O que é Bollywood?
É muito comum que Bollywood seja usado como um termo
genérico pra todos os filmes indianos, assim como costumamos
chamar de Hollywood todos os filmes feitos nos Estados Unidos
e Inglaterra - e assim ignorando as diferenças entre cada
região; comerciais e de arte; de dentro da indústria ou
independentes. Muitos dos fãs de filmes ocidentais negam-se
a colocar Woody Allen, Micheal Bay e Jean Luc Godard dentro
da mesma categoria "Hollywood", e, da mesma maneira,
os fãs de cinema indiano recusam-se a chamar de Bollywood
tudo o que for de cinema indiano.
A Índia tem várias indústrias de filmes populares
- uma pra cada língua regional - mas Bollywood, especificamente,
refere-se à indústria de filmes em língua hindi baseados
em Mumbai. O termo surgiu na década de 70 com uma mistura
do nome Bombay (antiga Mumbai) com Hollywood.
Mas apesar do nome, Bollywood desenvolveu-se paralelamente
e quase isolado de Hollywood. Alguns curtas foram feitos
na Índia nos finais do século XIX, sendo o primeiro longa
tendo sido feito em 1913 (Raja Harishchandra) e o primeiro
falado em 1931 (Alam Ara). Inicialmente, havia um punhado
de cidades importantes produzindo filmes ao redor da Índia,
mas lentamente Mumbai foi se tornando destino de talentosos
diretores, escritores, atores etc de toda a Índia - o que
se intensificou após a Independência, em 1947, quando
muitos preferiram ficar na Índia ao invés do Paquistão.
Um dos exemplos mais importantes são os Kapoors, a mais
famosa família de Bollywood, feita de quatro gerações
e reis das bilheterias. Eles são originalmente da região
do Punjab que pertencia ao Paquistão.
Mas além de Bollywood ter sido um centro de talentos,
há outro importante fator que separa Bollywood do resto
das outras indústrias regionais de cinema indianas: a língua
hindi, que é a língua da capital indiana, Nova Délhi.
Após a Indendência, houve um movimento pra tornar o hindi
a língua nacional e os filmes falados nessa língua tornaram-se
a indústria nacional, apesar de haver um imenso número
de pessoas que não falam o hindi. O papel do hindi da
Índia ainda é muito controverso e existem extensas partes
do país em que Bollywood não é assistido. Ainda assim,
Bollywood continua sendo considerado representante do cinema
indiano e onde há a diáspora indiana é Bollywood que
é distribuído, assim como nos países em que filmes indianos
têm mercado, a saber: África, Ásia Central, Oriente Médio
e Europa Oriental (incluindo Rússia).
Então, resumindo, está correto chamar o indicado ao
Oscar Lagaan um filme bollywoodiano, já que ele foi feito
pela indústria hindi, mas não é correto chamar Quem Quer
Ser um Milionário? um filme bollywoodiano. Quem Quer Ser
um Milionário? baseou-se na índia, mas foi feito por ocidentais
para um público ocidental. Da mesma forma, é correto chamar
Anil Kapoor, que atua em Quem Quer Ser um Milionário?,
um ator bollywoodiano, já que ele estrelou em inúmeros
filmes de Bollywood, mas não é correto chamar Dev Patel,
protagonista do filme, um ator bollywoodiano. Ele é descendente
de indianos, mas nunca havia atuado em filmes falados em
hindi. Herança indiana sozinha não faz dele parte de Bollywood.
A palavra Bollywood pode ser ofensiva quando usada
indiscriminadamente, como na música
"Carmensita", de Devendra Barnhart, em que
Natalie Portman faz a princesinha bollywoodiana e que
Bollywood é representado como algo super exótico. Por
causa da associação da palavra Bollywood com imagens
de atrizes brancas como Natalie Portman dançando com
cobras sedutoras, há um movimento dentro de Bollywood
querendo renomeá-lo para HiFi - sigla pra Hindi Film
Industry (Indústria de Filmes Hindi) - o que separaria
os filmes hindi completamente dessas conotações
negativas. No entanto, apesar disso tudo, o importante
é que Bollywood vem se tornando internacionalmente
reconhecido e, se nada for feito pra educar as pessoas
que não conhecem esse cinema, então Bollywood será
sempre representado com imagens de uma Índia exótica e
seus verdadeiros tesouros serão sempre desconhecidos
dos críticos ocidentais, que seguirão chamando os
filmes bollywoodianos de cópias bobas.
O que faz um filme de Bollywood?
Lá nos começos da história do cinema, a indústria
estadunidense de filmes desenvolveu um estilo que
valorizava o realismo, com o uso de uma câmera
discreta. Milhares de quilômetros dali, a indústria de
filmes de Mumbai percebeu que uma forma estilizada de
drama, que incorporasse músicas nas narrativas,
funcionaria melhor com as audiências indianas. As
vastas diferenças entre as "linguagens"
cinemáticas do cinema indiano popular e o do estilo
ocidental são, provavelmente, a grande causa das
zoações sobre Bollywood na cultura popular ocidental.
Se um espectador não sabe como entender as deixas da
história que levam às músicas do filme, então ele provavelmente
ficará confuso quando os personagens principais começarem
a dançar. E se o espectador não entender os paralelos
míticos dos personagens arquetípicos, também não entenderá
o sentido de muitas cenas ou ainda julgará como irreais.
