Does Bollywood need to revisit its approach towards biopics?

Examining the hits, the misses, and the moral dilemmas associated with the popular Bollywood genre

Think biopics in Bollywood and the list is exhaustive. What started in the 1980s and ’90s as an exploration and experimentation of the sub-genre of the narrative biographical film such as Shyam Benegal’s The Making of The Mahatma (1996) and Shekhar Kapur’s Bandit Queen (1994)— biopics were few and far between, until they weren’t. The turn of the 20th century witnessed the steadily growing trend of biopics in Bollywood with films such as Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose: The Forgotten Hero (2004), Mangal Pandey: The Rising (2005), and The Legend of Bhagat Singh (2002) among many others. It was in 2013, however, with Rakeysh Om Prakash Mehra’s Bhaag Milkha Bhaag, that the trend grew manifold. If box office numbers mean anything, many biopics made during this decade, from Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (Rs 163 crores) and M.S Dhoni: The Untold Story (Rs 189 crores) to Dangal (Rs 702 crores), and Sanju (Rs 578 crores) have broken records, enlisted themselves at the helm of chart toppers, and also received critical acclaim. 

There’s no denying the adoration among audiences—and a sense of relatability too—to watch the dramatised and sometimes fictionalised version of real people and their lives on the big screen, from politicians to sportspeople. In recent times, however, the moral responsibility that comes with portraying real-life incidents, the whitewashing of its people, and the idea of heroism appears to drive several of these films. 

More biopics, fewer hits? 

The success of most biopics released in the last decade can be attributed to a number of reasons—from following a template to make these films to the manner of storytelling. While M.S. Dhoni did wonders at the box office, one of its criticisms was the lack of insight into the person Dhoni was, as film critic Anupama Chopra wrote in a review for Film Companion.  

“When I made Aligarh (2015),” recalls filmmaker Hansal Mehta, “It was a biopic of a professor who was ostracised for his sexual preferences. But it was the story of his final winter, the last three months of his life. What often happens in the making of a biopic is that there's a series of anecdotes and highlights. That is a PowerPoint presentation; that is not cinema.” Actor Pratik Gandhi, who played the titular character in the series Scam 1992: The Harshad Mehta Story (2020), shares, “Biopics don’t work sometimes because as storytellers, if you get bogged down with the incidents instead of the character, your whole focus knowingly or unknowingly becomes about [the] plot. You’re taking me away from human emotions. A biopic is not about what someone’s life is about, it’s about how they lived.”

Biopics on sportspersons and political figures form a large chunk of the genre today– and that’s a part of the problem. “I don't see biopics as a genre,” says Mehta. “Biopics are basically stories…biopics are not a genre, they’re stories that inspire you. I think we jump at formulas very fast. Biopics don’t have formulas.” An article in The Swaddle emphasises that many of the biopics today— whether it’s Bhaag Milkha Bhaag, Mary Kom, or Saina— have a predictable, humble-origin story marked with all kinds of challenges that overcome and culminate in a victory for the nation. 

 “There are multiple reasons why a biopic doesn’t do well. Firstly, it may not be compelling enough. However, I think that there is a saturation of sports biopics— the underdog stories. They all have a certain template,” says screenwriter Saurav Dey. “One of the latest in the series of sports biopics was Kabir Khan’s Chandu Champion [2024], which followed the story of boxer Murlikant Petkar. While the film received mixed reactions, the primary criticism remained the same. In a review for the New Indian Express, Kartik Bhardwaj writes, “I am tired of Hindi sports films being inspirational biopics or closeted patriotic calls. The real-life story behind the film, however, provided enough fodder for the telling of a more interior tale.”

This is not to say no biopic has been successful or received widespread appreciation in the recent past. Films such as Srikanth (2024) and 12th Fail (2023) have lent a much-needed insight into contemporary societal issues, the politics at play, and an ending that is as real as it is hopeful.

Portraying the vices and virtues of characters

Biopics, as a genre, has, for a long time, been mired in challenges and controversies. A significant criticism has been the often one-sided portrayal of characters and a little to complete neglect of their flaws. Take for instance the Raju Hirani-directed Sanju (2018)–that albeit conveniently still, highlights both the vices and virtues of actor Sanjay Dutt. A review in Firstpost states how the objective of the film is two-fold: “to project Dutt as a misguided but well-intentioned man and all-round nice guy, and to scapegoat others for his failings.” Similarly, The Hindu offered in its review a criticism for the film Swatantrya Veer Savarkar (2024) as an attempt to exalt the man that he was. 

Similarly, films such as Sam Bahadur (2023) and M.S. Dhoni, were criticised for their lack of depth in the characters they portrayed by showing only their virtuous sides. Film critic Aditya Shrikrishna says, “MS Dhoni: The Untold Story is pretty much everything good about Dhoni and doesn't even cover Chennai Super Kings or the scandal that rocked the club leading to its three-year ban. But as a film itself, it works wonderfully in presenting Dhoni the person.”  

This then begs the question—is it the moral responsibility of filmmakers or writers to portray both sides of the protagonist? It appears to be a grey area. “As a filmmaker, you tell it the way you see it, based on your perspective—you can’t tell a story without a perspective. It’s also about how honest you are to the person's flaws…every human being is flawed. I'm doing a show on Mahatma Gandhi and exploring him as a human and humanising him for myself and for the audience. Every filmmaker chooses to do it differently,” says Mehta.

