The frenetic pace and subsequent anxiety of modern urban life receive a welcome time out in Subhadra Mahajan’s feature debut, Second Chance.
Set amidst the magnificent landscapes of the Western Himalayas, and shot in beautiful monochrome, Mahajan’s first film – which she has written and directed – premieres in the Proxima Competition in Karlovy Vary and depicts a journey of suffering, recovery, and rebirth. Departing the city in favour of a rural haven, its protagonist acclimatises to the rhythms of a different kind of life that allow her the space to psychically and emotionally heal not just herself but others too. In the crux of a specifically female pain, Second Chance uses gentle drama punctuated with regular humour to galvanise renewal. Despite its chilly seasonal setting, the film is like a warm embrace.
When the story begins, Nia (Dheera Johnson) has retreated from New Dehli to the snow-capped mountains of Himachal Pradesh. An overheard voice message bristling with desperate energy tells us that she has fallen pregnant to her boyfriend Kabir and has been driven to take some pills to instigate an illicit termination, so her parents won’t find out. As she hides out in their old family home in the hills, surrounded by the locals that look after the place, she continues trying to contact Kabir with no luck. Meanwhile, she must hunker down in the increasing winter cold and when the caretaker of the house leaves on urgent business, Nia is left with his crabby old mother-in-law, Bhemi (Thankri Devi), and her tearaway 8-year-old grandson, Sunny (Kanav Thakur) for company.
Their time together is a mixed bag of anguish and comedy. Nia is a big city girl who wears her evident privilege nonchalantly while attempting to keep the reason for her visit quiet. She tells everyone that she is just there for a break, to help clear her head, keeping her recent abortion private. There is an inclination that she wants to share her pain with her sister, but in a phone call in which we only see Nia’s side, it becomes clear that her sister has just found out she is pregnant and cannot fly out there. Around her, Bhemi tries to get on with the everyday labours of working life in poor, rural India – spinning yarn for a local shepherd, preparing their meals. She is constantly chiding Sunny who races around the place pretending to be Superman or forcing Nia in a cricket match. Reports from school say he’s difficult and a troublemaker and when he secretly tries to adopt a stray cat only for it ruin all of Bhemi’s spinning, you can see why.
The transformation that Nia undergoes during her time at the house is not just one of repairing her own body and coming to terms with her recent trauma. There is a more fundamental shift for her in how the experience of recuperation heals deeper ailments than just her most recent. Through snippets of conversation, we come to learn about Nia’s difficulties in successfully settling on a career – much to the chagrin of her father – but also that this is perhaps because she has given up her dreams of becoming a dancer in favour of following other people’s ideas about what she should do. In the process of healing alongside Bhemi and Sunny, she comes to attain an essential sense of inner peace that resonates with empathy. This is not a quality that is gendered, but in Nia’s situation, it is difficult not to equate this change in her with a burgeoning maternalism that she perhaps didn’t feel before. This is most evident in the way her relationship with Sunny evolves over the course of the film, from her initial refusal to engage with him or doing so under duress – offering some of the film’s funnier moments – to coming to understand him more. His mother, Bhemi’s daughter, died in childbirth and Sunny is under the impression that she lives on the moon now. His repeated – grating – playacting as Superman is revealed to be a desire to fly and visit her and a scene in which Nia showing him footage of the moon landings, and explaining what an astronaut is prove surprisingly poignant.
All three characters are, in their own ways, due another opportunity having been written off in some way and Mahajan’s screenplay brilliantly weaves together their stories. A lot is required of her performers, though, and all three are exceptional. Dheera Johnson does stand out, and her portrayal of Nia is intricately layered and contradictory, allowing her to be flawed and unsure while remaining incredibly appealing. Her background in dance also helps as some scenes in which Nia processes her feelings through private performance – while having the potential to be off-putting – are vital and moving. She’s also brilliantly aided by Takri Devi and Kanav Thakur who steal most scenes and are non-professional actors, cast from the local area. They may add a geographical and social authenticity to Second Chance, but it’s central story conveys its most precious and pertinent truths.
Director, screenplay: Subhadra Mahajan
Cast: Dheera Johnson, Thakri Devi, Kanav Thakur, Rajesh Kumar, Ganga Ram
Producer: Shyam Bora
Cinematography: Swapnil Suhas Sonawane
Editing: Tinni Mitra
Music: Quan Bay
Sound: Anirban Borthakur
Production design: Namra Parikh
Production company: Metanormal Motion Pictures, Latent Pictures (India)
World Sales: Diversion
Venue: Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Proxima Competition)
In Hindi, English & Kullavi
104 minutes
Read more of the team’s coverage of KVIFF 2024.
