Lagaan To Panipat: Ashutosh Gowariker, The Auteur Who Couldn’t Be

François Truffaut, the firebrand of French cinema and one of the key architects of the auteur theory, believed that filmmakers reveal their personal vision across a body of work. In his influential 1954 essay A Certain Tendency of French Cinema, Truffaut argued that filmmakers should consider themselves true auteurs of their work and that they should imprint their thematic and stylistic signatures onto each film, evolving with every project. Ashutosh Gowariker, by that measure, is a strange case study.

If the auteur is supposed to sharpen with each creation, Gowariker failed spectacularly on that front. Over the years, he has steadily dulled his edge. Currently, there's barely an arrow left in his quiver. His career, once promising enough to be placed alongside modern Hindi cinema’s most ambitious names, now reads like a cautionary tale in creative collapse. From Lagaan to Panipat, Gowariker has regressed, and woefully at that.

Gowariker’s debut as director came with Pehla Nasha (1993), a noir-ish thriller that bombed at the box office and earned little love from critics. His next, Baazi (1995) was a patchy action film that tried too hard to be slick and Hollywood-esque, but ultimately failed to make a mark. These early films were, at best, forgettable. And Gowariker seemed destined for mediocrity. But then came Lagaan (2001).

Set in colonial India, Lagaan wove cricket, caste, and nationalism into a rousing epic that became a national phenomenon and even secured an Oscar nomination. But Lagaan wasn’t free from controversy—for him, at least. Whispers within the industry suggested that Aamir Khan, the film's producer and lead actor, had a heavy hand in its directorial vision. Many have speculated if Gowariker had truly directed the film at all. Some still believe he simply executed Khan’s vision with obedience.

He did get to prove his competence with films like Swades (2004) and Jodhaa Akbar (2008) —but this wave was not to last.

Instead of using Swades as a creative springboard, Gowariker spiralled. Jodhaa Akbar was visually rich but What’s Your Raashee? (2009) was a chaotic misfire with Priyanka Chopra playing 12 characters who could not elevate a messy script. Mohenjo Daro (2016) was a historical farce with laughable costumes, erratic pacing, and a storyline that treated ancient civilisation like a rejected episode of Chandrakanta. The film began with the hero fighting giant crocodiles for Pete’s sake!

And Panipat (2019)—Gowariker’s most recent theatrical release—was a lifeless historical drama that turned the battle of Panipat into an overlong, jingoistic slog, complete with cringe-worthy performances and questionable politics.

In 2025, Gowariker is back in the news. This time it is not for a film but for his role on the National Film Awards jury, where he is currently serving as the chairperson. This year a divisive and mediocre film like The Kerala Story (2023) won the Best Direction award. Many critics and cinephiles have slammed this decision as blatantly ideological and deeply irresponsible.

While there’s some celebration over Shah Rukh Khan finally winning Best Actor (for Atlee’s 2023 film Jawan), the moment is tinged with irony. For one, Khan had far more deserving turns in Swades and Chak De! India (2007), and both times he was snubbed.

In fact, Gowariker directed Swades, one of Khan’s most restrained and luminous performances. That year, the Best Actor award went to Saif Ali Khan for Hum Tum (2004)—Sharmila Tagore was accused of influencing the jury's decision to give the award to her son. Even in 2007, SRK’s iconic turn as coach Kabir Khan in Chak De! lost out to Southern superstar Prakash Raj for Kanchivaram. So, one can’t help but wonder: in awarding Khan this year, was Gowariker correcting an old wrong—perhaps his own snubbed legacy wrapped in Khan’s overdue recognition—or was he covering some other dishonourable decisions?

Ideologically, Gowariker seems to have taken a sharp right turn since the days of Swades and Jodhaa Akbar. The man who once gave us a deeply secular, Gandhian film like Swades is now lending credibility to films like The Kerala Story—a film that stokes Islamophobia and distorts fact in favour of propaganda. The makers of The Kerala Story were forced to admit in court that their claim of "32,000 Hindu women" being converted and recruited by ISIS was unfounded, acknowledging that the number was exaggerated and not backed by verified data.

Once a filmmaker of enormous potential, Gowariker’s name is now associated with creative irrelevance and political alignment with the oppressive status quo. His career proves that not every filmmaker matures like an auteur. Some—perhaps many—burn out, grow complacent, or worse, become mouthpieces for power. Truffaut believed the filmmaker reveals himself more honestly with every film. Maybe Gowariker has done exactly that. It’s just that the picture isn’t very pretty.

If Gowariker’s films once believed in unity and rationality, this recent endorsement reflects paranoia and polarisation. His name being attached to this year’s National Awards has also reignited criticism of the institution itself.

Over the years, the National Awards have made several questionable choices. Akshay Kumar—who has proven to be in cahoots with the current regime in India—winning Best Actor in 2017 for Rustom was widely ridiculed. This was the year Dangal and Udta Punjab were also up for contention. Later, Kangana Ranaut’s (also a BJP member and Member of Parliament, Lok Sabha) win for Manikarnika and Panga, sparked accusations of bias and political favour. This year’s award to The Kerala Story continues a trend that seems to have reached a worrying crescendo.