Neeraj Ghaywan’s Homebound presents an in-depth critical analysis of the film's harrowing portrait of India's migrant crisis during the COVID-19 lockdown, a narrative where the road becomes a weapon and the state remains a spectator, forcing us to finally look.
PART I: CONTEXT & ADAPTATION
SOURCE MATERIAL ANALYSIS
The transformation of Amrit Kumar and Mohammad Saiyub from textile workers in Basharat Peer’s essay into police aspirants in Homebound functions as a deliberate and meaningful narrative shift. Rather than confining the story to the familiar terrain of economic hardship and survival, this change significantly raises the ideological stakes. By positioning Chandan and Shoaib as candidates for the constable examination, Neeraj Ghaywan foregrounds the idea of “institutional dignity”—the belief that social respect and protection can be accessed through state authority.
Their pursuit is not motivated solely by financial security, but by the symbolic power of the police uniform. In rural North India, such a uniform represents a rare means of escaping caste-based and religious vulnerability. This narrative choice intensifies the film’s tragedy, as the protagonists seek inclusion within a state system that ultimately fails them through indifference. Consequently, the film moves beyond a simple account of poverty to expose a deeper crisis of citizenship: Chandan and Shoaib attempt to align themselves with the state in order to survive its neglect and violence.
PRODUCTION CONTEXT
Martin Scorsese’s role as Executive Producer extends beyond mere promotional value and can be traced in the film’s stylistic discipline and editorial choices. His influence is evident in the restrained pacing and the film’s unwavering gaze, which resists the sentimental excesses commonly associated with Bollywood’s portrayals of deprivation. Rather than aestheticizing suffering for emotional catharsis, Homebound embraces a neorealist mode marked by detachment and endurance, aligning with what critics describe as a “cinema of exhaustion.”
This stylistic approach, however, introduces the tension of the so-called “international festival gaze.” The minimal editing, prolonged silences, and measured rhythm resonate strongly with Western festival circuits such as Cannes, yet they risk estranging domestic viewers who may perceive the narrative as uncomfortably bleak or deliberately slow. While Scorsese’s mentorship appears to have safeguarded the film from commercial compromise, it simultaneously creates a critical distance, positioning the audience as observers analyzing suffering rather than fully inhabiting the characters’ lived experience, particularly in the film’s opening sections.
PART II: NARRATIVE STRUCTURE & THEMATIC STUDY THE POLITICS OF THE "UNIFORM"
The figure of 2.5 million candidates competing for merely 3,500 positions functions as the film’s most unsettling element, exposing meritocracy as a statistical illusion rather than a fair system. Within this overwhelming imbalance, the police uniform assumes an almost mythical significance for the protagonists, imagined as a protective barrier against humiliation and exclusion.
For Chandan, a Dalit, and Shoaib, a Muslim, the khaki uniform promises the erasure of socially stigmatized identities. To wear it is to transcend caste and religion and momentarily embody state authority itself. Homebound systematically dismantles this belief by revealing a structure that thrives on endless aspiration—one that profits from their preparation, discipline, and fees, while offering no genuine pathway to inclusion. In doing so, the film lays bare a system that demands commitment from the marginalized without any real intention of granting them belonging.
Intersectionality (Micro-aggressions)
Caste (Chandan)
Chandan’s decision to apply under the ‘General’ category functions as a deeply revealing psychological marker of internalized oppression. This choice goes beyond questions of self-respect or ambition; it reflects a longing to appear socially “unmarked.” By refusing reservation, he hopes to dissociate himself from the historical burden of caste and to succeed on terms defined by dominant structures. The act exposes a painful form of shame, wherein the marginalized subject attempts to conform to the standards of the oppressor in order to claim legitimacy, trusting that individual merit might erase entrenched structural prejudice.
Religion (Shoaib)
The water bottle episode derives its disturbing power from its ordinariness rather than from explicit hostility. The supervisor’s silent intervention to prevent Shoaib from using the shared water source exemplifies a form of “quiet cruelty,” in which exclusion is enacted without verbal abuse or physical force. This gesture subtly designates Shoaib as impure or threatening, reinforcing religious othering through routine workplace conduct. By avoiding spectacle, the film demonstrates how discrimination operates as an everyday, administrative practice—normalized, efficient, and deeply embedded in social interactions.
