Guru represents the return to form of Mani Ratnam after recent critical failures in hindi such as Yuva and Dil Se. Mani succeeds in blending style and substance, a balance he has not always got right in the post-Roja phase of his career. The strength of the movie lies in the script which manages to pack about 40 years in the life of Guru in a little under 3 hours. Mani's visual style is a big plus as the script breezes through the stages in Gurukanth Desai's growth from a small-time trader to a business tycoon. Although the technique used for these portions is conventional, the fast-paced narrative is a relief since no one wants to sit through how a business tripled its turnover or quadrupled its EPS. Another plus is how the complex (or dull depending on one's view) business/policy jargon is simplified - examples include the scene where Guru announces that Shakti Corporation plans to do a public issue and the scene where Madhavan demonstrates how Guru flouted export-import policies to circumvent limits on import of capital equipment.
Although he doesn't actually portray how Shakti Corporation goes from strength to strength, early in the film itself Mani takes care to show us glimpses into Guru's thinking, which is characterised by ruthlessness, opportunism and hunger for success. Guru's proclivity to profit from any situation is shown by his offer to marry Sujata, (who had eloped earlier and returned home spurned by her lover), wherein he "earns" a dowry (which becomes his capital for business) as well as Sujata's gratitude. Similarly, his never-say-die attitude is exemplified when he successfully breaks open Mumbai's textile exchange which operated as a cartel of a few traders, controlled by textile barons. His ability to cultivate powerful friendships and put them to good use is highlighted by his using the newspaper baron ManikDas's papers to smash open this aforementioned cartel. To top it all, his intelligence is underlined when he gets the government to withdraw a ban on textile trading; later in the movie there is an encore when Guru persuades a supposedly honest minister to give approval for a petrochem plant despite there being "loopholes" in the project. That Guru does not have scruples is also evident when he bypasses his brother-in-law (an equal partner in the business) in taking important decisions, because he (Guru) deduces that his BIL does not have the appetite for risk-taking. Guru's rise owes a lot to lucky breaks and happenstance. But he is shrewd enough to capitalise on these openings and he never loses sight of his goal, which is simply to keep growing.
The other strength of the movie is (in Ash's words) "finely etched characters". Guru's character is well fleshed out, as expected. But other characters also have their moments. Unlike Yuva for example, no character is left hanging. Sujata, who is a reluctant bride to start off, slowly warms to Guru and by the end of the movie is his voice, his 50-50 partner in every sense of the word. The character matures in front of our eyes; although hurt by the knowledge that Guru probably married her only for money, she gets over it proving Somerset Maugham's(?) adage that familiarity breeds something approximating love in a woman. By far the most interesting character in the movie is the newspaper baron, Manikdas Gupta, who is a Gandhian, a stickler to principles and is as obstinate as they come. Manikdas's relationship with Guru is akin to that of a father-son but he never lets the emotion cloud his displeasure with Guru's tactics. Once Manikdas feels that Guru has used him/his newspaper he decides to go after Guru. This is about the only turning point in the movie. The viewer senses that Guru has gone one step too far in trying to peddle his influence. From that point onwards the relationship between Guru and Manikdas becomes strained; although both men retain the warmth for each other, they cannot but be opposite poles.
The scene where Manikdas personally warns Guru about the start of hostilities crackles like a livewire. Mani has a way of fashioning scenes depicting confrontation between (male) lead characters- a skill he probably honed to perfection with Agni Natchatram, although his earlier Pagal Nilavu also had its share of lead characters crossing paths. The situations in Guru are complicated further when Shyam, the reporter employed by Manik to go after Guru, marries Manik's grand-daughter Meenu, a personal favourite of Guru. Meenu's presence in the movie and her romantic interlude with Shyam may be seen as an unwanted distraction by some, but it serves two purposes. One is to add an element of complexity to Guru's feelings towards Shyam - not only can Guru not bring himself to hate Manik, he is duty-bound to feel ambivalent towards Shyam as well. More importantly, Meenu's character helps us get an insight into Guru's ability to love unconditionally - he is not profit-driven always! In that sense, the Guru-Meenu interaction is similar to showing the hero petting a dog, to accentuate the white portions amidst Guru's grey shades. Come to think of it, there is no surprise that Mani has woven an uncomfortable relationship between Guru, Meenu and Shyam. Most of his (earlier) movies explored this face-off between characters who have something in common, who are related. Velu Nayakar and his daughter, Gautam and Ashok, Surya and Arjun – all these pairs were related, had more things in common than they realised but were riven apart by fate, situations and convictions. Agni Natchathiram was probably the best of the lot in exploring this angle as the step-sibling rivalry held enormous promise to start off with. The difference in Guru is that Guru’s character towers above everyone else bar Manikdas’ that the notion of rivalry between Guru and Shyam never gets off the ground.
