A Netflix film review: The underwhelming case of Bulbbul
Spoilers ahead.
I was intrigued when I saw the movie poster flash up at me on my Netflix homepage. A background of a blood moon with a witch-like figure levitating, I was sold - being an avid horror movie fan myself.
Sadly, my screams never exited my throat.
Advertised as a supernatural story set in 1800's Bengal but with a feminist twist, Bulbbul unfortunately became the type of movie that you can predict in a mere ten minutes, into it.
The movie opens by shots of Bulbbul's life as a child bride, who entertains herself by becoming friends with Satya- the younger, more handsome brother of her husband, who's the same age as her. At this point, two storylines are running in parallel: the real life story of Bulbbul, & the myth of a churail, who flies around killing men for some reason. Err, we've heard this story before a million times. Bulbbul's love - which she fails to conceal, continues all the way into adulthood, much to the suspicion of her husband, who decides to take matters into his own hands by- well, you guessed it. Physical violence. And then, he mysteriously dies after some time, believed to be killed by the churail.
She then sits freshly-widowed - yet, oddly, sporting no signs of the typical white garb but expensive silk sarees and gold jhumkas instead, fanning herself with peacock-feathered fans as she coyly flirts with Satya & Dr.Sudip as they come to visit her in her manor in Bengal, and quietly smirking at her widowed sister-in-law Binodini's discomfort. It's a tale of revenge; yet the visuals & score fail to do any justice to the deeper story. The climax i.e. why the churail (guess who it's revealed to be?) goes around murdering men is only revealed 15 minutes before the movie's end - at this point, I am already asleep & watching through one eye open.
Basically, in a nutshell, Bulbbul is a fight against patriarchy by embodying Kali - the Indian goddess of death, and one who is often associated with sexuality & violence - who swoops in to protect poor vulnerable women from the shackles of male entitlement. It's a storyline that Anushka Sharma fails to flesh out, & instead, relies on cinematography to compensate for a highly boring script.
4/10 stars for this Netflix dud.
I was intrigued when I saw the movie poster flash up at me on my Netflix homepage. A background of a blood moon with a witch-like figure levitating, I was sold - being an avid horror movie fan myself.
Sadly, my screams never exited my throat.
Advertised as a supernatural story set in 1800's Bengal but with a feminist twist, Bulbbul unfortunately became the type of movie that you can predict in a mere ten minutes, into it.
The movie opens by shots of Bulbbul's life as a child bride, who entertains herself by becoming friends with Satya- the younger, more handsome brother of her husband, who's the same age as her. At this point, two storylines are running in parallel: the real life story of Bulbbul, & the myth of a churail, who flies around killing men for some reason. Err, we've heard this story before a million times. Bulbbul's love - which she fails to conceal, continues all the way into adulthood, much to the suspicion of her husband, who decides to take matters into his own hands by- well, you guessed it. Physical violence. And then, he mysteriously dies after some time, believed to be killed by the churail.
She then sits freshly-widowed - yet, oddly, sporting no signs of the typical white garb but expensive silk sarees and gold jhumkas instead, fanning herself with peacock-feathered fans as she coyly flirts with Satya & Dr.Sudip as they come to visit her in her manor in Bengal, and quietly smirking at her widowed sister-in-law Binodini's discomfort. It's a tale of revenge; yet the visuals & score fail to do any justice to the deeper story. The climax i.e. why the churail (guess who it's revealed to be?) goes around murdering men is only revealed 15 minutes before the movie's end - at this point, I am already asleep & watching through one eye open.
Basically, in a nutshell, Bulbbul is a fight against patriarchy by embodying Kali - the Indian goddess of death, and one who is often associated with sexuality & violence - who swoops in to protect poor vulnerable women from the shackles of male entitlement. It's a storyline that Anushka Sharma fails to flesh out, & instead, relies on cinematography to compensate for a highly boring script.
4/10 stars for this Netflix dud.
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