WATCH THE TRAILER HERE
First, the Recap:
To be scoffed at, unduly scrutinized, even summarily judged. This is a state of being no one with a sane mind would ever wish for when it comes to their interactions with others, especially when your own self-imposed notions about yourself may already be tainted. As a man, it can be even more difficult should the circumstances dictate that said scrutiny makes us feel LESSER than HOW we desire to BE seen. For one diminutive-in-stature man named Khushiya (Ankur Wadhve), life is a challenge as it is, trying to be in the position he is as a pimp locating clientele for his angelic, high-profile call girl Sugandhi (Indira Tiwari). However, when a certain visit to her home ushers in an encounter that’s pure adoration for him but treated with a total sense of apathetic disinterest from her, the wounded mindset that arises could push Khushiya to extremes that can only be satisfied one way.
Next, my Mind:
The fragility of the human ego, bearing the weight of literal or perceived maltreatment, desire to just be SEEN, appreciated, and wanted, gaining the respect and notice of someone we covet, and the potential lengths we might go to in order to BE accepted, admired, even loved or otherwise find a possibly less-than-amicable way out of it all gets addressed through this brand new 21-minute short film project from director Raj Pritam More, writer Samir Tabhane, producers Girish Arora and Sangeeta Arora, executive producer Saurbh Verma, plus associate producer Rakesh Arora that enjoyed its WORLD PREMIERE Saturday November 19th at the inaugural 2022 Long Island South Asian Film Festival hosted by Jingo Media’s Jitin Hingorani, actor Harbinder Singh, and festival artistic director Ambica Dev. Based on an existing story by famed Indo-Pakistani writer/playwright/author Saadat Hasan Manto, it is a decidedly potent effort that speaks so deeply to the delicate, logical, yet still often unbalanced nature of the male self-image.
As initially stated above, this concept gets purposefully fleshed out to just the right degrees of both being wholly justifiable in feeling but potentially and drastically damaging in action when it is depicted through a narrative that sees a Lilliput-sized man acting as a pimp for a high-price call girl facing the self-esteem crushing instances that make him realize his frustratingly permanent place in the scheme of business despite his efforts to alter the situation. From the point of contention when the instigating occurrence comes about to all that transpires in its wake, the film does a fantastic job of throwing us into a thematically twisting journey highlighting the heavy fluctuations of an exceedingly wide scope of emotional volatility, the urge to amends one’s image, the intention to right a personally directed wrong, wanting to be someone else in order to appear “worthy”, manipulation, and for that matter, just wishing to be on the other side of things instead of always being, well, as the film’s title aptly advises, the middleman.
This critic, as a man, firmly believes the accessibility and relatability of this short film will assuredly resonate with men, as I also feel safe in stating we’ve ALL been in those situations where our entire sense of what it is to BE a man has been handed back to us unceremoniously in some form, whether by another person or specific moments where we’ve ended up feeling overtly diminished in our masculinity. BUT, I must also say that it’s a conditional/situational experience which at times could very as easily have been brought on by our OWN, deliberately or not, attitudes and choices as opposed to events that we did not remotely see coming much less expect. This narrative is a stroke of genius to me in that I felt it offers exploration of BOTH scenarios in SOME fashion, and then moves forward accordingly with a definitive path towards a well-executed, smartly conceived finale that leaves us at a major point of intense conjecture, leaving you truly wondering what will unfold for the story after the screen goes black. THAT is the beauty of it for me!
Wadhve is a force here and it represents the first time seeing the actor’s work on screen–color me impressed! He overcomes his literal smaller size with an undeniably large, particular quality and style of performance I get to witness quite often thanks to independent cinema–designedly understated then forthrightly intense without sinking into melodramatic acting through his role as Khushiya, a pimp to a higher end call girl who garners her the clientele who can afford the services she provides. However, when he chooses to drop in at her place one day and catches her in a certain state, it triggers a series of moments that have unnerving and pride injuring ramifications attached to them, sending him on a journey of what he feels is necessary self-improvement but with deeper aims in mind in doing so. It’s his full-out identity as a man that falls into question for him, and how Khushiya handles this will turn either constructive or irreversibly detrimental to his life and image. Wadhve navigates the character through this with total excellence.
Likewise, the ethereally beautiful Tiwari more than makes her presence known here with a magnitude of endearing charm, sassy confidence, and I am guessing totally relished, perfectly intentional calculating flair through her portrayal of Khushiya’s expensive responsibility Sugandhi, a girl he’s brought up from the South to cater to his more affluent customers who can afford her. The issues begin, however, when Khushiya comes visiting to her place one day and finds himself on the receiving end of her utterly dismissive, playfully but hurtfully teasing manner that leaves him cold and broken as a man while she is able to just continue on without a second thought. Even when she ultimately realizes one night that he’s made an attempt to actually BE someone, she still finds the means to throw it in his face, again not taking into ANY consideration how it all has made him feel. It’s a superb and astutely credible performance in that you both sympathize with her as, most likely, being objectified by him yet also find yourself disliking her blasé treatment of him.
The primary supporting appearance here is made early on by Kailash Waghmare as a random man who spots Khushiya on the street side and asks a local vendor about him. So, in total, “Bichauliya (Middleman)” proficiently and with compelling intent plumbs the depths of man’s ego with an acutely accurate and unflinching fervor that places a clear and relevant message out about what it is to BE a man, how we see ourselves, and having to acknowledge, even if hesitantly or in the midst of having been bruised in heart and mind that, sometimes, we really ARE destined to just be an in-between and so need to find peace with this, discern when we’re the ones to blame perhaps, or at least seek out a means to handle it in a more beneficially self-deprecating way.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!