Surprisingly for a Mani Ratnam movie in Hindi, the dialogues (Vijay Krishna Acharya) add to the script. Mani’s earlier Hindi movies made one wonder how a man who rewrote the rules of Tamil movie writing can struggle to capture the Hindi ethos. The dialogues in Guru strike the right balance between simplicity and depth, a balance that Mani perfected quite early in his career with Mouna Raagam. The scene where Guru characterises his approach to influence-peddling with a simple analogy stands out. The dialogues also hold up in the climax, a prerequisite for a drama which climaxes in the court room.
Ah, the climax itself. The climax of Guru has probably provoked more debate than the movie itself. Mani has gone trough the entire gamut when it comes to climax. He has copped out without making a judgement (Nayakan), made it uplifting (Roja, Yuva), given the audience what they wanted (Bombay), made it too verbose (Kannathil Muhtamittal) or just made a hash of the whole thing (Dil Se). Thankfully in Guru he doesn’t skirt the issue of examining the hero’s methods. In a courtroom (a tribunal enquiring into Guru’s business practices) that is reminiscent of the British courts (Roshan Seth in a nice cameo as judge), Guru defends his methods by invoking a parallel with MK Gandhi’s civil disobedience movement no less. What stands out at first is the audacity of it all – of Guru, of Mani Ratnam himself in using the example of a man who never believed in the “ends justify means” maxim that is so beloved of Guru himself. I am not going into the morality of it. But what is striking is that with this climax, Mani strikes a blow for capitalism and free markets. After all, in Guru’s eyes, the socialist license-permit raj was no less oppressive than the British rule. So he was right in trying to circumvent these restrictions that tried to curtail personal and economic freedom. As one columnist had pointed out capitalism usually doesn’t make for good cinema. Ideologue directors are usually left leaning; even apolitical directors feel more comfortable depicting socialist or communist themes. While the early fifties, sixties movies took off from the independence struggle and the issues of those days such as land reforms, the seventies and eighties anti-establishment heroes were instinctively part of the proletariat. Guru is unique in that sense he is unabashedly materialist, wants to get rich quick and is prepared to work for that. Mani Ratnam has always had an urban upper-middle class sensibility. And he went to a B-School, remember?. So it follows he didn't have the ideological baggage that is the bane of Indian intelligentsia. If Guru is remembered for nothing else, at the least Mani has broken new ground in Indian cinema with the subject and the climax. And it comes as no surprise that this movie has come out in 2007 when India is the flavour of the month. The climax is sure to make many feel ambivalent towards the movie and its message. A fellow blogger has suggested that the climax is inspired by a similar scene from Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged". Having steadfastly stayed away from Rand, I am not qualified to comment. But I fully expect Mani to have read it, so who knows?
