Baaji needs a break

This review is my opinion and contains spoilers.

“Uncle, do you really think I can become a film star?”
“There is no ‘Uncle’ in this business.”

There’s much to be said about “Baaji,” a 2019 Pakistani film directed by Saqib Malik, and its depiction of society tearing down a female icon over the years because someone younger than her can do the same role. The film doesn’t veer into territory, speaking to the heart of why criticism for more experienced female actresses exists. When it could talk about how male actors are not considered to “age out” of their professions nearly as often (or at all, in the case of Naseeruddin Shah’s character in “The Dirty Picture,” for which there are many similarities in production design), it simply tries to show that its star is desirable. The thing that hurts her is her way of handling conflict. The consequences for her actions are misattributed to her simply fading out of the limelight when it’s merely her standards and fierce demand that others match up to them. The first scene shows Shameera (Meera) demanding another twenty-something take during a dance number because she isn’t satisfied. In the subsequent take, she sprains her ankle. When she sees the number being filmed without her, she smacks the director (a moment caught on camera and made viral). She tells him, “You can love me or hate me, but you can never replace me!” The negative attention she subsequently gets about being unable to keep up is implicated because of her age, where she directs her attention (and, at times, an obsession) to making a non-issue.

Shameera seeks the spotlight, even as the negativity looms. Otherwise, the people seeking to manage her career want to bring her to the theater (a dancing show where a large crowd of mostly men throws cash at the performer). Shameera’s supposedly younger partner, Ramiz (Ali Kazmi), wants her to forget the tensions of show business and go with her to the UK to settle down and have children. She pushes him away, devoted to the millions of fans she knows are waiting for her. Ramiz goes to the theater, where he’s asked if he wants to take any of the performers home. He gives the deposit to Shameera back and tries his best to get back into Shameera’s life, even thinking of raising one million pounds to produce a film for Shameera to star in. While he’s spiraling trying to get back into her life, Shameera finds another companion. She goes to a massage parlor after her injury, and the only masseuse available is an earnest, star-struck Neha (Amna Ilyas). Trying to be respectful, she calls Shameera “Baaji” and then asks if it is correct. Shameera gives an exception to Neha. Neha tells Shameera everything she wants to hear, from the latest gossip about her to lamentation about how much more attention she should be receiving. Shameera gives her a big tip, which Neha spends at the mall. Neha’s brother, a rickshaw driver, finds her work unrespectable and refuses a gift she bought. Neha loses her job after telling Shameera she can give private sessions. In her request for work, Neha finds herself in a lover’s spat between Shameera and her Ramiz. She pretends to call the police and manages to get Ramiz. Shameera hires Neha as her manager.

As their careers grow and merge, Shameera is not okay being Neha’s, or anyone’s, Baaji. Shameera is invited to a show to speak about her history (a romantic musical scene from what looks like the 80s plays in the background), and soon joining her on the couch is a Pakistani Hollywood director, Rohail Khan (Osman Khalid Butt), who wants to cast a classic face like Shameera’s in his film to revitalize the Pakistani film industry. Before he does, he looks at Neha, who seems excited at the proposition of them working together through Shameera. Shameera begins having feelings for Rohail, who plays with her feelings. Shameera thinks these feelings are true, but she’s more accurate about the signals being read around her between Neha and Rohail. Despite Neha’s and Rohail’s pleas, Shameera gives Neha time off to return to her mohalla. What could be the next day, Shameera walks in on Neha and Rohail rehearsing a love scene which, despite the scripts in their hands, comes off as genuine. Neha shows Baaji the script, but Shameera fires Neha and throws back the Baaji title.

Later in the film, one of the men who solicited Shameera for the theater, Chand Kamal (Nayyer Ejaz), is seen hunting for hungry male talent in Neha’s neighborhood. He predates Aji (Mohsin Abbas Haider), who is often after Neha, convincing him that he can become a film star. The film only goes as far as the casting couch implication; it is shown to the extent that Chand Kamal enjoys a topless photoshoot with the younger man, ending with Chand Kamal using Aji to plot notoriety schemes for Shameera with Ramiz. Chand Kamal’s comment about no “uncle or auntie” in the business is one way of hiding the natural hierarchy that comes with experience and seniority. In this case, there is an insistence that there isn’t a hierarchy where there is one. What’s worse is that such a dynamic comes off as though it isn’t capable of exploiting if everyone is equal. Everyone doesn’t need to start calling each other by cultural referents of respect, but it seems fine to accept it if it means acknowledging a power dynamic. At (almost) each stage of the client-server dynamic between Shameera and Neha, Shameera acknowledges the distance between them to create understanding and closeness. When Neha does a task well, Shameera supports her and expresses closeness. This process creates equity as Neha becomes better at her job and earns the lifestyle Shameera has merely by proximity. Even though Shameera does tell Neha to stop calling her Baaji, it’s only at the first termination attempt. When Neha is hired again, she comes back to her Baaji. It’s only in a world where they owe nothing, have no appreciation, or have a relationship with each other without Baaji.

You can watch Baaji on Prime.