Bandar
Introduction
The title of the new Hindi film Bandar has a layered metaphor of its own. While the film is initially clear on emphasizing on how all of us are monkeys caged in our own lives, the deeper metaphor stands for evolution. And this exact evolution is what you take away in hindsight, particularly with respect to the arc provided to its protagonist Samar (Bobby Deol). When you are first introduced to him, you see him playing at a function that is symbolic of his fading stardom. In another world, he would probably have been Rahul Jayakar from Aashiqui 2 (2013). But the interesting bit remains in the subtext – the song that he plays goes on the lines of ‘Come On Baby’, a casual form of sexism. In another scene, you see him zooming into a image of a girl, even while casually hiding it from his girlfriend Khushi (Saba Azad). So to start with, there are two personalities on show with regards to the protagonist – he is a 50 year old who is still seeking fame whilst casually declining well-paid television assignments. And the other, that of a man-child who is filled with casual sexism even in his relationships – when he firmly asks Khushi on whom she is roaming with. In that sense, there is an arc to be discovered in terms of the evolution of the character – from a ‘Man’ to a ‘Bandar’ in hindsight.
Story & Screenplay
Written by Sudip Sharma and Abhishek Banerjee, Bandar has a very sensitive issue in hand, something that remains a firm counter of patriarchy when in crisis. My mind immediately wanders to a famous male starlet who was accused by his househelp of r*pe, only for his career to sink in doldrums. Or in another recent instance, where another female starlet admitted to a false accusation on her producer. But what I was interested in, was the balance in the narrative – the same that wouldn’t tilt in any favour. And most of the ‘balance’ was incorporated in the form of the characterization of the protagonist who did stay in a high-rise building in moderate isolation, but couldn’t fully sustain his finances while continuing to harbour the flaws of a man-child despite being way past that age.
The politics in an Anurag Kashyap film is often with respect to its setting, often presenting the most serious issues in the form of a black comedy. So if you had the bank robbery at the start of Nishaanchi (2025) that was symbolic of the crumbling situation of law and order, or a casual interaction between the characters in Kennedy (2023) about the folks ruling Mumbai, that was potentially a dig at the owner of the then title sponsors of MAMI – the politics in play here is with regards to the law and order.
In a scene when two cops arrive at Samar’s place to arrest him on the implications of murder, there remains an exchange on a language barrier that promptly forms the fleeting basis of an argument. Samar doesn’t understand Marathi despite living in the city of Mumbai for years, and the pressure on him is palpable when the cops tell him to sign an agreement, something that he keeps refusing one. And that one particular police station sequence took me back to Ugly (2015), even as you witness a cop narrating a copy of the ‘s*xting’ exchange between Samar and the victim Gayatri (Sapna Pabbi). The humour is injected in the moment even as the mood remains grim.
This largely remains a character-driven plot which basically means that the onus is on the protagonist. Hence the metaphor for a ‘monkey in the cage’ keeps getting deeper by the minute – be it him breaking down while interacting with his lawyer (Riddhi Sen) and his sister Suhani (Sanya Malhotra). There are scenes wherein you see him breakdown, thereby igniting a sense of empathy in an individual that has essentially been fractured by the event. This, also extends to his fractured equation with his girlfriend, who is shaken too. Or his erstwhile dynamic with Gayatri – wherein every relationship represents a cage, as much as the cell of Samar.
But what it also does is blur the lines of loyalty between the protagonist and the viewers – often leaving the latter in a dilemma on where the loyalties lie. And this isn’t just because the truth is binary – and that Gayatri is simply framing him. The veins run deeper inside a cage that has defined the personality of the protagonist for you – and the more you dwell in the dynamic between Samar amd Gayatri, the more you realise that the issue was two-fold. Yes, Gayatri wasn’t right, but was Samar right in ignoring her too? I wouldn’t lie, there were shades of the recent English film Obsession too – further indicating on how the main antagonist of the drama may well have been a male to begin with.
The setting in the second hour felt like an exact representation of a cage, with many monkeys (read: under trials) being kept in. In fact, there remains a passing reference of cockroaches too, wriggling creatures who are subjected to the harshest environments, only for them to adapt and thrive. And in many ways, I was reminded of the Hindi show Black Warrant – with the representation of claustrophobia in cells, from dirty toilets to watery food, from the potentially thriving gangs to the actual fist-fights, and the thriving nature of politics inside the prison. The subtext of the under-trials remains that of guilty until proven innocent, a direct take on the justice system that alternately thrives on the crumbling philosophy of ‘Justice Delayed But Justice (Not) Denied’.
