Devdas Movie Review

"Fear hiding in the folds of red curtains, monstrous architecture, and caricature" is hardly the phrase I would use to describe Devdas. (Singh 91) For the most part, novel-based movies never turn out very well, particularly in comparison to the novel. However, Devdas does very well for itself, as shown by the fact that it constantly keeps getting remade. It reaches out to its audience on a highly emotional level, taking a typical dramatic love triangle and making it so much more.

In the movie, the protagonist named Devdas is caught between two women and two worlds, Parvathi and Chandramukhi. Being only human, Devdas resorts to the only way he knows how to solve his problems, escape through alcoholism and self-destruction. As a character, Devdas really reaches out to his audience. The conflicts of the self-sacrificing female leads also truly hit home for the people watching. Almost everyone has wanted something or someone that they couldn't have. Almost everyone has had to prioritize their lives and put their responsibilities first and uphold the expectations of their family and peers.

This movie really emphasizes gender roles as well as social classes in the Indian community. Devdas, belonging to a well-to-do family, could not marry as he chose. Though he had more freedom as a young child, as he grows into adulthood, he must now carry the burden of the responsibility that comes with the privilege of belonging to that specific class. His dilemma is reminiscent of another movie in which Shah Rukh Khan played the lead. This movie, Veer Zaara, has the same concept of putting obligation above love because Zaara, being the spoiled only daughter of a rich family, must enter a political-savvy matrimony though her heart has already been taken by Veer(Shah Rukh Khan).

The concept of loveless marriages seems to be a repetitive motif in Hindi movies. Though not always loveless, marriage seems more like a front in which the man and the woman play parts that they are supposed to based on the gender roles that have been fed to them since they were small children. In the movie, both Parvathi and Chandramukhi devote themselves to Devdas, although he is in love with Parvathi and despite his abusive tendencies. They all play the roles they are expected to play in society and they all suffer emotionally because of it.

As mentioned in class, the Hindu perspective of free will is the ability to choose who you love. Yet as Etem says in her article, "irony is the bottom line of human experience." And how ironic is it to be able to have the free will to love someone and not have the free will to spend the rest of your life with her?

In his article, Singh criticizes the 2002 rendition as over the top and bombastic. To him, it was just flashy colors and pretty costumes with no real tribute to the content of Saratchandra Chatterjee's novel. To this point, I would partly agree and disagree. The set is beautiful and the colors are vibrant. The main actors themselves exude beauty: Shah Rukh Khan and Miss Universe Aishwarya Rai. But Devdas is more than just colors and sounds and fireworks. The beauty of the set attracts the audience's eyes but the content of the movie captures the audience's hearts. As Etem says in her article, Devdas stays on with the viewer.

Ja Santoshi Maa!

My initial reaction to Jai Santoshi Maa was a good one. I thought that the film transcended any baggage surrounding typical devotional movies and did so by bringing the female goddess Santoshi Ma to light. I found that the movie did an excellent job of exemplifying Santoshi Ma, and her ability to provide “Satisfaction” through devotion. (Lutgendorf 2) The way the director represented her as a desirable figure of power and success with the less-than-mentionable special effects was what I have come to expect. The unrealistic, God-Like ability exhibited by Santoshi Ma is effective and is a typical representation of God’s or Goddess’s in Indian cinema. I am sure the cheesy effects and constant expulsions of “Narayan, Narayan!” only contributed to the success of this film. It was still stuck in my head the day after our viewing.

The relationship Satyawati has with Santoshi Ma is a devout one to say the least. I have to agree with Stephen in that the film is not only a mythological, but a devotional film as well. (Watkins 84) Satyawati endures a living hell after Birju leaves out of disdain for actions his family had done. Satyawati is taken advantage of by her sister-in-laws and constantly knocked down emotionally and physically through the labor of her work. They deem her responsible for all of their chores and she has to work hard to earn her meager ration of stale bread. Her devotion to Santoshi Ma, which is expressed by her exhibition of a period of ritual fast or ‘vrat’ is, as Sarah stated, a reminder of a continuing form of oppression for Indian women. (Lutgendorf 9) This oppression is overcome by the devotion to Santoshi Ma, which becomes very apparent in the final hour of the film. I agree that by understanding how the readings relate to this film brings an unbiased scope to the viewer, which brings the movie to you in a different ‘mantra’.

I was also impressed to see how Birju so devoutly worships and adheres to the goddess’ desires. After much time away from Satyawati and the development of a relationship with another woman he still listens to Santoshi Ma’s cry for him to return to Satyawati. I believe that this represents a will for women to overcome oppression, formed by religion or man. By using Birju as a character of devotion the director portrays Santoshi Ma as having the final answer to his troubles. This female deity provides an inspiration to women in India, and contributed to the local and widespread success of Jai Santoshi Maa.

I think it is interesting to note how westerners receive mythological films like Ja Santoshi Maa. As Lutgendorf states in his article, “On an aesthetic level, their cheap production values and special effects, evoking the staging conventions of rustic folk theater and lower-class notions of opulence, are perceived as gaudy kitsch by wealthier and more educated people. “ This I find to be for the most part true, but he later goes on to state, “Such portrayals pose little problem for rural and more traditional audiences, for whom even laughter at the gods can coexist comfortably with feelings of awe and devotion.” These statements allow you to see that the visual boundaries westerners have trouble crossing are exactly what make the success of this film in Indian Cinema.

In conclusion I thought the movie was great. I have come to expect a three hour, visual experience that for the sake of character development and inclusion of all the typical Bollywood touches cannot be shortened. I would not mind getting a little extra bang for my buck in American theaters. I thought the movie did exactly what it what supposed to; emote a feeling of worship for Santoshi Ma.

Review of the Review for Jai Santoshi Maa

“Narayan, Narayan,” words I never want to hear again while watching a movie. I agree with the reviewer’s first opinion of Jai Santoshi Maa in that it was a painful experience to watch. Once again, my western close-mindedness prohibited me to view this movie for its significant value. While watching the movie, I found it to be a mix between the campy Batman series of the 1960s, Cinderella, and The Ten Commandments. I know this is not true; however, it is difficult for me to form an objective opinion on a movie like this because I am not Indian nor am I spiritual. In my opinion, there are two types of bad movies. The first, are movies that I consider just plain bad such as Gadar: Ek Prem Katha and then there are the movies that I find bad because I can’t relate or understand them such as Jai Santoshi Maa. With that said, I respect and appreciate the value that Jai Santoshi Maa had on the Indian people. Actually, it is kind of embarrassing. Jai Santoshi Maa had the power to inspire people to worship this holy figure, yet we are inspired by shows such as The Jersey Shore.
In Indian cinema, a mythological movie is about representing the Gods and a devotional film is based on devotees (Waters 84, 86). The review of Jai Santoshi Maa identifies the movie as a mythological film, but I also find that it has a devotional aspect as well. Obviously Santoshi Maa is the mythological figure being worshiped, but it could be argued that Satyawati is the true subject of the movie (Das 49). Her story is the narrative that unfolds the storyline of the movie, yet it is bound by the structure of Santoshi Maa (Das 49). The actions of Satyawati are the catalyst of the story. Every scene that drives the film forward occurs when something happens to Satyawati, often requiring her devotion to be tested. For example, early in the film she pledges her devotion to Santoshi Maa in order to find a husband. Her wish comes true and she marries Birju. Again, towards the end of the movie it is through Satyawati’s devotion to Santoshi Maa that drives Santoshi Maa to be sympathetic to Satyawati’s sister in-laws’ foul actions and thus resurrecting Satyawati’s dead nephews. In another aspect, Satyawati’s devotion put Santoshi Maa to the test. If Santoshi Maa was overcome by anger and conducted vengeful acts, she would be viewed as ferocious and feared; therefore, she must be able to forgive in order to show that she is a gentle and benevolent goddess.
Like the review and a few of the articles mentioned, women had the strongest presence in the movie. The male characters such as Birju and the “Hindu trinity” (Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva) were all backdrops to the story. Once again, it was Satyawati’s devotion to Santoshi Maa that propelled the movie, but the wives of the the “Hindu trinity” (Lakshmi, Parvati, and Brahmani) as well as Satyawati’s sisters-in-laws (Durga and Maya) provided the drama or conflict. I agree with the review that these are the representations of the concepts of “good” and “bad.” In my opinion, these qualities of “badness” showed the divine also have their weaknesses. As an outsider to Indian culture and beliefs, I found it confusing as to why the movie portrayed the three Goddesses with weaknesses driven by jealousy like their human counterparts, but Lutgendor explains that these movies are targeted towards a traditional audience who have a more personal relationship with the gods as opposed to a Protestantized ideology (Lugendor, 6). At the end of the movie, the three goddesses state they were only testing Satyawati, but I did not buy this based on the tone of the acting (Das 45).
I am usually annoyed by the song and dance in Indian cinema, but Jai Santoshi Maa truly put my patience to the test with the character of the Narada. Only through the readings did I find the significance of his character. Narada is a divine sage who is a devotee of Vishnu. He is mischievous gossiper who likes to stir up trouble and he inspired several key events throughout the film (Lutgendor 14). At first, he was a considerable factor in the decision making process of Ganesh in creating Santoshi Maa. Later on in the movie he advised Satyawat to fast in which ultimately led to the return of Birju.
Jai Santoshi Maa is a movie that has deeper meaning than I can ever understand in film. I have not decided if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but I don’t see myself ever being inspired by a film. As I mentioned in my introduction, Jai Santoshi Maa is not a movie I ever care to see again; however, I respect it’s message and significance to the people who are inspired by it.
Stephen Davis

