Devdas (2002)
QFS No. 171 - The invitation for March 26, 2025
For those of you who have been with us for a few years now, our Intro to Indian Cinema 101 is our most popular mini course, in that it is the only QFS mini course really. The films we’ve seen so far from the Indian Subcontinent cover the various distinct areas and eras of the world’s largest and multi-faceted filmmaking region. As a recap, this is what we’ve watched and discussed, in chronological release order:
● Apur Sansar (1959, QFS No. 16), directed by Satyajit Ray, as part of the Apu Trilogy and the origin point of Indian Art Films (aka Parallel Cinema), what we would call in the US as an independent film. Also launches indigenous Indian cinema into the consciousness of the global filmmaking community.
● Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959) directed by Guru Dutt, representative of the Golden Age of Bollywood directed by an auteur, a classic musical with melodrama at its heart but an adherence to high aesthetics and artistic cinematic quality.
● Sholay (1975, QFS No. 62) directed by Ramesh Sippy, Indian “Western” with megastar Amitabh Bachchan. With India’s first (sorta) 65mm film, the country is starting to be influenced more by international filmmaking, including Hong Kong action films and American Westerns, as it grows into its young nation 30 years after independence.
● Dil Se.. (1998, QFS No. 32) directed by Mani Ratnam, represents an example of the influence of MTV on Indian cinema, music videos and the opening of Indian media markets to the West. (Also stars global megastar Shah Rukh Khan, who is the star of this week’s selection Devdas.)
● 3 Idiots (2006, QFS No. 118) directed by Rajkumar Hirani, a comedy that’s a portrait of a more modern Bollywood film that’s more (sorta) self-aware than its predecessors and adapted from a successful Indian novel.
● RRR (2022, QFS No. 86) directed by S.S. Rajamouli, an example of “Tollywood,” or films from the Telegu language film industry – technically not a Bollywood film, which are in Hindi. An example of a rare global megahit from a regional film industry. Also an example of India’s embrace of digital filmmaking technology on a massive scale.
● Additional subject material: international films by non-Indian directors that take place in India: Gandhi (1982, QFS No. 100) directed by Richard Attenborough and The Darjeeling Limited (2009, QFS No. 59) directed by Wes Anderson.
That’s actually quite a lot of films about or from India over five years when it’s laid out like that!
So where does this week’s selection Devdas fit in? Devdas is probably the apex Bollywood film, the type of film that screams “Bollywood!” especially if you’re not from India and you think “what makes up a Bollywood film.” The most Bollywood of Bollywood films. You get what I’m driving at – melodrama, colors, costumes, passionate forbidden love, beautiful people, romance, the greatest choreography, set design and cinematography to enhance it. Devdas feels like it crosses eras, influenced by the gaudy past of Indian Hindi films but unleashed into the modern world. It features screen darling Madhuri Dixit of the 1980s and 1990s, giving way to screen darling Aishwarya Rai*, star of the 2000s. And of course, SRK, Shah Rukh Khan in the center at the ascent of his stratospheric career.
Devdas, also is the most adapted story for the screen of all time – the 1917 novel has been adapted 20 times in multiple languages since the 1928 silent film version! This is as classic an Indian tale on the screen as can be told. Join the discussion below!
*Roger Ebert once said (paraphrasing here) Aishwarya Rai is the second most beautiful woman in the world. When asked who was the first, he said, Aishwarya Rai is also the first. You decide!
Reactions and Analyses:
There is no medium, there is only maximum.
Modern Hindi films (aka Bollywood films) are not known to be subtle. They are, by and large, maximalist, gaudy, extreme in their emotions and light on nuance or finesse. And the most extreme of those extremes are the films of Sanjay Leela Bhansali, and in particular the opulent Devdas (2002) – perhaps the most maximalist of modern Bollywood films.
Devdas is the peak, the most Bollywood of Bollywood films. One line of dialogue in particular stands out as an unintentional descriptor of Bollywood films. The titular character Devdas (Shah Rukh Khan) wallows in self-pity and self-destruction for a better part of the last third of the film. His family friend Dharamdas (Tiku Talsania) warns him that he’s drinking to excess. To which Devdas replies rhetorically, “Who the hell drinks to tolerate life?!” There’s only abstinence and inebriation for Devdas, only extremes, nothing in between.
Similarly, who makes a modern Bollywood film to explore subtlety? (The answer to the drinking question also should be the answer to the Bollywood one – lots of people!) Swinging along from one extreme to the next throughout Devdas is an enjoyable endeavor to be sure, highs and lows abound. Bhansali takes the well-known Indian story and gives it the appropriate operatic treatment it deserves.
Star-crossed lovers, Indian style – that’s Devdas. Opposite Devdas is Paro (Aishwarya Rai), photographed in the most glamorous way imaginable, usually bathed in a soft light and equally soft portrait lenses. The imagery evokes the classic cinema of American films of the 1930s, when closeups were glorious and beautiful and stood out from the rest of the film. Truly, it takes very little to make Rai look beautiful, but Bhansal and cinematographer Binod Pradhan elevate every moment she is on screen. Extreme beauty aligns with the extremes throughout the film.
