Post-credits scene musings: How else can “Crew” justify spotlighting GoIbibo before Tabu, or giving Yardley perfume more screen time than Kriti Sanon? Hindi films of a particular ilk often reveal their nature even before they commence. Disregarding cinematic impact and artistic integrity, the opening credits lay bare all the guest appearances while inundating viewers with brand logos—rare is the Indian actor willing to forego credit, and rarer still the producer who can resist a lucrative brand deal. It’s evident that “Crew,” perhaps the most influencer-driven Hindi film in recent memory, allows corporate interests to steer its creative decisions. This alignment would be benign if it didn’t directly contradict the movie’s central theme: the empowerment of middle-class women against a wealthy business magnate.
Geeta, Jasmine, and Divya Rana, hailing from Haryana, portrayed by Tabu, Kareena Kapoor Khan, and Kriti Sanon respectively, serve as flight attendants for the fictional Kohinoor Airlines, reminiscent of the now-defunct Kingfisher Airways. Struggling with months of unpaid wages, they scrape by on dwindling daily allowances, akin to receiving “boondi” at a temple. Despite their individual aspirations compromised by their employment at Kohinoor, they persist. Jasmine, from a fractured family, dreams of providing her grandfather a better life; Geeta harbors hopes of launching a restaurant in Goa with her spouse; and Divya perpetuates the falsehood of being a pilot to her beleaguered parents.
Their lives take a bizarre turn when a senior colleague, succumbing to a comedic demise mid-flight, reveals concealed bars of gold. It’s unveiled that he’d orchestrated a smuggling operation for years, clandestinely enriching himself while the airline teeters on collapse due to the owner’s financial misdeeds. Faced with imminent closure and dire financial straits, the trio decides to seize control of their destiny. Geeta’s offhand, classist observation—”Bees saal baiyon ki tarah kaam kiya“—echoes their collective frustration, having endured exploitation for years.
Despite familial responsibilities and personal dreams, societal constraints hinder their agency. Initially intoxicated by their newfound wealth, their euphoria dims when they realize unwittingly funding their unscrupulous boss, perpetuating their colleagues’ misery. Overwhelmed by guilt, they devise a daring plan to reclaim ill-gotten gains and redistribute the wealth to those wronged, echoing themes reminiscent of “Jawan” albeit with a glossier veneer and fewer admonitions against smoking.
Despite its anti-capitalist rhetoric, Crew paradoxically embodies a commercial product itself. How else can one rationalize GoIbibo receiving prominence before Tabu? Or the conspicuous inclusion of Wow Momos in an establishing shot? The presence of a Yardley perfume bottle overshadowing Sanon in Divya Rana’s introduction from Haryana, or the overt BoAt branding in the climactic music video, seems less a showcase of star power and more akin to Aman Gupta’s personal fantasy.
Even influencers adeptly integrate brands into their content, suggesting that a film supposedly centered around the song “Choli Ke Peeche” could have handled its contractual obligations more subtly. Consider director Luca Guadagnino’s deft execution of brand placements in Challengers, a film possibly more inundated with them than Crew. Yet, each reference—whether to Applebee’s, Adidas, Aston Martin, or Augustinus Bader—serves to enrich Challengers’ narrative about social climbers and ambition. Contrary to distracting from the storyline, product placement in Challengers enhances it.
While Michael Bay’s ostentatious display of Victoria’s Secret banners in action scenes or Transformers’ abrupt cuts to Bud Light cans serve their commercial purpose, Crew, like The Boys or Barbie, critiques corporate power while existing within the commercial framework. This studio filmmaking approach isn’t inherently flawed; it serves its purpose. However, watching Crew can feel like indulging in a Maharaja Mac while dissecting the Communist Manifesto—a juxtaposition of consumerism and revolutionary ideology.