Babil’s palpable reactions to invasion of privacy make a strong case for Logout’s plausible scenario, observes Sukanya Verma.
What’s destroying our body, messing our mind and annihilating our soul with its sweeping abundance and unshakeable addiction by just being a click or command away?
Director Amit Golani’s Logout, penned by The Viral Fever collaborator Biswapati Sarkar, attempts to find out in a digital-day drama sprinkled with reality check, social relevance and technological caution.
There’s an obvious Black Mirror quality about these investigations as its creator Charlie Booker regretfully noted in a Guardian column as far back as 2011, ‘It’s hard to think of a single human function that technology hasn’t somehow altered, apart perhaps from burping. That’s pretty much all we have left.’
Truly, every single day, machines take over man as possibilities are abused for short-sighted gains and cheap thrills.
Take the revolting sight of AI-generated Studio Ghibli-knockoffs taking the internet by storm these days and reducing years and years of hand drawn legacy into a tacky gimmick. Or a burgeoning breed of drivers too lost in their phone screens to remember road etiquette.
Logout opens with a rebuke on why cell phones are called cell phones as they are nothing but prisons designed for our mind holding over seven billion captive in their addiction.
Social media’s easy-peasy access and morale boosting wonders occupy a large part of our preoccupation with mobile phones and Pratyush Jha aka Pratman (Babil Khan), a popular social media influencer, is its prime endorser and unsuspecting victim in Golani’s tech-thriller, which belongs to similar subset of films as Love Sex Aur Dhokha 2, CTRL and to some extent, even Loveyapa.
Eager to achieve his 10 million followers target before arch-rival Nautankitaa beats him to it, Pratyush juggles between brand collaborations and round-the-clock engagement.
The value of Pratman’s popularity or talent is lost on the viewer as Logout cuts to the chase immediately after establishing his reliance around the boons of technology before they take the shape of a curse.
Constantly checking on his online success and response, the man cannot look away from the screen even when he’s having a meal with his older sister (Rasika Duggal) and revealing his strained ties with their disapproving folks. Pratyush’s dependency hits close to home.
Be it the Alexa-like Abbie obeying his every voice command for music and mood lighting, laying a mouse trap by instructing his building guard over a camera app on the phone, reminiscing the good old days with his ex over videos on the phone or ordering food on delivery apps — for most of us our phones are our home, happiness, bank, break, malls and meaningful conversations all rolled in one.
Robbed of this crutch, Pratyush’s life holds no meaning.
But what makes it truly terrifying is that the person in possession of his cell phone is a demented fan in the tradition of all demented fans of pop culture taking perverse pleasure in tormenting him by playing on their victim’s vulnerability.
How this unnervingly stalking ‘Pratmaniac1’ gets him to unlock the phone is a bit flimsy, the big reveal of their identity even more so.
Still, while the cat and mouse game lasts, there’s ample to stay glued to thanks to Babil’s everchanging emotional graph as he lays bare his complexes and capabilities with consistent gusto.
As Pratyush, he may be at the centre of the Logout and basking in its solo attention but he’s no hero.
There are several grey areas in his meticulously-curated reputation where he shrewdly agrees to a smear campaign and delays rescue for the sake of a spike in followers. It’s only when the extremes of encouraging such reckless behaviour dawns upon him, the value of old-fashioned connections makes its presence felt.
At all times, the story hints at the vicious nature of fame in the cyber era and its ability to flourish at any cost whilst highlighting the voyeurism of consumers and desperation of content makers.
By third act, its tale of caution loses steam and things seem too contrived to elevate Logout’s purpose beyond an in-the-moment thriller.
When at its best though, Babil’s palpable reactions to invasion of privacy make a strong case for Logout’s plausible scenario.
Logout streams on ZEE5.
Logout Review Rediff Rating:
