Rajesh Krishnan’s heist comedy is one of the few Hindi films that treats its actresses like the superstars they are. The candour has been long overdue.
Rajesh Krishnan’s Crew is a heist comedy about three women who join forces to take back what should have been rightfully theirs after a lifetime of operating within a system designed to sideline them. Look at the premise close enough and it slowly reveals itself to be a metaphor about the Hindi film industry’s long-standing treatment of actresses. Here, even the most skilled performers are not beyond being reduced to an accessory in films, at times having to act opposite actors who forget to bring anything to the table.
To be an actress who can boast of a long career in Bollywood is to be content with largely playing second fiddle throughout it. And the careers of actresses are always a tightrope balancing act — it is only after several iterations of playing second fiddle that they occasionally get to be the main character. Men, on the other hand, are the stars — of narratives, of box-office returns, and more importantly, of public myth-making. This disparity exists not only because the Hindi film industry is a landscape that is dominated by men, but because it still remains one that is predisposed to catering to the preferences of a male audience.
It is perhaps why a gendered version of buddy comedies are the mainstream genre in Hindi cinema — titles like Dil Chahta Hai (2001), Golmaal (2006), 3 Idiots (2009), Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2011), Go Goa Gone (2013), and now Madgaon Express (2024) roll off our tongues like muscle memory. But titles like Aisha (2010), Veere Di Wedding (2018) and Dhak Dhak (2023) take a while to be remembered as the exceptions to the norm. Crew, a buddy comedy starring Tabu, Kareena Kapoor Khan, and Kriti Sanon then, isn’t only a movie about a heist. It is also a movie that is a heist.
Feminine tragicomedy meets heist capers
I say that because this is a film that couldn’t have existed in isolation even though it stars three of the most gifted and bankable actresses currently working in Hindi cinema. Crew is a film that could be willed to life mainly because six years ago, Veere Di Wedding broke assumptions about the box-office potential for a female-led film. I say this also because Crew raises the stakes manifold: This is a film jointly led by 52-year-old Tabu, 43-year-old Kareena Kapoor Khan, and 33-year-old Kriti Sanon; a film that mines the celebrity status of each of its actresses to re-contextualize definitions of pluck, desirability, and comic timing on screen. But, most importantly, Crew is one of the few Hindi films that treats its actresses like the superstars they are. The candour has been long overdue.
Co-written by Mehul Suri and Nidhi Mehra, Crew revolves around the misadventures of Kohinoor Airlines, a bankrupt commercial carrier owned by fugitive businessman Vijay Walia (Saswata Chatterjee). The action starts when Divya (Sanon), Jasmine (Kapoor Khan) and Geeta (Tabu), three frustrated flight attendants who work with Kohinoor, decide to take matters in their own hands. Broke and tired of leading double lives, the trio get involved in an elaborate cross-border gold-smuggling racket that infuses feminine tragicomedy into the eat-the-rich template of heist capers.
Almost all of Crew is designed as an opportunity for its three leads to elevate the written text with their shared history, charisma, and their ability to self-mythologise their celebrity reputations. If the sparkling chemistry between Kapoor Khan, Tabu, and Sanon feels lived-in, it is because Krishnan’s eye remains invested in seeing three women share the same frame rather than seeing three women jostling for space within the same frame. This language of careless abandon is reciprocated by the three leads.
Nearly every scene that features the three actresses conjures comedy gold out of gestures, grunts, facial contortions, and dialogue delivery. That they would have electric chemistry with each other feels like stating a point that is obvious to everyone. But there is something to be said about the way their bodies move around each other without being conscious of taking up space with each other. Like the intimacy of being the last three girls who are awake at a slumber party while everyone else is fast asleep.
Of course, Crew wouldn’t nearly have the same effect if Jasmine, Geeta, and Divya were not characters that were so clearly written for the actresses playing them instead of the other way around. Kapoor Khan’s Jasmine, for instance, feels like an evolution of Jab We Met’s Geet, in the way her personality is written as a smart-mouth (the co-writers deliciously sneak in a self-referential spin of an iconic Geet dialogue).