Essa confusão entre culturas é o grande obstáculo pra
ocidentais que vêem um filme indiano pela primeira vez.
O principal estilo usado em quase todo o cinema popular
indiano, incluindo Bollywood, é chamado masala (em referência
ao famoso tempero indiano, que mistura muitas especiarias).
Se na culinária masala é uma mistura de cravo, cominho,
nós moscada, pimentas e outras coisas, o filme masala
é uma mistura de drama, romance, comédia, valores familiares,
música, sexo e violência.
Pense em algo como Glee (música, drama, comédia, romance)
ou Segurando as Pontas (Pinneaple Express - violência,
comédia, valores familiares), pra ter uma ideia de como
isso funciona. Cenas de comédia são usadas pra quebrar
um momento de tensão; violência enfatiza a suavidade de
um romance; e os valores familiares pode mesclar isso tudo.
Quando um masala é bem feito, as mudanças de tom no filme
podem conduzir as emoções da audiência como um maestro
em uma orquestra.
Outra marca muito visível do cinema indiano é a forma
estilizada de atuação, o que pra um espectador ocidental
pode parecer muito exagerado. Essa forma estilizada de atuação
tem raízes no teatro tradicional indiano, mas enquanto
nós no ocidente não estamos acostumados a ver isso em
filmes hoje em dia, isso pode ser encontrado em filmes antigos
de Hollywood, assim como nas óperas, em musicais de teatro,
e ainda nas peças de Shakespeare - em outras palavras,
é a atuação que é experienciada em um teatro lotado.
O público indiano de um filme masala bem popular será
um tanto barulhenta e irá interagir com as imagens da tela
- assobiando pras suas atrizes e atores favoritos, dançando
ou jogando moedas na tela durante as músicas favoritas
- e então as atuações tem que ser exageradas o suficiente
pra dar conta dessa multidão barulhenta.
Ainda que esteja ficando menos comum, filmes de Bollywood
às vezes são feitos pra atingir as populações do interior
que não fala hindi ou que não sabe ler uma legenda - e
pra esses casos, a atuação exagerada dá conta de contar
a história mesmo que o espectador não entenda o que os
atores estejam dizendo. E mesmo hoje, diálogos importantes
são ditos em inglês no meio do filme, porque se um espectador
não entende hindi, existe grande chance de ele entender
inglês.
A música e o local onde elas entram na narrativa são
também marcas importantes dos filmes indianos populares.
Os filmes não são "musicais" no sentido que
estamos acostumados no ocidente, porque eles não representam
um gênero separado. Se todos os filmes usam músicas na
narrativa, então as músicas são apenas parte da forma
com que a história é contada. Geralmente não são os
atores e as atrizes que cantam suas próprias músicas,
essa tarefa fica a cargo do que chamamos de cantores de
playback.
Os cantores de playback acabam sendo tão conhecidos
quanto os próprios atores, até mesmo pelo fato de seus
trabalhos serem feitos por trás das câmeras, o que faz
com que suas carreiras durem muito mais que a de um ator
e atriz pra quem eles cantam. Como exemplo, a super
amada cantora de playback Lata Mangeshkar começou a
cantar nos seus vinte e poucos anos e está até agora,
já nos 80.
Não são somente as músicas e essa mistura de tons
que separam o cinema popular indiano do estilo de cinema
ocidental; a estrutura de narrativa de um filme popular
indiano é totalmente diferente. Ao invés de o filme
ser construído em três atos, o cinema popular indiano
é estruturado em dois atos de formas livres, separados
por um intervalo.
Ao invés das narrativas serem levadas pelo formato dos
três atos, a estrutura do cinema popular indiano vem do
uso de personagens super arquetípicos, que remetem aos
mitos religiosos e ao teatro folclórico. O público indiano
espera ver esses personagens arquetípicos, ainda que os
limites de alguns desses papéis tenham mudado em anos recentes
- sobretudo dos papéis das atrizes, que se tornaram muito
mais independentes.
http://www.cinemaindiano.com/2011/03/bollywood-pra-iniciantes-licao-2.html
Bollywood Character Archetypes: The Hero
By far the most important figure in Bollywood films is
the hero. At his most basic, the hero is the leading man
of any given film but more importantly, he is a mirror for
the audience. Bollywood fans don't ask a favorite genre,
they ask who your favorite hero is and your answer tells
a lot about your identity as a film fan.
The hero takes the audience on a journey from childhood
to adulthood, from order to chaos. This means he is always
a young man - although the actors who play heroes often
aren't, leading to the quintessential Bollywood phenomenon
of 40+ actors playing college students and naifs. Fans take
it in stride that these men play characters who still live
at home with their mothers or who are a good 20 years older
than their college classmate/romantic interest. (You actually
do get used to it.) The hero's journey can be one of addressing
past wrongs, addressing current inequalities, vanquishing
evil, or a simple playing out of fate through romantic love.
He will always get the girl and he will always triumph over
wrong-doers, even if that triumph is purely moral. Most
importantly, the hero learns his place in the community
and how to be a productive member of the wider world. He's
like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo combined into one incredible
man. This may all sound very formulaic, and it is, to an
extent, but there are hundreds of shades of hero - as many
as there are actors to play him.
