Movie Mahal

* *

Many contemporary mainstream Hindi films fall short in comparison to their big budget South Indian counterparts. While the latter exhibit technical prowess, such films have regrettably started to trade in a troubling blend of toxic hyper-masculinity and nationalist jingoism. It’s likely that you’re acquainted with the specific films I am alluding to. In this context, Rajkumar Hirani, while not necessarily possessing a secret formula for box office success, stands out for his ability to amplify everyday emotions into all family spectacles. This practice, reminiscent of past maestros such as Manmohan Desai, is discernible in his latest work, Dunki. While far from a masterpiece, Dunki is not a disaster either, albeit with its share of imperfections.

Approaching Dunki necessitates a departure from conventional expectations of Indian cinema. Hirani’s distinctive style involves a deliberate exaggeration, creating a heightened melodrama that, while bordering on the soap operatic and occasionally verging on the ridiculous, is undeniably effectual. The comparison of Dunki with the works of contemporary global filmmakers with arthouse sensibilities raises questions about the limits of such juxtapositions. Is it reasonable to subject Hirani’s work to the same standards as independent filmmakers in India? While it may not serve as an excuse, Hirani has become a victim of his own success, with Dunki inevitably measured against the benchmarks set by his previous superior comedies like Three Idiots, Munnabhai, and PK.

Dunki exhibits several shortcomings, from the displaced geographical portrayal of London (is it South Africa, New Zealand?) to dated jokes, and an overstated plot. The film veers into overwrought moments, affording Shah Rukh Khan a platform for grandstanding. Yet, amidst these cringe-inducing elements, Hirani’s maintains a genuinely innocent temperament with virtuous and overtly political intentions. The decisive question emerges: does the film’s virtuous intent suffice for Dunki to be deemed a worthwhile cinematic endeavour? The virtue, at times, risks translating into a sanctimonious and pretentious cinematic style but maybe I liked Dunki because I found my middle-aged sentimentality drowning out my constant cynicism that has crippled my sense of judgement these days.

One could reason the story of illegal migration performs an alternate personal pursuit for Hirani, related to the refusal to grant a visa to Sanjay Dutt so they could film the third part in the Munnabhai series. I longed for the Sanju cameo but it never transpired. But the want to erase borders seems altogether antithetical for a mainstream venture that doesn’t bow down to Modi-esque overtures not uncommon to many recent popular films. Nonetheless, all the Jai Hind tomfoolery is ever present; and when is it never? Clearly, the journey across borders to get to London is cartoonish to the say least and caricatures are deployed like a sledgehammer with little or no finesse.

Virtually, all the people I’ve spoken to who have seen the film found it quite an emotional experience but so much of this reaction I feel is amplified by their own sense of dislocation, displacement and migratory journey they made to England especially their parents; it is a journey that has been passed down generations now and even though Hirani’s sensibilities are a little been skewed at times, that sense of becoming stranded in another land, disconnected from your ancestral birthplace and not having the right of return has an altogether palpable political dimension to it when viewed in the broader context of British imperialism, colonialism and race – I certainly feel this is how the film resonates the most with British audiences in particular expressly those with a diasporic, migratory history and past.

But in doing so it also speaks to us about the now. The aspiration for a British visa and the inclination to depart solely for economic motives may not unequivocally condemn the present Indian government, yet it undeniably constitutes a reproach. Moreover, the arduous measures individuals are compelled to undertake shed light on a more sinister undercurrent of exploitation transcending national borders. Citizenship, ostensibly a celebratory manifestation of political nomenclature, emerges as a carnivalesque facade, a concept subject to Hirani’s derisive scrutiny. Within England, the past decade has witnessed the implementation of an immigration policy of epochal significance, characterized by its barbarity, brutality, and profound repressiveness. This policy, in its inherent design, not only stigmatizes but also victimizes those who embark on a quest for a more promising existence. In fact, the epilogue of photos depicting the cost of contemporary migration at first seems out of place but in joining the dots between fiction and reality the truth becomes altogether concrete.

Since Hirani set the satirical bar so high with his films, both critically and commercially, Dunki for some will feel like a step down, and arguably it doesn’t impress on the scale of a film like PK, and the humour is less sophisticated and sanguine. I recall that critics were quite dismissive of another recent SRK, Raees, which is now being reconsidered and reclaimed so perhaps over time critics will look back on Dunki differently. SRK had a triple whammy of hit films in 2023, an unprecedented feat in some respects but Pathan was both derivative and ham-fisted while Jawan on a second viewing feels somewhat stylishly bloated but nonetheless is salvaged by a subversive political thread that runs through it. All three films are not top tier SRK but after what was a dip in form at the box office and a series of disappointing films including the likes of Zero, films like Jawan and even Dunki are a welcome relief that reiterates SRK’s stardom is far from fading.