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Wednesday, December 5, 2018

Rang De Basanti

Rang de Basanti (2006), which linked India's past struggle against British colonialism to India's present struggle against corruption, attracted global attention, sparked protests, and created a moment of social engagement among young people referred to as the Rang de Basanti effect.

But after my first viewing, I didn’t see the appeal of a time-jumping melodrama that didn't star David Tennant. As an American on my couch during the Obama Administration I was much more interested in looking forward. Things were getting better, obviously- why look to the past?  Then election day 2016 rolled around, so I watched Rang de Basanti again, figuring I would suddenly see this film for the inspiring political drama it was received as in India back in 2006. Spoiler alert: I didn't.

Cherry Blossoms at the U.S.Capitol
Capitol Dome and Cherry Blossoms
Rang de Basanti opens to a tinted film reel, seemingly yellowed with age, in which various young men are performing their morning rituals inside their jail cells. Within moments it become apparent that they are preparing for their own imminent deaths at the hands of the colonial government. The British officer (Steven Mackintosh) assigned to oversee their execution expresses, in voice-over, his sadness that these brave young are going to be hanged, but the youths remain defiant. And then they are killed.

Flash forward to London, 2006, where Sue (Alice Patten) is seeking to make a documentary about the freedom fighters, whose story she reads in the diary of her grandfather, coincidentally the officer who oversaw the executions. Sue is blindsided when two executives tell her the project has been cut because the story won't sell. Sue storms out, demonstrates her appallingly accented Hindi (which will plague the viewer for the remainder of the film) and moves to India to make the documentary on her own.



In India she meets a group of disaffected young men through her colleague Sonia (Soha Ali Khan), whom she recruits to act in her documentary, which is turning out to be more of a docudrama. Represented are members of many of India's largest communities- Muslim Aslam Khan (Kunal Kapoor), Hindu Sukhi (Sharman Joshi), a roguish Sikh (Aamir Khan), as well as Hindu fundamentalist Laxman Pandey (Atul Kulkarni), Karan R. Singhania (Siddharth), Sonia's fighter pilot fiance Ajay Singh Rathod (R. Madhavan), and Ajay's mother Mrs. Rathod, who is portrayed by the elegant Waheeda Rehman in a rare and affecting break from retirement.

When Ajay is killed as the result of faulty plane parts- corruption kills- the team protests Ajay's death and the deaths of other fighter pilots who died under similar circumstances. The protest turns bloody when the police arrive, and the friends are spurred to taking direct action, inspired by their freedom-fighter characters in the documentary. The film weaves the lives of the past and present-day patriots together with near-perfect symmetry.

When I first watched this film I believed that the past is never reflected in the present with the symmetry Rang de Basanti suggests. But on June 26, 2018 the the Supreme Court of the United States rejected the 1944 Korematsu v. United States decision on Executive Order 9066, which justified the internment of  Japanese-American men, women, and children with the help of the U.S. Census bureau- in the decision to uphold Executive Order 9645 in Trump v. HawaiiAn injustice of the past passed the torch to an injustice of today, as corruption kills Ajay in Rang de Basanti as surely as the Raj killed young men in colonial India. Clearly the past repeats itself with minimal variation to the theme, and with a large dose of irony: the cherry blossoms that light up my morning commute every spring were from the 1912 gift of 3,000 cherry trees from Mayor Yukio Ozaki of Tokyo to the city of Washington, DC. Those same cherry trees now decorate the memorial to interred Japanese-Americans. Ajay is killed by the government elected by his countrymen just as surely as if he had been killed by a foreign power, but now his government calls it freedom.

In this symmetry the odd character out is Sue, who is annoying in the way that all white women in Bollywood films are annoying. I have never, ever understood the need to include Sue in this film- her role could have just as easily been assigned to a South Asian woman who found an old diary. For a patriotic film, it sure seems to have a white-savior complex. And Rang de Basanti is a spectacularly patriotic film- and it manages to be patriotic without being jingoistic, which is something neither the current nationalist, Islamophobic, xenophobic leaders of the U.S. nor India understand or appreciate.

No Ban SCOTUS BMore March
No Ban SCOTUS Baltimore Rally
The challenge is that the patriotism of the film, in both the contemporary and black-and-white scenes, elides the complications of history. The progressive movement in the U.S. has frequently struggled to link past struggles to the present day, and I suspect the exclusionary and incomplete nature of prior progressive movements lies at the root of the left's disconnect from history- issues that Rang de Basanti glosses over with a few words and touching scenes. Complications do not lend themselves to rousing musical montages, and Rang de Basanti is more than willing to gloss over historical differences and tie everything up neatly with a bow- quickly- and call it patriotism. 

The thing is, it works. The final scenes, which inter-cut the freedom fighters past and present, make it clear that the fight is the same, that the evil they face is similarly clear-cut, all deaths for country are equally worthy, and everyone is equally invested in a single outcome- a better version of contemporary India- history be damned. It makes for rousing viewing, and it is this straightforward call to action that spurred the activists so inspired by this film. 

