Blackmail tells us no good comes from wrongdoing

From the very start of Abhinay Deo's Blackmail, it's clear that the fire of protagonist Dev Khosal’s (Irrfan Khan) marriage is down to its dying embers.

Deo expertly sets a grim stage that prepares us for the machinations to follow. We see Dev purposely staying late at work to avoid his wife Reena (Kirti Kulhari). He goes home to the measly, cold meal she sets out on the dining table for him; she can't be bothered to stay awake till he gets home. Still, it's obvious he adores Reena, but her interest in him seems limited to when she needs the television cable bill paid.

The story begins to spiral out of control – exactly as it’s meant to – when Dev discovers that Reena is having an affair. He secretly begins to blackmail Reena’s lover Ranjit (Arunoday Singh) for money, threatening to tell his wife about the affair. What follows is a series of unfortunate events.

After being blackmailed by Dev, Ranjit anonymously blackmails Reena. Dev’s colleagues get wind of his antics and blackmail him, threatening to tell his wife and, later, the police about what he's been up to. Ranjit hires a private detective who begins to blackmail Dev, offering to keep his identity from Ranjit in exchange for money. There’s an untimely death, the police get involved, friends turn against friends and lovers lose trust in each other.

It’s a narrative that spins itself like a web and leaves the audience asking, almost frustratingly, where this is all going. But the convolution effectively conveys the point that Blackmail is ultimately trying to make – wrongdoing begets wrongdoing, often with disastrous, unforeseeable consequences.

The result is a deliciously dark comedy that doesn’t take itself too seriously, even in moments of drama. At one point we see Dev bear witness to his colleague Dolly's (Divya Ditta) death and, when her parents show up at the apartment door, he escapes from the scene by taking off his clothes, covering his head with a paper bag (to avoid being identified) and simply running out the door. What follows is a chase scene that puts a humourous spin on a moment of high tension.

The story is driven by characters who are painted in shades of grey. There’s no clear division between good and bad and Blackmail doesn’t offer up a hero for the audience to sympathise with.

Dev is initially set up as a character we can root for. His grief is palpable when he discovers Reena’s affair and his refusal to react violently is almost laudable. Even when he begins to blackmail his wife’s lover, it is only to pay the monthly installment on his home and the bill for Reena’s television and the audience is able to forgive him for doing so. But, soon, his methods and motives become questionable and any sympathies that the audience could have for him are ultimately squashed when he sets up a murder (and gets away with it).

Blackmail's narrative spins itself like a web and leaves the audience asking where it's all going. But the convolution effectively conveys the point that the film is ultimately trying to make – wrongdoing begets wrongdoing, often with disastrous, unforeseeable consequences.

The other characters in the film are also trying to, simply put, hustle. Their methods, much like Dev’s, are questionable and it’s difficult for the audience to justify their actions. But it is exactly this moral ambivalence that makes the characters so relatable. None of us are good or bad. Our actions are governed by circumstances and emotions and, much like the characters of Blackmail, we often find ourselves indulging in questionable behaviour.

From the chowkidaar of Ranjit’s home, who divulges information about his boss to Dev upon being paid a bribe, to Dev’s colleague Dolly, who blackmails him for money, the characters of Blackmail are driven by their love and greed for money. And in today’s consumerist society, who are we to begrudge them this desire? In giving his characters a monetary motive for their questionable activities, Blackmail writer sends a clear message on how easily money can trap people in a self-weaving cycle of wrongdoing.

Blackmail’s characters are brought to life expertly by Irrfan Khan and a stellar supporting cast. Khan’s comic timing is, as always, spot on. But he is not alone in carrying the comedy of the film. From the totally unknown Vibha Chhibber, who plays private detective Chawla (Gajraj Rao’s) blind wife to Arunoday Singh, the actors brilliantly fulfil the task of comically playing out the drama of the characters’ lives. Rao himself is a force to be reckoned with on the screen. His presence commands every scene that he is in and his portrayal of the morally bankrupt private detective is funny enough to leave the audience in stitches.

Technically, Blackmail is a typical example of Indian art house cinema. Moody lighting and Wes Anderson-style symmetrical shots provide the framework for art direction that, by focusing on the tiny details, manages to create a believable, and relatable, ambience of middle-class India. The film is littered with visual metaphors that reflect the conceptual flow of the narrative. At the beginning of the movie, we see Dev watering a half-dead plant in his home, clearly a metaphor for the half-dead marriage that he is trying to keep alive. At the end of Blackmail, we see that Dev is no longer concerned with watering the plant much as he has now given up on his marriage.

Blackmail’s editing, unfortunately, tends to be lazy and typical at times. The manner in which Dev gets away with his friend’s murder and the lack of resolution regarding accusations against Dev’s in Dolly’s death also, unfortunately, take away from the narrative force of the movie. These weaknesses aside, Blackmail is a solidly entertaining film and an interesting narrative that has been done justice by the hands of a director who clearly knows what he is doing.