Sultan is Sexist (& Having Salman Khan Does NOT Make it Okay)

Salman Khan’s Sultan is sexist and illogical – can we stop applauding and excusing it simply ‘coz it’s bhai’s film?

I confess with a heavy heart that I watched Sultan. I never intended to; I certainly stuck firm to my resolve to not add to ticket sales by queueing up at a theatre. But sometimes, somehow, the best-laid plans…

To cut a Khan story short, on a recent college reunion trip to the hills –  and totally outnumbered by three very enthusiastic Sallu fans – Sultan was played (and painstakingly replayed) on a cellphone, over a nauseatingly long car drive. So, now that I can no longer revel in the fact that I skipped the movie, let’s cut to the chase.

There are a number of things I learned on that car drive. One, a Salman Khan movie will prevail on most journeys, because star power easily trumps lack of logic (think: Happy New Year, Gunday…). Two, a Salman Khan movie will incite the most unfortunate laughs at even the most sexist jokes because, Bhai. And three, even the grainiest of cellphone footage will not mask or quell the horror of lines like: “Manne toh suna hai Angreji mein ladki jaldi pate hai.” Facepalm.

But even if any of the above has enraged you (or not), are you really surprised? The movie, in its opening week, has grossed over Rs 180 crore and is only soaring higher each day.

Sultan is choc-a-bloc with typically ‘Bhai’ things that really should’ve died at the edit table...

The Unsurprising Sexism, For Instance...

Cue mandatory warning about spoilers ahead.

Here we go. The story, in a nutshell, deals with how Anushka Sharma as Aarfa is a wonderful wrestler who – along with her father – announces that her one dream in life is to be an Olympic gold medallist. She schools a stalker-ish Salman Khan against – well, stalking – telling him she’d only ever fall for a wrestler. By the stretch of non-existent Salman Khan logic, of course our bhai picks up wrestling – and becomes good enough at it to win every class of championship medals. Aarfa is successfully ‘patao-ed’ (what did you expect?) and marries him.

What after, though? Anushka Sharma’s character trajectory comes to a very predictable halt as she becomes pregnant and decides to give up wrestling for the has-turned-into-a-wrestler-by-fluke Sultan. There is this particularly poignant scene where Aarfa’s father admonishes her for the unplanned birth, asking her what she plans to do about the elusive gold medal – to which Anushka’s character stares dreamily at a dancing Salman in the distance and announces they will transfer all “medal hopes” to him. Cue slow clap.

If that were all. Sure, you can argue that choice, whichever way it turns, is choice too – but answer me this: where does the character of Aarfa wisp off to after her role in Sultan’s transition is done? She’s crafted the wrestler, offered him a ‘lakshya’ and then has mysteriously little to contribute to the story. Sultan, of course, has a whole pro-wrestling league blitzkrieg waiting for him, but that’s another story…

P.S. Did anyone else spot another primary female character anywhere in the almost 3-hour long movie?

Because “Bhai Logic” Begins & Ends With a Bhai Film

Case in point? Salman Khan spends much of the first half playing a 20-year-old (I swear, I bumped my head here with no apparent speed bump in sight). He also, of course, metamorphoses into a world-class wrestler, winning medals like they’re chump change within a few months of his career change. And why do Sultan and Aarfa break up, you ask? Why, because their baby dies soon after being born while Sultan is away, winging it at world championships (you better believe it).

This is reason enough for the duo to not speak for years (we’re never told exactly how long, but we can presume long enough for Sultan to continue looking exactly like he did in the first half.)

In short, the very long Sultan is a tribute to everything that makes a ‘Bhai’ film and it’s time someone realised that’s not okay. Your laughing at his sexist quips only perpetuates the problem. Your shrugging when you pass off the absence of women in his films as a non-issue adds to the problem. It’s time someone stopped saying, “Yes, yes, it’s all that, but yeh bhai hai na bhai….”

Will it start with you?