Swatantrya Veer Savarkar Movie Review: Whitewashing overpowers storytelling in this desperate biopic

Swatantrya Veer Savarkar features some haphazardly edited scenes that are scattered all over the place. Haphazard, not because they are randomly joined together and make no sense, rather, the shots are conjured with an ostensible desperation for artistic brilliance. For instance, after his marriage to Yamunabai (Ankita Lokhande), Vinayak Damodar Savarkar (Randeep Hooda) forms the Abhinav Bharat secret society to work against the British rule. He speaks to his subordinates, including his brother, Ganesh Damodar Savarkar (Amit Sial) and together they pledge to work for their ‘motherland’. This is intercut with the progression of his married life as his wife becomes a mother to their first son. The birth of a movement is intertwined with the birth of a child. One would imagine this scene to have several thematic layers to it. But apart from being a metaphorical device, this intercut serves no purpose, which ends up making it a jarring presence in the film. Later, another curious editing pattern reflects similar issues where a series of shots of his brother secretly distributing a book Vinayak wrote on the 1857 mutiny, are juxtaposed with him giving fiery speeches to his comrades at the India House in London. All of this is backed with music that lends it a certain fervour. However, it fails to bring out the intended emotions. The film loses itself to glorification as the man and his myth take centre stage.

Director: Randeep Hooda
Cast: Randeep Hooda, Amit Sial, Ankita Lokhande, Apinderdeep Singh, Mark Bennington, Russell Geoffrey Banks and Jay Patel

The central theme of the film is the sprawling discussion between violence and non-violence. It feels as if Hooda makes it his personal quest to demean and malign the ways of Gandhi through the use of vicious cinematic tools. In what is purported to be the first meeting between the two, Gandhi asked to meet Savarkar when he was studying in London. It is for historians to comment upon the validity of this instance and its context, but the creative leeway that Hooda takes in designing the scene is concerning. Savarkar is cooking fish for everyone in the kitchen and cleaning it inside out as Gandhi enters. They begin to talk. Words like Buddhism, Ahimsa and Armed Revolution are mentioned. Later, as Savarkar invites Gandhi for lunch, the latter proclaims that he doesn’t eat meat, giving Savarkar the chance to seize the moment. And ‘seize the moment’ he does by ridiculing him and saying, “aap hamare saath lunch nahi kar sake toh ladenge kya? (If you cannot have lunch with us, then how will you join our fight?)”. Calling it a historical fabrication rather than a representation would be apt. Later, in multiple instances, Gandhi is made to say, “Ahimsa Paramodharma (non-violence is the highest moral virtue)”, and at one point, it is intercut right after Madan Lal Dhingra is hanged. Such malicious editing choices and a caricatured portrayal of Gandhi, which renders him weak and without self-respect, are some of the tools with which the film aims to “rewrite history”.

The focus is clearly divided while telling the story. Few scenes that do try to portray authentic human connection end up running flat. The bond which Vinayak shares with his wife and brother is important to the film's emotional core, but when it plays out in crucial scenes, the pain and desperation do not feel authentic. The gap between the character’s hearts and the audience’s reception is a huge one. Randeep’s bland performance doesn’t help either, which majorly relies on singular notes of self-righteous anger, often expressed through stressed eyebrows and clenched jaws. Ankita doesn’t have much screen time for her performance to leave any impact and the usually impeccable Amit Sial seems wasted in a role that doesn’t lend any significant flavour to the film’s overall appeal.

For Hooda, chest-thumping is more important than heart-touching. His scenes create more of a spectacle than any lasting emotional resonance. Some scenes even end up providing unintentional humour. The director also masks certain pivotal points in Savarkar’s life including his mercy petition, which is mentioned in the film but the portrayal makes even the overtly merciful words sound heroic. Further, subtlety meets a fate deadlier than any Britisher killed by the armed revolutionaries, when Hooda looks in the camera and propagates Savarkar’s Hindutva ideology.

If the first half concerned itself with building a larger-than-life persona of Savarkar, the second half establishes him as a staunch Hindu. It is vile when Nathuram Godse is not directly condemned for killing Gandhi. It is viler still when Savarkar consoles an inmate in prison who cries over being converted to Islam after eating meat. He says, “Musalman ka khana kya, poora musalman bhi khaya to bhi musalman nahi banega (Forget about eating a Muslim’s food, even if you eat a Muslim you won’t turn into a Muslim)”. This is what it was all about then; rip parts of history from its context, Muslims from their dignity, Gandhi from his relevance and there you have the three-act structure. As for a conflict or a well-structured plot, well, we don’t do that here.