Another thing that keeps the hero from becoming stale
is the fact that actors' off-screen lives often bleed into
their on-screen personas. In fact, leading men are usually
just referred to as heroes instead of actors in the press.
For example, in this quote, producer/director Subhash Ghai
is discussing the casting of some new films:
My film will be shot in a 40- day schedule and finished
by Jan 2007 for a March release. I am introducing a new
hero Anurag Sinha, a trained actor and diploma holder from
FTII. Anil Kapoor will play the stellar role in the film.
The film is titled Black and White, a small budget movie
under Mukta Search Light. I will also direct a big -budget
movie with Salman Khan and two heroines and one more hero
to go on the floor in May 2007.
(Taken from this 2006 piece; emphasis added by me -
and that first film Black and White is actually really
good.)
These men are heroes, they don't just play them
on-screen.
Bollywood has developed a whole vocabulary for
dealing with heroes. The ideal hero is the masala hero,
who is supposed to be good at everything from fighting
to being patriotic to romancing the leading lady to
busting out some fresh dance moves, but just like
regular people, heroes all have their specialities. A
young, fresh-faced hero who specializes in romantic
roles is called a chocolate hero (or sometimes chocolate
boy.) The term comes from a time when handsome pictures
of men used to decorate boxes of chocolate and there is
a bit of a negative implication to it. A chocolate hero
may be popular with the ladies but he is usually seen as
nothing more than a pretty face and any film starring a
chocolate hero is going to have a heavy romance focus.
Other heroes you will encounter are the evergreen hero
- referring to a hero in his 40s (and possibly even his
50s and beyond). The most famous evergreen hero is Dev Anand,
who is often just referred to as Evergreen Dev Anand. The
man is in his 80s today and still making movies with nubile
young actresses. There is also the Angry Young Man, a phrase
originally applied to Amitabh Bachchan (aka The Big B) for
a series of films he did in the 1970s where he played an
angry young man who extracted vigilante justice on mob bosses
and government officials. An art-house hero does mostly
what we in the West call indie cinema and you can also find
a tragic hero, who is very similar to our own Western tragic
heroes like Hamlet and Macbeth.
Not just any Average Rajesh can wander in off the street
and audition for a role, a hero must be launched - not like
a rocket ship but like a brand - and a lot of money and
promotion goes into a new hero launch because the bigger
a splash the hero makes, the quicker he can win a fan following
and start generating massive profits for his backers. And
depending on how powerful an actor's father is, if a launch
flops he will get re-launched with a new persona. A good
example of this is the launch and re-launch (and re-re-launch)
of Harman Baweja. Harman Baweja is the son of Bollywood
producer Harry Baweja and in 2008, Harman was launched in
a film called Love Story 2050, a big-budget sci-fi extravaganza.
The film was designed as a showcase for Harman as a masala
hero and, thanks to daddy's money and connections, he was
hyped and promoted as the next big thing, even signing on
to other projects before the film had even released. Unfortunately
for the Bawejas, the film failed to connect with audiences
and Harman was quietly dropped from many of the films he
had signed. Fast forward one year and Harman - who had changed
his name to Hurman for numerology reasons and then back
to Harman when Hurman didn't prove any luckier - had another
chance to make a splash with an artsy romantic comedy titled
What's Your Rashee. Sadly, this re-launch as a chocolate
boy also failed but Harman is getting one more chance this
year with It's My Life.
Less well-connected actors can get their starts as the
secondary hero which is sometimes softened to parallel lead
(meaning the actor isn't the protagonist but isn't going
to admit that he's playing a supporting role). Sometimes
the secondary hero provides comic relief and sometimes he
is just there to amp up the action, give the ladies a pretty
face to look at, or to add emotional resonance by dying
at the right time. Films with two heroes are called, yes,
two hero films. Add another hero and you get a multi-starrer.
The 1970s were a golden age of two hero films and
multi-starrers. One of the most beloved is a film called
Amar Akbar Anthony which stars three of the biggest
heroes of the time - Amitabh Bachchan, Rishi Kapoor, and
Vinod Khanna - as brothers who are separated at a young
age and who, through the course of the film, find
girlfriends, reunite with each other, save their parents
from evil doers, and kick some bad guy butt. The
secondary hero tag isn't a kiss of death, although some
actors ego's might disagree and many charismatic
secondary heroes and parallel leads have stepped up to
become solo heroes.
Tune in next time to find out about the hero's
girlfriend... the Heroine!
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-3.html
Bollywood Character Archetypes: The Heroine
While popular Indian cinema is very much focused on the
hero, this doesn't have to mean that his female counterpart,
the heroine, is doomed to a career of smiling and looking
pretty. The best heroines go toe-to-toe with the heroes
and can even steal scenes right out from under their noses.
And every Bollywood film simply must have a heroine; she
doesn't need to be on screen very long but she must be there.
At her most basic the heroine has two jobs - to look
pretty and to fall in love with the hero. But if the actress
is popular enough (or lucky enough), she may also get her
own storyline and motivations. She can be attempting to
solve the murder of her beloved sister (Teesri Manzil, 1966),
running away from a murderous husband and joining a gypsy
clan (Caravan, 1971), following her dream to become a famous
dancer (Rangeela, 1995), or just dealing with life in the
big city (Wake Up Sid, 2009).
