Integritus Prime

Hypervigilance led me to watch Ek Deewane Ki Deewaniyat, a new Bollywood release. I was drawn to the movie because of its soundtrack, and because I’m one of those Sanam Teri Kasam fans. I must say this film was disappointing, because the plot seemed disjointed and bumpy, with many red flags going up for me as a trauma coach. In this post, I want to dig a little deeper into some of the themes, but first – spoiler alert – let’s look at the synopsis.

Vikram Aditya Bhosle (played by Harshvardhan Rane) is a young politician groomed by his father; he is vying for the Chief Minister role. Adaa (Sonam Bajwa) is a Bollywood actor. Vikram falls in love at first sight with Adaa, becomes obsessed with her, and tries to sabotage her career to get her to agree to marry him. Simultaneously, he helps a young boy financially so he can go to school, and helps Adaa’s father when he is maligned by a thief stealing exam papers. Vikram comes across as a political Robin Hood, an obsessed maniac, and a patriarchal lover who wants to control and dote on his damsel, whom he has plunged into distress.

Meanwhile, Adaa is a modern and independent young woman, who points out that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for Vikram, and pushes back. When Vikram is unrelenting in his quest to possess Adaa, she makes an announcement that she will spend a night with whomever can kill Vikram. She asserts her power to combat Vikram’s while also stooping to his level, and perhaps beyond. Essentially, she puts a bounty on his head. Vikram reacts by paying someone get himself shot – a sadistic and pathetic act. We learn through Vikram’s right hand man, Saawant (played remarkably well by Shaad Randhawa) that Vikram’s father (played by Sachin Khedekar) brainwashed him into believing Vikram is the reason his mother died when he was born. Saawant is loyal to Khedekar, but his emotions compel him to betray the father to support the son.

Once Vikram learns this, he very abruptly apologizes to Adaa, saying that her choice is most important, and then proceeds to continue to wish to marry her. Vikram’s transformation lacks substance – he is still desperate and inconsistent and lost. Khedekar’s character orders Saawant to shoot Adaa, and Saawant, perhaps out of reawakened loyalty to this villainous father (who knows?), tries to shoot Adaa but Vikram gets in front of her, takes the bullet to the heart, begs Adaa’s forgiveness, and dies. She forgives him but a moment too late, then immediately puts on the engagement ring he was holding.

If you’re not pulling your hair out yet, you’re a lot more tolerant than me.

The plot could use some finessing and consistency for sure, but let’s look at the extremes of Vikram Aditya Bhosle’s character. To be sure, he is obssessive, this is revealed to be because his father has taught him to take whatever he wants, and if he cannot get it, to burn it. Vikram, however, wants to destroy himself if he can’t get Adaa – a clear lack of self-worth. Adaa is objectified and placed on a pedestal as a perfect solution and remedy for his painful childhood. In a scene where he is showing her his house, he begs her to keep their children close to them on the second floor. This is the obsessive raving of an inner child who lost his mother and was terrorized by his father. Vikram desperately wants to create a family situation that is idyllic, because his own was beyond dysfunctional.

Vikram is also a bag of contradictions when it comes to emotions. He is arrogant, corrupt, and yet honest in some of his charitable activities. He seems misogynist and patriarchal in the way he treats Adaa when she refuses him, and yet professes undying “love” for her. He is adamant about his honorability when his father has Adaa kidnapped and tells Vikram to rape her. Vikram gives a speech about how he is not a villain, and drops her home, but is still loyal to his father. On another occasion, Vikram’s rage erupts right after he begs Adaa to accept him and she refuses. These examples all point to someone who is not only unstable, but in agony. Vikram lives in reaction to his childhood trauma. He now seeks to control Adaa and subconsciously use her as a balm for his emotional wounds. He wants acceptance, because his father has always rejected him as unworthy and a predator who ate his mother’s life by being born – serious and complex trauma.

Adaa is correct to oppose Vikram, because none of his traumatic realities have anything to do with her. But to put a bounty on his head – why escalate things to that level? To be fair, she tries to solicit help from the police, but they all work for Vikram in the corrupt political landscape. Her retaliation and hatred show desperation to keep her stardom, with arrogance and defiance as she seeks to use her fans to get rid of the obsessive obstacle that is Vikram. In yet another random scene, Vikram donates blood to a cause Adaa is supporting, and she spills his blood to avoid any assistance to him should he ever need it, given his rare blood type. Perhaps they deserve each other – both their ethics are appalling. The dramatic portrayal of love and hate make for ethical nightmares.

However, some of Adaa’s lines are laden with female empowerment – she asks Vikram how in the world he can be in charge of her maryaada (honor). She asserts that it is up to her to decide what is honorable for her. This is true – women have long been subjugated and objectified and fought over. Women should have the right to decide what is right for them. But to order a kill as a symbol of empowerment? That’s stretching it. Later, the moment Vikram dies, she promptly negates her empowerment by putting on the ring offered by an obsessive and desperate man whom she wanted dead, and for whom she insisted she had no romantic interest.

Again, you might be pulling your hair out by now. I was. Fortunately, I have thick hair.

So, while the movie attempts to make its mark as a story about romantic obsession, it’s really a misguided and shallow attempt at illustrating how trauma plays out in romance. In doing so, it makes a mess out of characters, ethics and emotions. I expected more from Rane, who has come a long way, but a strong plot, powerful acting, and some character coherence would be infinitely better and isn’t too much to ask for, given the plethora of Bollywood movies that portray trauma impeccably well, such as Highway, Maharaja, Maharaj, Do Patti, Sector 36, Animal, and countless others. The bar is pretty high these days. Perhaps it would have been better to simply enjoy the soundtrack without watching the damn film.