There has been no dearth of historical dramas in recent times, to put it mildly. And while makers have been increasingly eager to recall the heroism of some of our historical rulers, most of these projects carry a certain cynicism in the way they are conceived. There is little effort to stage a cinematic experience, and the efforts are overwhelmingly desperate to stoke jingoistic sentiments. In that light, Riteish Deshmukh’s Raja Shivaji is an exception — to an extent at least.

There is a heightened emotional charge the Riteish Deshmukh starrer historical drama carries, no doubt, rousing almost to the point of being provocative. And yet, there is a grandiosity to the storytelling here that feels sincere. While the production scale is uneven, and the editing occasionally choppy, the vision has a distinct stamp and ambition. Cinematographer Santosh Sivan’s work is top-notch, capturing the allure of the Maratha empire landscape with due vigour and scale. 

Cast: Riteish Deshmukh, Sanjay Dutt, Abhishek Bachchan, Vidya Balan, Bhagyashree, Genelia Deshmukh, Amole Gupte

Director: Riteish Deshmukh

There is also a classical style to the way the narrative unfolds, taking its time to establish the premise and the key events that shape the conflict. There is no rush at display, in terms of plot progress or wrapping up the exposition-heavy segments. For those unfamiliar with this chapter of Indian history, there is a lot to hear and absorb — and the writers’ team (Riteish Deshmukh in association with Sandeep Patil and Ajit Wadekar) does a fine job of encapsulating it cohesively while maintaining dramatic tension. 

There are several chapters where the narrative truly earns its mythical staging, like the first battle a grown-up Shivaji leads for Torna Fort where actor-director goes all out in creating an operatic atmosphere in this sequence. Sanjay Dutt plays Afzal Khan, a devilish veteran general who revels in asserting his might with brute -- and Riteish Deshmukh captures his ferocity in a staggering introduction sequence that might have poorly-done CGI elephants but also carry a cinematic energy that is in sync with this scale of the story. Ajay-Atul’s score too is amazingly in tandem with the pitch, almost transcendental in places. And then, there’s the old-school weightage to sentimentality, with conscious space made for moments that connect Shivaji to the people around him, reminding us of his humanity amidst all the hero-worshipping. 

The ensemble Riteish Deshmukh assembles here is impressive. Most of the cast members are clearly having a ball imbibing the period drama shtick. Vidya Balan particularly, playing a shrewd power-hungry queen, is stellar, and so is Abhishek Bachchan, who brings a distinct grit to Sambha Ji. It is exciting to see Amole Gupte play Adil Shah, an emperor who is only as threatening as you perceive him to be. Meanwhile, Bhagyashree, playing Shivaji’s mother, completely owns the role of the loving yet fierce mother figure whose word is the last command.

However, something goes amiss in the second half. Despite the technical prowess at work and the zealous efforts at action-design, the story of Shivaji remains a far more vast, expansive narrative, the one that encompasses countless power moves between multiple empires. Perhaps realising there is just too much ground to cover and too little time, Riteish Deshmukh the filmmaker shifts the goalpost. It’s an interesting experiment, the way the actor-filmmaker builds the prelude to the long-impending truce meeting between Shivaji (Riteish Deshmukh) and Afzal. That one-hour segment is structured like one huge film in itself, as one awaits for the confrontation even as forces of nature intervene and many negotiations are held to dictate the terms and conditions. However, this is also when Raja Shivaji entirely loses its sense of pacing. And the way the narrative transitions from the much-awaited confrontation to the climactic victory battle feels hurried and perfunctory. 

It’s also hard to shake off a sense of dog-whistling meanwhile, as one frequently hears terms like ‘Our land,’ ‘invaders’ and ‘the backstabbing ilk.’ There are regular (and factually questionable) mentions of desecration of temples. It's hard to ignore the symbolism of a young kid, celebrating Dussehra while dressed up as Hanuman, being attacked by Deccan empire soldiers. Like most recent period-dramas, Raja Shivaji is also convenient with its historical accuracy — any mention of the British Empire is completely avoided, and so are Shivaji’s other forms of asserting reign over neighbouring regions. It’s almost like the temptation is far too irresistible, to give into the broad strokes and create a narrative where battles were fought and men were killed for other motives than power. 

But this Riteish Deshmukh vehicle has bigger problems. At a runtime of 195 minutes and with too much ground to cover, Raja Shivaji eventually becomes a laborious watch, crumbling under the weight of its own lofty ambitions.