There is fantasy, there is myth and there is suspension of disbelief. Creating a work of art that is completely in the realm of fantasy and dips unapologetically into the familiar tropes of mythology to demand an unconditional suspension of disbelief from the audience asks that the director balance a fine tightrope between the two to retain viewer interest as well as credibility.
I’m not sure Rajamouli, the director of the mega fantasy motion picture ‘Bahubali: The Beginning’ has really reached there.
Cross Amar Chitra Katha with Cecil DeMille (that’s the maker of The Ten Commandments and Cleopatra for the movie illiterati) and Bahubali is the misbegotten lovechild.
Let me warn you, everything in the movie is BIG. The hero, Prabhas in a double role as Bahubali and his son Shiva, is a massive fellow who is saved from looking like Godzilla or Hulk simply because of his innocent face. In addition to that pumped up torso and biceps there is the armor, crown and sundry other extra fittings that ensure that he occupies quite a bit of screen space, literally. There’s the cruel cousin, Bhallala Deva played by a decidedly ill-at-ease Rana Daggubati. Put the two of them in the same frame and all the others get elbowed out by the law of nature.
The story of a mythical kingdom called Mahishmathi, with palace intrigues and the age old tussle between a good and bad cousin does hold your attention because there’s always something happening. It’s too loud to ignore and so you just decide to go along. Gets easier with time, like all irksome things do.
For characterization the story unabashedly picks straight from well-known characters in the epics. There is a Rajmata in true Mahabharat style, who keeps screeching,’Yeh mera aadesh hai’, there’s a Bhishma type elder, Kattappa, possibly the most impressive character in the entire movie, who is the bravest warrior of the land, but is tied down to the kingdom due to a ‘shapath’ (they were jobless fellows in those days, I say, all those shapaths, enough to freak you out), there’s a Dritharashtra-like king who behaves, well… very Dhritarashtra-like; there’s even a warrior princess, Tamanna, who’s main job is to cavort under waterfalls and get foot massages from unsuspecting fish in the pool.
I’ve saved the best for the last, however. There’s actually a Rakhee-from-Karan Arjun lookalike who goes around saying, what else, but ‘Mera beta aayega’. Much too much? That’s only the teaser trailer. I told you the movie milks all the familiar tropes dry. There’s no escape.
What did I like in the movie? First of all, there’s a lot of water. There’s a fake waterfall that’s a constant backdrop, which you can’t help loving. When Shiva playfully dances under it you really wish you could push him aside (not possible, except for a crane, but just saying) and do the same. In addition, the roaring it makes is quite delicious. The city is built up in the style of movies like ‘Mummy’, ‘Troy’ and the like. Though you look on skeptically, it does establish an atmosphere. The colours are extremely pleasing. The background score, mostly chants, is appropriate. What the movie does very well is establish the ambience of an epic, very successfully. The tempo does not decline in any way and hence you do not feel cheated. What has to be admired is the imagination, a rare human resource on any given day, of the director. There are many scenes that are handled very creatively. Watch out for one involving the hero, heroine and a tree snake. No, it’s not as creepy as it sounds.
There is a fearsome battle for half an hour, I was told. I report this because I did the unthinkable. I went off into ‘sound’ sleep. The blasphemy! When I woke up Bahubali was still chopping off someone’s head. The computer graphics did not seem shabby, which means they were alright I suppose. But then, I’m no judge.
As for the actors, the Rajmata Ramya Krishna, she is truly beautiful, does a credible job. But Satyaraj (remember Deepika’s father in Chennai Express? He was impressive in that and ditto here as well) as Kuttappa is the only actor worth mentioning. Daggubati only needs to grunt and glower now and then and Prabhas is proffered as a well- packaged offering that just passes the test. Would you believe that the makers can be stupid enough to push an item number and romantic songs into such a movie? The cretins!
I only wish that while our directors choose to be over-the top, they also attempt to imbue the characters with a little credibility. While taking a bull by the horns as Daggubati does, literally, is alright, seeing the hero fly from one waterfall to another makes you want to do a facepalm. I mean, can you imagine Russel Crowe ever doing such a thing in ‘Gladiator’? It’s what makes those films believable. Somewhere we have to respect the sensibilities of an adult audience. But that would be asking for too much, I suppose.
The movie is a celebration of machismo, with the attendant validation of male superiority, valour and invincibility. Naturally, I soundly resisted it. The hero is the character that is glorified, eulogized and put on a pedestal. When he makes an entry into Mahishmati, there is a collective gasp and everyone chants his name and goes into a sort of orgasmic frenzy that seemed truly comical to me though nobody seemed to share my nasty view of the whole thing.
But let that not put you off. Bahubali is a spectacle, possibly, India’s chance to do a ‘Lord of the Rings’ or a ‘Troy’. The sequel is well on it’s way, I understand.
Once in a while I like to unsheath my feminist claws, that’s all.
