The Indians have a saying, which they express often along with their characteristic head bob--"why not?"-- and it seems very apt to the "fuck-it" concept which is such a welcome addition to my life at present. In keeping with the spirit of "why not?" I decided to take Brant to an Indian movie the other night-- all in Hindi with no subtitles. Why not?
The movie, "Rab De Bana di Jodi", has been a big hit in India, and was so thoroughly weird, that we decided to take Michael a few days later, watching the movie in it's entirety for the second time. This is no small feat, given the fact that Indian movies, mostly produced in Mumbai--or "Bollywood" as it's known abroad, tend to last no less that 3 hours and encompass all genres from comedy to action to romance to musical--all in the same movie. The first time Brant and I went in Delhi, the theatre was packed and the audience reacted to every scene with a boo or an excited yelp or some other interjection, as if these were live players and not celluloid bits of film distributed worldwide. In the end, we didn't have the patience to sit past the intermission, so we missed the climactic ending, thinking the film exceedingly predictable, rendering an ending simply unnecessary. Days later, we would regret this choice and elect to attend one more time, and this time sit the thing out. After all, Indian movies are anything but predictable since the movie starts with a tragic death and then quickly becomes a comedy. Maybe everyone will get machine gunned to death by terrorists in the end, we think.
Or should I say.... we hope. "These characters are ridiculous" Michael notices immediately. I wonder what it was that made him say that. Was it the male protagonists who bursts into song upon receiving a lunchbox from his new wife? Was it the female protagonist who doesn't recognize her husband in a clever disguise consisting of styled hair and sunglasses? I'll never know.
A word on the plot-- it concerns a young man who works for an electric company (Punjab Power-- lighting up your life) who is desperately in love with..... his wife. She doesn't share his sentiments though, as this is an arranged marriage in the traditional Indian fashion. She feels bound to the union because of her father's deathbed wish, so she grudgingly proceeds with the whole thing while he tries desperately to impress her. One of his desperate attempts to win her fancy is signing up for a dance competition which she has entered and disguising himself carefully with wedgie tight jeans, J-lo sunglasses and spikey hair. It was a good disguise apparently, because when he becomes his wife's dance partner by the luck of the draw, she doesn't recognize him.
A word on characters-- he's a nerd who has a Saddam Hussein mustache, glasses, pocket protector, and hair combed in a neat part down the center of his Clark Kent-like dome. His friend is an ambiguously gay boy like from "la cage aux folles" or something whose dealings with the protagonist verge on homo-erotic but probably go unnoticed in India where they have made being gay illegal and thus assume that everyone is totally straight, ignoring all indications to the contrary. Like man on man dryhumping that masquerades as humorous "dance practice." She is a beautiful but vacuous traditional Indian girl who doesn't recognize her husband in his metro-sexual disguise but cock-blocks him (pardon the expression) because she's married to him. By virtue of her beauty, she is also allowed to be so horribly inscrutable that everyone in the audience looks shocked whenever she does something. Pretty girls can get away with that sort of shit, even in India.
The whole thing is reminiscent of that terrible 70's song about liking pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. I'm sure they're into Yoga though, unlike the song. Nonetheless, every American should be as familiar with the plot as they are with the many Hindi-English (Hinglish) eक्स्प्रेस्सिओंस ठाट expressions that decorate the movie like polka-dots on a fat man. Some of the more interesting Hinglish expressions from the film, which I took note of much to the chagrin of the man to my left, included: you know how these people are; mention not it; never say goodbye, always sayक्ष्प्रेस्सिओन्स ठाट ऍक्स्प्रॅशन ; no flirting; last chance; never fear Raj is here; yellow yellow dirty fellow; dance and romance 5,6,7, 8; it's all yours; dirty bitch; mind your tongue; and my favorite "I can't take it anymore."
Which pretty much describes our sentiments after about 2 and a half hours.
A word on culture-- Since we understand neither the language nor the folkways that inform Indian cinema, we have to continually guess at meaning. I assume that the female protagonist in the movie is falling in love with the "hot" version of her husband, but she is struggling to remain faithful to the Steve Urkel version because of the culture she lives in which is extremely sexually conservative. It's so sexually conservative that they simply assume that there will be no infidelity. This frees them from the poisonous prison of jealousy and suspicion, or so I assume from watching this movie. In one scene, the female protagonist comes home and tells her husband that she will not be sharing the meal she has prepared for him because she has just had an eating contest with her dance partner (also her husband--are you following this ok?) and is no longer hungry. To continue the ruse, dork husband has to sit through the meal and act as he is enjoying the food even though he too has just stuffed 50 somosas down his maw to celebrate their dance victory (as his alter ego- and therefore unrecognizable now). This sets up a bit of comedy as he then goes down and lays on the bed and groans for a very long time at his over-stuffed belly. The interesting thing though, is how husband and wife are able to openly talk about what essentially would amount to infidelity in a westernized culture (just because of the possibility for sex to follow). I find it interesting that the woman in the movie makes no attempt to conceal her relationship with her dance partner (which is way too intimate for comfort) simply because it's so unspeakable that she would cheat on her husband. This is of course entirely a huge assumption on my part, since most of the time I have no idea what's going on in this movie.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching this film. Not because of the film itself, that part was absolute nonsense, but because of the experience of inventing an explanation for the events as the film progressed. I had no idea what was going on moment to moment, so I had no choice but to construct reality as I went. This led me to a profound realization about myself-- that I simply prefer my version of the truth to the actual truth which is perhaps more true.
Which pretty much describes our sentiments after about 2 and a half hours.
A word on culture-- Since we understand neither the language nor the folkways that inform Indian cinema, we have to continually guess at meaning. I assume that the female protagonist in the movie is falling in love with the "hot" version of her husband, but she is struggling to remain faithful to the Steve Urkel version because of the culture she lives in which is extremely sexually conservative. It's so sexually conservative that they simply assume that there will be no infidelity. This frees them from the poisonous prison of jealousy and suspicion, or so I assume from watching this movie. In one scene, the female protagonist comes home and tells her husband that she will not be sharing the meal she has prepared for him because she has just had an eating contest with her dance partner (also her husband--are you following this ok?) and is no longer hungry. To continue the ruse, dork husband has to sit through the meal and act as he is enjoying the food even though he too has just stuffed 50 somosas down his maw to celebrate their dance victory (as his alter ego- and therefore unrecognizable now). This sets up a bit of comedy as he then goes down and lays on the bed and groans for a very long time at his over-stuffed belly. The interesting thing though, is how husband and wife are able to openly talk about what essentially would amount to infidelity in a westernized culture (just because of the possibility for sex to follow). I find it interesting that the woman in the movie makes no attempt to conceal her relationship with her dance partner (which is way too intimate for comfort) simply because it's so unspeakable that she would cheat on her husband. This is of course entirely a huge assumption on my part, since most of the time I have no idea what's going on in this movie.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching this film. Not because of the film itself, that part was absolute nonsense, but because of the experience of inventing an explanation for the events as the film progressed. I had no idea what was going on moment to moment, so I had no choice but to construct reality as I went. This led me to a profound realization about myself-- that I simply prefer my version of the truth to the actual truth which is perhaps more true.
1 comment:
Why are there no comments on this post? So far it's my favorite one and the most ripe for initiating conversation. I've done this before with Japanese movies, back when I was starting to learn the language. I found myself thinking the same way. In fact, I prefer my version so much that most of the time I didn't even bother to watch the movie again with subtitles. Most of the time I did, but ended up being disappointed with the actual meaning, when compared to mine. haha
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