Meanwhile, for writers, it’s slightly different. Screenwriter Sumit Arora feels that bringing out both sides of a character is important to the film itself. “I think the bad side will give you drama. It is our flaws, it is our weaknesses, it is our impatience, which creates drama, romantic moments, and conflicts in our lives. So it is important to touch upon those.” For Dey, rooting for the protagonist is important and so there must be a balance in how you portray either side. “Rooting doesn’t mean you have to support the protagonist, but it does mean that you’ll be engaged in the story. For this, you also have to like the person to an extent. And it works both ways. For instance, while we were writing Harshad Mehta, we made a conscious decision to stay away from the Westernised Wall-Street stereotype. Based on our conversations with those who knew him, Harshad Mehta was a family man, a non-drinker, and a vegetarian. His ambition and pride made him skirt the law, leading to his downfall.” 

Harshit Bansal, a film critic and founder of Humans of Cinema, believes it is the responsibility of the filmmakers to portray the good, the bad, and everything in between. “Srikanth and Chamkila are excellent examples of films that try to portray greyer shades of their subjects. I don't hold the filmmakers accountable if they're not able to do this, because the biopics often get made only with the cooperation and permissions from the subject or their family, and they want to be shown only in a positive light. This is a big roadblock for biopics in India, the law does not favour filmmakers here the way that it does in the United States, where you can have films like Pirates Of Silicon Valley or The Social Network.”

Actor Pratik Gandhi sums it up fittingly: “Ideally, yes, it is the responsibility of the filmmakers or writers. You can’t judge your character; then you’re not leaving space for the audiences to judge or to realise the whole story. If I decide that somebody is a hero in my mind, and then I portray it, it gets biased...If the intention is to whitewash a character then you can’t help it—then for that intention, it’s a good film. But if you’re looking for a wholesome biopic, from that lens, it’s half-told. It is a moral standing you take. The ‘why’ of the film should be clear and everyone involved should know it.”

Choosing a hero for a country that worships them 

India loves to worship its heroes. Cinema and its audiences have promulgated a cycle of hero-worshipping through a now-frequent run-of-the-mill storytelling that needs to be broken.There is a need for a hero that offers an escape from the struggles of the daily life of an average Indian yet appears to be entirely relatable to them. 

However, it appears there is no rigid criteria when it comes to selecting a life story for a film. It is a story, after all. “A film cannot be a Wikipedia page of a person. It has to have narrative layers that go beyond [mere] information and themes which are beyond the life that has been lived by that person, themes which can resonate with everybody,” says Arora. “I don't think there should be any criteria. It's always about the author/filmmaker's engagement with the real-life person. How do they treat them? How do they treat the material?” adds Shrikrishna.

Does political climate matter?

Bollywood films such as Thakeray (2019), Uri: The Surgical Strike (2019), or more recently, Swatantrya Veer Savarkar (2024), Article 370 (2024), Kashmir Files (2022), Kerala Story (2023), and Main Atal Hoon (2024) unsurprisingly released at the heel of state or general elections in India and were laden with nationalistic fervour. While it may be wise to brush these off as coincidences, it is highly unlikely that they are. Simply put, the making of a biopic is often closely associated with the political climate of the country. 

These films not only propelled hand-picked political agenda but are hagiographic in nature. They attempt to glorify the lives of political figures, army personnel, and sportspeople, labelling them as ‘patriotic’ or ‘selfless heroes’. The opening lines of a review of the Yami Gautam-sarrer Article 370 in The Hindu reads, “Released in an election year, Aditya Suhas Jambhale’s film milks historical events according to the political narrative set by the ruling dispensation.” Films such as Main Hoon Atal and Savarkar’s biopic were replete with convenient eliminations of certain real-life events. 

Dey argues that while it is alright to draw on a patriotic fervour when it comes to certain biopics, extreme jingoism and authoritarianism in nationalism must be avoided. “The political climate matters, to an extent. Film industries worldwide have functioned as propaganda machines of the state. So, it matters, at least, to ask why a biopic on an army man, a politician, or a major historical figure is made when a right-wing government is in power in India, though it might not be out of the ordinary.

Furthermore, the political climate becomes apparent during the release of films that are considered  anti-establishment or those that do not sit well with those in power. These circumstances often directly impact the success of such films. The Deepika Padukone-starrer Chhapaak (2020), a biopic on acid-attack victim Laxmi Agarwal, was boycotted because of the actor’s visit to the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) in Delhi during a protest that year. Most recently, Maharaj (2024) was embroiled in controversy for its portrayal of a powerful religious leader, even receiving a stay order from the Gujarat High Court for the same. It was eventually greenlit, following another hearing, and released on Netflix. 

To what extent should biopics be dramatised?

Do the rules of fiction apply to the cinematic presentation of someone’s life? This, too, is a grey area. “Any film is a work of fiction to a certain extent. We do take liberties to dramatise things to make it more engaging,” says Dey. “For instance, while writing Harshad Mehta, we knew what happened but the way he spoke or what he spoke were details we had to imagine in that setting, based upon what we knew of the character. The fundamental facts of the story have to be in place; you cannot change them. Beyond that, things that aren’t known, can well be reimagined.”

Mehta, however, warns that it is important to remain faithful to the sources and the material revolving around the character is being played. “As a filmmaker, you have to be faithful to your screenplay and the character you have created. Storytelling itself is the responsibility of engaging the audience by conveying the character as a whole,” he says. 

It has been made abundantly clear that as a genre, biopics enable the telling of stories unheard and themes untapped—an audience favourite. What is then perhaps needed is to steer away from predictable formulas. Arora succinctly explains, “It’s about the right kind of biopic. It's about finding the right time and tone for the biopic. I don't think we are overdoing it, but we may be just doing it in a very basic manner. So, the more we do, the more we will falter, and the more we will learn.” 

“I don’t know,” contemplates Gandhi. “If the story or human life is compelling enough for you to narrate it, you must make the film. India has so many stories. Forget good or bad, just so many interesting lives. Even if a person is ‘bad’, their story can inspire people to do the right thing.” 

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