3-30-16 Indian Diaspora in DDLJ

Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge (DDLJ) directed by Aditya Chopra is a film that seems to soften the edges around the ever present Westernization of the world, particularly India. As a country that has frequently created strong feelings of national and cultural identity in film, India has always felt the friction between Western culture and values against Indian culture and values and DDLJ is one film that has done well to cater to both ends of the spectrum, despite featuring two protagonists that are Non-resident Indians (NRIs).

Having two characters that are NRIs is actually an integral part to at least part of the narrative of the film which is that by having two main characters that are born in England but are still very much Hindustani, they are able to represent a blending of cultural identities and interests while maintaining their already strong Hindustani values and identities. We can see this happen when noticing early in the film Simran and Chutki are relaxing at home with some likely techno-style genre of music in their high-waisted jeans, vest and T-shirt, or British school uniform after enjoying a sugary bowl of cereal with an ad for Sonic the hedgehog on it. The scenes following this show the whole family dressed in more traditional Indian garb and the girls immediately “switch to a melancholy song from 1946 Hindi film, Shahjehan” (Ghosh). While this switch between cultures in context seems to suggest the patriarchal control that Baldev, Simran and Chutki's father, has on the family and the expectation to cater to his cultural preferences.

Baldev comes as an interesting character in this Indian diaspora which was pointed out humorously but aptly in the youtube review of DDLJ by Kanan Gill, in that Baldev left for England to accrue wealth and start a family and yet he is supposed to be the largest proponent for Hindustani culture, nostalgic to the point that he projects his nostalgia onto his family to the point that their children feel the need to appeal to him by pretending to be listening to music from traditionally Hindi films. The youtubers then point out when dealing with NRI nostalgia, the most aggravating thing to them is that if you complain and compare everything to India, then why not move back to India? The very same dynamic is played out in Baldev who ironically as the family's NRI nostalgic constant has not apparently seen his family in 20 years despite his supposed wealth and well-being in England.

This juxtaposition between the father and Simran and Raj then bolsters the effectiveness that the two have as characters that show just how safe their culture and heritage are whilst taking in Western elements as well. According to Uberoi, DDLJ was also one of the “new series of popular movies in which the NRI is positioned as hero,” which is interesting as it allows for the space to create a social trend or norm that NRIs can be characters that are not inherently corrupted by the Western world (Uberoi 325).

As a film that gives favor to NRI nostalgia particularly, the musical score and dances also strike an interesting balance in that the beginning of film where we're in Europe, the general sound, particularly the musical number during the French banquet event, gives off a sort of blend between traditional Hindi style and a sort of flamenco flare. The dances also feel more full-body-animated and free-flowing during the European section of the film. The most notable musical difference when we reach Punjab is the immediate front-runner instrument that rules over much of the traditional Hindi sound: the sitar. Previously, the most we hear the sitar is when Raj idly plucks at it save for a few times he genuinely plays some progressions. Suggesting once more the safety of the youthful NRIs traditional culture.

In the end, with all the service DDLJ does for the Indian diaspora, the film is still able to become as much a commercial success abroad as it does at home, even being dubbed by many as being a film that “inaugurated the new type of Hindi cinema known as Bollywood” (Dwyer). The success of the film is handily explained in one short quote from chapter six of Virdi's book The Cinematic ImagiNation, “In Hindi cinema the figure of the diasporic Indian is metonymic of this anxiety of the invasion of the west and disappearance of an “Indian identity,” which it cleverly manipulates to reimagine the nation in response to changing conditions” (Virdi 197). The film is able to create a norm of acceptance and integration of Western culture with Indian culture without a sense of invasion or loss of identity.

3-16-16 Bombay

The film Bombay handles the often rocky relationship between two religions and how volatile traditional values are while using Shekhar and Shaila as a microcosm, as Professor Ghosh notes in the blog for this week, for modern Indians and how they are beginning to feel in regards to religion and humanity but also for how Indians are greatly damaged by the fires of conflict that burn on between Muslim and Hindu faiths.

