Release date:
|
July 6, 2016
|
Director:
|
Ali Abbas Zafar
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Salman Khan,
Anushka Sharma, Amit Sadh, Anant Sharma, Kumud Mishra, Randeep Hooda,
Parikshit Sahni, Meiyang Chang, Kubra Sait, Shibani Dandekar
Hindi
|
Khoon mein tere mitti
Mitti mein tera khoon
Khoon mein tere mitti
Mitti mein tera khoon
Upar Allah
Neeche dharti
Beech mein tera junoon
Re Sultan
(Tune: Vishal-Shekhar,
Words: Irshad Kamil, Voices: Sukhwinder Singh, Shadab Faridi
)
These lyrics from Sultan’s title track exemplify what
makes this film tick: the director’s ability and unabashed willingness to tug
at the heart strings – tap into every available emotion in the viewer, our
patriotic pride, our soft spot for the underdog – yet not overplay its hand.
Despite its bow to
a number of formulae, in many other ways this is an unusual Bollywood offering.
It is, for
instance, that uncommon Hindi film in which the hero offers an unqualified
apology to the heroine. Rub your eyes in disbelief all you wish, but it is
true: from an industry that usually derides women who do not unblinkingly
forgive every manner of male transgression because after all it is “ek hi bhool” (just one mistake; read:
not a big deal), this too has now happened.
From an industry
that avoids giving us protagonists from minority communities without making
their religion and socio-cultural milieu a focal point of the plot, where followers
of Islam are usually present with the specific – no doubt, often noble –
purpose of depicting political tensions or spreading a message of communal
amity (sometimes to good effect, as with Bajrangi
Bhaijaan, and sometimes in an exasperatingly trite fashion), where
minorities almost never just happen to be because they happen to be, this here
is a film where both central characters are Muslims, they have many Hindu
associates and friends, yet after a point one barely notices. Not a single shot
of a temple is seen nor a single call of the muezzin heard nor a single speech
delivered to drive home a point, thus reminding us gently without drumbeats and
trumpet sounds that minority communities need not be mere narrative devices,
that majority-minority associations happen routinely without blaring
announcements and that a lesson on secularism need not be stated in black and
white to be heard.
These are important
asides in Ali Abbas Zafar’s Sultan,
the story of a wrestler who quits the sport after a personal tragedy, but
returns to it for the very reason he left. Sultan Ali Khan (Salman Khan) is a
popular but aimless young man in a Haryana village who helps his father run his
cable TV business. One day when he sees local girl Aarfa Hussein (Anushka
Sharma), who is the state wrestling champion, it is, as is often the case in
Hindi films, love at first sight for him. Sultan takes up wrestling to impress
her and ends up excelling. Aarfa too succumbs to his charms, but they split up
not long after and Sultan retires from the arena. His return and his motivation
to do so are what this film is about.
Sultan has a fair share of follies. The male lead’s
immaturity is believable, but it is disappointing to see the lack of
inventiveness employed in writing the early stages of the Sultan-Aarfa romance:
‘boy’ sees girl, ‘boy’ falls for girl, ‘boy’ chases girl, girl shows irritation
but then they become friends and she falls in love.
What makes the
courtship truly seem silly is that the ‘boy’ – a mere 30 in the first half of
the film – is played by a 50-year-old star. Khan stopped
looking 30 about 21 years back. The casting of a 28-year-old actress as his
lover merely emphasises this point. Why, dear Bollywood, cannot 50-year-old
men play 50-year-old men?
The couple’s earliest
encounters are the least imaginative, most troublesome part of this film.
Remember the unlettered Kalidas who, according to folklore, was driven to
educate himself by the insults of his bride, and went on to become the
legendary author we know? That story has been retold repeatedly down the
decades in Hindi cinema, and carried over into a conviction that women do not
reject the advances of men politely but always with taunts; and that there is
no greater force than a woman’s contempt to drive a man to great heights.
Despite these flaws
and several clichés, Sultan has an
emotional core that is hard to resist. Writer-director Zafar is clever in the
way he uses his actors, the innate poignancy of his story and Vishal-Shekhar’s
songs to create a moving whole. Even when Jag
ghoomeya is abruptly and awkwardly inserted into the narrative, the tune
and words do not lose their appeal. And the very well choreographed MMA (mixed
martial arts) scenes in the second half are spot on.
Since Zafar seems
socially well intentioned, perhaps he might consider that at least a passing
mention of the A-word (read: abortion) in the story would have given it more
credibility at a particular crucial turning point. Elsewhere, Aarfa tells
Sultan: Your society does not realise “beti
maaroge toh bahu kaha se laaoge?” (If you kill your daughters, where will
you find brides?) This is a line taken even by some women’s rights activists in
discussions on female foeticide. Could everyone please note that baby girls
have a right to be born because they have a right to be born, and not because
they will serve a purpose in the lives of men as wives and mothers. That being
said, quite unexpectedly for a Salman Khan film, Sultan has some interesting feminist elements that do not come
across as being contrived to impress.
Hats off to Zafar
for that and more. Hats off to Khan too for many reasons. Whatever be his
acting weaknesses, he is clearly not insecure. This is a star who has the
confidence to share screen space with far superior performers – Nawazuddin Siddiqui
in Kick, Siddiqui in Bajrangi Bhaijaan, Anushka Sharma and
the wonderful supporting cast here in Sultan.
No scene in the
film better illustrates the contrast than the one in which Aarfa informs Sultan
about a calamity that has struck both their lives. To watch this scene is to
witness Khan struggle to summon up expressions on his face while Sharma,
wonderful Sharma, is clearly living the moment. Still, this is that rare film
in which Khan does not play to the gallery by talking directly to his fans
throughout. Equally to the point, despite his acting limitations and the manner
in which he swallows many of the dialogues here, it is to his credit that he
appears to have submitted to his director in this film, that there is more to his
performance than the remarkable work he has put into building his body to suit
the role of a wrestler, and Zafar has managed to get the best that any director
has got out of him so far.
None of this would
have worked though if it were not for the manner in which the narrative is
stirring when you are least expecting it. That song quoted at the start of this
review translates thus into English:
The soil (of the akhara and the motherland) is in your
blood
Your blood is in
the soil
The Lord above
The Earth below
And between them
your spirit
O Sultan.
It is not quite as
rousing as Chak De! India (which was
also in Sukhwinder’s voice), but it is still enough to reduce an iceberg to a
pool of warm water. Happy Eid, everyone.
Postscript: ’Tis the silly season as you know at India’s
Central Board of Film Certification. The Censors got the producers of Sultan to cut out the words “pant mein” (in your pants) and replace
them with “paas mein” (with you) in
the sentence “Apni mardani ko apni pant
mein daba kar rakho” (keep your manhood in your pants).
Rating
(out of five): **3/4
CBFC Rating (India):
|
UA
|
Running time:
|
170 minutes
|
This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
Sultan
Trailer:
Sultan
Teaser 2:
Jag
Ghoomeya video:
440
Volt video:
Baby
Ko Bass Pasand Hai video:
Videos
and posters/stills courtesy: Yash Raj Films
