EKLAVYA – THE ROYAL GUARD: Misplaced Grandeur

Vidhu Vinod Chopra is, undeniably, a stylish filmmaker. Often, though, his obsession with cinematic grace is defeated by flawed scripts. His latest work, 'Eklavya – The Royal Guard' is a case in point. Chopra sets up this macabre drama (with obvious Shakespearean influences) about palace intrigue, loyalty, duty and destiny by narrating the story of Mahabharat's Eklavya who repaid his debt to his teacher Dronacharya by cutting off the thumb on his right hand.

The modern day Eklavya (Amitabh Bachchan) is a devoted sentinel at the Devigarh palace who has sired the Rana's (Boman Irani) twins Harshwardhan (Saif Ali Khan) and Nandini (Raima Sen) -- in the line of duty, no less -- but is sentenced to a life of ignominy and servitude as the royal guard. When an ailing queen (Sharmila Tagore wearing eye-liner on her deathbed?) calls out Eklavya's name instead of her husband's the Rana apparently stumbles upon the palace's best-kept secret!

The violent chain of events that follows -- involving, Harshwardhan, the Rana's jealous brother (Jackie Shroff) and his discontented son (Jimmy Shergill, impressive) -- leaves Eklavya faced with the prospect of sacrificing what's most precious to him all over again. And here lies the soul of Chopra's film -- how the rights and wrongs of life change with perspective. It's a very interesting take on moral postures and tempering reason with passion.

However, for the film to drive home its larger-than-life point effectively, the director had to make the pivotal players worthy of empathy. Barring Eklavya, none of the characters (including, unfortunately, Harshwardhan) are developed well enough to evoke the kind of stateliness the occasion demands. And since the outside world rarely touches these hoity royals, the entire drama must be drawn from within the confines of the palace. As a result, the epic philosophical questions that he attempts to raise appear diminutive when placed before this sketchy ensemble.

And then the opulence of the Devigarh palace, the lavish ornate rooms, the innumerable fluttering pigeons, the exquisite visual design dominated by shades of red and black all seem like mere props -- looking as unfashionable as the aristocracy itself (as Sanjay Dutt's DSP Chohar keeps reiterating).

Chopra's craft however, is flawless, sometimes even audacious. In a film dominated by exquisite visual tapestry, the scene that stands out by a stretch is one when Eklavya (a perfect marksman like his mythological predecessor) is on the prowl and hunts out his prey in pitch darkness. The filmmaker does the unthinkable by actually leaving us to stare at a blank screen for over two minutes as the protagonist and his quarry wait for the inevitable with bated breath.

N Nataraja Subramanian's cinematography if breath-taking, as is the single song "Chanda re" picturised on the woefully under-utilised Vidya Balan. The background score however rankles with its excessive use of Sanskrit intonations, perhaps meant to portend something prophetic, or to elevate the proceedings to a level of profundity that the script just cannot scale.

Amitabh Bachchan naturally gets a lion's share of screen space and truly overwhelms with his dramatic rendition (far more subdued than his 'Black' hysterics) of the central character. Surprisingly, Saif Ali Khan doesn't try to match he senior actor's histrionics and still holds his own in a superbly understated performance. The rest of the cast (including Sanjay Dutt), are left to their own wits to make what they can of their ill-developed roles.

Despite its thin plot, 'Eklavya – The Royal Guard' has enough meat to hold your attention for most part (and occasionally even charm you quite unexpectedly). But the end ruins it all when Chopra inexplicably switches tracks to give his dark, disconcerting subject a fairy tale ending simply to put his audience in a merry mood.

Deepa Gumaste