Wednesday 11 December 2019

Fact-Checking Ashutosh Gowarikar's Panipat


Ashutosh Gowarikar’s Panipat: The Great Betrayal was released on the 6th of December. The film presents itself as a fictionalized version of the historic battle. In India this is generally code for “we couldn’t bother to do enough research and decided to play fast and loose with history”. I watched the film at the historic Star Theatre in Kolkata today, and here are some odd things about the film that I noticed




GRAPES

In the film, Ahmed Shah Abdali, upon his arrival in India, is delighted by a platter of “sweet Indian fruits” which are presented to him, saying that it makes the trouble of getting to India worth it. Chief among the fruits are pomegranates and grapes. In reality, both these fruits came to India either from or through Afghanistan, and therefore Abdali himself would have been well acquainted with them. Nothing out of the ordinary for him.

AHMAD SHAH ABDALI DIDN’T LOOK LIKE THAT

This is where Gowariker missed his greatest chance to create a truly frightening looking villain. By the time Abdali had come to the battlefield of Panipat, his face was literally being eaten away by leprosy. In fact, his nose had dropped off long ago, and he had replaced it with a diamond studded nose! Sounds too good to be true? Check out the following passage from William Dalrymple’s Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan (Bloomsbury, 2013) –

"He had his face eaten away by what the Afghan sources call ‘a gangrenous ulcer’, possibly leprosy or some form of cancer. At the height of his power, when after eight successive raids on the plains of north India he finally crushed the massed cavalry of the Marathas at the Battle of Panipat in 1761, Ahmad Shah’s disease had already consumed his nose, and a diamond-studded substitute was attached in its place".

A villain with a melting face and a nose made of diamonds! Imagine that! Sanjay Dutt doesn’t even come close.

SHAH JAHAN 3! ALAMGIR 2!

Early on in the film, characters can be seen referring to the Mughal emperors as Shah Jahan ‘teen’ or Alamgir ‘do’. In reality, this is how historians refer to them much, much later. At the time, they would have been called by their full or regnal names. Shah Jahan III was known as Muhi-ul-millat, for instance.

THE INCREDIBLE FIELD GLASSES

As the two armies stare each other down across the Yamuna river, both Sadashiv Rao and Ahmad Shah pull out field glasses with which they can clearly see each other’s faces across the river in high definition! The field glasses seem to offer more magnification than a modern 800mm lens. In case you didn’t know, 800mm lenses are absolutely enormous and even the most experienced photographer couldn’t use them without a monopod. Even if that degree of magnification was somehow obtained, the image would be far from clear. There would be massive chromatic aberrations from imperfections in 18th Century lens design.

A MAROONED RED FORT

The portrayal of the Red Fort in the film is far from accurate. In reality, the Red Fort in 1761 should have been chock full of Mughal palaces built by successive emperors. The fort is also shown as being located in the middle of nowhere, with empty fields on all sides. In reality, there would have been a massive settlement around the fort, especially in areas such as Chandni Chowk. And how did the Jama Masjid just disappear?

BREAKING DOWN RED FORT’S DOOR

In the film Red Fort’s door is completely destroyed by a single, well-placed mortar round. There are three problems here. First, it is remarkably difficult to hit a door with a mortar shell, since they travel in an arc, and not in a straight line. Second, a fort’s doors would have been strong enough to withstand a few cannon balls. They were built with very thick wood and reinforced with iron. Third, in front of the gate, there should have been a moat, which means a drawbridge would have been necessary. Therefore, in the event of an attack, the drawbridge would have been pulled up, giving the door a second layer of protection.

THE BATTLE OF KUNJPURA

While it is true that in the battle of Kunjpura, the Marathas defeated an Afghan garrison and took the fort, the fort was quite promptly taken back by the Afghans and when the two armies faced off in Panipat, the Marathas also had the Afghan garrison of Kunjpura behind them. By failing to show this, the film distorts history, presenting a one-sided fiction.

WHERE WAS MAHADJI SCINDIA?

Mahadji Scindia (or Shinde), had participated in the Battle of Panipat, and was one of the only one of the Maratha commanders to survive. His part in the battle is not shown at all. He only makes a brief appearance at the end.

THE ARTILLERY IS ALL WRONG


In the battle of Panipat, the Marathas are shown using the same, enormous siege cannons they have been using right through the movie. This is a huge gaffe. These comically huge cannons, while certainly useful against fortifications, would have been extremely difficult to transport, all the way from Pune to Delhi, as the early Mughals who used them knew well. The Gardis who commanded the Maratha artillery were French trained. The very name Gardi comes from the French gardé. The Gardis used the latest French-style, light cannons. In fact, that is one of the reasons why they lost. Using elephants to push around enormous siege cannons simply takes the whole film down to the level of a Bahubali. 