And so a film which argues that the ends justify the means works both on the level of story and on the level of history. Is is worth spurring people to progressive action by glossing over difficult history? Is it sustainable? What ends justify what means, and who benefits from the outcome? Rang de Basanti takes the answers as foregone, simple, sunny conclusions.   
  
Is Rang de Basanti cynical or naive? Debatable. Is it over the top? Oh yes. Is it far too clean and clear-cut to reflect the messiness of social change? You better believe it. Does it do a service to the people who are fighting for an equality that wont come about over the course of a single conversation? Nope. I still dont think its a particularly good film. But it is a far more interesting film than I believed it to be on first viewing.

Film: Rang de Basanti (2006)
Director: Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra
Writers: Prasoon Joshi, Rensil D'Silva
Runtime: 157 minutes
Country: India
Language: Hindi, Punjabi, English

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Bandini

women sitting in the jail yard in shadow
Women in the Jail 
Before there was Orange is the New Black there was Bandini (1963), a graceful film about a rural woman's experience of captivity under the Raj. The film works on multiple levels- Kalyani (a radiant Nutan) is imprisoned by her guilt, by her beauty, by the Raj and the walls of her physical jail, by the men who seek to trap her with obligation and sexual blackmail, and by the cruelty of gossips of both genders who judge and reject her. In Bandini, everyone is in prison of one sort or another, thickening the irony of the guard yelling "sub thiek hai" (everything is fine) - and making  Kalyani's choices, which echo the self-sacrifice of the freedom fighters- all the more powerful.


Although women were key to various anti-British and independence movements throughout South Asia, Bandini was the first film to show the contributions and experiences of rural women specifically. The medium fits the message: director Bhimal Roy's Bandini is a beautiful example of neorealism in film, a global conversation in style and substance which found particular resonance after WWII. Although there are a lot of definitions of neorealist films, visually they generally favor on-location shooting and natural light like a newsreel or documentary; and thematically favor stories of the lowest segments of society, have a progressive message, and withhold moral judgments. The most famous example of neorealism in film is Bicycle Thieves (1948) directed by Vittorio De Sica.




Bandini uses the repetition of patterns and scenes to great effect. The vertical strips of Kalyani's sari mirror the prison bars which define nearly every scene in the jail. Not only the prisoners are framed with these bars- the gossips, the warden, the woman watching her son be hanged- everyone's lives are defined by visual reminders of divisions and limitations. The prison doctor Devendra, played by a very young Dharmendra, fails to acknowledge the prisons surrounding Kalyani; in contrast, freedom fighter Bikash Ghosh (Ashok Kumar) himself spends most of the film in prison for his political activities. Devendra loves Kalyani in spite of her past- but her first love Bikash is uniquely suited to appreciate where Kalyani is coming from. 

screen grabs from Bandini featuring the bars of the jail
Repetition of Prison Bars
This makes the songs of the women in jail all the more poignant, and the scenes at the end, in which Kalyani is free to make her own choices, all the more powerful. "O Re Maaji Mere Saaj", sung by S.D. Burman, is a haunting song which shows Kalyani's struggle against her various obligations and her ultimate decision between two men, two futures, and the uncertain cause of independence and a quiet domestic life. *Song contains spoilers.*


For further viewing, Bicycle Thieves famously influenced filmmakers as diverse as Satyajit Ray (1921-1992), Anurag Kashyap, and Aziz Ansari, whose homage in Master of None introduced a new generation to the classic. For viewers interested in another variation of the theme, Gerhard Klein's Berlin – Ecke Schönhauser… (1957) is a fascinating East German neorealist classic filmed in Berlin before the construction of the Wall. Bandini can be viewed in its entirety on the Shemaroo youtube channel.

Film: Bandini (1963)
Director: Bimal Roy
Writers: Nabendu Ghosh and Paul Mahendra
Run time: 157 minutes
Country: India
Language: Hindi
Based on the story “Tamasi” by Charu Chandra Chakrabarti 

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Gumnaam




Sometimes the trailer says it all: "A Terrible Study in Suspense!" It may well have been one of India's first suspense thrillers, but the effort of combining "A Smile and a Thrill" and "A Laugh and a Chill" was clearly more than the story could bear. It is a musical comedy horror noir, with an abusive relationship, some slut-shaming, some blatant racism, and a Hitler joke. I love Agatha Christie. I love Hindi-language cinema. I should have loved Gumnaam (1965)! I did not. It was as weird as the day is long, and offensive to boot.

