Watching Apoorv Singh Karki’s Bhaiyya Ji is an “experience” in the same way going into a haunted house as a child is an ‘experience’. That’s not a fair comparison though – let's assume you’re stuck in this haunted house long after you’ve asked to leave. As someone who needs to only be mildly interested in something to give it a real shot, I tend to overlook a lot of flaws when I’m watching something. But Bhaiyya Ji continued to test my patience even as I tried to give it one chance after another.
Why did I continue to hope, you might wonder. Perhaps because of my memories of Manoj Bajpayee in Satya. Surely the man who played Bhiku Mhatre would fit into Bhaiyya Ji seamlessly but alas, the film defeats the star in this case.
It becomes evident, pretty early on, that the film is attempting a lot – the South movies action template becomes evident from the echoing dialogues, the over-the-top action sequences, and the stronger than your average person hero. The 80s Bollywood effect of the grieving and vengeful mother, the kind-hearted brother, the word ‘sautela’ being thrown around, the ‘mere Karan-Arjun aaenge’ melodrama are all there. Ironically, while I might sound disdainful now, these are not templates I dislike.
In fact, in the right film, the masala and melodrama can be quite arresting. This is not that film – the sure-footedness and skill required to make the audience enjoy this is absent. Mere days ago I rewatched Om Shanti Om for the umpteenth time (this comparison might not make sense right now but stay with me). That is a film that understands camp and exaggeration – even the most nonsensical of moments have the craft required to make them seem perfect. That is cinema.
Let’s talk about the premise. A young man is killed by a sneering villain Abhimanyu (Jatin Goswami) because of a spat over a paratha – he does so with an impunity provided to him by virtue of being a powerful politician’s son. He is confident that there are no consequences to his reckless acts of violence. The commentary about law, power, and violence is interesting but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. In fact, we have seen it way too many times for it to remain interesting.
The victim’s older brother is our hero in question – Ram Charan (Bajpayee) who has sworn off violence after a particularly bloody confrontation in the past. His moniker is enough to make people quake in fear – still a pretty fun premise if you ask me. What’s a more powerful motivator than revenge? So Ram Charan picks up his weapon of choice – a shovel – and off he goes!
There isn’t much wrong with using the brother to take revenge for his brother’s death template but lord, does it need to be more innovative now. It’s 2024. The slow-motion shots, and there’s many of them, do work sometimes. The intention to become a massy film is evident. But the technical craft just doesn’t seem to catch up to that intention.
A particularly moving scene (supposedly) of a man falling off a bridge feels comical because of the way it’s shot and edited. This comical effect returns in the movie at some points – by the time a woman yells, “Humein pratishod chahiye!” I was at my limit. Add to this, the overwhelming background score by Sandeep Chowta and you have a deadly mix. Even the action sequences leave much to be desired – one sequence on that ill-fated bridge feels like everyone is trying to practice their marks. I almost expected to see the boom mic come into frame.
Bihar and Delhi become difficult to differentiate between even as the oversaturated palette might work for some. The film cuts from one VFX fire to another over and over again to establish a connection that is obvious to even the most casual of watchers. Even as Bajpayee tries to hold the screenplay in place with his earnest efforts, there’s just not enough to hold on to.
This reliance on repetition affects his performance as well – he sputters in shock for way too long and every emotion is drawn out. That being said, the actor is still someone who can switch between emotions at the drop of a hat, making his outbursts feel believable even in the exaggerated setting.
Some of the ‘ideas’ are interesting – there is some effort to put the female lead on equal footing as the “hero” even though she does end up getting rescued by the hero sometimes. I must however admit that Zoya Hussain seems to be made for action – she delivers some of the finest action work in the film. The sequence where Manoj Bajpayee and Zoya Hussain’s characters are fighting together is one of the film’s best sequences even though the film is still treating the audience like they can’t understand a simple 2+2.
The film would’ve benefited from putting some of its better bits forward – for instance, Ram Charan’s camaraderie with men who fought with his father but are now way past their prime is one of the film’s best bits. It’s also a set-up that could’ve been utilised in multiple different ways. There is some Indian folklore that seeps in which, once again, had me hoping for something more.
Films like Bulbbul and Exhuma have explored how brilliantly folk tales can be used in storytelling but that, too, is squandered. Bhaiyya Ji is a film that actually exists in the could’ve should’ve more than it does in what we see on screen.
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