It is ironic indeed that a filmmaker who promotes freedom of expression runs scared of legal or some other form of undesirable action against his movie and puts in the oh-so-fake disclaimer in the film that goes: “This film is a dramatized version of the novel ‘Raja Ravi Varma’ by Ranjit Desai. It is not anybody’s true life story. All characters shown in this film are fictional and do not have any resemblance to anyone dead or alive!”
Now, this is downright ridiculous as he mentions Raja Ravi Varma’s details so accurately and even features Lokmanya Tilak, Dadasaheb Phalke and other real people as well!
But the true fault — if at all — lies in promoting “Rang Rasiya” as an erotic drama when there have been just a couple of explicit scenes and an in-film furor over nude paintings. This has not only cost the film a better release and prospects but also killed the essence of a great painter’s life and thus his saga! The audience in the movie hall where I watched the film was predominantly of solo men and men in groups (including teenage boys!) out to have a dekko at what they thought will be a “forbidden” feast of erotica! If this was a ploy for selling the movie, it has backfired — and how!
For what we do get instead is a gripping saga of a man who never lost courage even as he lost a lot in material and emotional terms. Ailing and prematurely aged, he dauntlessly fights in court to clear his name and reputation — and wins.
By concentrating on his muse (a fictional character that merges several real ones), directorKetan Mehta does not overdo things, as Varma’s court trial must have partly been about a woman (or women) who was intimate with the liberated artist that Varma was, and not mere nude models for his works. The dig at Hindu rightwing fanatics is done tastefully and yet in a hard-hitting way, and Varma’s monologue in court (the credits are not clear on the dialogue writer(s) at all) is a stunning highlight with its crisp, real brevity.
An ace up Mehta’s sleeve is Randeep Hooda (merely one gangster film old when he was signed) who is effortless and packs a true wallop. A slimmer, pre-2008 (the year the film was censored!) Paresh Rawal as the shrewd merchant is impressive too, as is Sachin Khedekar as Varma’s benefactor.
Nandana Sen is expressive within limits, and her Anglicized accent is at odds with her fully ethnic character. Ferena is nice but Rashaana Shah is impressive in her brief, libidinous role. From the rest, Tom Alter as always, is super-efficient, while Vikram Gokhale has a pronounced Marathi accent spoiling his dialogues.
Mehta directs in a skilled manner, never mind if several sequences dissolve or fade abruptly (editing by Yves Belonaik — not an Indian — and Pratik Chitalia). We do not understand why Mehta needed two more overseas talents as well — cinematographers Rali Raltschev and Christo Bakalob instead of our Indian aces, though they do a splendid job. Nitin Chandrakant Desai’s production design and Niharika Khan’s costumes are exemplary and so are the songs composed by Sandesh Shandilya and written by Manoj Muntashir. The background score by Sandesh, too, is impressive.
On the whole, this is a truly gripping and well-crafted film. But its social relevance — creative freedom which I suspect is what drew Mehta to it in the first place — is rather compromised by it being peddled as a sex-based period drama that is “not anybody’s true life story” (sic)! And this, from the maker of the biopic of one of India’s most fearless individuals — Sardar Patel!