Dear readers,The intersection of politics and films has always fascinated me. That explains why I spent two decades in political reporting while sneaking in movies—a habit that dates back to my school days when I bunked classes for afternoon shows, long before Netflix or Amazon Prime had colonised our nights.Often, I struggle to recall movie titles the morning after watching them. “Too much of a good thing,” my colleagues chuckle, having long discovered these escapades. The pull is especially strong when the film is the biopic of a politician. The lines blur easily between reel and real when politicians spend their lives cultivating an image.In recent years I’ve watched biopics and semi-biopics of leaders like Indira Gandhi (Indu Sarkar), J. Jayalalithaa (Thalaivii), and Mayawati (Madam Chief Minister). Having covered Mayawati for years—and once interviewing her—I found it difficult to reconcile the real Mayawati with Richa Chadha’s earnest but unconvincing performance in Madam Chief Minister.Kangana Ranaut, who starred in Thalaivii and Emergency, turned in strong performances, yet even she admitted recently that “politics is a tougher job than acting”. Perhaps her brush with these roles made the point clearer than any campaign rally could. Reelism, it seems, can bite as hard as realism.What caught my attention this week was the upcoming release of Ajey: The Untold Story of a Yogi, a biopic on Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Adityanath, born Ajay Singh Bisht in Pauri Garhwal in Uttarakhand. His trajectory—from renunciate monk at Gorakhnath Math to five-term MP to Chief Minister—has few parallels in Indian politics.Opponents have often attacked “Ajay Singh Bisht”, flagging his Thakur background while criticising his government’s handling of, among others, atrocities against Dalits. The film, featuring Anant Joshi as Adityanath and Paresh Rawal as his guru Mahant Avaidyanath, was stuck in limbo after the CBFC (Central Board of Film Certification)demanded 29 cuts, later reduced to 21. The filmmakers challenged this in the Bombay High Court, which cleared the film for release.The movie—based on Shantanu Gupta’s hagiographic book The Monk Who Became Chief Minister—is now scheduled for September 19 after missing its earlier August 1 release date. The production house, Samrat Cinematics, celebrated on Instagram: “The battle was long, but the resolve was iron-clad. Victory is finally ours. #AjeyTheUntoldStoryOfAYogi is now releasing in cinemas on 19th September.”I used to meet Adityanath occasionally during his Lok Sabha years, when he chaired the Joint Committee on MPs’ Salaries and Allowances. I visited his MP bungalow in Delhi, where streams of visitors—more devotees than constituents—queued for blessings. My purpose was less spiritual: to dig out inside news. He was unfailingly polite but maddeningly discreet, answering in monosyllables. I had to rely on other sources to piece together what happened in those committee rooms.Since 2017, when the BJP shocked pollsters by sweeping Uttar Pradesh and Adityanath became Chief Minister, our paths haven’t crossed. His evolution into the so-called “Bulldozer Baba” is a story in itself, and I am curious to see what the biopic adds—or distorts—beyond headlines and internet dossiers.Indian cinema has long mined politics for drama. We’ve seen Gandhi’s life filmed multiple times, Bal Thackeray immortalised by Nawazuddin Siddiqui in Thackeray (2019), Manmohan Singh reduced to bureaucratic shadows in The Accidental Prime Minister, and Narendra Modi lionised in PM Narendra Modi. Ram Gopal Varma’s Sarkar trilogy, though fictionalised, carried Bal Thackeray’s unmistakable imprint. There are many more.Critics complain these portrayals stray too far from reality. But imagination is the filmmaker’s prerogative, and no writer is bound to deliver a 100 per cent documentary record. In political biopics, controversy comes with the territory—because politics in India is inseparable from the hard realities of caste, community, and power.Maybe that’s why the public watches them so keenly: not because they expect truth, but because politics is a theatre where much is hidden even in plain sight. The hug and the handshake might be real, but the person behind them often remains elusive. As a colleague at Frontline told me: “Political biopics are like campaign posters with better lighting”.Write and tell us about a biopic you really liked. Maybe I can catch it too. Meanwhile, I am getting ready to watch the monk-mantri on the big screen.Until the next newsletter.Anand Mishra | Political Editor, FrontlineWe hope you’ve been enjoying our newsletters featuring a selection of articles that we believe will be of interest to a cross-section of our readers. Tell us if you like what you read. And also, what you don’t like! Mail us at frontline@thehindu.co.inCONTRIBUTE YOUR COMMENTS