
2025 · Neeraj Ghaywan
For when you want a film that makes you care hard about two people and think about the systems around them — an emotionally serious evening, rewarding rather than easy. Reach for it when you want your heart engaged and your conscience too.
Two childhood friends from a small North Indian village — kept on the margins by caste and religion — pin their hopes on a police recruitment exam, chasing the uniform less for power than for the basic dignity it promises. As the goal gets closer and the obstacles multiply, desperation starts to strain the friendship that has carried them both. It's drawn from a real piece of New York Times reporting on migrant workers during the 2020 lockdown.
Patient, humane, and quietly wrenching — it builds its power through accumulation, letting you feel the weight of every small indignity and every flash of hope. The friendship at its center keeps it warm even as the world presses in.
Ishaan Khatter and Vishal Jethwa ground the film as the two friends, playing the bond — its ease, its jealousies, its debts — with unforced intimacy.
Neeraj Ghaywan, returning a decade after his acclaimed debut, adapts long-form journalism into fiction without losing its reported texture — the exam economy, the migrations, the daily negotiations of caste all feel documented rather than invented. The restraint is the craft: no speeches, just consequences.
Premiering in Un Certain Regard at Cannes 2025 to a warm reception, it marked a rare mainstream Indian production putting caste and communal exclusion at the center of the frame.
Homebound is the second feature by Neeraj Ghaywan, arriving a full decade after his acclaimed debut Masaan (2015). Adapted from a piece of long-form journalism by Basharat Peer published in The New York Times — a report on two young migrant workers from northern India during the 2020 pandemic lockdown — the film follows two childhood friends who pursue a coveted place in the police force as a route out of a life marked by caste and communal exclusion. It premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in 2025, where it screened in Un Certain Regard, the same sidebar that launched Ghaywan a decade earlier; the reception, by all reliable accounts, was warm, with a sustained standing ovation. The production drew significant attention for two facts of its backing: it was produced within the orbit of Karan Johar's Dharma Productions, one of Hindi cinema's most commercial mainstream houses, and it carried Martin Scorsese as an executive producer. It was subsequently selected as India's official submission for the Academy Award for Best International Feature. The film is, in short, a social-realist drama about friendship, dignity, and the intertwining of caste and religion in contemporary India, made at the unusual intersection of festival-arthouse sensibility and star-driven studio production.
The production history of Homebound is notable less for its scale than for its alignments. Ghaywan's Masaan had been an independent, festival-first film; Homebound instead pairs his authorial voice with Dharma Productions, the Johar family studio associated with glossy, romantic, upper-middle-class Hindi entertainment. That pairing is itself a piece of industrial history — a signal of mainstream Bombay cinema's periodic willingness to absorb and finance socially engaged, festival-oriented work, and of the increasing porousness between "indie" and "studio" Hindi filmmaking in the 2020s. The involvement of Martin Scorsese as executive producer is the other headline fact; his imprimatur functioned as both creative endorsement and a marker of the film's international festival ambitions. Beyond these well-reported facts, granular production detail — shooting schedule, budget, precise locations — is thin in the public record, and I will not invent figures. What can be said with confidence is that the film was mounted as a prestige title positioned for the international circuit from inception, and that its casting drew on established Hindi-industry names (Ishaan Khatter, Vishal Jethwa, and Janhvi Kapoor are the leads most consistently reported), lending a mainstream-recognizable face to material rooted in documentary reportage.
Homebound belongs to the era of digital capture that has been standard across Indian narrative filmmaking for more than a decade; there is no indication of any celluloid or unusual acquisition format, and the film's realist aesthetic is consistent with high-resolution digital cameras and available-light-leaning cinematography. The specific camera and lens packages are not something I can verify from the public record, and I will not fabricate a technical spec sheet. What is meaningful at the level of technology is negative rather than positive: the film conspicuously avoids the tools of spectacle that define its parent studio's usual output — no large-scale VFX, no elaborate song-picturization apparatus, no synthetic gloss. Its technological choices are subordinated to a documentary-adjacent realism, the camera and sound apparatus deployed to disappear rather than to dazzle.