Works Cited
Das, Veena. “The Mythological Film and its Framework of Meaning: An Analysis of Jai
Santoshi Maa.” India International Centre quarterly 8:1. (1981) 43-56. Print.

Lutgendor, Philip. “Who Wants to be a Goddess? Jai Santoshi Maa Revisited.”

Watkins, Gregory J. “Teaching Religion and Film.” Oxford University Press. 2008.
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Jai Santoshi Maa

Kaitlyn’s review covered a lot of ground and incorporated the articles in very well. My reaction to the film was similar to Kaitlyn’s in that it changed after I did research on it. Watching the film through Westerner eyes with little background information on the movie, only the story of Ganesh, I found the movie to be very amateur and was curious as to why it was one of the movies selected to watch in the course. I found the acting to be so awful that nothing felt genuine, the movie relentlessly reminding me of a soap opera with the frequent dramatic outbursts (especially the scene where Birju discovers he has been served leftovers from his brothers’ dinner plates) and female actresses caked with make-up. Satyavati’s insecurity frustrated me and I was annoyed with her whininess because I felt she should have stood up for herself against the cruel sister in-laws, and also that she should have taken the opportunity to leave the mistreating household when her father came to take her back to her hometown. I understand she was committed to Birju, but I saw no reason why Birju could not just seek out for her once he returned to find her absent. To me, when she made the decision to stay in hopes of Birju’s return, she subjected herself to the abuse. I guess I just wanted to see her become strong and independent woman who thought for herself rather than rely on fate and faith( agreeing with the critique of the vrats as “rituals contributing to the subordination and disempowerment of women” mentioned in Lutgendor’s article). However, I enjoyed the change of pace from the many mansalas that we have viewed, especially the lack of constant violence and political corruption that mansalas always capture, and found the silly fighting scenes to be endearing. After learning that Jai Santoshi Maa falls under the genre of mythological/devotional, and that the plot was parallel to the story drawn from a pamphlet belonging to the genre known as vrat katha, I started to see the movie in a new light.

I found it very interesting that I could have noticed the movie was going to be aimed for a different audience just in the opening credits. Mansala’s have the target audience of young urban males and more “sophisticated” audiences, and “displayed their titles and credits in Roman script and using English terminology” (Lutgendor 6). Jai Santoshi Maa’s credits were completely in Devanagari script with Sanskritized-Hindi neologisms, a flag for the change of pace in genre’s and targeted audience.

What I wanted to touch on that Kaitlyn did not get to include in her review, was the significance of the history of devotionals in relation to why it was so shocking that Jai Santoshi Maa was a great success. Devotional films were crucial to the start of Indian cinema. This was because well into the sound era of the 1930s, cinema was still stigmatized as being a foreign innovation, and the shift in content of output in the Indian cinematic industry was not until D. G. Phalke’s efforts to capture Indian culture on screen. Around 1913, he began to produced close to a hundred movies and the majority of them were devotionals drawn from epic and puranic tales, which created a different audience than from the one’s that were patronizing foreign films. People of India embraced the devotionals because of the familiarity of mythological tales, something significant to Indian audiences. This familiarity also explains why devotionals were significant to the start of early Indian cinema, because it helped Indians embrace the new technology of cinema and break the stigma of cinema being foreign and only for the elite or more sophisticated audiences. But as Indian cinema developed and more genres were being produced, devotionals, having that target audience of more rural populations (that Kaitlyn explains in her review), were started to be seen as downmarket, and the production of devotionals shrinked drastically. Devotional films accounted for 70% of films made prior to 1923, but had practically disappeared by the 1950s (Lutgendor 4). So it is no wonder why it was shocking that in 1975, long after the shift in popularity from devotionals to mansalas, Jai Santoshi Maa was such a success!

Jai Santoshi Maa

In contrast to movies like Amar, Akbar, Anthony that are social movies with undertones of religion, as described in Rachel Dwyer's article, Jai Santoshi Maa is a true mythological religious film. The movie opens abruptly to the god Ganesha, the elephant headed remover of obstacles, creating a daughter, whose name is Santoshi, or satisfaction. Although the special effects are probably the worst I’ve ever seen, the transitions are nonexistent, and the sets are fake looking, I can see why Jai Santoshi Maa became such a cultural and religious phenomenon. The movie illustrated important cultural, religious, and domestic concepts within the guise of a simple, one-dimensional movie.

The movie tells its story in the form of a parallel narrative that tells the story of Satyawati while concurrently describing the Santoshi Maa’s ascension of power within the major pantheon of gods in dev lok, the world of the gods (Lutgendor 14). Satyawati, Santoshi Maa’s most faithful servant on earth, falls for Birju, the seventh son of a farming family. Similtaneously, Parvati, Lakshmi, and Brahmani discover that Santoshi Maa is more loved and worshiped by people on earth. They get angry and jealous and decide to torment Santoshi Maa’s biggest fan, Satyawati. Back on earth, Satyawati manages to marry Birju without any major hitches, but after the wedding, the problems start cropping up. First of all, Satyawati’s sister-in-laws are dreadful human beings, and constantly tear her down – even on her wedding night! Secondly, not only do the jealous sister-in-laws torment Satyawati, they also constantly degrade Birju, calling him useless and even feeding him leftovers, which ends up offending Birju to the point of him storming out to prove himself useful. The goddesses then send a storm against Birju, to punish his wife for worshiping Santoshi Maa. Santoshi, however, saves Birju because of the request from her faithful Satyawati to keep him safe. Even though their plans are foiled, the goddesses still manage to convince his family (with the exception of his wife) that Birju is dead. Now, with Birju out of the picture, the sisters-in-law starve, beat, and dump all their household chores on Satyawati. Satyawati keeps faith and preys to Santoshi Maa. Eventually, because of her great faith in Santoshi Maa, and her completion of the ritual described in the movie, Birju comes back to Satyawati, with a small fortune in tow.

