Zubeidaa: The Story Of A Princess

A film journalist goes on a quest to discover the truth about his mother Zubeidaa (Kapoor), a one-time film actress who abandoned her child to marry the love of her life Vijayendra Singh (Bajpai), the Raja of a princely state in Northern India. In the course of his quest he meets all the principle characters in his mother's life, and their tales are told in a series of flashbacks.

Kapoor's performance is exceptionally good. She is not afraid of showing the spoilt, selfish, jealous side to a complex, modern, urban Muslim woman chafing against tradition. Rekha is perfect for the role of the Maharajah's first wife Mandira. She brings so much more to the part than her apparently eternal youth and beauty. As a top heroine from the 70s she became known both as glamour personified and for an alleged affair with superstar Amitabh Bachchan. She is now cast in the Indian imagination as the eternal other woman - just right for a first wife who is more elegant and sexy than the second. Manoj Bajpai doesn't come off so well as the Maharaja - he is either full on Mr Lover Lover or nothing.

Zubeidaa is one of a new breed of crossover films coming out of India since the late 90s. Bridging the gap between arthouse and commercial cinema, it fuses the best of both worlds - great songs and a script that resists navel-gazing. While it didn't set the box office on fire it didn't do too badly in the urban centres and has encouraged others to take the crossover genre further.

This was the first time director Benegal had stepped out of purely arthouse production and into the demanding world of commercial cinema. Zubeidaa allowed him to demonstrate just what a good director he is - the material is handled sensitively but robustly and there is an attention to detail often lacking in full-on commercial Bollywood.

One of the wonderful things about the film is AR Rahman's score. Here he makes the kind of music he does best: period music that feels totally modern. Talking about the film he explained he'd drawn inspiration from Benegal's own taste in music. While it must have been refreshing for Rahman to work with a director who clearly loves and understands music, it was also an opportunity for him to try out new approaches. The haunting refrain, 'So saye hain', ('Lost in slumber/Gone forever/Are the tales of the heart'), which repeats throughout the film has no backbeat but is entirely held together by the voice. For this he uses Lata Mangeshka, the nightingale of India who has been singing since the 50s. No one else can match her voice for weight or experience.