Guru

Guru (Mani Ratnam, 2007)

*SPOILER WARNING*

 

Pretty much anyone will tell you that Guru is essentially a biopic. If you look up Dhirubhai Ambani (wait until after you’ve seen the film, so you can still enjoy it on its own filmi merits like I did) you’ll see that there are way, way too many striking parallels between the plot of the film and its fictional protagonist Gurukant Desai, and the rags to riches life of textiles baron Dhirubhai Ambani for it to be mere coincidence.

Besides, making a Bollywood film about a guy who is just really really passionate about textiles? There’s got to be something else going on, right?

But that, beautiful blog readers, is the question. What IS this film REALLY about? I’ll lay all my cards out on the table right now and tell you three key things:

1. Before I started watching I thought this movie was going to be really really boring. Because let’s face it: “A semi-fictionalised account of the life of a polyester baron” doesn’t really sound like a gripping thrill-ride of emotion.

2. I was wrong: this film is not boring at all. I REALLY REALLY ENJOYED IT.

3. Days later, I am still not sure exactly what Mani-sir was trying to say. But actually this might be why I enjoyed it so much. I love films that inhabit and explore those grey areas – and Bollywood is so black and white so often, it’s refreshing to plunge into murky, puzzling territory every now and then.

I just really liked this shot. So we’ll say it’s to illustrate my ‘shades of grey’ point. 

So the story of Guru is, like I said up there somewhere, an account of the life of a polyester baron, and how Gurukant Desai (Abhishek Bachchan) works his way up from being a small-time textile merchant to one of the most powerful men in India. Or if you want to look at it another way: Abhishek Bachchan goes from fresh-faced bright young thing:

Scho schweet! I wanna pinch his cheeks!

to this:

Dude needs to shave.

Guru is undoubtedly a character defined by his ambition. The most interesting question this film raises is: at what point does ‘ambition’, or what a person is willing to do in the name of ‘progress’ become a negative thing? Initially Guru’s ambition to succeed is endearing; the cheekiness and ingenuity he exhibits in finding loopholes to open the doors closed to him as a newcomer to the textiles market is admirable and as an audience member, I am totally on his side.

Fast forward to the peak of Guru’s career, when he wields much more power, but uses those same tools: cheekiness, charm, ingenuity, plus his powerful standing with the government and society to remove obstacles from the path to further progress. Like changing the law to suit his needs. Like using the media to run a smear campaign against his competitors. Am I still on his side? Even if the ultimate result of what he is doing is “for the public good” and for the “progress” of India?

The waters are muddied further when, just as Guru is being portrayed as a ‘bad’ guy, the ‘good guys’ out to expose his dodgy business dealings resort to faking evidence to support their claims. Am I really on their side? Even if what Guru is doing is technically wrong, so is what THEY are doing – who is going to expose them? If everyone is corrupt, does it matter?

R. Madhavan plays Shyam Saxena, a reporter bent on exposing Guru’s deceit. 

There’s no black and white answer, because human beings are neither wholly good nor wholly bad. Good people can do terrible things; bad people are capable of acts of kindness. And that’s why I like Guru. Abhishek’s Gurukant is neither a saint nor a villain, he’s a human being. Flawed, ambitious, out of shape:

Flabhishek?

 

at times admirable, at times despicable, but understandably, recognisably human. So are all the characters – flawed, realistic, recognisable. Except for maybe Aishwarya, who doesn’t appear to age at all.

Pretty, na?

Key to it all, I think, is that for a film about a businessman reputed to be involved in some pretty dodgy practices, and climaxing in a court-case revolving around said claims, Guru doesn’t really spend much time at all showing anything to do with business (thank god, because: SNORE).

Instead, the film focuses on relationships. There are several key relationships, but two major ones.

There’s Guru’s relationship with his wife, Sujata (Aishwarya Rai). Initially, he marries her because he needs the dowry money (and before you tut tut, remember it’s only relatively recently in the West that marriage HASN’T been a pure business transaction) and she is damaged goods, having already tried to run off with another man.  The love that blossoms between them is an unexpected gift. Abhi and Aish together in this film are so adorably convincingly in love, I was not at all surprised when I read it was just after Guru released that they announced their engagement. Seriously, the scene where they start playfighting in bed? THEY ARE SO NOT ACTING. I AM WILLING TO BET ON THIS.

Stop calling me Flabishek. It’s not funny anymore.

The other relationship that is hugely significant to Guru is his father figure/nemesis Manikdas Gupta (Mithun Chakraborty). Gupta helps Guru as he is starting out in Bombay, and Guru remains intensely loyal to him. Both men are hugely stubborn about their increasingly opposing values and ideals, though, and even when this endangers their friendship neither is willing to back down, despite a deep bond of love that links them.

I do dabble in disco dance. I’d be delighted to demonstrate.

So that’s what I think Guru is partly about, and what the message boils down to: you are defined not by what you do for a living, but by the relationships you forge in life.

But I’m still figuring it out. One thing’s for sure. I cannot wait for Raavan.