Tighi Review: A moving portrait of mothers, daughters and truths

A moving Marathi family drama, Tighi explores the fragile bond between a mother and her two estranged daughters. Anchored by strong performances, the film blends tenderness, conflict and resilience.

We all have sung  “Aai sarakhe daivat saarya jagatavar nahi” or “Tu kitni achchhi hai, tu kitni bholi hai. Pyaari pyaari hai o maa aa aa o maa”. But she’s the one you end up fighting with the most. As the only daughter, I relate hard to this; there’s no one else I can be absolutely horrid with one second and demand hugs from in the next. She’s the one person you can be completely yourself with and command love from, freely, without guilt or shame. Tighi captures that messy, loving reality. This Marathi movie first created buzz at the 24th Pune International Film Festival (PIFF) this year. The summary says that it’s a tender, heart-warming story of two estranged sisters brought together when their mother falls ill. 

But it’s so much more than that and how!

As I sat in the theatre, on International Women’s Day, surrounded by women of all ages and groups, including my own mother, watching this film felt like a shared experience. In a span of two hours, this movie not just reminded me that mothers are humans, flawed and all. But when the time comes, she is willing to become a fierce protector. 

Hemalata Ranade, who is fighting terminal illness for years, is not racing to the end of her life. That’s when her eldest daughter, Swati, shows up after three years of silence and distance. This irks the younger one, Sarika, who has spent all this time being their mother’s primary caregiver. While Hemalata’s pain might seem obvious, there’s a lot hidden behind last wishes and proclamations. 

Swati is not just juggling financial debts and the burden of making it all work with her husband, Malhar, but is also facing something a woman should never have to go through. Sarika is stuck between the past, present and future, feeling lost between her dreams and aspirations and her duty. Swati’s insistence on the reality she thinks unfolded at her wedding and her mother’s adamant denial had left them with nothing left to say for three years. Now that Swati has come back home to Pune from Mumbai, the tension between these three is reaching its peak.What follows is a tale that seems predictable but is anything but. 

What quietly elevates the film is how grounded everything feels. The house in Pune, the everyday movement of people in and out, the way the characters dress, speak and carry themselves, nothing feels artificially cinematic. It all resembles life as it is lived. This authenticity allows the audience to slip into the story almost effortlessly, making the emotional moments hit harder because they feel recognisable rather than manufactured.

What also stands out is the film’s focus on resilience. Hemalata is not just a mother battling illness; she is a woman who has raised two daughters on her own and continues to expect them to live life with the same quiet strength she did. Her insistence that they face life with a straight spine, ‘no matter what comes their way’, becomes the emotional backbone of the narrative.

Watching Bharati Achrekar kill it on screen after years was a treat for the sore mind. Though the Hindi audience has been enjoying her work in Wagle Ki Duniya – Nayi Peedhi Naye Kissey, Marathi Cinema has been craving more of her splendid performances. Practical, honest, smart and somewhat kiddish, her portrayal of Hemalata Ranade, the matriarch of the family, was on point. Neha Pendseand Sonalee Kulkarni, together, created an equation that could only mean that they were, in fact, sisters in some life. The catfights, the pendulum of emotions, the undying support and the mud slinging that only siblings can execute. While Kulkarni has been delivering solid acts pretty consistently, Pendse has stepped out of her TV series May I Come In Madam? and come into the limelight of cinema.

Sarika is written with an interesting duality - she appears detached and guarded on the surface but there is a deep well of affection and vulnerability underneath. Without relying on elaborate make-up or dramatic embellishments, Kulkarni brings a refreshing naturalness to the character, letting the emotions emerge in subtle moments rather than loud declarations. Pushkaraj Chirputkar’sMalharwas true to the character, evoking both anger and sympathy for him. Jaimini Pathak was convincing enough for me to look him up during the interval and curse under my breath. It was pleasing to watch Nipun Dharmadhikari play the only sane character, Gandharvawith utmost ease. 

Also Read: Jab Khuli Kitaab review: A warm, wobbly film that laughs at life’s cruel jokes!

There are also a few supporting performances that add texture to the story. Sanjay Moneand Suvrat Joshi, though appearing briefly, bring depth to their roles and manage to convey a great deal even in limited screen time. Sometimes it’s the silences and unspoken reactions that linger longer than dialogue.

What stood out for me were the laughs, tears and claps. Prajakt Deshmukh’s dialogues flowed flawlessly. Having recently watched his Marathi play, Karunashtake, and heard all about Sangeet Devbhabali, this was no surprise. Nikhil Mahajan, who has worked on Pune-52and Beetal, keeps the screenplay tight and engaging. Jeejivisha Kale’s direction is distinguished. No frame goes to waste, everything is deliberate, moves the plot forward or deeply establishes the scene.

The technical team deserves a mention too. Milind Jog’s cinematography captures the subdued, almost monsoon-like atmosphere of the film beautifully, allowing the mood to seep into the narrative without overwhelming it. Adwait Nemlekar’s music complements this tone well, particularly in the song “Haas Jarashi”, written by Jitendra Joshi and rendered soulfully by Sonu Nigam. It’s not a loud musical moment but rather a gentle emotional pause that reflects the delicate bond between the three women.

In many ways, Tighi is less about plot twists and more about emotional discovery. It observes the fragile, complicated and deeply loving relationship between a mother and her daughters with sincerity. By the time the story reaches its final turn, the film has quietly built a space where the audience is not just watching these women but feeling alongside them.

In this day and age, when audiences have grown used to trigger warnings that allow them to brace themselves for what is coming, one particular moment made me anxious for a brief second. Even though it was handled with tenderness and a sense of justice, the jolt of that plot twist brings everything to a sudden standstill.

In my opinion, the crucial scene that lays it all out might have benefitted from arriving a little later, with a slower emotional build-up. Perhaps it would not have landed with the same blood-curdling impact, which was likely the intention behind the treatment of the sequence, but it might have offered a gentler cushion for viewers who could find the subject triggering. That said, what follows does manage to ease the discomfort and emotional repugnance that the moment initially evokes. 

In the end, Tighi reminds us that even the most difficult truths can lead to understanding and that the bond between a mother and her daughters has the strength to endure far more than what we might expect.