Between shots of rippling blue water and moody, muted Mumbai apartments, a story of infidelity and intimacy unfolds. Amazon Prime's Gehraiyaan weaves this complex narrative, as two couples experience an affair seeping into their lives, leading their proverbial house of cards to collapse around them.
A tale of betrayal is a well-worn thread in the fabric of Indian cinema, but from the trailer itself, Gehraiyaan was touted to offer something alternate. There was already something modern about the premise, with a string of characters who exist in a contemporary tech-driven world. There's Alisha (Deepika Padukone), a yoga instructor attempting to launch a fitness app, and Karan (Dhairya Karwa), her boyfriend of six years struggling to publish — or even finish — a novel. Living worlds apart, but connected by family and history, is Alisha's cousin, Tia (Ananya Panday), an heiress archetype engaged to ambitious real estate firm owner Zain (Siddhant Chaturvedi). Within minutes of the film, Alisha appears caught in the fishnet of a stagnant relationship, ridden with financial woes and lack of conversation. Tia and Zain, meanwhile, rent yachts, pop champagne, and speak of pending nuptials, existing in a bubble of promise and privilege.
Bollywood has dipped its toes in renditions of infidelity, whether in Maqbool, a Macbeth-inspired remake, or the more cosmopolitan Kabhi Alvida naa Kehna, a story of two couples in New York City who witness the tear an affair can cause. Released in 2006, the latter was well received in the West, and despite box office success domestically, was a matter of concern: were these the values Indian cinema should portray? Lead actor Shah Rukh Khan and writer-director Karan Johar (who also produced Gehraiyaan) were even drawn into defending this portrait of marriage on special programs across Indian news channels at the time.
Sixteen years later, there is Gehraiyaan, a film centered around similar themes, younger characters, and based in India itself. I asked director Shakun Batra if he thinks Indian audiences are "ready" for a film like this, one that distorts the traditional representations of soulmates and marriage that have come to be so deeply embedded within Bollywood. While he isn't aiming to do anything "new" through the onscreen depiction of an affair, Batra explains the film is about far more than simply discovering a lifelong partner.
"It's not that [infidelity] hasn’t been explored but every time we have, it's been under the garb of wanting a meet a soulmate. In this film, it's about finding yourself," he says. Batra cites Hanif Kureishi's 1998 novel Intimacy as inspiration, reciting a quote about how an affair is not about the other person — it is about oneself. He expresses the hope that audiences within India are prepared to "embrace, accept" and have necessary conversations about rifts in relationships.
"It's not that [infidelity] hasn’t been explored but every time we have, it's been under the garb of wanting a meet a soulmate. In this film, it's about finding yourself."
The film sketches the affair through instances of touch, hidden texts, and visits to hotel rooms, shown with melodic songs hovering in the background. Elements of thriller and drama enter the story, too, with drama-laden twists that Bollywood is known for. This is hardly new imagery to accompany the trope of an affair in film, or even in literature.
But the intimacy portrayed within Gehraiyaan is notable, because even while borrowing from certain stereotypes, there is an uncanny realness to it all. There's plenty of physical intimacy onscreen, and this was not something Batra, the cast, and crew took lightly. The film is among a small number of Bollywood films leading the way with including intimacy workshops and coordinators on set, something I was keen to explore when speaking to members of the cast alongside Batra.
"I was nervous about jumping into this film without having thought about intimacy properly. We wanted to give it the kind of respect and attention it needed," Batra tells me. He emphasizes that exploring boundaries, ensuring comfort, and enforcing values of consent was fundamental to creating the sort of intimacy this film is blanketed with. "It was about creating a safe environment for the actors to be vulnerable in."
Ananya Panday, who plays Tia, agrees. The intimacy was not just physical, she says, but emotional between characters, whether playing romantic opposites or family members. "A simple touch or a look at one another can be so intimate. It’s not just between Deepika and Sid. Some of the characters had to know each other throughout their lives, so our back story and chemistry had to be solid," she says. "The [intimacy workshops] helped built a safe environment on set and broadened our horizons as actors."
Her co-star Dhairya Karwa adds that the trust built on set felt liberating. "As a performer, I felt very safe and secure. We dealt with intimacy with so much sensitivity and responsibility. When the audience is viewing it, even they will feel that."
"We dealt with intimacy with so much sensitivity and responsibility. When the audience is viewing it, even they will feel that."
This handling of intimacy, both in practice and in concept, facilitates nuance within the film. Gehraiyaan offers complexity in between moments of sex and secrecy, when characters ruminate on and grapple with the consequences of their actions. A scene in which Alisha and Zain speak about their past trauma, for instance, telling each other about the marriages of their respective parents, comes from a place of immense empathy.
Viewers realise the two characters are no longer in love with their respective partners: Alisha is stuck with Karan, Zain is unwillingly but resignedly dependent on Tia. The affair at first seemed hasty, simply a product of lust. As the two-and-a-half hour long film progresses, the undercurrents of each relationship is thoughtfully unfolded. This is a testament to both the storytelling and acting, resulting in a production that has viewers not rooting for any one character, but not standing against them either.
"As we try to write out more fleshed out characters with flaws, the only way we do justice to those characters is to step in their shoes," says Batra. "Writing, in its best form, is always an exercise in empathy. You can't write without empathy. That's been our aim and I would like to see how that converts [to screen] when people watch it."
There are only brief moments of joy within the film, and these are marred by the fundamental fact that the people experiencing joy are living in hiding, deceiving their partners and themselves. Albeit tiring to witness, the reality of infidelity appears to be the aim of the filmmakers.
"Writing, in its best form, is always an exercise in empathy. You can’t write without empathy."
Batra says that Indian cinema is starting to open such conversations, both on set and on screen. "We're going to open doors to a more evolved storytelling and whatever comes with that."
Evolved is certainly a word to describe Gehraiyaan, a film that does not shy away from displaying raw emotion that oftentimes exists behind closed doors. Here, the currents of infidelity overturn the lives of more than two people, creating a startling, tragic narrative. It's one that, despite whatever few flaws it holds, Bollywood needs.
