the essence of a bubbly, newlywed Indian bride—blushing when her husband touches her hand, dutifully bowing before every door-ke chachi, maasi, chacha. But as the days go by, she finds herself trapped in an exhausting, never-ending routine—waking up at 4 AM to grind chutney on a sil-batta because her father-in-law believes mixers destroy vegetable enzymes, or silently cleaning up after her husband and father-in-law, who leave the table covered in leftovers.

Nishant Dahiya delivers a convincing performance as Diwakar, a man caught between his deeply ingrained patriarchal values and a half-hearted attempt at modernity. Meanwhile, Kanwaljit Singh is exceptional as the authoritarian father-in-law, embodying a rigid patriarch whose influence looms over the household as its so-called "head."

What Could Have Been Better

Mrs. effectively conveys how deeply patriarchy is embedded in our society, for both men and women. The idea that women act as enforcers of patriarchy isn’t new; in fact, Ratna Pathak once described them as its "hunting dogs," a sentiment the film powerfully portrays. From the mother waking up at 4 AM to cook, waiting for the men to finish eating before having her meal from their leftover plates, to the father-in-law’s routine—his day doesn’t begin without a glass of ajwain, and he expects his slippers to be placed at his feet every morning. It forces one to ask: where does this end? Does it ever?

That said, while the rebellion in Mrs. is inspiring, it feels overly polished and staged. The film seems underdeveloped in its exploration of defiance, lacking the rawness that made The Great Indian Kitchen so powerful. Perhaps the original’s semi-urban setting played a role in making its message more visceral. In contrast, Mrs. offers more sheen than substance when it comes to the intensity of its rebellion.

The film is likely to resonate well with audiences in tier 1 and tier 2 cities, but certain elements, like the overly dramatic musical sequences, it felt a bit forced, pulling me out of the emotional depth of the moment. The final song, in particular, didn’t evoke the emotions I hoped it would, though the film still managed to deliver a satisfying conclusion.

Mrs. is now streaming on Zee5.