Eklavya: The Royal Guard. Just Don't Bother

The hype has been building for the last few weeks on Eklavya – The Royal Guard. It has a star-cast to rival most “multi-starrers,” not to mention a director on the hilt known for “great” past work. Press also reported that La Tagore and Saif were replaying their real life roles on screen for the first time – a casting coup that would make cinematic history!

Recent stories in the press suggested that producer and director Vidhu Vinod Chopra of the film was sooooo impressed with the performance of his lead star, Amitabh Bachchan, that he gifted him a Rolls Royce Phantom sedan, priced at approximately 800,000 USD (after import duties). Moreover, Chopra has gone on the record saying he took five years to write the film. After watching the film, one really wonders why?

Beyond the hype of course, Chopra has – at best – been a patchy director. He has created amazing work like Parinda and Mission Kashmir, but also delivered clankers like Kareeb and half-clankers like 1942: A Love Story. But still, when a director of his stature presents a new film, especially one packed with an exciting cast – with all present having proven their star status as well as acting abilities - expectations are bound to be high.

Imagine the horror then of finding yourself with itchy palms, wishing desperately for a tokri of rotten tomatoes that you could hurl at the screen! And yes, they would have been hurled at very aesthetic images, because that is one thing Chopra knows how to get right – the plush interiors, the vast Rajasthan desert-scapes, the sun gleaming through clouds of sand. But his is a jaundiced, cynical and dated eye, missing much of the verve and edge of another recently shot-in-Rajasthan film like Dor.

So what is wrong with this movie? Well, “let me count the ways,” since Mr. Chopra is so fond of the bard that he makes Boman Iran repeat Sonnet 18 twice. In the opening sequence, an irate husband strangles his queen, after romantically reciting the aforementioned poem at her sick-bed. It could have been a great screen moment – full of shock, horror and pathos. Instead the scene is bizarrely played out: the mentally challenged daughter looks on while a be-wigged Boman Irani appears to dry-hump a-devoid-of-all-emotion-but-elegant-as-always Tigress Tagore.

Mr. Chopra, if you must have spouses strangling each other in beds, can you please take a look at the recent Omkara variation!

Next: In a post Black and Sarkar world, one expects the Big B to deliver a great performance and not regurgitate the bored attitudes of his mid-1980s bilge, but Chopra seems to get no more from the thespian than a sort of Coolie-like ennui. Yes, the Big B is dignified and noble on screen, but surely sleepwalking his own star persona around doesn’t qualify as acting? And what was that bit of humbly back out of the door, and then “Superman-takes-off” jump beyond the doorway? The entire theatre doubled up with laughter! The Big B weeps, he looks heavenwards, he holds up his hand to ward off bright lights! His tears fall in slow motion only to sizzle and evaporate on the hot train track under a scorching desert sun (see I can be as self-indulgent as Chopra!). But none of the motions add up to anything more than prettily shot but meaningless sequences.

Vidya Balan is beautiful and expressive but has little to do except simper and coddle Saif and Raima Sen at various points of the film. Raima Sen is annoying with her little-girl style, mentally challenged princess act. Parikshit Sahni has little to do, which is a shame! Saif – after proving himself with Omkara – does little more than play the pouting princeling. His constant addition of English lines destroy all possibility of drama in his scenes: “I can’t express myself” and “wait” in romantic sequences with Vidya Balan were bad enough, but when he declared that he is prepared to die and follows it up with the English, “I am ready,” the audience was in splits. Jackie Shroff and Jimmy Sheirgill (another one with an extra letter in his name!) are competent but have little to do. Sanjay Dutt provides a few (intentional for once) laughs, although there was little need for comic relief given the unintentional gaffs in performance and script.

And finally, there is the blatant Orientalism! Chopra seems to pack in every trope he can manage, in a desperate attempt to cash in on the growing international market for commercial Indian cinema. So out come the royal palaces that sit atop wretchedly poor villages; despite the revolting caste histories and apparently ongoing exploitation of farmers, the “masses” are quite happy to go back chanting “Rana ki jai” (albeit particularly disheartedly); the women in the narrative never seem to leave the household and devote their lives to being doormats, or peeking out on jharokhas and dropping silk scarves; the palace interiors seem to be lifted either from the Gujarat handicraft emporium on Delhi’s Kharag Singh Marg or from Bhansali’s kotha sets of Devdas; and just in case, you had missed the point – we get an loving aerial shot of wailing rudalis clad in pastel chiffons!