I can't say I was surprised by the weird factor- I found the film via Ghost World (2001) (or rather, an article about Ghost World cross-referenced to Bollywood and American cinema); "Jaan Phechan Ho", sung by the inimitable Mohammed Rafi, is included in the film. "Jaan Phechan Ho" has since become a favorite among South Asian Studies students- it is an interesting cross-over point between Hollywood and Bollywood film, as well as fantastic fun. In Ghost World, "Jaan Phechan Ho" is used to illustrate the alienation of the main characters, who watch “Jaan Phechan Ho” and dance along, completely unable to decipher what is going on but fascinated by the strangeness of it all. Unfortunately, I feel that way about the music throughout the entire film. The song-and-dance routines are alienating. This is a film based on Christie’s And Then There Were None, so by the end everyone is dead. And there is still singing, dancing, and romance on beaches. Ironically given its role in Ghost World, “Jaan Phechan Ho” is better integrated into the plot than any of the other songs, and the title song, which is meant to be creepy, is arguably the most melodic and least disturbing song on the soundtrack.

Interestingly, this is the first film I have reviewed which included a vamp, one of the highly sexualized item-number girls of 1960s, 1970s, and early 1980s Hindi cinema. Gumnaam's vamp Kitty is portrayed by Helen, one of Hindi cinema's most famous vamps- for good reason. She was tremendously talented.



Short for vampire, vamps were the sultry, liminal, Westernized, doomed objects of desire in Hindi cinema before economic liberalization changed tastes and expectations in the 1990s. Vamps, denizens of dance halls, bars, cabarets, and bedrooms, were the only female characters allowed to drink, smoke, flirt, dance provocatively, rendezvous, work outside the home, laugh with their mouths open, make passes, and talk back. Indeed, these behaviors marked vamps as vamps. Whereas heroines were worthy of heart-breaking adoration or marrying in the end, vamps were for sewing wild oats.

When heroines crossed the line into vamp-like behavior, as Asha (Nanda) does when she drinks with Kitty (Helen)- the hero usually reacted with disgust and violence. In our case, our hero Anand (Manoj Kumar), himself a police inspector, physically assaults the woman he claims to love because she responds to the stress of six murders and threats to her own life by having a drink with a girlfriend. And not only does he remain the hero, the two end up together. Kitty's ending is even more gruesome. 

The lines which divide the roles of Virgin and Magdelene in Hindi cinema have been blurred over the past twenty years, although this has reflected not so much the lessening as the convolution and change of social expectations of women and their sexuality. When Heer in Rockstar (2011) goes drinking, dancing, and to a blue film in Delhi before her wedding- everything she wants to do before she marries and becomes a good Indian wife- she is acting out the dual role of vamp and heroine. Heer is no longer exclusively virtuous or exclusively provocative, exclusively domestic or exclusively undomesticated. Rather, Heer must balance being fun (but not too much fun), provocative (but not too provocative), being wild (but not for long). Although Heer is a more fully-realized character than many of the vamps who came before her, she is nevertheless pushed and pulled by male ideas about a desirable woman- fun (but not too much fun), provocative (but not too provocative), wild (but not for long). Whereas two female bodies were once called upon to personify male fantasies, today's heroines are required to navigate the push of domesticity and pull of sexuality and embody everyone's fantasies simultaneously.

Every vamp's fun came at a price: vamps tended to die in red bridal saris before ever becoming good Hindu brides. This is true in both Dewaar (1975) and The Dirty Picture (2011), so clearly the trope has sticking power. Their bridal saris symbolize the desire for Indian domesticity (because after all, what else could a woman want but marriage?), but vamps are all ultimately doomed by their sins, their wishes (?) unfulfilled and dreams of happiness thwarted by their expressions of sexuality. True to trope, Kitty becomes engaged and is then murdered. She happens to have been murdered in a bathing costume so that her bare, dead legs can be ogled to full effect.

For further reading about vamps, and Bollywood more broadly, please see the fascinating: "From Villain to Traditional Housewife!: The Politics of Globalization and Women's Sexuality in the 'New' Indian Media" by Padma P. Govindan and Bisakha Dutta  in Global Bollywood, edited by Anandam P. Kavoori and Aswin Punathambekar, 180-202. New York: New York University Press, 2008.

Film: Gumnaam (1965)
Director: Raja Nawathe
Writer: Dhruva Chatterjee
Country: India
Runtime: 151 minutes
Language: Hindi

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi


Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (2008): the smiling face of misogyny. In addition to the overt misogyny of “grab ‘em by the pussy," it is important to call out the times and places women are kept “in their place” “for their own good” in insidious, smiling, subtle ways. Sexism also looks like the widespread surprise that Teen Vogue attacked Trump’s gaslighting, jokes that Meliana Trump is an abused wife, and the wikipedia gender gap.

