An alarming display of masculinity hits you as you watch Jayatheertha’s Bullet Basya . An obsession with a depraved man’s sexual prowess is perhaps an obvious feature of most sex comedies but Bullet Basya is just that and nothing more. It follows the template of the genre so faithfully that we recognize the tropes right from the opening scene: a womanizer who looks at women as sex objects, hailed as a hero of his community for precisely this reason and that he is eventually going to be taught a lesson.
Hailing from a family of philanderers, Basya (Sharan) is set to take the legacy of many wives, affairs and unaccountable children forward in the village of Singapura. All we are told about him is that he rides a Royal Enfield Bullet, whose engine revs every time he spots a woman and that his favourite hobby is to identify children he may have fathered. In fact, almost everyone in this village is sexually aroused almost all the time. Basya has a lookalike, Muthu, who is predictably the opposite both in his proclivity for women and his naivete. Muthu is engaged to Kaveri (Haripriya) who Basya has fallen for too. So, the plot’s objective is to resolve this triangle and to mend Basya’s lewd ways.
The film, under the pretext of belonging to the genre of a sex comedy, is so over the top that sitting in the audience, you get the feeling that all your senses are under attack. Loud music, flashy colours and dramatic camera angles only serve to accentuate this assault. To add to this, a string of innuendos and obscene metaphors make the simplest of dialogues dubious and disrespectful to women. Yes, it is perhaps easy to be offended by a sex comedy but Bullet Basya pushes the limits unapologetically.
Cast in a double role, Sharan is a disappointing actor. Haripriya offers a semblance of hope in the film both in terms of her acting abilities and in the character she portrays. Kaveri is brave and even avenges Basya for his manipulation and lecherousness. However her revenge is hardly validated in a film overcast with an obsession with all things masculine. This is especially evident in the disappointing climax where Kaveri’s agency seems like a mere illusion. In fact, by giving up a chance to reverse the stereotypical equation between the hunter and the hunted, Bullet Basya remains as a mere caricature of a regular sex comedy.
The film is guilty of not just weak writing but also a poor cinematic imagination. The songs stand out for their vulgar lyrics, especially ‘C’mon C’mon Boysu’. The periodic ode to Kannada cinema with references to yesteryear actors and contemporaries added to the script barely makes any difference to the film.
