Let’s
first get the pink elephant out of the room – Detective Byomkesh Bakshy is not
for purists. If you’re a raging fan of Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay’s classic
character, you will find a billion things that don’t match your expectations.
This Dibakar Banerjee film is a new take on the character. If you can’t accept
that, exit this review and go back to your VHS tapes. For the rest, let’s get
to the good stuff.
The
opening scene of Detective Byomkesh
Bakshy is iconic. It’s a wintry 1940’s Calcutta night, a boat moors along
the coast and we see a pack of Orientals up to no good. A hooded figure emerges
from the darkness, its shadow cast on the wall in a sinister outsize. The
figure warns the Orientals that it wants Calcutta back, guffaws terrifyingly and
slits everyone’s throats open. It’s spine tingling. Hair raising. Mouth
frothing. It plunges you into the euphoric trance of a film buff getting the
most potent possible cinematic fix. At this point you know you’re about to see
something special.
Cut
a few days later straight to the case – the Chemical engineer father of Ajit
(Anand Tiwari) has gone missing, so he enlists the help of a certain Mr Bakshy.
Often times a movie about a larger than life hero showcases the protagonist’s
entry in a bombastic manner. Banerjee’s Bakshy, however, makes an unexpectedly
subtle entry playing carom and getting knocked in the face. It’s one of the
several instances where Banerjee’s direction subverts your expectations. There
isn’t much time to waste - Bakshy gets cracking on the case rather quickly. Clues
begin flooding in and he begins zooming around town sniffing at the
breadcrumbs. Sure enough, a body turns up, so does a seemingly antagonistic femme
fatale (Swastika Mukherjee), and Bakshy and Ajit find themselves afoot a
deliciously seedy conspiracy.
The
film’s storytelling style is pure unbridled sex with the camera. Every passing
clue is a thrilling experience, dragging us deeper into the murky mystery with
Sneha Khanwalkar’s insane industrial death metal music. Your jaw will remain on
the floor for most of the runtime because at any given instance there’s always
something leaping out to dazzle your eyes. Every frame of every scene has an
insane amount of intricate detailing that really brings the pre independent
Calcutta to life. At certain times the film even haughtily shows off the
gorgeous production design, like during the opening credits when the camera
slowly shows us poster clad Calcutta streets through a tram window. The
intoxicating visuals are complemented by the breakneck pace of the case, that
makes the two and a half hour runtime seem like a cool breeze.
The question
on everyone’s mind is if the film borrows any elements or style from Guy
Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes or its BBC counterpart. Fortunately it doesn’t. This
is neither an action movie nor a tale of an unstoppable super genius. This
detective is refreshingly human and grounded, despite being a Bollywood hero. His
‘heroism’ exists on a level that’s exactly between Rajit Kapoor and Benedict
Cumberbatch. It’s surely a tough balance to pull off, considering Bakshy is up
against Samurai tuition teachers, Japanese drug lords from Shanghai and a
mysterious figure that is more dangerous than either of them. So Bakshy is
beaten, both physically and intellectually. This is his first big case and the
rust and mild vulnerability is on full display.
Slipping
seamlessly between shyness to good-natured cockiness to enthusiastic charm,
Sushant Singh Rajput is a fun Byomkesh Bakshy. A lot of times he underplays the
character, letting his costumes and unibrow do the work. Banerjee has no doubt
refined Sushant’s quiet, soft-spoken presence into a likable and offbeat acting
style. He has his showreel moment in a scene in which he gets high and unlocks
a puzzle to the mystery.
Beyond
the hundreds of plusses in the film, there is a shadow of a minus. The third
act of the film will forever be the subject of bickering and argument between
people who’ve seen the film. It’s not that the finale is disappointing – it’s
actually much more than that. It’s really hard to describe what goes wrong
without going into spoiler territory, but there is a certain dependence on red
herrings that Banerjee suddenly indulges in, and it feels cheap and also
frustrating. Something huge happens half way through, and in the third act the
film leads you to believe it’s more than what it is, when it actually isn’t. And
despite that the film runs an hour and a half post interval, making that huge
event a dubious attempt at whodunit storytelling. What makes it stranger is
that the final few minutes go into over the top masala Bollywood territory,
totally out of place when the tone of rest of the film is so beautifully
controlled on a tight leash. No matter how you look at it, the sense of
disappointment is very hard to shake off once you leave the theater .
Another
aspect that falls flat is the femme fatale of Swastika Mukherjee who makes the
worst Bollywood debut since Nargis Fakhri in Rockstar. Most of her seduction is
unintentionally hilarious at best, and her big dramatic moment only hurts the
film at its weakest point. Fortunately she’s balanced out by the rest of the excellent
cast, including Neeraj Kabi, Divya Menon and particularly Tiwari as the
sidekick who literally kicks down doors with his side.
What
works best in the film is that you absolutely do not have to be familiar with
the old cases of Byomkesh Bakshy to enjoy this film. It’s perfectly calibrated for
both old hats and newcomers to the character. It’s made to render a bit of pop
culture to today’s audiences – after all we’ve never really had an adventurer
in desi cinema. The film, ultimately, is a wicked cocktail of clues, images,
sounds, emotions and sensations, and from start to end you’ll be firmly affixed
to the edge of your seat. Hopefully this is the start of a franchise, and the
dawn of a bold new era for Yash Raj.
(First published in Firstpost)
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