Which brings us to RNBDJ, a film about a bereaved woman being emotionally manipulated by her dying father into marrying a stranger- who then deceives and manipulates his young wife for the entire film. Because both father and husband “love her”. Not to be confused with trusting her to be able to survive and thrive without a man taking care of her. Freedom from self-determination.
Now we walk along the same street, in red pairs, and no man shouts obscenities at us, speaks to us, touches us. No one whistles. 
There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia. Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of  anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from. Don't underrate it.
-Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale (1985) 


Now- the theme of performance is a fascinating one, particularly in the context of a relationship. How long can a person maintain a facade, what does it mean to perform gender or love, and if it is ultimately possible to stop performing. RNBDJ also features wonderful music, great performances, and charming chemistry. Shah Rukh Khan reminds all of it why he is a star- he is funny and moving by turns, and steals every single scene he is in.

But none of that can overcome the power imbalance between Taani (Anushka Sharma) and her husband Suri (SRK)There is a chilling scene in which Taani asks Suri for money to take a dance class. The scene makes me cringe- it has been a long time since I asked anyone for money, and I didnt like it then any more than I would now; but I remember my grandmother telling me about getting her first check book and credit cards. She was already in her 60s and had an MA in psychology (she went back to school during the second wave). I cannot imagine not having my own bank account, credit cards, career, apartment, and 401(k). Money is power is self-determination. Secret Superstar (2017) was devastatingly predictable, but it certainly got that part right.


Dum Laga Ke Haisha (2015) tells a similar story- a mismatched pair falling in love- in a completely different way. The title was translated as My Big Fat Bride; the groom, played by Ayushmann Khurrana, falls in love not because of the bride's appearance, but in spite of his own prejudices. The bride, played by Bhumi Pednekar (who won a well-deserved Filmfare Award for the role) is opinionated, whip-smart, stubborn, ambitious, and kind. Dum Laga Ke Haisha was awarded the Filmfare Award for Best Feature Film in Hindi and is available for purchase on youtube. I would highly recommend it as a refreshing alternative.

Film: Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (2008)
Director: Aditya Chopra
Writer: Aditya Chopra
Country: India
Run time: 164 minutes
Language: Hindi

Sunday, May 13, 2018

The Dirty Picture

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” -Oscar Wilde



The Dirty Picture (2011) is about sex and power- and power is ultimately not in the hands of Silk (Vidya Balan), our heroine, but in the hands of the men in the film industry who made her films, and those who then told her story. Its meta misogyny!

The film was presented by the director Milan Luthria in interviews as a conglomerate biopic of Silk Smitha and other Southern Indian film sex-symbols, as well as Marilyn Monroe. In TDP Reshma/Silk is a young woman from Southern India who runs away to Madras to become a star. She secures her first major role by seducing Surya Kant (Naseeruddin Shah), her childhood crush, and rises to infamy as an “item number girl” and vamp. She declares, "I am the vamp of every story."



And because this is a Hindi film about the life of a vamp, it doesnt have a happy ending for Silk. To add insult to injury, TDP is narrated by Abraham (Emraan Hashmi, Bollywood's "serial kisser"), who disliked Silk from the very beginning. After three hours of sexual tension Abraham realizes he is in love with Silk, but his love is not enough. Spoiler Alert: Silk dresses herself in a red bridal sari and kills herself. TDP has some moments of undeniable fun. Silk is outrageous- she breaks rules, she calls people out, she relishes her money and her fame and power. To take revenge on a film columnist who snubs her, Silk dances on a car in front of the columnist’s home during a party, instigating a small riot. To take revenge on her former lover, Silk initiates a public relationship with his brother. To jump-start her career, Silk steps into the place of a missing item number girl, gyrating her way onto the silver screen, and when her career falters, Silk creates her own star vehicle.

But make no mistake- although TDP was praised by some reviewers as a feminist game-changer, is is ultimately a story of society punishing a woman who was ambitious beyond her station and then turning her story into a warning. Sex is about power- but not for women. 

Film: The Dirty Picture (2011)
Director: Milan Luthria
Writer: Rajat Aroraa
Country: India
Runtime: 144 minutes
Language: Hindi

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Queen

The most famous feminist judgement of film is the Bechdel test, which asks if a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. The requirement that the two women must be named is sometimes added. This would seem like a small ask- I spend most of my time talking to other women about things other than men, and we all have names. The test doesnt ask if the film reinforces gender stereotypes, or if they are discussing child-rearing, or if they get fridged. They just have to have names and not talk about men the whole time. And a shocking number of films fail the test. Below is a comparison chart of the number of lines of dialogue between men and women in Bollywood films based on scripts available to researchers online - not strictly the Bechdel test, but if women have no dialogue, the film can't pass the test. Even Pink (2016)- a film about the experience of women in the Indian court system- has significantly less female dialogue than male.

