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Release
date:
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June 29, 2018
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Director:
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Rajkumar Hirani
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Cast:
Language:
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Ranbir Kapoor,
Paresh Rawal, Vicky Kaushal, Anushka Sharma, Sonam Kapoor, Dia Mirza, Jim
Sarbh, Manisha Koirala, Piyush Mishra
Hindi
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As Sanju opens, a chap called D.N. Tripathi reads aloud from a book he
has written on Bollywood star Sanjay Dutt to the man himself. In that passage,
Tripathi has drawn parallels between the lives of Bapu and Baba. It is a clever
line to take in a hagiography since Bapu, of course, is the father of the
nation Mahatma Gandhi, Baba / Sanju Baba is Dutt’s nickname, and the actor’s
most popular screen role till date has been of a modern-day Gandhi devotee. Far
from being flattered by the comparison, Dutt is appalled and throws Tripathi
out of the house.
Dutt/Baba is on the lookout for a
biographer, you see, and what this interaction conveys is that he wants to tell
the unadulterated, undiluted truth. The scene offers a precis of what Sanju wants you to believe it is: an
honest account of a controversial star. The fact though is that this is one
among many moments of insincerity in the film. Because Sanju, writer-editor-director Rajkumar Hirani’s biopic of Sanju
Baba, is anything but honest.
Sanju is the story of Sanjay Dutt,
Bollywood superstar, acclaimed actor, convicted criminal, son of the screen
legend Nargis and the much-respected actor-activist-politician Sunil Dutt. The
film skips Dutt Jr’s childhood and takes us through his work on his debut film,
his mother’s illness, his rocky relationship with his father, his alcoholism
and drug addiction, the allegations of involvement in the 1993 Mumbai bomb
blasts, his arrest under the draconian and now lapsed TADA, the acquittal on
terror charges and conviction under the Arms Act, his jailing and ultimate
release.
Hirani does all this through a
well-chosen narrative device: Sanjay Dutt trying to convince an acclaimed
London-based biographer called Winnie Diaz to make him her next subject, while
she parallelly investigates his claims about himself. The words are Dutt’s, but
hey, they are all being verified by Diaz, so you gotta buy into them. Right?
Wrong. Abhijat Joshi and Hirani –
who are credited with Sanju’s story,
screenplay and dialogues – have cherrypicked facts and bathed their selectiveness
in large doses of affectionate indulgence for their protagonist. For instance,
we are told that Dutt acquired three AK-56 rifles and bullets without a licence
out of fear for his Dad’s and his sisters’ safety following threats to Dutt Sr
for his missionary work among Muslim riot victims in 1992-93 in Mumbai. This is a claim Dutt had made on the record in real life. However, the film fails to
mention that he had also gone on the record to admit that he already owned
three licensed firearms which, he reportedly told the police, he purchased
because of his love for hunting. So why did he need any more weapons? (Note: he
later withdrew the latter statement.)
Messrs Hirani and Joshi play this
game throughout the film.
They are also wise in their
choice of issues they do not whitewash. For instance, they make no bones about
Dutt’s substance abuse, his sexual promiscuity, his unprofessionalism, his
irresponsible behaviour towards his parents and colleagues, and his lies in
these matters. But all this is portrayed in a cutesefied, comedified fashion to
a fandom that has already forgiven him for these widely known facts anyway,
each one carefully presented in such a manner as to elicit an “aww, cho chweet”
reaction from us.
The object of the film is
two-fold: to project Dutt as a misguided but well-intentioned man and all-round
nice guy, and to scapegoat others for his failings. So yes, he was not
committed to his work, but c’mon, what is bechara
Baba to do when he is under so much strain to match his father’s greatness? So
yes, he took drugs and alcohol, and no Ma’am, that was not okay, but c’mon, can
you really blame Baba when his work
stresses and personal traumas were compounded by that evil drug dealer who
tricked him into addiction? Yes, he bought firearms, but did we not tell you it
was because of his desire to protect his father and sisters, as any good Indian
mard should? And yes of course he
slept with hundreds of women and treated them lightly, but that is sho funny
and sho cute, na?
