Over the last few years, YouTube has become a haven for young, talented, and independent Assamese filmmakers to not only showcase their talents through short films and web series but also tell our stories while pushing the boundaries of technical excellence and cinematic presentation to such an extent that audiences accustomed to top-notch content from around the world take notice and at least begin drawing parallels with multi-crore productions that have far better resources and reach at their disposal.
This has not only elevated the quality of storytelling in the state but has also paved the way for these young directors to smoothly transition into the big league of feature filmmakers in the future.
One such talent is Rock Nobis, who has, over the years, made several short films that have grabbed attention. Darling Dacoit was an interesting idea that was executed just as well. Very recently, he made Purple in Hindi, which combined two pervasive social evils into a single narrative thread, offering an interesting and refreshing way to approach these issues as a cautionary tale, even though the ideas themselves have been explored in previous films and series.
Now he has made Bhakta, a film that talks about obsessive love (something that is currently in vogue), unrequited love (something that will never go out of focus), and childhood trauma (something that has the power to shape lives and yet somehow is not given the importance it deserves in our state). Bhakta follows Fagun (Nobis), a simple village lad who is madly in love with Meghna (Aarushi Baruah), his best friend and someone he has grown up with. When Fagun professes his love for her, Meghna retreats into a shell, and Fagun is unable to accept the rejection or understand why she cannot love him the way he loves her.
This bizarre phenomenon of a woman being such an integral part of your life, almost as if there is no one else in the world, and yet not being able to love you romantically is something that has become progressively more common, and it has destroyed many lives. Why this happens is a question that has never truly been answered, and Rock Nobis very wisely keeps the answer just ambiguous enough to make it feel authentic to people who have been on the receiving end of such heartbreak.
However, he does make it a point to raise this pertinent question through a dialogue exchange that turns out to be one of the film’s most heartbreaking sequences.
Through his performance, Nobis also effectively portrays the difficulty of baring his heart to his best friend, the frustration of being denied what he believes is rightfully his, and the horrifying rage that consumes him as he finds neither closure nor logic in the answers Meghna gives him about why they cannot be together.
Rock Nobis smartly designs Fagun’s resulting actions based on his crooked worldview and what he has grown up witnessing. In doing so, he successfully ties the character into another massive socio-cultural evil plaguing Indian society that has never been discussed or debated enough. Parenting demands sacrifices.
When we are under the innocent but incessantly watchful eyes of our children, we must learn to shun our violent and antisocial impulses, as these impulses, if repeatedly displayed in front of our children, tend to scar them for life and, in many ways, shape their worldview. Whether they grow up embracing these destructive behaviours or rejecting them completely depends on each child’s individual way of processing tragedy, trauma, and grief.
For Fagun, it becomes a means of justifying something that he is horrified to have committed, and when one looks closely, that conflict is visible in his expressions and through Nobis’ mannerisms. I felt that this was another disarming quality of the movie. To have been able to achieve such depth in characterisation within a runtime of just 20 minutes is no easy feat, but Nobis accomplishes it with authority while infusing the character with heartbreaking tragedy.
Due credit must also be given to Aarushi Baruah for being the other end of the drama. Without her ability to frustrate both Fagun and the audience, who identify with him up until that point, the emotional conflict and the resulting tragedy would never have been as effective.
I have loved Ashutosh Kashyap’s cinematography in most of his projects, and he once again proves why he is one of the most exciting talents to come out of Assam when it comes to cinematography. One of his fortes is aerial photography, and he knows how to use it smartly and sparingly in his projects. He does the same here, and it works in the film’s favour.
I loved the overall look and feel of the film, and the cinematography places you right in the middle of the environment the characters inhabit, making you feel as though you have the best vantage point from which to witness a story unfolding right before your eyes.
The way Kashyap uses close-ups to give us a window into the psyche of the characters and then pulls back to a wide shot to document a violent moment, as if the audience is hiding behind a safe refuge and watching the horrific events unfold, is a smart creative choice. It not only highlights Kashyap’s artistic instincts but also reflects the assured direction of a young filmmaker. I also loved the use of bright colours, which justify the beauty and vibrancy of my state even while telling a story that is, at its core, a tragedy.
The film has its share of shortcomings too. I felt that the dialogues could have been written better to evoke stronger emotions while also feeling more organic and impactful. I also felt that there were moments in the screenplay that could have been more logical. The sound design could have been better as well, which would have further elevated the film’s drama. In some places, the emotional impact feels a bit artificial, not so much because of the performances or the writing but because of the technical execution.
Having said that, none of these issues ever become pronounced enough to take the audience completely out of the experience, and hence they can be overlooked. What ultimately stands out most is a dedicated, inspired, and creative filmmaker’s vision of exploring different socio-cultural evils through a common thread of storytelling that is intriguing, if not necessarily entertaining in a conventional commercial sense.
Bhakta is yet another reminder that some of the most exciting cinematic voices in Assam are emerging from the independent filmmaking space. Rock Nobis may still have areas to refine as a writer and filmmaker, but the honesty of his storytelling, the ambition of his ideas, and the confidence with which he translates them to the screen make him a talent worth following closely.
If this is the level of craft he is displaying in a 20-minute short film, one can only imagine what he will be capable of when he eventually ventures into feature filmmaking. Bhakta is a moving and thought-provoking short that deserves to be watched and discussed.