Sunday, April 30, 2017

Baahubali - A Song of Navel and Eyes

As the nation throngs cinema halls to finally unravel the deep mystery of Baahubali's murder, I'm curbing my enthusiasm and thinking about the cinematic marvel that was the first movie. Or the one it wanted to be. You can call it groundbreaking, genre bending, the film that finally unites North and South (Hello! Roja, anyone?) and many more things. Deep in our hearts we all know what we were looking for in this story of muscular heroes saving the day. We were hoping against hope for India's answer to Game of Thrones.

For the last seven years since the gigantic TV drama captured our imagination, we have all been whispering that age old lament over cups of tea and plates of sabudana wadas. It's the same lament we cried when we walked out misty eyed from a screening of Jurassic Park, or Independence Day, or The Matrix. Why can't India come up with something like this? Why can't we whip up a sensual feast with larger than life set pieces, nail biting action and mind boggling stories that the world can look up to?

Let me tell you it's not for lack of trying.

By trying I mean our films have tried to emulate some of those pretty fight scenes, those tricky visual effects, those interminable car chases, in the hopes of earning the same kind of applause. The result, obviously, has been at best Shivaay and at worst Jaani Dushman.

Because in our rush to recreate what Hollywood does passably well, we forget some of the important ingredients that go into the making of a worldwide box office phenomenon.

Script

Hollywood's greatest contribution to cinema is not churning out movies with monstrous budgets at a regular pace. It is the screenplay.

French filmmaker and wizard, Georges Milies is believed to have written the first screenplay for his film A Trip To The Moon. The early American film The Great Train Robbery had a screenplay that pretty much sets the format that is followed till date, except for dialogue. TGTR was a silent film.

It is said that Ashok Kumar and his colleagues studied the Hollywood style of scriptwriting for Achhut Kanya. Some of his best known films, including Howrah Bridge and Chalti Ka Naam Gadi, if you observe, follow a good coherent script.

Movies written by Salim-Javed are a study in structured screenplay. In recent years, many Indian filmmakers are building on strong scripts to come up with some fine multiplex-friendly movies.

But when it comes to more spectacularly mounted fares, the integrity of the screenplay is tossed off the window. Sanjay Leela Bhansali is among the worst offenders in this crime. Why, dear me why, would a medieval Indian Maharaja let his daughter entertain guests with song and dance, even if she is played by the gorgeous Deepika Padukone and the song is such a feast to the eyes? Such creative choices of course come not organically from the story, but from our filmmakers' assumption of what the audience wants to see.

And they are usually right. Warrior or queen, we like our heroines dancing. If they want more, they can go work elsewhere.

I don't think it is a coincidence that both Priyanka Chopra and Deepika Padukone, who danced so sportingly to the strains of Pinga in Bajirao Mastani, have gone on to find work in Hollywood. Perhaps that's the only place where they'll be asked to act, even it means fighting in a sports bra. At least they're not dancing.

Shivaay has a long-drawn action sequence after the kidnapped kids at the centre of its story are rescued. Fan has three long chase scenes in the service of a movie star's bruised ego. In films of a certain scale, we lose all sense of perspective.

Values

No matter how big the film, no matter how simplistic the narrative, Hollywood has a good grip on the values they espouse in their stories. They also keep improving on it. Even the biggest summer releases try to correct past sins of that industry by featuring a more diverse cast. Almost every big disaster movie has heroes who learn lessons in teamwork and being less of a douchebag. Even at the cost of belying some social realities and pissing off a few meninists, Hollywood movies keep portraying a rosier, fairer, less racist and gender balanced universe. Every once in a while, they address the social realities as well. There are films that portray historic and present day racism, critique American consumerism, and call out the still unequal treatment of women.

In India, misogyny is cool if the budget is right. Sultan can totally sideline his wife's aspirations, Baahubali can totally hijack a warrior lady's mission. And caste does not exist. The servants in Suraj Barjatya films just like being servants and marrying other servants.

