Izzat (1968): The introduction of Othello in mainstream Hindi film
Izzat
was
the first Bollywood film, by which I mean a film catering to the masses and
using formulaic popular culture codes and tropes, to reference Othello. It does not aspire to the high
culture associations of Shakespeare that, in many ways its 1961 Bengali predecessor Saptapadi does, nor does it reference the performance traditions of
Othello on stage or film. Like other
films of its time, this film chooses to focus on the marginalization and exploitation
of the adivasis [tribal people] by
the rich zamindars [landlords] and
uses Othello to comment on the
othering prevalent in postcolonial India based on colour, caste and class. The
male protagonist of the film, the tribal and, therefore, dark skinned Shekhar
finds out that his mother had been raped and abandoned by his zamindar father and decides to seek
revenge. He travels to his father’s house intending to confront him only to
discover that he has a brother who looks exactly like him except for the colour
of his skin. Wrongs are righted when history repeats itself and Dilip, the fair
brother, falls in love with a tribal girl. Moreover, the fair Deepa, who was betrothed
to Dilip, falls in love with Shekhar. The film thus ends with two inter-racial
marriages and with the zamindar finally
choosing his abandoned son over his izzat, thereby conforming to the dictates of the Hindi film industry.
While most postcolonial stage and film interpretations
of Othello choose to gloss over the
racial issues that lie at the heart of Othello,
Izzat uses these issues to highlight
the subject that dominated several films in the 1960s and 70s – the
exploitation of the backward classes by the rich landed gentry. These issues in
the play are appropriated quite deftly for the purposes of this film: for
instance, when Shekhar is mistaken for Dilip and is asked to sing at his
sister’s birthday party, he sings of people who hide behind masks, ‘Kya miliye
aise logon se jinke fitrat chupi rahe, nakli chehra saamne aaye, asli chehra
chhupi rahe’ [How does one interact with people whose real natures are hidden,
their real faces lie hidden behind pretty masks]. The lyrics of this song seem
to echo two sentiments from the play. The first sentiment is the deceit that
may lie behind a fair face that Brabantio refers to when he warns Othello:
‘Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: She has deceived her father, and
may thee’ (1.3.293). The second, and related, reference is to the natural
association of fairness with virtue that is prevalent in many cultures,
including India, as when the Duke says: ‘If virtue no delighted beauty
lack/Your son-in-law is far more fair than black’ (1.3.290). These references,
in turn, highlight the complexity behind the othering based on colour prejudice
that occurs in India, both among Indians and with foreigners of darker skin
colour than Indians.[1]
‘Her name, that was as fresh/ As Dian’s
visage, is now begrimed and black/ As mine own face’ says Othello in 3.3;
Indians use the term ‘muh kala karna’ [to
blacken one’s face] as a reference to lost virtue in women. The association of
fairness with virtue can easily be traced today in India by a quick perusal
through the matrimonial advertisements in any paper which stress on fairness as
a requirement for prospective brides. The consumer market is another indication
with the overabundance of ‘fairness creams’ for men and women by different national
and international companies. Social and family customs are further proof:
pregnant mothers are traditionally bathed in milk, turmeric and saffron to
ensure the birth of fair children, to cite but one example. Milk, turmeric and saffron
are applied externally in order to lighten the skin; they are also applied
during weddings and religious ceremonies as part of purification rituals
thereby further conflating notions of fairness with virtue in the minds of
Indians. Colour prejudice in Northern India is moreover complicated by the
association of darker skin tones with people of lower caste and class.
Traditionally backward classes such as the adivasis,
dalits and other scheduled castes and
tribes (SCs and STs) are dark skinned and there is, therefore, an automatic
assumption of social and financial backwardness with Indians of darker skin
colour.
The Zamindari system was formally introduced
by Lord Cornwallis in Bengal in 1793 but the system existed even before the
Mughal era. Zamindars were aristocrats or royalty
who owned land and collected taxes from the peasants; the system was similar to
the feudal system in the middle ages in England. It was abolished in India
after independence, but peasants were still economically dependent on noblemen
and aristocrats due to the disparity of wealth between the noblemen and the
peasants in postcolonial India. In Izzat for
example, the Thakur is depicted as being in trade; he owns the sawmill which
employs most of the Adivasi villagers
in the area. His status, however, also allows him to take advantage of the
villagers as is shown in his rape of Savli, Shekhar’s Adivasi mother, and this is shown as symbolic of an exploitation of
the Adivasis that has been happening
for generations. This indirectly references the oppression of the ‘natives’ by
the colonisers, by the foreign Mughals before that, and the Aryans before them.
It is equally significant that in all these instances of history, the
oppressors were fair of skin as compared to the natives. By locating the Othello text within this particular
context, the obvious marginalization of the backward classes in India has been
highlighted as a social problem within the film. The Thakur’s servants are also
adivasis, and only the wealthy are
fair in this film. When Deepa’s father comments on the unusual darkness of
Shekhar’s skin (who he thinks is Dilip), her mother chooses to deliberately
ignore his skin colour and says: ‘Aamir aadmi ke beetein kabhi kaalen hotein
hain kya?’ [Can the sons of rich people ever be dark?]. There is thus another
layer of meaning that fairness gains in this context: lightness of skin not
only indicates virtue and higher caste in India, but also higher class and
economic superiority, and thus, in extension, all the ‘virtues’ accrued from
wealth, such as English medium education, and ironically, a familiarity with
Shakespeare.
Othello
has
consistently been among the most popular of Shakespeare plays in India for
students and audiences since the nineteenth century. ‘More students probably read Othello
in the University of Delhi every year than in all British Universities
combined’, Ania Loomba had written at the end of the 1980s in an oft-quoted
opening sentence to her chapter on “Imperialism, Patriarchy and Post-colonial
English studies”.This is true of Delhi University to date, as well as of other universities in
India, such as University of Mumbai, University of Gauhati and Karnataka State
Open University, as a survey of current B.A. English syllabi across the various
universities of India will prove. It is, therefore, safe to
assume that a majority of graduates throughout India are familiar with the text
of Othello in its original form. It is important to note, moreover, that Othello is the earliest recorded Shakespeare play performed in Calcutta, in the week of December 23–30, 1780, at the Calcutta Theatre. The play has a long performance history in India, in English medium higher education institutions, as well as in professional theatre, and is therefore familiar to theatre audiences both in the original and in the form of vernacular translations and adaptations. However, Izzat is the first attempt to appropriate the play into mainstream Bollywood, almost 40 decades before the critically successful Vishal Bhardwaj adaptation Omkara (2006) and one of the rare postcolonial appropriations that emphasize the theme of colour prejudice in the play in a meaningful postcolonial context.
The full film is now available to watch on Youtube:
