Freedom at Midnight review: Interestingly, Nikkhil Advani’s new series releases on the same day as his directorial debut. Kal Ho Naa Ho, his 2004 blockbuster romantic comedy, is being re-released in cinemas in its 20th anniversary year on November 15. Across these two decades – Nikkhil has gone from rom-coms to gritty dramas, and his latest work shows how crucial his voice is to lend poise and prestige to the progressively volatile streaming landscape.
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India’s response to The Crown
It’s quite surprising that Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre’s 1975 book on the last leg of India’s freedom struggle hasn’t been adapted into a film or show in the near 50 years since its release. Watching Nikkhil’s adaptation feels like it’s taken its own sweet time to shape, breathe, and make its presence felt. It’s not a rush job by any stretch, whether it’s the research that’s gone into the production design, the detailing that’s gone into the prosthetic of actors, or even the intricacies invested in the dialogues of the show.
There have been movies on India’s freedom struggle in abundance, including 3 movies alone on revolutionary freedom fighter Bhagat Singh. But Freedom At Midnight chooses to stick to the mainstream and wisely restricts its scope to mostly the two years between India’s Independence and Partition. It follows the events of Gandhi-Jinnah talks in 1944 and strategically drops the curtains right before the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi. The imminent, inevitable pain of Partition never lets us enjoy the long-awaited independence for too long.
Of course, it’s not as expansive but Freedom at Midnight comes the closest to becoming what The Crown is to the UK. It gives us an insider’s account of what transpired behind closed doors at the Viceroy’s House and the Indian National Congress’ head office – shining a light on all the complications, compromises, small victories, and ideological conflicts. It feels like both an epic and an authentic retelling because of not only its scale, but also its diversity. We’ve either seen films on this subject swear by shuddh Hindi or their essence get squandered by English dialogues and treatment (case in point: Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi). Freedom At Midnight captures India in all its rich diverse glory – where people speak in Punjabi, Gujarati, Hindi, and English – not just the Britishers, but also the highly-educated Indian freedom fighters.
No one man’s story
It also helps that Freedom at Midnight is not a biopic – it’s not obsessed with any one particular figure. Viceroy’s House – Gurinder Chadha’s 2017 historical was also partly adapted from Freedom at Midnight – but its focus was decidedly on the last Viceroy of India, Lord Mountbatten and his wife, Lady Mountbatten. Nikkhil Advani’s show, however, is more India-centric and covers the entire spectrum between Gandhi’s non-violent, truth-driven idealism and Mohammed Ali Jinnah’s exploitative, communal incitement of violence. It’s a fairly wide stretch between both ends, populated by the likes of Jawharlal Nehru, India’s first prime minister, and Sardar Vallabbhai Patel, India’s first home minister.
When Freedom at Midnight traverses this grey space, it remains the most engaging. For instance, Sardar Patel, whose birth anniversary is now celebrated as National Unity Day, is shown as ironically one of the first leaders to surrender to the idea of Pakistan. He was a nationalist, but also a realist who reasoned that the finger should be chopped off before the poison reaches the arm. Similarly, Jawaharlal Nehru, known as a symbol of socialism and secularism, didn’t budge from his idealistic stand for very long, even as hundreds of his fellow innocent Indians were massacred in riots across the nation.
Of course, Jinnah is shown as all-evil, but his motivations are established early on – he operates from a place of ego, jealousy with Gandhi, a selfish streak to leave a lasting legacy – and not from the moral ground of getting his people their own land. His hypocrisy is exposed in two key scenes. First, when he’s trying to convince the Shiromani Akali Dal to align with him by saying Pakistan is for everyone, not just Muslims. The Sikh leader then asks Jinnah why he’s fighting for a separate nation then, if the idea is for everyone to live together. In another scene, when the British disallow him from merging the whole of Punjab and Bengal into Pakistan because they also have large Hindu populations, his sister Fatima Jinnah stomps her feet and says identities are more regional than religious. How rich coming from the Jinnah family?
