Hebbuli Cut (Kannada)
At a very basic level, Bheemarao P’s debut film Hebbuli Cut, set in Chandrabanda in the North Karnataka–Telangana border, is about a young boy’s aspiration to get a fashionable haircut, like Sudeep’s in Hebbuli, and the path he takes to get it. At a deeper level, it is about how society and its obsession with class and caste kill spirits, bit by tiny bit, even as someone is in quest of dignity.
This is probably one of those very rare Kannada films that speak about caste without couching it in pleasant, acceptable language. But, to its credit, it does so without being preachy.
Vinaya (a brilliant Mounesh Nataranga) is the heart and soul of the film, keeping things going with his hope, joy, silent anger, and shy smiles. His parents are Mallanna (Mahadev Hadapad is pitch-perfect as dad, who is afraid for his son), who repairs shoes for a living, and Kanaka (the lovely Uma YG of Cinema Bandi fame). Vinaya grows his hair long, and all he wants is to get it cut by Channa (Mahantesh AS), the curly-haired wonder of Modern Men’s Buty Parlar, the go-to person for a good haircut. But he has to make do with the local barber, who is summoned home when the deed has to be done. The mother is constantly complaining about the unruly mop, the father does not mind, because they are not raising it with fertiliser or water.
Vinaya has a crush on his classmate Rekha (Ananya MK), the local heavyweight Basavan Gowda's (Vinay) sister. He goes through the ignominy of not just announcing whose son he is, but which Mallanna’s son. Every question is an attempt to show him his place and caste location. Every question is an attempt to erase his confidence. But Vinaya is genuinely innocent and does not understand caste and what he is “permitted” and “not permitted” to do, despite well-meaning advice. He hangs around with Rafique (Punith Shetty), who makes a name for lifting a 100-kg boulder and spends his time tinkering with vehicles.
After his hair is decimated by the local barber, Vinaya gets a promise from Channa, who is well-meaning while being aware of what allowing Vinaya into his salon will mean, that he will give him a haircut if he grows his hair again and brings Rs 500. And so, Vinaya works to do just that. He collects glass bottles and sells them, and does odd work to save the money needed for a Hebbuli Cut.
How does one view a caste perpetrator? As just someone who has caste pride or someone who uses their caste location to terrorise others into following diktats kept in place from time immemorial? Basavan Gowda is the second kind of bully — he thinks of nothing before taking another person’s place at the salon, and his eyes showcase the fury he feels when questioned. He’s also that person who, upon stamping faeces on the road, thinks nothing before wiping his shoes on Mallanna’s workspace — a sack spread out with show repair implements. All Mallanna can do is look blankly — his eyes ask the question, though. “Why am I being treated this way?”
When Vinaya puts out his hand to take money from Rekha for the slippers his father repaired, before the money can change hands, a hand slaps him hard. Basavan Gowda can’t bear to see Vinaya stand in proximity to Rekha. Vinaya’s innocence is endearing but also sets you up for what might happen when realisation finally dawns.
Bheemarao writes his characters with so much love, you know who they are and what they might do even before you see it on screen. The screenplay by Ananth Shandreya and Bheemarao takes that further, and the dialogue where Abhi Sindhanooru joins them serves to reinforce the premise.
You know Rafique’s mother trusts him even though she keeps yelling at him. You know Mallanna and Kanaka are the parents who ‘know’ their son’s friends and their homes. So, when Vinaya goes missing, they walk assuredly to these spaces. Theirs is a close-knit family — the parents know that even though Vinaya rushes to bed angrily, he will walk up to eat chicken saaru with a shy smile.
Music by Navaneeth Sham is unlike anything you’ve heard in recent times. Familiar melody takes the backseat, and the focus is on folksongs and sounds native to the region. Cinematography by Deep Yaragera paints the screen with a beautiful play of light and shade, showing you Vinay’s sparkling eyes as beautifully as Kanaka’s hot tears in the thick of night.
Bheemarao also throws the spotlight on how religion and divisiveness slowly creep into a place where only caste ruled before. Rafique is accused by a random person of selling a child in Mumbai, and WhatsApp is used to spread the rumour. A man feted some months ago for lifting a 100-kg boulder is pummelled by a mob. Stones are hurled at his mother, and Kanaka and Mallanna are judged because they protest this treatment. Watch the scene before the end credits — irony dies a thousand deaths.
This is why Hebbuli Cut is such an important Kannada film — it is accessible, and makes you realise the unfairness of it all, without telling you how to feel. And, that would not be possible if you’re not invested in the stories of Vinaya, Mallanna and Kanaka.
Someday, we would all love to know how Vinaya figured out his life. I see him as a quiet protester who is aware of what he is due and does not fail to fight for it. I hope Channa gets to ply his trade without worrying about antagonising a section of his customers. To that world, Bheemrao seems to say, let’s begin our walk.
Subha J Rao is an entertainment journalist covering Tamil and Kannada cinema and is based out of Mangaluru, Karnataka.
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.