Guru is not flawless. There were a number of glaring negatives in the form. The music, or rather the use of music is a let-down. At least two songs hamper the narrative and the movie comes to a dead halt during these songs. Mani does away with the Mallika item number in the title song (small mercies). And while the rain song that introduces Sujata's character is formulaic (think Chinna Chinna Aasai in Roja) it is pardonable. Ae Hairathe is chopped up and passes off in the background. The first of the offending songs "Tere Bina" comes when Guru-Sujata split up briefly. Instead of just a musical interlude covering happier moments from the flashback, Mani makes the actors mouth the lyrics and tries our patience. The song itself and the location are superb but the placement of the song is wrong. The second interlude is more offensive and shocking in its grossness. I am referring to the "Ek Lo, ek muft" song. It is an irredeemable disaster and nearly derails the momentum built up by the narrative. One never thought Mani will stoop to such levels. The picturisation and the concept are out of keeping with how Guru's character develops in the movie. Some have speculated that Mani has lost interest in filming songs. Or it could be he is finding it difficult to live up to his own lofty standards in filming a music video. The biggest strength of the movie is also its weakness. We all know it is a thinly veiled biography and many of us would have revelled in identifying characters, parallels with real life. But after sometime this ‘spot the trivia contest’ can’t sustain our enthusiasm. (One useless piece of trivia - Guru's daughters - not sons - in the movie are named Disha and Drishti after Amar Singh's daughters!) Like Omkara, Guru starts dragging in the second half because we know most of the developments and can approximately guess the climax. That is a problem Mani also faced with Iruvar. As the story develops, as the characters grow, the dramatic impact starts waning.
Technically the movie is awe inspiring as befits a period film. Rajiv Menon’s camera work and Samir Chanda’s production design come to the fore. The 50s Bombay has been stunningly recreated including trams in junctions (in Binny Mills, Chennai?) and Marine Drive (Pondicherry). Similarly, the New Indian Express press in Chennai suits the setting for ‘Swatantra’ newspaper. The lighting also stands out and keeps pace with the transitions in Guru’s life. It is diffused early on in Istanbul and gradually gains intensity. One particular scene strikes you – the Parsi wedding (family wedding of Guru’s rival, Arzaan Contractor) that helps to move the story forward some 5 years. The lighting (starting with the flashbulbs) is reminiscent of the wedding event in Nayakan when Velu first meets with other dons – Lala, Reddy et al. Lot of work has gone into editing as one gathers that Mani had shot lots more footage – Mallika apparently had some dialogues, Shyam and Manikdas had a scene clashing over the former’s love for Meenu etc – and the movie has been skilfully cut. Overall, the authentic look lifts Guru to the level of Hollywood period films – LA Confidential for example. Guru also reminds me of another iconic Hollywood film, 'Citizen Kane'. But I have to see the movies again to develop this idea.
Among actors, Abhishek has put in lot of hard work for an author backed role. He is convincing in the climax and ages perceptibly, gracefully through the movie. Rightly he has got lot of plaudits for this role. But one feels the praise is overdone. Kamal’s performance in Nayakan sets the standard for portraying stages of life in Indian cinema. Against that yardstick, Abhishek is not fully convincing. He tries a bit too hard and it shows. The showstopper according to me is Mithunda, who shows that a plethora of B grade movies later, he still has the goods. He is commanding and carries off his role with ease. Seeing him for the first time in many years, one is surprised at how majestically he has aged and how he can hold his own with today’s stars. Aptly his name gets top billing in the credits. Aishwarya gives a convincing performance for the first time in years. It is a wonder that almost all her notable performances have come with Tamil directors (Mani and Rajiv Menon). The Abhiwarya pairing clicks. After all Mani is a master at depicting matrimonial romance. Madhavan is surprisingly slim and effective. He is suave and unruffled when he goes after Guru. Vidya Balan is a breath of fresh air in Hindi cinema and she does her reputation no harm in a short role. She and Madhavan get to share a really romantic, sensual kiss. Not the Emran Hashmi lip-grab, this one.
Ultimately, as the story of a man who refused to be tied down by the license-permit raj, guru has a strong resonance in today's India, which has benefited from the unshackling of its entrepreneurial spirit. Manmohan Singh, India's Prime Minister, famously quoted Victor Hugo when he launched economic liberalisation back in 1991, "No power on earth can stop an idea whose time has come". Guru is the story of a man who had the idea earlier than most and went to any lengths to achieve his goal. The movie deserves to be seen for the bold message, technical finesse and some fine performances.