Early on the viewer is shown how uninterested in the religious traditions both Shaila and Shekhar are when we see Shaila constantly becoming unveiled from her niqab either by the wind or of her own design which suggests that it's natural and also willful how Shaila is not particularly constrained by the traditions of her religion. Shaila loses her niqab not long after becoming openly intimate with Shekhar which is one of many indicators for the willingness to relax traditional religious effects and requirements.

Shekhar has a more direct relationship with this natural and willfulness to treat his religion as he feels makes sense to him, namely for the sake of love. He goes as far as wearing a niqab to disguise himself as a classmate of Shaila's in order to get close to her on a rowboat. The act seems to be arguably sacrilegious to which Shekhar's friend tells him "they'll cut off your hand if you're caught!" (Raynam 19:10). Both characters openly deny the standard boundaries set up by their respective religious affiliations so that they may find love and peace within one another. This then becomes the narrative as the two marry and begin living with each other in the city of Bombay, the only place that the two can be together as their families outwardly refuse the prospect of marriage between the two due to religious purposes. The actions of the couple are constantly poking holes at the inane logic behind those that oppose their relationship.

When Shekhar tells his father that he plans to marry Shaila, his father gets upset with what seems to him to be a selfish and irrational decision. Shekhar retorts by asking if Muslim people are the enemy to which his father neglects to address altogether. The fact that during this scene it is raining is important for the character Shekhar and by extension Shaila as it symbolizes the birth of life into a new generation of social acceptance between two major religions. There is even mention at the beginning of the film how crops are doing so well and were saved by the rain. The rain has literally brought life to the village and beyond, through the union between Shekhar and Shaila. Typically with heavy rain, old sediment will be washed away for new soils and earth to take its place, much like how this union will usher in new thought regarding religious and cultural unification and acceptance.

The score also reflects a similar revitalization as the musical numbers harken back to traditional sounds and also to Guru Dutt's camera shots that move up close to our main characters and afar frequently as though "the gaze of the camera, for the most part, presents" different points of view (Ghosh). At the same time, the songs also offer up a more modern element like in "Tu Hi Re" as the singing is paired with various synthesizer effects and a steady bouncy drum beat that repeats steadily, all things that seem to be different from typical musical numbers in films thus far (before the 1990s) which do not feature synthesizers, of course, and also are seldom as simplistic with few instruments incorporated at any given time. 

In the song "Tu Hi Re," we see an important reflection of our microcosmic couple and the village in the castle that is constantly being battered by the choppy waters. Despite the tumultuous ocean waves that crash against the coast and the castle, the fortress still stands as a symbol of the stalwart love Shekhar and Shaila have for each other but also the strength that the youth that will succeed their parents. Their passions, interests, and desire for change are ironclad and strong against the weathering from the traditional values of their elders that wish to maintain the status quo rather than find a middle ground that promotes happiness, love, and peace like what Shekhar and Shaila are able to represent. 

The other point of the film that then suggests the rapid and powerful force of progression is after Shekhar and Shaila have their children and as Ghosh mentions, the children occupy a hybrid territory between two previously seemingly incompatible religions. Their confusion over the importance of being either Hindu or Muslim serves as a soft reminder of what Shekhar hints at with his father and the question over whether Muslims are to be enemies. The two boys who grew up accepting both Hindu and Muslim ideals and practices don't understand the divisive nature that instigated the riots let alone that the two were supposedly mutually exclusive. 
As a side note, the NYTimes article suggests that during the religious riots in Bombay at the time, there were supposedly more deaths of Muslims than Hindus and yet the director depicts the film with more of a shared damage on both sides. This decisions serves to strengthen the narrative of taking neither religious affiliation and instead suggesting that one can simply be Indian, first and foremost, and also that religion can be open to all and should not, and typically do not, preach the exclusion of others anyway.

In the end, the film is able to create a strong call for equality and acceptance as societal norms, particularly in the criticism and interest in the removal of "feudal religious and caste identities" that only seem to cause pain and anguish among the average Indian and instead people should focus on being Indian, accepting and appreciating one another first and foremost (Ghosh). Shekhar and Shaila's children act as living testaments to the possibility of becoming inter-religious and inter-cultural.

