In the contemplative tale directed by Avinash Arun Dhaware, a woman seeks closure prior to her memory failing.
Three Of Us (Hindi)
Director: Avinash Arun Dhaware
Cast: Shefali Shah, Jaideep Ahlawat, Swanand Kirkire, Kadambari Kadam
Run-time: 88 minutes
Storyline: Suffering from early-stage dementia, Shailaja goes back to her former Konkani home and meets her childhood sweetheart again.
Plot:
Memory flows in one direction while time goes in another. What transpires when the two begin to deviate from their natural synchronization? The melancholic film by Avinash Arun depicts the unsettling silence that precedes the dementia’s seismic waves destroying Shailaja’s (Shefali Shah) past—a memory she holds dear, a traumatic experience she has sealed away. She’s reached a point in her life when marriage is as necessary as breathing. Shailaja is familiar with how a relationship gradually deteriorates, having worked in the divorce division of a Mumbai family court. She is a zestful yet effective Mumbai Local.
That is her spouse Dipankar (Swanand Kirkire). He is there for her without really being present because he is in the insurance plan marketing industry. Before her memory fades her, Shailaja wishes to return home to a small Konkan hamlet where she spent the formative years of her adolescence. When Dipankar joins her, we embark on a lyrical voyage that, after a certain age, we all take in our minds but rarely plan ahead for. We share Dipankar’s amazement when we learn that the reserved Shailaja was actually quite the Mogambo in her early years and that she had a Daga in her life. He begins to wonder about his continued significance in her life. The fact that Shailaja is seeing another man is beyond him to comprehend.
The Daga has matured into a calm bank manager with a flair with words named Pradeep Kamat (Jaideep Ahlawat). When he unexpectedly runs into Shailaja more than twenty years later, he rediscovers his poetic spark. His wife Sarika (Kadambari Kadam), like Dipankar, is shocked by her partner’s abrupt change, but she also chooses to give Shailaja room instead of becoming resentful. Since Shailaja doesn’t tell anyone about her failing health, it isn’t out of sympathy. She simply enjoys Shailaja’s desire to take one final look at her past before it fades into obscurity.
With Killa and School of Lies, Avinash skillfully solved the riddle of a child’s gaze in the past. This time, he forces adults to reflect on the past. Avinash’s camera moves in time with Varun Grover’s astute speech and Alokananda Dasgupta’s subtly intrusive background score to create an immersive experience, all without the sappy feeling that such themes often acquire.
Together, they reignite an old spark in Shailaja’s life, preventing it from destroying either her or Pradeep’s present. This ambiguity causes us to reflect on and cling to the tale, which explores the greater meaning of life and how we frequently start new chapters without finishing those we’ve already begun. The movie tackles the anxiety or complication of what if… without making a big issue out of it because it doesn’t deal in binary terms. Grover has provided us with a number of metaphors to ponder games that involve memory and reality play. There is a lot going on beneath the surface of this seemingly simple story that makes you laugh and consider the burdens our consciences bear on a regular basis, whether it’s Shailaja’s English instructor inquiring about the meaning of a picture or an elderly woman bringing to life the tale of a paranormal presence. Toward the end, the Ferris wheel clearly represents life’s cyclical nature.
