In Defence of Jawan: Meeting SRK in the South

There’s something unique about Jawan. In the first half, before everything is turned up a notch due to different causes, SRK (whose name in this movie doesn’t matter) spends a moment with Suji (his soon-to-be-daughter). As she explains what she expects from a father, SRK looks on with an expression he has mastered, a calming, emotional expression that says he is falling in love. And as fans, you fall in love, too, mainly because you have seen the same expression in twenty other films. But also because you end up realizing something. SRK was a romantic hero at some point, but now, most of his relationships on-screen don’t scream out for romance. Instead, his relationships with his leading ladies and everyone else are friendly. His charm extends to every side character. And you don’t question his story when he kisses the forehead of a fallen comrade in the movie.

Not the Common Man

Atlee and Shankar's movies have a common thread. Their heroes look common but aren’t. They’re also good fathers, husbands, boyfriends, and other things. There’s no need for complexities here because the story is simple. It’s the story of a superhero is saving people. And if you could slap a pair of tights on Vijay in “Mersal,” you’d have felt the same. This follows Rajnikanth, Vijay, through Kamal Hassan (in the recently released “Vikram,” he shakes off a knife wound like nothing). SRK is following the same thread. He could have died a thousand times over in Jawan. But the story doesn’t need to make sense. The standard connection lies in them being the “common” man. Vijay’s character in Kaththi comes to mind. Of his two roles, only one is a superhero. The other one gets beat up and doesn’t have a way to escape prison, but the superhero can solve problems in a second, create a revolution with his words, and do so much more. Looking at “Revolution in Everyday Life,” we’re not discussing things that Vijay or SRK do in these movies. The all-powerful nature of the hero drives the plotline forward. And this has been a trope in Action movies forever. Forgive the blasphemy here, but in Kurosawa movie, when one Samurai cuts down everyone else, or when the outlaws win again in a Billy Wilder movie, it follows the same thread. Creating “Legends” out of ordinary men by covering them in plot armor is a time-honored legacy in movies. It can manifest in two ways. * The authority figure – A policeman doing the right thing (think Salman Khan in Dabbang) * The non-authority figure – An ordinary man taking on the ever-present system (Vijay movies in general) Movies from the South have long created these mythical characters in opposition to hierarchy. The “CM for a single day” trope was exploited in “Nayak” so efficiently. “Nayak” also shows that the system catches up with you eventually, and then you need to do things in queer ways to defeat the system (in this case, a brilliant Amrish Puri.) In Jawan, the system catches up to SRK even after the big win. And an all-out fight gives him the final win. It’s also an excellent metaphor for how the state works. Movements can drive changes but are silvery veneer on the rotting legislature underneath.

Of Illogic and Other Scenes

Illogic is the thread that ties a lot of masala movies together. This is by design because you can’t imagine these heroes to be the same people as us. No one looks at “Singham” and fantasizes that the pot-bellied cop in the neighborhood is the same person. No, it’s an ideal they follow and someone they aspire to become at the end of the day. SRK crafts this illogic with expertise. In the movie, the narrative often impressively shifts from him. When someone complains about him, his followers tell his long-winded story without breaks. He manages when he comes to the jail, and the ground applauds. In showing backbreaking work done by prisoners, we see him participating in the work. In a way, the “illogic” that Atlee crafts in his films is that of idealism beyond reason. This idealism might seem alien to anyone who follows the logical traps in capitalism; for communists and anarchists, this idealism is the core of our philosophy. But, no, the film isn’t communist. It defers to authority and depends on the Army and Police to mette out its justice (even if illegal, the authority figures are the only ones shown as being just.) The critical point to focus on in the film is that idealism is essential to drive changes, and it can make a significant dent. In this case, the stories of the girls who surround SRK help in a significant way. So does the collective disillusionment with the “system.” At points in the film, it’s said that if the system wanted to do right, it would. That’s where the film fails because the truth that Atlee won’t admit in movies is that the system can’t do right. It must be broken down from the outside to make the change. Something that SRK does in the film. This is also illogical, but an ideal system would do this. And if nothing else, masala movies are a function of belief.

Having fun and loving it

My partner is not a fan of SRK. But, in the middle of the film, we discussed how the performance seemed platonic by default. Even during implied sex, SRK looks more like a friend. He does not have lust but admiration in his eyes. And it doesn’t take away from the chemistry either. The film is filled with small, consequential details like these. SRK spends a long time having fun with his costars. The director has fun putting in dialogues from other films and creating long references that don’t make any extra additions to the movie. It’s a fun film because it seems like a collaboration between the people involved. When the blood drop falls into the dirt in the first scene, you feel the cameraman, who has waited for a shot like that for years, laughing. You also feel joy in the dialogues. “Naam to Suna Hoga” hasn’t sounded this joyful since the 2000s. And when other people have fun, having fun yourself is so much easier, which is what matters. Beyond philosophy, beyond long speeches, “Jawan” is about fun in the movies in a way we haven’t had in a while. Part of that is because of the heavy-handed politics that demand un-fun to be a part of Bollywood films throughout.

Nationalism isn’t Fun, yeah, really

In early 2014, Akshay Kumar could do no wrong. He had a long string of hits and was firing on all cylinders. But that fell short in the decade since then. It appears that nationalism is a strong story, but no one likes seeing the authority win repeatedly. Because, at the core, we all understand that the state is wrong. We have understood and internalized that fact quite effectively over the years. Even staunch bhakhts are aware of corruption and the small ways in which they miss out on their chances. They just blame the wrong people for it because of propaganda. But, the overarching story of authority winning is less resonant than other stories. This is why films like “Pushpa” and “RRR” work. They’re stories of people rising against the system and not for it. Thus, nationalism must hide behind the pretenses of rising against the system, craft separate narratives, and try to win that way. But it's no longer working, and the people are looking back at SRK. This isn’t a win, but it's something to celebrate, and we haven’t had one of those reasons in a decade. And that’s why “Jawan” works, and I love it. I love it so much.