Why Sanjay Leela Bhansali holds his own in Bollywood

 
He has his admirers as well as his detractors. Yet, when it comes to picking a Mumbai film auteur, with a legible signature - call it 'style' if you will - Sanjay Leela Bhansali tops the marquee in Bollywood today.It's no secret that there was a sense of relief once Padmaavat was, at long last, released last month. By and large, it was welcomed with rave reviews. In a minority, there was a section of the audience, as well as critics, who emphasised that the opulently-mounted period pageant amounted to much ado about nothing.
Opposed, as it turned out unnecessarily, by fringe groups of Rajasthan for distorting history, Padmaavat, on the contrary, glorified the courage and might of the Rajputs. By contrast, the portrayal of Alauddin Khilji, ruler of the Delhi Sultanate, was felt to be exaggerated to the point of demonisation. Mercifully, the response to the presentation of Khilji was mitigated by the fact that the acting chops of Ranveer Singh were appreciated fulsomely.
Calm prevails after the totally unwarranted storm over one of the most controversial films in Indian cinema ever. It has recovered its investment and much more at the cash counters. So, all is well now in the life and career of Sanjay Leela Bhansali who turns 55 on February 24.
As it happens, the director-producer-choreographer and occasional music composer has been controversy's favourite child - ever since he was at the Film and Television Institute of India, Pune, enrolled as a student in the discipline of editing. According to his interviews, Sanjay went through a troubled childhood owing to differences with his father, explaining his proximity to his mother Leela.
At the Pune institute, he tended to be reclusive and had a fallout with the authorities on refusing to edit another student's film. Consequently, he left the campus in tears. But he was given a diploma, formalising his status as a graduate from the hallowed institute where he was said to be influenced by films of his seniors, notably Kundan Shah and Ketan Mehta.
Indeed, the finale of Padmaavat quite clearly indicates a homage to the woman shakti evidenced in Mehta's cult classic Mirch Masala (1987), showcasing Smita Patil. Would he deny this intended or inadvertent resonance? I think not.
Incidentally, it hasn't ever exactly been a smooth ride for Bhansali. At the outset, he worked as assistant director on the thriller Parinda (1989), and then handled the choreography for 1942: A Love Story (1994), both directed by Vidhu Vinod Chopra. I distinctly remember Bhansali, in his capacity as a choreographer, telephoning some of us reviewers then, pointing out his contribution to the love story that had an outstanding music score by R.D. Burman. The point was noted, but wide public recognition remained elusive till he made a sudden impact with Khamoshi: The Musical (1996), a sensitive account of a young woman striving to tend to her deaf-mute parents. Although it toplined Manisha Koirala, Salman Khan, Nana Patekar and Seema Biswas, other than gathering a bunch of awards, it was a no-no commercially. For me, though, his debut feature arguably still stands out as his career best.
Here was a first-time filmmaker who had the makings of an all-rounder. The shot takings were imaginative, the performances extracted from the acting crew were first-rate, and his flair for picturising song sequences was one-of-a-kind.
In a business where one is weighed exclusively on the scales of a hit or flop, it was fortunate that, three years later, Bhansali could complete his next project, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999), a triangular love story, star-powered by Salman Khan, Aishwarya Rai and Ajay Devgn. Undoubtedly, Salman had sensed the director's way-above-the-cut talent and assented to collaborate with him again. Outcome: an engrossing, glossy romance that also glided to the big-hit list. Bhansali was here to stay.
Thereon, the director's calling card became A-list stars, sumptuous visuals achieved with painstaking detail, eye-caressing costumes and razzle-dazzle song-and-dance set pieces. In the event, style often subverted content.
There are those who swear by his retread of Devdas (2002) with Shah Rukh Khan, Aishwarya Rai and Madhuri Dixit Nene. However, the emotive power paled in comparison to Bimal Roy's Devdas (1955), as exuded by Dilip Kumar, Suchitra Sen and Vyjayanthimala. Granted comparisons are odious, yet, Bhansali's retelling of the tragedy of unrequited love was, in my view, far from soul-stirring.
With the passage of time, Bhansali seemed to stray on the derivative path: Black (2005) was too close for comfort to Arthur Penn's The Miracle Worker (1962) based on the life of Anne Sullivan, the sight-impaired tutor to Helen Keller. Saawariya (2007) took copious notes from Luchino Visconti's seminal White Nights (1957), adapted from a story by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. And Guzaarish (2010) kept harking back to the Spanish film The Sea Inside (2004). Was the filmmaker banking excessively on borrowed storylines?
Fortuitously, Bhansali discovered his muses in Deepika Padukone and Ranveer Singh, belting out the intricately-designed Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013) followed by Bajirao Mastani (2015). He was back in form as a fluent raconteur. And audience approval was back on the table.
To complete the Deepika-Ranveer hat-trick, there's Padmaavat now. Frankly, I wasn't overwhelmed by it. Many wouldn't agree. And as one never tires of repeating, everyone's more than entitled to his or her own opinion.
All pros and cons considered, I'd still say every Sanjay Leela Bhansali film is an event. At the very least, here's someone who has a vision and has survived a blitzkrieg of controversies. For sure, he can floor you completely or he can disappoint you majorly at times.
To that, then, I'd say: highs and lows are a part of every filmmaker's journey.
wknd@khaleejtimes.com