Spoilers ahead…
In 1964, Sunil Dutt directed and acted in Yaadein, an experiment that had just Dutt on screen, except towards the end, where we see his family in silhouette. It was the story of a man who comes home and finds his wife and children missing, and spends the rest of the film alone, “trapped” in the past, inside his memories. Five decades later, Hindi cinema gets its second one-man show of a movie. At least for the most part.
In Vikramaditya Motwane’s Trapped, Rajkummar Rao plays Shaurya. Like the Dutt character, he spends most of the movie alone, boxed into four walls – but the difference is that he’s literally trapped. He moves into the 35th floor of a high rise named Swarg (heaven), and sinks, ironically, into hell when the main door slams shut with the keys dangling outside. This is a movie that likes to play with names. The building opposite the one where Shaurya endures endless dark nights of the soul is blithely called Sunshine. And what about Shaurya himself? The name invokes mythical, battlefield-worthy valour. The man is afraid of mice.
Like all survival films, Trapped is about the logistics of escape. How this thing comes of use. How that option is tried out. There’s a click-clack monotony to this sequence of events, and some of them, frankly, are unconvincing. What happens to the TV set Shaurya flings out of the balcony? Did the watchman below never walk past it, never wonder where it came from? And the slingshot that Shaurya designs may suggest a modern man’s return to atavism – it’s fun to see the film’s pace switch to slo-mo and the soundtrack switch to rock to complement Shaurya’s zero-to-hero transformation – but I found it far-fetched.
When the Tom Hanks character, in Cast Away, learns to spear a fish, it’s taken him years – you totally buy that this city slicker has turned hunter-gatherer. Trapped plays out similarly – Shaurya talks to a rat the way Hanks spoke with his volleyball – but it lacks the earlier film’s emotional resonance. Maybe it has to do with the setting. When a man is lost amidst nature, or when a woman is lost in space (as in Gravity), we are put in our rightful place. We are made to feel the insignificant newcomers to the cosmos that we are. The vastness of a metropolis, in contrast, isn’t much, and we feel escape is just a matter of time. It’s when, not whether.
But with a city, a different dimension kicks in. The TV channel that Shaurya and his former roommates keep watching is called Wild TV, and its Darwinist themes get grafted onto the city. In this concrete jungle, too, only the fittest survive. In a way, Trapped is a companion piece to Motwane’s Udaan, where a boy was trapped and sought to escape. The flat in this film is like the father in that one: cold, remote, unmoved about the plight of the creatures that share its space.
In an exquisitely put-together scene, Shaurya fashions a kind of red flare-light and waves it from his balcony at night. We cut to a long shot of the city. You have to squint to see Shaurya’s light, at the centre of the screen, in the midst of the millions of lights around. In another wonderful instance of editing, Shaurya sets things on fire hoping that the blaze will catch someone’s attention, and then, as the flames threaten to spread, he rips his T-shirt off and tries to extinguish them. We cut abruptly to the morning, to the city outside, coolly indifferent to Shaurya’s suffering. It’s not the calm after the storm. It’s the calm outside the storm, which city-dwellers are left to brave themselves.
The leanness and one-note-ness of the conceit allows us to project onto the film any number of urban-nightmare metaphors. Perhaps the average city-zen is like a rat trapped in a cage. Perhaps the higher you rise, the lonelier you become. (A flat on the 35th floor is so far above the hubbub of the city, it’s practically like the island Hanks found himself in.) Perhaps it’s about being alone despite being surrounded by flats, for doors are always closed and human interaction is all but absent.
The film, thus, lends itself to be read as complex allegory. Shaurya, in contrast, is touchingly simple. Unlike the protagonist of a psychological drama like Repulsion – another locked-door horror movie – Shaurya comes with no baggage. He wants the most basic things. Pav bhaji with lots of butter. A girl to marry. A flat to live in. A job that gives him money. So it’s easy to see why Shaurya listens to a shady dealer and moves into the flat in just one day. Because if he doesn’t get the flat, he won’t get the girl, Noorie (the wonderful Geetanjali Thapa), who’s getting married in two days. It’s taken him quite a bit of effort to get her to like him, and if she disappears, he’ll have to go through, all over again, the mortification of flirting rituals that don’t come easily to him. The point where the title appears hints that these relationships are some kind of trap too. Noorie tells Shaurya she’s about to get married. Black screen. “TRAPPED.”
The Noorie portions are the film’s weakest. They’re so compressed that the romance is generic – they’re both constructs, not characters. So by the end, when we get a wordless scene between them – he reaches for her hand, she pulls away – the gestural melodrama feels out of place, too monumental for this low-key relationship. And Noorie’s appearance in a flashback yields Trapped’s most embarrassingly literal scene. It rises from Shaurya hesitating to carve up a pigeon he’s killed. We segue into a debate about the ethics of eating meat, when a more fascinating fact stares us in the face, that even non-vegetarians might balk at becoming butchers. It’s one thing to enjoy a burger. It’s quite another to hack away at a cow. A point about class is made much more elegantly, when one of Shaurya’s “help me” messages (written on scraps of cardboard) lands by the watchman, who’s unable to decipher it. It doesn’t occur to Shaurya that he could have written the message in Hindi too. How many of us think about the others – the literal others – we share our cities with?