Indian culture is still more sexually conservative than
Western culture and until fairly recently, heroines were
neither expected nor encouraged to be overtly sexy. They
were expected to be pretty, yes, but they had to appeal
to both the men and the women watching in the audience and
a Megan Fox-type of girl would not fly with grandma. Sometimes
films would skirt around this convention by having a girl
be somewhat sexy at first only to renounce her jeans and
(through subtext) loose Western ways when she falls in love
with the hero. The classic example is the 1970 film Purab
aur Paschim (literally translated to "East and West")
where heroine Saira Banu flits around in a blond beehive
and mini-skirt for most of the film but then switches to
a demure sari once she gives herself over to the hero. It's
only been within the last 10 years or so that heroines have
really become as sexualized in films as leading ladies are
in Hollywood and only in the last two or three that they
have been expected to have that time-honored American institution
- the bikini body.
Heroines are launched just like heroes are but they don't
have the same expectations weighing on them because they
don't stay in the industry for as long. A popular hero can
stretch his career well into his 40s and even into his early
50s before switching over to character roles but heroines
tend to have an expiration date of about 30. While this
seems a bit unfair, it has to do with the way popular Bollywood
films are structured. The heroine is almost always a young,
unmarried girl and a 30+ year old woman can't be expected
to retain a virginal and girlish aura. For whatever reason,
audiences are able to swallow a 40+ male naif but can't
buy a 30+ female virgin. But this doesn't mean that there
are no roles for women over 30 in Bollywood. There are the
time-honored roles of saintly mother and her evil counterparts
- the mother in law and the stepmother. Plus, there is the
sexually desirable vamp - and her close kin the item girl
- who is almost always an older woman. To give a recent
example from Dabangg (2010), heroine Sonakshi Sinha is 23
but Malaika Aroa Khan, the item girl who drove all the men
crazy with lust, is 37. I'll discuss all of these archetypes
in later posts.
Because the lifespan of a heroine is so much shorter
than that of a hero, most heroines do not loom as large
in the popular imagination as heroes do. There are
exceptions like the tragedy queen Meena Kumari who
played the leading lady up and until her death from
cirrhosis of the liver at age 39 but they are few and
far between. The flip-side of this is that if a pretty
but only mildly talented girl catches the public
attention in a hit film, she can string a short career
out of it and then marry a wealthy businessman. Pretty
but talentless heroes don't make it further than a
single flop.
One other interesting point about heroines - while
the public image of the heroine on film has to be
immaculate, the profession of acting has traditionally
had a seedy undertone related to both rumors of the
casting couch and prostitution. While there has been a
long tradition of popular heroes passing the torch to
their sons, daughters were not encouraged to enter the
film industry. And on the occasions when heroes married
their heroines, the heroines were strongly encouraged to
retire. Again, within the last few years or so, this has
been slowly changing. Among other things, Bollywood now
has two or three daughters of famous heroes taking up
the family business and one of the most bankable
heroines in Bollywood is a married woman whose biggest
hits are with heroes who are not her husband.
Because I know that discussion of women's roles in media
can be a tricky subject, let me emphasize that this post
is talking about mass entertainment. There were and are
a variety of different and sometimes excellent roles for
women in films with less mass appeal, such as middle class
socials and art house films - but those women aren't heroines,
they are actresses. Actresses may try their hand at playing
heroine every once in a while but with rare exceptions,
the skill sets needed to be a popular entertainer don't
really overlap with those needed to be a good actress. The
same is true for actors, too, of course, but I find that
media critics don't often complain about hero's role being
one-dimensional or silly but will complain about the heroine's.
To be sure, no matter the film, there is a good chance
the heroine is going to be subject to some regressive gender
politics but coming from outside the Indian culture it's
important that we Westerners make sure not to impose our
ideas of women's roles on Bollywood. That's not to say that
we should excuse really awful tropes - like the old chestnut
of having a woman kill herself if her honor (izzat) is ruined
- but that we try to put aside our cultural ideals when
settling in to watch a film. I'll give an example, I'm sure
we're all familiar with the idea that Indians have arranged
marriages. Now, our first instinct is be indignant - our
culture tells us that marriage is supposed to come from
a place of romantic love instead of the romantic love growing
afterwards as is the ideal in an arranged marriage. There
are films where a heroine gives up her romantic suitor in
order to have an arranged marriage with a man she doesn't
know - and these films can have happy endings. It is the
opposite of how it would happen in Hollywood but keep an
open mind and you can come to appreciate that these heroines
usually end up very satisfied to have made the choice for
family over romance.
The nature of the role of heroines in Bollywood films
sometimes seems like one step forward and two steps back
but she will always be here and she will always be smiling.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-4.html
Character Archetypes: MOM and POP aka MAA-BAP
One of the biggest differences between Bollywood films
and Hollywood films is the inclusion of family. Evil stepmothers,
power-mad uncles, greedy brothers-in-law, frivolous sisters-in-law,
and good-for-nothing siblings all have their place in the
Bollywood pantheon. Looming large over them all, however,
are the parents. While maa (mom) is usually fairly saintly,
pita-ji (respected father) can be anything from cold and
calculating to a benign layabout to a well-loved patriarch.
