REVIEW 233: RAM-LEELA

Release date:	November 15, 2013
Director:	Sanjay Leela Bhansali
Cast: Language:	Deepika Padukone, Ranveer Singh, Supriya Pathak Kapur, Richa Chaddha, Abhimanyu Singh, Gulshan Devaiah, Barkha Bisht Hindi

Sanjay Leela Bhansali is a freak. He is unlike most Bollywood filmmakers who assume that men have hormones and women don’t. And so in that beautifully choreographed song-and-dance Tattad tattad with which the hero Ram (Ranveer Singh) is introduced to the audience of this film, women watch expectantly as this delicious man starts stripping off his shirt, one lady faints at the first sight of his naked torso, another walks up to him to eagerly touch that bare skin. The men, meanwhile, dance with an energy that radiates from the screen right into the theatre, puffing out their chests like preening peacocks, quaking with bodily exuberance, almost seeming to vibrate with passion. Rarely before on the Hindi film screen have male and female libidos been given such equal and equitable treatment.  

Later, Leela (Deepika Padukone) gets her grand introduction. As her hair flies in the air, her garments swirl about her, she flashes that stunning smile and the endless slim torso goes on display, just as you’re thinking, “Hmm, we’ve seen this before,” she takes the wind out of the sails of a good-looking stranger who has the cheek to sexually challenge her.

That’s the thing about Ram-Leela (a.k.a. Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-leela): there’s nothing conventional about it. It’s based on Romeo and Juliet, but Bhansali has contemporised and Indianised it so much that it feels like Shakespeare’s play is just the foundation on which has been built this extravagant film. In a town in Gujarat, two wealthy criminal clans have been enemies for 500 years. Ram and Leela are on opposite sides of that fence. In the midst of his gun-toting relatives, the dandyish womaniser Ram sticks out like a sore thumb with his love of fun, frolic and the gentler side of life. Ram runs a porn shop, supports the family enterprise but decries their bloodlust. When he meets Leela, the physical attraction between them is electric and instant, but he also discovers in her a soulmate; a gutsy, unorthodox creature, unaffected by the family feud and possibly more drawn to him precisely because of his surname. Obviously the road ahead is not carpeted with roses, but what’s not obvious is how different their actions will be from the two teenagers at the centre of Shakespeare’s 16^th century classic.

Bhansali’s film is as much about star-crossed lovers, their unquestioning faith in each other and the enmity between their families, as it is about the enemy within, intra-family power games, pacifism and even gender politics. The women of this film don’t cower behind closed doors, they’re equal partners to their men. Leela doesn’t wait for Ram to kiss her, she kisses him first. When he hollers at her, she hollers right back. When a don is felled by a bullet, it is not automatically assumed that the nearest male relative will take over. And unlike the heroine of last year’s horribly misogynistic Ishaqzaade, strong women here don’t roll over on their backs and pant in submission when love strikes. Into this scenario, the director weaves in song after song, with elaborate musical arrangements, sinfully lavish visuals and mesmerising dancers (Ranveer is excellent, Deepika and guest star Priyanka Chopra are angels of grace). Not all the songs are as melodic as Ram chahe Leela (featuring Priyanka) or as fiery as Tattad – frankly, a couple of them would probably be boring as standalone numbers minus the video, but that matters little within this film, so lovely is the manner in which they’ve been used, never once slowing down the narrative, rather adding to the tempo of the film each time.

Maxima Basu and Anju Modi’s costumes for Ram-Leela are works of art; DoP Ravi Varman and production designer Wasiq Khan’s every frame could be on a museum wall; the detailing in sound design by Parikshit Lalwani and Kunal Mehta, supplemented by Monty Sharma’s background score, takes the breath away. Ah well, that Bhansali will deliver an audio-visual spectacle is a given. In his last outing Guzaarish though, he showed us how tedious beauty can be and how it can rob a film of soul. Humans were arranged in that film to fit into carefully created sets. Even Devdas, magnificent though it was, occasionally felt overly self-conscious. Ram-Leela is different. Except for a couple of slow-mo shots of bodies falling into water and one or two where the leads look like they’re posing around, the film’s eye-pleasing nature at no point takes away from the fire at its heart. Nothing dwarfs the emotions at its core.

Ranveer and Deepika are perfect for their roles, both comfortable in their characters’ unabashed lustfulness, both capable of pulling off the dialogues occasionally written in verse (this perhaps being another of Bhansali’s bows to the Bard). Their chemistry is not quite in the league of Hrithik-Aishwarya or Kareena-Hrithik, but it’s pretty darned close. She looks impeccable in her gorgeousness. He looks a tad over-muscled in his opening scene, but is otherwise an eyecatcher as well. Their performances are so spot-on that it’s impossible not to laugh and cry with them. Of the very strong supporting cast, special mentions must go to Supriya Pathak Kapur and Richa Chadda as Leela’s mother and sister-in-law respectively, and Barkha Bisht as Ram’s sister-in-law, for managing to convey a devastating blend of strength and vulnerability.

The star of this film though is Bhansali. His screenplay (co-written with Siddharth-Garima) is a wonderful mélange of passion, politics, pain and even humour. There’s a lot of bloodletting, yet the camerawork is designed to downplay the gruesomeness, with surprisingly powerful results. The deliberately melodramatic tone never feels over-the-top. Quite to the contrary, the proceedings are very believable – this is probably how forbidden romance feels in Haryana under the watchful eye of khap panchayats. The film’s occasional follies are hard to notice if you’re holding your breath as often as I was while watching it. Ram-Leela is an adrenaline high.

