Movie Review: Pippa, a rare War movie from Bollywood

 A movie named after a tank. It has got to be rare!

A Bollywood movie without a love interest, even rarer.

A war movie with a Punjabi hero not played by Sunny Deol, about as rare as the Kohinoor.

I found Pippa to be reasonably realistic, compared to the standard Bollywood war movies, with a few exceptions. 

The tanks are the authentic Soviet PT-76s with the Indian Army modification of a standing (and extremely risky) commander. The Bullet used by the protagonist is authentic 1970s (although that particular bike hasn't ever changed). The Mahindra Jeeps, the SLR/.303 rifles, the clothes worn by Bangladeshi refugees and freedom fighters, the uniforms, the one Pakistani jet shown. 

The big unrealistic item (for me) was AK-type weapons being used by both the Indian and Pakistani armies, as well as the Mukti Bahini freedom fighters. It surprised me to the extent that I did a quick Google search. I didn't find any mention of our Soldiers using AKs, or even SKS. The Indian Infantryman was entirely on the Ishapore-made licensed copies of the Belgian FN-FAL, it seems. The Pakistanis, being then and now stooges of the Chinese, did have some Type 56s, and the Bangladeshi freedom fighters obviously used every weapon they could get their hands on, including bows and arrows, and muskets probably last used at Plassey. Obviously, Type 56s captured from the Pakistanis were part of their hodge-podge armoury. 

As usual with Bollywood, the best actor is the villain of the piece, Inamulhaq as the Razakar Shibli.

The Razakars were an auxiliary force of the Pakistani Army in East Pakistan, made up of pro-Pakistan Bengalis and Biharis. They were accused of the worst excesses, including mass murders, gang rapes, and worse, against Bangladeshi freedom fighters, civilians, and Indian Armed forces personnel unlucky enough to fall into their hands. Many of them were sentenced to death by the government of Bangladesh in later years.

Inamulhaq, the consummate actor, imbues the part with a sadism which must have been part of the mental make-up of a Razakar. Shooting half-dead Mukti Bahini warriors, torturing the captured Major Ram Mehta, and casually shooting a random captured person to make space in a vehicle, he makes you hate him viscerally, just what a villainous role should do. He even mastered the cruder version of the Bangladeshi accent. (As a descendant of 1947 refugees from that part of the world, I should identify which part of Bangladesh that accent is from, but sadly, I can't!). And the cuss words!!

The treatment of cuss words is pretty well done. Nothing over the top, like the web series of today, and nothing imperfectly censored or silent lip-syncing. Shove a khargosh up your arse.

Smoking is treated in a very mature 1970s way, not the typical hysteria of the 2020s. The last scene with the brothers bonding over a cigarette, the sister sharing her younger brother's smoke. Done quite well. (My being a heavy smoker does bias my above comments.) 

Death scenes (the one of Major Daljit Singh Narag, aka "Chiefy") are done with just slightly extra pathos, unlike the long-drawn-out gasping, deaths accompanied by flashbacks of families and sweethearts which our movie Soldiers have to suffer. Chiefy simply gets two bullets in the chest, and dies. Probably the way the real Chiefy would have liked to go. The pathos is mainly in the handling of the salute part.  

The characterisation of Captain Balram Mehta could have been taken down a bit. For a Captain, he is probably too rebellious. Although rumour has it that our boys in the tanks, much like the Special Forces, have a different understanding of military discipline and protocol, than the normal Infantryman. If those rumours are true, then a Captain and a Major chit-chatting like buddies probably is not such a huge gaffe on the part of the movie-makers.

Something which galled me somewhat was Chiefy ironing his own socks. Shouldn't he (in 1971) have had a batman to do the job? Another point is that the bungalow where the Mehta family stays, in Delhi, is probably a family quarter allocated to Major Ram Singh Mehta, the older brother, but seems to be a little too high-end for a Major. Army quarters all over the world are allocated based on rank, and after all, a Major is relatively junior. The furniture also seems a tad civilian, not like the standardised Army furniture.

The Commander-in-Chief, General Sam Maneckshaw speaking fluent Hindi? This was the gentleman who, on the 15th of August, 1947, reportedly addressed his men with "aaj se hum muft ho gaye". And all interviews I have seen of the Field Marshal being in a very Sandhurst English.   

I appeal to movie-makers to get an actress to play the late Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, who has half the personality, presence, and charisma of the lady herself. The actress seems weak! 

The actor playing K. N. Kao does a reasonably good job of India's spymaster. Mr. Kao was so secretive that there are no real impressions of him, so any somewhat intellectual acting, with heavy-framed black glasses, would work. Oh well, R&AW probably has a moratorium on its real name being used.

And please, please, please, can we not have Army officers breaking into song and dance at parties where very senior officers, as well as Ministry people, of two countries are present? Captain Mehta might have had a rumble in the hay with the Russian lady interpreter, but I am pretty sure he didn't sing and dance at the handover party for the PT-76s! Bollywood's artistic license, I guess.

 Overall, these are minor niggles for a film which finally addresses the conflict in the East. The tremendous human suffering of the Bangladeshi civilians and Mukti Bahini warriors is almost forgotten. The mass rapes, the women dragged off into sex slavery, the massacre of intellectuals, are all forgotten. I hope not in Bangladesh!

And so is the tremendous strategic, tactical, and operational prowess shown by the Indian Armed Forces and Intelligence Community from the top level down to the individual Soldier. With a General like Sam Bahadur, is it any wonder?

The masterstroke of a covert operation at Garibpur, the bravery of many Indian Army officers and men, who like Major Ram Singh Mehta, worked undercover with the Mukti Bahini, the intrepid fighter pilots who with their obsolescent Gnats and Hunters, took on and beat the Pakistani Airforce equipped with the latest American Sabre fighters, and trained by none other than the legendary Charles Yeager. The Navy chipping in with the Aircraft Carrier, INS Vikrant, rendering a total blockage of the ports in East Pakistan, and the missile boats smashing half of the Pakistani navy at Karachi.

The use of our old relationship with the Soviet Union to have USSR nuclear submarines block the mighty Seventh Fleet (which would have created havoc, including massive bombing of civilian targets in India like Calcutta and Madras). That was a master-stroke by Mrs. G!

And of course, the millions of Bangladeshis who suffered. The thousands who fought. With whatever they could get their hands on. Massive respect to them! Little wonder that so many Bangladeshis of my generation (born in 1971-73) are named or nicknamed Swadhin, Biplab, and similar!

And what of the reported mauling of the famous Nazrul song karar oi louho kopat by A. R. Rehman? Shouldn't  I, as a Bengali, protest? About 80% of Bengalis all over the world are protesting!

Well, frankly, I missed the song. Half the songs, I didn't really understand. Plus, I tend to ignore songs in war movies. That Army item number for the Russian girl, I took a smoke break.

And anyway, does it really matter? Bengalis have been mauling Rabindra Sangeet, so why protest if a Tamilian mauls Nazrul Geeti? 

Not being a movie reviewer syndicated to any official media, I will not rate the movie with stars or something. But I would seriously request my small number of good friends to watch the movie. 

Joy Bangla, Jai Hind!