Another iteration of Ramayana, another controversy. Adipurush, directed and written by Om Raut, is a dramatic retelling of the epic. With some creative liberties, of course. It is also the most recent subject of hot debate and controversy on social media. There is massive in-fighting among right-wing trolls, half are singing praises to the tune of “Jai Shri Ram” — incidentally the theme song that features heavily in the trailer — and the other half is calling it a film that “exploits Hindus’ emotions”. This reaction is not surprising in the least. Calls for boycotts have been raised over movies that have everything and nothing to do with religion.
Going through Twitter, one sees unusual friendships in the comments sections of tweets calling the movie an embarrassment; an unlikely camaraderie between people from all religions. In a day and age where religious fault lines seem as apparent as they do today, it is an astonishing sight.
One review of Adipurush features a YouTube creator, in a bhagwa shirt, oms and swastikas all over it, on the verge of tears. His main grouse seems to be the loose language the movie uses; some foul words from the Hanuman character have disturbed many. In an unsurprising irony, the words used on Twitter and other social media to criticise the dialogues are hardly parliamentary.
Over the last decade, Bollywood has found itself at the centre of controversy numerous times. There was Pathaan’s orange bikini; there was Padmaavat and talks of a decapitated nose; there was Ram Leela. Even in 1992, the animated Ramayana: The Legend of Prince Rama, by Yugo Sako was not allowed theatre releases in India. Notice that these movies all follow historical/mythical stories. They have religious under/overtones, or a distinct nationalistic theme. They are made with a target audience in mind. They have big budgets, and clear goals and yet very often, run into controversy.
Pathaan’s ‘Besharam Rang’ faced several cuts by the censor board, ‘Padmaavat’ was ‘Padmaavati’ originally, and ‘Ram Leela’ became ‘Goliyon Ki Rasleela Ram-Leela’.
In an interview with Arnab Goswami, writer Manoj Muntashir says he simplified the dialogues as per the oral tradition he grew up listening to in his village so that the film can be understood by all. Sako echoed the same sentiment in the 1990s — he was fascinated by Ram’s tale, spent millions of dollars and over a decade of his life dedicated to doing this project justice and having it reach millions. But for trolls, neither Muntashir nor Sako was dedicated enough. The BJP has leveraged religion as a political category for a while now. The end of controversy doesn’t serve that goal. Perhaps that is why films that try to capitalise on this momentum with big budgets, and production (the budget for the movie was ₹500 crore) — Adipurush, Brahmastra, Padmaavat, Bajirao Mastani — seem to fall victim to the same fate.
There are good films and there are bad films. There are also offensive films. There may even be a case for this film falling into that category. But the live-wire that any piece of work around religion inevitably becomes, the volatility surrounding us every day when we speak of religion, points to an issue much larger than the Adipurush row. It speaks to an illness that runs deeper and becomes more malignant every day. With the devolution of public discourse, and everything being fraught with tension, it’s becoming harder and harder to make movies that we can enjoy; movies that can enjoy themselves. One thing might help though. The Ram-Lakshman-Ravan trope has lived past its day. We can tell a different story now.
sukhmani.malik@expressindia.com