Unapologetic Cinema

Watching Nishabda last week was the flash point for this blog - & I watched it despite a hundred warnings, including Nisha's, that it isn't worth a sniff.

And after watching Salaam Namaste last night , the starkness was unmissable. The combination of these 2 movies made me fully realize the amazing packaging of apologetic-ness, guilt & stereo-typing that Indian film directors do through laughter, songs and silly fights & romance.

On one hand is the sophomore film of Saif's 2nd inning (who I quite like for sneaking away Bebo from another man) where through fun, romance and PZ's maiden kiss the director tells us that the man in the relationship should always yield to the lady's fondness and pregnancy. And he doesn't take any chance and so passes on the same message through animated sonography, dramatic Doc, babe in the mall and even through Arshad Warsi. He says you got to get married if you don't want, you got to yield if the girl goes pregnant and you got to be apologetic if you even dare to think otherwise. And we've been, for all these years, lived in the time of apologetic mind-frame. This has been communicated and exhibited to us through movies, art, Kandahar plane hijack episode, ad of VIP undies and long queues at the train station.

Thankfully, there're people who have realized this across the years and have tried to tell their side of it - art movies, M F Hussain, Dhirubhai Ambani, Taslima Nasreen, Saurav Ganguly, Mahesh Bhatt & in a tiny way, Shri :) Ramgopal Verma.

I heard one such message from RGV when I saw Nishabda. The first reaction was of bemused surprise when, towards the end of the film, Big B confesses messing up and laments not only the loss of wife and daughter, but also the young muse! That was as unapologetic and vulgar as it gets. Had it been some other director, he'd have shot the scene where the protagonist throws out the young muse from the house; but then would have shown him guilty as hell and kneeling before the family and friends. But not this one, not this time. In this one, the Big Daddy of Bollywood says he misses the wife, the daughter and also the gone girlfriend. What a twisted old man! Not that I appreciate all such old men, but surely the director's brazen gut.

However, in the genre of unapologetic cinema, Rani Mukherjee scores teh highest. In Hum Tum, she scoffs at Saif's Sorry-for-premarital-sex attitude and shuns his I'll-support-you mindframe. Again in KANK, she leaves a perfectly normal and caring husband for charming ill-tempered Khan.

The audience should, rather than looking for moral lessons in all our films, appreciate different hues of story-telling. And also accept that these are nothing but the images of a changing society.