The stereotype of the saintly Indian mother is that
she can do no wrong and if she does do wrong
accidentally - such as the mother of the hero in Trishul
(1978) who has a baby out of wedlock because the father
was weak-willed and refused to go through on his promise
to marry her - you can be sure she will be redeemed with
a saintly death. Mothers, dressed in demure white saris,
haunt the lives of Bollywood heroes. A hero will do
anything for his mother because he knows that his mother
will do anything for him, including give up her life.
Mothers will work their fingers to the bone to support
their sons and then use those same fingers to feed their
sons dinner. Mothers will always stick up for their sons
and even if they will ultimately defer to the patriarch
on important matters, you know that a Bollywood mother
can be counted out to sneak food or money to her
good-for-nothing son. Even when the saintly mother is
not present, her absence will be used to explain why the
hero is a rough-edged as he is - because if a man
doesn't have his mother, he doesn't have anybody.
Although Bollywood, like Hollywood, can be hung up on
feminine youth and beauty, the inclusion of a mother
character in so many films has led to second and third
winds in the careers of former heroines (and former
vamps). The actresses age with their audience and women
who grew up seeing Jaya Bhaduri woo the big heroes of
the day, now see her playing the mother to sons much
like their own.
Saintly maa does have an evil counterpart: the evil stepmother.
Sometimes, this is softened to just an evil female guardian,
such as an evil aunt. Like their fairytale counterparts,
these selfish women will stop at nothing to ruin their charges'
lives - whether it is forcing them into terrible arranged
marriages, stealing their inheritances, or even murder.
One thing to watch out for with evil family members is that
they tend to be brought back into the fold at the end of
the film. The love of a son (or less often, daughter) can
and will melt the coldest of hearts. While this may seem
a bit odd to people raised in Disney fairy tales like Cinderella,
where the evil stepmother is punished, I find the idea that
nobody - not even the shrillest of evil stepmothers - should
be thrown away as worthless to be very refreshing and, dare
I say it, heartwarming.
Fathers can be good or bad. Bumbling fathers who make
bad business deals or who get caught up in gambling and
debt are the plot movers for a whole spate of films. These
incompetent fathers force daughters into performing cabaret
or into joining a gang to earn money or they can force sons
to try and clear the family name. In recent years, the theme
of generation clash has entered the Bollywood father-child
relationship. Sons and daughters who had been willing to
sacrifice true love for an arranged marriage are now standing
up to their parents, who don't understand the new-fangled
ways of their children. This generation clash is usually
played out in the greater NRI (non-resident Indian) community
and usually ends with either the parents coming around to
respect the choice of the children or with the children
finding that their parents are right and falling in love
with their arranged match. Sometimes both happen in the
same film, such as the trend-setting multi-starrer Dil Chahta
Hai (2001).
The inclusion of parents (and extended family) in Bollywood
is so expected that not having parents in the film is a
noteworthy thing. The marketing campaign for 2005's Salaam-Namaste
featured the two lead actors Preity Zinta and Saif Ali Khan
having a discussion about what the film was about:
Saif: [To Preity] Do you want to say a few things about
this one that make it different? Preity: Well, it's a love
story. Saif: [sarcastically] Oh. That's different. Preity:
It's the story about a boy and a girl. Saif: [sarcastically]
That's even more different.
[They bicker for a few seconds about who will be talking.]
Saif: What kind of promotion is this? You're saying girl
and boy meet. They fall in love. Pehle milte hai [first
they meet] and then they hate each other initially. And
then they sing a song. Then they start liking each other.
And then they want to get married and the families get involved
and the mother and fa- Preity: No, wait! There is no family.
There is no mummy, no papa… Saif: No Sass-Bahu [mother-in-law-daughter-in-law],
Maa-Bap [mother-father] Tension? Preity: No. Saif: Then
where is the drama?
Even though the Hollywood-inspired romantic-comedy
genre has taken off in recent years, that maa-bap
tension is still very much a part of a lot of the films
and you should expect that the parents' wishes will be
respected in the end. So, if you remember nothing else
from this section, remember this: in Bollywood, mother
is always right and father's permission will be gained
in the end.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-5.html
Character Archetype: The Vamp
While heroines are like mayflies, living for brief
bursts of glory and maa is in the background standing
stoically in her white sari, vamps demand the audience's
attention with their brazen attitudes, revealing
outfits, and what can politely be called the oomph
factor. The vamp is the funhouse mirror image of the
heroine and is not much used in Bollywood anymore
although she is alive and well down South (just click on
the link above for a look at one of my favorite vamps).
Before the heroine become so sexualized, the vamp,
traditionally, was the woman who used sex to tempt the
hero away from the righteous path laid out for him.
Vamps, ironically, have a much longer lifespan than
their good twins the heroine because while virginity is
lost early, sensuality knows no age limits! (Helen,
considered the best of the best, vamped her way through
three generations of heroes before turning to character
roles. She performed one of her most famous songs,
"Yeh Mera Dil," when she was about 40 years
old.)
