The first major release of 2006, Rakesh Omprakash Mehra’s Rang de Basanti is a call to the nation to wake up from apathy and participate in nation-making. From the very inception of Indian cinema patriotism has been a central theme -- a result of India’s unique struggle for freedom from British colonial rule and subsequent years of nation-building. From Sohrab Modi’s Sikandar (1941), the message of nationalism and social awareness has been delivered by Indian filmmakers of all genres through the six decades that followed. Rang de Basanti is a 21st century paean to the idealism and patriotic zeal that infused the nation in the 1930s and 40s.

Those that stop to think are disillusioned and frustrated with the rampant corruption, unequal distribution of wealth, population explosion, mob related crime, burgeoning communal tension, infrastructural deficiencies. Blame is directed at the system or the government or the political and religious leaders, the mafia, but no one is willing to step in and take responsibility. Rang De Basanti tells the youth to stop being onlookers and stand up for what they believe in. Mehra uses this platform as a devise that is psychologically and rhetorically effective to bear his message to the nation. 

The basic premise of the story is a young British film-maker Sue McKinley’s efforts to make a documentary film on the revolutionary heroes of the Indian independence movement. Sue has been inspired by the diary of her grandfather James McKinley, a British officer who witnessed this phase in India’s history. A friend, Sonia, who is a student in Delhi University, helps her put together a cast and crew. Initially disappointed with the quality of young people who audition for her – most of them cannot even pronounce Vande Mataram, Sue comes across a group of young men whose camaraderie and joie de vivre intrigue her. They don’t seem to have a care in the world other than drinking, fast driving and partying, but underneath their cheerful carelessness, Sue senses a spark of the anger and desperation that embodied the revolutionaries. She convinces them to act in her film. They are joined by a radical Hindu youth who wants to be part of the project, because of his belief in the country’s past and its glorious freedom struggle. He is a misfit, and his presence causes tension in the group, that is eventually diffused out of deference to Sue’s desperation to make this work. On the periphery is Ajay Rathod, Sonia’s fiancé, an IAF pilot who participates in the fun and frolic but differs from the others in that he believes in serving his country. 

Sue starts filming her documentary. In this film within a film the actors are: Daljeet aka DJ, who wants to remain a student forever as he is afraid of going into the real world and getting stuck in an anonymous groove; Karan, the son of an industrialist, who is uncomfortable with his father’s wealth and the expectations that entrap him; poet, philosopher and graffiti-artist Aslam, a middle-class Muslim from the by-lanes of Old Delhi; innocent and vulnerable Sukhi; Laxman Pandey, the only one who believes that politics can make the world a better place, but indoctrinated into communal distrust by fundamentalist propaganda; tomboyish and vivacious Sonia - the sole girl in the group. The characters: Chandrashekhar Azad (DJ), Bhagat Singh (Karan), Rajguru (Sukhi), Ashfaqullah Khan (Aslam), Ramprasad Bismil (Laxman) and Durga Vohra (Sonia). Sepia tinted narration of the uprising by Punjabi revolutionaries in 1920s India is juxtaposed against the colorful revelry of contemporary youth in urban India.

Initially, Sue’s actors cannot identify with the characters they play: they don’t believe in the freedom fighters or their ideologies. This is the MTV generation where consumerism and hedonism rule, values of sacrifice, honor, moral responsibility, are absurd concepts. Why would someone give up their life for their country -- especially a country so corrupt and polluted? As these young people re-acquaint themselves with Indian history, we slowly witness the gradual transition from irresponsible youths to rebels with a cause. From rolling their eyes and laughing uproariously at the quaint sounding dialogues they have to mouth, they begin to absorb these values into their own lives. 

They gradually begin to realize that their own lives are not that different. The same choices that faced the revolutionaries stare them in the face. Then the British Empire was the villain, now it is the present state of politics. Parallels are drawn between the characters in the past and present and as the story moves forward, the barrier of time begins to dissolve, the two narratives blend into one and the characters become one in spirit. The metamorphosis is complete when Ajay is killed in a MiG-21 mishap. Ajay dies a hero, having averted a greater tragedy by crashing into an empty field instead of trying to save his own life. However, instead of honoring his martyrdom, the government labels him as a careless novice in order to deflect media attention away from the details of the purchase of old Russian MiGs. The group is devastated with this death and the disrespect paid by the nation to Ajay’s sacrifice. They realize that it is time to get out of their inertia and act. Suddenly, fighting for one’s country and dying for it seems to make sense. What happens next is unrealistic but appropriately and tragically heroic. The melodrama of the finale is spurious. What the film tells you is that the spirit of rebellion transcends time and age. 

Mehra’s ensemble cast, with the incomparable Amir Khan leading a group of newcomers, is completely convincing as disillusioned young people who learn the importance of personal sacrifice. Amir is an actor who has always risen over his stardom and become one with the character. Playing a character over a decade younger than he is, he brings his innate intensity to DJ’s flippant attitude that is a cover for insecurity, alienation and lack of self-confidence. Amir’s has been an amazing career path, staying within the realms of commercial Hindi cinema, yet managing to deliver quality projects that receive critical acclaim and popular appeal. It is of enormous credit to him and to the director that he shares equal space and screen time with his younger colleagues, to the extent that at the finale, it is not DJ but Karan who takes centre-stage. It is Karan’s voice that the film ends with, urging the youth to get out of their inertia join politics, the civil services, armed forces, and clean the system from the inside out. Amir Khan’s superstar status does not take away the limelight from any of the other characters and performances, each stands out in his own way. 

National Award winner Atul Kulkarni, playing the angry young right-wing man Laxman Pandey, who realizes that the party he idolizes is corrupt and exploitative and has misled him, gives another powerfully emotive performance. The multi-talented Siddharth of Telugu films, who writes, acts, directs and speaks five languages, makes an impressive debut in Hindi film, bringing to life the brooding intensity of Karan. Another powerful performance is from Kunal Kapoor playing the artist/philosopher Aslam, who defies the trend of times for Muslims to be alienated from the mainstream and feel persecuted, valuing friendship more than anything else. Sharman Joshi, gives a decent performance as the happy go lucky Sukhi, who finds it difficult to agree with his friends resorting to violence in their quest for justice, but cannot be parted from them in life or death.

The cast also comprises the extremely likable Madhavan as Flt Lt. Ajay Rathod, around whose death the film revolves. Soha Ali Khan exudes more confidence than she has in her past roles in Hindi films. Alice Patten, who learnt to speak Hindi and spent five months in India for this film, does a good job playing the central character Sue. The young cast is supported by a handful of veterans, each of them leaving her or his mark in small cameos: Waheeda Rehman, Om Puri, Kiron and Anupam Kher, Mohan Agashe, Steven Mckintosh, K.K. Raina and Lekh Tandon.