Documenting the golden era of Indian football through a moving tribute to its architect Syed Abdul Rahim, Maidaan makes space for soccer in a cricket-crazed nation. Like the fortunes of Indian football, Maidaan’s journey has also been jinxed because of several reasons. It is sad that during the making of the film we lost the fearsome trio of P.K. Banerjee, Chunni Goswami and Tulsidas Balaram that won us the 1962 Asian Games gold medal at Jakarta. However, the wait has been worth it as director Amit Ravindernath Sharma scores at least three goals.
Led by a fully invested Ajay Devgn as the chain-smoking Rahim, the film attempts to remove the miasma from the period when India was a football powerhouse in Asia, a chapter that has slipped out of public memory. It records the times when football drove the aspirations of the youth of the newly independent nation, without romanticising it.
There are visuals of barefoot magicians getting trampled upon by European heavyweights but the film doesn’t take a maudlin route to exploit the tender emotions. And though it is an Eid release, it doesn’t stereotype the identity of Rahim.
The highlight of the film is the pulsating sports action backed by an equally thumping background score by A.R. Rahman that we haven’t experienced before in Hindi films. Russian cinematographer Andrey Valantsov’s camera breathlessly follows the men running with purpose for their dignity and the pride of the nation. Making the audience smell the sweat and blood of the men possessed, together they capture the pace, the thrill, and the raw appeal of the Beautiful Game. The cries and celebration of the players feel real. Shahnawaz Mosani’s sharp editing brings amazing clarity to Rahim’s trademark 4-2-4 formation and the complex moves on the field to create scoring opportunities are cogently explained without missing a heartbeat.
Well researched, the film makes you reflect on the contribution of Jarnail Singh, whom Rahim in a masterstroke turned from a defender to a striker in crucial matches, and goalkeeper Peter Thangaraj (Tejas Ravishankar), who played in the final with an injury. Not to forget the solid half-back Fortunato Franco (Madhur Mittal) and the dependable mid-fielder and defender Arun Ghosh (Aaman Munshi).
Maidaan (Hindi)
Outside the field, the film’s production design has the aesthetic quality of a good television commercial. Amit has emerged from the advertising background and is one of those who have made a smooth transition to cinema, tapping into diverse genres. His last film was the keenly observed social comedy Badhaai Ho. Unlike some of his contemporaries from the advertising world, his visual grammar is not in-your-face. Now and then, you do feel like a product would pop up soon but overall Amit eschews the decoration that defines his previous profession.
A still from ‘Maidaan’
For a film that has a lot of emotional drama to mine, Maidaan follows a detached approach. It doesn’t overtly dramatise that while Rahim’s chaps are scaling new heights on the field, he is losing the battle to a deadly disease. It doesn’t milk the thread when he doesn’t pick his talented son in the team ahead of others. But when it comes to portraying the parochial sports journalist (played by Gajraj Rao) and the conniving sports administrator — the obstacles in Rahim’s path — Amit goes a bit overboard. He turns them into one-note, cigar-smoking villains of yore.
It makes the film fall into the template of sports drama where sports administrators are shown as parasites out to feed on the talent of sportspersons to fulfill their vested interests. It may be the case but as we have seen it multiple times, it no longer holds a surprise value. There are passages where the narrative follows a predictable pattern of officials ganging up in a smoke-filled room to keep Rahim out. As the film is spread over three hours, it makes you shift in the seat and wait for the boys to take the field.
Moreover, Amit largely treats the heroes like a devoted fan. It means the tension and humour of the locker room are not fully realised. There are absorbing insights into the temperament of Jarnail Singh and how Rahim turns Chunni Goswami (Amartaya Ray) into a team man. However, at a time when the officials were promoting regionalism, the exact way the players dealt with the scourge is hardly touched upon. The intense Bengal-Hyderabad rivalry during the period is referred to in passing.
Ajay switches on his intense mode to keep us hooked to the proceedings. His eyes carry the purpose and the pain of a man obsessed with football. However, the writers haven’t explored the delicious contrast of why the suited-booted Rahim was called Moulvi Sahib, according to some accounts. He had a soft spot for Urdu poetry but pushed his wife (Priyamani tries to look the part) to learn English.
Still, Maidaan needs to be populated as one hopes that it spurs the young generation to take their love for the game from screens to the field and prove the saying that Rahim took Indian football to grave with him wrong.
Maidaan will release in theatres on April 11
