Badhaai Do Movie Review — Sucharita Tyagi
Two movies in one week were powerful enough to draw out tears from within my dark dead soul.
One I expected, the other caught me entirely by surprise.
Today, let’s talk about Badhaai Do.
Shardul is a cop in Dehradun who’s grown up secretly gay in a casteist, Islamophobic family run by a matriarch who’s as sexist as they come. Their family chat group is called ‘Thakur Rocks’, kyunki just by virtue of birth they consider themselves better than most. Shardul too has grown up with this conditioning, but his repressed sexuality and the toll that it takes on his mental well-being is coming to a head.
Suman is a closeted gay woman in the same town who has also evaded her family’s constant demands and expectations. Shaadi karo, settle ho jaao etc. More put together than Shardul, in her defiance she’s reached a point where while still scared of people finding out her secret, she’s self-assured enough to be borderline disrespectful towards folks who don’t really mean anything to her life.
Through a very cleverly written catfishing plot point, Shardul finds out about Suman being gay, opens up to her, and suggests they marry each other, which she readily agrees to.
Aage, as you would expect, all the various yarns they must spin to keep this gigantic secret under wraps, makes the rest of the film.
Director Harshvardhan Kulkarni and co-writers Suman Adhikary, Akshat Ghildial are truly the stars of this film, which many of us watched nervously. Bollywood ka track record zyada accha raha nahi hai while dealing with LGBTQIA+ issues, and also ANOTHER small-town film ft. actors who’ve done many small-town films before. But I do believe I can safely say that it’s a solid, honest, successful attempt at generating positive, inclusive, and respectful conversations for the right cause.
Shardul isn’t just concerned his family is homophobic, in the back of his mind he’s aware of various other ways they’re bigoted as well, and the battles he must pick, and in which order. Uski khud ki conditioning he begins to question when he actually spends time with a woman for the first time and realizes despite being a gay man, he’s still a man who gets to walk the world different than a woman does, regardless of sexuality.
He’s a simple-minded dude who is not at that point where he’s aware enough to question and fight his immediate society because all his energy is either devoted to his work or keeping his secret under wraps. He’s happy with the little pockets of selfish joy he generates, going away to Goa to meet his boyfriend, or finally being able to rent an apartment away from the city. Shardul follows most family rules not because they’re correct, but because that’s all he’s ever been exposed to and yet, even within this powerful clan and his powerful profession, he’s always like an alert cat with its tail up in the air, precarious perched, extremely ready for disaster to strike any moment.
Rajkummar Rao brings everything he has to this part, such a great reminder of what he’s capable of doing as an actor. Newly minted muscles and mooch aside, Raj captures the emotional core of the film in a way only an actor completely in sync with the material can. Every inch of his body belongs to the very specific milieu Shardul is trapped in, despite being a police officer.
Bhoomi Pednekar as Suman is also dealing with a less than compassionate mother while trying to live a meaningful life, one day at a time. Even though Shardul comes up with the solution to their big problem, it’s her who teaches him to do implement new rules in a new life, which he’s now promised to share with another. Along with a no-nonsense attitude, she carries a deeply empathetic heart of a woman who is willing to compromise as long as it doesn’t fundamentally oppose her ideals. She doesn’t want to fight any legal battles for her rights, the most she dreams of doing is moving to a different country to be able to adopt a child.
My favorite scene takes place at a hotel in Goa, Shardul and Sumi are on their ‘honeymoon’. Shardul’s drunk because a boy he’d been waiting for has ghosted him, and Sumi is trying to take a selfie to send back to the family, to keep up the sham.
She eventually gives up and they start chatting, his inhibitions are down, so he takes his shirt off to show her his body, bodybuilding is a passion of his. Sumi’s first instinct is fear, but it’s momentary and is soon replaced by sympathy, her heart breaks for this fake husband of hers who probably has preened over a mirror many times, hoping to come out as his true self.
In the end, while talking about his fav action movies, he calls himself a “Homo Cop” and passes out on the floor, and I nearly cried watching these two actors perform with the empathy they do.
The screenplay does go around in circles for quite a bit though, and would have benefitted from a shorter run-time.
But when the pacing is found, it’s thoroughly engaging. Chum Darang is amazing as Sumi’s love interest Rhimjhim, who like her name enters her life like cleansing, calming, soothing rain, despite having met for the first time over Sumi’s father stool sample at the diagnostic lab where Rhimjhim works, as if to say, “I will help you get out of this shit”.
She is a well-rounded character with a back story, a professional, empowered, able, flawed, as opposed to a “lesbian girl who is cool”. Watch out for a love song between the two, “Hum they seedhe saadhe magar”, written by Varun Grover (who I think I spotted walking in a pride parade in the film), sung by Shasha Tirupathi and composed by master craftsman Amit Trivedi.
Also, watch out for Sheeba Chaddha and her truly heartbreaking portrayal of a widowed mother who wants to understand her son but can only help so much with her limited understanding. Her failure to comprehend what’s going on around her is viewed with kindness, with the softness which is at the heart of this film.
Also, a delightful Gulshan Devaiah cameo left me feeling super happy, what a stunning performer he is. A lawyer who enters Shardul’s life, again not to fight his legal battles and change the system from within, but just as a person who likes another, that’s all.
Badhaai Do touches on a lot, thankfully without actively trying to tackle/solve it all. Gaslit women are unaware of how fucked their own lives are, inadvertently passing down generational trauma, encouraging heteronormativity in young children, ridiculous gender norms.
The straight pride flag which rightfully caused an uproar has been edited out, and thankfully the film doesn’t end with everyone suddenly having an altered personality and falling in love with each other.
Shardul puts on a bright shiny mask, but still stands on the edges of the ongoing pride parade, doing his job, maintaining law and order, the one thing he’s confident he knows how to do, the rest he’s learning.
