Watched twice, caught once
All those who watch a movie once and assume that they got it must be oh-so-proud of deceiving themselves. There is no way we can immediately process something that took months — and in some cases, years — to create. Our brain can absorb certain elements, yes, but not everything. It takes repeated stabs to get to the bone. The same principle applies to many other vessels of art: books too; sometimes, we have to read cover-to-cover more than once to get what the writer is really trying to convey. Time becomes an instrument here, and not just a factor. Even in sports, a similar law applies. To understand Messi’s on-field magic, we’ll have to slow down the video and see what the little genius does with the allotted space between his legs and the football.
Similarly, sponging almost everything a brilliant movie has to offer takes time too. Exactly what I learned from watching Gully Boy (2019) for the second time last night. There were several instances that I didn’t notice the first time.
- There is a strong possibility of Salman (Murad’s friend and prospective groom for Safeena) being a closet gay. It’s mildly hinted when the group gathers inside the train and he is called ‘mitthey’, a Mumbaiya slang for an effeminate man although his character belies stereotype for the most part.
- Murad’s stepmother has a thing for Murad. Besides, she is obviously closer to his age than his father’s. This twist thickens the already messed-up equations under the roof. Which is also why his mother is more concerned about what she whispered to Murad right after his father slapped him twice. Priorities.
- After taking lessons from MC Sher on how to look for weaknesses in people, Murad scans his colleague (with the projector explaining AC system in office) looking for weaknesses in him.
- As rightly highlighted by Vivek, for a change, a movie based in Mumbai doesn’t show the sea AT ALL. Maybe it’s a nod to the fact that those who live in the slums can’t afford to have a romantic image of the city.
- Sky (Kalki) doesn’t say “money doesn’t matter” as a recent viral tweet suggested. She said “follow your passion, money will follow you” — something on the line of what Rancho (Aamir Khan) used to say in 3 Idiots (2009).
- None of the rap songs feature any expletive. All are absolutely clean; a respite from the usual hip hop culture. During rap battles, the words are downright insulting but never derogatory.
- Murad utters an English word (in conversation) for the first time — “There?” — during the finals event, before his friends warmly mock him.
- Interesting to see how there is an underhand normalization of marijuana throughout the movie.
- In the final scene, Murad’s father (Vijay Raaz) finds it hard to look up at his son (after what he’d told him about “keeping one’s head down” in life) on the stage but when he finally does, his eyes well up.
- Ek Hi Raasta poem, penned by Javed Akhtar, and aesthetically shot inside a Mumbai local train with Murad and other people lost in their mundane thoughts doesn’t take a dig at those with regular 9-to-5 jobs but specifically highlights cases where a talented person chooses a ‘comfortable’ life instead of pursuing their creative/artistic call.
- All the songs have a resonance in the storyline. For instance, this one has a line “humne bhi wafa ki hai, humne bhi daga ki hai” — “I’ve loved as well as I’ve cheated”— highlighting Murad’s infidelity.
- The club that shoos him away ultimately welcomes him in with open arms in the end.
- In the final scenes with the soulful Train song being played, you get a feeling that Murad has already made it but in reality, he hasn’t. His journey has only started and the hologram work on the stage, depicting Mumbai chawl, make you realize that he will remain rooted. In other words, he will always be a Gully Boy. Not many make it after winning a high-octane competition — when was the last time you heard an Abhijeet Sawant song? — but Murad might prove the naysayers wrong. And that is the beauty of his journey.
