Films like Gully Boy show that if you apply specificity and a compelling perspective to an otherwise formulaic story, you can still harness the power of that formula to create an effect with the audience as if it’s their first time seeing it. That’s precisely what director, Zoya Akhtar, and her co-writer, Reema Kagti, have pulled off in their new collaboration, which is inspired by the lives of Indian rappers, Divine and Naezy.
On the surface, you could say Gully Boy is just another underdog story. After all, it is about how a young man, Murad Sheikh (Ranveer Singh), hones in his passion for rapping while facing various obstacles rooted in his impoverished upbringing. However, what makes Gully Boy feel not only like an exceptional take on a familiar formula, but a damn revolutionary one is how the filmmakers fill in the details around the structure.
Akhtar paints a distinctly grounded portrait of life in Dharavi, which is the area of Mumbai taken up completely by slums. It presents the struggles of Murad and his Muslim household in a very matter-of-fact way, making sure not to glorify or fetishize life in poverty, which can be easy, especially for a story that is about trying to rise out of that life. The film isn’t just satisfied in showcasing a hard knock life, it actually expands into various other motifs that dig into the overall exploration of socio-economic divide.
For one, Murad’s father, Aftab (Vijay Raaz), brings in a second wife into the tiny home early in the film, and we get to see how it affects the family dynamic, especially in terms of how it makes his mother, Razia (Amruta Subhash) feels. This moment also sparks furthers the conflict between Murad and his father, who – as you probably assumed – does not approve of Murad’s desire for rapping, as he constantly tells him that they are not made for that kind of life, that society will not offer him the kind of opportunities to reach that dream, and that it’s best to abandon it in the hopes his son can get a halfway decent job.
But outside of Murad’s family, the film takes the time to explore the lives of others, and how their position in life is still informed by boundaries set by society. Alia Bhatt plays Safeena Ali, who has known Murad since they were young, and are currently having a secret love affair. The problem is that she is from an upper middle class family, who would likely not approve their relationship, so they have to meet in secret. Despite their overall position in the world, Safeena is still bound by a patriarchal society that seeks to restrict her from doing things the way she wants to. All that frustration results in these violent outbursts, mostly when anyone even so much as thinks of flirting with her man, the one thing that is keeping her going in life. Under less delicate hands, the character could easily be unlikable, but the filmmakers and Bhatt, as a performer, bring so much empathy to her situation, and uses her as a way to point out how society continues to enforce regressive gender roles.
Through the supporting characters the film explores a variety of societal ills. One moment has a character applying graffiti to a fairness cream ad at a bus stop which reads “Brown & Beautiful.” At one point, Murad’s new mentor/friend, MC Sher (Siddhant Chaturvedi), begins rapping on stage blasting these two men who harassed a female singer off-stage a few minutes prior. Early in the film, there’s a rather infuriating sequence where we see a guide doing a tour through the slums with a group of white tourists. They enter Murad’s home at one point, obnoxiously taking pictures. One guy with a t-shirt with Nas’ face underestimates Murad’s knowledge of hip-hop, only to have several lines thrown his way, which was deeply satisfying to see.
The film has so much on its mind, and it uses every moment to punctuate Murad’s journey with these little asides that add greater meaning and depth to the story. Though, it likely wouldn’t have come together nearly as well had the performances weren’t up to snuff. Thankfully, everyone is fantastic. Ranveer Singh has been one of the most magnetic Indian movie since his big break in 2010, and he does a brilliant job here. There’s such a fire inside him, and you’re just waiting in anticipation for him explode. You get so invested in his story that when he finally gets to the stage with the song, “Apna Time Aayega,” which translates to “My Time Will Come,” it will take every ounce of self-control to not jump out of your seat in joy.
Everyone else is great too. Bhatt, as I’ve mentioned, does a wonderful job with a complicated character. Chaturvedi is super charming as the rapper who takes Murad under his wing. Kalki Koechlin brings an interesting dynamic to the core cast as Sky, an Indian student studying music in Boston. Raaz is great as Murad’s father; being able to be threatening, but not at the expense of his character’s humanity. Subhash also gets moments to shine. There’s plenty more I could go on about, but the point is, there isn’t a weak link in the entire cast.
While Gully Boy’s two-and-a-half hour runtime might seem intimidating, it’s a film that is so effortlessly engaging, and moves with so much momentum, that I barely felt its length. Of course, Ranveer Singh is just a delightful screen presence, but he also handles the rapping like a pro. It’s beautifully directed, capturing both the grit of the slums and the gloss of the affluent venues that our characters navigate. The writing is full of nuance, intricately layered theming, and a love for its characters. It’s a masterful film, and not simply because it puts a cool, modern spin on a reliable formula. It’s a film that feels like an act of defiance, it’s a rebellious film, it’s a big middle finger to the way society tries to tie young people down with old, regressive standards and prejudices. There’s a righteous fury to every moment, and it wants you to sit down, shut up, and hear what it has to say before it finally drops the mic.