Kareena’s deeply comic turn
But then there are also moments where Jasmine’s inner sadness feels borrowed from Lal Singh Chaddha’s Rupa and her carefree abandon seems reminiscent of Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon’s Sanjana as well as Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham’s Poo. Perhaps that is because Jasmine is an ultimate nod to Kapoor Khan’s two-decade long filmography, one that is a powerful reminder to see the actress as the versatile acting powerhouse that she is. Put simply, Jasmine wouldn’t exist if Kareena Kapoor Khan didn’t exist in Hindi cinema.
In fact, the character is also a dig at the constant note that Kapoor Khan has been subjected to all through her career — that she makes it look too easy. All too often, critics and viewers tend to dismiss Kapoor Khan’s natural charisma on screen as evidence of her just being herself, or worse, not turning in a performance that seems like it required any effort.
Crew then exists as a reminder that Kapoor Khan is the kind of actor who can effortlessly light up a scene or a moment by just being in it. That making it look that easy is really a skill that most actors spend a lifetime acquiring. It helps that, on her part, the actress delivers a deeply comic turn that is undoubtedly the film’s weapon and shield. I had a hard time pinpointing one second when Kapoor Khan doesn’t appear to be committed to having fun. Take a climactic scene, for instance, a wordless moment that hinges on the hilarity of Kapoor Khan’s heightened facial expressions as she tries meeting the demands of a spoilt, rich bride on a private jet.
Tabu and Sanon’s parts feel similarly infused with subtext of their filmography. An early suggestive scene between Geeta and her husband (Kapil Sharma) reminded me of her iconic “aphrodisiac” moment from Andhadhun. As Geeta, Tabu is finally given a role that allows her to let loose while doing justice to her craft (Akiv Aki’s 2019 film De De Pyaar De had imagined Tabu in a somewhat similar universe). On her part, the actress runs with it, the one-liners rolling fluently off her tongue.
A showcase of tiny radical acts
If Kapoor Khan ensures that Crew has its standouts moments, then Tabu’s perfectly calibrated performance that sways between anxiety and urgency, guarantees that the seconds and minutes between these moments become memorable. Likewise, Sanon’s Divya initially seems like a character that the actress had already played before until it dawned on me that it is the culmination of the myriad underwritten and forgettable romantic leads that the actress has played over the course of her career. The difference here is a screenplay that is actually invested in her character arc.
The little touches complement the makers envisioning Crew as a feminine comedy. Take, for instance, the idea of a Louis Vuitton luxury handbag bankrolling a decisive revenge trip abroad, a detail that feels both believable to the plot and one that could only exist in a heist comedy starring women. It’s a clever way to design the ultimate female fantasy by affording the things that give women pleasure with monetary value. Or how the climactic moment of conning recasts women not only as caregivers but also as providers. Even the thread of these women leading double lives that runs throughout the film is such a perfect nod to the casualty of womanhood — the price of independence is after all, always a performance.
Still, these touches wouldn’t have come together so effortlessly had it not been for the attention to detail that Crew pays to its wardrobe. If Imtiaz Ali is the kind of filmmaker who makes movies about the music in his head, then Rhea Kapoor is the kind of producer who thinks about clothes as a fully-realized character in her films. Just like Aisha and Veere Di Wedding, the clothes in Crew offer a refreshingly new lexicon for modern womanhood. The plaid belted dresses, the long-flowing dresses, and the crop tops afford viewers a window into the interior lives of three women. It doesn’t hurt that these outfits are all so damn breathtaking and that Kapoor Khan, Tabu, and Sanon pull each of their looks with aplomb.
What stands out is not only the fact that the three actresses are styled in outfits that inspire both awe and envy, but that the purpose of these outfits is not simply objectification. The end goal of these looks is not to ensure that a section of the audience is titillated, but rather to enable a section of the audience to rethink the outdated ideals of female desirability. That in itself feels like a radical act. That is to say, Crew is the kind of film that is built on several tiny radical acts, culminating into two hours that are equally rewarding and joyous. It is the most fun three women have had in Hindi cinema in a very long time.
