Movie Review or My weekend III: Rang De Basanti

See how much I have to write that my 1.5 day weekend needed to be cut into 3 parts! (I'm also sorry to subject you to so much verbal diarrhoea!)

I really wish I had seen the movie as early as possible. But thankfully, I resisted the temptation to read the reviews or anyone’s blog regarding it, except that I mistakenly stumbled upon saltwater blues’ blog and had no idea he was giving away the entire plot! (scroll down to the Monday, January 30, 2006 entry) I seem to be jinxed with movie endings!

And now, I write this review 3 days later. I wonder what the result will be. In a way, I wish I had written it on Sunday night itself, fresh from the exhilarating experience that it is, whatever else your feelings on the movie may be, (as they are many and varied – check out Gaurav Sabnis’s blog and the links he put up). But the haze of visual delight has slowly cleared and it now seems to me to be a rather simplistic movie, with its faults. While it does have a message that most of us already do believe in, though its one that seems to overwhelming to many of us, it does trace the causes and effects beautifully and the characters do take responsibility for their actions.

The entire experience is sheer poetry, and the images and pregnant pauses throughout give you the impression that you’re watching a play. The sketches of the protagonists of Sue’s dream film come alive in the protagonists of the movie, and the fusion is smooth and seamless, both visually, auditorially (whats the word???) and histrionically, except in the end when our youthful rebels become revolutionaries. Then it seems a bit forced. But to start from the beginning. Never, except in the case of Dil Chahta Hai, which this movie creates a lot of comparison with, as both depict youth, has just being lukha been portrayed so well! Normally it’s boring to watch other people have fun or so inane things, but the lively protagonists just make you relive your college days, or let you believe that you had this much fun as well! Of course, there is the little itch in their backside in the form of the excellent actor Atul Kulkarni playing an idealistic right-wing youth party member, worshipping his leader and hating Muslims etc. And there is also the conservative Chandni Chowk-living Kunal Kapoor’s character Aslam’s family who think he’s being a wastrel hanging out with his boozy friends. For a long time, our RSS/VHP type has an issue with Aslam’s religion, well, just because embedded stereotypes are hard to change. And Aslam and Karan (Siddharth) are my favourite characters in the film, because I identify a bit with Karan and Aslam is the kind of guy I would feel safe and reassured around! Plus he’s HOTTTTTT!!!! Madhavan is also cute as hell and a refreshing mature balance to the rest of the guys’ antics. Whoever says he doesn’t fit… poooh!!!!!

The second half moves rapidly, which many seem to have taken objection to. But I think it fits in with the impulsiveness and spontaneity of the actors and their actions. The political scenes, though naïve, and objectionable for a functioning democracy like ours, however do serve their purpose. Even a political unpadh gavar like me knows that the government has no right to violently disperse peaceful procession or gatherings (which is what the demonstration in relation to the pilot’s death was). The Jallianwala Baug parallels were beautiful, but definitely a little incongruous in reality. The lathi charge was unspeakably violent, and totally uncalled for. (However apparently if you ask for permission to protest the police can deny it. Huh?) But it was beautiful - the physical and mental disillusionment Kulkarni’s character feels when he discovers the political intrigues that have no room for common people who are not strategically important, the ideological web that is woven round and round blinding the followers but not the leader - all to pad a few pockets – that scene was stunning.

The way the rebels transform into martyrs before their actions made me uncomfortable because while the basic reason was to seek justice, there was a great difference in the reflection and strategy required in each. It was almost as though they were absolving themselves of responsibility and becoming someone else, which an awakening of consciousness doesn’t need to do.

But I did like that they took responsibility for their actions. On radio, what they said wasn’t as simplistic as ‘you should not do what we did’. They were very aware that they could be jailed. And while violence sometimes sends nations a wake-up call, it should not continue to be a part of constructive change proceedings. Their action was noble in its own right. And unfortunately people do not see intentions, but actions. You don’t have to change the system. You have to change yourself – each individual – and the system automatically changes. They wouldn’t have confessed if the minister was not being portrayed as a martyr and giving the nation an excuse to start a war. They confessed to prevent more karmic wrongdoing on the system’s part. ( I know that sounds cheesy but still).