After seeing Satyawati’s bad treatment at the hands of his relatives, Birju and Satyawati leave his family home to start a new life in a new house. Satyawati, because of her forgiving nature, holds a party in Santoshi Maa’s honor. This is where the conflict in heaven reaches its climax. The scheming sisters-in-law ruin Satyawati’s party by breaching the food taboo that forbids Santoshi Maa’s followers from consuming sour foods. Santoshi Maa goes into a rage, throwing the universe out of balance, on its head. Satyawati, however, comes the rescue and pleads with her goddess to fix everything. Santoshi Maa fixes everything on earth and even appears to her followers in person. In heaven, the goddesses realize the only way to appease Santoshi Maa is to accept her into the pantheon of gods, which they promptly do. Everything is right in the universe, and the screen goes black.

The articles used several words to describe Jai Santoshi Maa, some of them conflicting, but the one thing the articles agreed upon was that the movie was the perfect representation of the mythological genre of films (Watkins 84-5). The mythological genre primarily focuses on representing the Hindu gods, in this case, their codependent relationship with humans and their interactions with other gods (Watkins 85). Mythological films sometimes have elements of the supernatural, a fantasy element represented in this movie by cheesy side effects (my favorite one was when Santoshi Maa made the little plate of offerings fly towards her). This particular story wasn’t adapted from the famous epics of India like the Mahabharata or the Ramayana, but from local folk stories and smaller religious stories in the Puranas (Watkins 91). This particular story is also representative of vrata, a form of worship specific to a local place or culture (Watkins 103). This form of worship is when a people worship gods that aren’t traditionally a part of the pantheon of great gods (Shiva, Vishnu, Parvati, Lakshmi, etc.) but are unique to a specific place (in this case Northern India). Over the course of a movie with vrata, the local god or goddess gains a place in the traditional pantheon (Watkins 103-104). The ascension of Santoshi Maa is described in great detail Veena Das’ article, basically typifying the gods into six different categories. The category that Santoshi Maa reached was the sixth one, the “transcendence of all formal rules through devotion (bhakti)” (Das 46).

The phenomenon of cultural and religious impact of Jai Santoshi Maa can be explained due to several social and cultural reasons, not the least of which concerning the upward mobility of the female goddess, a very modern idea of social fluidity (Watkins 104). The goddess wasn’t the only woman to better her lot in life in the movie; Satyawati (a common housewife) also becomes more powerful and richer over the course of the movie because of her faith and her devotion to Santoshi Maa (Das, Lutgendor 8; Watkins 103-4). Not only was the concept of women moving up in the world attractive (and the concept of justice for the just), the movie also touched on universal life experiences for women: dealing with the in-laws, moving out of her family’s house into his. Santoshi Maa provided relief from “the everday tensions of existence” because she is “gentle, benevolent and dependable” (Das 54). Because of the attraction for women, Jai Santoshi Maa accessed a previously untapped demographic: rural housewives and women. This is very different than the urban young male audience of most of the masala films of the day (Lutgendor 2). The movie appealed to the rural class of Indian, the poor, everyday people of India because of the authentic rural Indian culture on display in the movie, presenting the audience with familiar dress, food, religion, song, and dance. The movie made familiar allusions to the Mahabharata, Seeta and Rama, and Krishna, stories that everyone in India would understand, not just highbrow Brahmins.

Besides a cultural phenomenon, the film created an uprising of Santoshi supporters. The religious phenomenon even went to the extreme that people were going to the movie to worship and appreciate the darshan of the goddess (Watkins 92, Lutengendor 12). Perhaps the extreme support for the goddess arouse because of her unique meaning to India. As the goddess of satisfaction, she was accessible, she gave her followers what they wanted only by following simple rituals, and she was clearly more forgiving and inclusive of her followers than some of the other deities based on her acceptance of jaggery and chick peas (a food exclusive to the poorer classes of India) (Das 44, Lutgendor 8, 12). One critic even notes that the fact that Santoshi Maa “is satisfied with such offerings again underscores her benevolent character as well as her accessibility to poor devotees.” (Lutgendor 12). In addition, the medium of the story of the goddess is important to note because it reached the illiterate groups of India. And in fact, the movie was reportedly made to “spread the…message” of the goddess, the easiest way of which is through film because of the illiterate nature of some of the population (Lutgendor 8).

The religious topics that stood out in the movie were undeniably darshan and iconicity. The icon of Santoshi Maa is shown several times in the movie, showing the importance of icons in Hindu worship (Watkins 92-3). Darshan, the concept much used in Indian religion and mythological films, is characteristic of seeing and being seen by the god as a part of a religious experience is highly emphasized in the first song with all the ocular references and the close ups on both Santoshi Maa’s idol and Satyawati’s face (Lutgendor 14; Watkins 102)

One topic that was not discussed in the articles that I noticed about the movie was the representation of women in the movie and the concepts of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ traits in women. These traits were represented dually in the goddesses and the mortal women. Santoshi Maa’s traits were primarily described in devotional hymns, called bhajans (Lutgendor 14). Her followers literally sung praises of Santoshi Maa being “glorious, tender, beautiful, mother…very powerful, merciful, giver of life.” These traits were reflected in her servant, Satyawati, who was once described by Birju as having “innocence, mischief, and all my dreams” in her eyes. Isn’t this just a diluted version of the goddess – a goddess who at once is very good, but can be very bad (as seen at the end of the movie)? At the same time, the jealous major goddesses act petty, angry, and less then kind. These traits are reflected in the sister-in-laws, ironically named for goddesses, Durga and Maya – who are jealous, interfering, nosy, and mean in every action. I find it unusual, coming from a culture that fears God and probably wouldn’t dare to make fun of him, that three major (usually venerated) Indian goddesses are portrayed as jealous and petty. This kind of representation of gods (and the representation of how the gods interfere in human affairs) is reminiscent of the Greek pantheon.

The difference, though, is the intense devotion these characters have for Santoshi Maa, something that I never found prominent in Greek myth. This film’s main topic is the goddess, and the songs are proof of that. They reveal basic truths about the goddess and how to worship her, something I find more important. Because truthfully, even though there are several layers to the film about class and about religion, the main point of the film is to spread the word and worship of Santoshi Maa. It is purely devotional in this way, with song lyrics describing the fact that “she has a lot of powers.” The songs order the audience to “prey to her,” and “surrender your life to her,” in order to “attain salvation,” all with the message that if you do all these things, “your life will be better.” In addition to these simple messages of salvation, the movie shows that because Satyawati followed Santoshi Maa, she became rich, got her husband back, and, in short, got the life she deserved just because she was faithful to the goddess. This kind of implied causal relationship shows audiences that Santoshi Maa is a kind mistress, truly a goddess of satisfaction because she gives her followers whatever they want. I think this is what created such a religious outpouring of support for Santoshi Maa. Because this movie proves how easy it is to worship her and the rewards for worshipping her, Santoshi Maa became very popular amongst lower class women.

In conclusion, Jai Santoshi Maa may look simple from the outside, but within the bad effects, cheap sets, and dramatic acting lay a movie that affected a lot of people, culturally and religiously in India. Not only does it provide an articulation for “contemporary social desire,” and darshan but it represents a lot of issues for Indian women and religion (Watkins 103). So, I must admit that even though I was at first pained by watching it, I looked deeper and saw something more than a ‘simple devotional film’ and now I respect, if not like, the movie better for it.

Works Cited

Das, Veena. “The Mythological Film and its Framework of Meaning: An Analysis of Jai

Santoshi Maa.” India International Centre quarterly 8:1. (1981) 43-56. Print.

Dwyer, Rachel. “Filming the Gods: Religion and Indian Cinema.” Routledge. 2006. Print.

Lutgendor, Philip. “Who Wants to be a Goddess? Jai Santoshi Maa Revisited.”

Watkins, Gregory J. “Teaching Religion and Film.” Oxford University Press. 2008.