The most well-strategised choice
of scapegoat is the media, which is skewered in the closing song featuring
Ranbir Kapoor and the real Sanjay Dutt himself. For everything wrong that Baba
has done, the buck stops at the door of the lying press, according to the lyrics
of Baba bolta hain bas ho gaya. This
is a stroke of propagandist genius, because vast sections of the Indian media
are so disgraceful that it is tempting to cheer when a finger is pointed at
them for anything, even if our disgust for media sensationalism is being used
to quietly influence us into viewing a movie star’s misdemeanours, vices,
crimes and contemptible qualities with fondness.
Other facets of Dutt that are
conveniently papered over include his difficult relationship with his siblings
– Priya and Namrata are marginal, virtually dialogueless characters in Sanju – and his misogynistic,
patriarchal mindset. I guess because you cannot expect to drive an audience to
tears over Baba’s wish to bachao his behnas if you point out that their
equation is so troubled that when he married his current wife Manyata, sister
Priya Dutt appeared not to be aware of the development till the media asked her
for a reaction; or if you remind us that he once publicly snubbed Priya by
famously telling a newspaper reporter: “There is only one Mr and Mrs Dutt of Pali Hill (in Mumbai), and that’s Manyata and I. Girls who become part of a new
family after marriage must assume their new surname and all the
responsibilities that come with it.”
No doubt with the goal of painting
this portrait of virtue, his first marriage to Richa Sharma, who died of
cancer, is completely ignored. His second marriage finds no mention either.
Manyata Dutt, on the other hand, is presented as his only pillar of strength
once his father is gone and his best buddy leaves him.
How unfortunate that this should
come from Hirani, creator of the brilliant Munnabhai
films (both starring Dutt), in addition to 3
Idiots and PK, which, whatever
their flaws may have been, had very relevant points to make.
This is not to say that Sanju is a lost cause. Initially, when
its intent is not yet clear, it is often funny. There are several moving
portions right through the film, interestingly all of them involving the late
Sunil Dutt – perhaps because these are the only parts that come from a place of
genuineness (Duttsaab, from every available account, was indeed a great human
being, so the film is not lying about him) – and/or Baba’s friend Kamlesh
Kanhaiyalal Kapasi.
The latter is played by Vicky
Kaushal who is thoroughly convincing as the once innocent, now disillusioned
Kapasi. He is particularly wonderful in a drunken scene in which he begs the
father to understand the immense pressure his son is under because of the
larger-than-life figure he is expected to live up to, and to tell the boy that
it is okay to be ordinary.
Sonam Kapoor has not much to do
in Sanju, but is still sweet as the
girlfriend who gives up on Sanju Baba early on, understandably convinced that
he will never emerge from the depths of decadence he had already sunk to.
Anushka Sharma as Baba’s biographer Winnie Diaz has a decidedly unchallenging
role in which her charisma is wasted. Paresh Rawal has the film’s best-written
role, but is only okay as Sunil Dutt. A terribly miscast Manisha Koirala is
awkward as the barely-there Nargis.
Sanju belongs though to Ranbir Kapoor
who drowns out his own personality so completely in favour of the Baba persona,
that in that closing song when he appears as himself – slim, handsome and not
looking ravaged like his character – I had to remind myself that this is
actually what he looks like.
Kapoor’s turn as Sanju Baba rises
far beyond his physical transformation though. He delivers an immersive
performance, especially in scenes of emotional intensity when the script is not
using a farcical tone to soft pedal the hero’s life choices. But even this
gifted star cannot camouflage the reality of Sanju being little beyond a PR exercise for Sanjay Dutt (and
Manyata).
Rating
(out of five stars): **
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CBFC Rating (India):
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UA
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Running time:
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161 minutes 45 seconds
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A version of this review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanju
I read a review that put it best, to expect objectivity from this film (considering who made it and their relationship with the subject) is like ordering a vegetable biryani and complaining there was no meat in it. Throughout the promotional material I have seen, they have always maintained it is his story the way they see it and that they have taken an empathetic view. You may have been forced to order this vegetable biryani because of your profession, but then is it fair to judge it against a bar it was setting out to reach in the first place?
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