A Movie Review by Kavita A Chhibber
When I decided to go and watch the film, I did not read the reviews or what it was about. There are a handful of actors, whose films I will see in a heartbeat because I know they will bring something special to the film.
I’ve been an #ajaydevgan fan since Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam.
And so seeing #Maidaan was a no brainer.
But watching this stellar film directed by #AmitSharma, so many memories of my father – his passion for football, the stories he would share about the genius of S.A. Rahim, the politics and egos that sidelined so many great coaches and players, and not just in football – came rushing back.
I was telling Kapil Dev, that my father would have been the happiest discussing his football stint at East Bengal (and not cricket) with him. Cricket was his third or fourth favorite sport after football, hockey and athletics.
So many people don’t know the impact Rahim had in his short life on Indian football.
He died of lung cancer aged 53. But he rewrote football history for India. Something that has not been emulated since his death in 1963.
I wasn’t born when India suffered a humiliating defeat against Yugoslavia at the Helsinki Olympics losing 1-10 with the Indians playing in bare feet versus their opponents wearing modern boots.
I heard those stories from my dad.
It was Rahim who brought in the boots and succeeded in finding phenomenal talents like Chuni Goswami, Tulsidas Balaram and PK Banerjee.
Under Rahim’s coaching, Neville D’Souza’s hat trick and Indian victory over Australia in the Melbourne Olympics led to India becoming the first Asian nation to reach the semi finals, eventually finishing fourth.
The film also traces the story of Rahim falling out of favor with the football federation, and the politics and ego that continue to mar Indian sports before he was grudgingly reinstated just before the 1962 Asian games. He was still not allowed to take a full team.
The Asiad is like a mini Olympics.
I’ve known for as long as I wrote about sports, that politics and diplomacy (or lack of it), have immense power and impact in every arena, national or international.
And one undiplomatic comment at Jakarta almost marred India’s stellar victory in the finals.
Rahim coached the Indian national team from 1950 till his death in 1963 and India has floundered since then.
My dad would often talk about Rahim’s genius and his personal favorites in that team. I only know of many of the players thanks to Dad introducing me to football, hockey, cricket and encouraging me to play these games.
It is always wonderful to see underdog stories, to celebrate heroes and teams.
83, Bhaag Milkha Bhaag, for example, celebrated those stars who remained larger than life in our psyche. And larger still in our memories.
But what made this film special for me was that it celebrated a long forgotten unsung hero, whose only dream was to see India on the international map. There was no desire for personal glory.
What I loved about the film was the lack of melodrama and verbosity.
Amit Sharma said in an interview that he had doubts about Ajay Devgn being the right person for the role, because he could not get his Singham image out of his head.
Sharma’s research showed Rahim to be a very humble man of few words.
Fazeel, the grandson of Rahim, said his mother used to say (and I loosely paraphrase): her father spoke very little but his eyes spoke volumes.
Fazeel said the way Ajay carried himself – from walking, to smoking, his intense eyes, holding a bag, the slightly bent walk – was all too real.
Amit Sharma said he told Ajay that the film was not likely to be dialogue driven.
But then that’s what sets Ajay apart. He emotes with understated finesse, speaks with his eyes, and conveys far more without speaking than most actors can despite punch-driven dialogues.
I guess Amit Sharma struck gold as well!!
The powerful visuals and Devgn’s equally power packed performance brought back to life some of India’s most powerful victories and the golden era of Indian football.
Ajit and I were marveling at the shots and recreation of the famous matches that were reenacted so brilliantly. Very tough to have that precision and even tougher to choreograph and execute. The sound was also brilliantly implemented – one could feel every swooshing tackle to each swift dribble and powerful kick of the ball.
Perhaps the most important sentiment I took away from the film were the two dialogues mentioned below.
“Mujhe states ke naam na sunaayi dete hain na dikhayee,” and “Aaj Maidaan me utarna 11, lekin dikhna Ek.”
I wish not just the sports authorities, local and national emulate these lines, but we as human beings can do so as well in this intensely divisive world.
Go watch the film in a theater near you and make it a success. It took four years to make this film. So thank you #BoneyKapoor for sticking with the team.
We need many more stories like these to inspire us than some of the crappy films that “win” at the box office.
(Photo credit: Times of India)