I’m sure you BW fans in the four corners of the world have had a similar experience: uneasy admittance of that shameful addiction: Bollywood obsession! You know, it starts like a dream, a nice dinner party with friends at your place, or at the restaurant, and the conversation lags a little, or people ask you what is your hobby, or revolves around cinema, while just before that, you were wondering how ON EARTH you were going to able to have people speak about Bollywood, so much as to say: about you, about what you love, and are so knowledgeable about! Well, it continues as a dream: they do it! They DON’T KNOW your craze, and they ask you what you do in your spare time, or what kind of films you like watching, or even more WOW: some cherishable person actually starts warbling about an Indian film he’s just seen on TV!

You then “reluctantly” admit that yes, you’re a fan too, or something of the sort, but inwardly you exult: you’re sharing that passion of yours once again!! You can vibrate with whoever it is who has liked SRK, Abhishek, or AR Rahman’s songs, and of course you can drop the names nicely, authoritatively… You can demur when somebody mentions silly remakes, because the originals were so much better, and blah blah blah. Then the not-so good part starts: you try to avoid your partner’s gaze, he or she who knows everything concerning that fad of yours, and perhaps doesn’t share it, and who has already tried to explain to you that OTHER films exist in the world; you also have to confront that nagging impression that, past the first moments of interest, your passion is not regarded as so very important by your listeners. They listen politely at first, but as soon as you go deeper into the differences between Kollywood and Lollywood, or something as inane, you see their eyes looking elsewhere as if to find some other people already involved in another discussion. There you are, you are now reduced to the not very enviable status of Bollywood weirdo.

And you long to be left to those dear blogs and forums where you can splash thigh-high in your passion, your life, your dream. Or of course, watch that dear film that you’ve just bought and that has been quietly waiting for you to lift it gently in your hands and drop it as gently in your DVD drive. And when you’re there, finally doing that, it’s that dear bliss and rapture. But, I am now going to ask: why all this? Why this fad? How long is it going to last? How come I’m so alone with this? I know I’m not crazy, but do I know whether I’m “doing the right thing”? Shouldn’t I be looking after my children and family more? My cultural universe isn’t connected with India and Indian cinema. I’m a geek, a weirdo. All this Hindi I’m learning, which pleases me so much, why, kyu? I do hope one day (ek din) to go there, to see this world I’m plunged in through this deforming lens of Indian cinema, and which I must correct thanks to other sources of information. But why India? Why not Brazil? Why not Vanuatu??

So here I am, struggling with my justifications, explaining my quirkiness, like the other day at work, when a little book about Hinduism (“Hinduism, a very short Introduction”, by Kim Knott) fell out of my pocket, and a colleague asked me “Ah, Hinduism?” and I found myself saying, “yes, I’m a fascinated by all that.”. Not very noteworthy, of course; everybody has a right to read books about Hinduism. But this colleague had already, not so long ago, seen me with a teach-yourself Hindi manual (“Hindi express”, by Aparna Kshirsagar & Jean Jacquement), and has already commented on it, and so this second discovery bared me in front of him as a kind of monomaniac which I tried to masquerade as passion. Perhaps it worked for him. But for me? I can’t hide from myself the doubts that I have about the unconscious reasons of my addiction. What’s gotten hold of me? Why has this culturally so distant world of art and life taken such an importance in my life? I find myself hiding the films which I receive through the mail, and congratulating myself when I am the first to open the mailbox and spirit the brown package out of sight. I have this huge box of films in my study, and my children admit it’s my hobby while wondering why the films have to remain in that box, out of the normal family circuit?

Well, there you have it. The musings of a lonely Bollywood fan. Hmm… Does this mean I’m on the downhill slope towards a normalisation of my passion and that it’s burning itself out? I s'pose the future will tell.

And does she get the reviews she deserves? Looking through them, it seems to me she’s either derided for being too bland, too superficial, or she gets the surprised concessions of people who think she’s “in fact a good actress” – obviously her merits are elsewhere – and whatever artistic qualities she might have are often attributed more to directors than to herself. Had she been left to her own resources, she might have remained a model and nothing more. So I’ve decided to try and look more attentively to some of her roles and see if it’s possible to say that she does or not act well. For me, the answer is yes. And yet… “something” indeed is missing. She isn’t a first class actress, naturally. But I believe we are unjust to her, and a little blinded by the hype surrounding her.

To sum up the opposition, here are two opposite reviews (you can read them here):

I think some of the comments said about Aishwarya are rather harsh. She is beautiful as are many other women in this world-you can't say she is the most beautiful women in the world because we are just comparing her with the celebrity world. Nevertheless, she does have good acting skills and even though there are other very stunning ex miss world/universes from India like Priyanka and Sushmita, Aishwarya has made it the biggest because of the tremendous hard work she puts in, which is credit in itself. She would not be acknowledged solely for her beauty if her acting skills were poor only due to her beauty.

Raz, London, UK

She is such a bad actor!, I wonder if the guy who wrote this article did actually bother to see some of the forgettable films she's been in, because had he done so, I doubt he would even bother to interview this pseudo actress. Most Indian intellectuals and film students think of her as a bimbo and a talentless woman whose beauty is just empty and lacking the sensuality of females with charisma wheather actors or not. I'm fed up of her and her poses.

