There’s a lot of sex and allusions to sex in Bachelor. It’s the primary driver in the film which is seemingly populated by adults. In reality, its people are written to be a group of hormonal teenagers: they don’t quite have the experience with (or access to) sex and hence have to contend themselves with perennially obsessing about the women around them. The scenes are crudely shot.
Five minutes into Bachelor – which strips its lead of any little credit he may have amassed as an actor – GV Prakash spies a friend being intimate with a woman. He watches in unabashed fascination until the friend surfaces. The friend winks; this could very well be right out of a B-grade movie. Later, GVP spots the woman someplace. Fantasizes. The camera follows his gaze, and just like that, Bachelor’s transgressions multiply by the second.
Ten minutes in, there’s no running away from this GV Prakash film in which he fancies himself the hero. There’s also no wishing away the feeling of impending doom as Bachelor progresses. GV Prakash is here, in your face, unavoidably close, a shaggy beard to boot, and there isn’t much to do but engage with the fare he has had a debutant director conjure up.
He’s a wastrel, a drunkard, sleepily taking a piss on his friend’s Mac as a woman on the other end of the screen watches in horror. Nudge. It’s funny. A couple of scenes down, he swivels about in an office chair, in an office setup, a friend tells him all he has to do is open and close Excel sheets. GV Prakash as the self-styled Darling nods. Simple enough. A few moments later, he’s ogling at a woman. Half an hour in, he’s taking a deep swig off a bottle. It’s water obviously, not beer. That would be a bit too characterful in a film that devotes close to three hours just to establish the waywardness of its lead.
There’s just one, and that’s the film’s darling. He isn’t killed as the popular advice goes, to write or create something of note, instead he’s allowed to thrive without question. He drinks a lot, but cannot buy the beer. He has sex, but cannot afford the condoms. He seems literate, but doesn’t have an education. He’s also the bachelor in Bachelor, a man incapable of legally, morally, and ethically satisfying his needs. He resorts to cheating, manipulation, and a host of other unenviable tactics to do so, perhaps taking inspiration from a certain 2017 Telugu film that drew nation-wide criticism. Here, GV Prakash is apparently promoting casual sex. He hooks up with a girl, and it’s cool for a while in their hut. Then, plot driver number two is thrust in the midst: a pregnancy.
It would perhaps be asinine to evaluate or even condemn Bachelor‘s opinions about sex, pregnancy, abortion, impotence, masculinity, domestic violence and a host of other themes that reference gender. Suffice to say, director Sathish Selvakumar, who’s also credited as the writer, doesn’t hold the right end of the stick on any of the important issues he touches upon.
His notes and research, if any, were minimal:
Virile male lead >> casual sex >> unwanted pregnancy >> to abort or to not abort >> girl on guilt-trip >> loud family drama >> louder court-room drama >> girl aborts case, cradles bump >> walks out, middle finger in the air (= open to interpretation?=)
Domestic violence cases are made little of, reduced to cunning legal instruments. On the other hand, impotence is made much of. Men in Bachelor seem aghast at the prospect, even resorting to throwaway, crude humour. But then, it’s wasteful exercise to even try to do an autopsy of this film such as this when the cause is quite obvious: if the crew of a film ever needed parental supervision, it would be Bachelor‘s.
This Bachelor review is a Silverscreen original article. It was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the movie. Silverscreen.in and its writers do not have any commercial relationship with movies that are reviewed on the site.