To buy into it, you must be as naïve as Subbu-who develops feelings because Darling, her roommate, helps her when sick, and later, makes her a thengaai barfi. It’s impossible to shake off the notion that the film likes him, even if it wants us eventually to buy that it stands against him. When Darling cons his friends, or worse, maims them, the film advertises this as comedy. Subbu, interestingly, tells Darling, “People like you who come to the big city, romanticise even innocuous relationships.” When Darling, yet again, chooses silly aggression over common sense by threatening a lawyer, the film, with its music, celebrates this as a gesture of machismo.
When Darling is nice to her, the film romanticises his decency. When Darling ogles at the heroine, Subbu (Divyabharathi), the camera too does this, introducing us to the woman’s posterior first. I might have got on board, had the film’s creative choices not betrayed a desire to ingratiate itself with the ‘youth audiences’ at the cost of its subject matter. The film seems to believe-under the mistaken assumption that duration is detail-that it is a revealing three-hour portrait of this toxic, chauvinistic man-and that it stands against him. He urinates on laptops, endangers friends with reckless riding, barely goes to work, lies to friends, ogles at women, gets petulant when he won’t get immediate sex… I could go on. Darling (GV Prakash Kumar) in Bachelor is hardly a darling-the name, an evident attempt at a joke.
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