*Female dialogues in red, male dialogues in blue.
Male dialogue blue, female dialogue red 
Queen (2013), however, does very nicely. Currently streaming on Netflix, Queen is a film about agency, friendship, and liberation from one's own fears. The lead character, Rani, begins the film a heartbroken jilted bride and ends the film a self-possessed woman who sees a life of possibilities far beyond her past aspirations.
Rani and Vijay, Source: Viacom18

As writer Arushi Kapoor pointed out, Queen was, "arguably, the most feminist film in Bollywood post the 2000’s and definitely a lesson in Feminism 101..." From the lovely female friendships and sex-positivity to the *shocking* suggestion that just because he loves her she doesnt have to love him back, Queen puts Rani, her relationships, and her journey of self-discovery front and center.

Rani before the wedding
The film opens with preparations for a wedding. Rani (breakout star Kangana Ranaut), a middle-class young woman in Delhi is marrying the son of a family friend- Vijay (Rajkummar Rao)- who breaks off the engagement the day before the wedding. Heartbroken Rani decides to go on her honeymoon anyway, to Paris and then on to Amsterdam.

Rani's parents are not thrilled, but do not stand in her way. Rani's dynamite grandmother (Tripta Lakhanpal) encourages her, telling her that before Partition, she was in love with Faisal, who, she notes, was "very cute." In the refugee camp outside Delhi she met Rani's grandfather, who looked handsome in the lamplight of the tent. No doubt she loved him for his mind. She encourages Rani to get out of the hotel in Paris and meet someone new. Rani's grandmother is the sex-positive role model we all need, and just one of many multi-dimensional supporting characters to grace the film.


Vijaylaxmi (Lisa Haydon) who Rani meets in Paris, is especially enjoyable. Vijay, as she prefers, is a half-Indian single mother with a job, friends, lovers, and chutzpah. The film's portrayal of Roxette (Sabeeka Imam), a friend of Vijay who happens to be a sex worker in Amsterdam, never feels preachy but makes no apologies. Roxette is a woman who doesnt need to be rescued.

Back in Paris, in addition to friendship Vijay also appreciates the power of a makeover, and over the course of the film Rani's wardrobe choices subtly become more her own. This is only one of the ways the film appreciates nuance- the flashbacks to memories of fiance Vijay's desire for control over Rani's behavior are beautifully timed, and Rani's intense friendships formed while traveling feel genuine. When Rani leans into her first new relationship I cheered out loud (get it, girl!) and I held my breath when she saw Vijay again. It is easy to care about Rani- she is remarkable in her ordinariness.

Me in Seoul
The idea of traveling somewhere else to become yourself has been played out across time and across the globe from Abraham to Bilbo Baggins and Odysseus. But how many stories have been written about women traveling to find themselves? Women are sometimes the destination but they are rarely the explorer. While Rani finds her own power when she fights off a mugger in Paris. She finds her independence when she checks into her hostel in Amsterdam. In Paris the room was booked under his name, but in Amsterdam the hostel is booked under her own. When Rani returns to Delhi, everyone comments on her appearance, but what has changed is not her hair but her outlook.

I could probably find things to criticize about Queen. But frankly I dont want to. It has been a rough year for women in America, and if Queen wants to show us an optimistic, empowering, feminist happy ending I will take it.

My general feelings about this film
For a summary of the research study mentioned at the beginning of the post, please see Sahil Rizwan's "10 Eye-Opening Revelations About Sexism In Bollywood From A Study Of Over 4,000 Films". For an introduction to #metoo in India in 2017, please read Sumati Thusoo's article in The WireFor a user-generated pass/fail of movies, please visit http://bechdeltest.com/. The conversations within the site are fascinating- debates usually hinge on one single scene which might or might not allow the movie to pass the test. The fact that there might or might not be a single scene in the film that meets the criteria is abysmal. But here is a list of 25 more (from Hollywood) that do

Film: Queen (2013)
Director: Vikas Bahl
Writer: Anvita Dutt Guptan, Kangana Ranaut
Screenplay: Vikas Bahl, Chaitally Parmar, Parveez Shaikh
Run time: 146 minutes
Country: India
Language: Hindi, English, French 

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Dev.D

Devdas, written by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay and published in 1917 in Kolkata, is one of the classics of Indian literature. It has been adapted for the silver screen more than a dozen times across the years, but my favorite version is Dev.D (2009).

Paro scandalizes at her wedding
Director Anurag Kashyap approached the well-known story with a very specific vision. Dev.D is aggressive and flashy and loud. The music is hip and the retelling emphasizes that the story is as modern as it was in 1917. Boy (Dev, played by indie star Abhay Deol) goes to the city and gets confused, girl (Paro, played by the radiant Mahie Gill) stays behind and pines. Boy blows chance with girl. Girl marries someone else in revenge. Boy goes to city and destroys his life while sex-worker Leni/Chanda (Kalki Koechlin in her first Hindi role) falls in love with him.


Dev is not a nice character, and he is not nice to the women in his life.  He is a hypocrite about sex who doesn't believe women when they contradict something he hears from a man. He sinks into a life of debauchery, drugs, and self-pity when he is too proud to admit his mistakes, and eventually commits manslaughter. And it is still more uplifting than the original.

