Friday, July 2, 2021

Skater Girl: Rolls with style

Skater Girl (2021) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for no particular reason
Available via: Netflix

Coming-of-age sagas aren’t always about surviving adolescence or the angst-laden teen years; sometimes the focus concerns finding one’s bliss.

 

Although initially frightened by this new "toy," Prerna (Rachel
Saanchita Gupta) soon becomes infatuated with her skateboard,
thanks to help from her little brother Ankush (Shafin Patel).
Director/co-writer Manjari Makijany’s Skater Girl is a sweet, heartfelt study of the uncomfortable clashes between expectation and desire, between tradition and disruption.

Teenage Prerna (Rachel Saanchita Gupta, in a deeply touching acting debut) lives a grinding, joyless life in a remote village in Rajasthan, India. Her expression, her very bearing, is resigned and withdrawn. Smiles are infrequent; she’s old enough to realize that her future holds little — if anything — beyond an arranged marriage and then remaining within this same poverty-laden community.

 

The one bright spark is her mischievous little brother, Ankush (Shafin Patel), whose effervescence is impossible to ignore. He can draw a rare grin from Prerna, because he isn’t old enough to understand the notion of limitations. Indeed, he’s puzzled by the fact that he shouldn’t mix with the upper-class students at his school.

 

The dynamic shifts with the arrival of Jessica (Amy Maghera), a London-bred advertising exec who wants to learn more about her late father’s childhood. All the children find her a fascinating novelty; their parents regard her with wary suspicion. Jessica is charmed (as are we) by the resourcefulness with which these children fabricate playthings from scrap material, particularly in the case of Ankush’s rudimentary skateboard.

 

Jessica, trying hard to tread carefully, is relieved by the unexpected arrival of Erick (Jonathan Readwin), an unabashed free spirit who literally cruises into the village on a skateboard. A real skateboard.

 

The children — particularly Ankush — are goggle-eyed.

 

Even Prerna is curious.

 

Jessica, sensing a means to curry favor, arranges for several cartons of skateboards and parts to be delivered to the village. Although the kids are overjoyed, their infatuation with this new sport becomes all-encompassing, to the detriment of everything else. This does not endear Jessica and Erick to the older villagers: particularly the local schoolmaster, whose classroom suddenly is mostly empty.

 

Some sort of (ahem) balance becomes necessary.

 

At the same time, Prerna’s growing interest worries and annoys her father, Ramkesh (Ambarish Saxena), who bitingly asks, “Why are you playing with things meant for boys?”

 

Makijany and co-scripter Vinati Makijany (her sister) deftly weave all manner of dualities — gender, class, relative wealth, East vs. West — into what follows. Their approach is nonjudgmental: Even Ramkesh’s behavior, as apparently cruel and stifling as it seems, actually is protective. In his mind, if Prerna injures herself while skateboarding, then nobody will want to marry her.

 

Although Jessica recognizes that this sport helps the local children break through longstanding social and class barriers, that’s perceived as an intrusion, even a threat. Undaunted, and determined to encourage and further empower these kids, she and Erick wonder if it might be possible to build a skatepark in the village.

 

This makes Prerna’s life even more difficult, because suddenly hope and opportunity have been dangled in front of her: Must she conform to society’s expectations, or could she really, possibly compete in the annual National Skateboarding Championship?

 

Gupta delivers a richly nuanced performance. Despite Ankush’s encouragement, Prerna initially regards a skateboard with suspicion: not so much out of fear for her safety, but — and this speaks to the delicacy of Gupta’s acting shops — because she worries that she’s not supposed to try. Then, as she becomes ever more enchanted by this activity, Prerna slowly blossoms, allowing herself all manner of elation.

 

Young Patel’s Ankush, in stark contrast, is ebullient and unrestrained from the moment we meet him: an utterly adorable little scamp.

 

Maghera deftly navigates Jessica’s carefully shaded personality. Although passionate about what’s right and fair, she’s smart enough — and sensitive enough — to recognize this is her opinion of “right and fair.” At no time does Maghera make her seem condescending or arrogant; we feel for the necessary delicacy of her interactions. No seasoned diplomat has faced a more difficult challenge.

 

Indeed, Magnera’s best moment comes when Jessica nervously — but resolutely — secures a meeting with the wealthy local matriarch (acclaimed Bollywood actress Waheeda Rehman), with the hope of securing land for a skatepark. At this point, yet another theme emerges: the ability of different generations of women, to relate to each other’s struggles.

 

Although present throughout the film, Swati Das doesn’t get much dialogue as Prerna’s mother, Shanti … because, for the most part, it isn’t her “place” to speak. But she radiates warmth and kindness, and we can tell that she’s on her daughter’s side.

 

Despite a busy career that stretches back almost two decades, Readwin doesn’t give much of a performance here; he seems to be playing himself. He is a longtime skateboarder, however, and that certainly shows.

 

International professional skateboarders Jacob Wiese, Leo Poulet, Darius C. Bharucha and Abhishek pop up briefly.

 

Manjari and Vinati were drawn to this project by the rising interest of skateboarding in India, which exploded exponentially after the country’s first skatepark, Sk8Goa, opened in 2003. The 14,500-square-foot Desert Dolphin Skatepark, which the production crew built for this film, was left as a gift for Khempur — where filming took place — and continues to empower that community.


A lovely gift, as is this film.

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