Mr. Chopra – a word of advice: stop reading circa-1998 commercial Hindi film scholarship junk! Commercial Indian cinema works internationally because it offers a counter-narrative and alternative, not because it fits into the Western stereotypes!

But in all fairness, there are a couple of scenes that reveal Chopra’s innate cinematic talent and abilities: the sequence with the pigeon is beautifully shot although a bit clichéd. The screening room sequence is interesting for its self-referentiality - a key scene from Parinda plays on the projector, although the choice of the scene suggests it was imagined by a gang of film scholars rather than the director. The innovative use of a visual black-out where sound becomes the key component is intriguing and effective, mostly because of AB’s magnificent voice. But unfortunately two scenes are not enough to save an entire film.

Sadly (and I speak as a one who watched Parinda eight times in a row when it was released!) Chopra’s best work appears to be behind him; perhaps a fate he shares with other major directors of the 1980s who can’t seem to either catch the pulse or pull of innovative scripts anymore.

For his part, the Big B would be better served in his current run to stick with younger directors who seem to extract better work from (specially by not allowing him to sleep-walk Coolie-style through their movies).

All in all – don’t bother with this one!

Shilpa-gate in Britain: What will Channel 4's CBB do now?

After a long time, I have a post. No excuses really except I have finally been working on the thesis.

And I have been watching Celebrity Big Brother – and yes, this is where my family starts to giggle uncontrollably – because it is RESEARCH! Let me explain – as a student of cinema, my doctorate looks at how films work. More specifically, I look at how commercial Hindi cinema works!

That means all those “first day, first show” scrambles are research. So is incessantly played Hindi film music in my house and office. And all the DVDs and cinema books! To quote a family member, my PhD thesis is a “Laloo-barabar scam!” Be that as it may, my thesis - for the record - is extremely scholarly and theoretical.

Going back to CBB - I began watching the show primarily to see how stars are constructed, and star narratives are built. With Shilpa Shetty entering the house, I had a perfect case study. After all here was an “unknown Bollywood star” as one British tabloid called her. The general British audiences did not know her (except of course the small minority of Hindi film fans, from South Asia and beyond) and she was going up against well-known names and faces from the West. It was the perfect scenario to answer a question that confounds me: do stars have something inherently different that makes them stars, or is their star status a function of media “spin.” Of course, it is most likely a combination of the two but Shetty was the perfect case to study. And what a case study this has been!

She stated her motivation – and thus indicated her screen persona for CBB – by explaining that she wanted to represent India and Indians as “glamorous, modern and intelligent.” So of course she arrived at the house looking radiant, in a pink sari, and proved herself supremely articulate. She emphasised her “Indian-ness” by teaching the firangis to chant “Om” and meditate, cooking Indian food, walks around in gorgeous kurtas and gold bangles, with stunning pashminas and jamawars flung about her shoulders – a picture of Indian cinema diva.

Then came the first clashes – with another “house-mate” named Jackiey (sic) who refused to pronounce her name, decided to call her “the Indian,” wondered whether the star lived in “a shack,” and threatened to “sweep her out of the kitchen with an Indian broom.”

When that particular housemate was voted out by the public, a trio of other British “chavs,” famous for rather dubious reasons “celebrities” decided to gang up on the actress. These “celebs” btw are: a foul-mouthed, pea-brained woman who apparently was ranked fourth on a prior Big Brother show; a former Miss Britain whose crown was revoked for a sex scandal involving one of the judges; and former popstar whose music is apparently unknown beyond British borders (ie, people famous for being famous!).

In the past few days, the three have mocked her accent (which I am grateful Shilpa Shetty has neither tried to adapt nor disguise), told her that she was “just the cook” while others in the house were friends, suggested that she “wanted to be white,” and finally suggested that food prepared by her was making them ill, and that Indians were “unhygienic” for a host of reasons including, eating our chicken raw, eating with our fingers (“who knows where the hands have been”), and that Indians were “thin and sick” because we all suffered from constant food poisoning from poorly cooked food.

