Lakadbaggha

Jean-Marc Selva’s cinematography keeps things intimate and lived-in. The film is shot entirely with a hand-held camera and in real locations, giving an impression of constant movement and uncertainty. The musical score by Simon Fransquet lingers on and grows on you through the film. Written by Alok Sharma, the narrative is slow burn. And that’s where the film falters. I’m game for slow-burn narratives but it feels like the plot has been thinly structured when the pace slackens. The scenes leading up to the romance between Ridhi and Anshuman are weakly written and hence awkwardly performed. Overall, there’s a lot to appreciate and a few things to criticise in Lakadbaggha. Does it make it worth viewing? Of course.

Lakadbaggha gets the tone and the theme right. It’s easy on your head and doesn’t require much of your brainpower to break down what’s unfurling in front of you. It’s worth applauding Victor Mukherjee’s attempt to tell a story with limited characters and a penny-plain approach since stories being made today sometimes fall prey to the misnomer that a movie requires complex elements for it to strike a chord with the audience. Lakadbaggha defies all those notions and delineates a tale that is neither cantankerous nor gaudy. But since it’s too simple, it just couldn’t utilise the copiousness of the potential it had. No matter how fantastic of an idea makers had in their mind, the obvious clichés, predictable plot devices, flawed character traits, ridiculous tropes massively diluted the impact it had set out to achieve(especially towards the climax).