If you have read the Hindu epic Mahabharat, you probably would have heard of a demon called ‘Bakasur’, who devoured men to quench his hunger. Tamil director Mohan G’s latest film, the Selvaraghavan-starrer Bakasuran, uses the mythological character as an allegory to convey a lopsided social message.
As the end credits roll down, the screen splits to show a character describing technology and mobile phones as the ‘real demons’ luring people through ‘dangerous’ social media and dating apps. If you think this is a redundant template, don’t jump the gun yet. Bakasuran contains more such ‘surprises’.
The film begins with two parallel plots that eventually cross paths. On one hand is the vagabond Bheemarasu (Selvaraghavan), looking to make a quick buck. When he is not working, Bheemarasu is killing people involved in prostitution. On the other hand, a retired Army officer Varman (Natty) runs a YouTube channel that analyses criminal cases. For some unexplained reason, he also has unrestricted access to the crime scenes. After Varman’s niece dies by suicide, he ventures on an investigation of his own to unearth a notorious prostitution racket. Bakasuran draws inspiration from the sensational crime news one reads now and then.
Bakasuran aims to bring the darker side of technology to fore, with virtual prostitution being the focal point. However, instead of shedding light on how women get trapped in such rackets, it ends up victimising them.
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A dated, sexist plot
Male characters keep ‘educating’ women on how to behave and not fall prey to technology (read: “dangerous” dating apps). At one point, a character shouts at her daughter when she opens up about a colleague who blackmailed her after recording her conversation with her boyfriend. In another scene, after a young woman confides in her father about being sexually harassed, her grandfather tries to pacify her by saying that she could “easily get an abortion” as “it is quite common.”
In yet another segment, a group of women is shown shooting for a song sequence. A middle-aged man dances next to them as the song is picturised keeping the male gaze in mind—skimpy clothes, reductive lyrics and camera panning at angles to titillate the audience. I wonder if the filmmaker knows that we have arrived in 2023.
Even if you are not specifically well-versed in Tamil cinema, it won’t take long for you to figure out where the story is heading. It is a template borrowed from when women were deployed as objects to satiate details of an over-sexualised plot.
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Selvaraghavan steals the show
If somehow you can get past that, the scenes showcasing Bheemarasu’s backstory are the strength of the 156-minute film. Selvaraghavan, who aces the look of a vigilante killer, shines in the emotional scenes with his family. Natty plays his part well but is merely a cog in the wheel meant to further the narrative.
The music by Sam C.S. blends well with the dramatic action sequences and effective emotional scenes.
Selvaraghavan embodies the spirit of Bheemarasu with equal measures of vulnerability, innocence and ferocity. He is, perhaps, the only reason to endure Mohan G’s off-balance revenge thriller.
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)