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Khufiya premises its narrative with the poetic description of Heena alias ‘Octopus’ – a spy. But the crux of Vishal Bhardwaj‘s espionage thriller doesn't just focus on her being an intelligence agent working for India, but also follows her journey as Krishna Mehra (Tabu), the protagonist’s primary love interest.
Arguably, the story does not dwell on the desire that is palpable between the two. It’s sparingly mentioned – love is acknowledged but it never becomes the central focus of the story.
It seems the film is instead deceptively fixated on Ravi, the ‘mole’ played by Ali Fazal – a man with questionable principles who is easily swayed by greed. His wife, Charu (Wamiqa Gibbi), also becomes embroiled in his schemes as he spies for North America, inevitably betraying his country.
Heena, on the other hand, at the very onset, is murdered by Mirza, the Bangladeshi Defense Minister, who is touted to be a puppet in the hands of ISI. After this, she appears in the movie through flashbacks, to bring fodder for Tabu’s quiet quest for vengeance.
But the film’s tonality does not attempt to dominate one storyline over the other. The premature end to Krishna’s love story with Heena and Ravi’s hands in it (he is the one who reveals Heena's identity to Mirza) is in tandem with each other. The end of Heena and Krishna's love, with the prior's death, lays the foundation for Ravi to be caught red-handed.
Desire in spy-thrillers is often a trope for deceit. There's always room for scheming and betrayal. In the film, Heena is caught as a double agent for ISI and India, betraying the trust of Krishna, who is also her recruiter. But to prove her loyalty she accepts a dangerous mission, which leads to her untimely death.
Yet, believed deceit, in actuality, is the bedrock to foment Heena’s love for Krishna. After Heena's death, their love becomes a subtext to catching Ravi.
Queer narratives often do not have happy endings. For instance, Hansal Mehta’s Aligarh follows the story of Prof. Ramchandra Siras’ (Manoj Bajpayee) whose life is turned upside down when news of his sexuality is brought to the fore.
Films like Badhaai Do may not follow a similar trajectory but the central focus is on Sumi (Bhumi Pednekar) and Shardul’s (Rajkummar Rao) 'heterosexual' relationship albeit only to conceal Sumi's sexual orientation, making the love story between the queer couple (Rimjhim and Sumi) secondary.
Khufia does not steer away from the queer narrative, but it does seemingly fall into the trappings of the ‘bury your gays’ trope. Yet Bhardwaj subverts the overarching nature of the trope. Despite the lack of a happy ending, Heena’s death isn’t triggered because of her queerness.
Meanwhile, the film is primarily through Krishna’s gaze. She watches Heena as she attempts to navigate her feelings for her. She does the same with her enemies – surveilling them.
But her gaze is commonplace. Bhardwaj never lets it border on titillation despite the protagonist’s desire for Heena. It’s almost ordinary in its effect. She is observant – masking her feelings almost too well, till cracks appear, and briefly, Heena and Krishna’s love finds fruition.
Moreover, desire in Khufia isn't a plot device, it marginally may add momentum to the plot but not overtly so. Especially because Heena’s relation to Krishna is a secret.
In this sense, the underbelly of the film is the desire for – firstly, a woman Krishna thinks has betrayed her and her country – and secondly, her desire for a woman, in general. This is evident when she is unable to communicate to her son what her profession is and why she is divorced.
Identity becomes contentious in the film. With aliases and names changing like revolving doors, there is not much that can afford stability. Heena is a spy and Krishna an undercover RAW agent. They are both expert liars.
But simultaneously Krishna acknowledges the complexity of her desire and identity when she beats a man to pulp, blaming him for Heena's death and also when she sends Heena's father money after she has passed.
Bhardwaj, thereby, portrays the everyday nature of queer love in a story predominantly about spooks and fast-deteriorating geopolitical relations, expertly. In a sense, depicting the subtext of queer desire, without arguably the baggage of identity.
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