In a pivotal scene in Panga, Jaya Nigam, ex-captain
of the Indian women’s kabaddi team,
who at 32, is struggling to make a comeback, says:
Main ek ma hoon aur ma ke koi sapne nahi hote hain.
Every mother understands the
specific hurt in this sentiment.
Because every mother, irrespective of age,
income bracket and background
makes immense personal sacrifices to raise her child.
To be a mother is to be a constantly roiling,
highly combustible fusion of ferocious love,
permanent guilt, eternal anxiousness and a
residue of resentment at the opportunities lost.
Panga, co-written and directed by Ashwiny
Iyer Tiwari, gets that.
Panga is the story of a woman so obsessed
with kabaddi that even seven years after she
has quit the sport, she involuntary
kicks in her sleep.
Marriage and motherhood got in the way of
her dream to play for India
but Jaya isn’t outwardly unhappy.
She has a tender, loving relationship with
her husband Prashant and her son Adi.
She enjoys the pleasures of domesticity but
the thought that she could have been more
gnaws quietly at her soul like a rat working
its way through a hunk of cheese.
She feels keenly the small slights.
Like countless women, she is taken for granted.
Her son doesn’t see her relentless hard
work, either at home or at her railway job.
After all he says: You’re only selling tickets.
Jaya sits behind the counter at the railway
station and watches life going by.
But when Adi finds out what a star his mother
used to be, he pushes her to try again and
Jaya decides to seize the day.
She decides to once again, take a panga.
Panga works on the strength of its 
performances and its writing.
Ashwiny, co-writer Nikhil Mehrotra and Nitesh
Tiwari, who has been credited with additional
screenplay create a lived-in world with 
characterswho have depth and personality.
Jaya isn’t obviously heroic.
She is torn between her family and her passion
and riddled with doubts and insecurities.
Her frustration and vulnerability make her
journey more relatable and more triumphant.
It also helps that Kangana Ranaut plays Jaya
with skill, sensitivity and nuance.
Watch her in the quieter moments like the
scene in which Jaya is going away for training.
Just before she leaves, she stops and 
looks at her own home with longing.
Her uncertainty about her decision is heart-breaking.
Or the scene in the hospital when her son is born.
Her expression captures that rush of love
that a mother feels so beautifully that it
made me tear up.
This is a terrific actor at the 
top of her game.
And yet, Kangana doesn’t monopolize Panga.
Ashwiny gives the other actors equal 
affection and attention.
Mukesh Chhabra’s casting is bang on.
Punjabi singer-actor Jassie Gill is instantly
likeable as a supportive husband
who fights his own limitations –
he’s an Indian man with zero training 
on how to be the primary caretaker.
So all the things that Jaya would do as routine
become big drama, including an edible breakfast.
Prashant’s struggle is a subtle salute to
homemakers whose hard work is rarely celebrated.
At one point, Jaya tells Prashant that if
she had to make a list of all the things she
does to keep their home 
functional, it would fill a book.
Prashant loves his wife but he also
sits at the dining table
waiting to be served his meals.
Jaya also has a job but the home is
 her responsibility – no questions asked.
This is the norm that Prashant 
decides to break.
Jassie plays him with a bumbling sweetness
so you see his shortcomings but you also root for him.
Neena Gupta is reliably lovely 
as Jaya’s mom.
Again, the writing is so solid that her character
makes a big impression in few scenes –
in one, she’s telling Jaya to also give her
credit in press interviews.
There is such love and pride in her voice.
And once again, Ashwiny gently reminds us
of the tireless work that mothers do.
It’s a full-time job for a lifetime.
But the scene stealers of Panga are Richa
Chadha as Jaya’s friend Meenu
and Yagya Bhasin as her son Adi.
Meenu is a tough, no-nonsense kabaddi coach
who tells it like it is.
Adi has the wisdom of a grown man but his
precociousness never tips into annoying.
Which is a tough balance
These two get some of the film’s best lines.
They also deliver some of the film’s
most potent messaging.
But Ashwiny tempers this with humor and lightness.
Thankfully, Panga never gets shrill.
It does however get flat in the second half.
I think, after so many sports films, including
Nitesh’s own masterful Dangal,
I’m a little fatigued with training 
montages and matches.
We know that the underdog will eventually
win – that is the cardinal rule of the sports film.
So directors try different ruses 
to notch up the tension.
Here Ashwiny succeeds only partially.
Some will argue that Panga is
too sanitized and optimistic.
The actual struggle of a mother picking up
a career again is much harder.
Of course it is.
But for now, I’ll take the warmth and 
hope that this film offers.
I hope you will too.
 