Ghaywan's cinema is grounded in a humane, observational realism, and Homebound extends the visual grammar established in Masaan: landscape as moral geography, the small North Indian town and its dusty edges rendered with attention to texture, weather, and light rather than picturesque framing. The identity of the director of photography is not something I can confirm without risk of error — Masaan was shot by Avinash Arun, himself a director, but I cannot reliably attribute Homebound's cinematography, so I flag that credit as uncertain. What the finished film's visual approach communicates, on the evidence of its reception and Ghaywan's established method, is a preference for medium and long takes that let performance and environment breathe, a palette keyed to the ochres and greys of the rural and semi-urban north, and a camera positioned at human eye level — the framing of solidarity rather than surveillance.
The dramatic engine of the film is the slow tightening of desperation around a friendship, and that demands editing that resists the montage-driven acceleration of commercial Hindi cinema. The cutting logic, consistent with Ghaywan's mode, favors duration and the held reaction over coverage-heavy assembly; scenes are allowed to reach their emotional temperature before release. The specific editor is not something I can attribute with confidence, so I leave it unnamed rather than guess.
Staging is where the film's politics live most quietly. Ghaywan's method places caste and communal identity not in speeches but in the ordinary choreography of space — who sits where, who is served first, whose hand is or is not shaken, which doorways are open and which are not. The village, the exam hall, the roadside, and the rooms of family life become stages on which social hierarchy is enacted through blocking and proxemics. This is the tradition of showing rather than declaring, and it is the technique that most distinguishes Ghaywan from the didactic register that "issue" films can fall into.
The soundscape of a Ghaywan film tends toward the ambient and the restrained — the noise of place doing the work of atmosphere, dialogue kept close and unforced, music withheld until it can land with weight. I cannot reliably name the composer or sound team for Homebound and will not invent those credits; Masaan was scored in part by the band Indian Ocean, but I cannot carry that attribution forward to this film. What is safe to say is that the film's aural design, like its images, is disciplined toward realism rather than emotional underlining.
Performance is central. The film rests on the paired lead turns as the two friends — reported to be Ishaan Khatter and Vishal Jethwa — with Janhvi Kapoor in a significant role. The demand of the material is interiority: characters whose dignity is under constant, low-grade assault and who must register that pressure without melodramatic externalization. Ghaywan is a director of actors in the naturalist mode, drawing performances calibrated to the near-documentary texture of the world around them; the film's critical reception centered substantially on the conviction of these performances and their chemistry as friends whose bond is both the film's warmth and the site of its tragedy.
Homebound operates in the mode of social-realist tragedy. Its narrative is a two-hander built on a friendship placed under escalating economic and social strain, structured around a shared aspiration — the police job — that functions as both literal goal and metaphor for the dignity the two men have been denied. The dramatic irony is structural: the institution the friends chase as their ladder to respectability is itself an instrument of the state whose hierarchies have excluded them. Because the film derives from journalistic reportage about the 2020 migrant-labor crisis, its dramatic mode carries a documentary undertow — a sense that the fiction is answerable to a real event and real lives. The arc bends toward loss, and the film's power, per its reception, lies in earning that ending through accumulation of small humiliations and small tendernesses rather than through a single catastrophic turn.
The film sits within the contemporary Indian social-realist drama, a genre with deep roots (see Movement below) and a vigorous 2010s–2020s revival. More specifically it belongs to a cycle of Hindi films that foreground caste — long the great unspoken subject of mainstream Bombay cinema — as a central rather than incidental concern. Ghaywan has been among the most visible figures pressing this cycle forward, and Homebound extends it while braiding in the parallel subject of Muslim identity and communal marginalization, so that the film reads as a dual-axis account of exclusion. It also participates in a distinct sub-cycle: pandemic-and-migrant-crisis narratives drawn from the 2020 lockdown, one of the defining ruptures of recent Indian public life.
