Chaudhrani (1999)
Cast: Anjuman, Shaan, Saima, Saud, Sana, Shafqat Cheema
Director: Hassan Askari
Synopsis: The usual vengeance-filled, violence-laden formula given a feminist twist.
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

Chaudhrani was keenly anticipated upon release, as it brought Punjabi cinema’s favourite daughter back to the silver screen, where she belonged. Anjuman chose Chaudrani as the film to relaunch her career after a handful of years of exile. The film also garnered several National Award nominations, suggesting massive critical acclaim. It also did well at the box office—fans welcomed back their favourite “Dhee Punjab Di” with open arms.

Sadly, the comeback was to go awry after this movie, which remains the only success of her handful of return ventures.

Hassan Askari received a Best Director nomination, and Anjuman received a nod for Best Actress in a supporting role. The film is the usual heady concoction of vengeance-filled warring tribes and “khaandaans” all at each other’s throats to exact vengeance for their “izzat” being tarnished or their “Ghairat” being questioned.

In this particular instance, we are shown a village in what is supposedly typical rural Punjab. However, the twist this time is the town’s feudal lord, presiding over everyone’s destiny, is a woman, the Chaudhrani. The townspeople, all men, cower at her mere presence and fall at her feet in admiration and respect. The whole town lives in her shadow and in awe of her might, her staggering beauty, and her dedication to dispensing the perfect impartial judgment. Indeed, she is the envy of most neighboring localities, stuck with the usual paunchy buffoon with a big hairy moustache, a gruff voice, and a pea brain as their local lord.

The Chaudhrani has a soft spot for her dim-witted younger brother, Chan, played by an oddly grunting and scowling Shaan. The brother and sister rule the locality. We learn that their father, the great Chaudhury, had been bludgeoned down by a neighboring pretender in a mad rage over six inches of turf, or some such earth-shatteringly important matter. Anjuman is told by her trusty advisor that she ought to employ a young firebrand named Achoo (Saud) to protect Chan from all the goons he comes across in his everyday frolics. Chan, unfortunately, likes hanging around with heavies and frequents the local “kotha”, where the dancing belle within has a gigantic crush on him.

Saud is generally a decent sort – a simpleton but a good bloke. His main claim to fame is that the village rustic ”kisaan’s” daughter, who happens to be the local bombshell, is madly in love with him, and the two are due to marry.

Chaudhrani

Unfortunately, one fine day, the spoilt brat Chan sets his eyes on the bombshell, and his world is never again the same. As is his right as a Chaudhary, he throws a massive tantrum and swears all sorts of havoc and mayhem unless he is married instantly to the Bombshell, Saima.

The Chaudrani is put on the spot and must decide between her devotion to the bratty brother or justice. It’s a monumental struggle, especially as kid brother Chan starts behaving like a total git, having an almighty sulking fit.

Unfortunately, this all turns ugly as every village member happens to be armed with an automatic rifle. It can make for some pretty explosive petty arguments. Matters move relentlessly, and the clash between brother and sister sizzles to a blood-curdling climax.

Some stunning twists follow, with one at the climax to top that of The Sixth Sense. Anjuman turns in a dynamic performance, as expected from a superstar of her stature. She lights up the screen with her presence and completely dominates the show. Shaan is remarkable as the younger brother, scowling, grunting, and shouting throughout the show. The machismo is simply leaping out of his every pore, especially his fake moustache (Badger, not Bristle)!

Saima has nothing to do except leap about vigorously for a couple of energetic dance numbers in the cornfields. She does, however, cut quite an imposing figure in those devilishly cut salwar suits, tailored perfectly to accentuate her every curve, and doesn’t she know it? Saud has little to do, and Sana has even less scope than the obligatory mujra and some feeble last-minute dramatics. Shafqat Cheema is awful as a bumpkin, shouting at the top of his voice whenever he is on screen. The film is pretty run-of-the-mill, vengeance-filled rubbish but is elevated from the sea of similar garbage by Anjuman’s performance and sheer star quality, which shows why she has ruled for three decades.

The music is neither a strength nor the tedious fight scenes, though Shaan’s gazelle shoot is enjoyable. Anjuman, however, saves the day!