It is almost surprising to observe how convenient films make for us to slip into their projected realities. Sometimes, I wonder if 'slippage' itself is involuntary, or whether it is purposeful? In other words, I am trying to think about the process of placing ourselves in filmic narratives - do we consciously try to identify with characters of a film, or does it happen subconsciously? Because, isn't this process of identification central to our judgement of any film? Essentially, we like or dislike a film based on two aspects - of how well can we place ourselves within the narrative of the film, or otherwise, how much the far fetched reality of the film allows us to stretch / extend the imagination of our real lives. In either case, films are unreal, firstly on the grounds that they are mere representations. Furthermore, they are even imagined representations, mediated by the minds of the agency of filmmakers. However, when consumed through the screen, the reality of films (mind the paradox) almost dissolves any distinctions of fictitious or real characters, allowing our gaze to be unified with the cinema space.
Anyway, I framed the above preface because I saw two films in one day with a group of friends last week - The Lunchbox and Queen - the reactions of which were quite different for me versus the others. It is obvious that both these two films are way different than each other. And the reason I write about them together is simply because I saw them one after the other on the same day with the same company of friends. The temporal sequence of watching the films automatically make them comparable. My critical analysis of the films would perhaps align with the typical academic criticism / acclaim of most such films including The Lunchbox and Queen. A 'typical' academic would favour the subtle novelty of The Lunchbox (analyzed within the given dominating context of Bollywood masala films) while subject Queen to criticisms of stereotyping, use of filmic elements like songs (even when un-required within the narrative), etc and so on.
However, this is not how the general audiences view films, and while I went on to rant about the same old issues as above, I was being criticized by my friends of forced criticism for the films. (I am often accused of theorizing all things on the planet). Therefore, this time I wanted to understand the mechanisms through which these films strike with the audiences (probably like the ones I watched them with), and how they operate towards, through and along with their identities. What associations do they allow the audiences, and how do they trigger and bring out certain aspects of their own selves?
The Lunchbox, as many may know, is the story that develops in the midst of the repeated mis-delivery of a lunchbox through the well known agency of dabbawalas in the city of Mumbai. Two individuals within a city - a reasonably young house-wife and an aging soon-to-retire government official get conversing about their personal lives through notes exchanged within the compartments of the lunch box. The letters inside the closed boxes almost talk out the inner voices echoing within their minds. The anonymity of each others' identities allows them to reveal dialogues that can not always be verbally expressed. Between conversations about insecurities, eroticism, betrayal and loss emerges a meta-narrative of loneliness and love. While Ila's confusion about the recent alleged discovery of her husband's extra marital affair is apparent in her lack of confidence to confront this with her husband, she is able to come out with this news quite directly to the stranger who is accidentally consuming her food she would lovingly prepare for her husband. On the other hand, the aging old man is able to share with her, sometimes quite tangentially, his intriguing experiences within the city through which he reflects upon his own self. For both directions, the anonymity of each other becomes an interesting mirror-of-sorts, allowing to reflect upon their inner thoughts and feelings. While ambiguous and troubled with the suspicion of her husband's own extra-marital affair, probably a physical one, Ila herself falls for this anonymous food-eater who is able to lend an unbiased ear to her dilemmas.
Once in a while, the pragmatics of life become more real when Ila talks to her neighour, invisible to the audiences watching the movie. The voice of the old, experienced aunty makes things objective, clear and rational. Although, this rationality is soon convoluted into the subjectivity of Ila's dilemmas. She continues to communicate abstract thoughts, informed by her real life situations not only through her letters, but also through the food she is lending to this un-named, unfamiliar friend (if we may say so) everyday. One wonders if the tastes of these feelings are negotiated through the description of the ingredients passed along the lunch box. Sometimes bitter, sometimes spicy, sometime salty, sometimes even empty boxes - the lunchbox quite literally holds metaphors for emotional graphs of the lives of these two individuals.