The India of Dev.D isn't nice to women either.  Paro, who is sexy and smart and angry, is undervalued by her family and Dev, and lashes out with violence, plainspoken cruelty, and by marrying an older man she doesn't love.

Leni and Dev
India is cruel to Leni as well. This is the first version I have ever come across in which Chanda gets a real back-story- in this case, based on a sex scandal from 2004 involving two students. Leni, a 17-year old student, is caught in a web of societal hypocrisy. Her father is so shamed by the publicity he kills himself. Sent to the country until the scandal dies down, Leni refuses to be exiled. Shunned by family and friends when she returns to Delhi, Leni turns college student by day, sex worker by night. Her refusal to apologize, to feel shamed, to curl up and die- Leni is an amazing character. She builds a life for herself in the brothel, and is doing fine until Dev comes along. Leni's story is told with sensitivity and humor, and a recognition that she is a survivor. The scene in the swimming pool, in which Chanda recounts to Dev her father’s reaction to her scandal, and Dev repeats to her the words she wishes her father had said to her is intimate and sad. Why either women cares about Dev is a mystery- although to his credit, by the end of the film it is also a mystery to Dev.

Dev and SRK as Devdas
Throughout the film Kashyap cleverly references 2002 adaptation of Devdas, a masala version starring SRK, Aishwarya Rai Bachan, and Madhuri Dixit. Leni takes her professional name Chanda, from Chandramukhi, the tawaiff in Devdas after watching "Maar Dala" the most famous song from the hugely expensive and popular 2002 version.

By the time Devdas was published in 1917, the Indian film industry was already established. The first filmed version of Devdas was released in 1928. I have not been able to track that down, but the 1935 and 1936 versions are on youtube.  Guru Dutt's classic Pyaasa (1957) is also based on the story. For more information about classic Indian cinema, please see the National Film Archive in Pune. For a discussion of the history of Delhi's red light district, please see "A search for Old Delhi’s courtesans reveals a present that’s not always comfortable with the past", by Ranjana Dave.

Delhi's Red Light District
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Writer: Anurag Kashyap, Vikramaditya Motwane
Language: Hindi, English, Punjabi, French, Tamil 
Country: India
Run time: 144 min 
Producer: Ronnie Screwvala

Saturday, March 31, 2018

English Vinglish

Sridevi as Sashi
Sridevi as Sashi
English Vinglish (2012) is celebration of women, cosmopolitanism, and compassion, and is a great film to watch during Women's History Month! Few films have made me as happy as English Vinglish. There is so much joy and wonder in the story. The music is disposable, but the acting by Sridevi is flawless. 

Sashi is a mother and wife who runs a business out of her home making ladoos. Her husband and daughter tease and exclude her for not speaking English, still the language of status and upward mobility in India. Her husband tells company, “My wife was born to make ladoos!” and cannot understand why she does not see this reductive assessment of her worth as a compliment.

New Coat!
New Coat!
When Sashi's niece in New York decides to get married, Sashi is sent ahead of her family to help make preparations. She is reluctant to travel alone, and struggles in New York without English. Then she decides to take her money (her own money, earned from her business) and enroll in a four-week language class in Manhattan. Her classmates come from around the world and are ultimately united in their affection for their teacher and one another. Unlike in Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003)also set in NYC, gay New Yorkers are not the butt of discriminatory jokes. English Vinglish celebrates the diversity of NYC, and the city is busy and bustling but ultimately also a place of reinvention and rediscovery. New York looks beautiful, and it was good for me to be reminded that although things feel bleak, there are still places in the United States where diversity  is celebrated.



The joy of the film for me came from watching Sashi grow in confidence as she learned to navigate New York, made friends, and her English improved. The subtle changes in her posture and interactions with the people around her were beautifully acted. I cheered when she bought a trench coat like the one she considered buying in India- until her daughter teased her about it. Her purchase was in part inspired by the film within the film The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954), starring Elizabeth Taylor. Sashi slays in her trench coat.

By the end of the film Sashi declares, “I don’t need love. I need respect.” Bold words at a wedding, and bold words from a woman in any film, in any genre. To point out, as some reviewers did, that not everything will be perfect when Sashi returns home is missing the point- Sashi has reminded herself that she is worth more than she believed, and reminded her family of her worth as well. What happens next is up to her.

The star of the film Sridevi passed away in February of this year. The circumstances surrounding her death caused a great deal of unsavory speculation, and sparked headlines like this from the BBC: "Sridevi Kapoor death: Tragedy shines light on Bollywood pressures". In case we were worried that being an actress was only difficult in Hollywood. 