On a personal note, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie from the music to the characterizations and the cute humor despite the ultimately solemn historical violent background of the true events of the riots which was also dramatic and suspenseful, making for a wonderful film altogether. I feel as though I am partial to this film because the pacing and music more closely matches with what I grew up and am used to and find it easier to resonate with. 

Also, the actress that plays Shaila is almost obnoxiously cute in the film and I absolutely love it and for the first 20 minutes I thought Shekhar looked like the biggest dork of all but by the end of the film I came to love his character as well, mustache and all.  

Mr. India/ Half-Truth - Review and Response

 Given that not many classmates watched Half Truth, my responses to other students' reviews on my own presentation and film choice will be quite short and supplemented by discussing the similarities and contrasts between Half- Truth and Mr. India.

First, with Patrick's review, the cyclical nature of violence is certainly seems apparent within Velankar's life as his youth begins with witnessing and being subjective to violence in variations and then with being in a society that is corrupt and oppressive while being in a job that demands personal intervention with the most corrupt and oppressive people on a daily basis, Velankar is in a negative feedback loop in part because he is ill-equipped. Violence has been a method of resolution in his life and when confronted with issues, especially violent ones, then more violence is the rational response for Velankar because of the seeming lack of any other coping or problem solving mechanisms. And so, exactly as Patrick says, “He tries to forge a path as a righteous cop in an unrighteous system, but he doesn't know how to accomplish such a task without violence.”

Then, with Shelby's comment, I feel as though there must have been a conscious decision on behalf of either the author of the short story from which this movie was based or the director for the film itself, to send such conflicting messages with Anant. The character is the protagonist, still, and is explicitly seen doing what could be considered outstanding police-work as he puts away bad guys but at the same time the viewer is being hammered with watching Anant brutally attack people that have certainly done things wrong but the near savage punishment he gives to these people is disproportional to the crimes as Shelby mentions. Shelby's other contribution about the allowance for Jyotsna primarily wearing the pure white sari as an ironic sense of purity is a fascinating point to make and one that I battled with myself to understand but the concept of Jyotsna being passive to changing society due to the paralyzing nature of the patriarchy over women makes a lot of sense. If Jyotsna was a character that decides to refute the sexism that she personally endures daily then she would no longer be able to wear the all-white sari because that, in a patriarchy is not what purity is about. It is a direct challenge which cannot possibly be pure within this paradigm.

The most notable contrast between the film from what I can tell would be the ways in which characters handle issues of masculinity and femininity; one of the films showcases the destructive nature of these socially constructed identities, whereas the other film deliberately makes challenges to these identities by putting characters in different unexpected roles as well as different outfits entirely. Seema seems to be a character that utilizes both the unintelligible body for the sake of humor and also for demonstrating how fluid gender can be (not to be confused with the identity 'Gender Fluid').

The other difference between the films is that they highlight different capabilities or incapabilities as Mr. India shows that with the acceptance of constant changing gender identifications and socially acceptable roles ascribed to genders and sexes, it opens up a much larger playing field for everyone involved. Spaces which were typically off-limits to certain sexes and or genders are opened up to the masses. Whereas with Half-Truth, gender roles and identities are seen as cages and an unfortunate cycle of distress that either pacify members of society from acting out of line or by forcing others to act in ways that directly abuse or repress others.

Whichever stances the films take, both are progressive as they outline the problem with the normative behaviors and identities that influence India but in rather different ways. An interesting way in which the two films are similar is in their portrayal of hyper-masculinity as Arun assumes the role of a superhero, talks with a “deeper and more resonant” voice as Susan mentions in her post and with how Anant only has violence to answer problems with as a last resort, and sometimes as a first resort. The films tackle masculinity in different ways but the effects of utilizing masculinity are still different.

Arun, when assuming the role of superhero, despite trying to sound more “manly” is still invisible and while he tries to exude this hyper-masculine through his voice alone, the character still knows what he looks like and how he sounds and it comes off as comical rather than genuine, mocking the masculine requirement to the role of hero. Conversely, Anant's “manliness” is just a destructive mechanism for him as it ruins his relationships, career, and possibly his life as a whole.