I connected to the film through a different channel though. Last year around the same time, I attended in New York, the release of a book by artist Sophie Blackall called 'Missed Connections'. The book illustrates online story-listings of "lovelorn strangers hoping to reconnect." To me, The Lunchbox was a subtle reversal of the above concept, where the box quite physically becomes the medium of establishing a connection, that was eventually missed. The conversational and public transactions of the city, the collisions within their movements and the numerous bodies which we pass through, check out and sometimes desire - all these ideas subversively connect the story of the book and the film. The film invites audiences to place themselves within its narrative to make a decision. It never shows that the characters meet, therefore leaving the ending open.
Queen, on the other hand, begins in a wedding that has been turned over by Rani's (played by Kangana Ranawat's) fiance. While severely disappointed, Rani chooses to go ahead with her ambitiously pre-planned honeymoon trip to Paris and Amsterdam, all alone to get over her gloomy mood perhaps in the spirit of a cold revenge with her own self (in the dejection of the trust she put into a man who wasn't eventually serious about her). Shown to be a middle-class small neighbourhood girl living in Rajouri from West Delhi, Rani has a family one would typically associate with Delhi. She has enthusiastic parents, grand parents, who quite easily take the blow, and allow Rani to indulge into her post-wedding dream.
Rani's exploration in the foreign land makes the crux of the film. She meets people of different kinds and cultures. Hesitatingly enjoying herself, Rani's character evolves as a simple, open-minded and non judgemental young girl. It is here that I found the character hard to understand. I found the character of Rani quite anomalous, or atleast to me, it seemed contrived. I was unable to comprehend the innocent responses of Rani to several situations. Her innocence is overplayed. It is hard to understand how an adult growing up in a globalizing city of Delhi would behave in sharply conventional (for the lack of a better word) ways in foreign situations.
I was not convinced of the fact that she would book a hostel for living in without researching on the culture of sharing in the hostel. Or for example, her visit to the sex shop without even figuring that she was in one, and still innocently engaging with the toys within the shop as just other domestic accessories was too farfetched. This instance seems specially contradicting in the light of the fact that she was able to sense about the random hook ups of her earlier roommate in Paris, to whom she is also able to offer advise on sex while parting off from her.
On the other hand, I found her struggle with language in the new place (even when the people across the counters spoke English) extremely contrived. While I suspected that she knew how to speak English very well, my friends argued that one could not assume that she was well versed with the language. The communication gaps between French-English-Hindi are bridged by introducing mixed characters who speak different language. To me, neither did their characters seem convincing. Difficulty in speaking the language almost always becomes the key tool to emphasize the presence of the 'foreign'. But most directors don't handle it well. I remember a scene from Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge where Kajol is stranded on the road without her passport, caught by policemen. The whole situation is so contrived and Kajol's unnecessarily tweaks her language to talk to the police authorities - a scene which looks almost unnatural. I think such situations are forced by the medium of the film where there is no other way of addressing such inter-cultural frictions. One such films that handles it really well is the recent Sridevi-starrer English Vinglish, where more than the language, first time New York visitor Sridevi is baffled by the codes of conduct in language, compounded by her unfamiliarity with English itself. I am reminded of the scene in the coffee shop, where while her attempt to communicate to the person on the counter in English is genuine, she is still puzzled with the tangential mannerisms of greeting, speaking and behaving.
I am wondering about how conscious of our language barriers when in foreign countries, and how much do we prepare ourselves to overcome such situations when going to these places, especially when alone? Rani, for this matter was certainly not prepared, and it is hard to invest in this fact. I wonder if she even knew that people spoke French in Paris! Neither did her parents seem to be bothered how she would move around in the place...Perhaps a lot of such details bother me, and it is these details from where my criticism probably stems. The language conflict in the film certainly doesnot define Rani's foreign experience. Infact, she is far past it. She enjoys clubs, bars and the nightlife of Amsterdam and is able to indulge in different experiences.
I could write a separate post about friction in inter-cultural experiences. But to cut the above story short, I was not able to relate to many of Rani's experiences in the new land. And perhaps the non-resolution of the details of the film was what made me dislike to a certain extent.
I must clarify that I am not demanding details, rather asking for internal logics for the film's narrative through which one doesnot question them. To put it in other words, the technique of film making must implicitly account for details to be evident, which Queen fails to do, while The Lunchbox successfully works out. Probably it is here that differences in our views of films emerge. Everyday entertainment-consuming audiences do not question details, rather accept the constructed narrative reality of the films as a given. Films are measured on their entertainment quotient after all, something that takes away from their reality, into a land acceptably different from that which constructs their own. However, what they do not realize, probably is how such fictional reality is subversively assimilated into their own lives, that appears and operates quietly.