THE PANDEMIC AS NARRATIVE DEVICE
The arrival of the lockdown does not function as a narrative shock or sudden reversal; rather, it intensifies the pre-existing condition of what can be described as “slow violence.” In the film’s first half, structural forces such as chronic unemployment, systemic discrimination, and institutional neglect are shown to wear down lives gradually over time. The second half, marked by the lockdown, simply compresses this process, transforming prolonged suffering into immediate physical danger. Throughout both phases, state indifference remains unchanged—only the speed at which its consequences unfold is altered.
Homebound ultimately suggests that for marginalized communities, crisis is not an exception but an ongoing reality. The pandemic merely rendered this continuous condition temporarily visible to the middle class and the media, before public attention once again moved elsewhere.
Vishal Jethwa’s portrayal of Chandan is rooted almost entirely in bodily expression. The weight of inherited trauma is communicated through his physical presence rather than dialogue. In the scene where a police officer asks for his full name, Jethwa’s response is not merely verbal hesitation; his body visibly contracts. His posture collapses, his gaze lowers, and his movements suggest a reflexive anticipation of humiliation. This performance powerfully illustrates how caste operates beyond social categorization, becoming an embodied experience that shapes posture, voice, and one’s capacity to occupy space with confidence.
The “Othered” Citizen: Ishaan Khatter (Shoaib)
Shoaib’s character embodies the persistent, underlying unease experienced by the Indian Muslim male subject. His decision to turn down employment in Dubai marks a crucial moment in his narrative trajectory. By choosing the perceived stability of a government position over economic opportunity abroad, Shoaib seeks affirmation of belonging within the Indian nation-state. His journey reflects a painful irony: despite adhering to the rules of civic respectability—education, discipline, and loyalty—the state ultimately abandons him. His fate on the highway underscores the tragedy of unreciprocated patriotism, where devotion to the nation is met with bureaucratic indifference rather than recognition.
The film’s treatment of Sudha Bharti introduces a slight narrative imbalance. While Janhvi Kapoor delivers a controlled and nuanced performance, the character functions more as a structural element than as a fully developed individual. Sudha primarily serves as an observer and moral reference point, symbolizing the educational access and relative privilege denied to the male protagonists. Her inability to intervene meaningfully highlights a central irony of the film: even education and social capital prove powerless in the face of widespread systemic collapse and humanitarian neglect.
PART IV: CINEMATIC LANGUAGE
Visual Aesthetics: An Aesthetic of Exhaustion
Pratik Shah’s cinematography turns the physical setting into an instrument of fatigue and pressure. The visual palette—dominated by muted warmth, greys, and dust—offers little respite, creating a consistently oppressive atmosphere. Repeated low-angle shots of feet, blistered heels, and torn footwear draw attention to the sheer bodily effort required to keep moving. This visual strategy constructs what may be described as an “aesthetic of exhaustion,” allowing the audience to almost register the heat rising from the road surface. Rather than presenting the journey as liberating or scenic, the film depicts the road as an antagonistic force that steadily wears down those who traverse it.
Soundscape: Resisting Melodramatic Excess
The background score by Naren Chandavarkar and Benedict Taylor deliberately avoids conventional emotional manipulation. Instead of relying on sentimental orchestration or dramatic musical cues, the sound design remains restrained, ambient, and industrial in tone. This refusal to guide the viewer’s emotional response compels the audience to confront the bleakness of the situation without comfort. The resulting silence intensifies the tragedy, as the surrounding soundscape mirrors the indifference of both the highway and the state. In this auditory vacuum, the characters’ breathing, footsteps, and bodily strain become the most resonant sounds, heightening the film’s sense of abandonment.
PART V: CRITICAL DISCOURSE & ETHICS
Censorship: The CBFC Interventions
The decision to mute the word “Gyan” (knowledge) and excise the reference to “Aloo Gobhi” may appear trivial, yet these edits are deeply symptomatic of censorial unease. The CBFC’s discomfort seems directed not at explicit dissent, but at everyday markers of class and deprivation. The mention of “Aloo Gobhi,” likely situated within a context of hunger or rising food costs, grounds poverty in familiar, lived experience. Its removal indicates an attempt to cleanse the narrative of specificity, allowing suffering to remain visible only in abstract form while obscuring the concrete political conditions—such as food insecurity and material scarcity—that produce it. In doing so, censorship works to strip the characters’ hunger of its political charge, rendering deprivation less confrontational and more palatable.