Shetty has also been called a “dog”, “wanker” and a “fucking cunt,” (the last is still under discussion as Channel 4 chose to beep out the word and many viewers believe the word was the racist slur for Asians in general, ie, “Paki.”). Of course, she has retaliated, although with far more grace and attitude than I would have ever expected from her: “I am not patronising, look it up in the dictionary,” “It’s a name, not a frigging sentence,” etc. However many of the nasty digs have been out of her hearing.

Here it must be said that Shetty has neither backed down nor stooped to the level of the bullying trio. On the other hand, she has played the audience and the three bullies with the skill of a maestro. The softly spoken, articulate, sympathetic, tearful, and fragile-looking Shetty has managed to gain the audience’s sympathy. At the same time she manages to effortless rile up and counter the bullies. This must surely count as Shetty’s greatest performance yet!

Of course more of the narrative has unfolded beyond the boundaries of the text. From the “unknown” Bollywood star to the centre of “race row,” Shetty has managed to acquire a massive sympathetic following in Britain in days (so how is a star made again?) Press has pitched in to support her, and reaction against the racist remarks lobbed at her and her bullying have flooded Ofscom (the media watchdog body) and Channel 4. Net forums seem to be grouping to pressure the show’s main sponsor, Carphone Warehouse into pulling its support. An opportunist Keith Vaz has taken up the issue in the parliament. What a “masterful” star narrative in making! What a pleasure to watch the process (won’t bore you with the technical details of this one).

Within two weeks, Shetty has moved to occupy a volatile intersection of class, race and gender. Her mastery of English and manners (not to mention the “fabulous” lifestyle) has managed to startle and annoy the bullying trio. Her ability to attract masculine support and attention within (and outside) the house is forms the crux of sexual jealousy (bell hooks, you are SOOOO right! So much for Western "sisterhood" bs!). Finally, the race factor burst the floodgates of anger and outrage against her treatment. Channel 4’s refusal to acknowledge the racist bullying and an attempt to “spin” the abuse as having been incited by Shetty herself has worsened the situation. At the close of business (5 pm GMT) on Tuesday, media watchers had clocked 7,600 complaints lodged at Ofcom while another few thousand had been lodged directly with Channel 4.

Shetty – ironically has become the rallying point for the South Asian diaspora in Britain. While terrorism and religious fundamentalism have divided the South Asian communities in Britain on mostly national lines (Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi) over the past years, the current incident has hit viewers across the board, raising personal memories of racial abuse. Moreover, Shetty is not an unknown quantity among the diaspora – she has been a well-known, and often well-loved figure of Hindi cinema for many years and her ill-treatment by CBB housemates has been taken far more personally by viewers than imagined. Perhaps, Channel 4 had underestimated the power of Hindi cinema?

A final factor must be noted here: the internet! Although CBB is only being broadcast in Britain and Ireland, a quick search on youtube.com for “Shilpa, CBB” throws up all the necessary footage required to be outraged on Shetty’s behalf. Same goes for the heavily edited and controlled Big Brother website on Channel 4’s homepage:
http://www.channel4.com/bigbrother/index.jsp. The coverage and forums on http://bigbrother.digitalspy.co.uk/ as well as the bbc.co.uk’s Asian network forums have also been prime movers in mobilising the protests.

So what happens next? Well, Channel 4 better find a quick way to solve the crisis they have on their hands. This afternoon, the show’s live feed was blocked and only reinstated when the bullies had been separated from Shilpa and her support group in the house. The live feed has been since censored to prevent viewers from discovering the reason for the separation (one hopes that Shilpa wasn’t physically attacked in the house – that could have ugly consequences outside).

And they better hope that no Indians with internet access – from home or other parts of the world - get in on the act. After all if Indians with net access could upstage all Hollywod stars to vote Amitabh Bachchan the “star of the millennium” on BBC’s online poll back in 2000, imagine what we could do with a few choice addresses from Ofcom and Channel 4.

Fyi in case you want to follow this one on your own: www.youtube.com (seach for Shilpa and CBB), http://www.channel4.com/bigbrother AND to protest: ofcom.co.uk, bblb@channel4.com, bbbm@channel4.com, AND here is the petition doing the rounds already: http://www.petitiononline.com/Shilpa/petition.html

I know, I know - but I am Indian yaar, and nothing better than some sabre-rattling (nonviolently of course) and rabble-rousing to get things going....