A Different Kind of Superhero

AFTER THE KASHMIR FILES broke the bank, also some would say Bollywood’s back, much more came to be expected of the talented and courageous husband-wife duo, Vivek Agnihotri- Pallavi Joshi. “The Delhi Files,” even more explosive than The Kashmir Files, would follow, it was announced. Instead, it is The Vaccine War that has been released on September 28. If the film falls into the “over-promise under-deliver” trap, to invert one of the film’s own clever lines, can the audience be blamed? Is it our fault that our expectations were too high?

But let us count the hatched chickens first. The movie’s advance screening in Delhi at PVR Plaza on September 24 was, in itself, an event to remember. Not only because the star of the movie, Nana Patekar, who plays Dr Balram Bhargava, the former head of the Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR), was present. Or the whole set-up, including the who’s who, of the rightwing ecosystem. The show stealer was someone else: Nupur Sharma, the benched and, according to many, unjustly ghosted former ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) spokesperson.

At her first public appearance after the fall, she was accompanied by bodyguards. On being invited to the stage, a visibly moved Sharma praised the film and also chanted “Bharat Mata ki jai” to huge applause. Rahul Roushan, founder-editor of OpIndia, soon posted on X, “Just saw The Vaccine War. Great job by @vivekagnihotri to craft a simple but powerful story on a technical and complex subject matter….” However, the copy he filed the following day was not on the film but on Sharma at the screening.

Swapan Dasgupta, author, politician, and former Rajya Sabha MP posted on X, “@vivekagnihotri has made a very inspirational film that boosts the self-esteem of our scientists & particularly women scientists. It is a must-see for its vivid documentation of the disinformation war launched during the Covid pandemic by the anti-national media.” Shehzad Poonawalla was even more ga-ga, preferring The Vaccine War to The Kashmir Files.

Earlier in Bengaluru, at a special show organised by entrepreneur, investor, and influencer, Mohandas Pai, the star attraction was Sudha Murty, author, educator, and chairperson of Infosys Foundation. Murty said, “It is really heart touching and I do understand the role of a woman because she’s a mother, she’s a wife and she’s also a career person….” She added some benedictory remarks: “The real wealth is in our confidence; please unleash your potential. All Indians be ethical, hardworking, and be proud that you are Indian.”

Who can cavil, far be it quarrel, with all these good people? Let alone diss a film made by personal friends, whose work one has supported in the past? But a film whose very subtitle is “A True Story” might have improved with a little more truth-telling. Otherwise, an ecosystem that has no room for constructive criticism turns into exactly what its detractors accuse it of being—an echo chamber.

In the movie’s climax, which some would dub a tad sanctimonious, a censorious Dr Bhargava sermonises journalists on how they should tell the truth. He then takes down the “anti-national”—or should I say “Urban Naxal”— toolkit gang leader, Rohini Singh Dhulia. The science editor of ‘The Daily Wire’, Dhulia is exposed for peddling fake news and half-truths. The film’s theme, which may be construed as genuine science vs fake narratives, thus, invites attention to the truths that it itself neglects.

To portray a scientific breakthrough in a feature film for mass audiences is daunting. What Agnihotri does is to turn the vaccine war into a superhero movie. Images of superheroes in masks and capes are the giveaway

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For instance, seeing the film, one would never have imagined that there was another major player in India’s vaccine push, Adar Poonawalla. CEO of the Serum Institute, it was Poonawalla who brought the Oxford University and AstraZeneca-developed Covishield vaccine to India. And he did so at considerable financial risk to himself and his company by investing billions of dollars to build capacity even before the vaccine was developed.

Or that more Indians got Covishield shots than ICMR-Bharat Biotech’s Covaxin. The Agnihotri-Joshi family themselves probably received Covishield injections given that the desi Covaxin was not easily available. Poonawalla, Serum Institute, or Covishield are hardly mentioned in the movie. In fact, Bharat Biotech and its founders, Krishna and Suchitra Ella, who own Covaxin and rolled it for mass distribution, are almost erased too.