Rating (out of five): ****

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	2 hours 34 minutes

Photograph courtesy: Everymedia PR

REVIEW 136: SHANGHAI

Release date:	June 8, 2012
Director:	Dibakar Banerjee
Cast:	Abhay Deol, Emraan Hashmi, Pitobash Tripathy, Prosenjit Chatterjee, Kalki Koechlin, Farooque Shaikh, Supriya Pathak Kapur, Tillotama Shome

The best thing about Shanghai is that it’s not trying desperately hard to be ‘edgy’. In recent years, that word has gradually come to signify (for me, at least) pretentious Hindi cinema pretending and/or trying to look…European, North American, South American…anything but Indian! The irony here is that Dibakar Banerjee’s film is based on the novel Z by Greek writer Vassilis Vassilikos which was made into the award-winning film by Costa Gavras. Yet, Shanghai feels completely Indian.

This is a story of the wheels within wheels that pervade the Indian system, where everyone is flawed yet most are not without redeeming qualities either; where the charismatic politician on that hoarding could be the devil incarnate whose leadership skills still cannot be dismissed outright; where the charismatic activist on the street could be a womaniser whose cause and commitment are worth supporting all the same; where the sleazy part-time pornographer could be a bravely loyal fellow who would risk his life for a man he considered his brother; and where the solution may not be perfectly satisfactory, but it still exists and gives you a whisper of hope.

Shanghai is set in an India where the ruling political party in a state has staked everything on an International Business Park and the Shanghai-ification of that state. Into this picture enters academic-and-activist Dr Ahmedi who is fighting for the poor displaced by that ‘development’. When a murder takes place to stem the movement, the authorities are determined to prove that it was an accident, but fail to account for that one honest IAS officer whose fact-finding mission threatens to dig too deep for comfort. The writing by Banerjee and Urmi Juvekar, the casting, the cast, the production design by Vandana Kataria, cinematography by Nikos Andritsakis all conspire to make this a disturbing political thriller where connections and contacts run much further than you could imagine.

Director Dibakar Banerjee’s strength is that he tells it like it is, with no apologies and no frills attached. That’s what he did in his earlier films Khosla ka Ghosla, Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! and Love Sex aur Dhoka. That’s what he does here too, even though in Shanghai he moves away from the familiar setting of Delhi to a fictional small town/city. His other strength is the ability to inject humour into the most gruesome situations without being offensive. Shanghai is both funny and frightening. In spite of the unrelentingly grim goings-on, the satirical asides made me laugh intermittently … but with a sense of almost-guilt at my own laughter.

There’s some nice detailing in Shanghai. Like the name card on a table reserved for a government official that misspells his initials; the newly swabbed floor in a government office where, of course, a “slippery floor” warning sign is not mandatory; the brief use of poor English that’s not overdone and shows no condescension towards the speaker (a woman is asked about her connection to “the accidented man”) ... The songs are unmemorable yet somehow fit in with the mood of the film. There is only one truly jarring point in the film when it betrays a determination to be pro-poor/uneducated and anti-rich/educated as far as possible, whatever be the cost: the tone of justification is a bit much when a murderer who happens to be a poor man, seemingly equates his actions with that of an activist who thrashes him for having killed someone.

The pick of the cast here is Emraan Hashmi who has made a career so far out of playing the loveable – often scruffy – romantic scamp and being known as Bollywood’s ‘serial kisser’. Despite the repetitiveness, he’s done a fair job in most of his films, but Shanghai will hopefully be a turning point. His shady cameraman-and-porn-shooter Joginder here is not just his best role so far, it’s also his best performance. To see him sitting on a floor playing out an incriminating audio/video clip to an investigating officer, then turning to that man with eyes beseeching him for affirmation that this evidence is sufficient, is to truly witness desperation. I don’t understand why Banerjee didn’t simply cast a south Indian actor as the south Indian (Tamilian?) official Krishnan, but having chosen that route, he seems to have picked the best man for the job. Abhay Deol is effective as the unsmiling bureaucrat who does the accent with the effort barely showing through and thankfully without turning himself into the typical Bollywood ‘Madrasi’ caricature. Pitobash as the low-life murderer with a heart is an absolute live wire. The rest of the cast too acquit themselves extremely well … Prosenjit Chatterjee (as Dr Ahmedi), Farooque Shaikh (as Krishnan’s boss), Supriya Pathak Kapur (in a small but impactful appearance as the chief minister) and the achingly good Aanat Jouge (that’s how the film’s official website spells Anant Jog’s name) as the driver of the vehicle in the ‘accident’ ... The exception is Kalki Koechlin playing Ahmedi’s student Shalini with an unvarying tone pretty much from start to finish.

With so much to praise, I still can’t say this film has shaken me to the core with the weaving together of its many lovely elements. One big reason is that Shalini – who connects the worlds of Joginder, Krishnan and Ahmedi – remains a distant creature who is hard to relate to, unlike the other characters who are all better written and better acted. There is also the fact that the early part of Shanghai demands some patience … this is not one of those films that sucks you in right from the first scene. It takes its time to draw you in. When it does though, the sadness is inescapable. Really very nice, Mr Banerjee.

Rating (out of five): ***1/2

CBFC Rating:                       U/A

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shanghai_(2011_film)