Bornoporichoy movie review: Mainak Bhaumik's thriller suffers from an extremely convoluted plot
There is not a single moment in Mainak Bhaumik’s new thriller Bornoporichoy, in which there is no confusion on screen. Confusion – I must haste to add – is not necessarily a bad thing in cinema, especially if it is a mystery film. And if it is a mystery film about a serial killer, then confusion is perhaps a bona fide prerequisite. But what we see if Bhaumik’s film is not just confusion. There is a heavy dose of clutter as well. The result is an extremely convoluted plot that shows no sign of being handled with maturity.
Dhananjoy is a burnt-out but bright police detective who has been in hot pursuit of a serial killer, who has been on a vicious killing spree. The killer’s victims are seemingly random people and there does not seem to be any connection or common factor between any two murders. The case has taken a toll on Dhananjoy, and his wife has left him, along with their son. The murders have stopped and the killer has suddenly disappeared. With the trail turning cold, and with his personal life in shambles, Dhananjoy has taken to drinking. After an inexplicable and mysterious hiatus, the murders resume, forcing Dhananjoy to kick the bottle, pick up the pieces, and join the pursuit of the dangerous killer once again.
All very good. But the film is riddled with innumerable problems in almost all departments. Let us address the writing, to begin with. One of the most irredeemable sins that the writer commits is to throw information about the case at us without explaining where they came from. In the rare instances when the source of a fact is indeed mentioned, it is done in such a haphazard and jarring manner that it almost seems like that the makers were being forced to do so, and that they have complied willy-nilly.
Dhananjoy seems to be cracking the clues a little too quickly for comfort, making his act – serious as it may be in intention – seem rather silly and contrived. The clues themselves come across as crudely manufactured. Tthey simply do not gel well. They are conveniently strewn across the plot. There is nothing natural or organic about the entire affair. One thing almost never leads to another, everything looks very piecemeal. Although the killer’s motivations are described in detail, and to the satisfaction of the audiences, his means are highly questionable. The writer commits a grave error by making us question the sanity of the killer. In a serial killer film, the killer must come across as dangerously ordinary and perfectly sane. This enhances the hopelessness of the situation, resulting in true horror. Both of which were totally absent in Bhaumik’s film. Some of the plot points were so ridiculous that I could not help but burst out in giggles in the middle of what was supposed to be a grim and tense scene.
Then comes the performances. Jisshu Sengupta – who gave a convincing performance in Ek Je Chhilo Raja – literally mumbles his way through the film, so much so that there were times when I had to strain my ears to understand what he was trying to say. I am sure this was not the director’s intended effect, what with the rest of the film being so loud and all. If Sengupta’s low-aperture dialogue delivery was Bhaumik’s attempt at subtlety or characterisation, I am sorry to say – such attempts fell flat, leaving behind a whole lot of confusion and convolution. There are some moments, though, when Sengupta – a fine actor on a sunny day – is capable of expressing his grief, although it is never made quite clear why he entered a phase of depression. Abir Chatterjee, on the other hand, does quite well in reflecting the calm, next-door-neighbour sort of air about the killer. His performance is far from good though. Towards the climax, he turns into a melodramatic whippersnapper, and this makes watching him excruciatingly painful. Moreover – and this is the writer’s fault – he talks a bit too much for a serial killer. It is one thing to be articulate, and a completely different thing to be loquacious. Chatterjee’s character is clearly, and sadly, the latter. And if Priyanka Sarkar would rue the fact that there is nothing being written about her in this review, she should perhaps chosen a more substantial role.
The sound design is terrible. A man burning up in flames sounds like he is complaining about a pebble in his shoe. There is far too much of background score, and it just becomes monotonous after a while. Except for a chase sequence that is quite nicely done, even the cinematography is quite ordinary. And when it comes to the music, I can only hope that we get the old Anupam Roy back – the one who we know so well and admire so much. Because the songs are all utterly forgettable. I would not be able to hum them even if my life depended on it.
I do not think I can call Bornoporcihoy a sheer waste. Simply because there was nothing good in the plot from the very beginning. With such a flimsy storyline, a cluster of clues that were hammered into the story (because they would not fit in the natural order of things otherwise), and performances which were neither supervised nor perfected, this film was a mishap of epic proportions.
Rating: 1.5 stars
Updated Date: Jul 30, 2019 09:52:19 IST