Saturday, August 03, 2013
BA Pass
More Desperate Housewives
Behind the well-appointed drawing rooms of
upper class Delhi, is a world of violence and lust, is what Ajay Bahl’s film, BA Pass says, and outside, is another
ugly world of desolation. Most films looking into sex and sleaze use the male
point of view, this one, based on Mohan Sikka’s short story Railway Aunty makes women equal
opportunity exploiters of the weak.
It also emphasises the popular voyeuristic
view of middle-aged housewives preying on young men for sexual gratification--
a bit disturbing since it feeds boys’ pornographic fantasies of being initiated
by sexy older women, or these Savita Bhabhi types being available for both sex
and money. At a time when even little
girls are being sexualised, one could do without this kind of laundry hanging
out to dry. This film is shot beautifully has a grain of truth in it, but in
spirit it’s not too different from the soft porn churned out by the seedy
studios in suburban by-lanes.
The erotic scenes may be bold by Indian
standards (since censors won’t allow nudity, there is just lingerie on show,
and some dry humping), but the story of young Mukesh (Shadab Kamal), being
lured by a deadpan older woman, Sarika (Shilpa Shukla), is as narrow-minded and
judgmental as the old woman who curses her randy daughter-in-law with all the
words used to describe women who break patriarchal rules. So, BA Pass is clearly not on the side of
the aggressive woman.
The boy, farmed out to other wives, is hardly
an object of sympathy, and what’s with the whiny sisters in the
background? There’s a typical virtuous
wife (Deepti Naval), who comes to the boy, not for what he offers, but for a
sympathetic ear. The chess-playing gravedigger Johnny (Dibyendu Bhattacharya)
seems to belong to another film.
The dark, tragic, cautionary tone of the film
seems a little out of sync with these out of the closet times, when all surveys
point to a sexually adventurous India.
The film could do with some humour and a lot more depth, particularly in
the portrayal of Sarika’s world; boorish husband, no kids, idleness,
boredom—could the desperate housewife get more clichéd? Also, Shukla plays the
character without any variations to her one haughty expression.
A film like this, which looks real on the
surface—glossy or seedy as required by the scene—is hailed as bold and dark,
and that it is, in the midst of Bollywood kitsch. Pity, it’s also hollow and needlessly
moralistic.
Labels: Cinemaah
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