‘Second Chance’ review: Assured debut takes the time to sit with grief

Writer-director Subhadra Mahajan demonstrates remarkable confidence in her debut feature—a lyrical film that explores grief, loss and healing in the spiritual setting of a hill town, characterised by silence and stillness. Set in the Pir Panjal mountains of Himachal Pradesh during winter, the film follows 25-year-old Nia (Dheera Johnson), who takes refuge in her family's remote summer home after experiencing personal loss. This escape from family, city, and a painful reality offers Nia the opportunity to work through her turmoil and emerge from the darkness.

Rather than surrounding Nia with noise or heavy backstory, Mahajan distils the narrative down to essentials. Nia lives alone in the cosy house, blanketing herself from the cold and her own pain, until she begins to forge an unlikely bond with the caretaker Bhemi (Thakri Devi) and her playful grandson Sunny (Kanav Thakur). In spite of class differences, three generations coexist and build human connection through small chores, simple joys, and wordless understanding—spurred by rustic cricket games, local delicacies, and a cute kitten.

Shot in black-and-white by Swapnil Suhas Sonawane, whose lens captures both the starkness and softness of the Himalayan landscape. From vast vistas to weathered faces, the cinematography is a stunning companion to the film’s aesthetic. Natural sounds — wind, birdsong, running streams and Sunny’s playful chatter—provide the background score. In this hilly, sparse, quiet locale, Nia cannot escape the chatter in her mind. With poor cellular connectivity, she is compelled to accept the stillness.

Second Chance sits with grief rather than rushing to resolve it. Thematically, Mahajan handles the topic of abortion neither as an “issue” nor a moral dilemma, but simply as a fact of Nia’s life. She uses the motif of dance and rhythm to convey Nia’s emotions, psychological states, and eventual healing.

Language, too, is used sparingly and with precision. Characters move between Hindi, English, and Kullavi, grounding the story in cultural specificity. The casting of local non-actors lends the film an authenticity that never feels staged. Kanav Thakur is naturally childish and precocious as Sunny, the boy who idolises Superman and lovingly remembers his departed mother. If Thakur brings joy to the setting, Thakri Devi’s Bhemi embodies kindness and compassion. Through their realities, Mahajan subtly addresses climate change, patriarchy, and daily struggles. The scenes with an old shepherd (Ganga Ram) who flirts overtly with Bhemi are disarming in their simplicity and honesty.

Nia is a complex role for a newcomer, and though Johnson is occasionally out of her depth, Mahajan assuredly steers the narrative home. The 105-minute Second Chance asks for patience, as the director, cast, cinematographer, sound designer, production designer, music department, and editor all work toward a singular artistic vision—one that favours suggestion over statement. The film ends on a note of hope, as Nia gradually sheds the weight of grief, finds closure, and accepts that it might be possible to begin again.

Also read: The high-altitude Dharma highway: Buddhist tales from ancient Himalayan trails