Monday, 21 December 2015

Ek Duuje Ke Liye: The first modern Romeo and Juliet translocation in Bollywood





The first reworking of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet on screen in Bollywood was undertaken in the form of Ek Duuje Ke Liye, which was the Hindi remake of the Telegu Maro Charitra (1978). Both films had south Indian superstar Kamal Hasan playing the lead role. The film was a box office success, earning a total of Rs. 100 million in receipts, and winning a National Film Award and three Filmfare awards. This was the first Hindi film post-independence in a modern setting to quote and reference Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Ek Duuje Ke Liye also avoids the usual dichotomies that are available within the Indian context such as religion or financial and/or social status and locates Romeo and Juliet within an issue of contention that is rarely addressed on film - the differences between North Indian and South Indian language and culture.

The opening sequence of the film depicts waves crashing against rocks and the empty spaces in a dilapidated temple on top of a mountain. The camera focuses on the graffitied walls, reminiscent of West Side Story, where Sapna and Vasu’s names have been inscribed repeatedly, while we hear the lovers talk off-screen about how their unfulfilled love will become legend for future generations. The sense of tragic inevitability, that is so crucial to an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet but unfamiliar to Indian audiences, is subtly woven into the fabric of a seemingly familiar love story. The setting of the lovers’ meeting place in Dona Paola beach, for instance, hints at the tragic fate of the lovers. The place is named after Dona Paula de Menezes, the daughter of a viceroy, who committed suicide when her father refused to marry her to a local fisherman, Gaspar Dias, whom she loved, and the location is a well-known suicide point for lovers. There is also a reference to a well-known Bollywood celluloid tragic lover - Jai from Sholay (1975) - when Vasu is depicted playing the mouth organ and riding a bike in the scenes where he is wooing Sapna. The lurking presence of a sexual aggressor who has his sights set on Sapna, evoking Samson’s threat of violence towards Montague women (‘women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall’ 1.1.15) and Maria’s assault by the Jets in West Side Story, adds a further sense of disquiet to what would otherwise be a traditional Bollywood love story. This threat of violence against women is incorporated later in Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak as well when Rashmi is stalked by a group of would-be aggressors. Towards the end of Ek Duuje Ke Liye, when it seems that the lovers may achieve their happy ending despite all odds, Chakravarty/Paris reminds Sapna that God is always unfair to true lovers and the audience is once again cautioned against believing in a traditional happy ending for the lovers who have suffered so much in trying to be with each other. Thus, the sense of tragic inevitability of the play is infused in the film in a more understated manner than merely positioning the lovers within the context of insurmountable cultural differences.




The film is particularly remembered for the lovers’ suicide at the end, There were several reports of lovers committing suicides after the release of Ek Duuje Ke Liye; the director was called in several times by authorities to appeal to young couples not to take their own lives. The growing incidence of suicides forced the director to modify the ending but the change was instantly rejected by the viewers, who stuck to their demand for the original climax. The ending of Ek Duuje Ke Liye has particularly influenced more recent adaptations and appropriations of Romeo and Juliet in Bollywood; Ishaqzaadein (2012) and Ram Leela (2013) for instance, both end with the lovers dying at their own hands.

The play itself is quoted several times in the film. Romeo and Juliet is directly referenced in the first instance when Sapna asks for Professor Munshiram’s notes on Romeo and Juliet at a book store she frequently visits. Then, just after the sequence where we see Sapna and Vasu falling in love intercut with scenes of their parents fighting, Sapna reads out: ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other word would smell as sweet’(2.2.43). This is a theme central to this film which deals with barriers of language and culture and about personal identity. The repetitive scenes where we see the names of the lovers inscribed on walls, in the sand, and in letters, highlights the preoccupation that this film has with the concept of names as being part of a person’s identity. The sequence that any audience familiar with the play would find most faithfully reflected in the film, however, is the one after Vasu is banished. His anguished cry: ‘Why should I banished from this place?...Is sheher mein tumhe janne wale, nahin janne wale, janwar, panchhi, peddh, paude, yahan tak ki choti si choti chinti bhi dekh sakegi. Sirf main nahin dekh sakta?’ (Everyone in this town, people who know you, people who don’t know you, animals, birds, trees, plants, even the tiniest of ants will be able to see you. Why should I be the only one not able to see you?) is a literal translation of Romeo’s protest in the third act of the play: ‘Heaven is here/Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog/ And little mouse, every unworthy thing,/ Live here in heaven and may look on her,/ But Romeo may not.’ (3.3.29). This is also, conversely, the point in the film where the screenplay deviates from the play text and other locally relevant issues begin to inform the film, such as cultural prejudices that prevail in India. Nevertheless, there are several moments in the film even after this point, when other themes of the play are briefly cited, for instance, the eternal fight between age and youth: ‘Budhape aur jawani ki sangram’ or the equation of love with madness: ‘Love is…a madness most discreet’. (1.1.190)


