Gully Boy - a gritty underdog story told with remarkable sensitivity

Gully Boy - the title of Zoya Akhtar’s latest offering leaves no room for doubt about the world she seeks to capture in her 2: 30-hour long film, done with precision and sensitivity that is hard to come by. 

The film opens with three friends from the gullies of Dharavi walking down a relatively affluent locality of Mumbai and stealing a car and disappearing in thin air. With this scene, any doubt about Ranveer sticking out as the big star trying too hard to fit into this world is instantly put to rest. So convincing is his get-up, gait, and lingo, that he blends seamlessly into the world and the ethos he represents. Images of heaps of rubbles, largely exposed drains filled with discarded plastics, stray animals, claustrophobic spaces, drug peddlers, small allies with cramped homes is the Mumbai we expect to see in this film. But we never see the camera over-indulging for the sake of some gritty glamor. And on the other side of these slums lies the key to an inaccessible world which is the life every gully dweller is dreaming of. And the director captures this great chasm in the city of dreams through a very nuanced prism.

It is no news that the film is loosely based on the lives of India’s first street rap sensations Divine and Naezy. And the film is a beautiful homage to the real gully boys who had enough fire in their belly to realize their dreams. 

At the heart of Gully Boy is Murad, who is seen finding an escape in his poetry when his reality gets tough on him. He is a diligent, righteous, and ambitious young man who is hungry to change the course of his life. Safeena, played by Alia is Murad’s love interest. She is an aspiring surgeon, and much like Murad, follows her ambition with a steadfast determination. She is feisty, confident and madly in love with Murad. If Murad is the soul of this film, Safeena is its beating heart. 

They meet at bus stops, hold hands during their commutes, kiss inside empty trains, and talk to each other over the phone for hours. Like two ends to earphones, they are entwined to each other in their dreams. In a particularly tender moment, Safeena asks Murad to chase his dream for her Doctor’s degree will ensure a good life for them. Here we see roles getting reversed subtly without making a statement about it. Their hungry eyes and poignant pauses speak volumes about their big dreams even with the acute realization of their realities. Which Murad’s father warns him against time and again. ‘A driver’s son will become a driver’, is how Murad is shown his place on another occasion. The dialogues in the film elevate the screenplay as they strike the perfect balance of gully lingo and common man’s language to express the most poignant feelings. When Murad is hit by the realization of Safeena’s love slipping away he says, ‘without her, it would be like living a life without a childhood.’ And this film has quite a few of such glowing lines that make you pause and admire the written words. 

But where there is ambition and resolve, struggle and heartbreaks are inevitable. And Murad and Safeena’s story is no different. They too go through their share of emotional upheaval that is convincingly woven into the main thread of the narrative - which is Murad ’s arc of becoming the new big thing in the world of rap music. But not before he is pushed to his limits by his circumstances, which add fire to his words, and his angst finds a release through his songs. 

All the above might come off sounding nothing more than a typical underdog story.  But one has to watch this film for the subtle undercurrents, the simmering tensions, for the powerful silences, and marvel over the restraint and control displayed by its makers. For a film that celebrates a particular music genre, it is expected that it would offer some power packed tracks and this film does just that. All the eighteen tracks, glide over the other playing the perfect catalyst to the already simmering situations in the film. And it’s a real treat to watch an emotion getting translated into words, and growing into an echo, and then erupting into a philosophy. And all this go on, while the city of Mumbai moves in a harmonious montage where its inhabitants constantly step over the other side of the gap, while largely remaining conscious of it. 

But in the end, it is Murad raging through the powerful lyrics of his songs and trying to create a revolution, is what is going to be the enduring image of this film. Ranveer never misses a beat while switching in and out of the roles of a dutiful son and a passionate rapper, the righteous man, and the pragmatic gully boy that he is. Debutant Siddhant Chaturvedi comes across as a powerhouse of talent and competes with Ranveer’s infectious energy flawlessly. 

The casting in the film is near perfect, and each character is given enough screen presence to shine and carve a piece for themselves in the audience’s hearts. And when emotions run high, the screenplay cleverly injects humor to move on to the next emotion. 

However, the few times when the writing seemed slightly off was firstly when Sky, played by Kalki, goes out on her nightly escapades along with her friends. Her gestures, all captured in a brief segment,  seem like nothing more than a token commentary on rampant cutting down of trees, the great divide of rich and poor, and biases based on color. This sequence almost seemed like an afterthought and could have been easily done away with. And on another occasion, when the writers seem to choose convenience over realism- denying Sky and MC Sher ( Siddhant’s character) a slightly negative shade even when they were presented with the occasions. Which was largely done to take forward Murad’s story without complicating it further. 