Even at a 100-something minutes, Trapped feels a tad stretched, but Rajkummar Rao ensures that the film is never less than watchable. Shaurya is an extension of the shy-guy character he played in Kai Po Che – except that there’s very little psychology, and so the actor has to rely entirely on his physicality. He keeps finding new things to do. A small, smug smile when he sees Mumbai far below the balcony of his new flat. A little Indian war dance (more like little hops of joy) when one of his ideas succeeds. Or even the quickness with which he removes his glasses so Noorie won’t tease him about them. At one point, Shaurya so parched, he pees into a saucepan and drinks it. Many people in the theatre laughed, and I wondered about our audience and the kind of films people like Motwane want to make. It’s a wonder they themselves don’t feel trapped.
Copyright ©2017 Baradwaj Rangan. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
anon
March 19, 2017
I was oscillating between annoyance and shock at the number of people that were laughing at key moments, in the theatre. I mean, are they lacking in empathy or is it a conditioned response that you gotta laugh loudly to show you’re enjoying something? Even if they didn’t connect with the protagonist’s plight or feel too badly, I think they did see these moments as comic, when I don;t think it was supposed to be.
There was too little pscyhology and too much physicality, as you said. So i couldn’t be invested in his plight as much. It needed to have much more “thriller” moments to justify its length.
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sanjana
March 19, 2017
Director’s intention seems to be not serious.
This reminds of of Kamal’s Pushpak. Trapped in a different sense.
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Rohit Sathish Nair
March 19, 2017
‘…and tries to extinguish them. We cut abruptly to the morning, to the city outside, coolly indifferent to Shaurya’s suffering’
Could this be Motwane’s nod to that matchstick cut in ‘Lawrence of Arabia’?
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Altman
March 20, 2017
“Could this be Motwane’s nod to that matchstick cut in ‘Lawrence of Arabia’?”
I don’t think so. The two cuts are contextually different from each other. In Lawrence of Arabia, the protagonist is transported to desert along with the viewer in a single cut. It doesn’t seem to be the case here as it kind of highlights the indifference of the outer world. The protagonist is still inside the room.
Interesting Trivia: David Lean originally intended to dissolve the matchstick scene into black screen before the sunrises in desert. Then someone suggested this technique inspired by the emerging French New Wave. It became one of the most iconic editing moments in cinema.
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Rohit Sathish Nair
March 20, 2017
Even I wasn’t equating the cuts on the basis of context. It just seemed that he was doffing his hat with a similar kind of cut.
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brangan
March 20, 2017
Rohit Sathish Nair: In a sense, yes, they’re both cuts — the most basic kind of cut. But it’s the meaning of the cut (i.e. what’s in this frame, what’s in the frame post the cut) that defines it, and the two instances are quite different.
Essentially, the Lawrence cut is about continuity — in a way, it’s a kind of a jump cut. Lawrence is here. CUT. Lawrence is there.
The Trapped cut is about contrast. Distress here. CUT. Calm outside.
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Rohit Sathish Nair
March 20, 2017
I see the difference now. Was a bit hasty at correlating the fire-extingiushing and sunrise parts.
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tu13dekh
March 20, 2017
@anon Conditioning and projection.
It will take a few more of similar movies for us to not laugh and to see what the director and actors want us to read from a scene. Rajkumar Rao doesn’t have chocolate abs, he ain’t no Nawazuddin (looks don’t matter, like, he has talent no?), he’s drugstore good looking. He’s no Kamal Hasan circa Pushpak with a cult status, so what is he? Non hero material, wannabe, hence the laughs. I mean when was the last time any of the profitable mainstream actors detached themselves whole heartedly from the hero persona? Proly Akshay Kumar with Hera Pheri?
You and I would do some of the things Shaurya did, but will any of the “heroes”? Nah, deux ex.
How about this?
Shaurya rips off the grille and chucks it from the 35th floor, it lands on the dakku daddy on his way to conduct Noori’s wedding rituals with a suitcase full of ca$h, and instantly kills him. She and her family finds Sharuya’s shirt tied to the grille, with halp plis, I stuck.kthnxbai. She figures out what has happened and runs to his place having realized the ubermensch that Shaurya is. She unlocks him, he fights off the horde of goons that the prospective groom has brought along to recapture her. Fin.
80 crore club, here I come.
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Dracarys
March 20, 2017
Why didn’t he think of ordering a food delivery? He would have been out in just 30 to 45 mins!!!🤓
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Nishanth Krishnan
March 20, 2017
Rao has a combination of both genuine acting skills and a boy next door personality that Mainstream Hindi Cinema really missed. It was becoming either the outrageousness of Ranbir Ranveer vs the Brute power performances of Irfan and Nawaz. He could well bring in a Vijay Sethupatish revolution in his own style, of course
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sanjana
March 20, 2017
No network and so he cant call anyone. Or his mobile got damaged.