With Mr. India and Half-Truth, both films make great strides for social progression by critically holding ideas of gender conventions under a magnifying glass to point out their detriments either in dramatic fashion or humorously. Either method of criticism functions well and are effective within a commonly consumed medium like that of film. These two films perform their messages effectively, precisely because they are so accessible to the masses without forcing any highfalutin scripts down the throats of its viewers.

3- 8 -16 Ardh Satya (1983)

My Presentation is over the extra credit option Half-Truth and so I imagine many of you did not watch the film so here is the wiki that does a relatively good job of summarizing the story:

My Presentation Link: https://youtu.be/sGwVcGc8Ms0

 The film opens at a party where Anant Welankar (Om Puri), a police officer, meets Jyotsna Gokhale (Smita Patil), a lecturer in literature at a local college. Anant is a sub-inspector with Bombay police. They seem to hit it off despite some initial skirmishing about ideology, and the friendship blossoms into a relationship.

 Anant brings diligence, enthusiasm and a definite idealism to his job. But the job is harsh. There is a deep nexus between the local mafia, the cops and the (corrupt) politicians. Honest himself, Anant falls among the lower rungs of the police hierarchy and has very limited scope of authority on the state of affairs in his area.

When Anant arrests three common thugs, he is asked to meet with their boss, Rama Shetty (Sadashiv Amrapurkar), a don in the local mafia. Anant refuses all of Rama Shetty's attempts to get his men out or to entice Anant to join him. Shetty decides to watch over Anant.

Some time thereafter, a meek fellow from a local slum lodges a complaint about some ruffians who harass his wife. Anant finds them, locks them up, and administers a severe beating. As a fallout, the local MLA asks for Anant to be suspended.

 Anant's boss, inspector Haider Ali, explains to a mystified Anant that the ruffians were the MLA's henchmen, providers of muscle during elections and political rallies. Anant is defiant with a clear conscience (he did nothing wrong) and ready to face a tribunal. Haider Ali explains that it will hardly get that far. Tribunals are either delayed indefinitely or are rigged (by corrupt politicians), and suspension during that time is a permanent black mark on one's record (for no other politician will be willing to deal with such a troublemaker).

 Anant is initially baffled but goes along with Haider's plan to bring in Desai, a mediator or middle-man with connections in New Delhi, the "Centre" or national seat of power. Desai invokes higher powers to quietly cover up the matter. Anant's morals are shaken by this incident: He had to use means barely legal to uphold his righteous actions upon criminals.

 Anant reflects upon his childhood. His father (Amrish Puri) retired as a Faujdar (constable) in the village police force. His father was a hard and violent man, quick to slap or beat his wife on the slightest pretext. Anant recalls looking on and being powerless to intervene. When Anant graduates college, he expresses his desire to pursue higher education but is forced into joining the police force.

Things get interesting when Anant finds one of Rama Shetty's goons, badly beaten, burnt and left to die. Anant brings the man into the hospital and takes his statement where he names Rama Shetty and others who inflicted this assault. Anant storms into Rama Shetty's rooms to arrest him. But Shetty is unfazed. He makes a simple phone call to a high ranking cop who immediately asks Anant to back off. Anant cites the context and the overwhelming evidence but is still ordered to step away. A consternated, resentful and hapless Anant leaves, feeling intensely humiliated.

Haider Ali explains yet again: Rama Shetty plans to run for city council in the upcoming municipal elections and simply cannot afford to let a petty matter distract his ambitions. Anant is horrified and enraged, and takes to drinking. His relationship with Jyotsna suffers. He is distraught when he is sent to provide security cover for Rama Shetty's campaign rallies.

 He suffers another career setback when he leads an assault team to capture a dangerous daku (armed bandit) in the hills outside Mumbai, and the credit for the arrest is ultimately handed to another officer. His relationship deteriorates further and he takes to drinking fairly heavily. When Jyotsna confronts him, he confides in her.

