***spoilers alert***
Following from the precedence set by the hugely successful and brilliant Taare Zameen Par, in 2007, Aamir Khan brings us a second take (and, mind you, not a sequel) of putting the spotlight on mentally differently-abled individuals, in the cleverly named Sitaare Zameen Par.
The film tells the story of a self-absorbed and obnoxious but highly talented basketball coach, Gulshan (Aamir), who, as a community service punishment for drunk driving, is assigned as the coach of the basketball team in an institution for special needs adolescents, tasked with training them to compete in an upcoming national tournament. Like the majority in our society, he is not only oblivious to the reality of people with mental disabilities, but also downright rude and dismissive of them as being ‘not normal’. As he is given no choice but to complete his service period, he goes through the journey from hate to tolerance to loving these youngsters who are not special because of their handicaps, but because of their unique personalities, their intense capacity to love, their unlimited ability to be human, and their unbelievably young and large hearts. As he transforms the team from a dysfunctional bunch of individuals to a high-performing winning basketball team reaching the finals, he goes through his own transformation as a person, realising (as he himself says in the film), ‘it is not he who is coaching them, it is them who are coaching him to be a better person’.
Firstly, the most obvious and important thing. The mission of the film and the fact that it was made deserves the most outstanding applause. Telling the story of dyslexia when perhaps the larger social awareness of any kind of mental disability was non-existent 18 years ago was a monumental feat then. Telling the story of the spectrum of intellectual disabilities with an attempt to not only educate the larger audience but also with an ambition of ‘normalising’ it, again is a brilliant achievement. But it is brilliant not for the same reason as Taare Zameen Par (TZP), and that’s the important difference. There are three key points of difference.
TZP was perhaps the first time this conversation was being had on such a mass scale, bringing it front and centre for many. By contrast, Sitaare Zameen Par (SZP) in 2025 is not a new conversation at all. The positive side of the social media revolution in the last two decades has made the idea of an inclusive society for people with special needs quite common. SZP is impactful because 18 years later it focuses on the ‘say-do’ gap reality of our current times. We all talk of an inclusive society. But we know we are not in our actions. And that’s why while TZP was about building awareness, SZP is about openly challenging and pushing us into walking the talk. That’s why Gulshan’s character (as a representation of the majority) is so in-your-face, and he gets it in his face quite loudly as well.
Secondly, TZP was the story of one person, one child, Ishaan Awasthi (brilliantly portrayed by Darsheel Safary), and while a beautiful story, it was the story of an ‘exception’ amongst people. TZP championed the idea that there are few people who are special and they therefore need a special environment, coaching, inputs. Whereas, SZP tells the story of many people, all who have unique needs, but not as an ‘exception’ to society, but as an integral and natural part of society. In fact, the film stretches the logic to saying everyone of us is unique and has our own quirks and abnormalities in our own special ways. Even the superb decision of casting real-life specially abled actors in the film. The genius byline, that is hammered throughout the film, nails it when it says “Sabka apna apna normal hota hai”.
The third area why TZP and SZP are differently brilliant is the emotions they evoke in the audience. TZP was an outright tear-jerker. We wanted to save Ishaan, protect him, care for him, adopt him, champion him, fight for him, and Aamir as his teacher becomes our agency in the film. It was Ishaan against the world, with Aamir and us fighting for him. SZP, while it has tearful moments, is fundamentally not a cry-athon. Each of the special youngsters is a strong, warm, kick-ass personality that doesn’t evoke sympathy, but a very ‘I get where you’re coming from, let’s resolve this together, shall we’ kind of emotion. Even with Gulshan in the beginning being an asshole with these kids and how he treats them, and then how he grows to relate to them and even the jokes about the challenges and related topics, it is handled with an adult-like maturity and ease. Getting this balance right for a topic of this sensitivity is quite an achievement.
In addition, like any other good film, it’s a very enjoyable and sweetly narrated film. There are several moments in the film that make you laugh, make you cry, make you clap, tug at your heart, tug at your mind, and give you that warm fuzzy feeling of being a parent. The moment when Guddu overcomes his fear of bathing and water through his love for animals (a mouse!). The moment when Aamir discovers his widowed mother has a boyfriend. The moment when Golu overpowers a star player of the opposing team. The many moments when Sunil demonstrates his hypochondriac nature. And so many more.
But of special note is the final climax scene, which, like in any good sports film, is all about the final match that will decide whether they won in the end or not. This serves as the final masterstroke of the film, bringing to life the real meaning of winning in a world that has completely pivoted to an ‘us vs them’ paradigm. What would make “us” truly happy?
However, there is one important thing that does not work in the film. And again, it is an important not-so-good difference vis-à-vis TZP. The main story in TZP was about Ishaan and his journey; Aamir was an enabler. In SZP, however, the main story is about Gulshan and his journey. And even though each of the special kids is in every scene of the story, they don’t remain as the central plot. We miss the journey that Guddu, Sunil, Golu, Lotus, Sharmaji, Har Govind, and others have or could have had. Given the need for telling Gulshan’s transformation story (even though admittedly as a metaphor for the desired transformation of our society), each of the other characters ends up becoming at best a prop or a canvas in the background. And we can tell that this is not an error of omission but deliberately written this way, seen by comparing the main poster for TZP vs. SZP. In TZP, Ishaan is front and centre (with Aamir as a support). In SZP, it’s all Aamir! Gulshan’s backstory and the reason for his selfish, narrow-minded perspective are also very weak, superficially (and almost irritatingly) depicted through his weirdly-troubled-but not-so-much relationship with his estranged (or is she?) wife, Sunita (badly played by Genelia). Given the importance of Gulshan to the overall impact of the film, this is a really big miss in the film.
This is the one reason why SZP overall ends up being less impactful than TZP was and continues to be.
All said and done, it’s a movie that must be watched and felt through. Especially during a time when Bollywood big cinema is struggling and it’s harder to get audiences into theatres (unlike 2007 when TZP was released), telling a socially important story like this is really commendable.
