Follower

Early on in Harshad Nalawade’s Follower, we see its central character, Raghvendra “Raghu” Pawar (Raghu Prakash), commuting to work one morning. It’s an innocuous little routine—a man rides through town on his motorbike. The passing scenery is reminiscent of any tier-2 Indian city: dusty cricket grounds, petrol pumps, bus stops, a giant clock, a flyover under construction, a bridge. A closer look, however, reveals that the streets simmer with unresolved frictions and resolute fictions. Garlanded statues of fabled kings compete for attention with garlanded statues of fabled queens. Flags of clashing political parties and communities dot the statues and bus stops. A lone church shies away in the background. Raghu has the stoic manner of a combatant weaving through the debris of a decades-long dispute. We soon learn that this town, Belgaum, is a war zone of identity.

An angry mob vandalises a public space. The premise is ransacked, chairs are upturned, and threats are issued: “Every action has a reaction”. They are seething over a remark made by a comedian about their political leader, standing in that place. Soon, social media is crammed with more threats and conspiracy theories, each linking the said comedian to extremists and sources of his funding to illegal sponsorship; he is tipped to be the unofficial spokesperson of the rival party. As days pass, speculations get rife; one party worker comes to a news channel and says he regrets nothing. “There should be a limit to humour”. Harshad Nalawade’s Follower is about that person. This might be technically misleading, but it is spiritually accurate. Nalawade’s astute and timely film is about the faceless trolls that appear to self-multiply and clog every pore of social media. His debut film tracks the senseless way they operate, fuelled by the misguided notion that unquestionable obedience is their greatest calling. Follower is about followers.

The Maharashtra-Karnataka border dispute is largely centered around the city of Belagavi, aka Belgaum. While the city is in Karnataka, for years, allegations of suppression of the large Marathi-speaking population there have been doing the rounds. This issue forms one of the cruxes of Harshad Nalawade’s debut feature Follower. However, the larger part of the film, which premiered at the International Film Festival of Rotterdam in 2023, revolves around a disillusioned and disgruntled youngster, who joins a small media company that works to further a local politician’s agenda via social media. Raghavendra Pawar (Raghu Basarimarad), a well-educated Marathi-speaking resident of Belagavi, quits his job at a college after he’s allegedly sidelined by the Kannada-speaking authorities and denied a promotion. While searching for another job, he takes over his father’s gift shop after his father dies in an accident. Unemployed and constantly looked down upon by people around him, Raghavendra blames the socio-political scenario for his plight, villainising all Kannada-speaking people, including his friend Sachin (Harshad Nalawade), a YouTuber. He is eventually influenced by the local politician’s ‘fight’ for the Marathi-speaking community in the area and takes up a job that he believes he’s doing for the service of his community, thanks to the polarising words of the politician he idolises. But influenced and unthought decisions often have a way of rebounding, which is exactly what happens with Raghavendra. What, how and why are questions that Follower aims to address.

What makes Follower more interesting and intriguing is that it organically weaves a story of close friendship between three friends and perfectly joins the same with the political conflict. It also makes fine use of flashback. The story could have been narrated in a linear form and it still would have been likeable. But the back and forth narrative converts the film also into a mystery drama. The events that lead Raghu into becoming a staunch supporter of the star political leader is the biggest triumph of the film. The production value makes the film look more like a telefilm. The lack of proper resources is clearly visible. This, however, doesn’t turn out to be a major issue because of the strong content at hand. The film is also shot in a creative manner by cinematographer Saket Gyani. It is laced with a number of impressive long one-take shots. The one that takes the cake is between Raghu and Parveen when both are riding their respective two-wheelers while conversing. The background score is minimally used, which goes with the nature of the film.