Peepli [Live] is a funny but deeply tragic story of that 24x7 beast who demands a daily sacrifice. Once you enter its lair — the camera lens — it doesn’t let go till it has sucked every last TRP-worthy drop. The film peers at the world of television news as it gyrates on the axis of egos and TRPs, and then slowly, while cracking ironic jokes and maaroing some sarcastic ones, peels off the masks of all its feigning moralists.
In Mukhya Pradesh’s Peepli village lives Natha Das Manikpuri (Omkar Das Manikpuri), with his wife Dhaniya (Shalini Vatsa), three children, elder brother Budhia (Raghuvir Yadav), and their invalid Amma (Farrukh Jaffer).
Natha, with dirty curls and a pudgy nose, is a dreamer. He doesn’t speak much, just bumbles behind Budhia. Budhia has a thing for desi sharab, Natha for hard-boiled eggs.
A bank loan has to be repaid if they want to retain their farmland. The brothers approach Bhai Thakur (Sitaram Panchal), key man of the ruling Samman Party in Peepli. Thakur jokingly suggests a solution: Government offers Rs 1 lakh compensation to families of farmers who commit suicide. Budhia says I will commit suicide and save baap-dada ki zameen. Natha says, “No I will.” Budhia says, “Pucca?”
Cut to ITV News’ studio in Delhi where Nandita Malik (Malaika Shenoy) is interviewing Union agriculture minister Salim Kidwai (Naseeruddin Shah). A lovely scene here establishes the relationship between celebrity anchors and Delhi VVIPs. Next we move to Hindi news channel Bharat Live where TRP figures rule. Here Kumar Deepak (Vishal O. Sharma), their star reporter, confirms vernacular TV’s proximity to regional politicians.
Meanwhile, in Peepli, Budhia is extolling the virtues of suicide to ensure that Natha doesn’t change his mind. Rakesh, a local reporter, stumbles upon Natha’s suicide plan. A story is published, the state administration is in a tizzy because Peepli falls in chief minister Ram Yadav’s (Yugal Kishore) constituency. Some urgent administrative steps are taken (this is a delightful scene, so I won’t spoil your fun) that cruelly mock the brothers’ desperation.
Supercilious Nandita arrives in Peepli, uses Rakesh as her minion, and breaks “live suicide” story. Kumar Deepak rushes in, followed by every news channel. Reporters take over Natha’s house, ask him questions. Natha doesn’t say a word. But TV reporters, ventriloquising Natha’s feelings, keep the “breaking story” going. A media centre is set up and a mela ensues — there’s bottled water, instant coffee, giant wheels, candy floss.
Soon, politicians start trickling in, some bearing gifts, others shouting promises. Some say Natha’s is a virtuous sangharsh, others say it’s a crime. There are candlelight vigils, a PIL. Gifts are given, withdrawn. Suicide is on, off, on again... Then suddenly, while Kumar Deepak’s camera is zooming in on Natha taking a dump, Natha disappears. One blast, one body. Is it Natha’s?

Director Anusha Rizvi’s Peepli [Live] is short and yet it packs in a lot. It is a witty but scathing comment on several things, including asinine government schemes and systems for garib kisan and the politics of agriculture. But, most importantly, it is a hysterical and harsh look at Indian news television.
The film tells the story of how our bumptious English news channels, with their accented diction and worldview, and their raving country-cousins, the Hindi (and regional) channels, have completely altered the dynamics of a game that till now involved only the politician, bureaucrat and aam aadmi. How its daft intervention triggers knee-jerk reactions, often to disastrous effect; and how life sometimes takes its cue from a “breaking story”.
Anusha’s story, inspired by Meet John Doe/Main Azaad Hoon and Deepti Naval-starrer Kamla, cleverly creates a comical but plausible situation involving farmers in debt. In this part of the journey we have a jolly good time. We are amused and care a great deal for Natha because his tormentors are our tormentors — wily politicians and numb bureaucrats. The film’s emotional core squats smilingly in the sun-baked mud verandah of Natha and Budhia’s house.
But when TV reporters arrive and the film acquires an exciting kinetic energy, our laughter at its jokes is a little less robust. That’s because we, the TRP-generators, are now accomplices of the 24x7 beast. The TV channels’ and our alienation with Natha and his world here is monumental, deeply disturbing.
All this sounds serious, and it is. Yet the film’s entertainment quotient is high. Higher still is Anusha’s deftness in telling a sad story without schmaltz. Peepli... is certified “A” because its villagers smoke reefers and use bad language, all to hysterical effect. All characters in Peepli... are fascinating. But Anusha has clearly poured her heart out in creating news anchors inspired by a certain lady and a certain gent. This aspect, though devilishly engaging, has the stench of settling a personal score and made me queasy.
Malaika Shenoy has carefully studied the muse for her character, down to frantic gestures and the morally-wounded tone. But I didn’t care much for her Nandita. She’s exaggerated, affected. Vishal O. Sharma, on the other hand, doesn’t look like he’s acting. Every single scene with his Kumar Deepak is delightful. My favourite is the tatti sequence.
The film stars actors from late Habib Tanvir’s Naya Theatre and all of them are fabulous. Though Omkar Das Manikpuri’s Natha hardly speaks, this character is iconic. Raghuvir Yadav has given a lovely performance and sung a song that touches a nerve. Farrukh Jaffer’s Amma, who abuses and smokes beedis, is hugely entertaining. Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Sitaram Panchal are exceptional.
Peepli’s music is great, lyrics even better. The dialogues, full of crude idioms and references to rupturing body parts, are brilliant. Cinematographer Shanker Raman captures the heat and dust, grime and sweat and quirks of dehaat to create a world that lingers on in your mind long after you’ve left the hall. Full marks to producer Aamir Khan for investing in this gem.