Bala - Movie Review

“Toh bhaiya aisa hai ki hum poori duniya ki sar par chadhkar baitheh hai. Chhote-bade harr aaine mein, hum hi toh rehte hai. Hum hi hai jo najro ko lubhaate hai, aapke selfie k liye Likes hum hi toh leke aate hai. …Hum aapki khoobsurti ka raaj hai, aapke sar k permanent taaj hai. Humara status koi Bajrang Bali se kam nahi hai – dekhiye tel unhe bhi chadaya jaata hai, aur tel humein bhi chadaya jaata hai. Hum baal hai. Sabse bada bhaukaal hai, khopdi ki khaal hai, bheje ki dhaal hai, agar mil gayein toh kamala hai, aur nahi milein toh jindagi bhar ka malaal hai.” With a soliloquy for the ages, deftly delivered by the inimitable Vijay Raaz’s off-screen voice, Amar Kaushik sets the tone for this social problem comedy movie Bala. What catches the viewers’ attention first up, is the wonderful medley of pictures that accompany this opening stanza – from everyday tea-stalls to roadside Romeos, it captures the common man and his ubiquitous hair. Or lack thereof. After all, what better way to kick off a movie about male pattern baldness and premature balding than letting your hair have its say?

Ayushmann Khurrana as Balmukund ‘Bala’ Shukla is brilliant in his portrayal of the average Kanpuriya who struggles with declining confidence and societal pressure as his once flowing hair starts to vacate his scalp rather prematurely. And while the wide range of increasingly eww-worthy ingredients that his unfortunate younger sibling has to apply on his receding hairline never fails to raise laughs, it aptly illustrates just how much he is willing to embrace the bizarre in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Bhumi Pednekar is equally good as Latika, a strong-willed girl who learns to live on her own terms despite undue ridicule only to be ever-so-ready to give it back as good as she gets. Yami Gautam as the archetype of small-town social media influencers – a TikTok superstar chock-full of herself and valuing appearances over anything else – plays her character to the T, showcasing the unfathomable depth of her sense of betrayal when Bala’s baldness is exposed. Seema Pahwa is delightful as the moustachioed mausi with a penchant of groom-hunting for Latika, even if it means casual conwomanship on Instagram. Javed Jaffrey is utterly convincing as the pan-spitting, know-it-all lallantop Bachchan bhaiya, and Saurabh Shukla is as effortless as ever, delighting us with his friendly banter with his father-in-law and his genuine attempts at helping out his anxious son.

Over and above the generous dose of situational and anecdotal comedy, the movie shines through in how it tackles societal issues that are so commonplace in our everyday lives that we hardly ever stop to ponder over. Bala is essentially an admirable piece of social satire – it dwells on how appearances remain the name of the game even in modern day India, even as we keep deluding ourselves with calls of loving ourselves for just what we are. I also loved the fact that a prematurely balding young man is characterised as a fairness-cream salesman – a person desperately trying to live in denial is shown selling an obvious pipe dream (“ayurvedic chemical se bharpur”) to a section of people who are equally frowned upon for so-called shortcomings that neither had a hand in. And the maturity with which Bala and Latika’s equation transforms towards the end of the movie is another of the high points.

And last, but not the least, there are a few dialogues that I feel will remain with me for a while – “Selfie letein huyein self pity hota hai…”, “Jitne wicket bache hai naa, unke rehte hi apni inning bacha lo.” and “Jab tum khud ko poore sheeshe mein dekhne se darte ho, toh hum kaise inhe accept karr le?” being some of them. The clinching one of course being the line that is heart of Bala’s story – “Hair loss nahi…identity loss ho raha hai hamaara!”