Epic as empty spectacle

I just saw the trailer of the new Ramayana movie scheduled for release this Diwali and was disappointed, to say the least. No – my complaint is not about the sloppy way in which AI has been used or the inaccuracies already in the trailer, although those are honestly annoying as well. My complaint is that we have an epic story that has held great significance for us for centuries, and we have still not found ways to engage with it deeply or with any kind of intellectual honesty whatsoever, beyond the level of a four-year-old.

Whether Adipurush or this adaptation of the epic, new movies or serialisations make the Ramayana out to be an action movie of some kind, with bizarre other-worldly centuries running amok merely to display skills in I-am-not-sure-what-exactly, and chiselled-looking heroes with six-packs (definitely not the ancient version of good looks).

And yes, I get that there is a lot of interesting action in the Ramayana. Rama kills plenty of demons, the battle takes up a lot of space in the epic, and yes, Rama kills Ravana, Kumbhakarna, and other interesting figures. Indians tend to get misty-eyed at displays of filial devotion, but an increasing number of comments on this trailer mentioned that something seemed missing despite Ranbir Kapoor as Rama prostrating before Dasharatha’s feet. I would venture to suggest – perhaps what the story needs is not more gilded wheels or mythical creatures shown in painstaking detail, but a bit more brain?

The most interesting and enduring aspect of the epics, whether the Ramayana or the Mahabharata, is that they raise questions that still have no easy answers today. And these questions are raised in the epics themselves, by characters who are recognised within the epics as good. The Ramayana, as far as its love story is concerned, is essentially a tragedy. Sita, first put to the test by fire by her beloved Rama, and then abandoned when pregnant, stands as a question even if she never poses it herself. How was her fate just?

And this is not a modern issue. This question has been asked over and over again in the commentarial tradition and in poetic and dramatic adaptations of the Ramayana. Even Kalidasa, who changes the Shakuntala-Dushyanta story to make Dushyanta more palatable, voices his indignation at Rama’s abandonment of Sita through the wise sage Valmiki’s words to her: “Yes, he rid the world of the thorn in its side – Ravana. Yes, he always keeps his word. And yes, he is never vain. Despite all this, I am still angry at Rama for treating you offensively.”

The Mahabharata, of course, has a thousand more shades of grey. In fact, the villain Duryodhana, as he lies dying on the battlefield with his thighs broken by Bhima, receives a shower of flowers from the gods. What does it all mean? I don’t suggest modern adaptations can solve these problems, but perhaps acknowledging that they exist might be a good start?

One interesting format was that of the series Dharmakshetra, which showed a new kind of conflict where the major Mahabharata characters meet in the afterlife to have their fates decided and air their grievances against each other, similar to a court proceeding. While the complaints raised were rather uninspired, the structure at least promoted some thinking beyond the basic story of the epic. If all we want is an animated movie for children, The Legend of Prince Ram did a fine job already.

The boldest innovation now possible in a Ramayana adaptation would be a passing acquaintance with the problems of the Ramayana. But never mind me – after all, the Ramayana has survived centuries of kings, kingdoms, poets, and commentators. Perhaps it will survive the unthinking reverence of its fans, too.

The writer is the author of How to Love in Sanskrit and likes writing new things about very old things.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.