Based on the short prose of acclaimed filmmaker, the late Satyajit Ray, director Abhishek Chaubey’s contribution to the ‘Ray’ anthology series on Netflix, ‘Hungama Hai Kyon Barpa’ follows 2 eccentric strangers on a transformative train journey. One of them, Musafir Ali is a former pickpocket-turned-famed Ghazal singer/poet, while the other who goes by the moniker of Mr Baig is a sports journalist who once achieved success as a one-hit wonder in the field of wrestling. This isn’t their first meeting, as both the travelers are connected via a common object of their desire- a golden pocket watch, aptly named as ‘Khushbakht’ (which translates to ‘lucky’ in Urdu) which, as per its name, bequeaths its wearer with good fortune. This same object of desire hounds Musafir with guilt now, as he finds himself seated opposite Mr. Baig once again, and he finds himself grappling with feelings of frustration over an inability to come clean to his fellow traveler from whom he’d snatched his ‘destiny’ away in the very same compartment years prior to his successful singing career. Now this remorseful poet must muster up the courage to unload his heavy burden at the next station, lest it eats away at his soul…
Instead of offering a comparison of the onscreen adaptation with its literary counterpart (mainly since I haven’t read the latter as yet… Ray fanatics, don’t come at me!), I’ll focus on this adaptation’s many strengths, such as its strongest forte yet- The comedy writing which is punctuated with witty puns galore, wordplay joke upon wordplay joke, and personally, the scene featuring Musafir Ali visiting a physician who diagnoses him with ‘kilepato-maaniya’ is especially one that lives rent-free inside this English lit major’s head.
The dialogue is a unique blend of Hindi and Urdu, interspersed with shayari/couplets, and is as whimsical as it is verbose, even nuanced if one pays close attention. But don’t worry, as even for those viewers not fluent of either language like myself, even with the English subtitles turned on, the nuances aren’t entirely lost either. Pay even closer attention, and you might even catch a meta reference or two, particularly if one is an admirer of both Satyajit Ray and Manoj Bajpayee’s works. The jest and jokes also run parallel to a thought provoking social commentary on topics such as greed, the human tendency to blame one’s stars rather than actually hold oneself accountable, atonement, vanity, etc.
Its storytelling is interlaced with a healthy dosage of magical realism, and another noteworthy element is the experimental nature of its execution- Ranging from the visual storytelling and cinematography on display here- Such as Musafir constantly breaking the fourth (maybe even the fifth) wall as he addresses his omnipresent audience who tags along on the train journey and thus simultaneously the metaphorical ghosts of his past which finally catch up to him, hallucinatory sequences that feature him imagining his ‘victim’ lunging at him from across the berth, even cursing an already accursed man in a vindictive tone, and the mirror shots that are indicative of the two-faced attitudes prevailing within both the men.
Gajraj Rao showcases his versatility in the role of the two faced Mr. Baig, whose cuddlesome Paddington Bear-esque persona acts as a facade for his ‘Jekyll Hyde moments’. Watching this veteran of the craft transition between a sweet and righteous gentleman offering bittersweet concoctions such as tea infused with dried lime (an Arabic delicacy that’s also an acquired taste) to his fellow passenger, and an unhinged former wrestler threatening to break the latter’s jaw with his bare hands is truly what one might call a masterclass in acting. The rubber faced Manoj Bajpayee excels at lending ample support to his co-star. Bajpayee showcases his prowess in a memorable instance wherein his character finally finds peace and redemption at the next station, undergoing a subtle evolution in his body language as this formerly disgraced man arrives at his destination with a reassured skip in his step. Both actors, who were last sighted sharing screen space two decades ago in the neo-noir paranormal thriller ‘Aks’, share an effervescent chemistry that needs to be bottled, and fortunately, this time around the duo is afforded a lot more screen time together. Their onscreen charm further enlivens proceedings and I demand a buddy cop flick starring these two in the lead stat! In fact, their natural banter almost made me feel as if I was impeding upon a private conversation between two drunk uncles. A special mention to the set design and suave styling of the characters, be it Musafir’s classy suede brocade vests that catch the eye or the colour coordinated outfits of Musafir and Baig, the latter of which achieves the desired effect of foreshadowing the shared lifestyle choices and traits of both these men who are more similar than they might think.
Clocking in a running time of nearly an hour, ‘Hungama Hai Kyon Barpa’ is occasionally derailed by a handful of scenes in the first half that are unnecessarily dragged out or feel a tad over indulgent, and could have been trimmed. Additionally, while the surrealistic plot points are well-executed, it certainly had potential to be far trippier, thus pushing the envelope even further (then again, I might sound biased since I haven’t read the original source material and thus am entirely clueless regarding the quirkiness in the original).
Overall Abhishek Chaubey still serves up a cinematic offering that’s as slurp-a-licious as the tempting snacks served up at the fictional Ghalib’s snack shop, so do treat yourselves. However once you’ve gotten a taste for it…
Jinx Coolness' Cinephile Blog 