Is the snoring politician in Sanju who we think he is?

There is a fine, thin line dividing sarcasm from slander. Given an opportunity our filmmakers easily cross that line. Rajkumar Hirani’s Sanju has an extremely cheeky sequence, bordering on disparagement, referring to a very distinguished political leader whom Sanjay Dutt had visited in the hope of getting amnesty from his serious legal problems.

Apparently, the political leader (played in the film by Anjan Shrivastava) known for his keen sense of poetry and a fabulous oratorical skills, simply fell asleep in front of Sanjay Dutt while the latter poured out his woes.

In a tongue-in-cheek voiceover, Ranbir Kapoor’s Sanjay Dutt tells us, “We still don’t know whether he pretended to go to sleep to avoid hearing my problems or he actually fell asleep.”

Anyone familiar with the eminent politicians of our country would know whom the film is referring to.

We also know that the real Sanjay Dutt had met the then-Prime Minister in 1999 for help while visiting New York.

While the censor helmer Prasoon Joshi chose not to comment on this nearly-unambiguous reference to a much-respected political leader, a member of the censor board says, “We all knew whom the film was referring to. But he is mentioned only as ‘The Politician’. If we raised a hue and cry about it this venerated politician’s name would’ve been out in the public domain and the film’s team would have denied it was the politician, we all know.”

Ironically, by concealing the politician’s identity, Sanju resorts to the very ambiguity in the media that the film so savagely attacks.

Since Sanjay Dutt, Ranbir Kapoor and Paresh Rawal make a big noise in Sanju about the Press using the question-mark as an escape route to slanderous reportage, here is one more: is the veteran politician in Sanju who starts snoring while Dutt is venting his woes, who we think he is?

So, it was all the media’s fault. The newspapers, damn them, hid behind question marks and ‘sources’ to declare our Sanju Baba, arrey Sanjay Dutt yaar, a terrorist.

Hirani’s long-awaited bio-pic on the controversial star is long on drama, short on facts. It cleverly makes Sanjay Dutt look like a victim of his own naivete. To his credit, Ranbir Kapoor plays Sanjay Dutt with such ardent goofiness and sincere disingenuousness that I seriously began to wonder if the film’s opening joke—about a bogus biographer played by Piyush Mishra (of all people!) likening Dutt to Bapu—had come true
by the end of the film.

Raj Kumar Hirani and his writer Abhijat Joshi lay the blame for Dutt’s sordid image as a terrorist squarely on the media. There is a silly newspaper editor played by Prakash Belawadi, who is shown as ‘guilty’ of printing an article asking ‘Is Sanjay Dutt Finished?’.

Cut to an awards function where our screen Dutt wins the best actor for Munnabhai MBBS (he did win in real life). Dutt’s father, played by a hopelessly miscast Paresh Rawal, turns around and asks the editor to write another article stating Sanjay Dutt is not finished.

“And this time without the question-mark,” the senior Dutt smirks.

Like it or not, the plot of this semi-truthful bio-pic leaves us with many question marks. While it aptly focuses on building up a case beyond the legal one to substantiate Sanjay Dutt’s image as a victim of his own naivete, it brings into play characters and situations which have no place in the real Sanjay Dutt’s life. The girlfriends whom we’ve all known through the years as being part of the Dutt folklore, are hurriedly dealt with as though they must be gotten out of the way. Sonam Kapoor appears to be playing an amalgamation of Tina Munim and Richa Sharma.

Sonam and Boman Irani (playing her dad) are made part of a horribly cheap joke where a dead-drunk Dutt and his evil conniving Parsi sidekick Zubin Mistry (played by an enormously hammy Jim Sarbh) create a drunken confusion over a drinking binge and the sex act. Laboured and lewd, the gag ranks right up there with Hirani’s ‘balaatkar’ joke in 3 Idiots as the crest of tastelessness, any day filthier than the overflowing toilet in Dutt’s cell.

The modus operandi of this sinfully entertaining semi-fictional bio-pic is to blow up all the situations in Dutt’s drama out of all proportions, and then whittle them all down to a whiny protest where the protagonist becomes the portrait of self-injurious victimhood. Some of it works, thanks to the crackling immediacy that Ranbir and his screen-friend played by Vicky Kaushal bring to their roles.

If only the screenwriter Abhijat Joshi had brought a more mature vision to this friendship. The scenes showing Kapoor and Kaushal whooping it up are like

chunks of all-boys revelry out of Hirani’s 3 Idiots. Again, some of the situations created between the friends reek of lowbrow aspirations. Karisma Tanna as Vicky Kaushal’s girlfriend who sleeps with Dutt deserves the award for the tackiest role played by a woman in recent times.

As For Anushka Sharma, she looks fetching in a Kangana Ranaut wig. But her role as Sanjay Dutt's posh biographer looks like an unfortunate afterthought.

What works is the film’s ferocious pace. The narrative hurls across the catastrophic events in Sanjay Dutt’s life looking for ways to deflect the blame

to anyone except Dutt, to anything from 'buri sangat'(Jim Sarbh) to ma ka pyar(Manisha Koirala's brief Nargis Dutt act)
. Ranbir Kapoor and Vicky Kaushal furnish a funky brotherhood to this one-sided look at a controversial star’s life . Many of the other actors specially Manisha Koirala’s as Sanjay Dutt’s mother, the legendary Nargis, hardly get time to breathe before the narrative hurls them into a whitewashing whirligig.

As for the attempts to create "period" for the 1970s, the best Hirani and his team could do was to play the immortal R D Burman melody Kya yehi pyar while the screen Sanju plays Rocky in his debut film.

And come on, friends didn't use 'bro' to address each other in the 1970s or 80s. How uncool can you get in trying to sound cool!

Wonder what the outspoken Nargis would have to say about this semi-truthful bio-pic on her son.

Beta, late than never? With a question mark, of course.