Very poignant mores of urban, middle class existence have found a resonance in creations of classical masters of the cinematic form such as Satyajit Ray and Ritwik Ghatak who pronounced their class bearings and leanings through the celluloid medium. Whereas Ghatak – an active Marxist – delved into the peripheries of society to bring to life some of the most mind-boggling stories which would otherwise have remained on the sidelines of art and storytelling, Ray postulated a rearguard view of the changing Indian society, capturing the existential dilemma of a whole plethora of people duly portrayed as characters on the silver screen.
Hindi cinema – known more often than not as three-hour fixes churned out by the dozen by Bollywood, the vulgarized epithet provided to an industry that has emerged as a bulwark against the imperialist onslaught of the American film juggernaut that has captured the markets almost completely in the rest of the world – has had a rather long journey through its creative and restorative phases as Bimal Roy, Mehboob Khan and Guru Dutt gave way to the Manmohan Desai’s and the Sippy’s who treated the movie-watching public to glamourized versions of middle class angst and the marginal people rising against a tyrannical and despotic establishment.
The subsequent de-humanization of Hindi films received an impetus with the work of filmmakers like Suraj Barjatya who presented us with two over-the-top marriage video recordings masquerading as films; Sanjay Leela Bhansali, whose biopic Devdas was not only claustrophobic and stifling but also inane and petty in terms of both performances and narrative; directorial ventures coming from the Chopra stable transported the viewer to a nether world of palatial, almost immodest dwellings and their Punjabi occupants closeted in their make-believe, surreal warps where in-house politics, songs and dances were the order of the day with love lurking somewhere in the background.
The most pathetic occupant of this pretentious and soulless universe of Hindi cinema is undoubtedly Karan Johar and his brand of films. While Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was gender-insensitive and derogatory to say the least, Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham reinforced the unwritten rules of patriarchy like no other film had ever done before. The women in the film are devoid of any agency, going to an extent of being reprimanded by the husband for opening their mouth against something that the husband said or did.
This crowding out of Hindi films by themes disconnected with the mass of Indians, catering only to the nouveau riche segment of the urban landscape as well as the confused NRI population waiting desperately to get back to their roots through a possibly cinematic outlet, one that would give them a heady dose of everything from rich, luxurious lives and mammoth pujas and aartis to the forbidden love of the good son with the zippy yet ungainly middle class girl next door, perhaps had succeeded in trivializing the media. One film that has rewritten the rules of the game over the last few months and provided a new idiom to the audience as well as future filmmakers, completely revolutionizing the manner in which issues are dealt with and symbolized on the silver screen has been the cult success, Rang de Basanti.
I call it a cult film for primarily two reasons. Firstly, the film has captured audiences across the spectrum. From the brand, ear, navel and nose stud- flaunting urban youth to the convulsing marginalized ghetto-dwellers outside the large metropolises where the pelvic gyrations of a Madhuri Dixit and a Mallika Sherawat are enough to enrapture the audience, Rakeysh Mehra’s period-present drama has found more than a foothold. The completely unexpected thread that runs through the film – one that had created a storm in the Communist world as the great revolutionary Lenin and the reticent Indian M N Roy debated the efficacy of lending support to anti-British and anti-colonial movements across the world – which defines the ethos of Rang de Basanti is the other reason why I call it a cult movie. The Lenin-M N Roy debate has perhaps for the first time found an echo in mainstream Indian cinema.
M N Roy – during deliberations at the Second Congress of the Communist International in the year 1920 – raised an issue with the Leninist formulation that full support should be provided to the anti-colonial movements – primarily comprised of and led by the bourgeois classes – including that in India. He declared that communists of any standing should have no truck with the colonial bourgeoisie, which was collaborationist and vacillating. Roy called the conglomeration of nationalist parties and formations the Progressive nationalist bourgeoisie of which the Indian National Congress was the foremost representative. While Lenin concentrated on the ‘revolutionary role’ being played by the nationalist progressive bourgeoisie and kept the question of the ‘proletariat as the vanguard of revolution’ aside, Roy posited the bourgeoisie as the chief destroyer of the interests of the Indian masses.
Rakeysh Mehra, perhaps in a burst of creative genius posits the trigger-happy General Dyer against the incumbent Defence Minister (Mohan Agashe) accused of taking kickbacks in the MiG-21 deals as faulty parts and spares are used in the machines leading to the death of young fighter pilots, one of them being Ajay Rathod (R Madhavan). The politician thus is shown to have donned the mantle of the colonial oppressor Dyer who fired at helpless Indians inside the high walls of the ill-fated Jallianwala Bagh. The M N Roy line of thought is reflected in the treatment given to this particular scene. The import is very clear. The colonial dispensation or the white Raj has been replaced by the colonization of the powerful bourgeoisie, which is mirrored by the Indian political class.
