Bajirao Mastani: The Love Story of a Warrior (India, Sanjay Leela Bhansali, 2015)

An opulent period drama, Bajirao Mastani embodies much that has been said about Indian popular cinema. Most definitely a “cinema of excess,” the film is “loosely structured in the fashion of cinema of attractions,” a characteristic of Indian popular cinema as highlighted by film scholar Ravi Vasudevan.[1] While maintaining a reverent attitude towards the popular Indian period films of yore—Mughal-e-Azam (1960), in particular—director Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s film is also progressive in both its special effects-laden aesthetics and its feminist overtones. The film, overall, is less interested in narrative than in producing a cinema of attractions.

Based on the Marathi novel, Raau by Nagnath S. Inamdar, the film focuses on the consequences of an interfaith relationship between Peshwa Bajirao Ballad (Ranveer Singh), a Hindu and his Rajput-Muslim wife, Mastani (Deepika Padukone). A newly minted commander-in-chief of the eighteenth century Maratha regime, Bajirao leaves behind his wife Kashibai (Priyanka Chopra) to augment allied forces in Sikaunji. Warrior princess Mastani briefly diverts his march by soliciting his assistance in liberating the besieged Bundelkhand region. Upon emerging victorious, they retire to her palace, and love blossoms. Before leaving, Bajirao gifts his dagger to Mastani as a token of appreciation for saving his life on the battlefield. Unbeknownst to him, the gift of a dagger in Bundelkhand is akin to marriage. Mastani appears at his palace asking for her rightful place as his wife. Conflicts arise as Bajirao is caught between the interests of various members of his household, including his assertive mother, his brother, and the palatial Hindu priests. The meat of the narrative is devoted to these internecine tensions as the story devolves into a tragedy.

Figure 1: Bajirao (Ranveer Singh) and Mastani (Deepika Padukone) on the battlefield

The temporally linear narrative of two star-crossed lovers is the canvas on which Bhansali deploys his cinematic style. Primarily filmed in long- and medium-long shots, the film’s cinematography is designed to soak up the controlled excesses of its sets. Each frame is captivating and unhurried, inviting the audience to let their eyes roam. The Aaina Mahal (the “Palace of Mirrors”) caps the grandiose visual design of the film; it is a reference to the visually stunning Sheesh Mahal of Mughal-E-Azam (1960), expensive constructions only possible in the world of the high-budget Bollywood film. Although his is the second film of the year to make this reference (the other being Prem Ratan Dhan Payo), Bhansali’s oeuvre has always boasted opulent sets, be it the lavish production design of his best-known film, Devdas (2002), the Russian fairytale backdrop of Saawariya (2007), or the Vijay Vilas Palace in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999). Bajirao Mastani is resplendent with Bhansali’s signature extravagant musical numbers and accompanying dance sequences. “Deewani Mastani” makes visual reference to Mughal-E-Azam’s set piece, “Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya,” while the sequence “Pinga” evokes “Dola Re Dola” from Devdas.

Figure 2: Kashibai (Priyanka Chopra) in a song sequence celebrating Bajirao's imminent return

A cinephilic film, Bajirao Mastani also makes overt references to cinema itself. The surfaces of the Palace of Mirrors are designed to project an image of anyone standing in its center onto a screen in Kashibai’s suite. Depicting this prototype of a cinematic apparatus in the narrative is a self-reflexive moment in the film, which itself is structured as a series of attractions. The film’s dance sequences interrupt the narrative, while its war sequences are choreographed as though they were graceful dance numbers. The film also continues Indian popular cinema’s tradition of delivering dialogue as itself an attraction. Examples include the recurring dialogue: “Cheetah ki chaal, baaz kin azar aur Bajirao ki talvar par sandeh nahin karte” (“One does not doubt a cheetah’s speed, a hawk’s vision, and Bajirao’s sword”).

Bhansali sets himself apart as a technical progressive by liberally spreading special effect shots throughout the film. The film’s atypical opening credits, interspersed with snippets of a rousing speech to his soldiers, sets up Bajirao’s prowess through animation and computer graphics. Bhansali successfully manages to tie together animation, CGI, and on-set shooting, often within the same sequence. The penultimate scene in which Bajirao fights an invisible enemy rendered through special effects shows Bhansali’s assured hand in using the latest technology while maintaining the coherent production design of a period piece. However, Bajirao Mastani is not without its problems. Audience members are likely to be disoriented by the lack of spatial cues throughout. For a period piece, the film makes curiously little use of maps or visual references to orient its viewers prior to battles or within the palace.

The film’s most progressive aspect is its engagement with feminism. Besides emphasizing the figure of the warrior princess, Bhansali’s cinematic rendition of history allows women to become much more than heavily decorated objects. In an atypical shower scene that fetishizes the male body, we see Kashibai seeking out sexual interaction with Bajirao. Similarly, the dance sequence, “Pinga” is not performed for the gaze of a male character but rather indicates female bonding taking place in a space carved out by and for women. Kashibai exudes control over her space when she banishes a visibly distraught Bajirao from her quarters. Bajirao’s widowed mother, who is positioned as a force to be reckoned with regarding his union with Mastani, appreciates her son’s feminist stance. She declares, “Garv hota hai ki tum mere bete ho, aurat ko samman dena jaante ho” (“I am proud that you are my son. You know to respect women”).

Bhansali’s achievement in Bajirao Mastani goes beyond his mastery over opulent sets, beautiful framing and an engaging rhythm, credentials that he has already garnered with the international success of Devdas. By seamlessly incorporating special effects and nuanced gender dynamics into a period piece, Bhansali’s latest offering astutely negotiates Bollywood’s technological and sociological evolution alongside its global exotic appeal.

Author biography:

Anu Thapa is a PhD student in the Cinematic Arts Department at the University of Iowa. Her interests are South Asian Cinema, Digital Cinema and transnational studies. 

Note

1. Ravi Vasudevan, “The Politics of Cultural Address in a Transitional Cinema: A Case Study of Indian Popular Cinema,” in Reinventing Film Studies, ed. Christine Gledhill and Linda Williams. (London: Hodder Arnold, 2000), 130-64.