Raanjhanaa - A Review (* * * *)

Aanand L. Rai’s ‘Raanjhanaa’ tells a story that is weaned on a close observation of small town romances. Consider the scene where Kundan (Dhanush) has a pivotal rendezvous with Zoya (Sonam Kapoor) at a fort. Great efforts were expended by Kundan to set up this meeting.  This includes stalking Zoya through most of his adolescence, pretending to be a Muslim, mustering the courage to tell her that he loves her and being snubbed 15 times. When Zoya does agree to meet him, he gifts her one of those musical greeting cards as a gesture of his love. I think the card plays ‘Unchained Melody’ when it opens but I can’t be sure. The scene is one of the many instances of sweetfaced innocence that leavens much of Himanshu Sharma’s screenplay.

Interestingly, Zoya shares her name with the lead female character in last year’s ‘Ishaqzaade’, another film that chronicled the tortured path an inter-religious relationship entails. But in ‘Raanjhanaa’ other elements enter the fray. Shocked by the possibilities of a romance with a Hindu boy, Zoya’s parents send her off to Aligarh and onwards to Delhi for further studies, where Zoya outgrows her adolescent love for Kundan and falls head over heels for an urbane student leader, played by Abhay Deol, who we shall call Akram. It is refreshing that Zoya’s attraction to Akram is not based on conventional Bollywood stereotypes of good looks and money. Zoya is inspired by Akram and is drawn to the possibility of being with a man who has ideologies, ambition and is remarkably self-assured.
 

Meanwhile, Kundan remains in love with his childhood sweetheart and resists the reality checks his friends Murari (Mohammed Zeeshan Ayub) and Bindiya (Swara Bhaskar) try to force upon him. This turn of events is interesting because it calls upon us, the audience, to consider who we sympathize with. Do we sympathize with Kundan for staying on course with his love, although he shows a remarkable lack of direction in his life and shows that he may not be good at anything else but loving Zoya? Could we blame Zoya, having evolved from her small town upbringing to a modern outlook, for choosing to be with a man who she can truly identify with and who possibly loves her as much as Kundan?

There is a soft social commentary underlying the frolicky narrative of ‘Raanjhanaa’, which gives it more depth than we have any right to expect. Remember Ram Gopal Verma’s ‘Rangeela’ and the improbable union between a film actress and a, well, vagrant with a heart of gold? ‘Raanjhana’ heads down a path that is more aware of the realities of its characters and the social divide India inhabits, albeit with a choppy and frenzied third act where Kundan becomes involved in political canvassing for the party that Akram started, all for Zoya.

While Dhanush, Sonam Kapoor and Abhay Deol are well cast in lead roles, this is clearly Dhanush’s film. It’s a clever casting ploy, even making room for his slightly dodgy accent by depicting him as the son of a tamil priest. Dhanush, as some would certainly know, is a big name down south. But the fact that he is virtually unknown to hindi cinema audience frees him from all the baggage of expectations that would have doubtlessly latched to a Bollywood A-lister and he acts with a remarkable lack of inhibition. He is a natural and I doubt if this film would have worked without him. In their supporting roles, Mohammed Zeeshan Ayub and Swara Bhaskar are exceptional and bring a certain chemistry to the friendship between Kundan, Murari and Bindiya.

‘Raanjhanaa’ is Anand Rai’s second film after ‘Tanu Weds Manu’, which was also written by Himanshu Sharma and was also set in a town in UP. It represents an increasingly prevalent & productive creative movement towards stories that emerge outside urban centres and are rich in social themes. Its biggest folly might be romanticizing characters like Kundan who are fools and who perpetually keep a blade close to their wrists. But then you look back to Kundan dancing like a madman, dazed with love, in the middle of a busy Varanasi street and, suddenly, all is forgiven.