 Jyotsna tries to be supportive and suggests he consider another career. (She is motivated by recent news stories about police brutality and has decided that she will not marry a police officer.) He has always tried to do the right thing, but his well-intentioned actions always seem to be thwarted by the tentacles of corruption in the police force or the political strata. In the alcoholic trans a prisoner is killed by Anant in the jail when he uses 'third degree' and now Anant is not only likely to be arrested and jailed, but also has to lose his entire career. Finally he surrenders to Rama Shetty for political protection. Now, in the clutches of Rama Shetty, Anant has to obey his every order and humiliation. The dirty conditions put by Rama Shetty angers Anant and he kills Rama Shetty and then surrenders voluntarily to the Police for any punishment.

3-02-16 Katha (Story 1983) - Binary

Sai Paranjpye's film, Katha, has a handful of unique characters that no matter the time on screen, the characterization of many of these characters is well done as each character stands out in one way or another. The lead character, Rajaram is one such unique character that, despite his honesty and genuine goodness, viewers are still filled with mix emotions about him similar to his foil Bashu. Both characters exhibit traits that we either find endearing, funny, interesting, clever or irritating, despicable, and so on. Rajaram seems to represent a particular role in the film's satirical universe that is much to the same design of what Thabith presented on and that is how Rajaram;s character is an extreme like Bashu with which other characters find themselves between like Thabith mentions. These characters present the parameters to which other people operate within typically. 

This parameter divide then becomes more interesting when we take into consideration the behaviors of Rajaram and Bashu within a gendered binary focus wherein Bashu is a "man" and Rajaram is portrayed as effeminate or a "woman." The blogspot reading labels Rajaram as "the earnest, do-gooder" and Bashu as the "charming conman" and in the film we learn that Rajaram has a degree and worked hard to achieve it as well as he works incredibly hard. These traits in this character show off his sustainability and his work ethic but it is also important to recognize how unabashedly kind he is to everyone in the chawl and out. It could be argued that Rajaram is a representation of an almost chaotic good character but for the sake of developing the importance of this gender binary concept in the film, I won't delve into that possibility. 

The intrigue of these traits of sustainability, kindness, honesty, and genuine good-nature are then the fundamental traits of this feminized character that represents the society's idea of a "womanly" person. In Sangeeta Datta's "Shyam Benegal," She depicts how film has been able to shed light on the struggles of women being marginalized in Indian society and Katha works to show some amount of this in quite a few ways with the women in the film but also with Rajaram, whom is essentially the representation of femininity which is an interesting decision to have a male in such a position in this narrative but in a patriarchal society, being a man is more of a norm and because of this, the neutral or normal decision for a character is  a man, regardless of what the character is being used to portray. 

Despite this male representor of femininity, Rajaram is still able to operate as a character that shows the ways in which women are oppressed or viewed as too idealistic or passive, traits that are often driven into women living within patriarchies. The director seems to deliberately play with these gendered traits when Rajaram is at work and acting incredibly nervous due to the women making advances on him, going so far as to present an apple, which given the context of the situation seems more of a sexual invitation using Freudian symbolism of a fruit that is commonly associated with a woman's breasts. This scene turns the gender binary on its head as it portrays these women as being sexually forthcoming almost to the extent of harassment, which in the following dream that Rajaram has, is exactly how he felt about the situation. 

The other side of the reason for Rajaram's feminine role other than a patriarchal normative expectation is also another way in which Paranjpye plays with the gender roles and expectations. Even though we often see shots of Rajaram in the kitchen while Bashu takes advantage of his kindness, the underlying factor is that Rajaram is the "breadwinner" in the house. He has a job and makes money while the "man" lazes about and barks orders at the "woman." When watching his company's new advertisement that literally features a man stalking a woman and cat-calling her, he comments on how childish the idea is, suggesting how inappropriate it is while the women he works with glaze over Rajaram's assessment and instead proceed to flirtatiously call out to him. 

So while it may seem like men dominate the film, the traits that comprise the embodiment of femininity within Rajaram, still exhibits some gender normative traits which could be discounted by the way other women act in the film but, overall the qualities suggest the honesty, kindness, diligence, and  idealism in women that are at first overlooked by everyone in the film but in the end recognized as being the most important while the embodiment of the oppressive man leaves entirely to poison another community with his lies and conniving ways. This binary that Thabith mentions, operates on different levels as there are frequently parallels drawn in the film, notably the gender discrepancy.