‘Sanju’ review – Ranbir Kapoor in an unapologetic hagiography

Like several Hindi biopics, Sanju begins with a preposterous disclaimer. It comfortably washes its hands off the biopic label and claims that it is merely ‘based on’ certain events in its subject’s life. It is as if the makers were unaware that Sanjay Dutt’s life has been under severe media scrutiny, and that each of us and our dogs has already given him a character certificate. Therefore, when a filmmaker as respected as Rajkumar Hirani decides to ‘expose’ his story on the big screen, we expect watertight handling, a bunch of serious revelations, and a little honesty, if that was not too much to ask for.

Instead, the film turns out to be a cinematic version of what Dutt has unsuccessfully been saying in several of his interviews. The primary agenda here is to restate the phrase, “My name is Sanjay Dutt and I am not a terrorist.” Rajkumar Hirani and Abhijat Joshi attempt to paint the man’s life in a blatant all-white shade, which is severely problematic.

Minutes into the film, we are introduced to the tonality that Sanju intends to maintain. There is a renowned biographer from London (Anushka Sharma, sporting bizarre blue lenses and an even weirder hairdo) who is nearly harassed by Sanjay and his wife, Maanyata (Dia Mirza), to write a book about his life. Soon the news breaks out, and we see a mysterious builder (Jim Sarbh, with yet another fake accent) who claims he can spill some massive beans about Sanju.

These are characters straight out of Hindi film lore, some of whom have already appeared in Hirani’s earlier films. For starters, Sharma’s Winnie Diaz is an extended version of her own clueless, gullible self in PK.

After a rather shaky context-setting process, Sanju finally takes off when Sanjay (Ranbir Kapoor) begins narrating his story, which takes us back to the 1980s. This is a rich prototype of the decade that takes us to the sets of Rocky and into plush Bombay bars. We also get a trademark Hirani risqué comedy sequence involving Sanju and his girlfriend’s family.

The film continues on a light note until the death of Sanju’s mother, which is followed by his attempts to overcome drug addiction. Running through flashbacks, Sanju eventually transitions to another controversial phase in its protagonist’s life: the TADA case.

The primary issue in the way Hirani and Joshi construct Sanju is that the film, strangely, is not apologetic about its hagiography-like tenor. As the narrative unfolds, we hear Sanjay Dutt screaming at us that he is a good man. We see him seeking closure from a segment of society and the media that still view him with suspicion.

In the bargain, the makers end up whitewashing his persona most laughably. If Sanju had taken to drugs, the film thrusts the blame on a certain friend who becomes the poster boy of our parents’ idea of ‘buri sangat’. If Sanju sleeps with his friend’s girlfriend, the incident is treated comically. The film completely ignores his romantic relationships, barring a fleeting affair in the first half that ends within minutes.

For the rest, we see a close-knit family of three and a close friend facing a series of allegations, all supposedly driven by media speculation. There are vicious newspaper editors, double-faced lawyers, and scheming gangsters, each serving simplistic lessons that exist only in Hirani’s make-believe universe.

Coming to the pleasant bits, the screenplay is extremely fair to the relationship that Sanju shares with his father Sunil Dutt (Paresh Rawal). It is remarkable how their status quo evolves over the years through several filmic moments, including a speech the son prepares for his father but never gets to read aloud. Devoid of too much pretence, this angle remains the most finely etched one in Sanju.

The friendship between Sanju and Kamlesh (Vicky Kaushal, excellent in parts) gets a lot of screen time but eventually drowns in a pool of clichés. What is it with Hirani and his obsession with decade-long misunderstandings that could have been solved with a single phone call? If he intended to create a massive dramatic impact with these twists, the formula no longer works.

With a runtime of nearly three hours, Sanju feels stretched. Whether it’s the horrifying prison sequences or the uncomfortable back-and-forth between past and present, the film highlights only what its subject wants us to see. There are ghastly accounts of instances where the otherwise flamboyant actor was wronged, tortured, and misinterpreted.

What the film misses is any real perspective on his rising stardom, extravagant lifestyle, and interpersonal relationships, except with a few people, and even those are comfortably fictionalized.

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In the titular role, Ranbir Kapoor gets the gait and attitude of Sanjay Dutt just right without veering into mimicry. However, the actor is more at ease in the heavy-duty emotional moments, which reinstates why Kapoor is easily the best among Hindi cinema’s newer lot.

In a special appearance, Manisha Koirala gets one knockout scene and a key song, proving her immense mettle yet again. Sonam Kapoor impresses in a brief role. Her outburst and the subsequent culmination of her liaison with Sanju are largely effective.

Paresh Rawal is very well cast as Dutt Senior. As mentioned earlier, the father-son equation is nuanced and will be savoured with great fondness.

Perplexingly, Hirani chooses to close his film with a dance number featuring Sanjay Dutt and Ranbir Kapoor. Newspaper clippings are pasted all over as the two men dance with an inexplicable sense of defiance and contentment.

Coupled with the title chosen for the actor’s fictitious biography in the film, one begins to question the intent behind making the film in the first place.

In short, if we were to describe the film in terms of Twitter: “Sanjay Dutt didn’t post a single tweet. He just retweeted a bunch of things on his timeline. How can he be a bad person?”

Rating: ★★ 1/2

Sanju is now streaming on Netflix.