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Satya Review

Satya is a striking story of the criminal underworld of Mumbai. The audience sees Satya, the title character, move through his life in Mumbai, in the context of two lives: one with his girlfriend, Vidya, and one with his gang, lead by Bhiku. It is important to note the intended purpose of this movie and its obvious social commentary. The movie aims to describe the cycle of gang violence, how it never stops, and how angry young men get pulled into the allure of having a group that acts as practically a second family. The cycle of poverty and violence that keeps cities like Mumbai constantly in the throes of violence are because of these gangs. Gangs encourage an atmosphere of great friendship and brotherhood – gang members look after each other and help each other, as was seen several times: when Bhiku give Satya a job and a place to live right after he gets out of jail, when Bhiku pays for the gift Satya wants to get for Vidya, the invitations to weddings, parties, and big events in each others lives. The gang is essentially Satya’s family, and probably feels more like a family because his real family is all dead. This ‘patronage’ relationship encourages people to join gangs, and makes people feel extreme loyalty to the gang that they join. Satya’s own loyalty is shown as unshakable, to the point where he revenges Bhiku’s death by killing Bhau. Because gangs make life better for angry young men like Satya, more are encouraged to join, and in that process the gangs make angry, young men out of people they victimize, or out of people whose families they kill. It is a never ending cycle of violence that just creates generations of angry, violent, young men who want to join a gang so they can be a part of something bigger than just themselves, so they can survive, or so they can make money.

At the very end of the movie, the comments show the intended purpose of the movie. The movie isn’t meant to glamorize gang life, or even tell the individual tragedy of Satya and his love, Vidya, but to possible deter gang violence from occurring in the future.

This film is an attempt on my part to reach out to all those people who took to violence as a means for their living. At the end of it, if even one of them out there looks into himself before he takes out his gun the next time, and understands that the pain he inflicts on others is exactly the same as he would suffer himself, I would consider this effort worthwhile.

The last point I want to make individually, before I delve into the other reviews, is that the characters in this movie, despite being murderers and criminals, are likeable. Satya’s obvious feeling for Vidya and friendship with Bhiku are genuine human relationships that are easily relatable and likable. Bhiku’s personality is infectious and his recklessness is almost endearing. And, let me say, watching Bhiku dance was one of the few times I actually smiled watching the movie. The point I’m trying to make is that the characters in this movie, despite being bad people, are likeable. I think the last line of the movie says it best: “My tears for Satya are as much as they are for the people whom he killed.”

Adam’s review

I thought Adam’s analysis of Satya’s and Vidya’s relationship and what they represent is important to understanding Satya. Vidya represents a force of “knowledge” whose purpose is to “discern the true…from the false.” Keeping in mind that Satya means truth, I think this has quite the implication for the concept of truth in the movie. When Vidya and Satya are together, Vidya’s presence illuminates the truth of the man Satya might have been if he had not been dragged into the gang – intelligent, thoughtful, happy. But I also think that Satya never gets the chance to experience the full truth of what he could be because he never escapes from the gang, and he never even tells Vidya the truth about him. All of Vidya and Satya’s interactions are tainted with the lie he is keeping from her: the scene at the movie theatre, meeting Bhiku and trying to disguise their job, and even the ring he gives her is bought with Bhiku’s money – money aquired from extortion and gang activity. Nothing between Vidya and Satya is genuine – except their four day vacation outside of Mumbai, the four happiest days of Satya’s life.

Ed’s Review

I thought Ed’s interpretation of Satya as the Mahabharata was quite accurate, but I did have some interesting points to make in accordance with some of the claims. I thought it was interesting how Bhiku’s group represents the Pandavas especially because in the Mahabharata the Pandavas are morally superior to the Kauravas, who are really the ‘evil aggressors.’ It seems to me that when comparing Bhiku’s gang and Guru Narayan’s gang that neither is necessarily better than the other, both are murderers, criminal factions that harm innocent people. However, I guess that Bhiku’s gang is involved in lesser crimes of extortion, rather than human trafficking that Narayan’s group is infamous for.

I also liked Ed’s point about how the he believed Satya to be a metaphor for Indian society and politics. I thought his analysis fit the article, but also think it is important to note that the corruption of government is a big part of the movie and a big part of the analysis. The abandon at which the police gathered up and murdered the criminal groups of Mumbai was surprising and horrific. I was not expecting such violence from the so-called ‘upholders of the law.’ I thought it was reminiscent of the Emergency, a time when the government abandoned all fronts of democracy vanish and the government pretty much declared martial law. The images of men in brown uniforms beating, torturing, and killing people were not only disturbing to me (an American audience), it probably resonated even more with an Indian audience because of how unstable their government system is, and the occurrence of police and government corruption.

While the police completely ignore the process of the law, it almost seemed to me that the people were more afraid of the police than they were of gangs. The news programs dubbed the police “murderers and butchers.” There were human rights protests. The media looked as if it had a heyday with the amount of violence in the name of the law. The police force claimed they were cleaning up the criminal activity, but to the outside viewer, it certainly looks as if they are becoming just as bad as the criminals themselves, if not worse. At least the criminals acknowledge that they are behaving badly.

Rachel’s review

I had a different view than Rachel’s of some of Satya’s characteristics. Although I agree that Satya’s background is ambiguous and that the director chose to portray him this way to make the character and his situation universal instead of specific, I think that once we meet Satya, it is very clear that he is a violent character. He was clearly doomed to a life of violence and killing from the very beginning, even if he had avoided getting involved in a gang.

I think there is a clear progression from Satya as violent and powerless to Satya as violent and powerful. When the movie introduces Satya’s character, we see the first conflict he gets into when a gang member demands money from him. Instead of just walking away or giving them money, Satya slashes one of them across the face with his own knife. He gets beaten up because of this, but despite being powerless to do anything about the gangs threatening him, he still reacts violently. The same event occurs when he attacks Jagga, the act that puts him in jail. He is essentially powerless within the system (he isn’t part of a gang and has noone to guard his back), but he still reacts violently and fights with any threat. By the time leaves jail, he has befriended the head of one of the city’s most powerful gang leaders and establishes himself in a place of power within the system. Now, instead of just violence, Satya also has the full man power and gun power of the Mathre gang behind him. With that assured power, he kills Jagga. Eventually, throughout the story, his actions become more and more violent: from having gun fights in the middle of the streets to kill Narayan, to killing the police commissioner, to causing the riot in which several innocents were killed. This escalation of violent acts tells me that Satya was a very violent young man to begin with and just got bolder and bolder as his gang became more powerful. Maybe I’m underestimating Satya, but I think he was always a violent person. The gang that he was a part of focused his skills and gave him power and therefore he made the change over the course of the movie from a violent, angry young man to a violent, angry mass murderer. The only time he isn’t angry, the only time he isn’t killing people is when he is with Vidya. This relationship proves to be the last thread of humanity that Satya hangs onto till the very end of the movie.

The Ambiguous Satya

Satya is a movie about the violent underworld of Mumbai. Adam makes some very insightful remarks about the movie and the integral relationships of the main character, Satya. However, I think he missed the mark on some important aspects of Satya’s multifaceted character.

There is no denying the fact that Satya is a complex movie based around a complex character. Satya travels to Mumbai in hopes of a better life. A better life from what, we are never told. In fact, we learn little of Satya’s past other than the fact that he is an orphan. This ambiguity over his past is an essential aspect to the overall ambiguous Satya character. He has many instances in which he proves to be a cold blooded gangster, but also moments when he shows reserve and hesitation. The reviewer notes that in Satya’s first ethical test, he “passes” by taking the drink spat at him in stride. But is this Satya’s first test? After moving into his new place, the superintendent asks for rent from Satya, which he gives. But Satya turns around and gangster extorts Satya as a form of protection from the mafia. In response to this extortion, Satya slashes his face. Does Satya start out with a criminal mindset? If so, why later does he show such hesitation when he is given the opportunity to kill Jagga. Satya endured many provocations and slights to his honor and the behest of Jagga. If he has a criminal mindset, he would not give pause to killing Jagga. Satya constantly contradicts himself throughout the movie. In one scene he is the instigator, urging on Bhiku to kill the commissioner. Then, in others he looks appalled with violence, particularly the altercation Bhiku and his wife have, especially when it turns physical. It is hard to discern whether Satya is born of criminal mindset or if he is forced into a life of crime. It is not until the end of the movie when Vidya provides Satya with enlightenment of what life outside of crime could be that we see him really start to question his previous actions. But, then again, he turns around and seeks revenge by killing Bhau. I think the director wanted Satya’s intentions to remain ambiguous, that way more viewers can relate to Satya.

