The Weekly Whine #2: Why I am thrilled Pathaan shut up the Boycott Brigade
SRK's and Salman's bromance is so endearing that one can make a serious argument to send Baba Siddiqui as a peacetime diplomat to any region in the world suffering from conflict.
Hello, and welcome to another edition of The Weekly Whine. This should've been in your inbox on Sunday, but it wasn’t, because to paraphrase the philosopher Jagger: “We can’t always get what we want on time.” All the new readers who are here after the RRR pieces, thank you for all the love. Let me channel my inner Justice Katju and put the links here again: RRR Part 1: An Absurdist Deconstruction and RRR Part 2: Why Hinduphobes hate the movie. I haven’t been as punctual and prolific as I wished to be with my writing, and I hope to fix the situation. One of the regular offerings will be The Weekly Whine, a nonsensical take on the week’s non-affairs.
Whine 1: Why I am thrilled Pathaan shut up the Boycott Brigade
For the longest time, the word “Pathaan” was synonymous with one of Tagore’s sweetest short stories ever written on filial love – Kabuliwalla. Even by Tagore’s meteoric standard, Kabuliwalla stands out as one of his most universally beloved works thanks to a simple message: a father’s love for a daughter transcends the barriers of space, time, geography, or linguistics.
Sadly, now after its gigantic success, the word will always be associated with Shah Rukh Khan. The movie recently dropped on Prime, and that reminded me of another encounter with SRK.
Nine years ago, in the days of my indiscriminate youth, when my pen was a little looser, I’d written a piece mocking Shah Rukh Khan’s Happy New Year for DNA, titled What Happy New Year’s Box Office Collections Mean for the Human Race, arguing that the film’s success was proof that humanity had reached its nadir.
Back then, I was a callow young lad, believing myself intellectually superior in name-dropping Aldous Huxley and George Orwell. A few years after this piece, I actually ran into SRK at Gauri’s restaurant, who instantly quipped: “You’re the asshole who wrote that piece mocking Happy New Year.”
While I found it remarkable that he could read – most Bollywood stars don’t look like they can walk and talk at the same time – it also made me realise what a pretentious dunce I was being. As I’ve aged, I’ve realised that all art is for us to enjoy – lowbrow, middlebrow, or highbrow.
Over the years, I’ve realised that only brutes and illiterates judge people based on the art they consume. Who are we to decide that the lines “Umar Hai 17, Hila Dungi Chhapra…” is somehow artistically superior to “There’s a lady who is sure that all that glitters is gold…”?
Just because you watch Mad Men or Breaking Bad instead of Tarak Mehta or Roadies doesn't make you a brainiac. You will always meet people in life who will try to mock you for the content you consume, and to them, give a big middle finger.
The truth is that we live in a Bigg Boss world. By that, I mean I can use Bigg Boss to explain every single type of content in the universe. People who disparage the show should remember that everything that happens, everything they react to, is just a different version of Bigg Boss.
Harry and Meghan on Netflix are Bigg Boss for people who think in English and watch Yes Minister instead of Tarak Mehta.
Twitter is Bigg Boss for people who have too much free time.
Ashneer Grover vs. Bharat Pe is Bigg Boss for people who understand finance.
Politics is Bigg Boss for people who watch too much news.
Sports is Bigg Boss for people who are too fat to play sports themselves.
Fighting about groceries or bank accounts is Bigg Boss for married couples.
Research and academia are Bigg Boss for people who've too much time to kill and no desire to earn more money.
Bohr vs. Einstein is Bigg Boss for people who understand slightly higher mathematics.
What I am saying is that, in essence, the entire universe – perceived and real – is just an ever-expanding Bigg Boss House.
Now, this brings us back to Pathaan, a movie I watched in the hall and quite enjoyed, even though I don’t believe its success indicates the triumph of secularism.
Pathaan: A Nonsensical Review
If I was to do a short review, it would go something like this:
Pathaan, the movie that has made more than Rs 500 crores, recently dropped on OTT, so everyone can finally judge those who paid to watch it in halls.