Gandhi’s decision to pull out of the Non-cooperation movement following the Chauri Chaura incident led to the disillusionment of several nationalist youth such as Bhagat Singh who later took to the gun to uphold the rigorous pattern of constant pressure on the colonizers. The Gandhi-Chauri Chaura event is episodic in that it defines the break that came about in the mass movement and the growth of the revolutionary movement in right earnest, one that made the legendary Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, Rajguru, Ashfaqullah Khan, Chandrasekhar Aazad and Ramprasad Bismil household names. This also led to the emergence of a trenchant critique of Gandhi’s politics, which pronounced that he treated the bourgeoisie with kid gloves and actually pandered to the interests of the landed and wealthy classes.
It was also around this time that socialism became the prime-mover of the revolutionary terrorists who saw equality and egalitarianism as the only way out for an India mired in the exigencies of religion, caste and the Raj. The revolutionary critique of nationalist, bourgeois politics pioneered by Bhagat Singh, remarkably well-read and articulate at 23-years of age based its argument on the role of the proletariat in the attainment of complete freedom from all forms of oppression. ‘Inquilab Zindabad’ (Long Live the Revolution) – a slogan coined by Bhagat Singh and his comrades – symbolized the attack on the existing methods and means of social segregation along with a veiled counter to the overlordship of the British. Freedom for these young revolutionaries thus not only meant an overthrow of the colonial masters but the also the forms of production generated and protected by the bourgeoisie.
Rang de Basanti highlights a few important markers of the revolutionary’s life that exhibit his political orientation. The film opens with Bhagat Singh (Siddharth) reading Lenin before going to the gallows, a cumulative indication of the practice of armed, irreligious revolution that these men lived through. A young Bhagat Singh chopping off his hair, a symbol of his Sikh faith, thus giving up his overt religious identity for a larger cause is the other scene that signifies the overall ideology of the film. This act signals his firm decision to sever ties with religion. The fact that the film also showcases an intriguing sub-plot of Hindu-Muslim antagonism is reflective of the secular ethos that dictates the narrative.
The coming-of-age of the hard-boiled, bigoted present-day Hindu zealot Laxman Pandey (Atul Kulkarni) and his relationship with the liberal Muslim youth Aslam (Kunal Kapoor) – once the bete noir becomes someone for whom he cares deeply – is the best portrayal of communal relations in modern Indian cinema. The subtle yet immanent rage that infuriates Aslam in all his encounters with Pandey makes a profound statement on the state of the post-Partition, post-Babri, post-Gujarat Indian Muslim. As Pandey metamorphoses into Ramprasad Bismil, the poet-revolutionary and Aslam becomes Ashfaqullah Khan, the gulf between the present and the past seems to close up. The climax of the film is instructive. Both Pandey and Aslam, by now friends and brothers in arms, die together hand in hand, a silent but powerful indictment of communal discourses and their impact.
Rang de Basanti’s narrative also does not impinge on the tautology of class consciousness at the same time the differences are finely etched. In a break from the past as far as Hindi films are concerned, the film dares to bring forth the underlying complexities of a class-divided society. The scene where Sukhi (Sharman Joshi) – a representative of the urban middle class – accuses Karan – the brooding young son of a millionaire arms dealer – of having used the rest of them to settle scores with his father is illuminating. The class divide creeps into the accusations as he condemns their vulnerability to fall victim to the machinations of a cruel system. Karan is seen as one wielding power owing to his societal status while the rest of the characters become pawns in the hands of a sharply divided country. The scenes that follow carry the class narrative further as Karan decides to put the ghost to rest by leading the others in a battle to the finish. Again the climax provides an insight into the fact that he kills his father to prove that he did not actually know of his father’s misdeeds and that thus, was merely one of them, a pawn, a victim.
For the first time, a mainstream Hindi film brought middle-class, marginal characters into full fruition in its treatment and narrative. DJ’s (Aamir Khan) lines would help to put this in perspective: ‘Gali ka kutta bhi nahin bhonkega hamare marne pe’(Even dogs won’t bark at our deaths). Not only does it put the feeling of despondency and helplessness in context, the dialogue charts out a brilliant critique of progress and regress in Indian society. The structural duplicity of present –day India weaves its way through the film through the pronouncements of all the characters including Karan and Aslam who project a nihilistic attitude when denouncing the real India where the population is shooting through the roof, unemployment is a permanent problem and the system is so moth-eaten that everyone who tries to change things is co-opted by the high, mighty and corrupt. Their nihilism gradually diminishes with time and the fact that their friend gets killed in a MiG crash and they end-up battling the system single-handed and unarmed.
The juxtaposition of the past with the present, another first for a Hindi film, is an essential ingredient to put the narrative in perspective. The critique of the Indian political system would have been but another monologue on what all is wrong with it. Rang de Basanti tells what we could do about it. Not only is the film a debilitating effort to throw up the wrongs of the ruling, dominant class, it succeeds in its mission of creating a persona that thrives on pain and trauma. With a crucial socialist argument for a background and a pioneering leap towards rewarding cinema, Rang de Basanti, unlike any Hindi film of the past carries and pronounces an ‘ideology’ of its own.
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