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Movie Review - The Black Prince

Lost glory

Lost glory

A still from The Black Prince



Nonika Singh

A Hollywood film in Punjabi on a subject close to Punjab’s heart is indeed a matter of pride for Punjabis. There is no denying that. The Black Prince has its heart and intentions in the right place. 

But if Punjabi films are guilty of becoming a tad too melodramatic and over the top than this one made in three languages suffers from the reverse syndrome. So languorous is the tempo that despite unfurling a fascinating chapter of the Sikh history, it fails to keep you hooked and has your attention only in fits and starts.

The tragic life of the last Maharaja of Sikh empire, Maharaja Duleep Singh, son of Sher-e-Punjab Maharaja Ranjit Singh, has all the ingredients to fire creative imagination and one that certainly needs to be recalled, reiterated and retold. 

Alas, from the word go, the pall of gloom casts its shadow in such a morose fashion that there is little takeaway and even less insight into the Maharaja caught between two disparate worlds and religions. As the film quickly gallops and introduces us to the adult Duleep Singh (Satindar Sartaj), it continues to harp on just one thing —how he was separated from his mother at the age of five and raised by foster parents in England where he was converted to Christianity.

A peep into the childhood of the Black Prince, as he was fondly called by Queen Victoria, would have provided some understanding of his predicament and dilemma. Strangely, the narrative skips those formative years, in the process losing much ground. Duleep’s  meeting with his real mother, the  indomitable Rani Jinda, played by equally feisty Shabana Azmi, does bring some vigour but not enough to make it a riveting watch. 

Sartaj looks enigmatic but is unable to decode the enigma of the Maharaja whose complexities are best left to imagination or to books which have tried to understand his persona far more adroitly. It doesn’t help that Sartaj continues to wear one stock expression and gets his real act together only when he plays the older Maharaja.

Despite the focus on his transformation to a patriot and a devout Sikh, there are no transformative moments in the film. His personal relationships, both with Queen Victoria, supposed to be  maternal, warm and effusive, and with his first wife too, lack emotional depth. The only emotive chord is struck by Sartaj’s  voice and poetry. If he is more impactful as singer-poet, the film makes greater point in the closing when it states certain facts.

How the British refused to honour Duleep’s wish and cremated him as per Christian belief and how none of his nine children left behind any heir are far more stirring truths than the soulful expressions its actors continue to carry through the film. Even when it packs in intrigue and unravels the changed Maharaja’s revolutionary zeal, it doesn’t quite hasten up things. Certainly here was a story that deserved to be told, only with greater intensity and quicker pace.

Of course, if you are a stickler for Sikh heritage, the half- baked attempt might pass muster.  

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