120 Bahadur Review: Farhan Akhtar's Film Is Consistently Watchable

Shorn of jingoism, free of gratuitous frills and delivered with fitting deference to the memory of the Indian soldiers (many of them unsung) who laid down their young lives in the battle of Rezang La in 1962, 120 Bahadur is a Bollywood war movie of a refreshingly different timbre.

Directed by Razneesh "Razy" Ghai and written by Rajiv G. Menon with dialogues by Sunit Arora, 120 Bahadur strikes a balance between emotion and action in its fictionalisation of a military face-off that took a heavy toll of lives but helped India stop China from marching into Ladakh.

The loud war cry ("Dada Kishan ki jai") of the Ahir boys of the 13th Kumaon Regiment's Charlie Company, whose last glorious stand at the Rezang La Pass has been part of Indian Army folklore for over six decades, frequently pierces the rarefied air of the battleground at an altitude of 18,000 feet, but the movie's even tone is never irretrievably compromised. It stays true to its purpose all the way through.

The men we see on the screen are ordinary infantrymen. Their incredible heroism stems from their valour. But their pugnacious words and acts, aimed against a marauding army from across the border, do not shellack the film's primary intent.

120 Bahadur is steadfast in paying homage to a group of incredible soldiers from the plains who refused to go down without a fight in alien, inhospitable high-altitude conditions against an army with far greater firepower.

The story of these valiant men who conquered the lack of resources - they had little artillery fire cover and their clothing was hardly appropriate for the oppressively cold terrain - is told in a manner that is both rousing and engaging.

That is not to say that 120 Bahadur is flaw-free, but the chinks in its solid armour are never overly glaring nor are they unmanageable to the point of adversely affecting the impact of the rousing tale of courage and patriotism. They are easy to gloss over even when parts of the film may come across as a touch cavalier with the truth.

The valour of the infantrymen who do not abandon their mission even when the odds are loaded heavily against them and the weather turns extremely hostile is allowed to be overshadowed somewhat by the constant harping on their identity and geographical origins.

That is a narrative device that Chetan Anand's Haqeeqat (1964), which brought to the big screen a fictional account of the same battle, did not have to take recourse to on its way to becoming a much-loved war movie. But that was a totally different era of moviemaking and politics.

Today, identity is invariably placed front and centre in movies about military heroes, commandos and secret agents. The men referred to in 120 Bahadur, led by a brave Rajput officer who leaves his mother, wife and young son behind a few days ahead of Diwali and responds to the call of duty, constantly remind themselves (and the audience) of who a majority of them are - Ahirs from Rewari district.

The constant proclamations of the qualities that define the clan of Lord Krishna worshippers are all fine until they become overly repetitive and begin to take precedence over the other admirable aspects of their personalities.

There is obviously a great deal to admire in these men who willingly embraced death in order to stop the Chinese in their tracks. 120 Bahadur loses no opportunity to bring to the fore the personal dynamics that are at work, especially pertaining to the friendships that take roots among the men and the relationships that evolve between the commanding officer and the group's radio operator.

It is the radio operator - he is one of the handful of men who survive the battle - who, after he recovers in a military hospital, recounts what transpired at Rezang La. The story that he pieces together flows without a hitch although parts of the narration are centred on encounters and exchanges that he might not have been a part of.

Needless to say, the Chinese aggressors are a brutal lot. In one sequence, Major Bhati and his men walk into a village on the border where every resident has been mowed down. Retaliatory action follows and a few enemy soldiers are slain. No Chinese soldier or general emerges from the melee as a character of any substance. They hover between the boorish and buffoonish.

Since the primary focus of the story is on Major Shaitan Singh Bhati, his wife (Raashi Khanna) is accorded more screen time than any other woman in the film. The parents, partners and relatives of a handful of the other men are shown only in passing in the course of a song that one of the soldiers - a Mohammad Rafi fan - sings and the others join in, paving the way for flashes of familial scenes.

120 Bahadur, through the words of the commanding officer, throws light on the soldiers' relationship with the land. Their farming families have traditionally fought the elements to augment and protect their produce. They are now engaged in a war, Major Bhati, tells them, for their motherland.

The barren battlefield where not a blade of grass grows is nothing like their cultivable land back in their villages but a parallel is drawn between zameen and sarzameen. The fight that they have on their hands here is much fiercer - it is as much against their own doubts and fears as against a powerful force that is in no mood to relent.

Farhan Akhtar, one of the producers of the film along with his Excel Entertainment partner Ritesh Sidhwani and Happy Trigger Studios' Amit Chandrra, leads the charge with controlled gusto. In his first screen role in four years, Akhtar is acutely mindful of the demands of the character and fleshes out the Param Vir Chakra-recipient without overstretching himself.

The actors around him, many of them unknown faces but every one of them perfect embodiments of the tough, unyielding men that they play, rise to the occasion. Each one of them treats his role with the respect it deserves. The physicality and energy that they endow the characters with is sustained almost all through the film, thanks to the focused writing.

120 Bahadur is consistently watchable because it is aware of where it is going and is able to get there without letting the pitfalls of the genre deflect it from its path.