So yesterday when I left my lab late in the
evening, I followed my usual ritual of putting on my mp3 player and stuffing
the earphones in my, well, ears. The song it played was Fitoori, a song which
was taken from Bajirao Mastani's soundtrack, although not featured in the movie
itself. About an hour later, when I walked into my home, the song playing was
still Fitoori. At just under 4 minutes long, that is equal to approximately 15
replays. But that is the kind of hold this movie has on me ever since it came
out. First the trailer, then that ethereal homage to Mughal-e-azam and
Madhubala's pyaar kiya to darna kya magic set in the modern adaptation
of the sheesh mahal (Deewani Mastani), followed by the rest of the
music, and finally the film itself. I have always been an ardent admirer of the
Sanjay Leela Bhansali school of filmmaking, right from the critically acclaimed
Khamoshi, to the much maligned Saawariya, the
acclaimed-but-hardly-seen-by-a-single-soul Guzaarish, to his redemption
ticket at the box-office Goliyon ki rasleela: Ram-Leela. So naturally I
was bound to be excited when the maverick finally came out with his dream
project, 12 years in the making. Though the excitement might have been of a
more subtle, restrained variety, which comes with age. Especially though, as
after the slight disappointment with the unabashed, melodramatic tone of Ram-Leela,
this one seemed to signal a return to form for SLB, the director who gave us
one of TIME magazine's 10 best films of the millenium, and the best film of
that year (2002) worldwide (Devdas). And that is exactly what it turned
out to be.
It would be very easy to dismiss this film as
just a costume drama, replete with "over-the-top" action sequences,
costumes, sets and emotions, as indeed a few reviewers tried to do. SLB is a
director reviewers love to hate. Trashing his movies as over the top,
melodramatic, all gloss no substance, pretentious etc. provides them the
ultimate high, and makes them feel good about themselves. However, for a
change, they have been unusually kind and receptive of Bajirao, lavishing
it with well- deserved praise in all aspects - world-class production values,
set pieces, costumes, cinematography, music, direction and of course, the
acting. Even international reviewers, such as the reviewers of the Guardian, and Ms.Saltz of the NYT, have been very generous with their praise for this
magnum-opus, accepting it for what it is - a fine example of old-school
Bollywood story-telling, combined with production values at par with any
big-ticket Hollywood production.
Personally, for me the highlight of the film was
its most underrated aspect - the music. Universally praised and liked, it
hasn't been discussed as much as it needs to be. SLB, who helmed the music for
this one completely on his own like his last few ventures, deserves major props
for bringing classical music back to mainstream Bollywood. Right from the
opening kathak number, "Mohe rang do lal" – another homage to K. Asif
and Madhubala's spell-binding "Mohe panghat pe", the classical tone
is set for the entire movie. The way this number opens, with the sounds of chirping birds evoking early dawn, you realize you are in for a musical treat.
The setting of fountains and the grand old fort serve as the background for
Pandit Birju Maharaj's subtle choreography, brought to life by Deepika
Padukone's graceful swaying, all of which makes this number a visual
treat as well, and a major reason for why I could see this movie twice within a
week in theatres! This is followed by another highlight, the well-known Albela
Sajan, sung by a bunch of talented singers in a choir-like manner, a
significant feat for a classical song. The colourful song makes you joyously
celebrate the triumphant return of the victorious hero from battle. The less
said about Deewani Mastani, the better. This is a song which will go down in
history, just for the sheer artistry with which it has been conceived – a monochromatic
spectacle of brilliant choreography, cinematography, vocals, sets, costume and
performances. Shreya Ghoshal returns to top form with this album for the man
who unleashed her force in Bollywood with Bairi Piya. The only song I was apprehensive
about pre-release was Malhaari. The
boisterous number seemed far removed from the sedate world of Maratha Peshwas, and
Ranveer Singh’s dancing with animalistic fervour set to Vishal Dadlani’s
power-packed vocals did not seem to gel with the times it was set in. But all apprehensions
were set aside, as it assimilated beautifully in the movie, a battle cry celebrating
the all-conquering war prowess of the Marathas. You almost believe that a
peshwa could have danced like that with his soldiers. Same goes with Pinga.
