Shiboprosad Mukherjee and Nandita Roy are no strangers to making socially-relevant dramas based on real-life incidents. From Muktodhara (2012) to Raktabeej (2023), their films have captured a slice of our life and times. The director duo’s latest film, Bohurupi, is a dramatised retelling of a series of bank heists that rocked Bengal in the 1990s.
Bohurupi follows the story of Bikram Pramanik (Shiboprosad Mukherjee), a jute mill worker who lost his job due to a lockout. Framed for a murder, he pleads his innocence but the officer-in-charge Sumanta Ghoshal (Abir Chatterjee), a no-nonsense cop, is distracted due to his personal problems and doesn’t pay heed to Bikram’s pleas.
Behind bars, Bikram meets Selim Bhai (Rajat Ganguly), a bank heist specialist who takes Bikram under his wings. Upon his release, Bikram assumes a new identity and takes refuge in a village called Chyanchrapur where everyone is a crook! There he forms a gang to carry out bank heists. He quickly emerges as one of Bengal’s most wanted dacoits, and Sumanta Ghoshal’s most elusive target. The resultant cat-and-mouse chase propels the film forward at a pace that rarely falters.
Bohurupi succeeds largely due to a well-constructed script that balances thrills and spills with quieter moments of character development. Despite a slight dip into melodrama in the second half, Bohurupi quickly regains its footing with an action-packed climax. The story avoids excessive moralising — both Bikram and Sumanta are victims of fate and you cannot really take sides in this game of life.
Shiboprosad’s portrayal of Bikram brings out the character’s desperation, resilience, and wit, creating a multi-dimensional lead who is both charming and dangerous. As Bikram’s wife Jhimli, Koushani Mukherjee brings an impressive energy to her role. A pickpocket, Jhimli is the perfect companion for Bikram and it shows in Koushani and Shiboprosad’s chemistry.
Abir Chatterjee brings quiet intensity to Sumanta, a character caught between public duty and personal life. While Ritabhari brings tenderness to her character Pori, Sumanta’s wife, their personal tensions tend to somewhat derail the core plot.
Pradeep Bhattacharya’s effortless portrayal of Khuro, a guardian-like figure for Bikram, adds a laid-back charm and some much-needed levity.
Indranath Marick deserves commendation for his cinematography that brings out rural Bengal’s rugged beauty. Bonnie Chakraborty’s score adds intensity where needed without overpowering the story. Even the songs in Bohurupi are rustic and folk-themed. While Shimul Polash and Dakatiya Banshi have already become chartbusters online, a folk number Tui Kyano Eli Sarobare sung by Shilajit Majumder at the climax will have you head-banging.
Bohurupi makes its mark as a crime drama that celebrates Bengali folk culture. The traditional bohurupi performance art, in which artists dress as deities and demons to entertain local communities, adds an intriguing layer of identity and disguise, enhancing the game of deception between Bikram and Sumanta.
