The director handles his performers with similar sensitivity and intelligence, and all three offer real star turns, thereby avoiding fading into some singularly lavish scenery. After Prem Ratan Dhan Payo, it’s this year’s second Hindi film to construct a glittering Palace of Mirrors, although Bhansali can’t resist adding extra layers of polish: surfaces so reflective they beam a prototypical cinema into adjacent suites, a lilting song, Deewani Mastani, in which Padukone makes pop culture’s greatest use of a mandolin since REM’s Losing My Religion and Bhansali paints the screen Indian Ivy.
Uh-oh.īhansali’s dramatising an ugly business, yet long stretches confirm this director is incapable of framing anything other than an entirely captivating shot: this is a film that plays out to the forgiving flicker of candlelight, and knows full well the pleasures of letting the eye roam. For Mastani, however, this battle isn’t over: soon, she’s riding into court, demanding further satisfaction from the man she loves. Victory assured, they repair to hers to compare scars – “Your wound is deep, let me see it,” Bajirao insists, a line more Geordie Shore than Mughal empire – but it appears a one-time thing once the blood cools, our hero returns to family life. Singh’s Bajirao – warmonger-in-chief of the 18th-century Maratha regime – is introduced playing away: leaving decorous wife Kashi ( Priyanka Chopra) at home, he’s sent to liberate the besieged Bundelkhand region, where he falls into stride with local warrior princess Mastani ( Padukone).
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