As you may have guessed, in the early years of
Bollywood, the Madonna/Whore dichotomy was very much on
display in women's roles. Vamps were in all ways were
the opposite of the wholesome heroines and one important
marker of that in the early years of Bollywood was that
vamps were not Indian. Not only were the actresses who
played vamps fair-skinned and "exotic" looking
(like half-French, half-Burmese Helen or Jewish Nadira)
but heroines had homespun names like Sana, Pooja, and
Asha, vamps were often given names like Miss Ruby or
Miss Kitty - exotic and decadent Western names. This
allowed filmmakers to add razzle-dazzle without
sexualizing the Indian woman, who, for better or worse,
was one of the symbols of the Indian Independence
movement (see the 1958 film Mother India for the most
famous example). So, heroines wore traditional outfits
like saris and salwaar-kameez and kept fully covered
from collar bone to ankle; vamps wore spangly tights and
miniskirts or elaborate, brightly colored evening
dresses and accessorized with peacock feathers, glitter,
and blond wigs. Heroines pined stoically (sometimes
through song) for the heroes to realize their true
feelings while vamps actively seduced. A heroine might
do something bad for the sake of her family - like
infiltrate a gang of thieves - but vamps do bad things
for selfish romance or for personal profit.
Vamps are creatures of fantasy - for men to drool
over and for women to vicariously live through - but in
the end, the vamp's selfish and non-Indian ways always
result in her downfall. As cultural mores have loosened,
the vamp has remained a favorite character in popular
imagination. The weeping, demure heroines may have won
the men in those old and earnest films but it's Helen
the H-Bomb who has become the national icon. And quite a
few films would have been totally forgotten without the
cabaret set pieces called "item numbers"
performed by the vamps or the vamps' close relative, the
item girl, who appeared in films solely to dance in
skimpy and outrageous costumes.
And let me give a brief word on item numbers, which
I'll discuss in fuller detail in a later post when I get
to the different song styles. One of the many things
that can confuse beginning Bollywood viewers is this
idea of the item girl who saunters in for one song and
then leaves. The easiest way to understand it is to
think of these songs like the guest spots that bands
sometimes do on TV shows, for example, Jesse from Full
House calling up the Beach Boys to come in a play a
song. Item numbers are like that - songs that zazz up a
movie without having anything at all do to with the main
story or characters. The Beach Boys never stick around
to see how DJ and Stephanie resolve a fight and item
girls are similarly unconcerned with the plot of the
film.
While the vamp is not much used these days, she does
make an occasional appearance as the bitchy and high
maintenance third point of a romantic triangle or even
more rarely as a femme fatale. But the high-quality
vamping petered out during the 1980s and 1990s 1970s as
a casualty of the growing acceptance of a heroine's own
sexual identity.
Miss Ruby and Miss Kitty may have lost to the
homespun Pooja yet again but somehow this time I don't
think they would mind.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-6.html
Character Archetype: The Comedian
A big part of paisa-vasool (filmi speak for getting
your money's worth) is comedy and the comedian is there
to provide it. Remembering Bollywood's roots in popular
folk theater, you can think of the comedian as the
jester of a film. Masala films have what is called a
"comedy track" - a comic subplot that may or
may not intersect with the main story. A recent example
is the 2008 blockbuster Race, which had a comedy track
that followed a wacky fruit-obsessed policeman in his
attempts to catch the heroes. But along with vamps, this
comedy track has mostly vanished from contemporary
Bollywood films (although it's still very much present
in contemporary South Indian mass market films) but it
still does pop up from time to time in current films
(like Race) and is very present in films from before the
2000s, so it's still worth our time to understand the
whys and hows of the comedian.
Comedians are a special type of actor employed
especially in the comedy track. Their job is to make you
laugh and to provide some levity in what might otherwise
be very serious or violent or sappy films. Humor is
subjective and some humor found in Bollywood films is
not subtle by any means and contemporary Western viewers
might find some of the humor to be too crass. For
example, yesteryears comic actress Tun Tun, whose main
gag was being fat, might show up as the daughter of the
gardener who is in love with an equally unusual-looking
gentleman such as a little person or, always my
favorite, the secondary hero. While there is nothing
subtle about having a mystery woman pull back her veil
to reveal… Tun Tun, comedy tracks don't have to be
stupid, even if there is a tendency in Bollywood films
towards broad humor that relies on physical comedy,
sight gags, and riffing on ethnic stereotypes.
A comic subplot squeezes around the main narrative,
like if The Dark Knight had a running bit featuring
comic actor Danny McBride as a mechanic who sported a
plumber's crack and was always comically annoyed at the
state the batmobiles were returned in. While it seems
like an odd fit on the surface, the presence of comedy
doesn't detract from serious topics and having a buffoon
crack a joke at the right time gives the audience a
chance to rest before plunging them into more despair.
Comedy is the tool used to prevent fatigue so audiences
can enjoy a 3 hour film on a serious topic without
getting burned out - like I did during The Dark Knight.
A comedian can also be used to poke fun at the hero
to reveal other aspects of his personality - so in our
example, Danny McBride's good-natured ribbing might have
made Bruce Wayne snap in anger, showing us that he takes
himself far too seriously. In these cases, the comedian
isn't just a buffoon, he or she is a sounding board.
