Queen (2014): Myself, Rani

91. Queen (2014) — OK, I waited way too long before writing my reflections on this one so the reality of the film is probably going to be compromised … but here goes.


I like this film. Left me smiling. I could not recognise the Kangana Ranaut of Gangster (an eyeroller of a film, that one), and there was a kind of joyful, artless authenticity to everyone and everything. No one is that bad, or that saintly; nothing is quite the end of the world, or the beginning of a fairytale. What we get is the crushing of a caterpillar’s dream and the cracking of a butterfly’s cocoon. Then — Revelation. Dignity. Identity. Good stuff. Even with the awkward “Japanese” guy.

I resonated most with the slow and steady flashback-awakenings of our queen as to all the tiny papercuts that made That Guy (such a good actor, Rajkummar Rao — loved to hate him) all too wrong for her. (I also resonated with the lead’s irrepressible auntie-ness — I love how she’s never other than herself even as she blossoms.) Why do I need a movie to tell me how to process my feelings? I’m sorry and not sorry. And thankful.

Happy thanks to Sayesha for introducing this gem, and feeding me before it!


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