In an era of Animal, Dhurandhar and Toxic, director Tigmanshu Dhulia turns the clock back and tells a story he loves to tell.
Dhulia, who was a casting director on Shekhar Kapur’s Phoolan Devi biopic Bandit Queen (1994) and directed the cult classic Paan Singh Tomar (2012) featuring Irrfan Khan in the lead, pitched Pratik Gandhi as a Special Task Force officer against the dreaded dacoit of Bundelkhand, Maharaja Patel (Arshad Warsi), in the film Ghamasaan.
Blame it on the late release of the film, the times or the vision, Ghamasaan doesn’t have the spark and the finesse that Dhulia is associated with. Arshad Warsi, who has been entrusted with the major responsibility of playing a dacoit inspired by real life, doesn’t look the part at all.
A lot of ‘ghamasaan’ is lost with the introduction of dacoit Maharaja – a dacoit who hasn’t left the jungle for 25 years. An STF has been formed to hunt him down, but they don’t know what Maharaja looks like. The only detail they have is that Maharaja is ‘heavy’.
Maharaja is not only a dacoit; he is an active instrument in shaping Bundelkhand’s politics two decades ago. The Chief Minister, a senior police officer and people in high ranks have their nexus with Maharaja to keep the system running. If someone goes against Maharaja or breaches his trust, their destiny is sealed with a gruesome death.
Burning a man alive or beheading a man – mercy leaves the room when Maharaja enters the scene. But these graphic details don’t build an atmosphere that can boil your blood or give you a shiver down your spine.
Spanning two hours and 15 minutes, Ghamasaan begins on a slow note. The real ‘ghamaasaan’ is left for the last 15 minutes, when the STF devises a plan to hunt Maharaja down.
Unlike the recent crop of films (mentioned in the first line), Ghamasaan doesn’t rely on violence to grab eyeballs. Thanks to the director’s sense and sensibility, the film has its moments of musings and thoughtful introspection.
For example, the caste politics, the children of a tribal village who carry the dead body of Maharaja, or the conversation between two senior police officers about setting the narrative of the whole mission are signature Dhulia features of minimalistic details with maximum messaging.
But the script lacks the punch and compactness that can actually uplift the film to the next level. Dhulia, with co-writers Manik Batra and Ayush Ranka, doesn’t delve deeper into the backstory of Maharaja, which could have added a layer to the cat-and-mouse chase story.
Unlike Arshad Warsi, Pratik Gandhi does full justice to his role. He looks convincing and delivers a solid performance. Rajpal Yadav and Ishita Dutta play crucial roles in the narrative.
The barren terrains of Bundelkhand, captured by the lens of Dev Agarwal, add to the atmospheric grimness.
In an earlier interview, Dhulia said that Pratik and Warsi haven’t shot a single scene together in the film, as they don’t have a scene together.
The ‘ghamaasaan’ was only restricted to the exchange of words. This verbosity strips the narrative of its sharpness, making it a mere spectacle without life.
In the 2012 film, Irrfan Khan aka Paan Singh Tomar delivers the iconic dialogue, “Bihar mein baaghi bante hain, daku toh Parliament mein hote hain (You will find outlaws in Bihar, dacoits in Parliament).”
Given the fact that Maharaja only talks, why haven’t you given him a dialogue to remember, Mr Dhulia?