Ethics of Adaptation
This aspect of the film presents the most ethically complex challenge. Allegations of plagiarism by Puja Changoiwala, coupled with reports that the family of Amrit Kumar received little or no compensation, significantly trouble the film’s moral authority. These controversies force an uncomfortable but necessary question: is it possible to produce a film that critiques capitalist exploitation while simultaneously relying on extractive creative practices? Appeals to “raising awareness” often function as a protective justification for artists. However, when the real individuals whose suffering informs the narrative remain materially unchanged, even as the film garners awards, acclaim, and financial returns, the empathy generated risks becoming symbolic rather than substantive. In such circumstances, the production risks reproducing the very structures of exploitation it seeks to condemn.
Commerce versus Art
Karan Johar’s remarks about the commercial unviability of films like Homebound underscore the structural tension between artistic intention and market logic. While the film accrues significant cultural capital—enhancing the studio’s prestige through festival recognition and critical acclaim—its poor performance at the domestic box office suggests a broader disconnect with mainstream Indian audiences. For many viewers, cinema functions primarily as a form of escapism rather than a space for confronting social realities. As a result, Homebound operates largely as a film tailored to elite sensibilities and international festival circuits, offering moral affirmation to privileged spectators rather than mobilizing the communities whose struggles it portrays.
PART VI: FINAL SYNTHESIS (SAMPLE ESSAY EXCERPT)
Neeraj Ghaywan’s Homebound (2025) advances a stark and unsettling proposition: within the contemporary nation-state, dignity functions less as an inalienable human right and more as an administrative concession, one that can be withdrawn without warning. Through the ordeal of Chandan and Shoaib, the film reimagines the idea of the “Journey Home” not as a movement toward refuge or belonging, but as a terminal passage through a society that no longer acknowledges them as legitimate citizens.
At its core, the film’s primary antagonist is not the pandemic itself, but institutional indifference. This becomes evident well before the onset of the lockdown. The protagonists’ intense investment in the police recruitment process reveals their deeper psychological motivation. Their pursuit is not driven by economic need alone, but by a craving for recognition and legitimacy. In a social order structured by caste hierarchy and religious exclusion, the police uniform represents a form of supra-identity—a symbolic shield capable of overriding inherited stigma. Chandan and Shoaib place their faith in the social contract, believing that discipline, perseverance, and compliance will be rewarded with acceptance. They imagine the state as a benevolent authority that will eventually acknowledge their worth.
The lockdown narrative decisively dismantles this faith. As urban spaces shut down, the protagonists lose both their means of livelihood and their aspirational status as exam candidates. Reduced to vulnerable bodies traversing vast stretches of highway, they are stripped of all social markers except their physical existence. Ghaywan transforms the road from a route of passage into an instrument of attrition. Through Pratik Shah’s visual emphasis on wounds, grime, and an unyielding horizon, the film foregrounds the corporeal toll of abandonment, compelling viewers to confront the material consequences of systemic neglect.
Importantly, Homebound insists that this tragedy is structural rather than individual. Chandan’s decision to suppress his caste identity by applying under the ‘General’ category and Shoaib’s quiet tolerance of religious micro-aggressions function as adaptive strategies aimed at survival. Yet these efforts prove futile, not because of personal failure, but because the system is calibrated to exclude them regardless of conformity. Their adherence to civic norms—politeness, diligence, and patriotic commitment—offers no protection. Their deaths emerge not from flawed choices, but from a social order that affords them no viable space for existence.
The film’s political critique is further underscored by the CBFC’s censorial interventions, particularly the removal of references to everyday food items such as “Aloo Gobhi.” These cuts signal an institutional discomfort with confronting the most elementary lapses of governance. By erasing such concrete markers of hunger, censorship seeks to abstract suffering and dilute its political specificity. In doing so, the state attempts to recast deprivation as a narrative inconvenience rather than acknowledge it as an indictment of systemic failure. Homebound resists this erasure, exposing a reality in which the marginalized encounter the state not as a source of protection, but as a detached and unresponsive observer.
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