How do you decide if you like a movie?
I ask this on the assumption that you are a casual viewer who, like me, does not understand the technicalities of light and shadow, of shot composition and framing and camera angles. So if appreciating the craft of filmmaking is beyond your ken, what are the parameters you use?
Do you look for a narrative that is well-developed, compelling and satisfactorily concluded?
Do you look for powerhouse performances by the actors, elevating a mediocre story?
Do you look for sharp writing with witty dialogues and repartées that stay with you long after the end credits roll the movie to a close?
By each of these metrics, Brahmāstra: Part One – Shiva is astoundingly bad. I mean, it is quite, quite terrible.
The writing is atrocious and the dialogues, determined to plumb depths of cringe previously unknown to mankind, are somehow worse. The acting is abysmal. Character development is, let’s not beat around the bush here, completely missing. Perhaps there was a character arc that I missed, because I spent a considerable amount of time clutching my face, in disbelief and exasperation.
Brahmāstra memes have taken over the internet so even if you haven’t watched the movie, you are probably familiar with the rumours about how Alia Bhatt’s acting (I use the word in its loosest sense) fees had been linked to the number of times she says ‘Shiva’.
(All of the memes are accurate.)
But by the time the movie ended I was, inexplicably, tragically, rooting for it.
The thing is, I am a sucker for fantasy fiction and I have been waiting for a big-budget Indian production of a mythical magnum opus for many, many years. (Krrish doesn’t count for reasons I needn’t have to explain.1)
Years ago, I had pinned my hopes on Drona. Remember Drona?
Sadly, Abhishek Bachchan playing a legendary warrior clad in white, astride a stallion with his hair billowing in the wind and a permanently perplexed expression on his face, had failed to enthuse both critics and moviegoers. The Wikipedia page on Drona is brief but features the word ‘disaster’ thrice.
Then we had the duology: Baahubali: The Beginning and Baahubali 2: The Conclusion. Most people are happy to ignore the movies’ troubling depictions of harassment as a form of wooing and its racist overtones, and instead focus on its scale and grandeur. It is, undoubtedly, a visual spectacle with a fantastic score (music is at the heart of a great fantasy film) but it lacks the magical-fantastical elements that are crucial to the genre. It is perhaps better classified as medieval fiction centred around a freakishly strong father-son duo.
More recently, a superhero movie I thoroughly enjoyed was Minnal Murali. It has a lovely origin story, generous doses of humour and a well-meaning antagonist who is pushed over the edge. All the ingredients to make a fantastic film. The only itch it didn’t scratch was my craving for a glorious saga high on mythical, magical content.
Enter Brahmāstra.
When the movie promotions began, a tentative flame of hope kindled in my heart. The makers appeared to have the finances and vision to deliver on their promise of creating an epic tale inspired by Indian mythology. The first note of caution sounded when they released a ‘motion poster’ (a.k.a., a gif).
It is difficult to trust people who use a gif as a marketing gimmick.
Then the trailers dropped, and so did my heart when I watched them. I wasn’t expecting the story to veer too far off the stereotypical track:
The protagonist is a child who is orphaned at a young age; s/he possesses latent but powerful abilities whose origins are shrouded in mystery; s/he meets an elderly individual who is wise and takes the child under their wing; s/he goes through a period of training and introspection and eventually manifests the latent power at a crucial juncture, thus saving the world.
Pick up any fantasy novel and odds are, it will, by and large, follow this plotline. As any self-respecting reader of this genre can attest, you cannot be the hero/heroine in a fantasy novel unless you are an orphan with a grandparent-aged mentor2. From the trailers, it appeared Brahmāstra ticked each of these boxes, including the casting of a 30-year-old child as the protagonist.
But it didn’t quite fit. Something didn’t feel right and the dialogues, even in the trailers, were jarring. I suppose filmmakers choose the best bits of the movie to make a trailer appear attractive. In retrospect, the availability of trailer-worthy bits was rather limited.
By the time the movie released and the reviews started trickling in, I had given up on it entirely. Nevertheless, I felt obliged to watch it. I am not particularly parochial but when a fellow Bengali has spent upwards of ₹400 Crores on something, you feel the need to show solidarity and support him. Based on everything I’d read and seen, I had walked into the theatre prepared to take copious notes and mock the bejesus out of the movie in this week’s issue of the newsletter.
Alas, I cannot.
Somewhere in the midst of the trainwreck playing out on screen, my fantasy-crazed soul had gotten hooked to the Astraverse - to the notion of what it could have been, and what it can still be. I became an adherent. Neither Amitabh Bachchan’s catatonic performance nor Alia’s turn as the 2nd most annoying female character in Hindi cinema3, could dissuade me.
I wanted to know more about the Astraverse. I was invested in this world of secret orders guarding ancient secrets about magical relics and elemental powers. I gritted my teeth, covered my ears to shut out the asinine dialogues and tried to immerse myself in the myth-making and world-building that is the lifeblood of any fantasy chronicle.
Much like the prospectors during the Gold Rush, I was determined to sift through the chaff of the movie to find a few nuggets that could be enjoyed, namely, the moments of VFX brilliance - the scenes where the ‘astras’ manifest their power are genuinely impressive, Shah Rukh Khan’s appearance in an entertaining cameo, and verdant views of wooded mountainscapes. To be clear, this list is not illustrative; it is exhaustive.
When the movie ended, I was left with a feeling of disappointment, frustration and, oddly, anticipation. I still do not know if I liked the movie. I cannot, in all honesty, recommend the movie to others. Yet, I cannot deride it, cannot turn my back on it either. Call me naive, but I have seen the bones of something wonderful in the hot mess that is this movie, and I choose to believe.
I hope I never have to suffer through Brahmāstra: Part One – Shiva again. But when Brahmastra: Part Two- Dev hits theatres, I will be there.
It sucks.
Let me clarify, this is not a critique of the fantasy genre. God knows I have read enough fantasy novels that tread this beaten path but has that stopped me from reading more of the same? Of course not!
1st place will forever be reserved for Aishwarya Rai Bachchan in Dhoom 2.
I liked it. I resonate with everything you have written and cannot fathom the screenplay. But I ate half a tub of stale popcorn during and tried to figure out all kinds of possible astras that can exist after, for the last 5 days. So it was great to read what you have written. 100% agree.
The thing that filled you up with anticipation made me swear not to watch it. The trailer/teaser/whateverTheFig. You like the genre so you would look for hope. I look for a sign to draw me in to this genre. I am so happy you chose to write this.
Honest read if there was one.