But for a film that never misses a beat, keeps your eyes peeled at all times, and draws you into its world like you want to remain immersed in it, is a film that deserves all the good words. I wanted to return to the theater and watch not only scenes, but the entire film all over again, and I wonder how often can one say that for a film. 

Manto on Netflix

Nandita Das’s film, Manto, based on the life of famous Urdu writer, Saadat Hasan Manto, is an  impressive account of the maverick writer's short-lived, but eventful life. His controversial writing during the turbulent times of Independence, certainly deserved a cinematic adaptation, and this film successfully captures the essence of what Manto stood for both in his personal and professional life.

The film deftly captures the angst and beliefs of this fearless and unhinged writer, who didn’t mince  words while addressing the menaces of his society which often landed him in trouble, and court cases remained his lifelong companion. Hence, it is not surprising that even in his short-lived life (he died at the age of 42), he leaves behind a legacy of work so inspiring that, as students of literature when we read them, we all wanted to be Mantos. 

Toba Tek Singh, his short story that ridicules partition like no other, finds a special place towards the end of this film. While his long struggle with finding acceptance for his most notorious story, ‘Thanda Gosht’, as chilling as the title, is given just enough presence in the film to show the grit and determination with which he pursued his beliefs and stuck to his principles. This is also largely reflective of the times in which he was writing, where social issues were brushed aside to celebrate the newly found status of two independent nations of the sub-continent - India and Pakistan. And one cannot miss the irony of the battle against censorship on free speech and expression then, and the fact that, very little has changed even today. 

For a film that is based on the life of a courageous writer of possibly the most significant years of our country, it was essential that the dialogues were as hard hitting as the man in question. And the film delivers on that count too, staying away from any unnecessary gimmick, and striking the right balance of drama and content. 

For an artist as controversial as Manto, it is easy to pick any aspect of his life, either professional or personal, and create a feature film out of it. But this film picks just the right elements to highlight those areas that represent the fire-brand writer best. 

His forced move from Bombay to Lahore post partition had a huge impact on Manto and his writing. And the latter half of his professional and personal life was spent mourning over the loss of a city he was deeply in love with. And when he couldn’t find the Bombay of his love in Lahore, the disillusionment started to creep into his writing. And unfortunately, it took a toll on his personal life too. But with each new turn of events, he found new inspiration to write and create. 

This film not only brings alive Manto, the progressive thinker and writer, but the loving partner and father that he was to his family. There are many endearing scenes in the film that captivate his family life which reveal his gentler side, showing the sensitive human being that gets easily affected by an unjust society. He is particularly sensitive with issues relating to women, whether it is about the plight of women forced into prostitution, or his treatment of women as equals. In this regard, his contemporary and another controversial writer of those times, Ismat Chugtai, best known for her short story, Lihaaf, finds special screen presence in Manto’s life story. 

While on the one hand Manto is shown to hob-nob with the biggies of Bombay Talkies, on the other hand, he is shown to find creative inspiration  in places far removed from the bright lights of the  studio. This aspect of his life encapsulates what he truly represented as an artist. 

And at the end, it is the man who played Manto, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, about whom anything said would sound repetitive. Here he not only plays the titular role, but he becomes Manto. The fierceness in his dialogues, the sharp piercing grip of his eyes, and the fragility of his body, capture the very essence of who Manto might have been for as long as he lived. And I doubt there could be any better actor to take on this mammoth task and mouth those gritty dialogues with the same conviction. 

Some of the most engaging sequences in the film are heightened in effect by the melancholic music that runs in the background, handled with utmost care by none other than legendary tabla player, Zakir Hussain. And the film also boasts of dragging lyricist Javed Akhtar to mouth few dialogue in his chaste Urdu, besides getting some of the best talents of the industry to play relatively insignificant roles. 

I had watched Das’s directorial debut Firaaq few years back, and remember complaining about many things that didn’t quite sit well with me. But with Manto, she hits many right notes. The film's relevance in the current political climate of our country is an unfortunate reality we are living with. In that sense, Manto lives on amongst us, as an inspiration for generations to come. And hence, this film, I feel was long overdue. Glad it came at the right time, and from the right people. 