It remains pretty grim and intense, but also signals the formation of an arc – of the protagonist going from a man-child to being ‘one-of-them’. This while the loop of the justice system would continue, given how the system is deliberately designed to be exactly that. And so, the setting, the people and the crumbling justice system – collectively shape the demeanor of the protagonist. But ironically, the arc of evolution remains the opposite – from man to a monkey, or specifically a monkey in a cage.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues have subtle bouts of dark humour that are now a trademark for an Anurag Kashyap film. This, even as the grim shades of the drama are ably represented through the lines that remain raw and unfiltered. The music goes perfectly in sync with the underlying themes of the drama, or with respect to the characterization of the protagonist. The BGM also works well with the mood of the drama – balancing the underlying themes of tension with disoriented sounds of chaos. The blend works perfectly in the context of the drama, that traverses and incorporates sounds of silence in the narrative too.
The cinematography comprises of frames that are raw and unfiltered, while focusing on the claustrophobic and grim surroundings of a prison that offer a sharp contrast from the spacious apartment of the protagonist at the start. And much of the tension and uncertainty arises from the frames in the second hour that are unflinching and unadulterated in many ways.
The editing pattern by Aarti Bajaj is visceral in many ways – often including sharp cut-aways that offer a contrasting picture to the proceedings, while emphasizing on the varying psychological levels of the protagonist through unwavering and unbroken takes. The emotional trauma forms a connecting thread here, while also using fast-paced montages for specific portions of the media trials. It remains a masterclass in incorporating a lot of aspects of the drama in a short span of time.
Director Anurag Kashyap (co-directed by Sakshi Mehta; something that explains the female gaze in a few portions too) masterfully opts for a character-driven plot, while laying the emphasis on his 50 year old protagonist, and taking him on an odd coming of age story. He opts for quite a raw imagery that allows the drama to be relentless, even whilst balancing the proceedings with subtle bouts of his trademark humour. This, while also maintaining a firm grip on the proceedings, and the balancing the subtext of an issue that is sensitive and relevant with respect to both genders.
Performances
The performances are wonderful to witness by the members of the cast. Agu Stanley Chiedozie, Natesh Hegde and Durgesh Kumar have passing moments but each one of them wonderfully feels a part of the world. Ghanshyam Garg as Samar’s helper remains wonderfully understated, while deftly being a representative of an ongoing class divide in the protagonist’s household. Ankush Gedam (you may remember him from Jhund (2022)) and Raj B Shetty are incredibly good, while adding a strong flavour to the surroundings (read: the prison), where the protagonist finds himself in. Vaishnavi RP has an understated presence, and she conveys a lot through her expressions while staying earnest through and through.
Nagesh Bhosle and Jaimini Pathak are sincere and flawlessly find humour through their dynamics and their exchanges. Jitendra Joshi is absolutely brilliant to witness, particularly in that one police station sequence wherein a lot of it felt improvised while keeping the humour quotient in check. And here was an actor at the top of his game!
Sukant Goel is sincere and earnest while possessing a flawed but empathetic gaze with a lot of restraint. In the same breath, Indrajith Sukumaran as Lijo presents a slightly more fiery picture, with a little more authority and command. And in many ways, both these characters felt like the different stages of the protagonist in future – even as his destiny lay between these two characters in the present.
Riddhi Sen as Nitin and Sanya Malhotra as Suhani have a strong influence on the emotional core of the drama. Both of them remain in a setting of uncertainty, while forming traits of helplessness along the way – something that wonderfully reflects in their performances. The levels of frustration keep rising with respect to these characters, and both of them portray it brilliantly. Saba Azad as Khushi is natural to the core, playing with her expressions perfectly while silently harbouring a sense of angst and uncertainty within her.
Sapna Pabbi as Gayatri delivers a chilling performance that almost seemed like an extension of the ‘GOAT-ed’ act by Inde Navarette in Obsession (2026). There is a calming and soothing demeanor to her performance that is filled with grace, until bouts of eccentricity creep it – something that reflects in her smile or expressions, even before she has her first meltdown. She delivers probably one of the finest and most haunting performances of the year!
But it is Bobby Deol as Samar who absolutely hits the nail on the head. His portrayal of a 50 year old man child isn’t influenced by the charming and playful antics that we are generally witness too. There is restraint even in his immaturity, while slowly amping up the emotional core of his character. He also has an interesting arc to play with – almost not willing to communicate with his ex to writing letters to his girlfriend from prison, a sign that the situation amd surroundings have had an impact on his maturity. Also, he brings such palpable emotions to the table that are heartfelt, but not enough to fully shift your loyalties towards him. The ambiguity is deliberately incorporated in his act, making it an excellent performance through and through.
Conclusion
Featuring strong performances, Bandar is an unsettling and unflinching drama that makes for a brilliantly disturbing watch. The psychological layers in this film run incredibly deep, anchored by characters that are beautifully flawed and devastatingly real, something that makes the drama intriguing and absorbing. Available in a theatre near you and Highly Recommended!