Shivi's Take: Kiran Rao

 Shivi's Take: Kiran Rao

A lady who isn't underrated- she is undernoticed, which is worse.

You know that feeling when a film doesn’t scream “Look at me!” but still manages to camp out in your head rent-free? That’s what Kiran Rao’s work does.

I’ve wanted to write about her for a while now because I’m honestly tired of people acting like Laapataa Ladies was her debut. Like-hello? She didn’t just wake up one day and decide to become a filmmaker. She’s been putting in the work for years. If you’ve only now heard of her, that’s not her fault, it’s yours. (Tough love.)

But first, quick (re)intro:
I’m Shivika Sharma — a film student, writer, director-in-the-making, and chronic overthinker with a blog series called Monologues and Movies, where I write about cinema, filmmakers, spirituality and everything that comes to my mind. My books are on Amazon (soft flex), and I do this thing where I say what I really think. Even when it's not popular.

So. Kiran Rao.

Let’s get the facts straight:
She assisted on Lagaan. Yeah, that Lagaan — the one your dad still brings up as “India’s real Oscar moment.” She directed Dhobi Ghat, which, if we’re being honest, was ahead of its time. Maybe too ahead — because audiences weren’t ready for a quiet, lonely, artful film that didn’t explain every single emotion with background music and close-up tears.

She’s also produced some of the most culturally relevant films in recent Indian cinema — Peepli Live (media circus in its truest form), Talaash (yes, the ghost twist was weird, but at least it tried), Dangal, Secret Superstar, and more. Kiran’s always been in the room — just never the one shouting for attention. And maybe that’s why most people missed her.

There’s this beautiful restraint in her work. She doesn’t try to be deep — she just is. Her frames breathe. Her characters exist like real people. And most importantly? Her women aren’t goddesses or messes — they’re just human. And that’s rare in an industry that either glorifies or victimizes women on screen.
(Hot take: If you’re tired of “strong female leads” who act like robots, Kiran’s work will feel like a glass of cold water.)

Now onto Laapataa Ladies.

It’s not my comfort watch. I don’t think I’ll put it on during a breakup or a bad day. But I think about it all the time. Because it says something — not by yelling, but by trusting the audience to listen. The humour is quiet, the pacing is patient, and the emotional payoff is earned.
She didn’t spoon-feed anything. She didn’t treat the audience like babies.
And in an industry obsessed with over-explaining plot points (yes, I’m looking at you, 3-hour melodramas with 6 montages and zero silence), that’s revolutionary.

What I love most about her work is this: it’s proof that you don’t need volume to create impact.
You don’t need melodrama. You don’t need moral policing.
You need intention. And care. And honesty.
Her films feel like a hug with a purpose. Soft, but not spineless. Quiet, but not apologetic.

Laapataa Ladies is my favourite of hers. Not just because it’s a great film — but because it reminded me that even in 2024, a woman filmmaker can tell a small, meaningful story and still shake something in the audience. That’s rare.
And that’s brave.

Kiran Rao doesn’t make cinema for the noise.
She makes it for the pause after. So if you haven't already, PLEASE don't just watch Laapataa Ladies but also her other works because they deserve recognition. 

And me? I want to learn how to do exactly that.

Thanks for reading.
If you’d like to connect (or offer me an internship... just kidding... unless?), here’s my email: shivikaz@gmail.com