Zulifkar Kamal, Mumbai,  

In one of these reviews, somebody has written: “Talent, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.” And given the amount of conflicting opinions, one could almost say that’s true. There is a certain talent which certain people don’t see. Don’t we judge Aishwarya Rai by our Western standards, which admit partly other criteria? I remember feeling a sort of uneasiness when I started watching old Japanese films: the actors all seemed to over-act, or something. I remember telling myself, aren’t I the victim of my Western artistic criteria as to what is “good” acting? Aren’t they doing something for which I don’t have the codes? (It’s true that Ash’s critic above is an Indian, nevertheless.)

The trap which Aish lays for people who talk about her is that we speak about her because of her fame, which is a direct consequence of her looks. That face again!. I’ve spoken about that face before. People have every right to say there are more beautiful faces, or on the contrary that she is “perfection”. That’s not my purpose here. What I want to stress is the quandary we’re in when we examine her as an actress. We are talking about her because of her fame, which is ultimately based on her looks. The looks were there first. Then came the fame. She wins these first two rounds: we are debating her skills, not somebody else’s, and that’s thanks to her beauty. It is of course the reason why we speak so much about her, and why we don’t want to be seduced or overpowered by them. This beauty introduces us in a situation where we cannot forget that a kind of “injustice” is at its origin. When we speak about politicians, of film directors, we aren’t drawn to them first because of their appearance. For me this particularity is a sign that a lot of what will be said about Aish about her acting is flawed. It cannot be said outside of that context, and she’s more a “victim” than a creator of that context. Of course she benefits from it, and she uses it. If you’ve read what I’ve said before, you know I think she uses it rather well.

Another “big” question (the world won’t crumble if it doesn’t get an answer, but…) is whether she acts well only when well directed. Because if she does, that would prove that she doesn’t have much personal talent, right? And that she is just there because of sheer opportunism. I believe that indeed she acts better when well directed. I won’t insist. But I also believe that she acts as the director asks her to act, or fails to ask her to act. Shouldn’t a good actor do what the director wants her to do and no more? If an actor is good with a good director, and bad with a bad one, well it also says something about the directors, right? Let’s have a look at a few examples. One of the films I’ve seen in which I found Aish playing poorly was Kyun Ho Gaya Na, by Samir Karnik. Type his name in Google, and you get 'I still don't know how to take a shot'. This article is from 2004. One can only hope he’s improved! The author of that other very poor movie, Shabd, where Aish is so pathetic (I thought), is Leena Yadav, and Shabd was her first film (see Meet the woman behind Shabd) . So there again, the blame has got to be shared, it seems.

Erica Wong, from Honolulu pretty much sums up my point of view:

Ash is not the best actress in Bollywood but her acting has improved over time. I want to see her in a film where she gets really ugly a la Charlize Theron in "Monster" so everyone can simply react to her [Ash] acting and not focus on her beauty in the film. And oh yeah, I am a fan of Ash and wish her nothing but in best in both her professional and personal life. (1)

I’ve seen a number of her films, and if you’re interested, you can go and check. On the whole I’d say Aish has managed, more than some others, to remain at her level of competence, which is already quite good, and has indeed bettered recently, even though I believe she had a lot going for her even at the start (I'm thinking of Aa ab laut chalen). The problem with her (as with other beautiful faces in the past) is that she’s got all that pressure, and she’s torn between acting to the standard where people will say: it’s more than the looks, and just forgetting it and be herself, which comprises surfing on that wave of easy acting because she gets all those offers. But she’s managed rather well so far. She would deserve some director willing to use her unsentimentally, and throw a weight on her shoulders. Raincoat was the closest result of that effort, Guru wasn’t quite the same perspective, but she did well there too. So let’s wait!

(1) A film like " Provoked " might be such a try. It's the closest I can think of, anyway.

A good way to get to know about Preity Zinta is to read what she says about certain problems facing Indian women and the life of actors here. The reactions of readers are also instructive, because they point to the good and bad sides of the exercise. Preity is too self-centred, they say, she indulges too much in naïve good feelings, etc. But they also underline her qualities: clear-sightedness, courage, intelligence. And her outspokenness. 

What strikes me first and foremost in her is this combination of superiority, intelligence and also her honesty, or directness. She is a brainy girl, who knows what she’s doing, and will fight for what she believes deserves a fight. She might be sometimes wrong (her sympathy sounds sometimes misplaced and aloof [1]), but I’d say she’s often right. One declaration which sums it all: “I am the modern Indian woman. I haven't forgotten my culture or my values. Yet I am ambitious and work-oriented. » Preity has a strong personality, a strong ego, and she won’t hide it; it’s a take-it -or-leave-it element of herself, and probably she’d say it’s rather important for Indian women to possess such a strong willed character. She professes not to have forgotten her values, yet some people question that: hasn’t her implication in the ambiguous acting industry perverted somewhat a morally pure attitude towards what is right or wrong? After all, if you are part of the show, it’s difficult to say don’t watch it [2]. Well, I would say that it’s also important to be part of something to have the right to criticise it. If you’re outside, pure and untouched, it doesn’t cost you much, does it? Preity is inside, what she says is not without a certain ambiguity, but human affairs are essentially ambiguous, and she has the pluck to speak out. Her words are a sign that she doesn’t stop at intricacies and values truth, even though it’s a shaded one.