Nikkhil and his team of writers also manage to show something new about Gandhi. Although he was the pioneer of non-violence in the Indian freedom struggle, he also had a tenacious ability to stomach violence. Violence not upon him, but upon others. Of course, bloodshed affected him deeply, but Gandhi’s vision took the better of his intolerance towards violence. We see everyone from Sardar Patel, Nehru, and even the Mountbattens surrender to the ordeal of Partition after they witness the aftermath of riots first-hand. But Gandhi doesn’t give in to this knee-jerk reaction. He’s a true statesman – he thinks of the next generation and how an emotional response to a short-term problem could cause decades of irrevocable, ceaseless trauma.
Characters over actors
Nikkhil and his casting director round up an ensemble cast that gives precedence to characters over actors. For instance, Sidhant Gupta, who broke out in the role of budding filmmaker Jay Khanna in Vikramaditya Motwane’s period drama Jubilee last year, is cast as Nehru in Freedom at Midnight. He sure looks the part – even thought his skin looks undeniably young at 57. Sidhant gives Nehru the modern spin it desperately demanded – showing him as a competent lawyer who speaks impeccable English and carries off unblemished suits, yet cares deeply for not only the nation, but also the ideals he lives by. His pride is as evident for a free India as is his ache for a divided one.
Arif Zakaria as Mohammed Ali Jinnah is possibly the most suitable casting of the lot. The actor organically evokes despise and invincibility. Even though he’s physically pale and can’t speak more than two sentences without coughing, his vacant eyes and steely spine are enough to convey his formidability. Casting Gandhi is always tricky territory, but Chirag Vohra pulls off this Herculean task with enviable gravitas. His transformation from a young, raw Gandhi to the old, wise Father of the Nation is a bit stark yet completely convincing. His glance and gait enhance the immersive prosthetic and make him the most striking Gandhi of our cinema, probably next to Dilip Prabhavalkar’s turn in Lage Raho Munna Bhai.
Sardar Vallabbhai Patel is the wild card of the show, just like he was of the Indian freedom struggle. Besides Sardar, Ketan Mehta’s definitive 1993 film starring Paresh Rawal, Patel hasn’t received the celluloid space he deserves. Rajendra Chawla gives Sardar Patel the grit and gentleness he was known for. A shrewd politician, an efficient leader, a resolute home minister, a seldom-submissive but never-dismissive follower, Sardar Patel gets more shades than he’s ever gotten on screen. It’s also good to see Rajesh Kumar, best known for playing Rosesh in Sarabhai Vs Sarabhai, venture out of his stereotype and essay Liaquat Ali Khan, the rabblerousing partner-in-crime of Jinnah.
The women, however, get the short end of the stick. Malishka Mendonsa, Mumbai’s popular Radio Jockey, makes for an interesting Sarojini Naidu but her role is largely limited to that of a messenger. Fatima Jinnah (Ira Dubey) is introduced as a feisty woman with a mind of her own, but in the course of the show, she’s reduced to either a soundboard or a caretaker of her brother. Lady Mountbatten is also established to be at par with her husband, but like history, even the show is compelled to treat her less as the self-proclaimed Communist sympathiser, and more as a submissive slave to the Crown. Her grief at watching the plight of Indian women during riots thus feels very ineffective. So do a couple of scene devices to make the proceedings more layered than they already are – like Nehru and Patel losing their way out inside the Viceroy’s House.
That’s the thing with historicals – they need to adhere to the truth, but also make for an engaging watch. Interesting bits can be cherry-picked, but omissions are often penalised. Nikkhil Advani had the crutch of ready source material and the confidence of Rocket Boys in his favour. Initially, Freedom at Midnight feels like it derives from the successful show produced by Nikkhil and directed by Abhay Pannu, given its muted, luminescent lighting and rousing background score (tailor-made from songs like Vande Matram and Rabindranath Tagore’s Ekla Cholo Re). But as the clock strikes, it soon awakes “to life and freedom,” like a nation fresh out of her coloniser’s chains.
Freedom at Midnight is now streaming on SonyLIV.