Such everyday audiences do not necessarily want to engage in critical discussions of films (or probably anything!) Gauging from the bursts of laughter between the scenes of Queen, I was able to gauge what kind of humour people enjoy, or are rather made to enjoy. One such instance was certainly the sex shop scene in the film. It is incredible how subversively sex creates humour, desire, lust and even aspirations of beauty through films - something that is shunned from everyday conversation in Indian homes. Nevertheless, hushes and whispers in such scenes are almost overrated. The other bursts of laughter were on jokes on stereotypes, and stereotypical jokes. These included particular mannerisms, tested dialects and rhetorics. Academics generally criticize stereotypes for categorization of characters in a fixed mould. Stereotypes are generally looked upon as a singularized characterization of people, and intellectuals generally look for multi-dimensionality of a character within a filmic representation. In other words, stereotypes are seen as ill-developed caricatures of more holistic beings. More often than not, they are looked upon in pejorative light, for their personal agency is limited by the extents of their culture.
A lot of times, audiences probably donot relate to stereotypes like the "stereotypical" academic view. Before I go on to put my point, I must caution that a lot depends also on the representation of the stereotype in the film. While some stereotypes may be projected in a way that they are shunned (take for example homosexuals in Bollywood films), others may be presented in a way that they come to define the very audiences. Often the strong representation of a stereotype allows people to own, and further assert their stereotypical identities. Stereotyping in some way, also brings to certain individuals a peculiar kind of confidence. Such representation in fact, legitimizes their everyday behaviour and mannerism by bringing it into discourse and putting it out there.
This is certainly what transpired between the difference of mine versus my friends' opinions about the evaluation of Queen. However, quite ironically, while The Lunchbox which intended to bring people to question or even identify their own selves by leaving an open ending, none of my friends seemed to take that extra step. An open ending stopped their thoughts. On the other hand, Queen, a film with clear ending and nothing to contemplate generated a discussion filled with laughter and reiterations of cheesy dialogues. Perhaps I am wrong in my first claim then, for probably, while my friends in their light-hearted viewing were able to enjoy both the films, I had myself subconsciously slipped into the representational space of these films. In spite of the above discussion, I am unable to understand what really creates differences in my watching of the films versus the others?
And then, what does it mean to be academic about our view of the world, and should it make us more happy or more sad?
Anyway, I framed the above preface because I saw two films in one day with a group of friends last week - The Lunchbox and Queen - the reactions of which were quite different for me versus the others. It is obvious that both these two films are way different than each other. And the reason I write about them together is simply because I saw them one after the other on the same day with the same company of friends. The temporal sequence of watching the films automatically make them comparable. My critical analysis of the films would perhaps align with the typical academic criticism / acclaim of most such films including The Lunchbox and Queen. A 'typical' academic would favour the subtle novelty of The Lunchbox (analyzed within the given dominating context of Bollywood masala films) while subject Queen to criticisms of stereotyping, use of filmic elements like songs (even when un-required within the narrative), etc and so on.
However, this is not how the general audiences view films, and while I went on to rant about the same old issues as above, I was being criticized by my friends of forced criticism for the films. (I am often accused of theorizing all things on the planet). Therefore, this time I wanted to understand the mechanisms through which these films strike with the audiences (probably like the ones I watched them with), and how they operate towards, through and along with their identities. What associations do they allow the audiences, and how do they trigger and bring out certain aspects of their own selves?