This article talks about casteism in Baahubali. It also addresses the argument that the story is set in different times than ours. Right there is where the Game Of Thrones comparison stings most. The books and series are also set in an older, crueler world with different rules than ours. Yet through many different characters and subplots, the injustice and imperfections of that system are questioned, and the rules bent. Arya goes from a highborn girl to a nobody to a dangerous assassin. Brienne is mocked and harassed all her life, but she'll remain a warrior, thank you very much. The low-born Onion Knight is raised from pirate to King's Hand. The Brotherhood of the Wall treats all men as equal, and operates democratically. The Wildlings are humanized. I could go on and on.

Indian films are completely unable, unwilling, or entirely clumsy in questioning social hierarchies of any kind. Things are just the way they are. Hence our stories never rise above the banal plot and become about something bigger, because we don't want to touch the bigger issues.

Vision

Speaking of bigger issues, the most audacious quality of Hollywood blockbusters is their presumption of speaking for all of humanity. Aliens invade, America rescues. Virus erupts, America finds the cure. Americans solve hunger, AIDS, space and time travel, and it won't be long before they solve farmer suicides in Vidarbha, because India just cannot be bothered.

Our larger-than-life movies are about larger-than-life men (it's never a woman) and little else. Even a film with such noble intentions as Airlift has one Punjabi hero saving all the Indians in Kuwait with little help from anyone else. The real life incident that inspired the film was about the collaborative effort of a group of Malayalis.

Baahubali is about one man's struggle to win back his birth right. Shivaay is about one Indian man solving all of Bulgaria's problems. By contrast, Mad Max: Fury Road had an established hero assisting - not leading - a group of women on their quest to freedom.

In his book The Art Of Dramatic Writing, Lajos Egri states the case for building a dramatic story around a strong premise, a kind of central message or belief that lays the foundation of the narrative. Jurassic Park tells you not to fuck with nature. Mad Max celebrates the indomitable human spirit.

Take a look at most big budget Indian films, and the common premise you're likely to find is: the world bows to an awesome dude (again, never a woman).

PK: awesome alien dude
3 Idiots: awesome scientist dude
Rustom: awesome Navy dude
Sultan: awesome wrestler dude

See a trend?

Most of our big budget films are afraid to portray a flawed hero. Rancho cannot be wrong about anything. Sultan always wins. PK comes to Earth and solves all our problems. It wasn't always so. Sholay contained dollops of humour around Veeru's buffoonery. Deewar's Vijay was a deeply insecure man scared by a random incident from his childhood. Random, because he was attacked and tattooed by the villagers, not his brother. That set the two brothers on different paths for life.

***

It's not that our film directors, writers and producers are unaware of the integrity of the script, the importance of strong values, or the place for great vision that goes into making great cinema. For some reason, once big budgets get involved, all the awareness takes a backseat, and we panic into churning out yet another hyper masala monstrosity with dancing heroines and infallible heroes, and zero social awareness. On the last point, maybe the political realities of our country have a big role to play. Artistic freedom is worth zilch in our society and any asshole can tear down a cinema hall for any imagined offense. Still and all, a few efforts would be nice. Good films have been made in our country, and have done good business too.

Forget about making another Game Of Thrones or Jurassic Park. Let's make another Deewar.















Sunday, April 16, 2017

The Imtiaz Girl

I doubt anybody watching Vikramaditya Motwane's fabulously claustrophobic thriller Trapped will spare a thought about the woman in the story, but then that's the feminist's curse. We can't not notice. And I especially cannot miss an Imtiaz Girl hiding away in any corner of an otherwise impeccable tale.

Even though Geetanjali Thapa's character in the film was just a plot device to corner our protagonist into a bad decision that resulted in the film's main plot, couldn't they have come up with a better plot device than an Imtiaz Girl? Sorry, first the explanation...

An Imtiaz Girl is one of those modern day semi-liberated women you are most likely to find in an Imtiaz Ali movie. A badass away from home, but pragmatically goodie-two-shoes in front of family. Often engaged to be married to a man of the family's choosing, but game for some adventures before committing. The accidentally liberated girls - who set off from house looking only for a man's love, but end up doing something vaguely feministy.

