Release
date:
|
April 6, 2018
|
Director:
|
Abhinay Deo
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Irrfan, Kirti
Kulhari, Arunoday Singh, Divya Dutta, Anuja Sathe, Pradhuman
Singh Mall, Omi Vaidya, Gajraj Rao, Neelima Azeem, Urmila Matondkar
Hindi
|
The seven-year itch is a tricky
thing. Legend has it that it spurs seemingly regular folk on to highly
irregular behaviour even when they are in happy relationships. Imagine then the
fate of unhappy couples.
Dev Kaushal (Irrfan) and his
pretty young wife Reena (Kirti Kulhari) are stuck in a loveless marriage and
have found completely contrasting ways to scratch that itch. His moments of
respite come when he masturbates in the office toilet, and when he peeps into
his bedroom from a hole in the kitchen wall to gaze at the sleeping Reena.
During one of those peering sessions he learns that she too has been seeking
relief from him – in the arms of a man she had once wanted to marry.
The trailer has already told us
that Dev blackmails the boyfriend, a beefy fellow called Ranjit Arora (Arunoday
Singh). The reason: Ranjit is married, and financially dependent on his
powerful father-in-law who keeps a tight hold on the purse strings and his damaad’s testicles.
As in director Abhinay Deo’s 2011
venture, the irresistibly maniacal Delhi Belly, here too one misdeed leads to another then another and another until
everyone involved gets caught up in a vortex of deception and trickery.
Delhi Belly was a
novelty on the Bollywoodscape for various reasons but primarily its chosen
genre – black comedy – and its openness about sex and other bodily functions. Blackmail is not as thoroughly alien
territory, perhaps because much water and experimentation have passed under the
bridge in the seven years since Delhi Belly was released, but this film too is quite unusual for Bollywood.
(Spoiler
alert for the ultra-picky reader) Blackmail
is cleverly and self-deprecatingly misleading in its early moments. When Dev
imagines multiple scenarios each time his head threatens to explode with suppressed
anger, the repetition of the device is designed to lull viewers into assuming
predictability on the part of the storyteller. Just as you think you have got
Deo all figured out though … boom! … he stands the ploy on its head when you
are least expecting it. (Spoiler alert
ends)
That flip is Blackmail’s big turning point, the moment that urges viewers not to
overestimate their own intelligence or underestimate the filmmaker. Surrender
is the most sensible option left, and doing so yields considerable dividends.
The hero of Blackmail is not your regular bad guy. The worst thing Dev does
before he resorts to blackmail is to steal photos of colleagues’ wives so he
can pleasure himself while gazing at them. The believable casualness with which
he and others in the film turn to crime is perhaps a commentary on the hidden
villain in each of us, lying in wait below the surface, anxious for an excuse
to tear through our skin.
(Possible
spoiler in this paragraph) Blackmail’s characters are not repulsive, nor
do they actively invite pity, but you sense the ennui in fleeting words and
actions. Ranjit’s wife, played by Divya Dutta, addresses him as “Tommy”. When
he protests, she asks if he would prefer “kutta”. Ranjit wonders how Dev looks, and Reena
replies, “like a husband.” You can almost hear the yawn in those three words. (Spoiler alert ends)
Parveez Shaikh’s screenplay is
careful not to mock the lead characters although their exploits are
deliberately exaggerated and caricaturish. The ridiculous rigmarole in which
they ultimately lose themselves does not match the zip and zing of Delhi Belly, but is nevertheless mad and
brisk enough to be exciting in large parts.
Without any overt intellectual
intent, Blackmail also holds up a
mirror to what unfolds when we allow life to happen to us instead of grabbing
the steering wheel with both hands.
The film dips intermittently
though. Among its weakest patches is the superficiality in the characterisation
of Reena in comparison with the others, and the ordinariness of the writing of
two cameos – if Ranjit’s mother-in-law had not been played by Neelima Azeem and
if Urmila Matondkar was not featured in
Bewafa beauty, there might have been no expectations from either.
Not that Bewafa beauty is an absolute write off – it is, in fact, fairly
danceable and hummable – but you do not resurrect the Rangeela girl on the big screen after so many years for a song that
is anything short of electrifying in its music and choreography. Worse, the
number is abruptly dumped into the narrative.
The scenes at Dev’s office are
tepid, owing largely to the unfunnyness of the boss’ obsession with toilet
paper that is clearly meant to tickle us.
The film is also strangely
indifferent to its setting. Blackmail is
located in a city in Maharashtra, but offers none of the detailing and cultural
specificities that made Delhi Belly
such a delight.
Irrfan seems to be enjoying
himself here playing a husband and corporate slave who lacks the energy to lift
himself out of his boredom. He falters in a scene in which he confides in his
friend Anand (Pradhuman Singh Mall), although the motivation for that decision
is in itself so unconvincing that Shaikh should be faulted just as well here.
Besides, Dev is the only one in
the story prone to underplaying his emotions, yet with barely discernable
touches, the actor conveys the hope with which he had entered into the
relationship with Reena and the lethargy that frittered everything away.
Kirti Kulhari is handicapped by
limited writing, but still embodies a certain vulnerability through her
performance, making Reena a person who is hard to hate despite the affair.
(Aside: considering his unconventional career path, it is disappointing to see
Irrfan too choosing to star with women who are, on an average, 20 years his
junior.)
Arunoday Singh as Ranjit and
Divya Dutta as his drunken spouse get the benefit of more over-the-top and
meaty roles – both immerse themselves in the action to amusing effect. Jay
Oza’s wicked camerawork in their joint scenes and the lens’ menacing gaze at
them in a scenario played out in a toilet make those passages particularly
memorable.
The standout performance of the
lot though comes from Anuja Sathe playing Dev’s co-worker who metamorphoses
into an aggressive monster. Sathe is a firecracker who owns her every moment on
screen, even managing to overshadow a veteran like Irrfan in their scenes
together.
Despite its imperfections, what
sustains Blackmail is its irreverence
towards the issue of marital infidelity. In an earlier era, such a theme is
likely to have been explored only in a grave, weepie feature.
You know times have changed when
an adulterous wife is no longer seen as either an off-mainstream focus area or
the target of compulsory, lengthy sermonising if she is featured in mainstream
cinema. You know times have changed when a male star of Irrfan’s stature
merrily plays a chap whose daily routine includes jerking off at the workplace.
You know times have not changed
enough when the
non-judgemental tone of the film suddenly, without a perceivable progression
leading up to that point, turns selectively judgemental towards the woman and
sympathetic towards the man with Amitabh Bhattacharya’s lyrics of Bewafa beauty. Sample this: Kul mila ke saiyyanji ke / Achchhe sanskaar
thhe / Sajaniya ke lakshan lekin / Thhode tadipaar thhe... (Very roughly:
He was, by and large, a nice guy with the right values / she was the sort to go
astray.)
The messaging
is oblique (Dev and Reena are not present when the song plays) but unmistakable.
Blackmail then is an engaging but flawed
tragi-comedy of errors.
Rating
(out of five stars): **
CBFC Rating (India):
|
UA
|
Running time:
|
139 minutes
|
This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
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