‘Chhaava’ movie review: Vicky Kaushal, Akshaye Khanna jostle for attention in this uneven sketch of a Maratha legend
Struggling to choose between history and the current nationalist sentiment, Laxman Utekar’s unsurprising narrative finds its voice in the final act.
Chhaava (Hindi)
Based on Shivaji Sawant’s popular novel, Chhaava is a puff piece on Maratha warrior Chhatrapati Sambhaji, who took on the might of Mughal emperor Aurangzeb for around eight years in the 17th Century. Carrying forward the defiant approach of his father Chhatrapati Shivaji, he kept Aurangzeb occupied in the Deccan during the second half of his reign, inflicting heavy damage on his humongous army and pride with his unmatched valour and guerilla tactics before being betrayed by his brother-in-law.
Historians may not have been generous to the shooting star but, over the years, Sambhaji has acquired an almost divine status in Marathi cultural space. In recent years, at least three Marathi films portrayed him as someone who laid down his life for the Hindu faith.
Director Laxman Utekar carries forward the narrative. Early in the film, when Sambhaji maims a lion, it becomes clear that it is going be a literal cinematic depiction of Calendar art by Utekar, who started his career as a cinematographer. When Sambhaji saves a Muslim child amid a battle — and a few reels later, Mughal soldiers burn a shepherdess alive — it becomes clear the agenda Chhaava seeks to promote and the emotion it wants to play up. However, when characters start introducing themselves and their intentions like players at the start of a cricket match, one wants to tell Utekar, ‘Zara Hatke Zara Bachke’
That Sambhaji started as a mansab of Aurangzeb or that Shivaji detained his son for his irresponsible behaviour is, obviously, not part of the syllabus. That he took on Siddhis and Wodeyars too, doesn’t warrant mention. However, Chhaava does indicate feebly that it was not essentially a religious battle and that faith has always been used by rulers to tide over political faultlines.
Refusing to be a vassal of the Mughal empire, when Sambhaji (Vicky Kaushal) burns down the strategic Mughal garrison at Burhanpur, Aurganzeb (Akshaye Khanna) realises that the Maratha resistance is not over with the demise of Shivaji. It sparks a long battle of attrition where the betrayal of family members impacts the Marathas and the Mughals as both Sambhaji and Aurangzeb grapple with internecine strife in their respective folds.
While Sambhaji is facing the murderous plot laid by his stepmother Soyarabai (Divya Dutta is impactful), who wants to anoint her son to the throne, Aurangzeb has a challenger in his son Mohammad Akbar (Neil Bhoopalam disappoints with a stilted accent). On paper, things become deliciously complex when Akbar seeks refuge from Sambhaji, and Soyarabai reaches out to the Mughal prince to dethrone Sambhaji.
However, the intrigue seldom translates into something substantial on screen. Amidst the war cries, the narrative jumps from one cutting-and-chopping exercise on the battlefield to the other. An important character like Hombirrao Mohite (Ashutosh Rana) becomes a victim of choppy scissors and the bite of the poetry of Kavi Kalash (Vineet Kumar Singh labours his way through) gets diluted in translation.
The female characters are there to serve the male ego, and Rashmika Mandanna is making a pan-Indian career out of it. Here she repeats herself in a Nauvri sari. Diana Penty as Zinatunissa, the feisty daughter of Aurangzeb, seems to be reading from a placard.
A cliched mess of Hindi and Urdu, dialogues are there only to state the obvious, and AR Rahman’s music is at odds with the rich Marathi detailing of the production design and the overall texture of the film.
Eventually, the film finds its purpose and emotional grip late in the second half when Sambhaji gets into the beast mode followed by scenes of endless torture. After spilling cosmetic blood on designer scenes of guerilla warfare, the suffering and sacrifice of Sambhaji bleed one dry in the final act. If there is a lesson to be learnt from propaganda culture, it is that the past doesn’t need to be buried to save the present.
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Credit goes to Vicky’s enterprise and magnetic appeal to keep the period vehicle moving. Apart from a few poorly imagined nightmares, the lazy writing and gravity-defying leaps don’t allow him to be human, but, Vicky doesn’t let Sambhaji become a cardboard figure at any point.
As the emperor with a bruised ego, Akshaye Khanna crafts a cold-blooded counterpoint on screen. If Vicky keeps it believable in high pitch, Akshaye revels in understatement. Thankfully, Utekar sticks to Aurangzeb’s culinary choices and Akshaye munches grapes to generate dread. He ensures that the shifty gaze of the bigot shines through heavy prosthetics and ham-fisted writing. For the record, Vicky was supposed to play Aurangzeb in the shelved Takht. Such are the times.
