By Arman Saxena
With its Best Picture nomination at the Critics’ Choice Awards, S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR is officially a top 12 Oscar Best Picture contender and I personally have it at my number nine slot, meaning I believe it will receive a nomination. Still, I have been very bearish on RRR’s chances this year, admittedly due to my own views about the film’s quality, in addition to reservations about whether such a bombastic and unabashedly ridiculous action picture would appeal to the Academy. But those concerns are likely foundationless as the Academy, as it is now, is dramatically less averse to genre cinema than it has been in years past, as has been shown by Everything Everywhere All at Once’s success and by the recent success of genre films like Black Panther, Get Out, The Shape of Water, and Joker. All these films had elements that implied that they were greater than their genre trappings would suggest. Those touting RRR as one of the best of the year claim the same thing, that it is a passionate anti-colonialist and anti-caste statement, utterly unique in the realm of Telugu and Indian blockbusters. But those claims, frankly, have many holes.
When it comes to social commentary, the primary buzzword I’ve heard concerning RRR is “anti-colonialist”, so let’s examine the extent to whether the film is anti-colonialist in any meaningful way. Are RRR’s villains British colonials? Yes, and they are one-dimensional caricatures at that, portraying the British as cartoonish yet uniformly ruthless (with the character of Jenny being the sole exception). But even though the British are shown clearly as racist oppressors, does the film present any position or display anything specific about the effects of colonialism in particular? I did not see any. While the film relishes in scenes of Indian-on-British colonist carnage, (some of which is admittedly incredibly satisfying) there is essentially nothing in it that seems specific to colonialism; the film instead depicts two heroes battling against a cartoonishly generic evil empire. Just because it contains anti-colonial violence from the story’s heroes does not mean the film does anything for it to be considered that it is promoting any sort of ideology surrounding anti-colonialism. While shots like the villainous Governor Scott’s blood splattering on “the sun never sets on the British empire” were cinematic touches that I enjoyed, the film says practically nothing about colonialism beyond the simplistic assertion that it was immoral and inhumane, which is expected from a mainstream Indian blockbuster but not from a film being touted for its so-called anti-colonialism.
In addition to being praised as anti-colonialist, RRR has also been praised as a staunch rejection of the caste system through the character of Bheem. Bheem is a member of the Gond tribe and after a Gond child Malli is kidnapped by British colonials, he vows to return her to her family no matter what it takes. Bheem is depicted as kind, gentle and capable, and initially seems like an equal to Raju, an officer in the Indian Imperial Police. While we learn later that Raju also comes from a village background, he has received Western academic, social, and linguistic education as a part of becoming an officer. He is ruthless like the British, his introductory scene featuring the officer confidently fending off hundreds of pro-independence protesters singlehandedly. As the more “westernized” of the two men it is refreshing to see them depicted as equals, however, this changes as the film goes on. When it is revealed that Raju is actually a double agent, infiltrating the British police in order to supply arms to his village, the film associates Raju with the Hindu god Ram (his love interest is even named Sita). Once Raju is connected to Ram he essentially becomes a god-like being, no longer an equal to Bheem. This idea is conveyed most convincingly in one of the film’s final scenes, where Raju asks Bheem to allow him to grant a wish for him. The wide-eyed Bheem asks Raju to provide education for him and his people, cementing the unbalanced power dynamic between the two. By situating Bheem on a level lower than Raju, the film can’t be called anti-caste as it undercuts its initial promise to situate Bheem as Raju‘s equal.
The closest the film comes to a political statement is in the final musical sequence (“Sholay”), which plays as a celebration of the leaders of the Indian independence movement. This sequence features many famous figures of India’s anti-colonial history including Subhas Chandra Bose, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, Bhagat Singh, Rani of Jhansi and Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. What’s notable about this list is that only Hindu leaders are mentioned (with Bhagat Singh, born to Sikh parents, who later converted to atheism, being the sole exception). There are also many important figures notably absent such as Jawarhlal Nehru, B.R. Ambedkar, and the Father of the Nation himself Mahatma Gandhi. What do these figures all have in common other than being some of the most prominent Indian nationalists, they were pro-religious toleration and anti-caste system. It almost seems as if the filmmakers found these leaders’ religious toleration objectionable but were able to accept Subhas Chandra Bose’s alignment with Nazi Germany. Moreover, the complete erasure of Muslim Indian nationalists such as Maulana Azad from the discussion of Indian freedom fighters, while not unexpected, is disappointing. With India’s prime minister Narendra Modi forcing Hindu nationalist principles into Indian policy, (see: Citizenship Amendment Bill) these exclusions are unsurprising as other choices could cause Rajamouli’s film to receive the ire of the government in an India that is moving further and further away from being a free country.
