"Bhonsle" | Manoj reaffirms his class
Two images linger in minds of people long after Devashish Makhija’s latest release, a mostly silent collage of unhurried images, has played itself out.
The first is a ‘Ganpati’ idol with the trademark trunk yet to be attached to its frame, which the camera captures right at the start. It is the onset of Ganesh Chaturthi in Mumbai, and the rather incomplete image of a deity so overwhelmingly worshipped in the city almost defines desecration of humanity, a notion the film goes on to underline.
Close to the ‘Ganpati’ vignette is a squalid mid-shot of a pile of rodents - the lord’s ‘vahana’ - infesting an open gutter of Churchill Chawl, primary location of the film. Makhija perhaps inserted the split-moment sequence as a symbol of the ‘chawl’, the denizens among whom the drama will play out, huddled together in their microcosmic world and yet gearing up for a showdown where, trouncing ethos, bestial law will prevail.
For, Makhija latest puts a few Bihari immigrants in Mumbai in the same little ‘chawl’ as a handful of Marathi residents. Who else but Lord Ganpati should set off the tension that will simmer over the next couple of hours as Vilas (Santosh Juvekar), a young self-appointed upholder of Marathi honour takes it upon himself to host a cent per cent Marathi Ganesh Chaturthi in the ‘chawl’. The point of attrition here is the ritual was organised by a few of the ‘outsiders’ for years in the ‘chawl’.
At the head of the outsiders’ band is the wily Rajinder (Abhishek Banerjee in a brief but expectedly brilliant role), who wastes no time in playing the victim card whenever Vilas gets rough on him, bringing up the question of identity. Caught in their depraved power politics is Lalu (Virat Vaibhav), a young boy who lives with his sister Sita (Ipshita Chakraborty Singh) and who becomes the primary plot-pusher in the film.
Makhija’s narrative style, though, has an interesting spin. His actual protagonist is far removed from these characters among whom the drama plays out. Manoj Bajpayee, as Ganpath Bhonsle, is an aged reclusive cop who has been forced into retirement by his department.
Bajpayee essays a near-silent role, for Bhonsle is a man of few words. Makhija and his co-writers (Mirat Trivedi and Sharanya Rajgopal) let Bhonsle be a silent spectator to the bristling drama that unfolds through most of the screenplay, before a brutal twist in the story thrusts him to the centre-stage and the quiet Bhonsle explodes with violent vehemence. Almost the entire narrative is written in a way that it serves as a build-up for those final 15-odd minutes in the end. The idea makes the film slow-paced.
The story of ‘Bhonsle’, highlighting abuse of societal divide in the city of Mumbai, is unflinching in the way it squarely zooms in on Marathi hatred for Bihari settlers - more so, how the power-hungry use such a situation for self-gains, in the process victimising the powerless. This is Manoj Bajpayee’s show, despite the fact that even extras with speaking roles have more dialogues than him.
Bhonsle in the end fights as a vigilante to ensure justice is served to the powerless, irrespective of which side of the ethnic divide he stands. In the process, he defines the mark of a true Maratha and Bajpayee in turn comes up with a career-defining act - people will discount ‘Aligarh’, of course, when they say that.