Neeraj Ghaywan is the film's authorial center, and his biography is inseparable from its concerns. He came up through the Hindi independent scene, notably as an assistant director in Anurag Kashyap's circle, before Masaan announced him at Cannes in 2015, where it won recognition in Un Certain Regard. Ghaywan is openly Dalit and has spoken publicly, over years, about caste representation and the near-absence of Dalit perspectives behind the camera in Hindi cinema — a stance that gives his authorship a documented ethical throughline rather than a marketing posture. His method is patient, actor-forward realism in which political meaning is embedded in behavior and space. On Homebound he is credited as director and, on the reported record, as the principal creative author of the adaptation from Basharat Peer's New York Times reportage; Peer's journalism is thus the essential source text. Regarding key below-the-line collaborators — cinematographer, composer, editor — I have deliberately declined to name individuals I cannot verify, because the reliable public record on this film's full technical crew is, at the vantage point of this account, genuinely thin, and inventing attributions would betray the film's own commitment to the factual.
The film descends most directly from India's parallel cinema tradition — the socially engaged, realist counter-current associated with figures such as Satyajit Ray, and more pointedly with the New Indian Cinema of the 1970s and its attention to the rural poor and the caste order. Its more immediate lineage is the Hindi independent revival of the 2000s–2010s — the milieu around Anurag Kashyap and Dibakar Banerjee and the wave of gritty, location-shot, star-skeptical filmmaking that reintroduced realism to Bombay cinema. Within that, Ghaywan represents a specifically Dalit-authored strand, one of the significant developments in twenty-first-century Indian national cinema. Homebound's distinctive position is that it delivers this tradition through the machinery of a mainstream studio and onto the international festival stage, a convergence that is itself a statement about where Indian art cinema can now be made.
The film is a work of the mid-2020s that looks back to the acute rupture of 2020: the COVID-19 lockdown and the migrant-labor exodus that became one of the era's defining images of Indian inequality. That setting is not incidental period dressing but the film's historical engine — the moment when the precarity of the marginalized was rendered brutally visible on the nation's highways. As a 2025 production, it also belongs to a period in which streaming and international co-financing had reshaped the Indian prestige-film economy, and in which caste had — haltingly, contentiously — become a subject mainstream cinema could no longer entirely avoid.
The governing theme is dignity: the human need for it and the social machinery that withholds it. Around that core the film organizes several intertwined subjects — caste, as lived humiliation and structural ceiling; communal identity, through a Muslim protagonist whose belonging is perpetually conditional; friendship, as both refuge from and casualty of systemic pressure; and aspiration, in which the state's own institutions become the ambivalent object of longing. The pandemic-and-migration frame adds the theme of the body in transit — the long walk home as literal ordeal and as metaphor for a belonging that is always just out of reach. The title itself, Homebound, carries this doubleness: home as destination and home as the place one is bound to, in both senses of the word.
Critically, Homebound was received as a confirmation of the promise of Masaan and as one of the most significant Indian films of its year. Its Cannes premiere in Un Certain Regard drew a strongly favorable response and a standing ovation, and its selection as India's official entry for the Academy Award for Best International Feature installed it, within months of release, as a title of national significance. I decline to cite specific review scores or box-office figures, which I cannot verify and which would in any case matter less than the film's positioning. Looking backward, the influences on the film are legible: Peer's New York Times reportage as literal source; the parallel-cinema and New Indian Cinema traditions of social realism; the Hindi indie realism of the Kashyap school in which Ghaywan trained; and Ghaywan's own Masaan as the template for his humane, place-rooted method. The presence of Scorsese as executive producer invites, at minimum, an interpretive frame of world-cinema humanism, though I would not overstate any direct stylistic transfer. Looking forward, the film's legacy is still forming and any claim about what it will shape is necessarily provisional; but its most likely historical importance is as a landmark in the mainstreaming of caste-centered, Dalit-authored storytelling within commercial Hindi cinema, and as evidence that a major studio and an international festival can jointly underwrite work of this kind. If it endures in the canon, it will be as the film that carried the parallel-cinema conscience into the studio system without surrendering it.
Lines of influence