Lucky Baskhar Review

In Venky Atluri's Lucky Baskhar, a middle-class bank employee breaks bad. It is the '90s, India's stock market on a legendary bull run, and Harsha Mehra (a nod to the real-life fraudster Harshad Mehta) is running an epic stock market scam: funnelling bank deposits into the market, running up the prices and dumping stocks when the frenzy hits the highest. Dulquer Salman plays Baskhar, a cashier at Magadha Bank who enables the scam. He eyes social climbing and wealth, and his journey is framed not just as a financial heist, but as a commentary on societal expectations and the power of money.

Atluri taps into familiar themes: desperation, greed, and the pursuit of respect. In the film's early scenes, Baskhar can barely afford a roadside vada pav for his wife (Meenakshi Chaudhary) and their child. He is already subject to the judgement of his in-laws, and his child is shamed at school for his old clothes. But rather than explore Baskhar's inner turmoil in depth, the film quickly accelerates to his "breaking bad" transformation. When his friend and he begin to skim funds, Baskhar spirals into fraud without hesitation, chasing a lifestyle of luxury that mirrors his growing arrogance.

Through impeccable production design, the film immerses us in the vibrant, bustling world of '90s Bombay. From those of the bank interiors to Baskhar's house, the sets evoke a nostalgic charm that grounds the story in the period. Yet the portrayal of '90s Bombay lacks cultural nuance - why everybody speaks in Telugu is never explained. Even so, the film captures a sense of place with lived-in sets.

Atluri has much to say about the power of money, but most of it ends up being either trite or ill-observed. The film's bare-faced infatuation with money, and its lack of moral ambiguity, are somewhat shocking. It revels in Baskhar's slide into corruption and his growing wealth. That's why there is a gratuitous "Pretty Woman" sequence where Baskhar returns to a snobby jewelry store and cleans out the display cases. When Bhaskar's kid cries tears of gratitude over his parents throwing him a grand birthday party, saying he will now be respected by his classmates, don't expect Baskhar or his wife to chide the child about putting too much value on money. Baskhar instead doubles-down on his cons.

The film lacks an atmosphere of real tension, even in moments designed to raise stakes. At no point do we genuinely doubt that Baskhar will get away with his fraud. For instance, when Baskhar's boss asks him to open his suitcase - a suitcase we know to be full of cash stolen from the bank's vault - the scene holds little suspense. Baskhar has anticipated the boss's surprise inspection, cleverly hiding the money elsewhere. His foresight and wit seem unearned and unexplained.

The film's commitment to glamourising Baskhar's success detracts from its potential depth. Instead of examining Baskhar's moral conflict, Atluri often uses Salman's character to break the fourth wall, winking at the audience as if his fraud were merely a game. This choice distances you from any genuine empathy for Baskhar's predicament, making him feel more like a spectator in his own story than a man trapped by his decisions. We don't see the desperation on Baskhar's face - he lives in a large house, and when we are first introduced to him, he is also making money on the side helping people fill their bank forms. Things don't feel so dire, even though he is always showing his empty pockets and wallet.

That apathy and distance is also in Dulquer Salman's face as he plays the superficial protagonist. Despite brief sequences hinting at the cost of his actions, the film wraps up with Baskhar's clean slate, as family values quickly "redeem" his wrongdoing.

While Atluri succeeds in delivering an engaging, stylish film with nostalgic visuals, Lucky Baskhar falls short of being a truly resonant tale, instead opting to paint its antihero in a sympathetic, almost romanticized light. By ignoring the real-world consequences of such schemes, and by superficially exploring its characters, it portrays fraud as nothing more than a harmless game without serious cost. As a result, Lucky Baskhar feels more like a hollow drama that never digs deep enough.