

Rakhee returns to cinema as Shubhra, the changemaker, who has a tip or two for everyone about caring for aging parents while balancing professional responsibilities. A Silhouette Review by Antara.
Aamar Boss poster
Who is the Boss in Aamar Boss? But of course, it is Rakhee Gulzar. In more ways than one. Not only does she essay the title role, she carries the story of two generations struggling to find common ground squarely on her still-capable shoulders.
Rakhee, who possibly last graced the silver screen in 2003 (in Rituparno Ghosh’s Shubho Mahurat), steps back into the spotlight with the poise and gravitas that made her one of the most admired actors of her time.
The opening shots place the film right into its context with a collage of shots of people from various professions and walks of life, ranging from corporate honchos and gig workers to doctors and autorickshaw drivers. The phone rings in the middle of their busy work lives. It is Maa calling. The reply is the same: “Maa, I am busy, will call you later.” The malaise is all across the board. There is no time to spare, even a few words for your old parents.
Shubhra Goswami (Rakhee) is one such mother, leading a sedentary life at home with her son Animesh (Shiboprosad Mukherjee) who mercifully does have some time to lend a listening ear to his mother, book an Ola for her in the middle of a presentation or feed her when she throws a tantrum. Thus when she decides to come to his office, despite his protests, he allows her to join in as a “trainee” in his publishing company.
Not surprisingly, the publishing company, like most publishers today, is struggling with dipping printed book sales. The office, located in a plush building possibly in the Newtown area, has a chic modern interior. Shubhra, self-assigns herself the job of an assistant proofreader to help out the harassed proofreader who gets an earful from Animesh.
Each of the employees has a personal life, a challenge or a problem – an autistic child, an old and ailing lonely parent, a long-distance marriage and so on. Animesh is unaware of these issues as he has never attempted to know his employees beyond their professional responsibilities. Also, his attitude of admonishing an employee in front of the whole team has created a chasm between him and his team. His marriage is in tatters, his wife Moushumi (Srabanti Chatterjee) has moved to Mumbai and also filed for divorce. It is not the happiest of times for him.
Shubhra steps into this widening gap between her son and his employees. She chooses to have lunch with the employees in the company’s terrace canteen rather than with her son in his cabin, revamps the boring menu introducing funky dishes, draws out each employee to share his or her personal story, gets new utensils, groceries and uniforms for the housekeeping staff, in short, helps the office get a quiet and organized makeover. ‘Your families must know where you work’ she tells her team, and for the first time, the employees proudly bring their families to the colourful Saraswati Puja function organised on the terrace.
There lies Shubhra’s exceptional management skills. She does not challenge her son’s authority, nor does she get in his way. She simply brings back smiles and laughter, positivity and enthusiasm, and the spirit to value relationships amid the stressed-out professional workspace. Aamar Boss is replete with sweet and tangy management lessons that do not sound didactic.
Shubhra’s decision to turn the office storeroom into a day care for the parents of the employees is a daring and unique initiative. Who has heard of a day care facility for old people on the office premises? This isn’t even CSR. You have old homes, or day care nursing at home for them. “Parents are baggage,” yells Animesh, exasperated at his irrepressible mother’s determination to give shape to her idea of a “creche” for the old parents, turning on their head his grand plans to rent out the space to a foreign company. But Shubhra is unfazed. Productivity, time management, creativity and output will all see an upward growth when your mind is relaxed, knowing your parents are well-cared for while you are busy at work, she believes.
Shubhra is a picture of quiet determination, dignity, and empathy, going around building intuitive relationships with all the employees. They don’t remember she is the mother of their Boss who never smiles. To them, she is “Maa” or “Mashi”(aunt), someone with whom they can share their worries and sorrows. Rakhee’s softly spoken words, impish smile, and eyes that speak a thousand words make her screen presence a delight to watch. And for sari lovers, her choice of saris (from her personal collection) is a visual treat – each one perfectly tuned to the situation, her mood and the ambience of the scene.
Film director, writer and actor Shiboprosad Mukherjee, who co-directs Aamar Boss with Nandita Roy, plays his role well. He is a loving son and a rather obnoxious boss who pulls up his team members for late coming, mistakes and missed deadlines. While you insult them in front of others, did you ever appreciate or applaud them for good work, Shubhra asks her son. It is the tone that matters most. The intimate chat between the mother and the son at the Polo Floatel restaurant with the sun setting on the Hooghly in the backdrop is one of the several endearing scenes in the film. This reality check from his mother does prompt Animesh to attempt a change in his behaviour.
Aamar Boss
The band of young women actors, Aishwarya Sen, Sauraseni Maitra and Avery Singha Roy playing the employees, look good on screen, with designer attire, straightened flowing hair but do not give the impression of working in a professional office. Comparatively, Shruti Das looks convincing as a woman in a long-distance marriage, balancing her job and looking after her in-laws. The Shiboprosad and Srabanti pairing lacks chemistry and even with a theme song Malachandan in the background, it does not touch a chord. Several scenes are melodramatic — be it Moushumi getting drunk or the day-care attendees rushing into the conference room in the middle of a meeting or squabbling over the washroom. The film could have certainly done with a tighter script and editing.
Whether it is practical to have a day-care centre for the elders in office premises, whether it is feasible for employees to bring their parents with them over long distances and have lunch with them during the lunch break, whether it works as a business model or CSR initiative and so on is another debate for another day. What stands out in Aamar Boss is the intent of the message – you needed your parents when you were growing up and they need you now. Find a way to take care of them while you are away. Simple.
Sabitri Chatterjee, the veteran actress, known for her spontaneous, unfettered histrionics all through her career, has lost none of her spark. Her eccentric tirades at the physio, the doctor and fellow attendees in the day care send the audience into splits. When the end credits roll, we see her playing a game of Snakes & Ladders with Rakhee and the constant chatter looks just as unscripted as it can be. It ensures the audience stays seated through the credits.
Aamar Boss is a film you can go to with your family, just as this writer did — three generations together. Each one, from the octogenarian father and the teen daughter, to the middle-aged husband, enjoyed the film in their own way.
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A very visual film review! You had me hooked to my ‘seat’, ‘watching’ with you! Now waiting for this film to come on YT so I can watch it ‘again’!