Instead, the film is entirely focussed on ICMR’s heroics. No problem with that. But in so doing, it succumbs to the easy temptation of turning a scientific project into agitprop. Literalising the “war” metaphor, it converts the director general of ICMR into a real general, with all his scientists as Bharat’s loyal “soldiers.” The result? Science resembles an armed struggle. Or, as one of the lead characters says to Bhargava, “Everything is politics boss, science bhi.” The film endorses rather than counters such a view.

Science is itself construed as a heady mix of sacrifice, sentiment, and “Bharatiyata”. The lady scientists are over-teary, while Bhargava is utterly unfeeling, but only apparently, for he is such a softy inside. Such theatrics, though they might appeal to a section of the audience— after all, Bombay cinema is supposed to be melodramatic— risk trivialising the subject and its challenges.

Scientific achievements are depicted as an outcome of superhuman sacrifices in extraordinary situations, not of steady and systematic research in well-funded and supported institutions. Even 75 years after Independence, Bharat Mata, it would seem, demands balidaan more than competence. Good science only requires patriotic fervour, to the point of self-immolation, not nurturing excellence or rewarding talent. Obedience of authority, rather than scientific acumen, is the highest virtue. “General Bhargava,” too, succeeds as a harsh and efficient technocrat, rather than a scientist. Managing the narrative, managing institutions, managing people—that is all that matters. As long as the result demanded by the leader is delivered.

At a crucial point in the movie, quoting the great leader, Bhargava declares his and his team’s mantra: “Only science can win this war.” Agnihotri omits Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s exhortation to the nation to make a huge din with steel thalis and spoons on a particular night at a particular time. I, too, responded to his call as the head of an institution of national importance. Not because I thought that would kill the virus, but because it would show our resolve together to combat it. Just as Italians lit candles or New Yorkers hooted their car horns. But The Vaccine War, framed as a heroic, nationalistic war of Aatmanirbhar Bharat against hostile forces of the world, invites interpretation more as propaganda than science. The message trumps the medium.

Sadly, today we are not even sure that Covid-19 vaccines really work as claimed. Nowhere does the film question the vaunted efficacy of vaccines as the magic bullet against the pandemic. Certainly, during our deadly Delta wave, neither Covishield nor Covaxin, whose first doses had already been administered, seemed to prevent the thousands of fatalities. The shortage of oxygen that caused most deaths is also attributed to hoarding by opposition parties rather than a genuine lack of capacity or anticipation of the crisis. Also absent from the narrative is the enormous suffering endured by our labouring classes during their excruciating exodus from our cities to their villages hundreds of kilometres away.

Coming to the performances, Patekar, despite all the high-angle shots and flattering lines, looks and sounds more like a police officer than a scientist. Anupam Kher, underplaying himself, has little to do as the unnamed cabinet secretary. Pallavi Joshi and Raima Sen shine as well-matched antagonists. Girija Oak and Nivedita Bhattacharya also deliver credible performances as supporting scientists. The music is too jarring and overdramatic, as if every important idea or dialogue has to be underlined lest the audience miss its meaning.

To be fair, Agnihotri’s task is not easy. To portray a scientific breakthrough in a feature film for mass audiences is a daunting ask. What he does is to turn The Vaccine War into a superhero movie. Science as Shazam! Images of superheroes in masks and capes, not to mention direct references to Thanos vs the Avengers, are the giveaway. But if movies are an art form, Marvel, as Martin Scorsese famously put it, is “not cinema”.

Perhaps, The Vaccine War, with its unidimensional characters and simplistic treatment of good vs evil, right vs wrong, vaccine vs virus, nationalism vs treachery, and science vs falsehood, might have worked better as a children’s movie. Instead, it ends up infantilising the audience. At 2 hours and 40 minutes, it is also a bit too long even for a feel-good, inspirational riff.

So, should you see the movie? Of course. Because it’s different from the usual Bollywood fare and tells a story that Indians need to hear. On a more personal note, Vivek has complained that there is a conspiracy of silence against him, with reviewers paid not to write on The Vaccine War. Perhaps he can take heart from the fact that some of us do take his work seriously.

About The Author

Makarand R Paranjape

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