Sitaare Zameen Par

बॉस्केट बॉल टीम का फ्रस्टेटिड जूनियर कोच शराब पीकर गाड़ी चलाते हुए पुलिस की गाड़ी को ठोक देता है। अदालत उसे सज़ा सुनाती है कि वह बौद्धिक रूप से अक्षम लोगों की एक बॉस्केट बॉल टीम को तीन महीने तक प्रशिक्षित करेगा। कोच भरी अदालत में पूछ बैठता है-तीन महीने तक पागलों को सिखाऊंगा मैं…? सिखाने जाता है तो वह पूछता है-मैं टीम कैसे बनाऊं, टीम तो नॉर्मल लोगों की बनती है न…? इतनी कहानी तो आपको इस फिल्म का ट्रेलर भी बता देता है। ट्रेलर तो यह भी बताता है कि इन ‘पागलों’ को कोचिंग देते हुए यह कोच अपने बाल नोच रहा है। लेकिन ट्रेलर से आगे बढ़ कर यह फिल्म दिखाती है कि ज़माना जिन्हें ‘नॉर्मल’ तक नहीं मानता वे लोग न सिर्फ हमसे कहीं ज़्यादा नॉर्मल हैं बल्कि कुछ मायने में तो बेहतर भी हैं। फिल्म यह भी बताती है कि हर किसी का अपना-अपना नॉर्मल होता है, हमें उसे पहचानने और स्वीकारने को राज़ी होना चाहिए।

Sitaare Zameen Par is also refreshing in terms of how a Bollywood superstar — an almost deified being for most of our audiences — isn’t afraid to poke fun at himself. Aamir’s height (or rather, the lack of it) is mined for laughs, and there is also a reference to his age. The man has always led the way, and with Sitaare Zameen Par, he gives us the vintage Aamir that we have always loved watching. Honest, emotional, fun and meaningful. There isn’t anything in Sitaare Zameen Par, however, that we hadn’t seen in its trailer. Aamir plays Gulshan Arora, the assistant coach of the Delhi basketball team, who after a physical altercation with his boss and a run-in with cops, is sent to do community service for three months. That means heading to the city’s Sarvodaya Centre to train a bunch of neurodivergent players for an upcoming tournament. While most of us tend to group those with physical or mental disabilities under a generic umbrella, this film presents them as people with individual quirks and personalities who operate within their ‘own normal’.

Sometimes, what a story says is more important than how flawlessly it is narrated. Director RS Prasanna and writer Divy Nidhi Sharma’s Indianisation of the Spanish film Champions (2007) exemplifies the significance of what a film ultimately delivers. Swag and insolence combine to have assistant basketball coach Gulshan Arora (Aamir Khan) suspended while reckless, drunken driving has him hauled up before a judge. He gets three months of community service as punishment, as basketball coach to a team of intellectually challenged people. “And ready them for a national championship,” adds Kartar Singh (Gurpal Singh), the man in charge of the association where Gulshan has to report as coach. His initial dismissal of the special people as ‘pagal’ which has the judge raising his fine every time he utters the word, sets the tone for comedy that tickles the funny bone and unmissable messages that reach the heart.

Aamir Khan is back with his trademark, quintessential feel-good movie. Over the years, the actor has carved out a niche in Indian cinema for making entertaining films that convey important social messages. In the past few years, as the actor tried to experiment in typical commercial fare, the set image dwindled. In 2025, he seems to be back in his comfort zone, playing a reluctant hero in Sitaare Zameen Par, where he typically takes a backseat and lets others shine. Of course, the superstar’s presence looms large on this one, but Sitaare Zameen Par works because of its messaging and the way it is delivered. Helmed by RS Prasanna, who had directed the delightful and effective Shubh Mangal Savdhan earlier, Sitaare Zameen Par is the classic underdog story. On many occasions, the film feels cliche and predictable, but it is the bunch of new actors, all neurodivergent, that uplifts this regular story.

The nostalgia of Aamir Khan is hard to resist. He’s a one-man publicity machine. He resists streaming models. He bats for the theatrical experience. He is open about his failures and flaws. In an age of jingoistic fervour, bloated superstar spectacles and franchise cashgrabs, he produces and acts in a modest sports dramedy about a wayward basketball coach training a team of neurodivergent players (played, for once, by neurodivergent performers) for a national tournament. There’s no meta hero-entry shot; it’s just his character, Gulshan, matter-of-factly parking his car outside a stadium. He plays an unlikable man who isn’t afraid to look ordinary. In an industry ripe with hypermasculinity and vanity, he pokes fun at his own height and physicality — Gulshan is trolled as a “tingu” (shorty), even by his mom. He leads an old-fashioned remake full of newcomers and youngsters. And he’s an underdog after being ahead of the curve for years.