Being the third and the last film, in a series of adaptations of the famous plays of Shakespeare, Vishal Bhardwaj has become quite good in transforming the iconic English verses and soliloquies of the master dramatist to their poetic equivalents in Indian languages and setting the frequently adapted characters in a distinctive Indian milieu, making them his own in the process. All of the adaptations have a common theme running through them-tragedy. As seen in his previous body of work, Bhardwaj’s penchant for dark humour is quite evident in this film as well. It’s most obvious when Hamlet’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern make an appearance as two video parlour owners, who fool around mimicking Salman Khan and hum and groove to songs from his movies, when not recommending his videos to their customers. In any other mainstream Hindi film,these two ‘Salmans’ (their names in the film) would have been the obligatory comic relief, divorced from the mood of the rest of the film. But here, when these ‘adorable’ and seemingly harmless buffoons are shown as the uncle’s henchmen tasked with killing Hamlet, it suddenly throws them into dangerous light, much like the offhand executions of Kahaani’s hit-man Bob Biswas.
What Haider succeeds in (or does not, according to others) is changing the political landscape of Denmark into insurgency stricken Kashmir.Tabu’s Ghazala emerges as a symbol for the beautiful region dressed in constant political turmoil and violence. She’s a much stronger Gertrude here, with more agency of her own, but is ultimately caught between the loyalties to her lover-turned husband and her own son, the end witnessing her sacrificing herself in a bid to end the mindless bloodshed and reconcile the warring uncle-nephew duo. The end is major departure from the original play- and one does not have to think too hard to see why- where Haider chooses to abandon his plans of revenge, that has driven him till now, almost to the point of manic resolve. The film presents an unpopular and hitherto unseen perspective through its protagonist. It even goes out of its way to show alleged brutalities committed by the Indian armed forces when the narrative does not really need them, but the ultimate stand of the filmmakers is that of peace, when no such stand was necessary to make the film a piece of art. It has all the ingredients for driving home the point of futility of violence -right from an innocent Arshia, Haider’s romantic interest, getting killed in the carnage, grave diggers picking up guns in an age when it’s time for them to perhaps renounce everything, Haider contemplating how all are equal in death to the repeated use of ‘vengeance only leads to more vengeance’ that underlines the film.
The first twenty minutes of the film has a very beautifully crafted scene in it-with Khurram trying to woo and enliven the solemn Ghazala’s mood by beating the Tumbaknari, a traditional Kashmiri drum behind a big white veil, as Haider looks on with dismay-the first indication of a relationship that bloomed behind closed doors and is now slowly coming out in the open. While opinion may be divided in the authenticity of the film’s portrayal of the separatist conflict in Kashmir, I hope not many will disagree on its cinematic strengths.
P.S: The screenplay is based on Basharat Peer’s book ‘Curfewed Night’, that recounts the author’s own experiences in Kashmir, who also co-wrote the film along with Bhardwaj. And it retains Sigmund Freud's psychoanalysis of Hamlet's equivocalness as a character, which stems from his Oedipus complex towards his mother.
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