When East meets West; Misguided Eurasian Ethnocentricity

Part 1 of 3: Is Hollywood really better than Bollywood?

For a long time I have believed that the blurring of cultural lines and barriers is an inevitable consequence of the giant wave of globalisation that is sweeping across the world. This phenomenon was one that an idealist like me warmly embraced, as I believe the breaking down of borders would bring cultures together hence allowing firsthand encounter which could dispel the myths and prejudices that one might hold against another of a different kind.

Perhaps it was my naivety that I did not account for the possibility that the opposite could happen too, if not even more likely than the former. The coming together of various cultures instead of blending together, I find as history suggests, is more likely to clash and create more barriers between cultures.

Allow me to digress to explore this thought. My friends have long known me for my loud spoken criticisms of the Indian film industries. I have never hid my contempt for what I saw as a lack of quality in the direction, a lack of depth in the plot and above all the dismal portrayal of the majority population of Indians as simpletons, rude and uncivilised, and sometimes best described as brute in the manner the films thrive themselves on glorifying retaliation against wrong with pure physical violence. The loud and crude dialogue and the exaggerated acting, I find especially difficult to endure. And even on the rare occasion you find yourself immersed in the storyline with a thin plot best described in Tolkien’s words, “butter spread over too much bread”, you are suddenly rudely interrupted with a random choreographed dance sequence or an utterly irrelevant comedy scene.

How do I even to begin to compare these productions that barely qualify to be called films to great classics such as ‘The Godfather’, ‘The City of God’, ‘Usual Suspects’ or even next to adventurous epics like ‘Star Wars’ or ‘Lord of the Rings’? Never mind the plots, even adrenaline and pure testosterone driven films crammed with violence and action were extremely ‘watch-able’; ‘Rambo’, ‘Predator’ and ‘Die Hard’ spring to mind. Likewise even soppy romantic, slapstick comedy and musicals were amusing and if not entertaining. I must reluctantly admit that I truly was mesmerised by the beautiful production of ‘Moulin Rogue’, an unusual film which I thought its genre appeared to be contemporary art more than mainstream cinema.

Although I never may have admitted it, I perhaps may have been silently embarrassed how the culture and traditions of Indians have been portrayed so crudely and so shamelessly in these movies, especially when viewed in the same light or beside the stylish American, European, and even those of oriental origin namely the Chinese and Japanese productions, such as ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ or the flawless ‘Seven Samurai’.

That is until a particular scene from a largely obscure Tamil film left me pondering and questioning my judgements of culture. The scene, from a movie titled, “Vilai Thirai”, a struggling wannabe director has elaborate ideas of producing a movie to match the ranks of European classics epitomised by a solid and strong characters with tasteful subtlety by performance actors who are able to effortlessly draw viewers into the plot. He stars opposite a struggling wannabe actor who is a direct contrast to director; an actor who believes in not-so-subtle acting, exaggerating every scene to emphasize every emotion to allow his audience to grasp each innate emotion in its raw audacity, and immerse themselves in the fantasy providing them with escapism from reality.

In one particular scene, the director bursts out at the actor questioning his acting abilities, drawing contrast between him and greats such as Marlon Brando and Al Pacino. The actor retorts in reply, questioning the director on why was he so preoccupied with European superiority. He asked the director to stop judging him on European standards and reflect on the culture and traditions of the Indians.

He asks, “How can a European (referring to Ben Kingsley) play Gandhi, and not an Indian like me? I have no doubt I could play him better, not only because I understand better what it means to be an Indian but I know what its like. He portrayed Gandhi based on a western interpretation of how Gandhi was like. Can you ever see or even imagine an Indian actor cast to play Winston Churchill? Does it not sound ridiculous? But similarly a European plays Gandhi, and so poorly too, yet the world applauds his acting? It’s ridiculous. Stop judging us on European standards. This is India and its culture, and Indians know what we want in Indian films. If the Indian people want overacting, we give them overacting. Do you think your great European actors could deliver what we do in our films?”

Those may not be the exact words, but basically a summary of the message it carries. Nevertheless his words stung me, because I understood precisely why I have failed to appreciate Bollywood and Kollywood. I thought Ben Kingsley’s portrayal of Ghandi was superb. But the yardstick that I used to measure his performance was one that was ingrained into me over the years from popular mainstream media; European media. I learnt to believe what I read, heard or watched from the mass media. Retrospectively, it is only now I realise that I never really had the chance to judge Marlon Brando’s portrayal of the Godfather impartially. Everything I had heard or read about the movie and Brando lead me to believe that it could not get any better, as though films should be modelled after this fine example.