{"id":4926,"date":"2016-06-30T14:12:33","date_gmt":"2016-06-30T08:42:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=4926"},"modified":"2016-06-30T14:12:33","modified_gmt":"2016-06-30T08:42:33","slug":"gully-life-documentary-review-divine-vivine-fernandes-gully-rap","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?p=4926","title":{"rendered":"“Gully Life” Introduces Us to Vivian Fernandes, the Man Behind Divine"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

T<\/span>here\u2019s a moment in <\/p>Gully Life<\/span><\/i>, a new documentary offering an insight into Vivian Fernandes, the rapper behind \u201cDivine\u201d, that encapsulates precisely why Fernandes\u2019 origin story in the Indian rap<\/a> scene was sui generis. Near the 30-minute mark, Fernandes sits in the living room of his house next to his mother, Nathaline Fernandes. The camera trains its gaze on them and he reads out the question to her: What\u2019s the fondest memory you have of Vivian from when he was a kid? \u201cSalman Khan ko dekhta tha aur shirt nikalta tha (He used to watch Salman Khan and take off his shirt),\u201d she promptly answers before both of them break into peals of laughter. Fernandes acknowledges the memory and nods in approval, \u201cHaan, bahut bada Salman Khan fan tha (Yeah, I was a big Salman Khan fan).\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\n\nIn India, Salman Khan<\/a> fans are the easiest to dissect; they tend to believe in a display of masculinity that mirrors the testosterone-fuelled one championed by the aging superstar himself. In fact, the commercialised Punjabi rap that dominated the mainstream narrative until about a decade ago, arguably catered to these fans: They spoke of cars, girls, and the luxury of being a man\u2019s man. If Fernandes had borrowed from these influences when he started out as a musician, it\u2019d be considered natural progression. But as Divine, he built his reputation on emotional vulnerability instead, rapping about the struggles of growing up in a gully and missing his mother. (\u201cTeri maa tere paas mein, aur tu pyaar ki talaash mein\u201d go the <\/span>lyrics<\/span><\/a> of <\/span>Farak<\/span><\/i> ) This scene then, is emblematic of just how close Divine was to being yet another Indian rapper blending in a sea of rappers singing \u2013 as Zoya Akhtar puts it in the documentary \u2013 about \u201ccars, tits, and ass\u201d. It\u2019s also what shapes our collective sigh of relief at the realisation of how different Divine actually turned out to be.<\/span>\n\nDirected by Akshat Gupt and produced by Red Bull Media House, the 50-minute documentary takes a bare-boned approach with tracing the almost decade-long evolution \u2013 and the roadmap \u2013 of Divine and his music<\/a>. As is natural, and perhaps expected, <\/span>Gully Life<\/span><\/i> (it was reportedly in production for a year) plays out like a reel of Fernandes\u2019 greatest hits, dedicating generous amount of screen-time to the behind-the-scenes look at how <\/span>Mere Gully Mein<\/span><\/i> was put together and Divine\u2019s strength as a live performer. Much of the documentary unfolds as the rapper talks to the camera sitting on a terrace and is interspersed with cameo appearances by his friends, admirers, collaborators and fellow rappers, which include Udyan Sagar (Nucleya), Zoya Akhtar, Ranveer Singh, Phenom, Naezy, music journalist Amit Gurbaxani, DJ and co-director of the <\/span>Mere Gully Mein<\/span><\/i> video, Joel D\u2019Souza, and briefly, Sajeel Kapoor.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nThe maximum creative liberty that <\/span>Gully Life<\/span><\/i> envisions is an animated re-imagination of the rapper\u2019s abusive childhood with his alcoholic father (an anecdote that inspired the plot of Akhtar\u2019s <\/span>Gully Boy<\/span><\/i><\/a>) and later, his coming-of-age in the gullies of JB Nagar in Andheri East, where he lived with his maternal grandmother. For the most part, the documentary is unremarkable with its form or structure. Its insistence on playing by the books would have made for a glaring complaint in a lesser film, but in<\/span> Gully Lif<\/span><\/i>e, it\u2019s but a minor grievance, rescued by possibly, one of the most evocative underdog coming-of-age stories.\u00a0<\/span>\n

In the last decade, Divine has stopped being just a musician. Instead, he is now, a cultural commodity \u2013 a gully-bred Indian rap franchise.<\/blockquote>\nIt\u2019s impossible to view Fernandes\u2019 decision to stray as far away from the predetermined boundaries of \u201cIndian rap\u201d in isolation for it created a domino effect, whose reverberations are felt to this day. It immortalised \u201cgully rap\u201d in the canons of the Indian rap movement, opening the doors to myriad interpretations and deviations of Hindi rap, right from the familiar gangster rap to the curious, rewarding sounds of jazz rap. It also birthed Divine who has after fronting near-flawless collaborations (<\/span>Jungle Raja<\/span><\/i> with Nucleya and <\/span>Meri Gully Mein<\/span><\/i> with Naezy and Sez on the beat, for starters), a successful Hindi film (Singh admits how Fernandes would record the rap for him so that he could listen to it before recording it himself), a live band called Gully Gang, a hip-hop festival called <\/span>Gully Fest<\/span><\/a>, and an independent hip-hop record label called <\/span>Gully Gang Entertainment<\/span><\/a>, has stopped being <\/span>just <\/span><\/i>a musician. Instead, he is now, a cultural commodity \u2013 a gully-bred Indian rap franchise.\u00a0<\/span>\n\n