Devdas executes the operatic scope befit a melodrama – massive (truly massive) beautiful stained-glass sets, shimmering (and heavy) costumes in the traditional Indian classical style with modern twists, exquisitely choreographed dancing sequences – all enhanced by synchronistic cinematography to capture it all. It isn’t simply the use of color and costume and camera work, but the synthesis of all together in harmony and in concert with each other. The dancers in twirling lehengas are nice, but the overhead shot to show the symmetrical pattern of the dancers and the fabric spinning in unison with the music is what makes Devdas a stunning work of film craft.
One of the hallmarks of Bollywood cinema is dramatic character introduction. The filmmakers know that their audiences come for the melodrama, the spectacle, but most of all the larger-than-life stars who loom as large as gods and goddesses on and off the screen. Take the first time we meet Paro – for a long time her face is hidden. She dances with the other women in anticipation of the imminent return of her childhood crush, her beloved Devdas. We learn about the candle that has been literally (not figuratively) burning since he left, a flame that cannot be extinguished. But her face, throughout this sequence, remains cleverly hidden by camera work, blocking and choreography. Then she dances onto the balcony where a storm continues to rage.
A lighting strikes, a flash fills the sky and the shot cuts to Paro’s face, literally glowing in the flashing light, a vision of beauty and yearning. It’s fantastic. The filmmaker knows what’s important – the power of the close up of his stars. Throughout, Paro’s yearning close ups, as well as Devdas’ and later Chandramukhi’s (Madhuri Dixit) close ups, tell the story of love, anguish, sorrow, hope, desire. Behind Chandramukhi, a courtesan, the gold mirrored tassels that hang in her brothel shimmer like stars behind her when she speaks in her domain. It’s overdone and extreme but that’s the point.
What point is there in filming to tolerance, after all?
There is no let up in the melodrama and the full-throated extremes of characterization. You suspect Kalibabu (Milind Gunaji) must be one of the “bad guys” immediately. Why? Well who else would have a mustache like that? Only someone with the inclination to commit evil, according to Bollywood logic.
There are other conventions of Bollywood that Devdas adheres to. Up until recently, Indian films refrained from overt acts of love on screen - no kissing, certainly no nudity, PG-13 at most by American standards. This puts Indian films squarely in line with American filmmaking of the 1950s and earlier, with suggestion being more powerful than actual directness. And Devdas has suggestive scenes to the extreme. Take the scene with Paro and Devdas by the riverside, intercut with her mother Sumitra (Kirron Kher) dancing for Devdas’ mother Kaushalya (Smita Jaykar) at a party. The scenes by the river are incredibly seductive, bathed in moonlight, as Devdas tries to remove a thorn from Paro’s foot, the music of “Morey Piya” swelling as the scene cuts between Devdas’ home and at the riverbank. It’s clear, at least to me, that this scene between the two lovers suggests they are making love (off-screen of course), the blue waterfall behind them, the setting awash with lusty romance.
And despite all the technical mastery for most of the film, there are a number of scenes that feel as plainly shot and amateurish as an Indian television soap opera. Probably because, at it’s core, Devdas is a soap opera, a melodrama. The evil sister-in-law Kumud (Ananya Khare), jealous of the lower class but beautiful Paro, tries to prevent her from marrying the higher class Devdas. She manipulates Devdas’ mother Kaushalya by whispering poisonous doubts into her ear. Paro’s mother Sumitra is humiliated by Devdas’ family and forbids Paro to marry him, setting of the cascade of tragic events that follow for the next three hours or so. These scenes, however useful they are for the plot, if cut together separate from the rest of Devdas, would appear as if they were from a different film. For someone who didn’t grow up with a steady diet of Bollywood films, these scenes felt excruciating. If the rest of the film was so innovative artistically elevated, why are these other scenes the opposite?
Regardless, the film captivates. Though it’s been told many times on screen, I didn’t know the story myself. After Devdas has nearly drunk himself to death and strives to go to Paro – now married to another wealthy man who doesn’t love her – Devdas collapses at her gate, about to breathe his last breath. Paro races through her palatial home, her white gown flowing down the massive staircase and sprinting through the halls. Her husband’s guards attempt to slow her down and begin to shut the gate. And at this point, I truly had no idea what would happen. I thought for sure Paro would reach Devdas, the two would finally be together, and her love would resuscitate him, save him, and they would live happily ever after.
The gate closes, red leaves from the tree above Devdas drift downwards, and they are separated forever by his death. It’s a riveting sequence, made the more stunning if you don’t know the outcome of this story and hadn’t grown up with it like everyone in India has. I found myself truly shocked and moved, in awe of the filmmaking but captivated by the frenetic what-will-happen narrative at the end.
There is no comparison in the West, really, to this type of uniquely Indian film. While Bollywood has been influenced by American and European filmmaking to some extent – look at Hollywood glamour of the 1930s including Busby Berkeley’s musical choreography and you’ll see commonalities – there are no purveyors of this level of melodrama and craftsmanship outside of the Subcontinent. Baz Luhrmann probably comes closest, especially Moulin Rouge (2001) and Elvis (2022). I’d say you could even throw in John Chu, but even his Wicked (2024) is more classic American musical than Indian Hindi film melodrama.
Perhaps we in the West need this. Perhaps we need more of the maximalist movies, bathed in colors and sound and music and tears and laughter and deep sadness and exquisite beauty. There’s a catharsis, or more accurately a chance to disappear into a world that completely envelopes you to the max. Why else make a film but to go to the extreme?