Zwigato
Nandita Das (director and writer), Samir Patil
(writer), Ranjan Palit (cinematography), Jabeen Merchant (editor)
Kapil Sharma, Shahana Goswami (cast)
 |
| Image credit: Courtesy of TIFF |
The gig economy has become part and parcel of modern-day life. Algorithms, contactless deliveries, and star-ratings are all the rage. But what do the people on the other side have to put up with on the daily? That’s the essence of Zwigato, the latest by Indian writer-director Nandita Das.
The film follows
Manas (Kapil Sharma), a food-app delivery driver. Manas used to be a manager but was laid off during the pandemic. Now he’s desperate to make ends meet for
his family, but the Zwigato app he works for is a nightmare. Manas’ earnings
are tied to how many orders he gets, how efficiently he can complete them, what
kind of customers he encounters, and various hoops that he and his fellow delivery
drivers must jump through.
But Manas
doesn’t have a choice. He's the sole breadwinner for a family that includes his
wife Pratima (Shahana Goswami), his ailing mother, and his two rambunctious
children. Realizing that he can’t do it on his own, especially since Manas can
never reach the elusive daily quota of deliveries, Pratima applies for a
cleaning job and takes up opportunities as a masseuse. This adds to the tension
among the couple—in many Indian families, even now, wives are expected to stay
home with their domestic duties, and going out to work is looked down upon.
Manas falls into this category, but how long can the family survive on his
meagre Zwigato earnings?
Zwigato is a perfectly-crafted relentless look at the gig economy. Much of
the story feels relevant to a universal audience because corporate greed and
capitalism are kicking all of us in our behinds. But there are peculiarities to
life in India such as religious fear, caste discrimination or the vast wealth disparity,
all of which rear their heads in the film. What Das and co-writer Samir Patil
do so well is that they include all these relevant elements in the film without
overloading it, or coming across as preachy. These injustices are an unfortunate
and infuriating part of India, and they’re essential to the story.
The film
is set in Bhubaneswar, which is an unusual location for an Indian film. Most
films take place in metropolitan cities, so setting Zwigato in Bhubaneswar
gives the film a singular look. The city itself plays a character in the film. Manas
traverses its bustling, crowded roads and interacts with drivers speaking myriad languages and dialects. While Manas’ family makes do with a cramped
one-bedroom house that’s poorly lit and has outdated facilities, the homes that
he delivers food to are palatial houses and apartments, modern and spacious. These
disparities exist all over the world, but Zwigato is honest about how
prevalent it is in India.
The way
the Zwigato app is presented also feels realistic. With the interface, the gimmicks, and the persistent ringing, one would have assumed that the app was real. It isn’t—Das
and Patil were inspired by two real Indian food delivery apps.
The film
is tightly plotted—there are no contrivances and no melodrama. It’s a look at
the lives of the central couple and it rarely veers away from it. We look at
the world from Manas and Pratima’s points of view. I feel like Pratima could
have had more screen time; she disappeared from chunks of the film when we could
have had more parallels between husband and wife. Despite that, the message is
clear.
Kapil
Sharma is a renowned comedian in India, but you wouldn’t know it when watching
this film. He’s incredibly believable as Manas and his chemistry with Shahana
Goswami gives their on-screen relationship gravitas. Goswami is also great in the
role of Pratima, and you believe this is a woman who carries the weight of the
family on her shoulders.
Throughout
the film, I wondered how it would end. Would it be a Bollywood ending with some
overly dramatic revelation or conclusion? Would it be abrupt or worse,
ambiguous? Somehow Das and Patil stick the landing with a charming ending that’s
less a conclusion and more a continuation. I’m so impressed.
Despite
the relentless bleakness of what Manas and Pratima face, the film has several
moments of levity that elicited plenty of laughter at the packed screening I attended.
There’s some banter among the characters that felt so natural, that you couldn’t
help but laugh.
Zwigato is a realistic look at how the pandemic has affected swathes of people, and how corporations and the gig economy take advantage of those who are most disadvantaged. The film is brilliantly paced to develop the characters, the dynamics of the city, and the political situation of India today. Zwigato was an unmissable watch at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival.
Comments