Anurag Kashyap's Ugly

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.