The Lunchbox, as many may know, is the story that develops in the midst of the repeated mis-delivery of a lunchbox through the well known agency of dabbawalas in the city of Mumbai. Two individuals within a city - a reasonably young house-wife and an aging soon-to-retire government official get conversing about their personal lives through notes exchanged within the compartments of the lunch box. The letters inside the closed boxes almost talk out the inner voices echoing within their minds. The anonymity of each others' identities allows them to reveal dialogues that can not always be verbally expressed. Between conversations about insecurities, eroticism, betrayal and loss emerges a meta-narrative of loneliness and love. While Ila's confusion about the recent alleged discovery of her husband's extra marital affair is apparent in her lack of confidence to confront this with her husband, she is able to come out with this news quite directly to the stranger who is accidentally consuming her food she would lovingly prepare for her husband. On the other hand, the aging old man is able to share with her, sometimes quite tangentially, his intriguing experiences within the city through which he reflects upon his own self. For both directions, the anonymity of each other becomes an interesting mirror-of-sorts, allowing to reflect upon their inner thoughts and feelings. While ambiguous and troubled with the suspicion of her husband's own extra-marital affair, probably a physical one, Ila herself falls for this anonymous food-eater who is able to lend an unbiased ear to her dilemmas.
Once in a while, the pragmatics of life become more real when Ila talks to her neighour, invisible to the audiences watching the movie. The voice of the old, experienced aunty makes things objective, clear and rational. Although, this rationality is soon convoluted into the subjectivity of Ila's dilemmas. She continues to communicate abstract thoughts, informed by her real life situations not only through her letters, but also through the food she is lending to this un-named, unfamiliar friend (if we may say so) everyday. One wonders if the tastes of these feelings are negotiated through the description of the ingredients passed along the lunch box. Sometimes bitter, sometimes spicy, sometime salty, sometimes even empty boxes - the lunchbox quite literally holds metaphors for emotional graphs of the lives of these two individuals.
I connected to the film through a different channel though. Last year around the same time, I attended in New York, the release of a book by artist Sophie Blackall called 'Missed Connections'. The book illustrates online story-listings of "lovelorn strangers hoping to reconnect." To me, The Lunchbox was a subtle reversal of the above concept, where the box quite physically becomes the medium of establishing a connection, that was eventually missed. The conversational and public transactions of the city, the collisions within their movements and the numerous bodies which we pass through, check out and sometimes desire - all these ideas subversively connect the story of the book and the film. The film invites audiences to place themselves within its narrative to make a decision. It never shows that the characters meet, therefore leaving the ending open.
Queen, on the other hand, begins in a wedding that has been turned over by Rani's (played by Kangana Ranawat's) fiance. While severely disappointed, Rani chooses to go ahead with her ambitiously pre-planned honeymoon trip to Paris and Amsterdam, all alone to get over her gloomy mood perhaps in the spirit of a cold revenge with her own self (in the dejection of the trust she put into a man who wasn't eventually serious about her). Shown to be a middle-class small neighbourhood girl living in Rajouri from West Delhi, Rani has a family one would typically associate with Delhi. She has enthusiastic parents, grand parents, who quite easily take the blow, and allow Rani to indulge into her post-wedding dream.
Rani's exploration in the foreign land makes the crux of the film. She meets people of different kinds and cultures. Hesitatingly enjoying herself, Rani's character evolves as a simple, open-minded and non judgemental young girl. It is here that I found the character hard to understand. I found the character of Rani quite anomalous, or atleast to me, it seemed contrived. I was unable to comprehend the innocent responses of Rani to several situations. Her innocence is overplayed. It is hard to understand how an adult growing up in a globalizing city of Delhi would behave in sharply conventional (for the lack of a better word) ways in foreign situations.
I was not convinced of the fact that she would book a hostel for living in without researching on the culture of sharing in the hostel. Or for example, her visit to the sex shop without even figuring that she was in one, and still innocently engaging with the toys within the shop as just other domestic accessories was too farfetched. This instance seems specially contradicting in the light of the fact that she was able to sense about the random hook ups of her earlier roommate in Paris, to whom she is also able to offer advise on sex while parting off from her.
On the other hand, I found her struggle with language in the new place (even when the people across the counters spoke English) extremely contrived. While I suspected that she knew how to speak English very well, my friends argued that one could not assume that she was well versed with the language. The communication gaps between French-English-Hindi are bridged by introducing mixed characters who speak different language. To me, neither did their characters seem convincing. Difficulty in speaking the language almost always becomes the key tool to emphasize the presence of the 'foreign'. But most directors don't handle it well. I remember a scene from Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge where Kajol is stranded on the road without her passport, caught by policemen. The whole situation is so contrived and Kajol's unnecessarily tweaks her language to talk to the police authorities - a scene which looks almost unnatural. I think such situations are forced by the medium of the film where there is no other way of addressing such inter-cultural frictions. One such films that handles it really well is the recent Sridevi-starrer English Vinglish, where more than the language, first time New York visitor Sridevi is baffled by the codes of conduct in language, compounded by her unfamiliarity with English itself. I am reminded of the scene in the coffee shop, where while her attempt to communicate to the person on the counter in English is genuine, she is still puzzled with the tangential mannerisms of greeting, speaking and behaving.
