As expected, Sachin: A Billion Dreams, a documentary on the life of Sachin Tendulkar, begins with a resounding chant of, “Sachin...Sachin...”, along with a montage of all his glorious moments of victory and achievement. Right at the onset, you know a halo has been placed over the cricketer’s head, and the film will vehemently insist on being a tribute, rather than a documentary chronicling the life of a sports star and a cricket-obsessed nation. But perhaps it works best that way for a film targeted primarily at Tendulkar’s fans.
For a celebrity, whose life has been under constant media limelight since he was barely 16, the documentary makes very little effort to take you beyond what’s already known (or written on his Wikipedia page). It comes across as a self-indulgent story told by a friend of the cricketer rather than a silent spectator. The Emmy award-winning filmmaker, James Erskine, seems to have limited access to a critical view of the cricketer’s life, especially considering that the voices in the documentary comprise of Sachin, his friends, family, teammates and admirers. Periodically, the documentary also makes perfunctory attempts at commenting on the parallel growth of a nation alongside the rise of a sports celebrity.
During the few times that the documentary does broach seemingly uncomfortable topics of failure, injury and match-fixing, it also sees the cricketer being overly apologetic, defensive or remorseful. It’s no doubt that Tendulkar’s story is an extraordinary tale of triumph, hard work and perseverance.
But the unfolding of events—ones not focused on Tendulkar as a cricketer but a friend, father, husband or son—are dealt in a flippant and excessively bubbly fashion. Despite a chronological narrative, the documentary flitters between various topics and forcibly injects footage of Tendulkar as a friend and a father to provide a breather during intense moments, making them seem highly incongruent.
That’s not to say that the documentary is completely bereft of delightful moments outside of cricket. The unwavering support of Anjali Tendulkar in the cricketer’s life and his affection towards his father is depicted in the right amount and at the right times. But even for someone who barely follows cricket, the most riveting part about the documentary remains the matches and the psychological workings behind them. The archival footage of the games are well woven together to make a gripping narrative. For a documentary aimed at a larger Indian audience, the packaging is expectedly dramatic and cloaked with emotional and manipulative background music. The camera work is steady, and ‘undocumentary-like’, in an apparent effort to make Sachin: A Billion Dreams seem more like a feature film than a documentary.
Erskine builds the sports drama to a befitting finale, filled with chants and cheers. It’s an ending that aptly rebuilds a sense of pride and affection for Tendulkar during the 2011 Cricket World Cup and his retirement in 2013. But ultimately, the film remains an enjoyable experience strictly for Tendulkar’s fans or for those who’ve just discovered him and want to know more.
