Review: Limited Run
Bombay Velvet | Anurag Kashyap | India | 2015 | 149 min
Now Playing at AMC Star 18 Fitchburg through May 28»
More Hollywood than Bollywood (songs yes, dancing no), Bombay Velvet is a visually sumptuous but ultimately unsatisfying journey through gangster film conventions. But go see (and hear) it anyway.
After a bit of a dry spell, Madison theaters are once again picking up more Hindi and Telugu language popular cinema from India. As the Madison Film Forum returns to a regular schedule in June, I will to my best to look at and discuss as many as I can here.
Anurag Kashyap’s Bombay Velvet has an interesting mixed pedigree. It stars Ranbir Kapoor, grandson of the legendary Raj Kapoor (Awaara, Mr. 420). and Anushka Sharma, who co-starred with Amir Khan in last year’s hit, P.K. Director Kashyap has had a recent string of hits internationally with the two-part Gangs of Wasseypur and a segment in Bombay Talkies, both of which were featured at the Cannes Film Festival. The fact that Bombay Velvet opened on two screens in Madison (when is the last time that has happened for any other kind of foreign language film?) points to ways in which Bollywood producers and distributors are now fully embracing the opportunities presented by digital distribution and projection in the international market.
But as more globally-conscious studios like Fox (through its Fox Star Hindi subsidiary) continue to invest in Bollywood productions, we see developments that reflect an interest in producing a global-friendly product (apparently including Hollywood-style press junkets). Most obviously, there are usually fewer music and dance sequences seen in global hits like Bang Bang (which, incidentally, also opened in Madison on two screens). In the case of Bombay Velvet, we get plenty of songs (12 in fact, many in excerpts), but none of the bursting into song and dance we associate with Bollywood. Martin Scorsese is thanked in the pre-credits, and Bombay Velvet‘s connection to Hollywood filmmaking is even more direct with Scorsese’s long-time collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker sharing the editing credit.
The result of this mixed pedigree is itself mixed. Bombay Velvet is a reasonably entertaining gangster film that doesn’t go much deeper than basic genre conventions. The gorgeous production design and cinematography provide many reasons to see (and hear) the film on the big screen. But few of those reasons are likely to satisfy fans who actually enjoy the unique genre hybrids usually on display in Bollywood films.
Big Shot, Big City
The story begins shortly after Indian independence, as two boys, Balraj (Kapoor) and Chimman (Satyadeep Misra), meet and begin a life of petty crime. Meanwhile, a young girl, Rosie (Anushka Sharma) begins a singing career under the harsh thumb of an abusive manager. All three quickly grow up, and the main action takes place in the late 1960s, as their lives begin to interweave with two media moguls on opposite sides of the Cold War: Kaizad Khambata (played by director Karan Johar, in his acting debut), a capitalist who aligns himself with U.S. allies, and Jamshed “Jimmy” Mistry, a socialist who aligns himself with Soviet allies. Bombay is about to transform itself into a major metropolis, so Khambata and Mistry attempt to position themselves to retain power in the new political landscape.
Khambata watches Balraj admirably take a beating in an underground fighting match, and he hires Balraj and Chimman to take care of some of his dirty work. Eventually, Kaizad nicknames Balraj “Johnny,” and hires him to front as a manager of his club, Bombay Velvet. As Johnny Balraj, he fully embraces the “big shot” persona, inspired by Jimmy Cagney and other American gangster film stars. Johnny quickly falls for Rosie, who has become a headlining singer at Bombay Velvet. When Rosie leaves the club with Jimmy Mistry, headstrong Johnny vows that Rosie will be his some day.
Setting Bombay Velvet against the background of Bombay before it became a metropolis is one of the more intriguing aspects of the film, but it doesn’t always capitalize on that opportunity. Prohibition laws limited the sale of alcohol to foreigners and their guests, which allowed the club to exist (a comedian explains to local patrons that the club can “provide a white for you”). The politics of the real estate “reclamation” process and the proposed building of a World Trade Center (which was eventually built in 1970) could have provided enough political intrigue for a serious examination of the relationship between capitalism and organized crime as in the Godfather films. But for the most part, these intriguing details stay in the background as Kashyap instead pursues typical gangster mainstays: the kid who makes it too big, too fast; the friends who have to decide on their loyalties; the woman who sees beyond the violence in her man. Several times Kashyap tips his hat not only to classic gangster films but also filmmakers who likewise have tipped their hat to those films, like Scorsese and DePalma.
While most target audiences would know Kapoor from his previous films and famous family, I was impressed by how he seemed to channel a young Mean Streets-era Robert DeNiro; He has the same combination of hubris, ignorance, and brute force (and that dumb look in his eye that scares you because you don’t know what he is going to do). Anushka Sharma is as photogenic as ever in the film, but she seems strangely limited in what she is allowed to do, even as a performer in the club. While their relationship maintains more verisimilitude by not breaking in to song outside of the club, and never breaking into dance, there is something a bit boring about their chemistry despite their respective charisma. The rest of the cast is game, but only focusing on the surface details prevents the film from really taking off, even if we just look at it within the Hollywood idiom to which it aspires.
Bright Lights, Big Drums, Big Guns
Technically, however, there are many reasons to go see (and hear) Bombay Velvet on the big screen. It is still refreshing to see Bollywood films that disregard the limited color palette of Hollywood realism. Cinematographer Rajeev Ravi seems unafraid of color, and introduces several tints that you would likely never see a Hollywood cinematographer attempt (with the possible exception of Steven Soderbergh). So while it is disappointing that the film focuses on the surface level, it is a pretty gorgeous surface level.
A particularly memorable sequence in terms of color involves a club performance by Rosie. She stands at the microphone in a violet dress, and as you absorb the image you realize that she not only has matching violet lipstick, but the microphone is also highlighted in violet between the chrome. In the wider shots, the band in the background is covered in a saturated green light, but parts of the frame still fall to complete darkness. This is just one of many flamboyant and audacious uses of light and color in the film, and one should give credit where credit is due.
There are equally flamboyant and audacious uses of sound. When Johnny Balraj finally has his “say hello to my li’l friend” moment with a tommy gun, the sound designers play on the syncopation between the jazz drum soundtrack and the rhythm of the gunfire. In fact, the gunfire slows down to the point that it is actually slower than the fast drumbeat.
Despite my reservations, you should go see Bombay Velvet (do I ever tell you not to see a film?). If you’re going to see many so-so films this summer, you might as well go to one that despite its shortcomings is still worth looking at and listening to.