I am wondering about how conscious of our language barriers when in foreign countries, and how much do we prepare ourselves to overcome such situations when going to these places, especially when alone? Rani, for this matter was certainly not prepared, and it is hard to invest in this fact. I wonder if she even knew that people spoke French in Paris! Neither did her parents seem to be bothered how she would move around in the place...Perhaps a lot of such details bother me, and it is these details from where my criticism probably stems. The language conflict in the film certainly doesnot define Rani's foreign experience. Infact, she is far past it. She enjoys clubs, bars and the nightlife of Amsterdam and is able to indulge in different experiences.
I could write a separate post about friction in inter-cultural experiences. But to cut the above story short, I was not able to relate to many of Rani's experiences in the new land. And perhaps the non-resolution of the details of the film was what made me dislike to a certain extent.
I must clarify that I am not demanding details, rather asking for internal logics for the film's narrative through which one doesnot question them. To put it in other words, the technique of film making must implicitly account for details to be evident, which Queen fails to do, while The Lunchbox successfully works out. Probably it is here that differences in our views of films emerge. Everyday entertainment-consuming audiences do not question details, rather accept the constructed narrative reality of the films as a given. Films are measured on their entertainment quotient after all, something that takes away from their reality, into a land acceptably different from that which constructs their own. However, what they do not realize, probably is how such fictional reality is subversively assimilated into their own lives, that appears and operates quietly.
Such everyday audiences do not necessarily want to engage in critical discussions of films (or probably anything!) Gauging from the bursts of laughter between the scenes of Queen, I was able to gauge what kind of humour people enjoy, or are rather made to enjoy. One such instance was certainly the sex shop scene in the film. It is incredible how subversively sex creates humour, desire, lust and even aspirations of beauty through films - something that is shunned from everyday conversation in Indian homes. Nevertheless, hushes and whispers in such scenes are almost overrated. The other bursts of laughter were on jokes on stereotypes, and stereotypical jokes. These included particular mannerisms, tested dialects and rhetorics. Academics generally criticize stereotypes for categorization of characters in a fixed mould. Stereotypes are generally looked upon as a singularized characterization of people, and intellectuals generally look for multi-dimensionality of a character within a filmic representation. In other words, stereotypes are seen as ill-developed caricatures of more holistic beings. More often than not, they are looked upon in pejorative light, for their personal agency is limited by the extents of their culture.
A lot of times, audiences probably donot relate to stereotypes like the "stereotypical" academic view. Before I go on to put my point, I must caution that a lot depends also on the representation of the stereotype in the film. While some stereotypes may be projected in a way that they are shunned (take for example homosexuals in Bollywood films), others may be presented in a way that they come to define the very audiences. Often the strong representation of a stereotype allows people to own, and further assert their stereotypical identities. Stereotyping in some way, also brings to certain individuals a peculiar kind of confidence. Such representation in fact, legitimizes their everyday behaviour and mannerism by bringing it into discourse and putting it out there.
This is certainly what transpired between the difference of mine versus my friends' opinions about the evaluation of Queen. However, quite ironically, while The Lunchbox which intended to bring people to question or even identify their own selves by leaving an open ending, none of my friends seemed to take that extra step. An open ending stopped their thoughts. On the other hand, Queen, a film with clear ending and nothing to contemplate generated a discussion filled with laughter and reiterations of cheesy dialogues. Perhaps I am wrong in my first claim then, for probably, while my friends in their light-hearted viewing were able to enjoy both the films, I had myself subconsciously slipped into the representational space of these films. In spite of the above discussion, I am unable to understand what really creates differences in my watching of the films versus the others?
And then, what does it mean to be academic about our view of the world, and should it make us more happy or more sad?
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