As the opening credits for Godmother roll, Shabana Azmi's defiant face walks into the frame. She strikes a match, lights up her cigarette and stares straight back at your eyes, almost burning holes through them. It is the look that makes you sit up and take notice. In that fraction, both the actress and director Vinay Shukla ensure that you're completely clued into what unwinds thereafter. And this surely is the hallmark of any significant film.

So, if there are comparisons being drawn between Godmother (a deliberate allusion to Godfather?) and Bandit Queen it's not entirely without reason. What they have in common, apart from a realistic picture of caste-ridden societies in two different parts of India and their worsening consequences, are two extraordinary women. And the dreadful repercussions of their unfortunate choices.

Godmother is the story of Rambhi (Shabana Azmi), who moves to a nearby town with her husband Veeram (Milind Gunaji) when drought strikes their village. Veeram killsa man who's a sworn enemy of their `Mer' community and becomes a hero-don overnight. Wily politician Keshubhai (Govind Namdev) pounces on this opportunity, befriends Veeram and uses him, till Veeram unwittingly kills an innocent man at Keshubhai's behest. Rambhi persuades him to take a vow of non-violence before their community goddess, but Veeram meets a brutal death soon after.

Rambhi avenges his death with the help of brother-in-law Meru and trusted aide (Nirmal Pandey), in the process walking the dangerous path of mindless violence and treacherous politicking herself. She uses Keshubhai as a ladder to power and outwits his bid to pit Meru against her. Now Rambhi, saviour of the downtrodden, is almost invincible.

Till one false move by her immature son Karsan drives her to the brink of doom -- and the ensuing drama finally makes her question her past actions.

Godmother has the one ingredient most Hindi films lack -- a sound script which goes by logical progression. The story has a purpose and amessage and both come across well, with minimal reliance on melodrama. However, there are a couple of slips towards the end -- like Karsan's sudden transformation from brat to Mama's obedient boy. Or even Rambhi's own change of heart over something seemingly trivial. She has compromised on almost every count to first get and then keep her chair.

So how does she give it up so easily? Barring these misgivings, there's little you can fault Shukla and his team on. Vishal Bharadwaj's music and background score are outstanding, as is Rajan Kothari's cinematography and Renu Saluja's editing. But above all, it's Shukla's hard-hitting dialogues questioning age-old institutions like the caste system which make the film remarkable.

Yet another notable feature of the film is casting. From Milind Gunaji to Govind Namdev and Nirmal Pandey, and the three youngsters, all add a certain level of authenticity.

But more than anyone else, it's Shabana Azmi's superb act that makes Godmother memorable. Not once does her toneor accent slip, not for a moment does she lose her bearings, never is there an effort to steal the show. You almost feel like she was born into this role. For her alone, Godmother a film you cannot afford to miss.

Sangharsh

The operative word with Sangharsh is LOUD! Looks like Tanuja Chandra believes `hysterics are equal to histrionics'. So, the entire film is marked by grotesque sounds that are meant to send a chill down your spine, but only manage to put you off. Such a Mahesh Bhatt trademark yes, he's been credited with the story. At least Dushman had a well-etched central character. Here, despite lifting the entire plot from Silence Of The Lambs, Bhatt and co. have managed to make a royal mess.

Anyway, the plot unfolds in Delhi, where CBI research trainee Reet Oberoi (Priety Zinta) lives with her screechy grandmother. Her boss summons her for a `difficult' assignment and despatches her to Mumbai to track down escaped convict Lajjashankar Pandey (Ashutosh Rana) who specialises in hackinginnocent children.

Now Reet is an expert at just about everything; but she has one blind spot. She is afraid of darkness. In Mumbai, Reet is supposed to seek the help of another dreaded criminal, `Professor' Aman Verma (Akshay Kumar), who's a whimsical genius with an acid tongue. But he's the key to tracing Lajjashankar, since he knows all the goings-on in the underworld. So Reet goes to meet Aman at `Matunga Jail' (where is that?). Professor's brightly-lit jail cell (?) is stacked with books (??). After lecturing her about the hypocrisy of politicians etc, he finds himself getting drawn towards her, and decides to help her.

Meanwhile, there's an ACP (Madan Jain) who doesn't like Reet and wants to grab Lajjashankar and the credit of his capture. So he tries every trick in the book to pack her off to Delhi. After a few altercations, Reet gets off the case officially, but makes it a personal mission to catch Lajjashankar.

And he, being a fanatic devotee of Kali maa, wants to sacrifice the minister's sonon the day of the solar eclipse, which is fast approaching. And even as the police try to beat the `prof' into divulging information, he escapes from prison and takes off with Reet to find the child.

Now, the film's climax is disgusting. There is too much uncalled-for violence. Rana is meant to terrorise you, but the value of understatement is totally lost on him (perhaps on Chandra too). Akshay Kumar does a good job of his part though his character could have looked more credible. The only person who makes Sangharsh tolerable is Priety Zinta. She uses her expressive face to maximum advantage and tries to project Reet's apprehensions, fears, pain and passion with sincerity. But even her effort doesn't make Sangharsh worthwhile.

-- Deepa Deosthalee