REVIEW: That Girl In Yellow Boots

LOVE AND LONGING IN MUMBAI

Anurag Kashyap is the unqualified chronicler of urban depravation in contemporary Hindi cinema. He says it like it is—if you don't like to see the ugly truth, steer clear of his turf. In film after film, he clinically peels the mask off civilised society and in turn, a cinema that feeds on and into its hypocrisy. He takes you to places no other filmmaker dares to go and throws all the filth you're trying to wish away straight at your face. It is remarkable that he believes such cinema will find its own audience and did so, even when it didn't and his films either couldn't get released or bombed miserably.

Kashyap knows how to tell a story and also to use the medium skillfully. The dreary streets of Paharganj in Dev D and the netherworld of Mumbai in No Smoking and Black Friday took us far, far away from the rose-tinted make-believe of Bollywood. Paanch was a punch in the gut the Censor Board just couldn't recover from. He's found a dependable ally in cinematographer Rajeev Ravi who makes seedy, dingy, unglamorous surroundings look poetic while Kashyap infuses his miserable characters with real emotions and depth.

Which is why, That Girl In Yellow Boots is disappointing. In every film he's made so far, Kashyap has pushed the envelope further. While he's remained true to his cinematic language and evolved a distinctive visual and narrative style, he hasn't repeated himself. With this film, sadly, he does just that.

You keep watching Kalki Koechlin's Ruth (Kalki has co-written the film too) in TGIYB with bated breath, waiting for her to break free from the shadow of Dev D's Chanda, the young girl whose life takes bizarre twists leading her up to a brothel, but nothing she goes through can ultimately rob her of her zest. She's vulnerable while being street-smart and sensible even when she has enough reason to be angry with the world.

Ruth, like her, is a half-Indian girl who has travelled to India on a tourist visa and stayed on long after her permit expired. Her reason: a letter from her father who deserted the family 15 years ago and whose memory her mother purposefully tried to wipe out. The father asks for her forgiveness, Ruth figures out he's somewhere in India and goes around looking for him with desperation and longing.

Meanwhile she works illegally at a spa/massage parlour frequented by men of all shapes and sizes who she dutifully asks, "Would you like a 'hand shake'?" and almost all of them are willing to pay the additional 1000 bucks for this privilege. But her clients aren't the only ones who exploit Ruth. There are various oily farts in government offices, policemen, bureaucrats and small-time dons, each of whom abuses the power he has over her. 

Then there's her coke snorting (and peddling) boyfriend Prashant (Prashant Prakash) who does her more harm than good, even though he cares for her in his own peculiar way. As does her sole respectable client Diwaker (Naseeruddin Shah) who is actually the father-figure she so longs for. Gulshan Devaiah, playing Prashant's Kannada-speaking gangster boss Chitiappa makes a mean debut (this was the first film he shot, though it's turned out to be his third release). But the energy this character exudes is more a function of the actor's pitch-perfect performance rather than original writing. 

There's some shock value to the screenplay, particularly the ending, but disturbing as it is, it doesn't churn your innards the way his earlier work does. Something vital is amiss despite the brilliant camerawork, broody background music, reliably authentic locations and uniformly good acting. It's both the content and the pacing. Scenes stretch longer than strictly necessary and the protagonist's internal journey drowns in the din of the overwhelming sound design and all the quirky character who flit in and out of her life.

It's Kalki's assured presence that makes TGIYB a better film than it actually is. Can't say she's bettered her Dev D debut (she was brilliant in that film), but she's lived the part (and perhaps there are elements of her personal truth in it too) of this lost girl whose quest for love and acceptance drives her to despair.