It might not be Shah Rukh Khan’s most superlative performance – that’s just SRK being SRK in an interview – but it’s certainly a fun watch with a cameo that promises an interlinked YRF Spy Universe soon.
Like the MCU (blue beam, alien invasion, quips, science jokes), the YRF Spy Universe is also coming up with its preordained formula, which goes:
1) Pick a leading Bollywood actor (Salman, SRK, Hrithik).
2) Pick a villain with facial expressions and thespian skills fewer than ChatGPT (Tiger, John).
3) Have the hero fall in love with an ISI agent (Katrina, Deepika).
4) Throw in some salubrious songs in exotic locations.
5) Show the hero being abandoned by his agency, with everyone thinking he’s gone rogue or dead.
6) Laugh all the way to the bank.
The plot of Pathaan is quite simple: John Abraham’s Jim – who, based on his accent and lack of facial contours – is most probably a citizen of the Republic of Bandruh and has rebelled, ostensibly, because some babu refused to pay for his protein supplements. Jim is the buffest guy to ever quote Nietzsche, pointing out that morality is a herd instinct.
Meanwhile. Deepika plays an ISI agent who has never looked at a carb and and appears to have qualified for the Dulat Rehabilitation Principle. The action scenes are mediocre at best – particularly now that we’ve seen the graphics Indian movies like RRR are capable of – and the worst bit is the fight between SRK and John while wearing Falcon cast-off wings.
The only good thing about the movie is SRK, who lights up the screen every time he’s there, and the cameo by Salman Khan. Their bromance, despite bad blood in the past, is so endearing that one can make a serious argument to send Baba Siddiqui as a peacetime diplomat to any conflict-ridden region in the world.
I adore the movie for several other reasons and am thrilled that it was a smashing success.
Firstly, it really irritated the folks at Gems of Bollywood, who can see a random doodle and imagine some bizarre Islamist conspiracy from “Urduwood”.
Like the time they saw a video of a woman gyrating and saw an uncanny similarity with the painting of medieval sex slaves. Even Rorschach couldn’t see that coming.
Or the former IPS Officer who wondered how Deepika’s husband could allow such “public molestation”.
And then there was the professor who imagined a slight to Hinduism based on Deepika Padukone's bikini colour who argued that Bollywood would have to take “head”(sic).
I am doubly glad Pathaan didn’t flop, and Bollywood didn’t have to take (sic) head.
Another reason was that it reminded the imbecilic ban brigade – both online and offline – about the minuteness of their reach. They were thrilled after the failure of Laal Singh Chaddha and seemed to imagine that their shenanigans could actually derail a movie.
The success of Pathaan and Brahmastra was a reminder that most Indians go to the theatre to enjoy themselves, not because they want to protest or support an actor’s political ideology or dietary preferences. Of course, it’s also a reminder that they don’t have so imaginary Hobson’s Choice between paneer or movies.
Despite calls for boycotts because of the saffron bikini or Ranbir’s beef comments or that Pathans didn’t dance.
Among the most prominent voices of the boycott ban was Madhya Pradesh Home Minister Narottam Mishra, who claimed the “costumes were objectionable, and that the song had been shot with a dirty mindset (sic).”
Showcasing our love for national integration, even Muslim organisations agreed with their saffron brethren on the boycott calls. Syed Anas Al, Madhya Pradesh’s Ulema Board chief, claimed that the movie disrespected Islam and urged the Haj committee not to provide a visa to Shah Rukh Khan to perform ummah.
Interestingly, the constant need to turn into film critics appeared to even earn the Prime Minister’s chagrin, who asked BJP leaders to “refrain from making unnecessary remarks on films” during a BJP National Executive meeting.
Thankfully, the silent majority disagreed with the boycott brigades. While a persecution complex might unite people – and there are real grievances – there’s no need to become dharma warriors over imaginary slights.
Also, for my liberal brethren, Pathaan’s success wasn’t some sort of rebellion against the current regime. If anything, it agreed completely with the current regime’s worldview on various issues, including Kashmir, national security, patriotism, and deep love for holograms. In fact, one can easily replace SRK with Rajiv Bhatia and still get the same movie. It’s a sad commentary on the electoral hopes of the erstwhile elite, who earlier used to say that Modi would never become PM, and now pin their hopes on a movie being a hit.
