Release
date:
|
December 6, 2019
|
Director:
|
Ashutosh Gowariker
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Arjun Kapoor, Kriti Sanon, Sanjay Dutt, Mantra, Mohnish Bahl, Padmini
Kolhapure, Zeenat Aman, Nawab Shah
Hindi with a bit of Marathi
|
The
bar for Hindi film historicals plunged to unprecedented depths last year when
Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Padmaavat brazenly
edited the truth to cash in on the anti-Muslim sentiment currently pervading
India. Since then, Anurag Singh’s Kesari has rivalled that
all-time low, distorting a 19th century battle by a Sikh regiment of the
British Indian Army against Pathan
forces, demonising the Muslim Pathans and
rewriting the episode as a long-term fight by the Sikhs for India’s
Independence.
History
has been one of the many casualties of this era of fake news.
It
is a measure of the abysmal state of Bollywood that it comes as a relief that Panipat is not an Islamophobic
film. The Third Battle of Panipat was fought at that historic site in north
India between the Afghan ruler Ahmad Shah Abdali and the Marathas. though the
writing team and director Ashutosh Gowariker (maker of Lagaan, Swades and Jodhaa Akbar) do take liberties with crucial
facts here, at least they do not falsely paint this as a war
between Muslim monsters and Hindu saints.
This is
not to suggest that the film is bereft of caricatures. Of course not. The point
simply is that the caricaturing in Panipat is not along
religious lines, it is employed instead to portray the Marathas – their Muslim
associates included – as a cleaner, gentler, more likeable people than Abdali
and his associates. Towards this end, for instance, the opposition
soldiers who attack the Peshwa’s young son Vishwas Rao and the Maratha general
Ibrahim Khan Gardi on the battlefield are shown growling and contorting their
faces like beasts of prey. It goes without saying that no Maratha in the film
growls. No Maratha in the film is shown killing
quite as viciously as Abdali either. Likewise, Abdali’s Rohilla
ally Najib-ud-Daula is designed, both in terms of acting
and styling, as an in-your-face slimeball. Again, no member of the
Maratha side is pointedly made to look like a snake.
Still,
it is important to note that this lack of nuance is not one-tenth as blatant
and tacky as Padmaavat, nor dangerous
and hate-filled in the way that film was.
Panipat
casts Arjun Kapoor as Sadashivrao Bhau, the commander of the Peshwa’s Army who
was sent to confront Abdali’s forces advancing across north India. This is 1761, the Marathas hold sway over large parts of the Indian
subcontinent, the last of the powerful Mughal emperors, Aurangzeb,
has been dead for half a century, and the present occupant of the throne in
Delhi is a weakling who owes allegiance to the Marathas. The Mughal court
is divided though between pro- and anti-Maratha elements, and this is one of
the sparks that leads to Sadashivrao’s
campaign against Abdali (played by Sanjay Dutt) which culminates in the
historic Battle of Panipat on January 14, 1761.
Gowariker’s
Panipat spends considerable time on
how the rivals stitched together alliances with small rulers across north
India, using material gain and religion as a lure. This part of the narrative –
despite the melodramatic acting by the supporting cast, the narrative’s
penchant for overstatement and overcrowded as it is with
new characters – remains interesting to the extent that it illustrates the
impermanent, opportunistic nature of political relationships of the time,
no different from the modern age.
Whether
factual or fictional I cannot tell, but Sadashivrao’s wife Parvati (Kriti Sanon) is portrayed as an
intelligent strategist whose advice and negotiation skills stood him
in good stead. She, in fact, is the prime narrator of her husband’s story.
We know from Jodhaa Akbar
that Gowariker has a gift for mounting lavish battlefield scenes, and
here too the director does not disappoint although he is thankfully
less self-indulgent in these passages in Panipat
than he was in that earlier film. The actual combat and manoeuvrings at Panipat
are surprisingly engaging, again, despite the amateurish acting of the bit-part
players.
If
Panipat remains a middling film despite this, it
is because of its complete lack of finesse in addition to the needless
romanticisation of the Marathas. A point once made is underlined and then
re-underlined by the background score and the use of close-ups, which become
particularly problematic when they end up focusing on hammy actors.
Sometimes the tone of the narrative becomes ponderous while at other times tricky points are rushed over. This is especially disappointing
when Abdali, angered by the Maratha takeover of one of his occupied
territories, decides to cross the Yamuna although the river is in full flow.
Showing how precisely he managed this despite the high and turbulent waters
would have played up his smartness and determination as a leader, which Panipat
obviously does not want to do, but as a consequence a potentially great scene
with spiffing special effects just never happens.
Then
of course there is the minor matter of facts. Contrary to what the closing text
on screen says, avoids saying and implies, in reality the loss to Abdali
in the Battle of Panipat grievously affected the Marathas, stalled the spread
of their empire in India and in the long run laid the ground for the
establishment of most of India as a British colony.
This
much laypersons know if they paid attention to their school books. Hopefully a
historian will watch this film and offer us a more detailed analysis, but until
then a few hours of research even by a non-expert reveals reasons for the
Marathas’ failure at Panipat that the film intentionally skips, thus robbing it
of additional layers. According to the film, Sadashivrao
lost due to limited resources and betrayals by four key allies, a point
stressed in the choice of title, Panipat:
The Great Betrayal. What it does not mention at all is what critics of the Peshwa say, that among other
issues, Sadashivrao was a poor diplomat and did not know the north
well, which made him a bad choice as leader for this war.
Panipat shows a large
contingent of women (companions, not fellow warriors) accompanying the Maratha Army and a character in passing
mentions a
number of pilgrims also with them. A common sense question from even a lay viewer
would be, why would an army weigh itself down in
this fashion? Historians believe this too was a
factor in Sadashivrao’s defeat, but Panipat is
not a film to indulge in such a critique. The film’s goal is clear: to dwarf
the victor (because he came from what is even now a foreign land)
and idolise the vanquished (because he is our desi boy, y’know), to claim
that Abdali was motivated by greed while Sadashivrao had no selfish interests.
With this in mind, Sadashivrao even gets to
deliver a line about how “loot” has spurred Abdali to fight for Delhi whereas
he, Sadashivrao, is there to offer “raksha”
(protection). Ya sure, “raksha” and
not a desire to expand Maratha rule.
The lack of gray in the characterisation of Sadashivrao makes him bland
and pulls down the film in its entirety. Frankly, Parvati – the
medicine woman he marries despite her lower social status – is far more fascinating.
Of
the main cast, Sanon’s spirited performance as Parvati proves once again that
this youngster deserves more than Bollywood has been offering her so far. She
is beautiful, has a commanding personality, towards the end of this film offers
evidence of impressive fighting skills and can act. In Panipat she also has the benefit of a character who is better
fleshed out than most of the rest. In fact, Team Gowariker seems to be making a
point to Team Bhansali when Sadashivrao is shown extracting a promise from her
that she will not commit Sati if he dies, in sharp contrast to Padmaavat which glorified this
regressive practice and treated Rani Padmavati’s Sati
like a fashion parade.
Kapoor
as Sadashivrao is earnest, while Dutt deadpans his
way through the role of Abdali. Zeenat Aman is wasted in a cameo. And this
cannot be said enough: the casting of most of the remaining actors comes across as careless.
So
yes, Panipat is shorn of Padmaavat and Kesari’s insidious intent, but it is not
exactly an innocent, truthful chronicler
of Indian history. Add to that its lack of polish and spark, and for all its positives,
it ends up as just an average affair.
Rating (out
of 5 stars): 2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
UA
|
Running time:
|
173 minutes
|
This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy:
