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image source - google | image by - IMDb |
Chaman Bahaar has been written and directed by debutant
director Apurva Dhar Badgaiyann. The film, made in 2018, was meant to be
Jitendra’s feature debut.
main cast -
jitendra kumar as billu
ritika badiani as rinku
alam khan as shiladitya tiwari
ashwani kumar as ashu bhaiya
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image source - google | image by - justwebseries |
story -
The story is set in Lormi, a district in Chhattisgarh. Billu
is a man with determination and dreams. He is a disruptor, who breaks the
family tradition of working in the forest department and sets up a paan shop
called Chaman Bahaar. Sadly, the district limits change and his shop, on the
outskirts of Lormi, has barely any customers. Until a family moves into the
house opposite the street. Their teenage daughter Rinku sets Lormi aflame.
Dozens of young men start driving past, only to have a look at Rinku who
famously wears half-pants. Billu’s shop starts thriving, but he gets more
miserable, because he can’t resist Rinku’s charms either. As a character aptly
puts it: Shah Rukh ka picture dekh dekh ke chocolatey ho gaye hain sab. What
Apurva gets right are these small town textures – you know the atmosphere, the
language, these conversational styles. Everybody, these young men keep calling
each other Daddy. The biggest daddies here are the youth politician Shila, who
chews paan and swaggers even while spitting. And Ashu, the local rich kid. The
District Forest Officer’s son also comes by – his father’s position gives him
the clout to try for Rinku. The other boys understand that they have no chance,
so they start to place bets, on who among these will get the girl. And the
circus is orchestrated by Somu and Chotu, a jugaadu twosome, who effectively
function as Lormi’s Narad Munnis, prodding the action, hustling and doing idhar
ki baat udhar. These characters and their interactions are the most vibrant
part of the film.At one point in Chaman Bahaar, Billu the
paanwala asks a shopkeeper, where greeting cards which say, 'I love you' are
kept. The man looks surprised, like he can’t imagine how this meek wallflower
could even think about love. Who could possibly be the recipient of his
devotion?
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image source - google | image by - thequint |
about the actors and their characters-
The first impression of Billu. He’s painfully ordinary. But
because he’s played with practiced ease by Jitendra Kumar, we immediately care
about him. I think of Jitendra as a saltier, more prickly version of Amol
Palekar. Like the veteran actor, Jitendra is instantly relatable. We can easily
imagine him struggling with his job, relationships, desires. His ability to be
one of us makes him endearing. But Jitendra is also a fine performer who can
locate that delicate balance, between the comedy and tragedy of his character’s
anguish. He’s done this with aplomb in his first film Shubh Mangal Zyada
Saavdhan and more recently in the superb streaming show Panchayat. Even as you
sympathize with his character’s predicament, you’re smiling because his
seething has this sort of in-built comical streak. In Chaman Bahaar, he once
again finds this sweet spot. Sadly, the film doesn’t.
Rinku, played by Ritika Badiani, isn’t so much a
character as an idea. She barely speaks in the film and we know little about her,
apart from the fact that she loves her dog, who she walks outside their home.
When she does this, time stands still for Billu. But neither he, nor any of the
other boys know her and neither do we.
watch trailer -
is it worth watching this movie ?
The plot is too thin and beyond the first hour, the antics
of these hordes of men in pursuit of a young girl start to wear thin. The
situation is also inherently uncomfortable. In one scene, Shila and his gang in
a jeep are chasing Rinku who is on a scooter. He tells the driver to drive
faster, so she is at least aware that she is being chased. Honestly, I couldn’t
find the humor in this. Her school teacher also has a crush on her, which is
just flat out creepy. The film also keeps shifting tonally, from comic vein to
serious and later, satirical. The background score keeps prodding us to laugh –
when a tough cop enters the story, we get Sholay-like sound effects. Which I
think is supposed to be funny. But we go from this to full-blown emotional
drama, which feels out of place. The subtitles are also a little distracting –
does Lafandar really translate into 'town bitch'? I don’t know, but it’s such a
great word, that I think we should all just add it to our vocabulary. You can
see Chaman Bahaar on Netflix.
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