Ribbon - Good weekend watch

(2017)

Director: Rakhee Sandilya

Screenplay: Manjiri Pupala, Rakhee Sandilya, Rajeev Upadhyay, Raghav Dutt

You realize a film has done something for you - touched a chord, moved a piece of your heart - when it makes writing about it lot more difficult than how you had imagined it in your head. Ribbon, the film, starring Kalki Koechlin and Sumeet Vyas, did that for me today. Ever since I wrapped it up, I couldn’t  take my mind off it entirely. It wasn’t a great thing that I had to hold my thoughts before I could pour them out here. Instead what awaited was a pile of dishes looking at me challengingly, and a brain that refused to work as I stood infront of the fridge and contemplated dinner. And it was Kalki’s disarmingly realistic portrayal of a young urban woman that was reeling in my head. Too bad I had already decided a crappy dinner over palatable. And wanted to devote all my time thinking about the movie, engaging in thoughts of what to highlight and what to not reveal. As I know how painful spoilers can feel! ( that even rhymed!)

Hence without completely ruining the film for you, I would give you a little sneak peek into the lives of this urban middle class family that is relatable on so many accounts. The daily commute to work, the EMIs, the family responsibilities, professional aspirations, and just generally, the dream of climbing up the ladder. Sounds all too familiar? But what probably sets this film apart is the care and sensitivity with which the writers and the director have presented some of the most mundane matters of life that sets the tone for the film. Whether it is the choice of  showing who makes the morning tea, or who is the peacemaker, or the people that we depend on to carry on with our lives - each of these aspects bring a straw to build the nest, and in this case, the story. 

The film deftly highlights some of the gross biases that are often meted out toward women at work places. And instead of serving as a mere comment, it delves deep into what such behavior can do to her on a mental and emotional level. And the many ways in which she comes out victorious, till society throws another ball at her. 

The story beautifully captures the essence of what it is like to be a woman who is always under scrutiny, whether it to prove her worth professionally, or as a working parent. But this film is a departure from the usual stance that a story like this is expected to take. And effectively complicates the narrative to emphasize the issue. 

It is particularly careful in the way it deals with the issue with children in this day and age where threats lurk in every corner. And treats the emotional struggle of a couple to deal with such a situation with great sensitivity. 

The tone of the film sets a sense of foreboding running through it at all times. When everything seems to be going right you are crippled by thoughts of a bad news that lurks in the next turn. And the writers don’t disappoint. With each new turn we are presented with newer and greater challenges. 

The film is also a scathing remark on the institutions motivated by their self-serving agendas that often fail to protect our children. And how, probably, as a society, we lack the efficiency to deal with problems such as this family faces.

Besides great direction, the film is memorable for the little moments it creates that cleverly reveal something about its characters and their state-of-mind. Its dialogues keep it breezy and believable, the arguments ( bound to be many, they are married remember?) come off sounding like they are being mouthed  by the couple living next door. 

The cast of the film is spot on. Both the actors in lead roles have done a remarkably good job. Kalki is top notch in painting the arc of a woman from her younger professional days to the role of a working mother. Sumeet Vyas too is bound to win hearts as an affectionate and responsible husband. 

Ribbon is an essential film that mirrors our society with great honesty and asks some relevant and important questions. Now why the title Ribbon you ask? I am sure we will all interpret it differently. To me, it is ‘what ties us together’ - whether it is a family as a unit, or a society. Now if I really had to pick on something about the film it would probably be the couple of times when its pace drops. But that is a minor quibble in the larger picture of a tale told exceedingly well. 

Go watch Ribbon, it’s worth your time. 

The post that happens after every vanishing act. Yah, that one.

Those of you for whom nightly retreats mean rummaging through  Netflix ( and the likes...) for few moments of escape, and shutting the world behind you for few precious hours (if you are lucky), you have arrived at the right place. As much I hate the fact that my before-sleep hours are trapped in this unending loop of online movie prowls, another part, the one that gets satiated by the good watches, cannot thank this luxury enough. I call it a luxury, because I am not bound by the rhythms of life that an average mortal is obliged to fall into. With nowhere to head first thing in the morning, or no particular rush to pack a sleepy kid to a real school( just yet), my mornings follow a rhythm of its own. And the late the nights, the longer the morning sleep. 