Ek Duuje Ke Liye begins as a tragi-comedy but devolves into a melodramatic social drama because of the several digressions from the play text and the inclusion of prevalent Bollywood formulaic episodes. Sapna and Vasu’s love is frequently shown to be self-destructive, for instance, when Sapna tells Vasu to jump into the sea to prove his love despite not knowing how to swim or when Sapna cuts herself by gripping a conch shell too hard in an effort not to go to Vasu and break the terms of the contract they have signed to stay away from each other for a year to prove that their love is not merely lust. These scenes seem to lend credence to the doubts that the parents have about their being mature enough to understand what love and marriage entails: ‘Is umar mein pyaar kya hain? Vaasna’ [At this age, what is love? Lust]. Sapna at one point reverts to typical Bollywood heroines by rejecting Vasu for stealing a kiss. Consequently though, like Juliet, and unlike female protagonists in Bollywood at the time, she initiates physical contact with Vasu several times, which renders the formulaic ‘modesty of a woman’ scene pointless. There is also a sequence in the film when Vasu’s love falters and he prepares to marry Sandhya when he is misinformed that Sapna’s wedding to Chakravarti has been finalised. This digression essentially dilutes the intensity of their love and they lose their way as protagonists of a legendary story of love. The plot twist in the end that results in their death also seems somewhat contrived and complicates a reading of this film as being an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. When Vasu and Sapna fulfil the terms of their contract and finally prepare to meet each other, Sapna is raped by her stalker and Vasu is attacked by assassins on the behest of Sandhya’s brother at the abandoned temple which used to be their meeting place; they ultimately find their happy ending by jumping into the sea together. Their suicide somewhat obfuscates the sense of tragedy that is associated with the deaths of Romeo and Juliet as they essentially become agents of their own destiny. Moreover, neither do their deaths bring about a reconciliation between the families, nor any change in society at large.  At the end we are not left with a sense of the futility of hate so much as the impetuosity of love.


Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that in Ek Duuje Ke Liye we find the first attempt at adapting and translocating Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet in mainstream film in Bollywood and it's influence on adaptations after the 80s is unmistakeable. Here's a link to the film on Youtube: https://youtu.be/xFAhIrZY5Sc 






Thursday, 3 December 2015

Nimmi: Lady Macbeth’s Bollywood cousin or Asaji’s alter ego?



'Kya sab kuch galat tha Miyan? Sab kuch? Hamara ishq to paak tha na Miyan? Paak tha na hamara ishq?'
[Was it all a mistake Miyan? Everything? Our love was pure though, wasn't it Miyan? Was it pure, our love?]

-          Maqbool (2004)








