Blurr: Taapsee Pannu's film frustratingly wastes its own ideas

In a scene from Zee’s _Blurr_ , Gayatri, played by Taapsee Pannu explains why she thinks her twin sister’s suicide may actually have been something more. “She doesn’t listen to rap, I’m telling you there was someone else with her,” she tells her husband Neel. The film wants to argue that an uncharacteristic playlist, somehow, is supposed to be proof of the presence of a nefarious outsider. It’s just one of the many bizarre arguments made by a film that simply isn’t all that it could have been. For forty-odd minutes of its second half, _Blurr_ is possibly the most inventive Hindi film of the year. The sense of paranoia it creates, is both immersive and nauseatingly breath-taking. The rest of the film, however, is let down by a preoccupation with erecting chalk-deep characters where maybe, the brooding anxiety of the film’s world would have sufficed. A nightmare wakes Gayatri in the middle of the night. Her twin sister she senses, is in danger. She urges Neel, played by the convincing Gulshan Devaiah, to take a trip to the hills to meet her. As is so eerily predicted, her sister is found hanging from the ceiling, in what is a sequence of truly absurd inertness. The film, it seems, doesn’t want to pause to even mourn its dead but instead wishes to steam ahead with the thrill of unloading its bucketlist of ideas. There is no sense of jeopardy, no sense of emotional heft to this transition that could have been done better to utilise the trauma around death as a way to double down on the despair. Gayatri, suspects foul play based on some truly bizarre clues that simply do not add up. She of course chooses to investigate on her own. The first half of _Blurr_ is so confused, muddled and saggy it drags a commendable second half down with it. Gayatri begins to lose her eyesight as she files herself deeper into the mysterious life of her twin sister. Needless personal revelations come to the fore in this film that tries too hard to sell the needless. There is also, a surprising lack of emotional investment in creating moments of tenderness around those who pass on. So elated is this film about its central conceit, its sense of innovation, that it forgets to do the bare basics – write characters that makes us want to care for them. Devaiah is adequate but given little to do. Pannu is as committed as ever, but even her energy is somewhat dimmed by a graceless first half. After Gayatri’s loses her eyesight she spends days in the care of doctors, nurses and anyone she can rely on. This roughly 40-min period of the film is unnerving, and given the ungainly treatment of the rest of the film, feels like a happy accident. Directed by Ajay Bahl, we don’t see faces, but simply hear voices in this leg of the story. Most characters are punctuated by phone calls and oral footprints. It’s a humbling insight into the life of the blind. The paranoia, the choking uncertainty that comes with having your idea of geography be dictated not by sight, but by memory and intuition. It’s chilling, but also unfortunately symbolic of the film Blurr could have instead been. A handful of directorial interventions here feel inspired, but they are undone by the clumsy narrative choices of a first half that continues to gawk at us, hilariously, in the rear-view mirror. So disjointed and out of sync are the two halves of this film, that you could probably start in the middle and leave, largely satisfied with the wickedly, dark thriller that ensues when it is done unloading emotional and familial baggage that it itself isn’t committed to fully. This is a classic case of a terrific idea stunted by overthinking. Melodrama and intimate friction is created with the kind of half-hearted intent of putting in a shift, where a leaner, more direct thriller around the melancholia of blindness would have possibly done the trick. It might have, given how the second part of this film pans out been far more rewarding, not just to watch, but to also make. Blurr isn’t awful, but it is insufferable for the first hour that feels neither sincere nor rooted in any sort of emotional soil. It’s only when the film trusts what is possibly a one-line brief held together by the brass tacks of self-doubt, that it truly soars. For a moment, or at least half an hour, it is discomforting and creepy enough to even warrant a restart. Start from here please, this is the film, you’ll find yourself saying. Ironically, this groundswell of promise, the creators can neither see nor sense despite their proximity. Or maybe, because of it.

Manik Sharma writes on art and culture, cinema, books, and everything in between. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram.