Aaro Ek Prithibi

Atanu Ghosh’s Aaro Ek Prithibi is the kind of solid, non-genre ‘content’ OTT platforms are made for. It’s not just a missing-person film, the story seemingly runs deeper and has room for intricacy. Formatting the narrative as a two-hour movie and compressing the sentiments sets it up for failure. The rules of big-screen dramatisation have changed in the last few years and not every script needs or even benefits from the big-screen treatment (feature makers like Srijit Mukherji and Pradipta Bhattacharya have been quick to notice, re: Feluda and Birohi respectively).
It may sound harsh, but this is a good thing for stories like Aaro Ek Prithibi which need more time for better frames and vivid character designs. The film comes across as a heavily distilled odyssey of some sort, like an undercooked personal saga that never really shines because it's been told wrong.
Bangladeshi actor Tasnia Farin plays Pratiksha, a woman who lands in London to join her techie husband Aritro (Shaheb). She realises soon enough that he’s been missing for a few days. No one seems to know his whereabouts, be it his landlady or his co-workers. She refuses to return home or report to the embassy or even file a missing person’s report. Pratiksha gets help from a local woman named Ayesha (Anindita) and a street musician named Srikanto (Kaushik). Nothing substantial really happens for the first 80 minutes; there’s no sense of conflict or even real danger (except maybe a gunshot).
Characters come and go without really adding much to the story; even the primary characters don’t get an arc which is one of the most disappointing aspects of the film. Ayesha is a student counsellor who’s had to resort to sugar-dating rich B-school students in the wake of a pandemic, Kaushik’s Srikanto is a modern interpretation of Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s vagabond literary hero, Pratiksha gets some crucial life skills from her convict father. There’s enough material for a rich tapestry of individual stories. But the screenplay never gets to the point where traumas are fully realised or get to peak.
It’s never clear what Pratiksha is feeling unless she actually spells it out. She’s a brooder with no answers, a townie with a chip on her shoulder. It’s a terrific idea for a main woman, but it’s lacking in real emotional substance. There’s a moment when Srikanto asks her to throw away her SIM card so she wouldn’t be tracked. “Is there anyone who’s desperate for your news and calls you every day?” Srikanto asks her. It’s moments like these where you reap the rewards of good character writing but there's no telling why Ghosh refuses to cash in on some real drama.
Ghosh excels at human dramas; he knows how to make his audiences care. He’s deft with big emotional payoffs, not just in films like Binisutoy and Mayurakshi but also titles like Abby Sen which are trickier to define. By those standards, Aaro Ek Prithibi feels quite prosaic; its script feels weirdly sparse. It doesn’t just underwhelm but also leaves you frustrated because it’s a script brimming with potential. However, the attention to detail in the film is impressive and quite stylised, but chances are they’ll go unappreciated if audiences are scrambling to find a real connection with the story in the first place. Aritro’s fate too could have been packaged differently and could have used some firepower or real suspense.
Tasnia pulls off some heavy work, but her character could have tapped a different vein. Her character reveals a rather dramatic skill in the last few minutes of the film, but it’s all so rushed, she gets no moment of glory. Anindita and Kaushik are effortless, and the secondary characters are well-cast. Debojyoti Mishra’s music is a good addition. If you have two hours this weekend and you’re in the mood for a light-touch thriller that doesn’t need you to sink your teeth, this would be a smart watch.