Srikanth Review: Rajkummar Rao starrer is a radically optimistic, feel-good biopic marred by melodrama

While the film does sometimes come across as preachy, it more than makes up by making a pertinent point on how disability is treated in a South Asian context. (Image via Instagram)

The portrayal of disability in Indian cinema has often been marred by an over-sympathetic gaze towards the differently abled and an unnecessary glorification of their struggles. Seldom do we see a film that shows the disabled as humans — not inspiration porn or a cause for charity.

Tushar Hiranandani's directed Srikanth makes pertinent points about the lack of inclusivity in the Indian Education system, but the film cannot escape the trappings of this sympathetic gaze entirely.

Rajkummar Rao is Srikanth Bolla from Machilipatnam, a visually impaired boy who declares “Main dekh nahi sakta par lad sakta hu (I cannot see but I can fight)”. Rao's portrayal of the disability is earnest, devoid of the unnecessary stereotypes and exaggerations that sometimes creep in despite the best intentions. Rao's optimism is infectious; his smile uplifting.

Jyothika plays Devika, Srikanth’s mentor, who joins him in his fight against the Indian education system for not allowing the visually impaired students to opt for science.

Queue montages of Braille-coded letters, examination answer scripts written via a typewriter and an emboldened Srikanth who just wouldn’t let the world dull his sparkle even as it continues to discriminate against him.

The gaze which is largely sympathetic becomes empathetic eventually when Srikanth decides to return to India to make a difference — he teams up with his friend-cum-business partner Ravi (Sharad Kelkar) to start a business which employs the visually challenged.

An earnest Alaya F excels in the role she plays, even if the role isn’t meaty, and frankly, has very little substance to it. As Veera Awasthi, she urges Srikanth to go back to India and contribute towards the welfare of the society that raised him.

This critic was skeptical about the film’s treatment of disability initially, but Srikanth is not as abysmal as most films that portray the theme. In fact, it has just the right amount of feel-good charm that makes you root for the titular character without making them out to be a tragic figure.

While the film does sometimes come across as preachy, it more than makes up by making a pertinent point on how disability is treated in a South Asian context.

The film’s biggest win is that it compels the able-bodied viewers to question the preconceived notions they have about the differently-abled. The disabled, of course, are not paragons of virtue. They can have problematic traits, as does Srikanth, whose arrogance gets him expelled from his school. It is a radical step towards normalising the disabled who, like the rest of the world, have both vices and virtues.

A few scenes though, particularly the ones where Srikanth finds himself in a troubled situation, are marred by melodrama. Add to it the overly optimistic tone of a biopic, and we have a film which is revolutionary enough to be considered a landmark in the portrayal of disability in India but not as revolutionary to be held as a gold standard.

Hiranandini’s film deserves appreciation not only because Indian filmmakers, in particular, find it hard to crack this genre but that it makes the audience to feel for the disabled protagonist on a human level, as opposed to painting the usual sorrowful picture.

PS. Watch out for the meta-reference to Rajkummar Rao’s election-themed black comedy Newton (2017) when Srikanth explains Newton’s discovery of gravity as an analogy to argue why blindness wouldn’t have stopped the scientist from postulating the laws of motion.

Srikanth is now playing in theatres.