Bulbbul — A Ghost to Remember
Horror has never been my favorite genre. I try to avoid it like the plague (also, pandemic). And with the world already dealing with horrifying events, I am clearly not in the pursuit of scary movies these days. When the teaser of Bulbbul came out on Netflix, I was intrigued but still wasn’t ready to indulge. A review flashed on my phone that read “Bulbbul: A powerfully feminist, revisionist tale.” And instantly my brain went, “Well, now I have got to power through the fear and watch it.”
So what if I get nightmares while I am home quarantined and sleeping alone in the night? So what if the movie messes up my already messed up sleep cycle? So what if the gentle rustling of the leaves, a curtain blown by the breeze, or unidentifiable sounds of nature give me sleepless nights after watching this movie? I can do this for the sake of feminist ghosts. That’s what I kept telling myself.
SPOILER ALERT!
Bulbbul is a child bride in the late 19th century Bengal, India. I don’t want to write the details of the atrocities she suffers. It is extremely disturbing and traumatizing to watch. Patriarchy, misogyny, social injustices, and evil men brutalize and wrong her in inexplicable ways. Bulbbul momentarily dies and is resurrected by a spirit.
The way the director, writers, cinematographers, art directors, makeup artists, and costume designers portrayed a haunted woman is just fantastic. It will shatter all your stereotypes of a vengeful haunted woman. The changes in Bulbbul and her personailty are subtle yet quite apparent. She doesn’t suddenly wear gaudy makeup, dark/white clothes, or weird unnaturally colored eye lenses that randomly turn into flames to indicate a transition.
You can see the changes in her body language and demeanor. Her posture becomes poised and authoritatively confident. She begins to look people in the eyes and see through their bullshit. Bulbbul becomes unapologetically herself. She is now flirtatious, witty, decisive, enchanting, and humorous in a twisted way. Basically, she becomes a version of herself that most of us can only aspire to be. Also, a highly poignant take on how a woman has to die and become possessed by some supernatural power to be her most authentic and assertive self in a regressive society. Even now, many women like her are subjected to criticism and control.
Bulbbul doesn’t punish her sister-in-law even though that woman barely tried to protect her from the evil wrongdoings by the men of the family. Bulbbul knows her sister-in-law is also a victim of the system, and has lost the capability of doing the right thing. Bulbbul still has her vulnerable and gentle side. She is sweet and playful with the male doctor who helps her heal and respects her boundaries. The horrifying trauma caused to her by some men and patriarchy in general doesn’t turn her into an absolute manhater. She still wants to be loved and respected by good men. She is only going after monsters living within men.
Even in Bulbbul’s scariest avatar of a bloodthirsty ghost, she evoked more emotions in me besides fear. I also felt like going close to her, hug her, and apologize for everything she had to endure. How do you portray innocence, vulnerability, and horror simultaneously in such a hauntingly beautiful manner?
For that, I want to applaud the acting prowess of a fairly newcomer, Tripti Dimri who managed to act like a seasoned actor with finesse and conviction. The first time director, Anvita Dutt should be given credit for merging a chudail/demon-woman folklore into a sensitive and thought provoking storyline.
