Anurag
Kashyap’s masterstroke for his latest film is to title it Ugly, for no other
word can describe the people in it, and the situations they get into, so aptly,
making it possibly one of the most ingeniously titled film of the year. The
beauty, well and truly, lies in its simplicity, and still this is only one
among the many things that Kashyap gets right with Ugly.
The
plot of a kidnapped girl, with her father and cops searching for her has some
similarities to Dennis Villeneuve’s Prisoners, and is evocative of the film in
its atmospherics, style and the usage of background score as well, but Ugly
also has a touch of Coen Brothers’ dark comedy. Yet, this is not homage to
neither, for Anurag Kashyap, in fine form as a writer after a really long time,
gives it a dynamic edge, and brings certain uniqueness like only he can, be it
the characters he lovingly wrote for everyone, including the artists playing
small parts, in the film, or the knack with which he finds humor in its darkest
form in situations where we least expect them.
Two
scenes stand out. The one where the father and his friend try to lodge a
complaint about their missing daughter, while the Police just toy with the
information they are provided, and the scene turns out quickly to be farcical,
that we almost forget the bigger picture. Yet, in the very next scene, Kashyap
shows the same Police men to be business like and supremely effective when they
come to know that it was their boss’ daughter that they were trying to find.
Another scene is when Shoumik tells Rahul that his friend Chaitanya was the
real kidnapper and asks him to spy on him. Chaitanya goes full throttle in
abusing Rahul and letting him know of his place, and that it was on his account
that Rahul has been surviving all his days. All this while the audience knows
that Chaitanya is secretly betraying Rahul. Another great example of stunning
dark humor. My Hat is already off.
The
acting in Ugly deserves separate mention in itself. Everyone gets author-backed
roles, and they knock each line out of the park. Ronit Roy’s restraint is far
more frightening than his rage, Tejaswini Kolhapuri’s helplessness can make us
shift in our seats with guilt, Girish Kulkarni’s cop Jadhav elicits guffaws
every time he’s on screen, and all others at their competitive best in their
roles. This can serve as a great acting lesson.
No
Anurag Kashyap film is complete without the man’s self indulgence. Ugly
provides two instances of it. The first is when Shoumik asks Jadhav to sing an
item song which goes with words like nichodna and jhinjhodna. This scene does
not add anything to the narrative, makes the characters look inconsistent, does
not go with the flow of the rest of the film. The only purpose it serves is to
give a delightful pay-off, but can be avoided otherwise. Other instance is when
a character dances in his underwear forever. These scenes hamper the pace of
the film in the second half and when we are getting increasingly concerned about
the fate of the girl.
Ugly
is not a morality tale; it is a constant reminder of the futility of misplaced
notions of revenge, infidelity, betrayal, and lies that pervade human nature.
This is not a world any of us would want to be a part of, and yet it is all too
real. If its’ character don’t meet violent ends, they were delivered violent
kick in their guts, taking the wind and even personality out of them with its
brutality. Had the film been cut by about 30 minutes, we could have a
masterpiece in our hands. For what it is, however, it still is one of the most
unique Indian films to come out in a very long time.
Bravo
Anurag Kashyap.