Women's March 2017 Baltimore
Women's March 2017 Baltimore 
Which brings us back to misogyny and Women's History Month. We received several emails this women's history month at work, and they all felt incredibly hollow. Our President is a sexual predator! But women are super cool! Look how far we've come!  But Women's History Month is also fraught as a result of the ongoing schisms within the feminist movement, as exemplified by conflict within the Women's March. I am not sure anyone believed that a single large protest was going to make mainstream feminism intersectional once and for all- or maybe we did- but I at least hoped that we could all get on the same on at least some of the things. We couldn't. 

These 10 women had just been released from a 60-day sentence in a Washington workhouse following a picket at the White House, Washington DC. This demonstration was to demand that the remaining eight women in prison should be treated as political prisoners rather than criminals. Their leader, Alice Paul, received a seven-month sentence in solitary confinement for disobeying prison rules. (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
Suffragettes released from a Washington workhouse
Their original arrest was also for protesting
This is not a new problem. For an introduction to the politics of (white) First Wave Feminism in the early years of the 20th century, The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore is a place to start. It is illuminating as much because of what is left out as by what is included: women of color are almost entirely absent, a reminder that feminism has a long and ongoing problem with exclusion. I do not believe for a moment that POC didnt read comic books and missed the First Wave, but the subjects of the book- WW creator  William Moulton Marston and his family- either didnt notice or didnt care. However, the book does provide an overview of the tensions between different political agendas and personal beliefs within first-wave and pre-second wave white feminism. The women in long skirts seem so static in old photographs that I sometimes forget that the first wave also had militant and free-love fringes, and that the question, "What does equality look like?" has always elicited passionate and opposing answers. That the answers have so often excluded huge numbers of women helps answer the question, "How did we get here?"  

Film: English Vinglish (2012)
Director/Writer: Gauri Shinde
Runtime: 122 minutes
Language: Hindi, English
Country: India

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Umrao Jaan

A City Gate in Lucknow
A City Gate in Lucknow
 Reviewing Umrao Jaan (1981), like Sholay (1975) or Mughal-e-Azim (1960) feels a bit like reviewing Citizen Cane (1941), but it is too good to not write about. What follows is a review of the 1981 film, not the critically blasted 2006 re-make.

The Story

Umrao Jaan Ada, considered by some the first Urdu-language novel, was written by Mirza Hadi Ruswa and published in 1899. The eponymous Umrao Jaan Ada is a tawaiff (courtesan) in Lucknow in the years leading up to 1857, variously called the Sepoy Rebellion and the First War of Independence (please see Mangal Pandey: The Rising). In addition to providing commentary on the hypocrisy of a society which professes devotion to a tawaiff which means nothing but heartache and social rejection for the object of devotion, Umrao stands in for India herself, as men step up with promises of love which are nothing more than exploitation. Umrao Jaan, like other tawaiff, occupies a liminal, ambiguous space between the sought-after and the disposable, neither and both.



In 1981 Rekha's portrayal of Umrao Jaan won her a well-deserved National Film Award for Best Actress. As in 2006, when Aishwarya Rai Bachchan portrayed Umrao Jaan, one of the most beautiful women of her day was chosen for the titular role; as the doomed courtesan, object of so many men's desire, Rekha is radiant, resilient, and vulnerable.

She is also self-sacrificing, as is required of sex-worker heroines. Umrao gives up the nawab, the love of her life, so that he may be married according to his mother's wishes. She reminds him that his mother has a far greater right to him. She is kind to her friend Gohar Mirza, portrayed by a young and rakish Naseeruddin Shah, even though he is not necessarily a good friend to her. She is loyal to her Ustaad (teacher) Khan, and to the madam in charge of the kotha, Khanum Jaan.

Her Ustaad tells her, "you are not a thing of this kothay, the whole world belongs to you." As a tawaiff, this is cruelly untrue. 

Ruins of the Residency in Lucknow
The Setting 

Our story takes place in Lucknow, the city where I studied with the American Institute of Indian Studies. Umrao Jaan is melancholy on several levels- most obviously, Umrao Jaan is doomed by her profession to a lonely life as a public woman. Adored by all men, she is known only to a few, and can lay claim to none. The other, opposing melancholy of the film lies in the ending of her world with the uprising of 1857. While in Lucknow I was often struck by the sense of living in a post-1857 world, a sense I had nowhere else in India. Whereas (New) Delhi looks back to 1947 and Partition or forward to a flashier, more powerful future, Lucknow seemed to me to look back to earlier, more elegant and prosperous times; Urdu as a language and linguistic identity, with its emphasis on purity of vocabulary and pronunciation, courtly manners, and literary traditions, seemed a language and culture more concerned with the past than with the future, the continued use of Urdu in cinema, and especially film music, notwithstanding. In Lucknow the relics of a pre-1857 world were everywhere, from the crumbling city walls to the ruins of the Residency, a focal point of violence and site of much bloodshed. If Delhi is a city of "what if..." then Lucknow felt like a city of "if only...".

