ma
by
Douglas Messerli
Deepti
Naval (writer and director) Do Paise Ki Dhoop, Chaar Aane Ki Baarish /
2009
Who
in the US might watch a movie titled, untranslated from the Hindi, Do Paise Ki Dhoop, Chaar Aane Ki Barrish, based,
so I have read, on the lyrics of the famed Indian song-writer Gulzar? Those
lyrics don’t sound very easy on the English tongue, translating into something
like “Bombay in blue and red hues!”
Well, I guess I’m a sucker for Indian gay
movies—which this film, directed and written by the Indian actor, photographer,
and painter Deepti Naval, tangentially is. Moreover, in its mix of Bollywod
movie musicals, and its centering on three trapped and suffering figures—a
taxi-dancer and aging prostitute, Juhi (played by the famed Indian actress
Manisha Koirala), her wheel-chair-bound and mute son, Kaku (the facially
expressive nephew of the director herself), and a unsuccessful lyricist, Debu
(the likeable Rajit Kapur) who has just been dumped by his handsome gay
boyfriend Sameer
(Milind Soman)—are, throughout Naval’s film rather stereotypically presented.
Juhi appears, as Indian critic Anshu has
written on his blog, in “ a blingy red saree, cheap golden heels and garish red
lipstick,” while Rajit, trying his best to celebrate in his lyrics the Mumbai
monsoon rains, suddenly is forced to mope around the Mumbai streets in the
heavy downpours after he is ousted from his apartment with Sameer’s abandonment,
leaving Debu’s luggage at the doorstep. A photograph of his former lover is all
that he has left and is the only emotional symbol of what their relationship
might have been. Goodbye to a serious investigation into gay love!
Juhi and Rajit improbably meet up in a taxi
in which she is driving—a slight nod to a more feminist notion of the
“taxi-rider” image—and mistakes his refusal to give up his taxi seat as an
invitation for a “good time.” Soon after she is told by her pimp that she is
too old for the business and must lower the charges for her favors. The rain
symbolizes the plights of these Mumbai figures.
It is not very difficult for any viewer to perceive
that the passively nice Rajit and the aggressive sexual predator Juhi, despite
their immense differences, must end up in a non-sexual relationship,
particularly when Rajit is hired as a babysitter for the love-challenged Kaku,
and immediately forms a close bond with the beautiful kid.
Although there might be a slight pedophile suggestion here, this movie blithely skips over it, as the young boy, given permission by the affable Rajit, regains the love of an orphan cat who creeps in through his window at nights, and begins to perceive Rajit as a suitable father-figure.
And, despite their predictability, it is
this bond that begins to make you care about this Hindi movie.
There are certainly still rather absurd
interruptions, as when Juhi, returning home late one night from her sexual
outings, finds Rajit has not only left on lights, but the television, and other
evident transgressions. But that is the point: he is an enabler of normal
living, even if none of the adults are truly capable of it. And Rajit greets
her somewhat vicious attacks with comic awareness, pointing to ridiculous
accusations, while attempting to dry her monsoon-wet hair. He is truly the
perfect would-be husband which she should have seeking.
At one point, Kaku finally mutters out he
word “MA,” but stares out not to his impossible mother but to his now-loving
caretaker Rajit.
If the ending of this film is fairly
predictable, representing a new possibility of family life, it is still
nonetheless touching. Families, as we liberals know, come in all sorts of forms
and shapes. Kaku needs a father, Juhi needs someone to rely on, and Debu needs
someone to vitally protect him. These hurt people need one another desperately,
and we recognize that their needs are what redeems them.
Do
Paise Ki Dhoop, Chaar Aane Ki Baarish is certainly not a great film, nor,
perhaps, really a gay film—despite the fact of one of its central figure’s
expressed sexuality—but it is a caring and loving film, a movie that explores
all the unusual relationships that most pictures simply ignore. If this is
truly a film about the suffering male ego meeting up with the holy whore, then
so it is. Eugene O’Neill, Aram Saroyan, Edward Albee and even I (as Kier
Peters), as well as numerous other US playwriters have written about it
endlessly. It’s a powerful subject that always ends in new possibilities, something
we all might further seek.
Los
Angeles, January 1, 2020
Reprinted
from World Cinema Review (January 2020).
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