There are very few pleasures in Hindi cinema these days, but few among them surpass the joy of watching Tabu letting her hair down in a frivolous commercial masala film. Burdened with the image of playing neurotic characters in films by Vishal Bhardwaj and Sriram Raghavan or starring opposite Ajay Devgn in films with questionable artistic merit (do they even deserve her?), Tabu has always deserved more opportunities to lip-sync in a Diljit Dosanjh music video. Alongside Kareena Kapoor Khan and Kriti Sanon – both stars with decent acting chops – Tabu completes the trio by bringing her assurance to the proceedings. It was one of the reasons why I was looking forward to Rajesh Krishnan’s Crew – a film primarily about middle-class angst.
Krishnan’s film follows the lives of three flight attendants – Divya (Sanon), Geeta (Tabu) and Jasmine (Kapoor Khan) – employed by an airline modelled on Vijay Mallya’s Kingfisher Airlines. The fictitious airline is called Kohinoor Airlines and the billionaire owner is called Vijay Walia (Saswata Chatterjee) – giving the impression that Krishnan and writers Nidhi Mehra and Mehul Suri were not trying hard to conceal their real-life inspiration. The airline crew hasn’t been paid in over six months, with rumours of bankruptcy floating around. Things take a turn for better (and worse) when a colleague dies mid-air, and the air-hostesses find gold biscuits strapped to his chest. With each of them enduring financial strife to varying degrees, the air hostesses are forced to consider abandoning their respective moral code.
The question at the heart of Crew seems to be: in a world so hell-bent on rewarding the twisted and cunning, is it even sensible to be virtuous anymore? Should we all descend into the bottomless pit of greed? It’s a question that reminded me of Sai Paranjpye’s Katha (1982). We’ve seen similar class commentary emerge in Raj & DK’s web series Farzi (2022) and Krishnan’s own directorial debut Lootcase (2020). The premise is excellent, and the first half of Crew coasts along with minimum fuss. It’s only in the second half that things get significantly preposterous and less exciting.
A lot of it has to do with the broad-stroked humour, unlike in Krishnan’s debut which had writer Kapil Sawant’s made-in-Mumbai humour. Crew’s lack of cultural rootedness could be seen as an extension for a film that takes place majorly in hotels, transit lounges and/or mid-air. But there also seems to be the problem of Kapoor Khan and Sanon’s overzealous costume department. Nothing worn by them feels close to what an ordinary person would wear.
Among the three, only Tabu’s character feels (even slightly) fleshed out. A former local pageant winner (Miss Karnal, we’re told), Tabu’s Geeta Sethi is the only whose conflict holds water. Married to a former restaurateur-turned-cloud kitchen owner (played by Kapil Sharma), Divya and her husband’s scenes are arguably some of the most unpretentious portions of the film. Sharma, whose performance in Nandita Das’s Zwigato was slightly stilted, is more free-flowing here. In a touching moment, Sharma’s character expresses remorse about how he could never really do much for his wife. There’s a lovely situationship track between Sanon’s Divya and a newly-appointed customs officer, Jaiveer (Diljit Dosanjh), which manages to be effortlessly sexy. But, as the kids say these days, it’s only vibes. The track is conveniently abandoned.
A lot of the problems in Crew stem from a bullet point-approach to filmmaking by Krishnan and Co., where each of the primary characters are given easily distinguishable and identifiable traits. One is an earnest class topper, one is a reckless and street-smart hustler, and one is the mother-figure among the three. Human beings are more complex, and too contradictory to be boxed into a handful of attributes.
Also, unlike Lootcase which was an enjoyable ensemble caper featuring brilliant turns from Gajraj Rao, Ranvir Shorey, Vijay Raaz and Manuj Sharma, Crew never becomes the ensemble film it is meant to be. The ‘villains’ here – Rajesh Sharma and Saswata Chatterjee – aren’t given much of an arc or even funny lines. There’s a significant lack of humour and observation that is required to land this comedy caper. Or, even mirror the crackling chemistry of the Ocean’s franchise, which depends on the camaraderie of the cast. The friendship never feels like it exists off-screen. Despite its good intentions, Krishnan’s sophomore effort glazes over its destination.
At one point, Divya Sethi says something to the tune of – I haven’t spent half of my life labouring only to spend the rest of it with you in jail. Tabu has spent three decades building a career like few of her colleagues have, and we can’t even give her a single masala film worth her while.
