I'm a French lover of Indian cinema, but I'm also interested in literature, science, art, and reflection in general. This blog will reflect these tastes more or less!
Anyway, I am sure you can
see now how poised I am! But even considering that, I realise that I'm biased, of course, that beauty is subjective, for a part. But it also has its objectiveness. Anyway, my question is: how
does she cope with all that? I have often heard her say that she thinks she has been blessed, and blessed she has been, no doubt. But she says it, I’m sure, not only in reference to her
family, her personality, her opportunities, but also, in a more general way, about her face. Because obviously, that’s how it all started for her. Or if she doesn't want to attract people’s
attention to her looks specifically, I believe it’s for her a way to be honest, and admit that not everyone has been that lucky. And of course there’s this constant struggle to exist “behind”
or “despite” her face. To work hard, to be praised for what she does, and not only for how she looks. She knows this is wrong: she doesn’t deserve any praise for how she looks. But she’s the
one who has to cope with that double standard. And naturally, she knows she has taken advantage of it, and still does, even if she is aware of the limits of that advantage.
But, well, I
suppose she tells herself: I’ve been given that beauty, it’s not mine, I have to share it and show it. AND she has probably also asked herself: how much can I (should I) use that face to my
personal advantage? To say the truth, I think she controls this dilemma well: compared to other icons of beauty which the media has fed on, and sometimes crushed, she has seemingly managed to
remain cool, and to perform her duty of beauty queen with ease and good humour. I remember reading on a questionnaire she had accepted to fill that "nothing" about her body was artificial,
and "nothing" was written in capital letters, as if she knew that in her position, people wouldn't believe her if she said it too casually. Remaining natural in the world of artificiality
where everything is based on one's image, and well, she's trying to do that.
I’m very enthusiastic about Bollywood actresses, but perhaps not for the reason you imagine. Of course today’s actresses are beautiful, charming, sexy, clever, the whole works. They’re real artists, and they’re real businesswomen! On their (not so frail) shoulders is placed a good deal of the burden of success. But let’s face it, not as much as in a Western film. Anyhow, what for me characterises the queens of Bollywood, the Preity Zintas, the Rani Mukherjees, the Aishwarya Rais, is a deep sense of availability and friendliness. I feel in them at the same time the presence of a woman and of a friend. It’s such a pleasant and rich feeling. You can fall in love with them, of course, but then that love will be filled with a sense of thankfulness. It won’t be a selfish and desperate love. This love will be filled with the wonder of the eyes, the magic of the smiles, the strange longing for softness and clarity, but it will not be destructive or frantic.

With these actresses, in general (it’s difficult to be objective!) you watch them and pretty soon you feel at ease with them. They are close. They aren’t there to take you by surprise, but on the contrary they give you the best of what they have: a warm presence filled with kindness and that special combination of womanhood and motherhood. Indeed I wouldn’t like to forget such lovely actresses as Khiron Kher and Jaya Bachchan, for example, but that womanhood/motherhood is not restricted to older women. I see it in Rani Mukherjee’s sweet eyes (I remember her in Chalte Chalte), in Preity Zinta’s tears (Kal ho na ho), in Kajol’s seated attitude (Fanaa), in Aishwarya Rai’s embrace (Kuch na kaho), in Madhuri Dixit’s steps (Devdas)…It’s something I see in a woman the minute she’s on the screen: a sense of responsibility, a kindness, that particular poise which reassures and provides stability in life.
These Bollywood actresses are the spectator’s friends, and this comes, I believe, from their desire to fill their roles with a sense of their womanhood which is both respectful of its Indian values and willing to transcend the limitations of culture and region, to open on human values. In short, it is the way these actresses perform that makes us feel they are our human sisters. And when I say this, I am thinking about actresses who prefer (together with their directors, I suppose) to use their roles in order to attract the attention on themselves, instead of on the humanity they are a part of. If an actress forgets, and makes us forget she is there on the screen to turn us towards a better humanity, I feel she is no longer my friend. If I am made to want to see her body more than her person, she is no longer my friend. But if she uses her body, her beauty, her charm, as elements of the revelation of our common humanity, then she becomes my friend, and even if I love her, I am not in risk of being focused on the signs only of this revelation. I will first thank her for the revelation.
Being an actress in Bollywood films is both a feminist and a creative task: the trend is today towards a “hollywoodisation” of women. Resisting this trend will require a inventiveness and a courage that perhaps will be as great as the one needed to extract women from the ageless Indian alienations. It is not by becoming like Western heroines that Bollywood actresses will help emancipating Indian women. It is on the contrary on focussing on what is truly human in their Indian womanhood.
Hi everyone,