Review: ‘Maharaj’ Encourages Deeper Conversations Than the Ones It Tries To Have

'Maharaj' marks Junaid Khan's debut and is streaming on Netflix.

Janaid Khan in a still from Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: Netflix)

­“A devotee who can’t ask questions is incomplete and so is a faith that can’t answer questions” – this dialogue from Netflix’s latest Maharaj summarises the message at its heart. Maharaj, based on Saurabh Shah’s book of the same name, follows the events leading up to a very significant court battle in India’s history – the Maharaj libel case of 1862.

Jaideep Ahlawat in a still from Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: Netflix)

On trial was social reformer and journalist Karsandas Mulji (along with Nanabhai Rustomji Ranina but the film focuses on the former). In Maharaj, the case of libel is filed by Yadunath Maharaj or JJ (Jaideep Ahlawat) against Karsan (Junaid Khan in his debut) after the latter makes accusations and allegations of sexual misconduct against the former. Karsan alleges that JJ is exploiting his devotees and JJ, to protect his reputation, takes the matter to court.

As I’ve already mentioned that the film is Junaid Khan’s debut, let’s first discuss the performances. Khan is, by no means, a seasoned actor yet – a reality that becomes more obvious when he shares the screen with someone as brilliant as Ahlawat. But that is not to say that he doesn’t succeed to bringing Karsan to life for the most part. As a revolutionary, confrontation and the monologues that come with it are expected and Karsan plays that part well.

Janaid Khan in a still from Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: Netflix)

Facing Karsan is JJ – Ahlawat is a force of nature. This is an actor who truly understands what it means to embody a character. It isn’t Ahlawat that you’re watching on screen, it’s JJ – the intricacies of the character are so well portrayed that you almost feel a rage in your chest for the actor. The cast also includes Shalini Pandey as Karsan’s doe-eyed fiancée Kishori and Sharvari Wagh as his self-assured and assertive admirer.

Pandey’s role might not be long but it is important and the actor pulls her weight in that aspect. Wagh, however, is the real highlight. The second she steps into the screen, the movie seems to come alive – her energy is infectious and her character work is impressive. It’s a character like hers that highlights another aspect of the film – the language of gender.

When I think of the film’s language, there are three particular conversations that come to mind – about faith vs. blind faith, of women, and of caste. The first is the best executed. Through JJ’s character and Karsan’s thoughts (and the people’s reactions to it), the film takes a look at how dangerous blind faith can be. Consistently Maharaj highlights the importance of ‘questions’ – all our childhood we ask questions.

A still from Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: Netflix)

We wonder why the sky is blue; we ask if we can buy another packet of chips. We wonder why it’s darker after six and we ask why we can’t eat an entire cake. Why, then, do we not let this inquisitiveness – so intrinsic to the human nature – turn into questioning everything? Through Karsan, the film also takes a look at independent journalism and social reform as a whole. How does someone dedicated to social reform get their message across and in a battle between truth and misinformation, who do we actually doubt?

To understand a film like Maharaj, one must understand the story’s socio-political context as well.

In the 1860s and 70s, conversations surrounding women’s emancipation were beginning (primarily, the conversation around widow remarriage) but even these conversations happened within the confines of the patriarchal family system.

The film doesn’t get into that particular nuance but it does look into the need for such reform.

Even so, one can’t help but wonder why Wagh’s character isn’t used to turn Karsan’s lens inwards – he is not a perfect man and is clearly not averse to questions. The conversation that doesn’t get much nuance, however, is the one around caste. The film hints at caste politics but doesn’t do it justice. To be clear, I don’t expect the characters to be “woke” (as some of you might say) but I expect the film – made in the late 2000s – to be more so.

Sharvari Wagh in a still from Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: Netflix)

To wrap things up, let’s talk about Maharaj ‘the film’ -- there are parts where the sets (as grand as they are) seem like ‘sets’ instead of a setting which would be more of a bother if the cinematography wasn’t so adept at keeping you engaged. The songs, peppered across the film in true Bollywood fashion, don’t feel amiss – they’re actually quite fun. The background score, however, is too overbearing. There are moments where you wish the score would just be quiet so the gravity of the situation could set in. The film is quite melodramatic by itself in bits and the score doesn’t help its case.

The poster for Maharaj.

(Photo Courtesy: X)

And while it starts several conversations, it’s difficult to ignore the fact that it doesn’t properly conduct them all the time. A light research would suggest that, as the battle of wits between Mulji and the Maharaj waged, the latter would often engage in public debate (even with the media). It’s a pity that these discussions are absent from the film.

Maharaj, as a piece of work, is more impactful because of the conversations it starts than the ones it has. Before I sign out, I’ll leave you with a thought -- a movie based on a controversial case from the 1860s landed in controversy (and court) itself in 2024.

Rating: 3 Quints out of 5