“Devdas,” the 1917 novella by Bengali author Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, is one of the most commonly adapted stories in Indian cinema, and the tale's star-crossed romance and harsh critique of contemporary social mores have served as an influence for countless books and films. By the time then up-and-coming auteur Anurag Kashyap began conceiving his own take on “Devdas,” there had been at least fifteen movies directly or indirectly based on the novel, and the wildly popular Shah Rukh Khan version had recently been released in 2002. Not wanting to merely copy what came before, Kashyap decided to alter the story to reflect 21st-century social issues. This resulted in 2009's “Dev. D,” a bold adaptation that brought an arthouse style to general audiences.
Follow our coverage of Bollywood by clicking on the image below
The basic plot outline stays loyal to the source material. A rich young man named Dev (Abhay Deol) is in a passionate young romance with Paro (Mahie Gill) despite her coming from a less wealthy family. Their bond is deep, but romantic jealousy and class differences soon lead to them going down different paths in life. After their separation, Dev sinks into a cycle of substance abuse and hedonism fueled by his memories of her. During this painful period, his connection with a sensitive sex worker named Chanda (Kalki Koechlin) offers a chance at redemption.
While the original story focused mainly on the caste differences between the lovers, Kashyap and co-writer Vikramaditya Motwane take a psychological approach that touches on modern misogyny, sexual double standards, and fragile masculinity. While the issue of money does come up, the central romance is not depicted as being “forbidden.” Instead, the tragedy is a result of personal failings more than external forces.
Check also this interview
As the lead, Deol excels at communicating those inner-demons. He manages to capture Dev's immature, self-destructive personality while making him an engaging protagonist. Despite the actor's good looks and famous family name, his portrayal has none of the vanity that could have dragged down another performer. He puts himself through the emotional wringer, and he plays nicely off of the two women in the character's life.
Gill is revelatory as Paro, and it's easy to see how her work here catapulted her to greater stardom, as she captures all of the idealism and quiet anger of a young woman torn apart by her own emotions. Then there's Kalki Koechlin, the French-Indian star who made her debut as Chanda. The soulful courtesan role had already been filled by titans such as Vyjayanthimala and Madhuri Dixit, but Koechlin more than holds her own, providing a much-needed warmth and beyond-her-years maturity to scenes that would otherwise be hard to sit through.
Kashyap brings the best out of the talent, but, for better or worse, his hyperkinetic direction often steals the show. Despite his success at that point, he was still pushing himself and taking inspiration from unexpected sources. Take, for example, the heavily stylized party scenes that fill the second half. Reportedly, Kashyap's vital approach to filmmaking in movies like “Black Friday” served as an inspiration to Danny Boyle when he made “Slumdog Millionaire,” and Boyle returned the creative favor by suggesting different techniques with a still camera that could convey the highs and lows of the story's debauchery and put viewers into the headspace of an addict (the very first frame gives a special thanks to the British director). Other sequences take cues from music videos and classic arthouse cinema; at a few points, the use of stuttering frames calls to mind 90s Hong Kong classics like “Chungking Express.”
Sometimes, this experimentation is distracting. The film frequently mixes choreographed, MTV-style performances (sometimes from a trio of dancers billed as the “The Twilight Players”) into more traditional scenes. It's an interesting idea, but it has an overwhelming effect on moments that could have been subtly heart wrenching. Some of the maximalist, effects-heavy partying feels a little dated now, too. Kashyap was always known as a gutsy force in the industry, but he was also part of a broader creative movement that's easier to identify now (call it “Post-Wong Kar Wai”).
But when the powerful acting melds with the dynamic direction and everything clicks, “Dev. D” soars. Interestingly, for a movie so concerned with the dangers of addiction and alcoholism, there's something intoxicating about the way its smallest moments creep under your skin and push you to keep watching despite the emotional pain on the screen. This is a movie that understands the bittersweet pleasure of reliving long-gone memories that can never be returned to, as masochistic and irresistible as pressing your tongue into a toothache. The formal daring on display doesn't take away from the emotional core, and early scenes of innocent infatuation between Dev and Paro haunt the film as it progresses further into the darkness.
The script has some faults, to be sure. There's something self-indulgent about the repetition in the later chapters, and Kashyap's desire to incorporate ripped-from-the-headlines narrative beats leads to a few subplots that feel uncomfortably close to soap opera exploitation. Regardless of these less graceful notes, “Dev. D” is an engaging work of cinematic humanism, one in which careless sex and moral weakness coexist with gentle eroticism and true selflessness. It deserves to be seen.
