August 10, 1998

All-pervasive intolerance forces the director to make seminal changes to the cast and script of the historical film.

By S Kalidas

Yes, it is an oddball all right. Especially in mainstream Indian cinema where crass commercial reasons dictate virtually all choices of subject matter. But then we are also a society where exceptions are invariably more interesting than the rule. So when the maverick south Indian film duo comprising producer Subbarami Reddy and director G.V. Iyer present, what they call, "a celluloid tribute to the soul of India", you are tempted to take notice. And despite all its warts and weaknesses, Swami Vivekananda, a feature film in Hindi and English, is well worth watching for the sheer power of Mithun Chakraborty's performance as Vivekananda's mentor, Ramakrishna Paramhansa, if not for the moving message of its narrative.

Not surprisingly then that Doordarshan is screening it on August 15 as part of its 50 years of Independence package. "I know it will affect my market when I go for a general release in September but I agreed to give it to DD because I want the film to reach as many people as possible," says Reddy without disclosing the finances involved.

Making a historical film is never easy, especially in a prejudice-ridden country such as ours. And when the lead character happens to be such a universally revered icon as Swami Vivekananda -- with the complex gamut of religious and political connotations that his life and work epitomised -- the problem can be bafflingly ridden with controversy. Even before the film could reach the sets, protest started over the choice of the actor to play Ramakrishna. Reddy's first choice was Naseeruddin Shah, but this otherwise aggressive parliamentarian had to back down when Hindu chauvinists in Maharashtra threatened that they would not allow a Muslim to play the role of a "Hindu Brahmin". Reddy next turned to a Bengali Brahmin -- Mithun -- to play the role. The result, happily, is absolutely breathtaking. Quite in contrast to his Disco Dancer image, Mithun brings alive the multi-layered character of the seer -- intuitive, child-like, mystical and perceptive -- in a tour de force rendering.

At a cost of about Rs 3 crore, the film has a host of commercial cinema stars in apparently small roles. So you have Hema Malini as an overdressed Ma Kali, Rakhee playing a Rajasthani tribal woman, Debashree Roy as Sharada Ma (her role is reduced to a mere prop) and Jaya Prada as a dancing girl. The male cast includes Shammi and Shashi Kapoor, Anupam Kher and Mammooty. The title role is played by Sarvadaman Banerji with quiet competence. The film took five long years to complete but its travails did not end there. Its original version was unacceptable to the monks of the Ramakrishna Mission who got one song sequence deleted because it "showed Swamiji in poor light".

The film as it stands is definitely not what a Satyajit Ray or even a Shyam Benegal would have made of the subject. Rather, it follows in the garish tradition of typical Indian mythologicals. In its recreation of the late 19th century too, the treatment is uneven. Nor does it attempt to touch on the problem areas of Vivekananda's life and relationships. Mar- garet Noble -- Sister Nivedita as she came to be known in India -- is one such major absence in the film.

Despite all these failings, the story moves you at multiple levels. To begin with, here were two men with different goals and divergent paths. One an eccentric middle-aged mystic, nominally a Brahmin priest, claiming nothing short of godhood. The other a young brilliant non-Brahmin agnostic and firmly set on the path of rational enquiry. Of all places, they meet at a musical soiree where the mellifluous song of the young agnostic sends the mystic into a deep trance ... thus begins the fascinating saga of how Narendranath Dutta transformed into Swami Vivekananda.

In the course of their highly complex relationship, each consistently tried to subvert the other's agenda, only to end up by sublimating the "self" in the "other". Vivekananda was not an elitist Anglophile like other reformers of the "Bengal Renaissance". He was a modernist, yet rooted in the Indian ethos. Ever the practical pragmatist, he had little use for idolatry and considered the human body to be the supreme temple. Ramakrishna, on the other hand, denied the body altogether. Their joining forces was paradoxical, to say the least.

In recent times, the role of Vivekananda has been on top of the national agenda. While the rightists would like to appropriate him as one of their own, at least one left party, the CPI, had the foresight not to surrender such a powerful symbol, even by default, to the opposition. Indeed, this film should stir up the debate anew. That alone would be sufficient vindication of its importance.

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