Rahul Desai
It says something about the modern relationship between the state of art and the art of state that Bheed will firstly be known as a ‘brave’ film. Its identity will always be linked to its courage. Bheed, meaning “crowd”, tells a story shaped by the chaos of the 2020 migrant exodus.
For starters, the narrative scale is tactful. It goes for a single situation rather than a broad and sprawling sweep of time. Much of the film unfolds over the course of an afternoon at a check post between two unnamed states. As a result, there’s a real-time urgency to the film.
One might argue that the staging is self-conscious. For instance, an empty mall in the middle of nowhere looks too planted. The mall will naturally play a role in the face-off between the hungry migrants and the police; it will prompt lyrical ramblings about “aukaat” and boundaries.
Yet there’s a lot to like about Bheed. Its politics are more suggestive than aggressive, evident in how the virus is as inconspicuous as the government. One is sensed, the other is feared.
Surya as a character doesn’t always work – particularly in the physical final act – but Rao’s acting gives the film an emotional fulcrum. Some scenes insist on telling instead of showing, literally spelling out the composition of frames. Fortunately, the rhythm doesn’t allow the viewer to dwell on these issues.