Comedians had their heyday in the 1940s through 1960s
but as the 1970s dawned and the two-hero film became
more popular, the comedy track was often left to one of
the heroes. For example, top hero Dharmendra played the
comedian with a well-loved drunk routine in the 1975
two-hero film Sholay. Still, the dedicated comedian
didn't die out completely and comedy roles are still an
integral if not as visible part of Bollywood today.
However, in today's Bollywood, comedic roles today are
usually taken by one of the many talented character
actors who play all sorts of minor roles in Bollywood
instead of dedicated comics.
You do also find straight comedy films in Bollywood
but in a nice reverse of the masala trope, these will
often have a moment or two of bittersweet pathos to
balance out all the comedy.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-7.html
Character Archetype: The Villain
Like the comedian and the vamp, the villain is
another character mostly on the wane in Bollywood. Even
so, he (and they are mostly 'he') has a long and storied
history; after all, the hero's triumph is only as big as
the villain he defeats.
Villains are tied to the times and different eras
will give you different types of villains. Typical
villains could be anyone from a capitalist fat cat
trying to squeeze every last penny from the hard working
village folk to a rural dacoit (bandit) with a penchant
for threatening rape to an evil scientist with a lair
full of robots and almost anything in between. Recently,
as corruption scandals percolate through society, evil
politicians have become the go-to villain, featuring in
some of 2010's biggest hits.
Sometimes the villains are killed, sometimes they are
sent to jail, and sometimes they are reintegrated back
into the community. This last ending is one of the
things that stands out in Bollywood storytelling and is
one of the most difficult for Western audiences to
grasp. For a good example of how this can work, take a
look at Star Wars: Return of the Jedi where we see the
smiling face of Anakin Skywalker aka Darth Vader at the
very end, all of his past ills forgotten in the joy of
his reintegration into the community. And Bollywood
villains, especially when they are family members, are
encouraged to re-enter the community. Evil stepmothers
become regular stepmothers when they discover how much
their stepchildren have always loved and respected them.
Evil brother-in-laws become regular brother-in-laws when
they recognize the true worth of the hero and the
audience is left with a warm feeling of community and
forgiveness.
One of the interesting things about the actors who
play villains is that they almost always exclusively
play villains. This means that once the audience spots a
beloved villainous actor in a film, they are almost
always guaranteed that the character he is playing is
going to be up to no good. So, if an actor like Amjad
Khan, who was known for his villainous roles, shows up
as a judge, you are guaranteed that the character is
going to be a crooked judge, even if that information
doesn't reveal itself to the hero right away. So, just
by the choices in casting, a filmmaker can give his
audience important plot information - information that
will pass by an uninformed viewer. Where a Western
viewer might see a sudden change of motivation or
inconsistent characterization, the Bollywood fan knew
from the beginning that the judge was up to no good…
because he was played by Amjad Khan! This method of
conveying information by the cast alone is just one more
of the many reasons that Western viewers can't just jump
into Bollywood and expect to understand it.
(The expectation can also be subverted. A crafty
filmmaker can mislead audiences on purpose by casting a
washed-up hero as a villain or by casting a villain in a
role that ends up being "good.")
Like vamps and comedians and other character actors,
a scenery-chewing villain can sometimes overshadow a
weak or forgettable hero but the greatest villains
squared off against the greatest heroes. Here are few of
the most memorable - the Darth Vaders of Bollywood:
* In the 1987 film Mr. India stars Anil Kapoor
(Slumdog Millionaire) as the mustachioed hero who
discovers a secret formula that will turn anybody
invisible. He has a big showdown with the ultra-evil
Magambo (Amrish Puri, known in the West for Indiana
Jones and the Temple of Doom) who has a tricked-out
lair, henchmen out the wazoo, and a snazzy catchphrase
that will win you a couple of chuckles in any South
Asian gathering: "Magambo khush hua."
("Magambo is pleased." Magambo likes to speak
about himself in the third person.)
* Sholay (1975) is one of the benchmark films in
Bollywood for a number of reasons and one of those is
the sadistic dacoit Gabbar Singh (played by the late,
great Amjad Khan). Gabbar Singh, prone to wielding his
belt like a whip and strutting around like he owns the
joint, is the source of numerous popular quotes
("Kitne aadmi thi?") and looms large over the
entire film.
· From the 1940s until the early 1970s, when he
switched to character roles, there was a big chance that
any villain you came across would be played by the actor
Pran. He had a regal nose and expressive eyes and
enjoyed dressing up in costume. Famously, Pran never
took the same look for a film twice. He played preppie
blond drunks, greedy brothers-in-law, whip-wielding land
owners, gangsters, grifters, and scuzzballs. Any time
audiences saw "… and Pran" in the opening
credits, they knew they were in for a good show.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-8.html
Songs and Music: What's the deal with all those
songs in Bollywood?
Let's get one thing straight - the use of music in
Western films is no more realistic than in Bollywood
films. Previously recorded songs used as part of a
background score are not only an accepted convention in
Western film but soundtrack albums of previously
recorded music assembled by filmmakers like Wes Anderson
and Quentin Tarantino earn lots of money and praise.