THE GRUSOME OUTCOME OF THE BATTLE

Following the end of the battle Afghan soldiers ran riot in the streets of Panipat, slaughtering some 40,000 soldiers and civilians. Maratha soldiers who had been taken captive were butchered in cold blood. None of this finds its way into the film. Gowariker therefore, is guilty of presenting a highly sanitized version of the truth. As for the fort of Panipat itself, it looks remarkably European with its arrow loops and arched windows.

THE UNREALISTIC TIME-COMPRESSION

The one thing the film needed was a lot of montage shots, since it attempts to cover the events of a year or more, into a two-and-a-half hour film. What we get in its place is a noir-like narration and slides with dates. In the film, for instance, it looks like the Afghans and the Marathas face off only days after the battle of Kunjpura, when actually it was after almost a year. The same applies to the Maratha army’s starvation – it should have happened slowly, over months.

As for the other aspects of the film, the less said the better. Arjun Kapoor looks completely out of his depth trying to portray Sadashiv Rao, while other actors fare no better. As for the VFX used in the film, nothing has improved since the days of Jodhaa Akbar. At least that film was presented as a fairy tale, and was therefore somewhat enjoyable. Films like Panipat: The Great Betrayal should not be called “a fictionalised version of history”, but rather as alternative history. I know there will be those who will ask why I am looking for historical accuracy when it is only a movie. The trouble is, in India, people learn history from the movies, especially in this post truth world we are living 

- by Deepanjan Ghosh

4 comments:

Brian Paul Bach said...

Deep, a thorough, impeccable deconstruction of a film that aspires to be a blockbuster first, with historical authenticity way down the list. While I was reading your intriguing rundown of the film’s dubious elements, I was wondering about your approach, but in your last few sentences, you addressed my concern, e.g. audiences learn history from films.

This is of course inarguably true, and I can offer no insight to that topic which you don’t already know. The thing is, in the commercial film biz, there is no obligation to fulfill any expectations of authenticity on any level, though it is a strong selling point for serious filmmakers. Certainly, if the budget is there, and the right people want as much authenticity as possible, then they might come up with something truly admirable. The brilliant director Erich von Stroheim was famous for taking authenticity to extremes. In one picture, he insisted on having an elite corps of Austrian soldiers to be wearing ‘authentic’ underwear, as he himself had served in such a regiment (many other examples).

As I see it, audiences the world over are now so dependent on realism in their entertainment, the expectations can far exceed what is likely to make it to the screen. As we know, making movies is so complex, and such a crap shoot, it’s just a miracle when everything works in harmony.

Audiences all over the world used to be much more aware (and accepting) of film as drama, theatre, and art, (the latter subconsciously as a rule), while documentaries covered the ‘real’ stuff. The ‘it’s only a movie’ cliche is certainly applicable sometimes, but I alter it to read: ‘It’s a movie, not a documentary’. Authenticity and historical accuracy are always considered as assets, but to be blunt, if the director wants flowers for a scene that have to be flown in from Singapore, the producer will always say, ‘Forget it. Use the plastic ones. We’ll spray paint ‘em, and the audience’ll never know.’ And he’ll be right. Most will never know or care. Except we types, Deep! The director will be pissed, but the producer just saved a lakh. Sorry for the oversimplification, but often it’s just that basic.

I think the fact that audiences learn history from films is a larger issue. Ever since Leni Riefenstahl’s ‘Triumph of the Will’ film has been hijacked for propaganda, but I don’t think these ‘quasi-historicals’ are quite in that bracket, but the subliminal hints are there, I’m sure.

In closing, a suggestion, which I make without jest. You might explore becoming a consultant for historically-based films. Big time filmmakers often avoid academics for input, as they don’t or can’t adhere to strict authenticity, as any self-respecting blockbuster has to be sexed-up to keep audiences amazed and engaged. If you can make the aspects you know to be authentic sound good to them, I bet they’d be thrilled.

Unknown said...

The historian Akshaykumar Maitreya had exactly the same objections as yours to Nabinchandra Sen's wildly popular narrative poem, Palashir Yuddha (1875)! He said, in his book Sirajuddaula, that he asked the poet why he had distorted history in his depiction of events, to which, to his intense irritation, Sen had replied that he was writing poetry, not history. I've discussed all of this in my chapter on Nabinchandra Sen in The Literary Thing, if you want more details...

kapilg said...

Well written as usual and very relevant in today's socio political climate. Please do one on Tanaji the Unsung Warrior as well.

Suren Bharadwaj said...

Well-said. I too was especially irritated with the way Mahadji Shinde was totally left out. Also, Sadhashiv was not the friendly and diplomatic person he is shown to be in the movie. His arrogance was one of the reasons the Marathas did not have enough resources or men to win the battle. He did not forge alliances with several of the important kings. He even tried to have Suraj Mal assassinated, if I remember right. And the number of non-civilians (around a lakh) was a big drawback as they literally ate out precious resources.

Abdali's face really would have been scary with the diamond nose and parts of the face damaged. If at all they wanted to show him as a scary villain this would have been a really good way to do it. I remember reading that parts of his face were falling off by the time he died and there were maggots in his nose and mouth.