Sadly enough, falling into this routine has me let go off my late night readings. I see my last purchase, Cynthia’s good looking, and exciting ( from what I recollect from where I left) book, ‘The Nest’, lying unattended on my bedside table, and my heart aches every single time my eyes are drawn to its beautiful egg shell blue cover. Because coax and coax I may, but I cannot even come close to lifting the book, forget reading few lines from it. Let’s just say, I need some time off from everything, some recovery time, from the onslaught of taking off to places. Packing bags, waiting in security queues, marinating my back on car seats, doing the touristy things, eating out, and wiping arse of tiny human in car seats too, if you please. Did that for a month. Non-stop. I want to say I am done, so I can get back to my normal life. Discipline myself to finish the half-done, half-baked drafts, one at a time. That demands time, and focus. But I am afraid, that would have to wait its turn. Because another bout  of Marry-go-round is lurking  round the corner. I am hardly complaining though. I mean who wouldn't like  to be whisked away to exciting places every second or third month? But there is this searing feeling of guilt and worry that’s growing within me - a part that seems to be dissing the 'plan.'  With an increasing fear of losing sight of my goal, I am flirting  with the idea of a writing retreat, from where I can operate as I wish - watch life in  technicolors, dream, create, and dream some more, while remaining invisible to the world - a 'hideout.' Although right at this moment,  my girl’s red and white stripped tent filled with odds and ends, seems like my best bet. Then sometimes, I dream of teleporting to some faraway land, cancelling the noise with ear phones plugged deep into my eardrums, and not caring about thoughts that keep colliding with each other in my mind. But then again, I am a homebody. These four walls that surround me, make me, me! This is who I am. I love this space. I love the snug welcome it treats me with every time I am back from somewhere. 

You wouldn’t believe, but this is what I had set out to do here. To talk about homes, decor, movies, things I have been treating myself to, things that transport me to a world of dreams. Netflix - the friend and the foe. I hadn’t thought of this as the title, but I was headed on that direction I must admit. So, Netflix, Lust Stories, Home decor shows. There. I listed them. This way I will remain more focused. I think. 

What I had set out to say earlier (just before the digression) was that, I am again in that phase, that huge part of me that is a home decor enthusiast. Lately, with all of my writing plans thrown out of the window, I have been binging on one show on home decor after the other and like always, my head is amassed with my own decor plans for my rooms. TLC is what I have been hearing a lot lately, and DIY is music to my ear. It is almost a cuss word in my household though, with a husband who is severely allergic to anything DIY. I however, am all for throwing in your own creativity wherever I see a possibility. So there, next thing you know is, I have ordered a bunch of wall decals for a particular sore wall in my girl’s room that badly needed some...another favorite word...'treatment.’ ‘Home Doctor’ should thank me for coming up with all the right words in this post. Alright alright I won’t push it. Okay just one more, ‘I am feeling ‘emulsional’ right now!!’ Heck! 

Then comes Lust Stories - four short films by four leading directors of Bollywood under one banner made for Netflix.  Fortunately, I grabbed it on the very day it was released. God knows how much I hate to wake up late to anything film-related! Particularly when it becomes the talk of the town and I am yet to find out about it. This timely consumption however got me sitting on top of it. Being the selfless person that I am, I instantly spread the word around over WhatsApp groups, barring the family and 'family-like' ones for obvious reasons. These films wiped off most of my frustrations with never finding the right movie to watch over Netflix! Sounds like a familiar scenario? Well, now you know what to watch. Impressed with the great execution of the films, I took to Twitter, well, almost took to Twitter. But turned out, I was probably the last one amongst the early birds. Twitter was already rioting with ‘hashtag lust story’ so bad that after a while my mind got attuned to seeing the two words strung tightly together at all times. ‘Luststories’ is what remained of it. But the good news is, either way, these films will entertain you, engage you, tickle you, embarrass you, try you. But one thing they will never do is - waste your time. 

Interestingly, the stories  have incited curiosity even within the movie-novice circles ( Dear God, how do they live!). They seem to be asking funny, but relevant questions, and so am I. I read a quote by writer Arundhati Roy today in the passing that says, ‘The point of a writer is to be unpopular,’ and I didn’t have to look too far to realize what she meant. Do treat yourself with Lust Stories. They are the forerunners in the unpopular category because they ask the difficult  questions. They throw flood light in places we conveniently choose to overlook. They are worth it because they urge you to think and arrive at your own conclusions. 

'The Gift' -Netflix watch - why I want to talk about it

I watched a movie called ‘The Gift’ yesterday. And ever since I have been itching to talk about it. Without going into the details about who plays what and how, and all the things that seem less important to me right now, I would dive straight into the heart of the story. Here is how the film begins. And excuse me if my biases show a little, since the sight of a beautiful property on screen (and otherwise too), makes me go slightly weak on my knees. So needless to say, the film got me hooked from the very first scene.

A married couple, I would assume, in their mid-thirties, is being shown an impressive property in the suburbs of California by a seasoned broker. The little information she throws here and there about the house, the polite conversation she makes while walking them through the rooms, how she points out the important features of the house, is revealing of the director’s attention to detail which is evident throughout the film.

