Aishwarya Rai is carrying quite a lot of weight on her shoulders these days: She’s been hounded in the press these past few months since becoming engaged to and then marrying her fellow Bollywood sensation, Abhishek Bachchan. She has been acting in a steady clip of new films, including Doug Lefler’s forthcoming “The Last Legion,” featuring Colin Firth and Ben Kingsley, and the Bollywood film “Guru,” which was released earlier this year.

Ms. Rai also works under the pressure of being the “most beautiful woman in the world,” according to Julia Roberts and the international press, acting as a spokesperson for cosmetic companies, and being the face of Bollywood. In essence she’s a true celebrity, but not on our shores — especially for those moviegoers who aren’t familiar with her Bollywood work.

What she may not be, depending on whom you ask, is an especially good actress. But Jag Mundhra’s “Provoked,” released last year in Britain and opening in New York today, answers that question assuredly — Ms. Rai is an excellent actress, and in this film she proves she can take on dramatic roles in English with ease.

Ms. Rai’s first major appearance in American cinemas came in 2004’s “Bride and Prejudice,” directed by Gurinder Chadha (of “Bend It Like Beckham” fame). Similar in theme to such recent films as “Drumline” and “Pride,” which told sentimental stories about minorities succeeding in a unfamiliar environments, “Bride and Prejudice” teemed with flowing red wedding dresses, dancing, and lots of cute winks and glances indicating that a couple was in love. It was the kind of typical “exotic” tripe that is sometimes passed off in the American public eye as a true South Asian experience.

“Provoked,” the true story of a battered Punjabi woman who is jailed in England for murdering her abusive husband (Naveen Andrews of “Lost” fame), is hopefully not considered to be a true South Asian experience (although keeping domestic abuse a secret is much more common on the subcontinent). Ms. Rai’s character, Kiranjit Ahluwalia, is depicted as being quite the opposite of any stereotypical perception that Americans might have about a loving, devoted Indian wife. Kiranjit is shown being beaten, raped, and thrown by her husband. In the beginning of the film, she sits outside her family’s home after burning her husband, who dies from the injuries a few days later. Her round, glowing, glamorous visage is reduced to gauntness, tear- and dirt-streaked and covered in trembling fear. Ms. Rai’s whispering, tinny voice barely rises above a whisper until a half-hour into the movie.

It works, and she works: Ms. Rai’s quietude during the first half of the film, during which her character is convicted of murder and jailed for life, belies the simple power of her acting throughout the rest of the film. Kiranjit decides to work with the Southall Black Sisters, a social organization devoted to helping battered women, to appeal her case. Mr. Mundhra doesn’t lavish any unnecessary spotlights on Ms. Rai. He keeps her dressed plainly in prison-issue clothes or in conservative Indian clothing for most of the film, and her plainspoken dialogue with her lawyers (including Robbie Coltrane) and her cell mates is truly what enlightens the character, especially at the end, when the British courts hand down their decision.

Fans of cheese-filled Bollywood films may find it striking to hear traditional Indian music played against scenes of such violent abuse. Mr. Andrews’s smarmy, simpering acting style cuts deep into his character’s bouts of insanity as he beats and rapes his wife. Mr. Mundhra uses these kinds of moviemaking juxtapositions to his benefit, separating “Provoked” from other, more orthodox and formulaic films in which South Asians are paraded in swaths of color and song. Best of all, Ms. Rai shines through with her understated dialogue and inherent strength as a woman who eventually triumphs over the darkest personal tragedy.