Aditi, the orphan who must parade before a litany of would-be grooms for the benefit of her foster parents; but cannot resist a quick trip to Goa with total strangers for the fun of it.

Geet, whose only desire in life is to marry her college boyfriend, and runs off to be with him. He rejects her, and she takes up a job and leads a miserable lonely life in cold Simla. Until a Man comes to her rescue.

Heer, who is engaged to be married, and wants to live out a twisted Bachelorette fantasy with a guy clearly and easily smitten with her.

Veera, who runs out on her wedding, gets kidnapped and predictably develops Stockholm Syndrome.

In the spirit of all Imtiaz Girls, Thapa's Noorie is supposed to be the bolder half in the relationship. Rajkumar's Shaurya stutters as he tries to ask her out. She is so bold she teases him before going out with him. She even almost has sex with him - but alas! - she is already engaged, and must marry her intended, unless THE MAN DOES SOMETHING. That something he tries to do to rescue her from her marriage is what lands him in a ghost building, without roommates, without electricity or water, locked up on some 30+ floor with not a soul knowing his whereabouts. And while he struggles for his very existence, what does our girl do? She gets married, of course.

It used to puzzle me why so many Imtiaz Girls ended up eloping, or running out on impending weddings or engagements. But then, the Imtiaz Girl has little or no notion of standing up for herself, speaking out, earning her liberation bit by painful bit. She is the 21st Century manic pixie dreamgirl, helpless and manipulative in equal parts. A Man will always be her lifeboat to escape an unwanted marriage.

And the Imtiaz Girl is apparently becoming popular beyond Imtiaz Ali films as well. Tanu from Tanu Weds Manu was the classic Imtiaz Girl, fluttering her eyelids at prospective grooms to please her parents, then threatening them into calling off the engagement, because she has a boyfriend. It would never do to tell the parents herself.

A couple of years ago, four short films were afforded a mainstream release in the theatres under the title Chaar Cutting. Two of those films had female leads engaged to be married within a short deadline, UNLESS THE HERO DOES SOMETHING. And in both films, the hero fails to do that thing, and the heroine goes off to get married. One of them was a Mumbai girl who smokes and flirts with the guy in public places, and takes the initiative to get into a physical relationship. Yet when the guy goes into a coma, a day before her impending wedding to someone else, she promptly gets hitched, and sprouts a pregnant belly not a year from then. Smoking and flirting is the extent of her boldness.

And of course there are all the original Imtiaz Girls from Imtiaz films.

Are so many of our filmmakers so utterly convinced that women are these spineless, selfish, manipulative creatures, who will commit to a marriage if it pleases the family, and run out on that commitment as soon as a BETTER MAN shows up? Who, for the love of this Better Man, will elope, putting family and some poor guy through loads of pain, rather than blood speak up and tell people what she wants?

And it is no coincidence that none of these Imtiaz Girls are ever shown to have career aspirations. Unless the Imtiaz Girl is a guy.

Tamasha is to my knowledge the only Imtiaz film in which the girl does the honorable thing and breaks up with her boyfriend after she realizes she loves someone else. And she spends four years stewing in her feelings for this random guy she met on a vacation - four long years during which her parents patiently let her be, induct her in the family business, and reward her efforts with professional growth. The guy on the other hand is he manic pixie of this film. Away from parents and everything familiar, he lets himself free in faraway Corsica. He sings and dances and jumps and talks to mountains. Back in India and back to his job, he turns into a most boring version of himself. Four years later, the girl seeks him out, they start dating. But the girl was looking for her manic pixie. The guy cannot be the manic pixie anymore, or at least he thinks he can't. They break up, he goes on a search for his inner pixie, he rebels, he sets free, they reunite and all's well in pixie-land.

I might be one of the few people in the world who loved Tamasha. But the more I think about it, the more I feel that if Ved in the movie had been a girl, the story would have ended with the two young people reuniting after four years. All that searching-for-your-real-self stuff? That's for guys.