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Anuj
March 20, 2017
Yet another purposeless, pointless & sheer meaningless venture by Anurag Kashyap prodigy Vikramaditya Motwane made with the sole and absolutely sole intention of narrating a story to himself and himself alone. Self obsession ain’t a bad thing but why release such a pointless movie for public viewing in 300 multiplex screens across the country when the same shows could be accommodated for movies like BKD or Beauty & the Beast which perhaps 99.9% of the audience is obviously is a lot more interested in watching? Ridiculous on behalf of film makers, distributors and exhibitors alike and a complete con on the movie watching audience.
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Anuj
March 20, 2017
“Why didn’t he think of ordering a food delivery? He would have been out in just 30 to 45 mins!” ~totally agreed. But that wouldn’t serve the purpose for narcissistic film makers like Motwane and their critic/reviewer friends. Makes like VB, Kashyap and Motwane should first be asked by the censor board whether they are making the film for public consumption or for themselves. If the latter, they should be made to pay out of their own pockets and the movie should be released only on the internet/TV and various phony French/Italian/Nigerian & Timbaktoo film festivals. Film makers making self indulgent movies that record under 5% occupancy on the first weekend and eat into the shows of more watchable films should be banned from making films for public consumption.
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neel219
March 20, 2017
SPOILERS
The movie was quite engrossing for me and the people in the theater were in sync with most of the director’s intentions.The peeing scene which your mentioned, made almost all uncomfortable and squeak a bit. There was an audible “yayyy!” when he finds the door open in the floor below .
I had a few issues with the creative liberty that the director took. One is the rain scene. That looked out of place and a force fit to me. Also, i think, it would have helped if the movie had shown things like “Day 5, Day 7 or 130 hrs…” That would helped to build the tension and be more emotionally connected with his plight.
PS – The movie is shot very near to my office and the high rise opposite SWARG is actually called Sunshine 🙂
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sanjana
March 20, 2017
Or they should be released at select theatres at the request of minimum audience like they did for Ship of Theseus. Once I went to watch a niche movie in a theatre and the show was cancelled due to lack of minimum 10 viewers.
But then one cant say. If luck smiles, such movies may start working like Queen at a lower level which was declared a superhit. But the possibility is almost nil for every such film.
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Anuj
March 21, 2017
@Sanjana : Queen & even Shandaar (although it was a dud) were genuine urban entertainers made with the intention of entertaining the urban multiplex audiences. “Intent” is one thing, “execution” is another. Flawed execution can still be pardoned on some occasions but flawed intent is pure self indulgence and inexplicable. And to those who might think that the only reason I say this is because Queen & Shandaar had recognizable faces, may I remind them that a movie like “Peepli Live” with zero face value still got considerable viewership within its limited domain only because of the film make’s “intention” to cater to her audience. Same goes for Jolly LLB-1, Fukrey, Pyaar ka Punchnama and many more. A solo hero film with zero entertainment value is nothing but a film maker’s fetish to narrate a story to himself.
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writewaycom
March 22, 2017
@baradwaj, have to agree with anuj. This movie doesnt warrant an existence. Rajkumar can best be described as a poor mans version of Amol Palekar with less screen presence and personality. Sorry, but hes just not a hero, even in a low budget movie, he need co-actors. Partially disappointed by the film as my expectation were huge from Motwane, but i took home nothing. Quite a pointless and forgettable film. Rao acts really well, but its hard to watch him for 2 hours even when acclaimed writers/directors are behind it. This could have been a beast of a movie with someone like Nawaz, who can light up the screen even when SRK or Salman is there with him. We can watch him for hours on end. Rajkumar still comes across as a Good, Eager,Student Film Actor who is desperate to get a break in films. Somehow the spark is missing in him. In most of his movies, even in when it was in Queen, he wears the “Victim Card” emotion on his face.
Would like to know your thoughts baradwaj.
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Sandeep Sarkar
March 22, 2017
@BR: I’m surprised nobody pointed out the parallels between 127 hours and this film. On a conceptual, structural and even detail-specific level.
Nevertheless, the film did work for me as it did for the audience through its running time. Agree with the commenter here who pointed out how as an audience we still put our peurile selves forward in the theater. Giggles and laughter during terse scenes here or over cuss-words in other films are such a mood-killer. Just when will we mature as film-goers?
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Navneeth
March 23, 2017
Sandeep Sarkar: You could add ‘Buried’ and ‘Locke’ to that list too.
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prasunb (@prasunb)
March 27, 2017
@Anuj I may be in a complete minority but would rather watch Trapped than Housefull 3. The director has made a film & released a trailer which is true to the film. So when you went to see the film you knew exactly what you were getting into. The fact that you didnt like it doesnt make it purposeless / pointless.
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Rahul
April 22, 2017
While getting down through the window , shaurya removes his belt for support. At this point his trousers doesn’t go down.
….why then it goes down when he is safe outside in a relatively comfortable position.
…just to make us laugh.
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KK
May 29, 2023
The TV set landed not near the watchmen, rather a floor above the watchmen. He just heard the thudding sound, nothing more.
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