Call it the KGF hangover or whatever, but Kannada cinema seems to be still reeling under the Rocky Bhai effect. In director Shoonya’s Head Bush, the narrative unfolds in the year 1974 through the spectrum of political and radical change as Prime Minister Indira Gandhi exhorts her ministers to curb feudalism in the country. Following this, we are led to the crummy streets of Bengaluru where the annual Karaga celebrations are on and a large crowd eagerly beckons the local macho man Jayaraj. There are hot embers laid out in the centre of the action, suggestive of the fuel and the drive that burn inside the protagonist, and it is a no-brainer that we are in for a majestic entry shot of the hero. In the same breath, through no deliberation whatsoever, we understand that Jayaraj will soon become the face of the social change that Madam Gandhi seeks and the same change will serve as a platform for the making of Bengaluru’s first recognised don or gangster.
Head Bush, starring Dhananjaya as MP Jayaraj, is deeply rooted in the conventions of the ‘antihero’ cinema and the makers have no qualms in announcing that emphatically. The only issue, however, is the perplexing lack of any nuance with which the vibrant, real-life story is treated and how Jayaraj, in the attempt to be eulogised, is ultimately rendered as a giant ball of mess. One will likely walk out of the cinema hall not thinking of Head Bush the film or the plot but the number of cigarette drags that Dhananjaya took through the run time.
Following PM Gandhi’s orders, then Karnataka Chief Minister Devaraj Urs sets up a unique body called Indira Brigade to try and abolish the rampant feudalism in the state. He makes his son-in-law and the visibly dicey MD Nataraj, or MDN, the state President who in turn recruits street rowdy Jayaraj to lead the front in Bengaluru. Jayaraj, grown up denigrated by society, gets into it with gusto and, with the help of his buddies, sets up a massive clan of thugs in the city to realise the mission of the Indira Brigade. “Politics is all about snatching from the rich and sharing it with the poor,” says MDN and Jayaraj becomes an embodiment of that ideology: he snatches, he cuts, but also gambles away his morality.
Head bush refers to the two sides of a coin (known as heads and tails colloquially) and was a popular gambling game in the 70s. The film also uses this as a metaphor for the moral choice that Jayaraj is compelled to make; whether he wins the game of chance or not forms the rest of the story.
The problems in Head Bush stem from Agni Sreedhar’s screenplay. As someone who has known the entire milieu and almost every character personally, Sreedhar’s latest cinematic version of his novel My Days of the Underworld is bizarrely outdated because everything in the film, be it the characters, the physical setting or the atmosphere, feels detached and inauthentic. At first glance, there’s the entire range of devices at the writer’s disposal – from the rags-to-riches narrative to moral conundrums and tender love stories – but the writing doesn’t bring it all together as though it’s part of one single journey but instead it is broken down unnecessarily as a lengthy highlight reel. Each of these highlights is a cue for cinematographer Sunoj Velayudhan to switch to slow motion and if it wasn’t for these stylised portions, the film may have ended up looking like a daily soap opera. Art director Baadal Nanjundaswamy’s conception of the world of Head Bush lacks the required depth and ambition, and despite Charan Raj scoring a most eclectic and flavourful soundtrack, the film comes across as bland.
That said, the film is mildly impactful when Shoonya unabashedly attempts to elevate his hero. Granted that almost every exposition in the film is a fight sequence but when done right and on point, they shine. But these come very sporadically and when writer Agni Sreedhar tries to fill the gaps with the emotional arcs, the narrative begrudgingly refuses to accept the incoherence. The rest of the cast, including Yogesh, Balu Nagendra, Raghu Mukherjee, Sruthi Hariharan, Devaraj and others, are impressionable in parts but do not bear any impact as an ensemble.
As much as Head Bush borrows its ethos from films like Deewar, Trishul, Ziddi or the more recent KGF: Chapter 2 and Pushpa: The Rise, the film still flounders because it doesn’t carry a clear perspective. It’s a hero-driven mass vehicle no doubt, but there is no emotional bearing to guide an inward journey, or for the audience to connect to. There’s no defined antagonism to challenge Jayaraj and though the idea of using his own assets against him does sound exciting on paper, it does not translate well onto the screen. Kothwal Ramachandra Rao (played by Vasishta N Simha), who in real life was the biggest threat to Jayaraj’s rise, is rendered as a unidimensional character who mouths silly lines, plots the most obvious schemes and twirls his moustache incessantly. It is apparent that Dhananjaya, for all his skills as an actor, is trying with all his might to keep things afloat but is ultimately weighed down by the lacklustre efforts.
Head Bush, as a film and the first episode of a potential long series, promises a lot but delivers on very, very little because the film, unfortunately, is consumed by its own lack of clarity.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film's producers or any other members of its cast and crew.