That being said, Satya is an exemplar of the new type of Bollywood hero. With the coming of the Emergency and Indira Ghandi’s rule over India, India’s ideal role model became one who was tough, physical, ruthless, and inured to violence (Ahmed, 10). This change is reflected in Bollywood with the coming of a new hero, the angry young man. Amitabh Buchanan became famous as this angry young man, because of the real portrayal of his anger and disillusionment with society and its corruption. Buchanan and other actors worked to represent the crisis of the contemporary society, with issues of sex, drugs, violence, drink, the infiltration of technology. Satya embodies four main characteristics that allow his classification as an angry young man. First, Satya deals with issues of contemporary society, specifically violence. Second, Satya exhibits the same macho man attitude that many of Amitabh Buchanan’s characters portrayed. Third, Satya, and the other gangsters, wore more American clothes, echoing the impact of globalization on the new heroes (Ahmed, 300-306). Finally, Satya hints that he has a sad past. In “Dissolving the Male Child in Popular Hindi Cinema” Creekmur claims that “the ‘angry young man’ is, after all, a sad little boy” (365).

This film was made on a small budget and it’s reception surprised most of the filmmakers. While many people thought that this movie glorified the Mumbai underworld, many more people were pleased with the reality the movie portrayed. Ali Peter John, a movie critic, wrote in Screen magazine that he “will remember ‘Satya’ as long as truth lives…generations to come will be grateful for [Ramu] for having guts to tell the truth as it is, the truth about the truth” (The truth terrorises, www.witsindia.com/satya/revs_ali.html). I think this is important to note, because Satya, when translated, does mean truth. The director worked hard to portray the true life in Mumbai, the life that is often overlooked in Bollywood cinema. This idea is echoed in the tagline on IMDB for Satya is “the other side of truth” (Satya, www.imdb.com/title/tt0195231/). Satya depicts the nitty-gritty truth. The truth most people hope to ignore.

Overall, the movie was interesting to watch. The depiction of the underworld of Mumbai is hardly different then the underworld depicted in our American movies such as The Town and The Departed. I would be lying if I said I liked the ending in Satya, but I know that it had to happen that way to maintain the rasa.

References:

Ahmed, A. S. (1992). Bombay films: The cinema as a metaphor for Indian society and politics. Modern Asian Studies: 26:2,289-320.

Creekmur, C. K. (2005). Dissolving the male child in popular Hindi cinema. In: Where the boys are: Cinemas of masculinity and youth. (pp. 350-376). Detroit: Wayne State University Press.

John, A. P. (n.d.) The truth terrorsies. Retrieved March 28, 2011, from www.witsindia.com/satya/revs_ali.html

Satya (n.d.) International Movie Database. Retrieved March 26, 2011, from www.imdb.com/title/tt0195231/

Satyabharata!

As Adam has accurately summarized the movie in its entirety, I will focus on interpreting the Mahabharata within the movie and analyze the movie in reference to the readings.

Satya as the Mahabharata

I had to perform a vast amount of secondary research into the Mahabharata and the individual characters and their personalities before even attempting to juxtapose them with characters within Satya. What follows is my basic interpretation of how these mythic characters within the Mahabharata fill different roles within the movie.

To begin, the Kurushetra War is being fought within the city of Mumbai. Within Philip Lutgendorf’s Bending the Bharata, he discusses another movie based on the Mahabharata with, “the final long shots of the smoggy Bombay skyline, awash in ambivalent gray, underscore the message that the bleak kalyug is indeed our contemporary age” (Lutgendorf 27). I believe the opening shots of the movie, a montage of dull, gray skies with murder and chaos running rampant, underscore the era of the kali yuga, in which man’s virtues and noble ideas have crumbled into dissolution of right action, morality, and virtue.

To begin, I will break down the family structure of both the Mahabharata and Satya and juxtapose the characters based on personality similarities and situational similarities. As Lutgendorf states within, Bending the Bharata, “Radical reinterpretation of the Sanskrit epic story [Mahabharata], often involves the omission, invention, and transposition of events and characters” (35). Based on this explanation, I have loosely modeled my interpretation of the characters and roles they portray, with some overlapping and others being omitted entirely.

Bheeku Mhatre’s gang mirrors that of the Pandava family and Guru Naryan’s gang mirrors the Kaurava family. Within the Pandava family, the eldest brother, Yudhisthira, is portrayed within Uncle Kallu. Hints at his weakness to gambling are displayed through the fact that the Mhatre gang is involved in “extortion, film finance, and gambling dens” (Movie). Uncle Kallu is also the only member within the Mhatre gang who possesses discipline and is hesitant to perform and hasty actions. Bheeku extremely, extremely loosely portrays Arjuna; primarily due to the influence that Satya has upon his decision making and the guidance provided. Satya portrays more than one character of the Mahabharata, in my opinion. Firstly he portrays Krishna through his guidance of Bheeku and some of the comments other characters within the movie project towards him. Bheeku, early in the movie, states to Satya, “Don’t come near my wife, she will elope with you.” I believe this statement suggests Satya’s Vishnu-like personality in attracting women. In addition to Krishna, I believe Satya to firmly embody Bhima. To further explain why I believe this, I must first state that Jagga represents Dushasana, younger brother of the Kaurava family. I believe the humiliation Jagga forces upon Satya early in the movie is a metaphor for the humiliation Dushasana forces upon Draupadi within the Mahabharata, which Bhima responds with the threat to drink Dushasana’s blood. With this basic understanding, I believe the scene where Bheeku provides Satya with the means by which to enact his vengeance is the embodiment of Bhima’s retribution. I feel that Guru Naryan represents Duryodhana, eldest brother of the Kaurava family. His gang is described as being involved in “immoral trafficking” and his individual actions undermine the Mhatre gang, revealing his desire is to have all of Mumbai to himself (reflecting Duryodhana’s desires). Bhau is a loose embodiment of Bhishma, grandfather of both families. His high skills in political science and desire to reconcile the tension between the families, to prevent war, evidence this comparison. It is important to note, however, that Bhau does not embody any other characteristics of Bhishma except that he partook in the battle against the Pandava family. Within the story he is killed by Arjuna by so many arrows that he lay upon a ‘bed of nails’; however, within the movie Bhau is killed by Satya from an uncountable amount of stabs with a knife.

As the Mahabharata is enormous and not easy to explore I feel I may have missed many other interpretations/got mine wrong.

Satya as an ‘Angry Young Man’

Corey Creekmur’s Bombay Boys: Dissolving the Male Child in Popular Hindi Cinema discusses the role of angry young men within Hindi films. Satya, in my opinion, represents the angry young man for roughly 2/3 of the movie. Throughout this entire section of the film, Satya displays a neutral, if not angry, look on his face. Additionally he states that he does not fear death and consistently gets into fights with random people (Jaggabhai multiple times, Jaggabhai’s henchmen, and Bheeku in jail).

It is not until 2:26:00 into the movie that Satya begins to show remorse for the deaths of others (in response to the theatre trampling). During this conversation with Bheeku, Satya states, “I am not the same Satya for which these things made no difference. But now, the death of innocents makes a difference to me.”

