The publicity buzz propping up Life Goes On rests on two factoids: One, that the film treats us to mummy-daughter together on screen, and two that the film is an adaptation of King Lear. I have seen the film and I can tell you two things: There was nothing spectacular about watching Sharmila Tagore and Soha Ali Khan in the same frames; and the alleged adaptation of Shakespeare’s King Lear is, well, alleged.

The similarity between King Lear and Life Goes On can be summed up in two lines: Once there was a man who was feted and fussed over. He had a large mansion and three daughters who gave him trouble.
But the “trouble” in LGO is not in the vein of the great tragedy, but more on the lines of the Book of Job.
Dr Sanjay Banerjee OBE (Girish Karnad), lives in a £5 million house with his wife Manju (Sharmila Tagore) in England. Sanjay is a successful and conscientious doctor, has three bright daughters and lots of goodwill in “the community”. Such a nice, comfortable man, God and director probably thought, must be tested. So, Sanjay arrives home after a hard day’s work to find his wife dead on the floor. He call his dear friend Alok (Om Puri), who informs his daughters.
Let’s pause here and consider Sanjay Banerjee. He is a man who endured in impressionable childhood the Partition of Bengal and lost his little sister, best friend and home to the madness. This man worked hard and became a respected doctor.
Sanjay is an old-fashioned man. The kind of husband who provides well, and the sort of father who leaves all the nurturing to wife and takes interest only in what the kids are studying and who they plan to marry. Oh, and he hates Muslims.
Back to the story. Friends and family start arriving.
Eldest daughter Lolita (Mukulika Banerjee) is married to John, a hardly-there-husband, and has an adorable daughter. There’s some vague talk of John’s extramarital affair.
Next to arrive is Dia (Soha Ali Khan). She is studying theatre and rehearsing to play Cordelia to King Lear. While father is mourning his wife and worrying about being all alone, Dia tells him, “Oh, Dad, I know you hate Muslims, but I love that junior doctor Imtiaz in your hospital and am going to marry him. And, congratulations, you are going to be dadaji soon”.
Daughter three, Tuli (Neerja Naik), a TV reporter, is the nicest looking of the three, arrives home in a rage, screams about never being informed of what’s going on and of being treated as paraya. She is trailed by her lesbian lover. Father is nice to both.
Sanjay has many acquaintances but only one friend — the supportive Alok. Alok too misses Manju — because she made delicious fish curry, planned nice picnics and pulled Alok out of depression after his wife left him. Alok and Sanjay often talk over drinks, and on one such occasion, while the funeral is being planned, Alok says, “Dost, don’t mind, but I slept with your wife and your eldest daughter is actually mine... Why? Because you were too busy being a good doctor and were never around to take Manju boudi to theatre. And you know how much Bengali women love theatre. So, there. I’m terribly sorry”.
While Sanjay is coping with one piece of bad news after another, and seeking refuge in memories of his lovely wife, the three sisters fight, bond, relive moments with their mother and listen to uncle Alok’s jokes.

Life Goes On begins as a lyrical story of a dysfunctional NRI family that was held together by one woman and how all must now redefine their relationships and go on living.
There are some warm moments — with Alok, Manju and the daughters. All the characters — especially Manju and Alok — get director Sangeeta Dutta’s sympathy, also nice songs, laughter and sunshine. But the director has no time for Sanjay. She remains focused on his bigotry, and her politically-correct stern stare on him stays till the end.
I wonder. Shouldn’t we all be grateful that Sanjay didn’t hang himself from the Tower Bridge after what was a rather depressing week by all accounts? Frowning director didn’t think so. She doesn’t even allow him a squeak after he learns of his cheating wife. Just one night on a bench in Hampstead Heath.
The director’s politics intervenes in the oddest, most jarring fashion — terror strikes, liberal and confused Muslims — and remains meaningless.
My problem number two with Dutta’s direction was her focus on Cordelia, Dia. Given what the story is, and that the other two sisters are neither mean nor conniving, and have problems of their own, her undue focus on Soha Ali Khan smacked of star-pandering. Soha is good, but the other two sisters had compelling issues of their own and were played by far more talented actresses. Yet, we hardly spend any alone time with them.
Dutta’s story-telling is often dull and lacks pace. The construct of several scenes is forced and most swing between banal and clichéd. Characters often talk to each other in an affected fashion and remain strangers. Pretentious would be a fair tag for this film.
Sharmila Tagore looks good, wears gorgeous saris, but is bhishon naeka. Girish Karnad is a mock Bengali, an unconvincing bigot, a sweet father and should treat us to some good theatre very soon. Om Puri’s character is nice but he plays Alok in a slothful way. I still liked him.
PS: What is it with Bengali directors and King Lear? If you figure, Tweet.