Neeraj Ghaywan’s gentle and empathetic filmmaking transcends the intrusion of hate and censorship.
Neeraj Ghaywan’s Homebound is based on Basharat Peer’s New York Times article, “A Friendship, a Pandemic, and a Roadside Death,” but subtle parallels can also be drawn between Shazia Iqbal’s Dhadak 2 and Ghaywan’s drama. If Neelesh, played by Siddhant Chaturvedi, tried to escape politics to focus solely on himself, Chandan Kumar (Vishal Jethwa) conceals his identity by falsifying it on forms and in the presence of others, including government officials.
Director: Neeraj Ghaywan
Writers: Shreedhar Dubey, Neeraj Ghaywan, Varun Grover
Stars: Ishaan Khatter, Vishal Jethwa, Janhvi Kapoor
Like Neelesh, Chandan doesn’t understand English at university, and he, too, receives a wedding invitation from his girlfriend (Janhvi Kapoor). And let’s not forget all those Ambedkar posters everywhere.
Homebound, in a sense, is what Dhadak 2 should have been. Iqbal, however, despite all his good intentions, remained on the sidelines. He eventually discarded the very bitter pill he had been forcing on the audience. Ghaywan also gives you a bitter pill; however, he neither forces you to swallow it nor dismisses it. Rather, he gently places it before you and then challenges you not to be moved. Ghaywan is, first and foremost, a humanist. When he focuses on characters belonging to the minority, he doesn't exploit their pain like a sensationalist. There are moments in Homebound when the background briefly fades, placing the characters in the foreground: people who are often ignored by the mainstream. This shower of attention is devoid of exaltation; it aims to expose the dirty laundry that politicians and the privileged public have long ignored or swept under the rug.
Speaking of politicians, unlike Peer's article, Homebound doesn't launch direct attacks on any political party. However, the critique is just as sharp and incisive as in the article. Homebound can be considered a kind of sister film to Anubhav Sinha's Bheed. In both films, the higher-ups never appear, having remained absent during the crisis, issuing orders from their ivory towers, from the comfort of their own homes. It makes sense, then, that a high-angle shot of migrant workers walking home at night under three streetlights feels "cinematic." For the observer from above, the struggling crowd becomes material for entertainment, drama, and visual delight. But when Ghaywan's camera is on the ground and close to the characters—which it is for almost the entire film—what we experience is a series of intense emotional jolts. One of these comes when Chandan goes to the office to inquire about the results of the police exam and speaks with a man who expresses his contempt for the reservations. The obvious way to admire this scene is by discussing its text, which leaves a gap in the center of the screen. But it is also here that Ghaywan demonstrates his talent for skillfully directing actors. The employee, noticing Chandan's pain and asking him to sit down, is initially sympathetic and kind. However, he suddenly transforms into a hideous beast when asked his name and caste, revealing his contempt for oppressed and marginalized communities. He humiliates and exposes Chandan with his malevolent gaze. Online movie streaming services.
The dominant political philosophy in India is rooted in Hindu ideology. The right openly prioritizes Hinduism over secularism, equality, and constitutional rights, and encourages Hindus to unite. But through Chandan Kumar, Ghaywan exposes the absurdities of supposed Hindus and their devotion to the caste system, which actually destroys the concept of unity. This idea is taken a step further by revealing Chandan's full name: Chandan Kumar Valmiki. Interestingly, Valmiki was a great poet and the author of the Ramayana, an epic revered by all sectors of Hindu society.
Ghaywan's thoughts are perceived with such subtlety that he seems like a man who can't help but chuckle at the state of the nation. However, Ghaywan doesn't always mock the absurdities. There are scenes where he shouts. When Mohammed Shoaib Ali (Ishaan Khatter) becomes the target of cheap jokes from his colleagues, who label him "Pakistani," he stands his ground, says enough is enough, and quits the company.
Perhaps, if he weren't poor and Muslim, this moment could have been a turning point in an underdog story (a hero who rejects a large corporation and its employees for his own dignity). Shoaib, however, is poor and Muslim. He belongs to an India where anyone can freely mock their religion, their identity, without worrying about repercussions or sanctions. In the same way, Chandan's family—his mother (Shalini Vatsa) and his sister (Harshika Parmar)—are insulted.
Given the subject matter Ghaywan tackles, it's remarkable that he manages to maintain a degree of rationality instead of painting the story in black and white. If two police officers beat Chandan and Shoaib for breaking lockdown rules, two more officers later put them in an ambulance. If one employee looks down on Shoaib because of his religion, another employee recognizes and praises his sales skills. When Chandan goes to Shoaib's house for biryani and finds the door locked, two Muslims walk by, eyeing him suspiciously. Yet everyone at Shoaib's house treats Chandan like family.
Shoaib's mother (Sudipta Saxena) supports the expansion of Chandan's house, and Chandan and Shoaib see each other as brothers: their friendship is purely Hindu-Muslim-bhai-bhai, or rather, Dalit-Muslim-bhai-bhai. Perhaps expecting something as basic as equality and justice from a system that can't even administer exams properly is asking too much. However, one cannot live such a bleak life without some hope, some motivation. Motivation is what Chandan offers Shoaib, using a cricket ball as an example. A ball's true purpose is in the air, and when it is in the air, it travels to its destination. Ghaywan's social and political commentary can be supplemented by noting that the air, which carries the ball, is polluted (the Air Quality Index (AQI) is always at or above a full century).
In any case, Chandan and Shoaib can be seen as cricket balls tossed in stormy weather. They are tossed mercilessly by the bat of life, and each gust knocks them further off course. They drift far from their expected destinations, leaving them at the mercy of forces beyond their control. People like Chandan and Shoaib are often easily discarded. They are treated as disposable. Shoaib's boss values him because he consistently generates profit. However, when someone makes a joke at Shoaib's expense, the same boss laughs openly instead of defending him. Parents often rely on people like Chandan's mother and sister to help their children with bathroom and cleaning needs. But as soon as they're served food, chaos erupts. In a broader context, it would be fair to say that politicians try to please the public when seeking votes during election rallies. However, once elected, they often make clumsy decisions for the public, ignoring them and treating them as individuals to be controlled or ignored. This mirrors the behavior of the factory manager where Shoaib and Chandan work, who ignores his employees' concerns and phone calls when the nationwide lockdown is imposed.
Generally, in movies, best friends are portrayed as telepathic pairs who can read each other's minds and share every secret. However, Ghaywan avoids this cliché. Shoaib and Chandan are siblings, but they also have their own boundaries. For example, when Chandan buys his mother some sneakers, he doesn't show them to Shoaib to ask for his opinion. In fact, he hides the box from him and basically tells him to mind his own business. This friendship is strained when Chandan passes the police exams and Shoaib is left working as a laborer. Ghaywan feels tense while searching for a PDF, and when Chandan shares the good news at home, the frame is bright, yellowish, and cheerful.
On the other hand, when Shoaib delivers the bad news to his parents, the frame is bluish, dark, and somber. When Chandan and Shoaib score a goal during a cricket match, Shoaib carries him on his shoulders and runs joyfully. The same image takes on a depressing tone later, due to the chaos caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. Speaking about that cricket match, Chandan complains that the team won because of him, but because of his caste, no one applauded him. A similar sentiment is echoed in another cricket match, where a Muslim player is celebrated for helping India win against Pakistan, but an ordinary Muslim is mocked for his religion, for who he is. Online movie streaming services.
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