What was unnecessary, but probably just creative license to prove a point, was the totally violent, uncalled for, negative reaction by the government. However much of a personal vendetta any minister/party may have against any individual and want them murdered, he is still repsonsible to the general public for his actions. If he wanted them killed, he could have engineered it in a more subtle manner. (that is not to say that killing anyone is permissible, and it doesn't accomplish anywhere close to the long-term good that constructive mutual dialogue can create). What minister of a democracy would have someone murdered in full view of the entire nation, via radio and Television? That state is no longer a democracy but an authoritarian state. And the sad but true part is, that is often takes an event of this dastardly nature to awaken a slumbering national consciousness.

Veering off on a tangent, can someone tell me why we weren't taught about Bhagat Singh et al in school? We were taught about Gandhi and various episodes of his life in various subjects, about the Moderates and the extremists and a sentence or two about Subhash Chandra Bose, and a paragraph on the Great Revolt of 1857, but what about our shaheeds? Why is a sense of patriotism and gratitude to our martyrs not instilled in us? No one's asking us to be fanatic types, but no wonder we are an apathetic bunch.

There are some exquisite moments of irony in the film. That Alice Patten’s character, Sue, an Englishwoman must teach these young turks, if you will, the history of the freedom movement of their country, to introduce them to a questionably more constructive form of rebellion than the irresponsible kind they are currently engaging in, is one I was snorting at throughout. Does all our passion and inspiration only come outside? Why is yoga cooler now that the whole world does it? Why do we take pride in our culture, history, heritage only when outsiders (mostly white) fawn over it? Is everything Indian for Indians only a business/ass-getting strategy? Another moment occurs when Sonia, Soha Ali Khan Pataudi’s character, is trying on green bangles when she sees the news about her fiancé Ajay, getting killed in the MiG-21 crash. There are others, but I forget.

The irony also plays its role in the music, which the directors rightly say is the soul of the film. The piano playing and soothing music during the death and violence scenes in the memory of Sue’s grandfather add a sense of surrealness and solemnity to the power that history evokes. The rest of the music is simply, vibrant, feisty, colourful and carefree. Most of them have a rock base, like Ru-ba-ru, Masti ki Pathshala (lose control), Khalbali, to echo the sentiments of idealistic college students who just want to have a good time, in the menagerie of relationships, politics, money, music, art, dreams, that constitutes a teenager’s life. The only soft/romantic song during the airfield scene after Ajay’s proposal to Sonia is lost in the visuals and the sensation of wind and exuberance. The title song is typical Punjabi with Daler Mehndi’s vocals, colourful bhangra visuals, complete and total joie-de-vivre!

All in all, the movie is a treat, and NOT as simplistic as it looks… and at the same time, it’s the thing we’ve taught ever since we’ve been kids. Be good. Be honest. Be kind. That’s all.

Here are the words of the powerful poem by Ramprasad Bismil during the freedom struggle.

Hai liye hathiyaar dushman taak mein baitha udhar
aur hum taiyyaar hain seena liye apna idhar
khoon se khelenge holi gar vatan muskhil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai
haath jin mein ho junoon katt te nahi talvaar se
sar jo uth jaate hain voh jhukte nahi lalkaar se
haath jin mein ho junoon katt te nahi talvaar se
sar jo uth jaate hain voh jhukte nahi lalkaar se
aur bhadkega jo shola-sa humaare dil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai
hum to ghar se nikle hi the baandhkar sar pe qafan
chaahatein liin bhar liye lo bhar chale hain ye qadam
zindagi to apni mehmaan maut ki mehfil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai
dil mein tuufaanon ki toli aur nason mein inquilaab
hosh dushman ke udaa denge humein roko na aa
duur reh paaye jo humse dam kahaan manzil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai - 2
dekhna hai zor kitna bazuen qatil mein hai.

I definitely want to watch it again.

It's just a lovely coincidence that this movie was released right after the Right To information Act was instituted!