A complete aside for people who may have missed the Lucknow reference on Downton Abbey- when the Dowager Countess is encouraging Lady Sybil (forever in our hearts) to pursue nursing, she references an aunt who also defied expectations by "manning the guns" in Lucknow. She meant this Lucknow and the events of 1857. Another queasy colonial moment from Downton.   

The Costuming 

The costuming of the film consistently makes best-of lists, for good reason- it is exquisite. Umrao wears a variety of different styles which draw primarily on Persian and other Central Asian traditions. The wide sashes holding jeweled sabers worn by men epitomize a dichotomous world of elegance and brutality. Silk, crepe, organza, airy cottons and exquisite brocades evoke the sumptuous moment that was late-Mughal Lucknow about to go up in a rain of cannon blasts and a puff of gunpowder smoke.

It is also worth noting that the idea that India has no history- in the sense that things are the way they have been for hundreds of years- is an orientalist/colonialist construct which has stuck, particularly when it comes to women's fashion. This is spite of the fact that a wide range of clothing has been worn for generationsVogue India's photo slideshows are always fun and gorgeous, and showcase this blending of styles and cutting-edge designs.

Aside- while in Tbilisi with my baby sister we noticed a woman of East Asian decent wearing a gorgeous turquoise shalwar khamez. Baby sister noted that the Soviets moved their Korean population away from the border to North Korea to Uzbekistan, where women evidently adopted the eminently practical outfits. 


For a beautifully written series of translations of the best songs from the film, including "Yeh Kya Jagah Hai Doston", "Dil Chiiz Kyaa Hai?", and “Justajuu Jiski Thii” please see the charming blog Mr. and Mrs. 55. Both songs are sung by the ever-green Asha Bhosle, whose music is widely available

For an interesting reflection on music in the final years of the Awadhi court, I recommend this fascinating interview with one of the last performers in Lucknow's court. A new website created by Indian industrialist Sanjiv Saraf, Rekhta.org is a tremendous resource for video and sound recordings of Urdu poetry.

To the dancing!



Rekha as Umrao Jaan performs a style of dance known as kathak. Rekha was not a professionally-trained kathak dancer, and can be forgiven for not being very good. She is not very good.  Whatever you do, please do not take Umrao Jaan as a prime example of Indian classical dance. 

The Jewelry

kundan
Kundan jewelry
My host mother in Lucknow was from a land-owning family in Uttar Pradesh. She told stories, handed down to her from grandmothers, of great-grandmothers whose every need was attended to by servants, and who could be carried in palanquins for an entire day, always on land owned by their family. Some of the jewelry used in the film was owned by her family. The jewelry, specifically the jewelry with inlaid jewels and seed pearls, is called kundan. Jaipur is particularly known for its production of kundan jewelry, just as Hyderabad is known for pearl jewelry. The pendants worn by women down the parts in their hair and onto their foreheads are called tikka, the pendants worn along the side of a woman's hair is called a jhapta; Umrao Jaan wears both. 

A note on the red coloring on Rekha's hands- most of us are familiar with mhendi (usually marketed in the US under the Arabic word 'henna'). We have seen intricate designs of flowers, vines, birds, etc. Rekha wears what I was told is a more traditional pattern for Muslim North India, in which only her fingertips, fingernails, and circles in her palms are dyed. For notes about the mhendi Rekha wears please see my previous post "Bringing Bollywood Home"

The Poetry 

One of the most iconic scenes of the film features the Nawab sitting in his carriage under the kothay's latticed window listening, enraptured, to Umrao Jaan's performance of her poetry. This is the closest we will ever get in film to a man falling in love with a woman for her soul sight-unseen.  

To the cultural notes!

When I first arrived in Delhi and saw red paan stains on sidewalks, roads, and outdoor walls, I was concerned that I had moved to the knifing capital of the world. I was hugely relieved to learn it was just spit. Paan is a mild stimulant comprised of a green paan leaf filled with sweet or savory morsels, breath freshening seeds, and a bit of this and that. Paan is addictive, kills hunger, and is widely consumed. It can also cause mouth cancer.  

Paan in Kolkata
Paan in Kolkata
Paan daan, special paan boxes, are presented to guests at the kotha so they can help themselves. As Southerby's discovered in 2013, there is quite a market for Mughal articles of beauty. No doubt the paan daan used in the film were similarly beautiful. 

For a fascinating discussion of colonial North India, before and after 1857, please see C.A. Bayly's Empire and Information:Intelligence Gathering and Social Communication in India, 1780-1870. It is not a perfect book, but it is certainly an interesting read, particularly for those interested in communication. For those interested in Umrao Jaan more broadly, Fran Pritchett's site for the University of Columbia is fantastic. The full text of Umrao Jaan Adda is available online

Film: Umrao Jaan (1981)
Director: Muzaffar Ali 
Writers: Shama Zaidi, Javed Siddiqui, Muzaffar Ali
Runtime: 145 minutes
Language: Hindi/Urdu 
Country: India