And finally, as I had written when I left Bombay and in a food newsletter beatifying the Bombay pav: “It’s very hard to explain Bombay’s allure to an outsider. It’s even harder to explain how one can love this place and get sad about leaving it.” Bombay has what I call the SRK Syndrome, which occurred to me while thinking about the thousands of fans that embark on a pilgrimage to Bandra (West) to catch a glimpse of Mannat. The journey has, at its heart, a singular message of triumph over adversity: If an outsider like Shah Rukh Khan could come here and make it, so can you. It's the mantra that Mumbaikars repeat in their heads in trying times when even the commute makes one feel like Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill.”
And seeing SRK’s success after a long time, felt good because, in a tiny way, you felt like it was your success as well. Is that a rational idea? Definitely not, but neither is life.
Whine 2: The Prince That Was Promised
The second item in this week’s whine is an excerpt from my stupendously long essay. Click the link if you want to lose 30 minutes of your life in never-ending meme references and philosophical throwbacks.
One of the abiding myths of the Game of Thrones franchise is its own version of the Chosen One AKA The Prince That Was Promised. For the uninitiated, it was a Valerian prophecy about a warrior of light who would lead the humans against the armies of the dead. Now the original prophecy in Valerian and the term Prince was gender neutral, so the Game of Thrones (and its sequel House of the Dragon) saw various contenders, including Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow, Aegon II, and even Stannis Baratheon, although the original prophecy alluded that one leading the army would be a Targaryen.
While the identity of GoT’s Prince remains a mystery (at least to those not privy to George RR Martin’s thoughts), there’s no confusion among a major chunk of Congress supporters and BJP opponents about the identity of their saviour. Of course, they tend to vacillate to different people from time to time – from Mamata Banerjee to Uddhav Thackeray to Rakesh Tikait to Raj Thackeray to Shah Rukh Khan – but at the bottom of their hearts, they know it’s always Rahul Gandhi. In fact, even Reuters uses the term to describe the Congress scion. And it’s the longest-loading coming-of-age tale in history… Read more.
Whine 3: Woh Ladki Hai Kahan?
Many years ago, a descendent of Rabindranath Tagore (give or take a few branches) asked – in a movie that killed multiplexes – the epochal question: “Woh ladki hain kahan?” No one could’ve guessed then that the answer was: Looking for a guy who earns annual increments.
Sonali Kulkarni hit the limelight again by announcing her intention to become the Mother of MRAs with a diatribe on modern relationships that could only come from someone whose entire opinion on feminism, modern relationships, and the universe was formed by watching Luv Ranjan movies starring Karthik Aryan.
This is like saying the worst victims of the pandemic weren't the migrants that were walking home - buggers were getting their cardio done anyway - but the fuckbois who couldn't get laid during that time.
Among the less believable claims was that she had a friend, who was willing to settle for someone who only earned Rs 50,000 per month, which is sensationalist because even journalists don’t settle for someone that poor. Perhaps the most problematic bit in her diatribe – and you know it’s problematic when someone like yours truly, who has no moral compass, calls it problematic – is when she casually normalises workplace harassment.
Now I’ve had friends ask me why I sound like a “typical feminist”?
For starters, there’s nothing wrong with being a typical feminist. Feminism is simply the belief that we are all equal irrespective of gender, and that’s a basic sentiment. The thing is that Sonali Kulkarni is extrapolating a minute view which is the exception – like peeing on planes – and extrapolating to the mainstream like its common behaviour.
It's a cruel joke in a nation where 30% of women have experienced domestic violence at least once after they turned 15, and almost 20 women die due to dowry-related harassment every day. Workplace harassment is a serious issue, and we are far, far away from creating a feminist utopia where a person is no longer judged by virtue of their gender. In an environment like that, it’s trivial for anyone to suddenly care about the struggles of the office worker who can no longer catcall his colleagues. It sounds just like the struggle of the nepo kid to break into Bollywood.
That’s all for this week folks. See you on Sunday.
Edited by Alekhya Boora.