PADMAAVAT: THE EPIC FOLLY OF SANJAY LEELA BHANSALI’S WONDERLAND

“….binte dil misriya mein

(the girl of heart is in Egypt.)

pesh hai kul shabaab
khidmat-e-aali janaab
aatish-kada adaaon se
aatish-kada adaaon se
jal uThega aapke
deeda-e-tar ka hijaab


( you'll forget all your sorrow under the effect of my beauty.)

….binte dil misriya mein

binte dil misriya mein…”

In this beautiful song, with an Arabic tune, a lover attempts to express his own love in a quest to draw the attention to the present moment of unspoken passion. Only, in this case, the singer is a man opening his heart to another man lost and blinded in his own lust for a woman whose beauty he has not glimpsed but only imagined. So lost is this man, that he barely hears the pain and the longing of his slave. Instead he starts swaying in lunatic joy, sprawled in his huge bathtub.

The tragic notes of the song, completely disappear in the sudden, Eastern  Opera turned comic show. Much reminiscient of Shah Rukh Khan’s Devdas mourning his father’s death, alone in the Ganges, performing his own shraadh, pouring alcohol over himself as he drowns himself in his sorrow, literally. Only, the entire scene starting off on the highly dramatic note of him bemoaning his losses while sprawled drunk on a boat, coming to a crescendo as he wades into the water; works not because of Devdas and his alcohol dipped lines but because of his loyal man servant’s sobbing reactions.

Likewise, in ‘Padmaavat’, we see more longing and pathos in Alauddin Khilji’s slave, Malik Kafur ’s declaration of unabashed love in this Arabic tune ballad, written by A M Turaz and sung beautifully by Arijit Singh. So powerful is Jim Sarbh’s performance in this rather challenging part of a homosexual who can be as cruel as he is devoted, that the rest of the characters and the movie based on the victory of duty and honour over extreme evil and lust, seem like mere loosely flying music notes in the air: a distant background score.

And that’s where the director, Sanjy Leela Bhansali fails. Bhansali is quite like that lost man- the evil Alauddin Khilji. Khilji is so blinded by his own madness for conquest, be it Chittor or the beautiful queen of Chittor, that he fails to see the impossibility of a sheer fantasy he has never as much as glimpsed. Just like Khilji, Bhansali too,  is sunk too deep in his imaginative over indulgence of the senses.

He falls in his own trap of creating a storm much like the constant, majestic visuals of the sand storms and clouds of dust covering entire celluloid frames for long seconds; and forgetting the real saga underneath. He is magical at weaving threads into gorgeous vermilion silk chunris draping a screen full of women swirling to the lovely folk tunes of “Ghoomar” or bravely marching, in throngs of bright red, towards a scorching fire. The blinding colours, the beauty of shining pearls and the ever present chandeliers, the sound of bangles and anklets, the sight of a lithe fairy like princess chasing a deer, bow and arrow in hand; are straight out of the Bhansali wonderland of perfectly created sets where fortress walls form a magnificent landscape of conflict and challenge. We don’t just have stunningly choreographed songs but also every sequence is a carefully choreographed mini theatrical drama leading a to a long, orchestrated climax which leaves you at once full of awe.

Yet, completely unmoved.

How is it even possible that melodious song compositions like “Ek dil hai, ek jaan hain..”          in Padmaavat or “Tera zikr hai …” in Guzzarish, both composed by Bhansali, end up as mere beautiful notes without soul? So intent and obsessed is Bhansali, on creating a visual spectacle out of climax sequences like the palatial gates closing in Devdas as Aishwarya’s Paro runs in wild pathos, and the soundtrack “ta nom tara dehere na…” plays out the tragic notes, that he loses the sight and more importantly the ‘feel’ of that particular moment?

In ‘Padmavati’, the beginning has a still painting, with a very somber note of “Rani sa” track playing. Bhansali’s careful opera and choreography is mounted beautifully here onwards, but loses its impact by the time it strikes the crescendo in the climax. While we see the brave women marching towards their act of Jauhar and the glorious Deepika Padukone in all her refinery, her head held high, carrying her husband’s hand prints on a white cloth like a kafan; we don’t really see the love or even chemistry between the king and the queen. Dramatic lines are exchanged between the two, their eyes shining as much as their glittering ornaments. But none translate into deep, abiding love.

After all, the focus remains the villain of the cinematic ouvre—the two plaited Khilji who wears his two scars below his left eye, like medals. Khilji’s evilness, so vile and foul, straight out of childrens’ comic books, may not be new or even multilayered. But there is great potential in his story of lust that brings this love story to dust and ashes. That is the story that fascinates more, much like the perverse gluttony of senses. Bizaarely, this monster who bites into meat like an animal that he is, suddenly exhibits shades of human when he asks his slave if there is a line indicating ‘ mohabbat’ fate in his palms dirtied with blood all these years. Perhaps, Bhansali should have titled this film, “Khilji” and it might have made sense.

Unbelievable moments like these, empty dialogues galore, about a Rajput’s valour and ridiculous sights of a headless Rajput soldier continuing to fight with his sword; try to fill up the sound and imagery on this Bhansali canvas overcrowded with costume extravaganza. What’s missing is a script that needed to be filled first with a story about a brave king, a queen whose fabled beauty invited an evil invader to bring about a tragic death by fire.

And that is Bhansali’s epic failure to capture the essence of Sufi poet, Jayasi’s work. A three hour work of choreography, a song without soul, an opera reduced to a tamasha that is preceded by Karni Sena drama involving a nose and followed by a more ridiculous, attention seeking furore involving a vagina.