Praveen Lulekar
What was our freedom struggle? Was it a
bunch of British-haters fighting to save their culture? Or was it a deep rooted
humiliation which infected every individual? Our understanding of India’s fight
for independence has been dominated by two key perspectives (amongst several
significant others) – that of aggressive nationalism and of the Gandhian spirit
of self-respect.
Vitti Dandu is
a film soaked in the first view. It begins with using nationalism as a foolish romantic
concept and ends up using it as a clearly commercial tactic.
The film starts with probably the most
simplistic narrative - Aapan Bharitya far sabhya aahot…Britishanni aaplyala
lootla (We Indians are very naïve, the British looted us). We are then
transported in time to August 6, 1947 in a village called Morgaon. We see a
British-loving old man Daji (Dilip Prabhavalkar) and his grandson Govind
(Nishant Bhavsar). The perfectly patriotic villagers see Daji as a ‘converted’.
A place for the usual argument is easily created - Daji says, ‘The Britishers
brought science, railways to India’; the villagers say, ‘But who invented the
zero?’
Till interval point, such arguments take
place in various forms. Daji’s side of the story is that he lost his son (Vikas
Kadam) to the ‘madness’ of revolution. (And hence, the love for the goraas!!!)
Then a cruel British officer (resembling Kancha of Agneepath) lands in
Morgaon. Daji realises he is the one who killed his son and gets caught in a
dilemma. Meanwhile, Govind, playing vitti-dandu with Daji, accidentally hits
the cruel British officer with the vitti. The officer gets killed and
things take a bizarre turn.
Every detail of the film takes you
further and further away from reality. It begins with the setting. I definitely
dozed off in my history lessons, but I know from watching many films that the
British were withdrawing from India by August 6, 1947. But the village is still
in the mood of revolution. What kind of revolution? It seems a mixed one. The
villagers practice with guns and other weapons and finally take out a
procession to oppose the British.
The village itself is a pathetic piece
of fiction. There are no caste or religion barriers and all we need to solve
our problems is freedom. The revolutionaries go to the length of foolishness
and the British officers are strong stereotypes. There is make-believe feel
which is exposed every now and then. A height is reached with the British
officer deciding to hang Daji all by himself. The British were villains, let’s
agree, but they had an institution called the court.
The film plunges in Rajnikanth mode in
the final act when Govind and his little friends fight with the British with
the vitti dandu. The children fly and the vittis make a zip-zap
sound as they are thrown to kill the enemy. Not to miss, Daji gives a lesson in
peace and prevents Govind (sitting on a British officer’s chest) from killing. The amazement is such that logic refuses to come
back to your mind hours after the end titles.
If the
technical quality is anything to go by, the makers knew exactly what they were making.
This is an overt and unapologetic use of nationalism to gain commercial
advantage. You tell a simplified tale, dip your characters in either black or
white and mix a good amount of cheap humour and over-the-top action. No, we are
not describing Singham here.
What holds the films together is an
exceptional performance by Prabhavalkar (do we need to mention that now?),
beautiful songs and cliché but defined camera work. Beyond that, the film
remains a bad commercial enterprise. It might hit the jackpot, but will add
nothing to Marathi cinema.
m4m says: watch at your own risk
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