Self-Exoticism, anyone?

Sanjay Leela Bhansali has a new film out, everyone! Here it is: Saawariya.

And guess what! It's produced by Sony. Which makes it the first Indian film to be backed by a Hollywood production company. Pretty cool, no?

Yes, it is pretty cool! Except for the fact that it's not. Sanjay Leela Bhansali is a fair director who makes beautiful films--that's the only word for it, beautiful (I believe Karan Johar once referred to his films as "paintings in cellulite") but they do tend to lack major substance, etc. Hum dil de chuke sanam was an embarrassment, Devdas was enjoyable but a little melodramatic, and all seem to perpetuate some major patriarchal values I have issues with (but what don't I have issues with?)

Okay, but that's all not important. The great point here is that SLB makes fabulous, wonderful movies...that exoticize India. Which is why I'm using his Saawariya has an example of the self-exoticism that happens in Indian films. It's important because Saawariya is historic--it's the first film to be backed by Hollywood--and yet, in a circular fashion, it is also the very type of film that Hollywood would WANT to back. I.e., why on earth would Hollywood back a Munna Bhai or a Chokher Bali or a Dil Chahtha Hai? These movies are too grainy, too real, too down to earth and familiar to the average Indian (okay, yes, I know DCH was about spoiled rich kids, but work with me here).

Rather than seeing those agonizingly beautiful themes, overseas audiences would much rather see overdressed courtesans from 19th century Lucknow fling themselves dramatically onto a Persian-carpeted floor. OH, and bad classical dancing. OH, and backless blouses. Did I mention overdone eyeliner?

Films have been doing this for decades--exoticizing India--but when it's affirmed by Hollywood, it might be a bit of a problem. You see, Hollywood has always had this perception that Indian films feature lots of color, singing, dancing, big-eyed women, floppy-haired men, incomprehensible customs ("Oh...so THAT's how the wedding ceremony of the Hindus is conducted...") etc. Growing up in a South Indian household made me realize very early on that the world of Hindi movies is vastly separated from everyday Indian life. No, our brides don't always wear red at weddings. And GOD no, very few brides cry when they "leave home" to "go to their husband's house." To echo GOB, "COME ON!"

It's a MOOOVIE, people.

In Hollywood, the life of bigscreen characters is exoticized in relatively harmless ways--such as the fact that a female advertising executive can make enough to afford a two-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side, or that working professionals barely seem to do any work at all. On TV it's a bit worse ("Friends," anyone?) but still, there's a healthy assumption that viewers won't be taking it seriously.

Newsflash: people in America don't know how people in India live. For all they know, overdressed courtesans in 19th century Lucknow is just another day in Mumbai. One time I was watching a song from "Kandukondein" where Aishwarya Rai was dancing with a bunch of folk dancers in the fields of Tamil Nadu. My roommate, who was watching with me, asked me innocently if people in India dressed like that. Forgive her ignorance, but you should ask yourself the question: if non-Americans saw a bunch of Elvis impersonators in a film, do you think they would ask if regular Americans dressed like that? (Well, probably not, they know our pop culture better than we do. But you see the distinction, I hope.)

Or maybe you don't. The point is, the self-exoticism is getting a little out of hand. I mean, seriously, nowadays Indian brides are trying to make their wedding more like a Hindi movie instead of the other way around. Sure, it makes for a great wedding video (Who needs HAHK when you can watch blank & blank's wedding?) but the line has to be drawn somewhere.

I guess the question is, should art imitate life or should life imitate art? The word "art" being used very liberally in this case.