There's
ongoing
sense
of
serenity
compounded
by
a
feeling
of
sincerity
and
transparency
in
the
cinema
of
Ashutosh
Gowarikar.
This
filmmaker,
one
of
the
most
important
celluloid
storytellers
of
our
times,
never
hides
life's
most
essential
truth
in
cinematic
subterfuge.
Rather,
Gowarikar
goes
the
other
way.
He
strips
the
emotional
content
of
cinema
of
its
accessories
and
trappings
and
leaves
the
screen
with
just
that
right
amount
of
drama
that
does
complete
justice
to
the
characters
without
making
them
a
casualty
of
excessive
creative
freedom.
Celebrate
the
creative
freedom
of
a
fearless
and
honest
cinema.
Khelein
Hum
Jee
Jaan
Sey
(KHJJS)
is
an
inherently
dramatic
story
about
a
large
group
of
young
people
who
fought
an
unknown
chapter
in
India's
freedom
movement,
told
on
screen
with
a
minimum
amount
of
flag-waving
bravura.
The
source
material
(Manini
Chatterjee's
novel)
is
open
to
an
acutely
pompous
and
self-important
treatment.
But
when
has
Gowarikar's
cinema
ever
been
a
prey
to
pomposity?
If
he
can
make
Akbar's
durbar
look
so
cool
casual
and
muted
in
spite
of
its
inbuilt
flamboyancy,
the
super-committed
sepoys
of
self-government
in
KHJJS
are
not
capable
of
even
a
second
of
verbal
or
visual
overstatement.
Going
to
a
world
that
is
strongly
redolent
of
historic
ramifications
Gowarikar
pulls
the
real-life
material
out
of
the
textbook
and
transforms
it
into
an
eminently
engaging
story
about
anti-colonialism.
This
is
certainly
not
Gowarikar's
first
visit
into
Colonial
India.
Who
can
forget
the
director's
neo-classic
Lagaan
where
one
villager
gathered
a
whole
team
of
ragged
villagers
to
beat
the
Brits
at
their
own
game.
KHJJS
is
not
as
playful,
lyrical
and
lush
as
Lagaan.
This
time
Gowarikar
tells
his
story
with
brutal
straight
forwardness,
a
quality
that
is
a
hallmark
of
this
exceptional
director's
cinema,
here
more
prominently
on
display
than
in
any
of
his
earlier
works.
The
epic
satire
of
Lagaan,
the
grandiosity
of
Jodhaa-Akbar
and
the
transparent
nationalism
of
Swades
peep
out
of
Gowarikar's
latest
work
in
measured
doses,
though
never
in
a
way
that
suggests
any
calculated
attempt
to
create
a
pre-given
ambience.
The
setting,
Chittagong
in
Bengal
in
the
1930s
is
created
with
a
fluency
virility
and
scrupulousness
that
make
us
believe
in
the
characters
and
their
missions
from
the
word
go.
Watching
out
for
those
sleeping-dogs
of
over-statement
the
narrative
moves
across
an
artless
criss-cross
of
patriotic
plotting
without
tripping
over
in
anxiety
and
nervousness.
A
sense
of
calm
camaraderie
prevails
even
during
moments
of
unsettling
bloodshed.
This
is
no
one-day
mataram.
The
patriotic
zeal
never
felt
more
tranquil
before.
This
is
history
without
hysteria.
While
in
the
past
Gowarikar
has
got
some
of
the
casting
wrong
(notably
Hrithik
Roshan
as
Akbar,
and
the
manicured
model
as
the
committed
middleclass
heroine
in
Swades)
in
KHJJS
each
one
of
70-odd
characters
seems
born
into
his
or
her
respective
parts.
Much
of
supporting
cast
does
what
it
is
expected
to.
It
supports
the
drama
and
the
tension
with
restrain
and
skill.
Standing
tall
in
the
supporting
cast
is
Sikandar
Kher
expressing
indignance
and
ire
without
going
over-the-top.
Deepika
Padukone
sheds
her
pouty
movie-siren's
image
confidently.
She
gets
unexpected
competition
from
debutante
Vishakha
Singh
who
seems
to
get
under
the
skin
of
her
character.
Khelein
Hum
Jee
Jaan
Sey
But
the
film
finally
'belongs'
to
Abhishek
Bachchan,
in
the
way
that
films
become
the
property
of
actors
who
own
characters
not
for
a
display
of
histrionic
vanity
but
because
they
grasp
instinctively
the
world
which
the
character
inhabits.
Abhishek's
empathy
with
his
character
is
complete
and
unimpeachable.
As
Surya
Sen
Abhishek
conveys
a
muffled
but
obstinate
idealism.
Abhishek's
eyes
become
his
window
to
a
world
where
pain
governs
the
journey
to
a
greater
glory.
Just
as
it's
impossible
to
imagine
Sanjay
Leela
Bhansali's
Black
and
Guzaarish
without
Amitabh
Bachchan
and
Hrithik
Roshan
or
Gowariker's
Swades
and
What's
Your
Raashee
without
Shahrukh
Khan
and
Priyanka
Chopra
,
what,
we
wonder,
would
Surya
Sen
be
if
Abhishek
had
not
played
him
with
such
quelled
anger,
dignity
and
grace?
Or
for
that
matter
where
in
our
cinema
today
would
history
find
a
place
if
Ashutosh
Gawarikar
was
not
committed
to
making
compelling
films
on
the
indelible
relationship
between
the
present
and
the
past?
On
the
technical
front,
Kiran
Deohans'
cinematography
and
Nitin
Desai's
art
direction
are
subtle
delicate
but
evocative.
Sohail
Sen's
music
fits
in
like
a
glove
with
the
film's
theme
and
mood
of
restrained
revolution.
Don't
expect
the
bombastic
patriotism
of
Manoj
Kumar's
Kranti
or
the
tax-exemptible
desperate
nobility
of
Gandhi
My
Father.
The
effectiveness
of
Gowarikar's
drama
is
drawn
from
the
director's
determination
to
keep
his
drama
denuded
of
exhibitionism.
Khelein
Hum
Jee
Jaan
Sey
is
the
kind
of
rare
and
precious
cinema
on
the
theme
of
idealism
nobility
and
nationalism
that
is
being
progressively
pushed
out
of
our
cinema
by
crass
boorish
comedies.
It
must
be
seen
not
because
it
retrieves
a
forgotten
chapter
from
our
history,
but
simply
because
it's
a
story
so
well
told
you
forget
it's
a
true
story.
The
truth
of
the
moment
in
the
cinema
of
Ashutosh
Gowarikar
is
the
only
truth
that
matters
for
the
audience.
The
rest
is
history.
Story first published: Friday, December 3, 2010, 15:10 [IST]