Chhaava – My Flash Review!

Against the usual norm of a hero introduction scene, Chhaava begins with a scene that introduces the villain. The villain here is Aurangzeb, often referred to in this film simply as Aurang, the last of the famous Mughal kings who ruled India. When the film’s promos started appearing, I thought it was another film based on the life of the most popular Maratha King, Shivaji. Later, I realised that the film is about his son, Sambhaji. Thus, the film is titled Chhaava, which refers to a lion’s cub in Marathi. After the villain’s introduction scene, when the time comes for the hero’s introduction, it ends with a dialogue indicating that the lion (Shivaji) may be no more, but the Chhaava (cub) is alive and roaming in the jungle. In one scene, the context for the whole film is set.

Except for a brief reference to Shivaji’s son as Sambhaji, much of the Maratha history in textbooks in the South, where I grew up, focused on Shivaji, the valiant Hindu Maratha warrior who fought with all his might to prevent the expansion of the Mughal Sultanate into the Western regions of India. This film, reportedly based on a Marathi book of the same name, attempts to bring Shivaji’s son Sambhaji into the collective consciousness of Indians by showcasing his struggles despite limited resources to realise his father’s dream of Swarajya. I must say that, to a large extent, the film manages to achieve this larger objective. Towards the end, when Sambhaji is captured by Aurangzeb and tortured intensely to compel him to join hands with the Mughals, the film compensates for what history books have often missed, which is to give Sambhaji a place of pride in pre-independent India’s history.

This is a film that deserves to be watched on a larger screen for the visual impact it creates with its war sequences, production values, and expansive camera work. Making a period film like this is quite challenging, but largely inspired by the Bahubali series, Director Laxman Utekar manages to pull it off with a combination of real action sequences and VFX. The staging of some of the war sequences, particularly in the beginning, appears amateurish but improves as the film progresses.

Vicky Kaushal as Sambhaji looks the part and makes me wonder if he is the same actor who made his debut in Masaan as a lanky youngster with boy-next-door looks in a sombre role. Kaushal embodies the role of the Maratha warrior physically and emotionally, and this must rank among his best performances. At times, he tries too hard and goes overboard with howling and growling, for which I would blame the director rather than him.

In terms of tonality, the film is pitched several notches above what is required. Watching on a personal OTT screen deprives us of a great visual experience but spares our eardrums from any damage. I didn’t realise until recently that A.R. Rahman scored the music for this film. The background score is subtle and fantastic in parts, but loud and over the top in others. Rahman usually doesn’t get inspired by others, which is commendable, but draws inspiration from his past work. Here, one could notice score patterns from Lagaan and Ponniyin Selvan being rehashed quite liberally.

Cinematography by Saurabh Goswami is top-class. The war sequences are too lengthy and could have been shortened for better impact; instead, they induce a lag in the film, though the visuals are commendable. Among the cast, the surprise package is Akshay Khanna, who plays Aurangzeb. In his elderly avatar, Khanna looks mean and lean for the character and effectively depicts the villainy of Aurangzeb. The torture scenes are full of gore and blood, as are many of the fight sequences.

Chhaava is now streaming on Netflix and is worth a one-time watch, despite the heavy dose of noise, violence, and gore.