Kuttey has a Nice Bark Sometimes, But it Seldom Bites

Youth, that magical, brief phase of life, is also, often, the most embarrassing one.

Those in-between years, beyond awkward teens but before adulthood, is a time when our angst-driven search for an identity makes us do the weirdest things.

Youth thrives on pretension and that’s why, to resolutely answer the question that stalks us – “Who am I?” – we begin to lean on our idols and try to claim their success and greatness for ourselves. 

In college, I recall, all English honors classes were split into groups – there were those who worshiped at the altar of Shakespeare and would be found channeling Hamlet, Macbeth and an uneasy crown after classes. There were others who wanted to be metaphysical and would declare, in stentorian voices, “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful.” And then there were those who behaved as if they were perennially lying in clammy circuit house rooms and staring at lizards, a la English, August.

But with our first jobs, when reality slapped us hard, all these pretensions vanished. Many of us got lost for a bit, in search of our own voices. 

We remain inspired, but grew out of the shadows of men and women we loved, to have our own aadhe-adhure, but distinct personalities.

Sadly, that’s not the case with boys who want to make films, especially city-bred boys from Bollywood families who have studied abroad and prefer Tarantino to Tinnu Anand.

Aasmaan Bhardwaj, son of Vishal Bhardwaj, has clearly found his inspiration, but not his voice yet.

His debut film, Kuttey, has some stylish scenes, exciting set pieces, a formidable cast and crew, and begins with a lot of promise, only to get lost in bits borrowed from here, there, everywhere.

For his first film, Aasmaan could not have asked for more. He shares writing credits for the film’s story and dialogue with his dad, Vishal Bhardwaj, who has also produced the film. Kuttey stars three of India’s best actors (Naseeruddin Shah, Tabu and Konkona Sen Sharma), and Gulzar saab has written seven of his film’s eight songs. The eighth one, the film’s title track, is Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s “Kutte,” and is sung by his mom, Rekha Bhardwaj. 

But Kuttey, which is quite thrilling in the first half when characters are being introduced, and feels like it’s building up to take us on a joyous, wicked journey, loses steam after the interval, when the plot is supposed to thicken. 

Kuttey, which keeps going dhan-te-naaaan-dhana-dhana, has a meager story that is made up of several gun-toting scenes from Reservoir Dogs, some flat imitations of Bhardwaj’s left-leaning politics and that nonchalant immorality in khaki vardi we’ve encountered often in Sriram Raghavan and Anurag Kashyap’s films. 

All these items sparkle for a bit, but they don’t come together to create compelling characters or an interesting story because the film’s writing – story, plot and characterization – is weak and because beta Bhardwaj hasn’t yet grown out of those long shadows he so loves.  

Kuttey opens on a serious, revolutionary note with Laxmi (Konkona Sen Sharma), a Naxal operative, being subjected to the state’s brutality. Cut to 13 years later in Mumbai where a cop, Paaji (Kumud Mishra), is guarding the door of a hotel room. Inside, his young colleague, Gopal (Arjun Kapoor), is doing what most corrupt cops in Bollywood do in their introductory scene.

Enter Narayan Khobre (Naseeruddin Shah), in ominous silence with a large entourage. Guns are drawn, threats are issued, there’s talk of coke and rivals, and a promise is made to ‘off’ some men from Nairobi and a man called Surti.  

In between all this there are attempts at humor, and we laugh, but the timing is a bit off.

Cops on the take, a bloody shootout, departmental inquiry and suspension lead to Gopal and Paaji seeking the help of senior cop Pammi (Tabu), who introduces them to a man who runs a security company that collects cash from ATMs.

There is a bounce in Kuttey’s step in some parts of the film’s second half, especially the sequence involving a van driver, Pammi and talk of creating a WhatsApp group. But too many characters and tangents, each carrying guns and an agenda, begin to converge and muddy the heist plot. 

Kuttey’s appeal lies in the perverse universe it is set in. In this world, fate is not a passive spectator, but a malevolent, jealous participant who gleefully trips anyone who tries to rise and shine. 

But Kuttey doesn’t quite know how to harness the whims of fate and ends on a demonetized note. It thinks there’s a sting in its tail, but it drags a joke for too long and flatlines.

Arjun Kapoor is the film’s hero and Kuttey gives him a lot of leeway and footage to show us his chops. He has dramatic scenes, nice dialogue because, I guess, he used to be good. Now he is barely adequate. 

In Kuttey, Kapoor sleep-walks, as if his starry presence alone, with a few magazine-cover looks thrown at us, is enough.

His expression throughout the film barely changes from that stock half amused-half-thinking look and he keeps dragging the film down. 

Tabu, on the other hand, is riveting. Whenever she is on the screen, she grabs hold of the film and keeps it together while munching on one bhuna chana after another. There are scenes where she and Kumud Mishra could have done so much more and lifted the film, if only Bhardwaj & Bhardwaj had written a stronger screenplay and added some layers to their characters. Alas!