15 years of Saawariya: Ranbir Kapoor and Sonam Kapoor starrer follows no rules of romance, it creates its own

In Saawariya, taking Fyodor Dostoevsky’s minuscule play White Nights, Sanjay Leela Bhansali has built huge but unimposing emotions classified by dollops of awe-inspiring studio-erected architecture that represents feelings rather than physical forms. This is the director’s most subtle and mellow creation. Prakash Kapadia’s dialogues let Ranbir Kapoor ’s character of Ranbir Raj speak in a language that is modern and yet timelessly lovelorn. The plot, if one may call it that, is a story of unrequited love told in shades of blue. Bhansali’s narrative spins its sensuous web around chance encounters in and around a square set in a timeless land where clocks chime to the rhythm of a besotted heart and neon signs straight out of a bright Broadway pay cheeky homage to Bollywood’s past, including Raj Kapoor, of course. Ranbir Raj sings and performs at a club called Raj’s Bar when he isn’t chasing the enigmatic Sakina ( Sonam Kapoor ) across an arched bridge that symbolises the end of hope and the beginning of love. Sakina, if you must know, is on an eternal wait. A stranger ( Salman Khan ) walked into her home and life, walked out and promised to return. The lacuna between longing and fulfilment is filled by a young man who dances, sings, makes faces, writes love letters, protects Sakina from the rain, but alas, cannot protect himself from the heartbreak that awaits him under the bridge. You can see reflections of Raj Kapoor’s persona from Sri 420 and Chhalia in Ranbir’s acting in Saawariya. And his relationship with his outwardly harsh landlady – played by the gloriously spirited Zohra Sehgal – is a wonderful recreation of the bond between Raj Kapoor and Lalita Pawar in Anari. Ranbir’s acting is a dangerously extravagant and bravura performance that could’ve toppled over under the weight of the character’s inherent exhibitionism. But with his director’s help, Ranbir succeeds. The emotions that run across the gossamer frames of this fragilely structured play-on-celluloid are woven with the delicacy that one associates with Kashmiri carpets. Ironically, though requiring more attention and detailing(that Kashmiri carpet) than all his earlier works, Saawariya is Bhansali’s simplest story to date. The age-old boy-meets-girl format has been taken to the plane of purest expressionism. The enchanting encounters between the two star-crossed lovers shown in the film furnish the slim but haunting plot with the feeling of a play where the characters forget they are on stage.

The film’s consciously created staginess is its biggest virtue. It lends an otherworldly quality to the frames. The wispy characters may or may not exist outside the prostitute-narrator Rani Mukerji’s playful mind. Maybe she’s making up this beautiful tale of one-sided love and perhaps the boy-man she took under her wings is just a figment of her imagination. Rani’s character is inspired by Aruna Irani in Raj Kapoor’s Bobby. The disarming delicacy with which art directors Omang and Vinita Kumar and cinematographer Ravi Chandran have built the blue foundations of the film’s ravishingly romantic imagination lifts Dostoevsky’s play to the sphere of poetry. Monty Sharma’s soul-stirring music adds an entirely new dimension to the story of waiting and suffering. As expected from a Bhansali creation, the film is bathed in visuals that overpower the senses. The sequence where Sonam runs across a gauntlet of perpendicularly hung carpets beating a dust storm out of their beautiful fabric is a moment of sensual eruption. In Saawariya, Sonam does not know what or whom she is running from or what she will run into. She is Nutan in Bandini, Aishwarya in Hum…Dil De Chuke Sanam and Waheeda Rehman in Pyasa. Saawariya is like a dream where the characters themselves live in a dream world. Escape from this world is akin to death. No one dies in Bhansali’s majestic make-belief world and nothing wilts. Not even love when it is taken away from the boy who loves to entertain the unhappy girl in distress. I spent many evenings with Bhansali’s two protégés Ranbir Kapoor and Sonam Kapoor and also watched them shoot the film. It was a revelation. I could see Ranbir was born for the camera. He was also great fun to be with, mimicking everyone from Shah Rukh Khan to Hrithik Roshan. When the camera came on he was transformed like Geeta Bali, Sridevi and his own father Rishi Kapoor (though I still think the senior Kapoor to be a better actor). And when Ranbir danced, he conveyed such joy such a state of liberation. It was like watching a male version of Waheeda Rehman doing Aaj phir jeene ki tammanah hai. Sonam, I am afraid, was not that easy to direct. In fact, she took a lot more time to get into the groove than Ranbir. I remember one day while shooting the song Hamari jaan ho tum, Ranbir got the steps right in one take. Sonam just couldn’t get it right. The entire day passed. I could see Sanjay getting more and more disturbed as the clock ticked away. Saawariya was not destined for immediate success. Its operatic movement and its blue-shaded romance took a long while to register with the audience. I remember my dear much-missed friend Rituparno Ghosh and I were embroiled in heated debates over the film. He hated it the first time. He loved it the second time. And was gracious enough to call me and apologize. Everyone who bitched about the film should apologize. Saawariya is to Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s career what Mera Naam Joker and Kaagaz Ke Phool were to Raj Kapoor and Guru Dutt. The premiere night itself was a disaster. The hero’s father Rishi Kapoor didn’t like the film and he didn’t hide the fact that he didn’t. A leading filmmaker known for his glamorous profile and elitist coterie of groupies was frantically sending text messages to all his friends with two words—Shit Film— in a row next to where I was sitting. Elsewhere Kangana Ranaut was angry with me for reasons I can’t recall. The next morning when Saawariya released everyone associated with the film had disappeared from Sanjay’s life. The next few days were the most painful time of the director’s life. How painful? Ask any successful director when he delivers an unexpected flop. Today Saawariya is regarded as a cult film. I don’t think Ranbir Kapoor could ever match the artless ebullience of that performance. You see, back then he didn’t know how good it was. Subhash K Jha is a Patna-based film critic who has been writing about Bollywood for long enough to know the industry inside out. He tweets at @SubhashK_Jha. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook ,  Twitter  and  Instagram .