Bad Boy Billionaires and Serious Men: Ambition gone wrong in India

I watched two Netflix productions from India this week. The first was the three-part documentary Bad Boy Billionaires and the second was Serious Men. One about Indian tycoons who took big loans through both an over-optimistic and corrupt banking system as well as ran ponzi schemes. The other is about a lower-caste, struggling man trying to shoot for the stars by fraudulently projecting his son as a science and mathematics prodigy. The stories might seem different from each other, especially considering that one is based on facts and the other is fictional, but they aren’t. At the heart of these stories is huge ambition, which may not be bad in itself, if getting to the finish line didn’t involve whatever means necessary. That’s what is problematic.

First, Bad Boy Billionaires. It covers three Indian businessmen, each with one episode each. The first is Vijay Mallya, a liquor brand and later airline owner; the second is Nirav Modi, a jeweller who had a dizzying rise to fame and a descent as quick and the third is Subrata Roy, who started out by tapping the bottom of the pyramid with an investment scheme and went on to develop multiple business interests. Lack of checks in these companies, combined with a disorganised system (at the very least) meant that the damage control wasn’t done in time.

As a result, entrepreneurial animal spirits ran amok, proving to be quite disruptive for the Indian economy. For anyone who is interested in what’s going on with it, I’d highly recommend Bad Boy Billionaires. By no means does it reflect the entirety of the country or its economy. In fact, the tycoons have vehemently denied the charges against them, as would be expected, and the verdict is still out there. But it is still an important documentary, considering that the spectre of bad loans is still haunting India. After the pandemic, the number is sure to rise as businesses pull their shutters down.

According to a Reuters report, 15% of India’s total loans could be classified as bad debt by March 2021. The whole bad debt saga has been going on for longer than I can remember now. Policies have been put in place to correct the situation, credit worthiness checks have become tougher but the problem refuses to die. In fact, it is only poised to become bigger. I only hope that no other big corporation variety busts happen now.

Dismal economic conditions and rising unemployment will anyway add another layer of unbearable inequality to a country that doesn’t just have glaring class differences but centuries of caste oppression built into the system. The last thing India needs right now is the story of a mega rich businessperson who got uncontrollably possessed by a desire to amass more. It’s ultimately the taxpayer that ends up footing the bill for such unchecked activities, and when the little guy who’s diligently been filing his taxes is burdened unfairly at a sorry economic time, I’m just scared of how the story may eventually play out.

Which brings me to Serious Men. It is exactly the story about the little guy. The guy who was born in conditions so abject, he could barely afford an education. But he’s determined to rise by projecting his little son as a child prodigy. The game is played well and the father- son duo are able to get away with it as long as they are relatively obscure. This is an obscurity that comes from being so seemingly inconsequential to the system that no one really questions if it's for real.

Until the truth starts tumbling out. Yet, there’s sympathy for the character; and for those of us who know India will agree, it’s well placed. The film puts the spotlight on sharp income inequalities that can just not be ignored. Ayyan Mani, the protagonist is not just struggling economically, he is also from a low caste, which means he carries the burden of historical inability to improve conditions for himself and his family. 

Like in the case of this year’s Oscar winner for best film, Parasite, his scheming is uncomfortable. But unlike in Parasite, I did not struggle to sympathise with the family in question. Here the edge is much softer and the extent of scheming far smaller. Mani’s wife, for instance, is absolutely unaware of the ‘secret’ between her husband and son. And your heart goes out to her character who is the only real victim here. The end of course, isn’t a particularly happy one, but it’s dignified.

After watching both productions, that in itself felt good. Allowing ambition to trip them over has cost India’s big businessmen a lot, and that of course includes a cringeworthy loss of dignity. Roy, for instance, once had black ink thrown at him. Mallya has been branded a fugitive and Modi is in prison. Fictional as he might be, Mani had a quieter and far more respectable way out it would seem. 

India’s economy has grown fast which I think is part of the reason why there’s such a rush to capture a piece of the pie. But what happens in a situation where everyone starts ruthlessly aspiring big? It can’t be good. But thankfully, this is only one part of the India story. Maybe I’ll write more on another side the next time.