Now, just take a step from those assembled soundtrack
albums to songs written for a film - like Henry
Mancini's "Moon River" written for Breakfast
at Tiffany's. We're still okay with that, right? It's
not that far of a mental leap from "Moon
River" to a Bollywood score but I've found that the
most consistently misunderstood aspect of Bollywood
(and, indeed, all popular Indian cinema) is the way
lip-synced songs are used within the narrative of the
film.
American viewers in particular tend to find this an
almost insurmountable obstacle to appreciating Bollywood
films on their own merits. While music has always been
an essential part of Western filmmaking, the problem
that American viewers have with accepting lip-synced
songs in a film seems to stem from the American
stereotype regarding the genre of 'musicals,' which is
our only cultural exposure to the use of lip-synced
songs in film. Even though TV shows like Glee are now
making an impact on popular culture, musicals are still
generally seen as being exclusively for women and gay
men and considering the majority of film writers are
straight men and the big cultural taboo against straight
men liking anything that could be considered even
remotely effeminate, you can see why Bollywood has been
ignored by the Western film community even as mass
entertainment from places like China (kung fu and wuxia
films) and Japan (anime) has been embraced. I hope my
series can help clear up some misconceptions in this
area and make it okay for those musical-haters to
reconsider the Bollywood film.
The (much-maligned) American movie musical is a
completely different beast from Bollywood film. For one
thing, there is some truth to the idea that movie
musicals are all sugar and happy endings. Many (if not
most) movie musicals are adapted from Broadways shows
and unfortunately the heyday of the musical corresponded
with the heyday of the Hays Code. This means that most
adult content - not just sex but anything considered
unwholesome, like social commentary - was expunged.
This is not true of Bollywood. While films do have to
pass through a Censor Board (which, despite the name,
actually acts like an officially sanctioned version of
the MPAA Ratings Board) and explicit references to
things like sex are going to be snipped if a film is to
have an all-ages certificate, films can and do discuss a
wide variety of serious issues - using lip-synced songs.
Let me give you a couple of examples, the film Roti
Kapada aur Makaan (Food, Clothes, and Shelter, 1974) is,
among other things, a tough look at how the drive to
stay out of poverty can lead a person to an immoral
life. It has songs in which the actors lip sync and it
also has a really disturbing rape scene and a
bittersweet ending. Dil Se (From the Heart, 2000) is an
intense film about terrorism. It has songs where the
actors lip sync; it also has explosions and tough social
commentary.
So, if we can accept that the content of Bollywood
films is not all cheerful or what we might consider
'family-friendly' and the endings to the films are
sometimes really unpleasant, that still leaves Western
film buffs with a lingering sense that the addition of
lip-synced songs somehow makes a film unrealistic and I
would like to address that. Hollywood studio heads in
the 1930s were concerned that film audiences would not
understand the idea of characters expressing their
feelings through song, so they made the decision to
avoid that trope as much as possible. This mean that
most of these adapted Broadway shows I discussed earlier
had to be reworked to put the songs into settings where
they were being explicitly performed - which led to
things like the 'Let's Put on a Show' genre (e.g.
Holiday Inn starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire.)*
But, unfortunately, this also meant that when a
character did express themselves through song in a movie
musical, that character was actually singing in the
reality of the film. Anyone with a passing familiarity
with movie musicals can think of scenes where a
character stands alone in an empty theater and sings his
or her heart out - only to be startled when somebody
overhears the song. In other words, in movie musicals,
characters do burst into song but Bollywood films do not
work like this. **
While some Bollywood songs do take place at festivals
or stage shows that show the characters really singing,
other songs function more like a soliloquy out of a
Shakespeare play. The songs are designed to express a
character's inner feelings in a metaphorical way. Where
in a Hollywood film, a film might show a couple falling
in love using a montage of different scenes set to a
classic rock song, in Bollywood, the experience would be
shown in a metaphorical way and the couple might be
shown singing a duet in a lush meadow in Europe. Indian
audiences implicitly understand that the couple has not
actually been teleported to Switzerland or The
Netherlands. The fantasy location and the song are
designed to show how that first blush of love feels to
the people involved.
And if you think about it, a lip-synced duet is
really no less realistic than a montage of that same
couple set to "I Can't Help Falling in Love With
You." All narrative film uses unrealistic
conventions to tell a story - even Dogme 95. Editing,
background scores, special effects… and
falling-in-love montages do not happen in real life but
we have learned to ignore the artifice of the tools to
appreciate the stories told. The only difference between
those things and Bollywood songs is that is that Western
viewers understand how a montage works but have no
experience with the Bollywood song form.
I'll be discussing other aspects of Bollywood songs
through this week to help you understand the finer
points of the Bollywood song.
*(And for more information on Broadway shows being
hacked to pieces for Hollywood adaptations, please
consult the amazing book Through The Screen Door by
Thomas Hischak.)
** A second note - if you think about Oscar Award
winning Chicago, the film went out of its way to show
that all the songs were fantasy sequences in the
characters' minds. And while made-for-TV High School
Musical 1 and HSM 2 were done with a few soliloquy-style
songs, when High School Musical 3 was sent to movie
theaters, the film very deliberately had the songs set
on stage where we could see the characters actually
singing.
http://filmigirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/bollywood-for-beginners-post-9.html
|