May 26, 2017 11:22 PM
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An elderly couple straddled in and occupied the seats next to me a few minutes after the screen started flashing images of a young Sachin. The gentleman helpfully explained the context of the movie to the lady. The lady looked at the screen and fished out a large Note and decided that this was more interesting than what was happening on the screen.
I sighed, tried hard to ignore the bluish luminescence next to me and looked at the young cute Sachin giggling over a prank. I looked on with hope. I was expecting the unleashing of a dramatic real life gripping re-enactment of the most loved cricketer India has ever known. Once you see James Erskine’s name you know he has been there done that with his bio pic on Pantani the Tour De France hero who ends up a sad mess at 34.
Unfortunately it is a huge case of a missed chance. The biopic looking severely under- budgeted serves more to be larger screen version of a news channel’s patchy job to put together a life story of the star on his retirement. The grandeur of storytelling usually associated with national heroes and more importantly the poor understanding of the game and its finer moments which can lend itself to some applause worthy cinematic moments, is sorely missing.
All James had to do was do a seamless watching of the 1984 mini-series Bodyline or the more recent Lagaan to understand how one can keep the attention of the audience mercilessly gripped with superior story telling.
If the film was supposed to serve as an inspiration to youngsters on how to achieve glory with humility riding on professional excellence and focused effort, then it ends up as a very insipid documentation that you sit through only for the man you love and for what he has done for the country.
The story of Sachin as a little boy prankster, his rigorous practices at Shivaji Park, his coach, his ideal family of a loving mother, a litterateur father, a brother who sculpts him in his earlier years, his strength his wife and his loving children all are already part of registered history. What was needed was to tease out the superman and embellish his story with realistic touches to make it more human and accessible to the common man to experience and aspire for greatness.
Instead it turns out to be lazy filmmaking with practically no effort to excavate any unknown stories, search for unseen clips,( sorry family clips easily accessible don’t account for that) and slyly move away from bumps in the story line which are uncomfortable like the fixing of matches, or the tension with other colleagues or Sachin’s own weaknesses which could made him look more human. There is no effort to even go closer to the characters surrounding him. The director seems at ease only when Sachin himself is in the studio talking peacefully, reminiscing with an angelic smile.
There are some cute moments from the family clips like the kids frolicking in bed with Sachin which looks very endearing or his wife silently admiring her husband and looking like the solid support she obviously is in real life. But these are borrowed pieces of artistry naturally .
There was a need for some dramatization, need to move away from a documentary feel of narration and make him larger than life and boldly explore his weaknesses rather than drown his failures with an apologetic loud chorus of “ Sachin Sachin” beating to A R Rahmans appropriate but frenzied drums just in case the audience thought he was being criticized.
One does feel a pang of sorrow when he retires and gives a simple speech from his heart but one has already sobbed on that one so nothing new here. But the lady next to me who had now looked up after 2.5 hours of alternating between her cellphone screen and husbands loud narration was sobbing away and I felt sad for her and for the billion Indian fans. Not for the movie or how it depicts Sachin but for realizing that we will never see our icon batting like that again. Maybe we just need to thank James for reminding us about that.
