Chances are, if you’ve watched the promos for Secret Superstar—written and directed by newcomer Advait Chandan—you’ll already have figured out the story’s broad strokes. Because we’ve seen and heard variations on the whole underdog-with-a-dream-rising-from-obscurity-and-making-it-big premise many, many times before, and Chandan hasn’t really made much of an effort to shake things up. But despite the predictable, familiar beats, and some fairly unrealistic detailing in plot and character, Secret Superstar manages to engage and even enthrall at times—all thanks to terrific performances by the cast, particularly one Ms Zaira Wasim, who is the beating heart of the film.

Wasim plays the 15-year-old Insiya Malik, a schoolgirl from a small town in Gujarat. Insiya might not be the best of students or have the most friends, and she’d probably be hard to pick out in a crowd—but give the girl a guitar and lend her your ears, and she transforms. You see, Insiya has long nursed aspirations of putting her songs and her voice out in the world, a dream that her mother Najma (Meher Vij) has tried to nurture to every extent possible within her own limited means. But her talent—and she’s certainly talented—is also something the two have had to work to conceal from Insiya’s abba, Farookh (Raj Arjun), a harsh, conservative man who believes a woman has no place but in the home, in the service of her family. 

And god knows his disapproval comes at a heavy cost: Farookh is in the habit of lashing out both verbally and physically at the smallest of provocations—very often in the absence of one, too—particularly towards Najma. Little surprise then that the rest of the family, which includes Insiya’s younger brother (Kabir Sajid Shaikh) and grandmother (Farrukh Jaffer), scarcely dare to breathe when Farookh is around, and it’s only when he goes on long work trips that life returns to normal in the Malik household. It’s during one of these respites that Insiya decides it’s time to take her destiny in her own hands and Do Something. So, with Najma’s help, she records a video of herself singing—garbed in a burqa for anonymity, as a concession to her mother—and posts it on YouTube. And the consequences of that one bold move make up the remainder of the film.

Wasim is what makes Secret Superstar tick. The actress—who made her debut as one of the young wrestling prodigies in Dangal last year and isn’t all that older in real life than the character she plays in this project—is perfectly cast, investing Insiya with such an authentic, layered combination of angst and desperation and naivete and sheer determination that her character comes off feeling like a real, human, flesh-and-blood teenager. And good thing too, considering she is in practically every frame here. Also effective is how well the film portrays the bond between Insiya and Najma, much of which is owed to a nuanced turn by the wonderful Vij, whom we really should be seei ng a lot more of. Arjun, as the volatile Farookh, makes for another honorable mention—suitably contemptible—as does the dimpled young Tirth Sharma, who plays Insiya’s not-so-secret admirer and eventual co-conspirator.  

At the other end of the spectrum, unfortunately, is an extended cameo by Aamir Khan as a once top-rated, egotistic music director who is now struggling to stay relevant. The actor—who is also among the film’s producers and gives the project its dose of big-star traction—puts up such an over-the-top, hammy performance here that it’s actually hard to watch. While one can appreciate Khan’s willingness to make a fool of himself with a role like this, and he certainly seems to be having fun, the whole stint is just too cartoonish to convince and ends up detracting from Secret Superstar’s overall impact. 

In fact, it’s not just the actor’s portrayal, but the entire track involving him and the music industry that stretches the film’s credibility a touch too far. In attempting to capture something of the present-day, social media-saturated era, for instance, Chandan appears to underestimate the ease with which an artist, or really any professional, can rise to fame—apparently, it’s just a matter of having an Internet connection. While there are many, many examples of online breakout stars, you still cannot take for granted that uploading one video to YouTube will instantly turn one into a viral sensation, garnering millions of views and kind, appreciative comments (apparently trolls do not exist in Secret Superstar’s alternate universe) from people, and constant fawning from the media. Add to this how quickly Insiya is able to get in touch with Shakti Kumarr, the big shot played by Khan, and you’re dealing with oversimplification beyond the realm of believable logic. 

Where the film does shine is in the depiction of Insiya’s complicated home life. Chandan and his actors manage to whip up such a palpable sense of dread and terror within the walls of these few rooms, specifically linked to Farookh, that you can feel the tightness in the air, even a touch of suffocation, as you watch these scenes with him unfold. The minute he walks out the door of the apartment, there’s a sudden change of atmosphere, a lightening of mood, that renders the oppressiveness of his presence even more stark. And Wasim communicates to tragic, moving effect the hurt and helplessness of a child stuck in such awful circumstances. 

Had Secret Superstar been happy to maintain this sort of narrowed focus, and further explore and elaborate on the experience and psychological ramifications of growing up in an abusive household, one can be certain it would’ve made for a better film. But it gets far too ambitious in the second half, packed with large-scale contrivances and theatrics—not to mention, a right dollop of that saviour complex Khan has been indulging with increasing immodesty over this last decade or so—resulting in overlong, uninspired storytelling on the whole. Still, Secret Superstar is worth a watch if only for Wasim and her co-stars, who soften the film’s rough edges and make it much more palatable.