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Release
date:
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April 17,
2019
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Director:
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Abhishek Varman
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Cast:
Language:
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Alia Bhatt, Varun
Dhawan, Madhuri Dixit, Aditya Roy Kapur, Sonakshi Sinha, Sanjay Dutt, Kunal
Kemmu, Hiten Tejwani, Kiara Advani, Kriti Sanon
Hindi
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Between one and two million
people are believed to have been killed and 15 million displaced from their
homes in the brutal aftermath of India’s Independence and Partition. Hindus and
Sikhs murdered Muslims at the time, Muslims murdered Hindus and Sikhs, women of
each community were raped, and property burnt down or stolen as human beings
turned to savages in one of the bloodiest tragedies in the subcontinent’s
history. There were devils and decent people on all sides, and though
nationalists on both extremes would have us believe otherwise, no one group has
a right to claim sainthood or even the status of the lesser evil or to
exonerate itself of the havoc wrought in that period.
It takes a particularly
monumental level of opportunism or apathy though, at a time when India’s
Muslims are being demonised by the ruling right-wing establishment and its
majoritarian Hindu supporters, to tell a Partition-era story in which Muslims
are the perpetrators of all violence and manipulation, while Hindu
characters are painted in gentle, pastel shades. Yet it is in this scenario, in
2019, that writer-director Abhishek Varman and his producers have chosen to
bring us Kalank.
In the film’s final shot, as the
camera closes in on her pristine face, the voice of Roop (played by Alia Bhatt)
places the onus on the viewer for what we see in the story: positivity or
negativity, mohabbat (love) or kalank (stigma, stain). The point being
made is that it is up to us.
Pish-posh and a ton of tosh! At
least take responsibility for what you are doing, Team Kalank. Sure, yours is a love story on the face of it. But it is a
love story steeped in symbolism that wittingly or unwittingly, either
intentionally or in its bid to play safe, ends up playing into the hands of a
divisive dominant public discourse.
The ball is set rolling on the
eve of Independence when Satya (Sonakshi Sinha) discovers that she is dying and
decides to steer her beloved husband Dev Chaudhry (Aditya Roy Kapur) towards
love of another woman. Enter: Roop.
Matters work out in such a way
that Roop marries the wealthy Dev even while Satya is alive. He is a nice guy,
dedicated to his family-owned newspaper and the idea of preserving India as an
undivided nation. He is also honest with Roop about his devotion to Satya, and
promises her respect but not love.
The Chaudhrys are residents of
Husnbad where the Muslim population, represented by a politician played by
Kunal Kemmu, laments the fact that though they are the majority they live as if
they are a minority. Roop heads to the town’s Muslim quarters, evidently less
privileged than hers, where she meets the tawaif Bahaar Begum (Madhuri Dixit)
and the Casanova Zafar (Varun Dhawan).
You know already from the trailer
that Roop falls in love with Zafar, but there is a lot more brewing below the
surface than meets the eye. As politics, economics and inter-personal rancour
mingle, lives are destroyed and nothing will be the same again.
In Kalank’s scheme of things, Roop symbolises undiluted goodness, a
young Mother India figure of sorts over whom everyone is fighting, torn between
love/passion and duty, somehow always staying on the righteous path, never
meaning anyone harm, an innocent victim of her circumstances. Dev is pure as
the driven snow, a man fighting for the greater good of the country even while
his combustible Muslim antagonist worries about what is presented as petty
personal interests. Whether by intent or unthinkingly is not clear, but Kalank’s screenplay serves to project
big business as the saviour of the nation while self-employment and small
enterprise are treated as dispensable for a higher purpose.
Zafar stands for the embittered
but golden-hearted Muslim, who is transformed by the power of love.
In the midst of a spectacular
performance by Bhatt, Dhawan’s sensitive turn as Zafar, and Dixit’s stately,
statuesque presence, woven around those stunning costumes, extravagant sets,
lavishly choreographed dance sequences and some pleasant music by Pritam,
lies a tale that even while speaking of the strength of love versus hatred,
still does precisely what Mani Ratnam’s Tamil film Bombay got away with doing over two decades back: it takes sides
while not appearing to do so.
A betrayal by a Hindu character
(Sanjay Dutt) is the reason for the domino effect of resentment that consumes
everyone in Kalank. He is a token
presence thrown in to counter naysayers. There is no escape though from the
larger picture on this canvas on which every lie, every instance of
politicking, every act of aggression, violence and bloodletting comes from a
Muslim.
This is especially disappointing
because in the film’s early scenes there is more than one mention – intelligent
and well thought out – of Hindu and Muslim social practices that mirror each
other although Muslims alone are stereotyped for it. The insightful
ruminativeness of those moments gives way to the one-sidedness of the rest.
It is important to mention that Kalank is no Padmaavat. Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s 2018 release was ugly,
overt and unapologetic about its Islamophobia. Varman – who debuted with the
vastly superior Two States – has
given Kalank a quieter tone and a
sweet Muslim hero. In some ways, however, this makes his film arguably more
harmful because it is drawn up in such a way as to lower even a concerned
viewer’s antennae despite the hate-filled socio-political reality in which we
find ourselves.
It is tempting to not think of
the troubling, damaging politics of Kalank
because it is fronted by such a likeable cast and comes in such pretty
packaging. There is nothing pretty though about the lack of nuance in its
portrayal of Hindu-Muslim equations and the lasting image from this film of the
ferocious Muslim who destroys not just the other but also his own in pursuit of
a cause.
Rating (out
of five stars): *3/4
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CBFC Rating (India):
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UA
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Running time:
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168 minutes
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This review has also been published on Firstpost:
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