Robyn and Simon, the couple, move base to California from Chicago to start over a new life. We are not told the why of it yet. Simon tells the broker he found a job in this new city and that he is excited about it. And, that, he had lived in these parts of the country before. While we are told Robyn’s roots are in Chicago, her credentials are revealed only when she is introduced to Simon’s colleagues over an office party. And Simon’s over-the-top validation of Robyn’s freelance home design projects come off sounding more like a pep talk, which leaves Robyn mostly embarrassed. The hours when Simon is in office, Robyn jogs, plays with her dog, and cooks dinner, and on few occasions, visits her friendly neighbor. In one of her solitary moments at home, she fishes out a crib mobile from one of the unpacked cartons lying around the house. About which we get to learn more when she tells her neighbor that, she was pregnant a year back, but that ‘did not have a happy ending.’ And leaves it at that, saying, ‘will bore you with the details some other time.’

While out shopping, an old friend of Simon, Gordo, walks up to them, and introduces himself, and Simon, after straining his mind for a clue, recognizes him as his old buddy from school. They exchange numbers and promise to catch up. The next thing the couple knows is, Gordo has sent them a card and Champaign as a welcome gesture, and quite unexpectedly, one afternoon, he shows up himself at their doorsteps. Out of courtesy, and probably for company, Robyn invites him and asks him to stay over for dinner, while they wait for Simon to get back from work. At dinner table, Gordo gets carried away in his slightly drunken stupor, and blabbers a great deal about Simon’s reputation of being some sort of a hero back in school. ‘Because Simon says so’, is his chosen phrase to prove him point. And the animated conversation remains mostly one sided, with Robyn, who seems to be the only other person enjoying it. While it leaves Simon awkward, and slightly irked, which he expresses by indicating Robyn to stop filling Gordo’s glass with more wine. Once Gordo leaves, Simon shares that the dinner had been a very ‘awkward’ one for him. And that, Gordo used to be known for being odd, and was often referred to as a ‘weirdo.’ And Robyn, counters him by saying she can be like that sometimes socially, and suggests that this was a one off and that, they don’t have to do it again.

Simon’s confidence at work and how he scales great heights in his new job suggest how successful he is at whatever he does, if their house in a posh neighborhood doesn’t speak of it already. Robyn, on the other hand, seems to be struggling with something. An irrevocable past that took her child from her, a low self-esteem, despite her elegant physical attributes and an above average IQ. A loving husband, but a busy one. These could very well be the reasons why she finds it easy to empathize with Gordo, who, as it turns out, did not make a great life for himself. And the film cleverly plays with Robyn’s arc, by making her somewhat melancholic and having a propensity for the odd and the neglected. And on one instance, when she sneaks out pills from her neighbor’s restroom, we are introduced to another aspect of her past she is trying to get rid of.

As Gordo’s visits, cards, and gifts start to pick up, and he starts making himself useful around the house in Simon’s absence, Robyn seems to be surprised at his generosity, but doesn’t doubt his intentions for once. While Simon is steadfast in his belief that they should be concerned about Gordo walking into their property whenever he fancies. In a particularly odd but funny setting, Simon suggests that Gordo has his eyes set on Robyn, and that he has enough reasons to believe he is completely smitten by her and wants to take Simon’s place.  And Robyn laughs it off hard enough to indicate the absurdity of his accusations and his hilarious impersonation of Gordo. 

So far, through various events and situations, the film gives its viewers enough fodder to arrive at some conclusions of their own. But still manages to leave things beautifully sketchy and the secrets are safely intact. As the mystery of Gordo’s intentions, Simon’s concerns, and Robyn’s position are revealed, we are in for some unexpected turns in the story, which mostly leave us at the edge of our seats. Calling it a revenge drama will be over-simplifying the film. Because at its core, the film asks some pertinent questions. Questions such as - how much of what the eyes meet is true, or, what might appear ‘normal’ can be unusual. And what is often termed as ‘mad’, can be sane. In that sense, the film lends a voice to those people who stand on the periphery and are often silenced. And most importantly, ‘how an idea can hold ground’, if it is powerful enough, and can make or ruin people’s lives. It can also be a commentary on how an irresponsible act done in the past, can have disastrous consequences. And what happens when a bad attitude, if not curbed at the right time, can become detrimental to oneself and to others. And that, how a heartfelt plea for forgiveness could sometimes be one’s last shot at setting everything right.

‘The Gift’ was a riveting watch not just for the important messages it sends out, but for the impressive way in which that is achieved. The director doesn’t lose sight of his goal at any point, yet never hurries us though any of the scenes. Whether the eeriness created though the rustle of keys, dead fish in the artificial pond, or the couple’s pet dog going missing, the film excels in keeping a sense of foreboding running till the end. The end was particularly appealing to me. By denying a closure to its characters, the film achieves the poetic justice anticipated in a story like this one. The end left me feeling oddly satisfied.