But what is surprising is that a film that does absolutely nothing progressive in terms of the contemporary sociopolitical context of India is widely being touted as salient social commentary by Western audiences. That, to me, is incredibly frustrating and is the main reason I wrote this piece. Mainstream Indian cinema is, for the most part, inextricably tied to the agenda of the government as films that the Hindu nationalist majority believes go against their worldview and beliefs are protested, review-bombed on sites like IMDb, and end up underperforming at the box office. Almost solely through streaming platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime can politically diverse mainstream Indian films and television be made. We are seeing an India where a Hindu propaganda film, literally government-endorsed, like The Kashmir Files (yes, the massacre and forced exile of Kashmiri Pandits did occur but is the film completely unnuanced and Islamophobic? also yes) can become a nationwide success. Now at this point you may ask, what does all of this have to do with RRR? Well, I believe understanding the context of the state of mainstream Indian cinema is integral to understanding why I scoff at any assertion that the film can be considered ideologically progressive in any way. I wouldn’t go as far to say the film is propaganda, pro-caste, or anti-Muslim but in today’s India, Rajamouli’s film says absolutely nothing as a social drama.
Now, discussing whether the film contributes anything artistically to the canon of Indian blockbuster cinema may seem trivial compared to the discussion of social commentary in the paragraphs above. However, I still want to judge the film on artistic merits as well so bear with me. As a child of Indian immigrants, (one from the Telugu-speaking state of Andhra Pradesh and the other from Hindi-speaking Uttar Pradesh) I grew up on the milieu of popular spectacles that were Bollywood masala fare and the Tollywood action musicals of stars like Mahesh Babu, Samantha, Pawan Kalyan, and Trisha. As a result, RRR comes from a genre I am familiar with. For the most part, Rajamouli’s film doesn’t really deviate much from the usual formula of these films. The sheer spectacle that’s been praised by many is something that is relatively commonplace in Indian cinema. The films that made Rajamouli a household name across the entire subcontinent were the two Baahubali films and from the perspective of spectacle, RRR does very little that those films do not. Both RRR and the Baahubali films contain high-octane, slow-motion heavy action sequences, in-your-face and stylish cinematography, and ridiculous scenes featuring CGI animals. However, these elements are not exclusive to Rajamouli’s films, blockbuster Indian cinema throughout the continent is littered with these features. When I came into RRR in June hearing all the positivity surrounding it, I assumed Rajamouli wouldn’t waste the biggest budget ever for an Indian film and would go all out. After finishing it, I was honestly disappointed by how reliant Rajamouli was on the usual tropes and fixtures of Indian and Telugu cinema. Just this year, Mani Ratnam came out with his first film in four years “Ponniyin Selvan: Part 1”, which like RRR is a big-budget period action-adventure extravaganza filled with energetic spectacle. Yet Ratnam’s film is more interesting as while it also adheres to many of the tropes seen throughout blockbuster Indian cinema, Ratnam imbues the film with a visual verve that gives the film its own distinct signature. In my eyes, the majority of RRR is stylistically indistinguishable from many other mainstream Indian blockbusters (though again the film boasts some elements that are definitely exceptions to this).
Still, RRR in many ways is a beacon of hope for the future, a future where non-Western cinema and specifically Indian cinema can be acknowledged widely by Western audiences as great filmmaking. Yet, the film is not the best Indian cinema has to offer, and in just the last few years Super Deluxe (Tamil), Kumbalangi Nights (Malayalam), Visaranai (Tamil), R.I.P. (Malayalam), Village Rockstars (Assamese), Article 15 (Hindi), The Disciple (Marathi) have proven just that. As an Indian-American, I am ecstatic to see an Indian film so widely-seen by general American audiences (and Netflix is in large part to thank for that), I only wish it was a film that was more deserving of that attention, one that better represented the rollicking, inventive entertainment and insightful commentary that the best of Indian cinema can offer. I am incredibly happy to see a film primarily in an Indian language be a likely Best Picture contender, and part of me wants to root for it solely on those grounds but I can’t help but return to the film’s wide variety of issues. Still, I am hopeful. RRR becoming the massive phenomenon it is, will open doors for other Indian cinema to receive Western acclaim as many will seek out other films like it. It cannot be understated how significant RRR’s success is for Indian cinema as a whole and I appreciate that. Now, hopefully, that exposure will help more deserving Indian films receive that attention.