Bhansali follows a sort of template in all his films, especially when it comes
to music. For instance, there is a customary song about the moon (chand chupa
badal mai, woh chand jaisi ladki, yoon shabnami…). So here too, we have a
Pinga, built on the same template set by Dola re …. Two women, rivals in love,
come together to celebrate their affection for the same man, with one
ultimately handing over the reins to the other. A lot of hue and cry was made,
open letters written by “activists” seeking their 15 minutes of fame
criticizing the concept of making a peshwani
bai dance with commoners, and the factual inaccuracy of a Kashibai
struggling with arthritis dancing energetically. However it was all forgotten
and the song was received favourably, compared incessantly to its predecessor,
and the two ladies pitted against each other – with Priyanka Chopra coming up on
top more often than not. The two gems on the album, Fitoori and Abb tohe jaane
na dungi are inexplicably not included in the film. Listening to the thumris, one can’t help but be hopeful
that the videos were shot and will see the light of the day somewhere down the
line. The latter has my favorite lyrics from the album:
Ek hai mannat, ek hai dua …
Dono ne ishq ki rooh ko chhua,
Daayein se pad, ya baayein se pad….
Farsh se arsh tak, ishq hai likha
Aayat,
another masterpiece by the omnipresent and overused Arijit Singh, follows the
template set by its far superior predecessor Lal Ishq from Ram Leela. Aaj
Ibadat, which only plays as the end credits roll out, beautifully brings
together Sanskrit hymns with Urdu poetry, and underlines the theme of religious
harmony preached by the movie boldly with double lines. In short, though SLB is
unlikely to win any awards for music direction, or any of the singers rewarded
for bringing his vision to life, they all undoubtedly deserve a thunderous
applause for these soulful, classical-based tunes, in my opinion, especially in
a year dotted with below average soundtracks. Read this completely to-the-point review of the album in the Hindu.
Both Ranveer Singh and Priyanka Chopra come up
with career-defining performances. Unfortunately, it is SLB’s muse, Mastani,
who seems to have drawn the short string in the bargain, coming across woefully
underwritten and unidimensional as compared to the other two protagonists. Deepika
Padukone already had a landmark performance last year with Piku, and here again
she gives an earnest performance. It’s the writing which lets her down.
Although it is easy to root for Priyanka’s dignified Kashibai, by virtue of her
being the simpleton, honest, jilted first wife, it is her incredible
performance that steals the show. She proves that you don’t need to fill every
frame of the movie to make an impact. Of her limited screen time, it takes her
just two scenes to stamp her presence across the movie – the one in which she
confronts Mastani and after giving her a piece of her mind, finally accepts her
on her own terms, and the much talked about guroor scene, where she shreds into
her husband’s infidelity by confronting him with all the dignity and self-respect
she can muster. You feel for her when a sick Bajirao mistakes her for Mastani,
and not for the lovelorn man on his death bed. You feel Kashibai's anguish through her, so well has she imbibed the character. This is a hundred steps beyond
Fashion, Barfi or any other performance of her illustrious career. The entire supporting cast, predominantly Tanvi Azmi, lives up to the expectations one has come to have from a SLB film.
This is only the second film ever that I paid twice to watch in a theatre, the first being Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara. While that one was more or less circumstantial, this time, it was completely voluntarily. And during the second watch, which was barely 2-3 days after the first one, not even once did I feel I that I have just seen it. It retained it's freshness for the most part, except the long-drawn out climax, which frankly, grew a little tiresome in the first watch itself. Even though it is not a flawless film, Bajirao is definitely the finest representative of everything that is good about the Bollywood cliche, has repeat value, and I suspect, and hope, that in absence of any quality opposition in the forseeable future, will have a long run at the theatres, finally reaffiriming SLB's box office credentials after Ram Leela.
This is only the second film ever that I paid twice to watch in a theatre, the first being Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara. While that one was more or less circumstantial, this time, it was completely voluntarily. And during the second watch, which was barely 2-3 days after the first one, not even once did I feel I that I have just seen it. It retained it's freshness for the most part, except the long-drawn out climax, which frankly, grew a little tiresome in the first watch itself. Even though it is not a flawless film, Bajirao is definitely the finest representative of everything that is good about the Bollywood cliche, has repeat value, and I suspect, and hope, that in absence of any quality opposition in the forseeable future, will have a long run at the theatres, finally reaffiriming SLB's box office credentials after Ram Leela.