I rather liked the self-analysis she makes of her position as an actress, which has naturally been described as self-indulgent. Recognizing that BW actors and actresses are like “gods” in India and have a dubious political role, she writes: “Heavy is the head that wears the crown; that's why it is important to keep a balanced head on one's shoulders. Today I take the good with the bad and the ugly and keep telling myself, "Films are a part of my life; I do them, they don't do me."

Perhaps she’s wrong, and she IS manipulated in a way she doesn’t completely control; but there are ways of submitting to the desires of both producers and the public that she doesn’t accept, and that’s what is really important. It is deeply satisfying to have such a positive and optimistic attitude in this very slippery area of show-business. One good way of realising this attitude is reading about her strong sense of humour. I loved the way she reacted about Shahruhk’s comment to that fat lady telling him how skinny he was: “Oh but lady, how fat you are”. There’s a childishness about her that is undisguised, and it’s built her personality to protect her against life’s aggressions.

Some people don’t like her religious faith, and deride her probably for being too open about it. This is, I believe, an element of her independence of spirit. Commenting about the lights that put an actress’s career in the public eye, she writes: “I used to joke with my director of photography on sets and say "If the world is a stage, I need better lighting". But later I realised that when the lights go off there is only darkness around an actor and it is that darkness all actors fear. Dear God please give me the strength to find my way out of the darkness when the lights are no more on me.” Such a declaration could perhaps have remained private, but that separation between the public and the private is precisely what Acting is all about, and up to a certain extent, what being social is all about. Society means that some individuals are more public than others. They belong more to everybody than to themselves. Ambiguities and paradoxes come from this reality, but that’s normal. Saying your faith in public is not condemnable as long as it doesn’t hurt directly the faith of others. Hum, I'd also like to underline the beauty of her prayer

Let’s now say a few words about her acting. I have discovered her, like many, in Dil se, where I was immediately struck by her ability to impersonate, to be moving, human, and sensitive. I think all these qualities are more or less there in all her films. In Veer-Zaara, of course, and also in KANK, where she plays the disagreeable role of the “modern woman” who loses the love of her partner. I thought she managed to show this suffering physically: she actually looked less attractive. Very good role-playing! I also liked her in KHNH, which people either loved or hated (it was paired in that BollyWhat thread which I have already mentioned, alongside with K3G), but is exactly what Bollywood is about, for me: stories with a mixture of unabashedly emotional feelings that are aimed at pleasing the audience, while at the same time upholding certain human and social values. Preity Zinta fulfils that mission very well. Her natural charm (those world-famous dimples of hers!), her energy, her likable personality and femininity all blend to create characters which are perhaps not always perfect artistically, but certainly human and humane. She’s my ideal of generosity and feminine strength.

 

   

  


So all in all, should we say that Bollywood films are “wholesome”? Hardly, I think. There is a lot of strategy going on. If an actor isn’t young and pleasant, how many chances has he got to join the teams? If he isn’t attractive, he can try comic roles. But for women, there aren’t any other roles apart from those of lovers, or sex-symbols one way or another. Well, you can be a mother, or a grandma. But probably those who are mothers today have been prima donnas in their youth!  Jaya, for example:

 

I sound perhaps very negative all of a sudden. But that’s perhaps because I have based myself in my more enthusiastic comments on that fringe of films which try to resist the universal slope towards sexiness, or perhaps it’s because my eyes have opened on a reality which had eluded me so far. Still, all this doesn’t make me fear of being manipulated too much. I simply don’t watch films like Jism. And I still find those muscle-happy guys pathetic, those Hrithik Roshans and John Abrahams, who probably think the whole universe adores them. But on the other hand, I can’t help appreciating Kajol’s round figure and Rani’s curves. I squirm, but I am manipulated. A little. I criticise, but I admit that I’m part of the criticism! 

Okay, so where are we? Back at the beginning? Are Bollywood films more wholesome (healthier??) because we don’t see people in bed? Well, even if it makes me sound prudish, yes, in part, despite the sex strategy (and what I say above). My touchstone is that I wouldn’t appreciate watching the actresses I love to see smile and laugh, suddenly involved in sex in front of me. And that’s why Bollywood is closer to real life, perhaps. Intimacy is not public, precisely, whereas the cinema is. You can see beautiful men and women on the street, but you don’t see them having sex. Is it that simple? After all, perhaps it is! And in spite of all I have said on Bollywood’s rampant sexiness.

One last word: in her interview with Aish (link), Amrita Garewal suggests that Abhishek has that quality of not being “frivolous”… I wonder if it’s not more or less the same thing: not being frivolous would mean paying attention to your job, your responsibility as an actor, and not to your appearance, not to your seductiveness. A question of priorities, perhaps.