In a crucial scene in Netflix’s
latest release ‘Bulbbul’, we see the younger daughter-in-law of the house,
Binodini (Paoli Dam), console a shaken ‘badi bahu’, Bulbul (Tripti
Dimri), ironically, with dark and disturbing words. In the end, Binodini says, ‘Bade
haveliyo mein bade raaz hote hai’ – which sums up this seemingly predictable,
yet intriguing movie with disturbing undertones. Written and directed by Anvita
Dutt, Bulbbul is a drama in the guise of a thriller, which challenges patriarchy
and the state of women in Bengal Presidency in the late 1800s.
Bulbbul opens with a wedding in
1880s, where a child bride, Bulbul, is married off to a much older man. The
groom – Bade Thakur (Rahul Bose), is a feudal lord with a mentally unstable
twin brother, Mahendra, his suspicious wife, Binodini, and a teen brother, Satya,
older than his newly wedded ‘bride’! The kids grow up playing together, with
Bulbul being fond of Satya, more than her husband. This seemingly platonic relationship
is broken when Satya leaves for London to study law (reminds of Devdas? Feudal
lords, London, barrister). When he returns five years later, his home has
changed – Bade Thakur has left the house, his twin brother is murdered and
rumours of a dreaded ‘chudail’ killing men in the village. While he
tries to unravel the mystery behind these deaths, the normalised patriarchy,
male chauvinism and oppressive culture of the day come to the fore.
As evident from its trailer,
Bulbbul is a spin-off on the fairy tales children grow up on. Unlike princesses
and fairies, Satya and Bulbul have their world filled with demonic characters hunting
evil. The murk that follows is majorly created by a shrewd & acerbic Binodini
and unfortunate misunderstanding between the characters. Behind the grandeur of
their haveli and shiny jewellery, they all hold dark secrets, stashed away from
each other. Their affairs and dalliances are hushed, just as the bruises on
their feet. As Binodini says, ‘Bade haveliyo mein bade raaz hote hai. Chup
raho’. Along with bade raaz, social evils against women and their ill-treatment
is normalised. But, will the ‘chudail’ obey the social construct and
stick to the norm of ‘chup raho’? The mysterious murders seem to say
otherwise. Bulbbul is as much a thriller as it is a commentary on the mistreatment
of women.
The movie has a sharp runtime of
90-odd minutes and has been written well by Anvita Dutt, moving back and forth
in time. However, the storyline is slim and one can predict the climax, which is
a flaw. But I think the makers wanted to highlight the trials and tribulations
of women – from child marriage to their place in the social construct, a lot of
issues have been touched upon. And may be that is the reason why the thriller
plot is a plain vanilla variant, and not developed intricately like a gourmet
flavour.
Shot in tints of red, greys and
burning fire, Bulbbul is visually an experiment which reminds us of the genius
photography of Tumbbad (2019). Shot stunningly by Siddharth Diwan, the red
tints symbolise Kaali – red, raging and thirsty for blood. After the
rage reduces, we see the movie in tints of greys and blues, symbolising tranquillity.
Or, probably, hinting at the approaching rage. A shoutout to the costumes and
production design by Veera Kapur and Meenal Agarwal, for creating the grand and
dark Bengal of the 1880s. Music by Amit Trivedi is sublime and goes well with
the intriguing structure of the movie. Despite its predictability and flaws,
Bulbbul is a brave attempt, especially for bringing leads in tones of grey.
Even as we think of Bulbul as a docile, demure young girl, her mysterious smile
holds dark secrets within. See her in the scene with a widowed Binodini – even as
Binodini remains sugar-coated and throws a barb at her, Bulbul, does not take
it back lying & stings harder. Talking of Binodini, while we see her as
cunning, opportunistic and manipulative all along, we realise in the end that
her circumstances and marriage to an unstable man make her the way she is. The
only man in the household who appears mildly kind and understanding towards the
women, Satya, actually turns out much like the other men – suspicious, jealous
and trying to do ‘the man’s job’. On the contrary, Bulbul’s doctor and
confidante, Sudip, is a more accommodative and supportive man – probably a
rarity in those days (probably a rarity even today!?). It is these characters
and their changing colours, which makes the movie intriguing.
Tripti Dimri is spectacular as Bulbul.
She beautifully uses her docile face and smile to hide her pain and angst. She is
complemented well by an equally unassuming Avinash Tiwari, as the
friend-cum-estranged-brother-in-law. As the man in a patriarchal society, he
grows to be a younger version of his brother and Avinash manages to exhibit
this transition beautifully. Paoli Dam and Parambrata Chattopadhyay also perform
well in their respective roles. But, the best performance here (apart from
Tripti Dimri) happens to be of its producer, Anushka Sharma’s. While ‘Clean
Slate Filmz’ has been churning out off-beat stories since its inception (NH10,
Phillauri), they have upped their game in OTT space with a hard-hitting ‘Pataal
Lok’ last month and a brave attempt in Bulbbul now.
Bulbbul has its flaws – biggest of
which is its predictable nature. But the uncomfortable subplots and feminist
angle do make it a relevant & interesting watch.
My Rating – 3.5/5
P.S: I had to give the additional
half for the sheer cinematic vision and efforts put in by the technical crew.
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