Satya as a metaphor for Indian Society and Politics

I believed Satya to be a metaphor for Indian society and politics based on Akbar Ahmed’s Bombay Films: The Cinema as Metaphor for Indian Society and Politics. Beyond the obvious political corruption overtones within the movie, there are other small things that display Indian society. Ahmed suggests that during the 1970’s “a new kind of role model was required: tough, physical, ruthless, one inured to violence” (298). These characteristics are the foundation for Satya’s character throughout the movie. Additionally, Ahmed suggests the dialogue to be “thick with dhanda (business – generally shady), adda (meeting place – generally for illegal transactions), lapra (problem, bother) and dada (bad character). There is no place for violins, flowers and pretty princesses” (299). All of these characteristics (dhanda, adda, lapra, dada, lack of violins, flowers and pretty princesses) can be found within Satya, further representing Indian society’s absence of hope, love, family, etc. Ahmed suggests, in reference to another movie, that through “losing the girl, he wins the audience”(304). In applying Ahmed’s suggestion to Satya, I believe it to be accurate. I could not help but feel sympathy for Satya at the end of the movie, despite the enormous amount of ‘evil’ things he performed through the movie.

Satya Review

Satya begins with a bang, as a man shoots a pistol straight into the camera and flames envelope the screen. The introduction of Satya accurately foreshadows the story to follow in this film about the Mumbai underworld. Directly after this choice of dramatic introductory scenes, director Ram Gopal Varma decides to use symbolic images of commerce coexisting in a city where criminal activity plagues the streets, broken down cars are scattered haphazardly, and dilapidated buildings are in the forefront of the audiences’ visual gaze. Discourse in the beginning narration include statements like, “police are corrupt” and “criminals rule a Mumbai underworld”. This is an excellent opening shot, that really develops a great tone and setting for the film. Satya, when translated means “Truth”, which proves to be a towering ideology, inhibited by lack of “knowledge”, and is applicable to many Mumbai underworld criminals.

Satya is played by J.D. Chakravarthi and is the main character of the movie. He is a young male who travels to Mumbai to find work and start a life on his own. There is no real introduction of Satya, we just see him meeting a friend in Mumbai to situate living arrangements, and ask for help finding a job. Satya is in luck because his landlord knows of a place he might be able to work, if he doesn’t mind a bar scene. This job begins as a positive aspect of Satya’s life and gives him money at first to get by. However, quickly after Satya’s hiring, he is barraged by a verbal assault from a bar owner and regular customer Jagga. Jagga is appalled at the quality of drink this new bartender Satya has poured. He spits and throws the drink out in a fit of anger. He curses at Satya and expels, “I will not spare the swine, I will not spare the swine!” this offensive remark hits Satya as he walks away from a restrained Jagga. This scene delivers a perfect mixture of irrationality and lawlessness, insight of two themes consistently appearing throughout this gangster epic. This relationship of Jagga and Satya will not be short-lived. I find this scene to be Satya’s first test of ethics and morality, as he fights the urge to ensue in a retaliation fueled by vengeance.

Soon after this encounter, another occurs between Jagga and Satya. Satya is humiliated by Jagga rubbing his feet on his face while he is serving him at the bar. Satya can no longer repress his actions and springs an attack. To Satya’s dismay, he is jailed on false accusations of exploiting women for prostitution, fabricated at the will of Jagga and carried out by his ties to the corrupt government.

In Jail, Satya meets Bhiku Mhatre over a scuffle that Bhiku was not initially involved with. Bhiku asks Satya to punch him, but he stands in silence. As Bhiku is walking away from the scene, Satya attempts an attack. He is then held back and overtaken by Bhiku. Bhiku threatens his life, which is then repeated by Satya threatening Bhiku’s. Representing some form of accepted equality between the two men and foreshadowing a coming relationship.

Bhiku is impressed with Satya’s enthusiastic spirit and drive. He sees a potential asset to his underworld crime gang. He explains to Mule, his attorney, the qualities he sees in Satya, and requests that he arrange for his release. Bhiku sets Satya up with his crew and a place to stay. Satya takes the offer and moves into the house and position in Bhiku’s gang.

Satya now meets Vidya, a beautiful girl who lives opposite of him, one night during a rain storm. Vidya is trying to turn the power back on in her house and Satya comes to her assistance by helping her locate the breaker box. Vidya lives with her mother and disabled father, and helps her mother tend to her father. Her real dream is to become a singer for the acclaimed film industry in Mumbai. It is obvious that Satya and Vidya have a clear connection upon first introduction. Their relationship becomes an important part of the movie.

Vidya translates into “knowledge or intelligence” and reflects the belief that “the main action of intelligence is to discern the true and real from the false and unreal.”(Swami, 11) Buddhi, an “aspect of consciousness…filled with light…reveals the Truth.”(Swami, 11) Light representing intelligence,(Vidya) required to attain enlightenment or truth (Satya). “When one’s Buddhi becomes fully developed, one becomes Buddha, or enlightened one.”(Swami, 11) It is apparent how integral and representative Vidya becomes, in particular for Satya’s own progression out of a false and unreal criminal underworld. She is fundamental in Satya’s transition to a consciousness filled with light and truth. These inclinations resonate loudly in the Bhagavad Gita and Mahabharata and their relationship is a cinematic metaphor, representative of those ancient texts and beliefs.

With the introduction of Vidya to Satya’s life, I find another sub-theme concurrent with Bhagavad Gita and Mahabharata, in the spirit of Dharma. The role of personal duty and virtue being integral in pursuit of enlightenment, becomes evident in two separate courses. Those two courses are sculpted beautifully by director Rom Gopal Varma and are portrayed by the involvement of Bhiku and Vidya in Satya’s life. Vidya represents a more spiritually oriented life Satya could lead if he were to spend more time with her then Bhiku. Bhiku represents a selfish, action filled life, where evil reigns over good and core morality. Satya realizes his dharma to be the route provided by Bhiku when he is given a gun by him and asked to kill Jagga. This choice in time proves to be fatal for Satya with much deeper implications and consequences than can be foreseen.

Now, Satya has become a part of Bhiku’s gang, and earned a reputation by murdering Jagga. He is on a face paced track to the top of the ranks in Bhiku’s gang. His smart ways earn him respect and recognition among the gang and he becomes Bhiku’s right-hand man. They develop a friendship over time and duty that is very deep and indicative of a required balance the two provide for each other. During this time of criminal activity and advancement through the gang ranks, Satya is also spending time with Vidya.

I believe the relationship director RGV builds between these two characters is genius. Satya hides his criminal side from Vidya until he realizes he is in love with her and only through the admission of the Truth can he possibly keep her. When he tells Bhiku he can no longer continue in the profession Bhiku attributes this to him being in love with Vidya. This symbolic notion asserts that by fully accepting “knowledge” into your life as being a rational form of discourse and action, you can overcome will to commit evil. It is "one's" knowledge of the “other” and their individual Dharma's and emotion that can inherently be affected by crime associated with illiteracy. That knowledge in itself is a recognizable truth. A truth that Satya discovers too late to employ effectively into his life.

During the time of the development of these relationships, Mumbai commissioner Bhau is replaced by Amod Shukla. Former Commissioner Bhau is related to Bhiku and helps maintain the gang through a corrupt government office. The new commissioner decides to enforce a radical approach that has violent implications for gangsters and organized crime. This has a subtle undertone representing a rebellion towards early non-violent Indian government. As the police begin to fight back and kill many people within Bhiku’s gang, Satya and Bhiku decide to take a more violent approach also.

While Satya and Vidya are at a movie during the new police action, a serious challenge approaches Satya. He is met with police surrounding the theater in an attempt to apprehend him. They have the doors closed off and are filing people out one-by-one. An anxious decision to fire his pistol and create a swarm of fearful moviegoers proves costly as ten perish in the riot that ensues. However, Satya manages to escape in the crowd with Vidya never realizing they were after him. These past few events strike deep on Satya’s conscience and solidify his decision to retire from the business.

I believe the last turn of events were a perfect conclusion to the film and that Ram Gopal Varma did not skimp on any part of the movie. The public re-elected Bhau out of disdain for the methods the current commissioner was employing (the responsibility of the deaths at the theater fell on the police department). As a celebration Bhau visits Bhiku and Satya, much to the surprise of the audience and Satya, Bhau shoots Bhiku ending his crime cartel. Satya has one last wish to see Vidya before he leaves Mumbai, but when he goes to see her at the house police arrive and surround him at the door. He begs for Vidya to open her door “one last time”, but she refuses. He is shot and collapses into her doorway as she finally opens it after he admitted his mistakes and love for her. This harsh, realistic ending was perfect because it offered closure to the story by ending in a way most Mumbai gangster’s go down. It really makes you question the route you take to your own enlightenment.

