There is a case to be made that films like ‘Dhurandhar’ are better than ‘Citizen Kane’, ‘The Godfather’, and ‘Seven Samurai’
One of my reasons for praising ‘Dhurandhar’ is this: We live in a time where questions are no longer as attractive as they used to be. The time for critical thinking and using one’s mind has passed. File pic
I must begin with a disclaimer: I have not watched the masterpiece called Dhurandhar and have no intention of watching it in this lifetime because I don’t have three hours to spare. I wish I did, though, because I am aware of how acclaimed it is, and how thousands of Indians have spent their money to show how much they love it. Many of them think it is one of the best things they have seen on the big screen. As someone who has long admired the ancient Indian preference for make-believe over reality, I am extremely supportive of this expense. I can’t think of anything better we can spend money on, in this economy, than a movie on how India is vastly superior to its neighbours. That, I tell myself, is money very well spent.
Despite my decision to not watch the film, however, I believe it is one of the best movies ever made. I say this with conviction because if there is another thing I have learned about India over the past decade, it is that conviction alone matters more than anything else. Everything that used to be important a long time ago — facts, honesty, intelligence, common sense — no longer have a place in a country with the world’s fastest-growing economy. I say that last bit with conviction, too, despite how the rupee has been faring against the dollar.
My sudden interest in Dhurandhar stems from the vast amount of information related to the film that I have stumbled upon over the past month or so. I tried reading the Wikipedia entry explaining the plot, to educate myself a little before dedicating a whole column to it, then realised how that exercise was entirely at odds with the filmmaker’s approach. I wanted to stick to the spirit with which the film had been created, so it made more sense to write about it without being remotely qualified to do so. This also had the surprising side effect of making me feel like a politician. For the time I spent spilling what was in my head onto this page, I almost felt like the Prime Minister.
Here’s why I believe Dhurandhar is better than movies that are traditionally listed whenever a ‘Best Of’ list is being put together somewhere. Firstly, the films that crop up on those rankings are invariably made by foreigners. The only Indian who tends to appear is Satyajit Ray, because we all know Ritwik Ghatak didn’t have enough money to be considered worthy. I think it is imperative for us patriots to put an end to the blatant racism that places Scorsese, Hitchcock, Kubrick, Kurosawa, Bergman, and the rest of those overrated men on pedestals. If a crown is not handed to us by virtue of merit, we should take it by force or even treachery. I’m told that’s also how elections are won these days, but it’s something I can’t comment on because that may lead to the cancellation of this column.
Then there’s the question of storytelling. Films should be judged by how entertaining they are, not by what they are trying to say, or how closely they stick to the truth. It brings to my mind the work of another auteur, a man who gave up his earlier pursuit of perfection with films like Chocolate to uncover files we had no inkling of instead — in Kashmir, Tashkent, and Bengal. That is the kind of storytelling we desperately need. It should serve as a constant reminder that an Oscar, Palme d’Or, Golden Globe, or Golden Lion shouldn’t define what is or isn’t good cinema. It is the voice of the Indians alone that matters. A true Indian will always prefer a film about what is genuinely important — religious beliefs and which religion is better than every other one. It’s why ours is one of the few countries that has its priorities in order and is marching ahead of less-developed places like China and America.
My last reason for praising Dhurandhar is this: We live in a time where questions are no longer as attractive as they used to be. The time for critical thinking and using one’s mind has passed. If India has to keep shining the way it has over the past decade, we must learn to accept that fiction is more important than fact. We have to accept that patriotism alone can make us a successful country, and that those who shout loudest are always going to be right.
When he isn’t ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He tweets @lindsaypereira
Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.
Subscribe today by clicking the link and stay updated with the latest news!" Click here!
