Gandhi

Richard Attenborough's Gandhi (1982) is an old-fashioned epic biopic with a cast of thousands, an impressive scope and a brilliant lead performance by Ben Kingsley. It tells the story of a truly great man on a scale few films could hope to match. Its only flaw is its perhaps overly-worshipful portrayal of its protagonist, but all things considered, it's fairly forgivable.

The film tells the life story of Mohandis K. Gandhi (Ben Kingsley), the Indian activist who went from small-time lawyer in South Africa to Indian messiah and international icon. Gandhi's protests start small against discrimination of Indian coolies in South Africa, but gradually build to monumental proportions. Using his tactics of nonviolent resistance, Gandhi gradually wears down the befuddled British Raj and makes continued British rule untenable. However, he is unable to prevent the partition of India into Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan, and he can only try to prevent the internicine violence from growing into an all-out war.

Gandhi was a life-long obsession for Richard Attenborough. After twenty years of preparation, and the failing of similar projects by David Lean and Fred Zinnemann, Attenborough finally got the chance to put his vision on the screen. Attenborough's left-wing sympathies were made clear in his earlier directorial efforts (Oh! What a Lovely War!, A Bridge Too Far), and the film is resolutely in this mould, never doubting the righteousness of Gandhi's cause or tactics. The film's morality is fairly simple, but also very clear in its condemnation of violence and imperialism, its embrace of humanism, peace, equality and understanding. It's a film that's both accessible and thoughtful, plaintitve and considered.

The film shows Gandhi as a truly unique leader, the antithesis of conventional historical earth-shakers who forged their name in blood. Non-violence as a tactic is shown to be brutally effective, simply because there's no good way to fight back: violence will only make one look bad; imprisoning him only angers the public; killing Gandhi will make him a martyr; and, in this case, argument is hopeless, as Britain's rule in India has not a moral leg to stand on. The British, from General Jan Smuts (Athol Fugard) in South Africa to the various British officials (John Mills, John Gielgud, Nigel Hawthorne) consistently underestimate Gandhi, viewing him as a "half-naked fakir" (in Churchill's words) who will simply go away if ignored or appeased to a degree. But he simply cannot be ignored; his populist appeal to the masses is undeniable, and the righteousness of his cause nigh-impossible to question. Imperialism, even Britain's relatively benign model, is impossible to justify as anything than blatant power-grabbing; Britain's violent reaction to Gandhi's protests only lays bare the lie that the Raj is propagating progress and prosperity. Unfortunately for everyone, the predictable fissures in race and religion rend India apart, leaving the country soaked in blood and Gandhi's dream in tatters.

The film's hagiographic portrayal of Gandhi is to be expected, not only for Attenborough's personal politics but because Gandhi has become an untouchable icon of righteousness few in the 20th Century have matched (eg. Martin Luther King and Mother Theresa). The movie makes Gandhi an almost godly figure, speaking in fortune cookie aphorisms (many of which are, to be fair, real quotes - but surely he spoke in conversational tones on occasion), being an ideal father and husband, virtually without religion, lacking in vanity or selfishness and all-knowing and endlessly wise, sweeping the more unsavory sides of his character - his religious fundamentalism, his indifference towards black South Africans, his tacit support of the Axis in World War II - under the rug. One notes Orwell's admonition that "Saints should always be judged guilty until they are proved innocent"; yet Gandhi's image as an avatar of peaceful revolution has endured beyond any criticism.

Don't misunderstand: I certainly see Gandhi as an admirable figure, but also as a human being with faults and foibles. However, for a biopic to worship at the alter of its protagonist is nothing new, and perhaps it's unduly pedantic to complain it - especially considering how compelling a figure he is. Certainly Gandhi was able, for the most part, to put his personal prejudices aside to a degree few people can dream of, and for that alone he deserves his niche as one of modern history's great heroes.

Attenborough's direction is wonderful. His model is clearly his friend and idol David Lean, and marshalls a production even more expansive than any of Lean's films; the opening funeral alone still holds the record for most extras ever used in a film. The film's set pieces are powerfully done; the assassination, the funeral, the bloody and brutal Amritsar Massacre, the triumphant salt march, all expertly staged and marvellously photographed by Ronnie Taylor and Billy Williams, capturing the epochal beauty of India (though somewhat lacking in its squalor). John Briley's script is well-constructed storywise, but for dialogue too often falls back on glancing at Gandhi's page in Bartlet's Quotations. Ravi Shankar's score is wonderful.

Like all biopics, the film succeeds or falls on the strength of its lead performance, and Ben Kingsley is more than up for the task. Kingsley's portrayal is flawless, tackling the character head on and making him human for all his saintliness; he gives the Mahatma a warmth and vitality that the worshipful script is somewhat lacking. A virtual unknown at the time of the film's release, Kingsley became an overnight star with an impressive list of credits: Bugsy, Searching For Bobby Fischer, Schindler's List, Twelfth Night, Sexy Beast (and granted, dross like The Love Guru and Thunderbirds). But he has never topped his impressive feat as Gandhi, and rarely has a Best Actor Oscar been more deserved.

The supporting cast is a mixed bag. The best are the Indian actors: veterans like Roshan Seth (A Passage to India), Saeed Jaffrey (The Man Who Would Be King), Amrish Puri (Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom), Om Puri (Charlie Wilson's War) and one-time film actor Alyque Padamsee all give wonderful turns as Gandhi's friends and colleagues, and have enough screentime to make an impression. The prestigious Western cast is mostly reduced to cameos: veteran British actors like John Gielgud, Trevor Howard, John Mills, Michael Hordern, Nigel Hawthorne and Michael Bryant have little to do but act indignant towards Gandhi. Ian Charleson and Geraldine Paige as two of Gandhi's British allies make a much better impression; Edward Fox's blood-chilling appearance as General Dyer (responsible for the Amritsar slaughter) is far more memorable than his limited screen-time suggests. American stars Candice Bergen and Martin Sheen get token parts as journalists. A young Daniel Day-Lewis can be seen as a South African street punk. The film is clearly Kingsley's show, however, so Attenborough can be forgiven for giving the supporting cast less to do.

Gandhi achieves what it sets out to do very well. It's not a masterpiece, but it's a fine old-school biopic that has hardly dated in the twenty-seven years since its release.

Rating: 8/10 - Highly Recommended