Review of the Review of Sholay

Sholay obviously fared quite well with Indians all over. As mentioned in one of the readings, despite the fact that much diversity exists within India, and there are movies produced regionally, certain Bollywood movies transcend that aspect because of a certain universality. Sholay can definitely be classified as one such movie.

I agree with the reviewer's observation that Veeru and Jay are very ambiguous characters in that they are not rooted to any class or caste or even profession. As such it is hard to to put a “good” or “evil” label on them in the begin. However, through the course of the movie we see the difference between Veeru and Jay whose wrongdoings can be more or less casually brushed off as their cynicism towards social order and conforming to the norms that society presents (ie: having a proper profession), whereas Gabbar Singh's role is more clearly evil, as he a force that is threatening an evident social order. While the reviewer does note that this makes our protagonists more personable and maybe even more relatable to a degree, I wonder if there was more thought behind this particular construction of these two characters.

The “emergency” was at large during the time this movie came out. As such, this provides us with some historical context for this movie. During this time, the masses were growing more and more skeptical about their government, and uprisals were not uncommon. Moreover, close to everybody was being affected by the emergency, and the makers of this movie were no exception. They faced severe opposition with the movie censor board and had to fight tooth and nail to get this movie released the way they wanted. On top of that, they were also facing major budget cuts. I believe all of frustration and aggravation with the government definitely found a place in the characters of Jai and Veeru, especially in their cynicism towards existing social order. This can also be seen in the fact that Gabbar Singh ultimately sees his downfall not in the hands of Police Enforcement but at the hands of vigilante justice, as the reviewer mentions.

Perhaps this is was nudge at the governement's incapability to maintain social order. In the movie, it takes two semi-criminals to put an end to this threat to social order. This duo starts off disturbing this pre-existing order themselves, but perhaps to a forgiveable degree. However, when a larger than life foe that is an obvious threat to said order emerges, the duo conforms to this order by helping to maintain it. At a larger scale, Jai and Veeru might be representative of the Indian population, who are disrupting this new order that is set by a government in whom they do not trust. But by disrupting it they were only hoping to maintain the social order that once existed prior to the emergency.

Response to Sholay Review

Sholay is (though I admit I have not seen many Bollywood films) one of the more realistic Bollywood films I have seen or even one of the more realistic films in general that I have seen. One of the articles mentions how some movies have a universal quality that reaches out to almost any viewer. For Sholay, its universal aspect is based on the nature of the two protagonists Veeru and Jai. They embody the idea that no one person is completely good nor completely bad. They hail from thieving backgrounds --crimes of no great gravity-- but as they develop go on to prove that they have the capacity to change for the better and do good if they so choose.

In Khai's review, she discusses the appeal in the dual contradictory personalities of Veeru and Jai, and I would have to agree that there is some appeal in that. However, I do not think that their personalities are contradictory or ironic because I think it is just a good representation of human nature and how there is a little bit of good and a little bit of bad in all of us.

However, to juxtapose this idea of a mix, Gabbar enters the plot as a manifestation of pure evil. Khai does a pretty good film analysis of how he is shot with high angles. He is the typical villain from any movie, and he works as a good opposite for the duo Veeru and Jai. One good example of the difference between Gabbar and our protagonists is their honor. As Thakur is down, Veeru and Jai see an open route for escape. They decide with a flip of a coin to stay and help Thakur out. Gabbar also relies on chance; playing Russian Roulette to punish his disappointing henchmen. Though the henchmen luck out in this game, Gabbar does not honor their victory and takes their lives anyway.

The closing scene hits a bit close to home as Thakur's revenge is taken from him by the enforcers of the law. This movie seems to put the police in a bad light as they play a minimal role in defeating Gabbar, while heroic criminals do the dirty work. Then, at the end, they swoop in like vultures and take away the justice from a wronged man. In this sense, Sholay is a socio-political commentary.

Sholay: The Battle Striving for Social Order

At first glance, Sholay gives the impression of cheesy trigger-happy cowboys shooting at each other in a typical Western flick. The movie opens with a train entering Chandanpur station. The camera zooms in to focus on two men roaming on their horse across the rugged landscape, as the music transports the audience to the Wild West. The men, a servant and a jailer, arrive at the house of Thakur Baldev Singh, a retired police investigator and a landlord. In his flashback, he explains to the Jailer why the two crooks, Veeru and Jai, are crucial to complete his mission. For the next ten minutes, the audience becomes spectators to violent and intense action sequence as Veeru and Jai, who were arrested by Thakur for stealing, fight alongside their captor to defeat the malevolent train robbers.

As the robbers fall behind, Veeru and Jai realize that they can escape since Thakur was injured. However, after a coin toss, they decide to save Thakur’s life by taking him to hospital. The film emerges out of this flashback as Thakur expresses, “if they had so desired, they could have left me and escaped. They are scoundrels, but brave. They are considered dangerous, but know how to fight. They are bad, but human.” The dual nature of Veeru and Jav’s characters, and later on, of other characters, shapes the complex narrative of this multi-layered film. It is rich with symbolic representations and metaphors that reflect the political sentiments of the time. Sholay, a 1975 melodrama, demonstrates how vigilante justice can serve to protect and maintain social order while reinforcing the acceptance of social norms as the key to establishing a morally sound class consciousness.

In the first half of the movie, Thakur’s motive for hiring Veeru and Jai remains unclear. He wants the two friends to go capture the evil chief of the bandits, Gabbar Singh, who, as Thakur later reveals, murdered his entire family with the exception of his daughter-in-law, Radha, and took away both of his arms. Before the arrival of our heroes Veeru and Jai, Gabbar Singh and his subordinates terrorize the villagers, disrupting their everyday lives and robbing their livelihood. After several confrontations with Gabbar Singh at the village, Veeru and Jai decide to go on the offensive, attacking Gabbar at his base. In the end, Jai died trying to save his friend Veeru and his fiancé, Basanti. Veeru, mourning the death of his partner, attains extraordinary accurate shooting power, kills the rest of the bandits and confronts Gabbar. Thakur appears and demands to be alone with Gabbar, seeking personal justice. As Gabbar lies there dying at the mercy of Thakur, the police arrive, saving Gabbar’s worthless life. This ending shocks the audience. Thakur is thus forever denied vengeance.

The massive popularity of Sholay can be understood through its de-mystification and de-classification of the hero figure (Sholay and the Discourse of Evil, 59). This is evident in the “near absence of any depiction of the protagonists in their place of work (Monteiro, 145).” The heroes lack a specific profession or class position. This notion diverts the hero’s productive role, closing in on “their uniquely human attributes of self-creation, self-realization, and freedom (Ibid, 145).

The small time crooks Veeru and Jai turn out to be unexpected heroes. Their appeal lies in their dual-natured, even contradictory, personalities. Veeru is depicted as a free spirited and easy-to-please young man whose life is defined by his thirst for action and excitement. Meanwhile, to balance out his high energy friend, Jai is a quiet, self-possessed, and confident man of few words. Despite their criminal past, they are reformable. Since they are the supposedly heroes, they can never be ‘evil’ (Zankar, 356). Both are just mischievous thieves who scammed the government for living. They did not rob nor murder people. Sholay, therefore, is a movie about how heroes are made and not born. The flawed past of Veeru and Jai just makes them more lovable and personable to the audience, yet they are still representative of absolute good. Like the character of Gulabo in Pyaasa, a prostitute with a heart of gold, Veeru and Jai are petty thieves with good hearts. The fact that they refuse to take the bounty money from Thakur illustrates this. Together, they are a force to be reckoned with, replacing Thakur’s missing arms and helping him seek personal justice.

Of course, a hero would not exist without a villain. The moral polarity of the movie is apparent when the character of Gabbar Singh is introduced. He is a modern villain. His tall and dark physique along with sadistic humor, “raised eyebrows, and other deliberate mannerism gave him a distinct identity (Zankar, 362).” His demeanor creates an air of authority, of an all-powerful dictator. His clothing consists of modern military shoes and leather belts. Gabbar embodies absolute evil, merciless in his anger. His character marks “the emergence of the seemingly omnipotent oppressor as the villain (Ibid, 365).” As the audience learns from the movie, Gabbar escapes jail and comes back to kill Thakur’s family. In that particular scene, each member of Thakur’s family was killed by a single bullet. A staccato shot rings out as bodies fall to the ground. The audience can feel a sense of pervading evil with the eerie presence of Gabbar during the massacre. Then, the camera zooms in to the little boy, focusing on the fear in his eyes. At a low-angle, the camera looks up at Gabbar Singh high up on his horse. It seems like the boy is staring at Death himself, the Grim Reaper. The ever presence of the gun on his back becomes Gabbar’s sickle. He possesses the power to take life away.

This was also illustrated in the scene where Gabbar is playing Russian roulette with his three subordinates who have failed to complete a mission. They survive the game. To Gabbar’s surprise, he falls into uncontrollable laughter as the camera pans to his other subordinates who also laugh out loud with him. The camera zooms back out again. The scale of the imagery changes from spotlighting the individual to encompassing all of them in one frame. This scene is filled with Gabbar’s godlike laughter. In an instant, he stops laughing abruptly and shots dead the survivors.

In the battle between good and evil, it is crucial for good to defeat evil in order to achieve social order. At one particular point, the movie shows how the evil presence of Gabbar is disrupting the harmony of village life. The camera carefully picks and frames the images of the men shaping copper, another man separating the cotton, and a women doing laundry. These images convey the quintessential peaceful and quiet village. Everyone seems to have his or her own function that keeps it running. They are supposed to be content with their occupations. Suddenly, ominous music plays. From a bird’s eye view, Gabbar and his men rapidly advance toward the village altering the atmosphere from calm and collective to urgent and imminent danger. This scene implies that evil is what disrupts the social order, and it needs to be purged. Veeru and Jai are heroes because they are reformed. Gabbar Singh is evil incarnate because he does not follow the rules. Like Gabbar Singh, our heroic vigilantes operate in a more flexible system than the state could. They are individuals who chose not to be bound by legal rules and regulations. The state, limited by its own nature, encourages vigilante justice to root out the out-of-the-ordinary and non-conformist individuals who wish to commit societal harms. Even though “the state and vigilantes legally and formally opposed to each other,” they complement one another in the effort to restore law and order (Kazmi, 155).” In the final struggle, Veeru brings Gabbar to his knees. As the police take Gabbar away, the village is saved from falling into evil’s hand. The villagers, then, can resume and go back to their normal everyday activities.

On the surface, Sholay uses the humble beginnings of its heroes to connect with its audience. It puts strong emphasis on the capable and exceptional nature of individuals, only and only if it serves the welfare of society and the state. Again, Veeru and Jai are former criminals. “Its vilification and criminalization of the abnormal, the deviant, and the unusual” manipulates the vigilante individual into believing that his action is morally justified; instead, the reality is that the individual is just an extension of the state in enforcing conformity (Kazmi, 151).

The movie contains other overarching themes as well. Other characters such as Basanti, Radha, and Thakur represent important social commentaries that contribute to the coherence of the movie as a whole. At first, Basanti and Radha serve as love interests for our heroes, Veeru and Jai, respectively. However, as the movie progress, they are not just supporting characters. Each of them has a complete past, present, and future, which in turn, provides the audience with a holistic picture rather than partial acknowledgement. In another one of Thakur’s flashbacks, old Radha bares a striking resemblance to modern Basanti in her personality—talkative and life-loving. After becoming a widow, she barely talks (note to parents not to ever name their daughters Radha). She becomes physically and metaphorically imprisoned by her white sari. She has to restrict herself while others enjoy the festival of Holi. Throughout the movie, Radha is constantly denied love as both of the men she fell in love with were murdered by either Gabbar or his men. This helps to reinforce Radha as a tragic figure just like the goddess who she was named after and Gabbar as the destroyer of life. As for Basanti, she gets to be her free-spirited self whose lover lives to see another day. Ironically, Basanti is the old Radha reincarnated while Radha is a potential foreshadower of Basanti if Veeru one day died. In Sholay, and Indian culture in general, a married woman can only achieve happiness once, never again.

As for Thakur, he serves as the narrator. He sets up the social situations and controls the pace of the movie. He brings Veeru and Jai to the village, linking them with other characters in the movie (i.e. Basanti, Radha, and Gabbar). His flashbacks help to create a wider understanding the other main characters while his own character remains elusive. Thakur’s persona is defined by self-blame and his goal of vengeance. His current existence is therefore idealized and never fully human (not to mention that fact that he is missing two arms).

Overall, Sholay is special. Despite its reputation of being a “spaghetti Western,” it is complex and multi-layered, full of both overt and hidden social meanings and metaphors. With well developed characters and exciting action sequences, it is a must-see (twice or more would be better).

Rang de Basanti Review of Review

Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s Rang de Basanti uses modern day Indian university students to illustrate the struggles of past Indian independence fighters, and vice versa. Mehra’s film uses diary entries from the protagonist’s grandfather, who was a British colonial officer in the 1930s, to detail the struggles of Indian independence. The film compares these struggles to the lives of apathetic and “westernized” students and their eventual decision to murder a corrupt governmental official. I think Aida’s description and analysis of the film is excellent.

The description in Aida’s review of how the film unfolds is accurate. The audience first sees a connection between the two groups at the start of the film, and gradually realizes how intertwined the two time periods and characters are. Like she says, the roles of the characters have been explicitly spelled out for them, and the knowledge they have gained in making the film leads them to realize they must follow through with their destinies. I like how Aida pointed out that the boys’ decision to kill the Minister is considered fate to us, but dharma to an Indian audience. We view the boys’ lives linearly, with the filming of Sue’s film leading to their murder of the Minister. However, if we view the world as a cycle, the modern day revolutionaries are as instrumental to the actions of the 1930s revolutionaries as the actions of the 1930s are important to today.

I also agree with Aida’s point that the film folds upon itself throughout the story - the two sets of characters complement each other, rather than one being used to further the story of the other. Like the “Bhagat Singh Topless and in Jeans” article asserts, the characters of the two settings are not juxtaposed, but rather coalesce into one representation of Indian revolutionaries. This article and Aida also discuss the transformation in the characters - from apathetic students to passionate revolutionaries. The wrongful death of their friend spurs the characters into action, and their protest scene is clearly analogous to Jallianwala Bagh.

One thing I noticed in this film as a result of our readings so far in this class is the differing perspectives western audiences versus non-westerners have on how a story should develop. The “MTV Culture” is present in the film and is shown throughout, mostly in the scenes of late-night driving and other revelry. To western audiences, or me anyway, this was at first as an obstacle to the boys ultimate goal. I wondered why it was included when it didn’t seem relevant. Based on previous films and class discussions, I think this is an example of the meandering story line that is so ubiquitous to Indian cinema and is considered necessary for character development.

I think its interesting to consider the significance of a British filmmaker both assigning the characters and creating the entire documentary. How legitimate is a film solely guided by a director who may unknowingly be working under the influence of “white man’s guilt,” as Aida mentioned? To answer Aida’s question, I think the only way to truly counteract the effects of subconscious, preconceived notions is to include those of all backgrounds in the creation of the film, with as much input as possible given to all groups.

I also think we should consider that the boys probably would not have undertaken the actions that they did without the influence of Sue. Does this take away from the force of their actions? If so, would it also take away from their actions had Sue been Indian?