Macbeth, as a story of ambition,  treachery and violence seemed tailor-made for the Mumbai Noir genre in Bollywood already made popular with movies like Agneepath (1990), Satya (1998), Vaastav (1999) and Company (2002) which were also big box office successes[1]. As a cultural transposition, Maqbool is largely faithful to Shakespeare’s plotline and characters. Mumbai functions as a kingdom in miniature, with Bollywood itself as one its holdings. The central players- Jehangir/Duncan and his henchman Maqbool/Macbeth - are the local manifestations of royalty. Jehangir is described as the ‘Messiah of the minorities’, a title which establishes the Mumbai mobster as a type of quasi-divine leader. Instead of Donaldbain and Malcolm, however, Jehangir here has a daughter, Sameera who is in love with Guddu/Fleance. Guddu is no hard hearted killer like Maqbool, as is made apparent by his saving Boti/Macduff’s life early in the movie. Guddu/Fleance is developed in detail as a character- much like the 1955 Ken Hughes directed Joe Macbeth’s Lennie/Fleance- because we are given an indication at the beginning of the movie that he will be the antidote to Maqbool. Boti/Macduff, on the other hand, is not as strong a character in the movie but, faithful to Shakespeare’s script, later in the film he flees to Guddu leaving his wife and child behind and in the final sequence of the film he is the one who kills Maqbool.
The most critical change that has been made to the play script for the purposes of relocating it to the Mumbai underworld is the portrayal of Nimmi/Lady Macbeth as Jehangir’s mistress and the object of Maqbool’s desires and ambitions. 'Macbeth killed for the crown,' says Abbas Tyrewala, co-writer of Maqbool. 'A position in the underworld is not as big as the crown. So we make Lady Macbeth the crown.'[2] Nimmi, therefore, is a reworking of Lady Macbeth’s character, role and motivation in Macbeth. As Amrita Sen points out, Nimmi is a powerful blend of the Shakespearean and Bollywood influences on Maqbool.[3]Unlike Lady Macbeth, ambition alone does not drive Nimmi. Jehangir's mistress is similar to the fallen women who emerge as love interests of rising gang lords in films such as Dayavan (1988) or Vaastav (1999). Nimmi, unlike the female leads of these popular gangster films, is not a common prostitute, but she certainly shares their desperation and marginalization. For Nimmi, murdering Jehangir amounts to more than mere ambition. Getting Jehangir out of the way translates into survival, a shot at a life with the man she loves - Maqbool. Unlike the usual gangster moll forced into prostitution in movies like Chandni Bar (2001) or Vaastav, as is the Bollywood convention for primary female protagonists, Nimmi, however, seems to have chosen to become Jehangir’s mistress out of free will as a means of becoming a heroine in Bollywood; this is hinted at in the scene when she wants to visit the dargah (mosque) towards the beginning of the movie, and later when she forces Maqbool to choose between her and Jehangir.


The greatest influence on the portrayal of Nimmi, though, is Asaji from Throne of Blood (1957) directed by Akira Kurosawa and set in feudal Japan. The woman who coldly and calculatingly manoeuvres her husband by planting insecurities in his head and forcing him to ‘take the nearest way’ in order to fulfil his destiny finds a recognisable echo in Nimmi. Asaji seems absolutely impervious to the consequences of doing away with people who are in her husband’s way. She makes him believe that Miki will tell Lord Tsuzuki about the witch’s predictions and use it to his own advantage by making him think that Washizu is a traitor and when Washizu decides to name Miki’s son his heir in order to keep Miki loyal, she taunts him with the idea that he has sinned for the benefit of Miki’s future generations. Lady Macbeth states what she has to in order to give courage to her husband, but she never plants insecurities in his head, nor does she taunt him except when he displays fear. She firmly believes that her husband must take matters into his own hands in order to achieve his rightful destiny, though why she thinks he needs to take ‘the nearest way’ is never quite explained.


Nimmi similarly uses Guddu/Fleance to make Maqbool insecure and she uses every chance she gets to manipulate situations so that Maqbool must face his feelings for her. Most of her manipulations, such as when she steps on a sharp object so that Maqbool is forced to hold her hand in order to support her, or when she holds a gun to him and tells him to call her ‘Meri Jaan’ [my love] seem reminiscent of Lady Kaede’s manipulations from Ran (1985) and some scenes such as when she holds the jug of water out of Maqbool’s reach when he comes to fetch it for Jehangir who is choking on his food, or her rubbing her relationship with Jehangir in Maqbool’s face at the end of the dargah sequence seem intentionally cruel. She ruthlessly uses Maqbool to get what she wants – a life with the man she loves.
The child mentioned by Lady Macbeth, and carried and subsequently lost by Asaji also appears in Maqbool. Nimmi’s descent into madness is triggered by her pregnancy, however; Asaji’s madness is triggered by miscarrying. This is in keeping once again with the Bollywood tradition of sons avenging the deaths of their father, the central theme in Agneepath for example. The likeness between Asaji and Nimmi is made most obvious, however, when they deliver the exact same question to their husband/lover on the eve of the murder: “So, have you decided?”


Lady Macbeth is not a black villain like Goneril or Regan. As Hazlitt puts it, 'Her fault seems to have been an excess of that strong principle of self-interest and family aggrandisement not amenable to the common feelings of compassion and justice, which is so marked a feature in barbarous nations and times'.[4] She also consciously tries to reject her feminine sensibility and adopt a male mentality because she knows that her society equates feminine qualities with weakness. Yet she cannot commit the murder herself because Duncan reminds her of her father, and she needs spirits to fortify herself when she sends her husband in to kill the king. At the end, it is this dichotomy in role and nature, along with her husband’s growing indifference and lack of need of her, which leads to her mental disintegration.
Asaji, on the other hand, is almost portrayed as a counterpart of the witch in Throne of Blood. The whispery quality of her voice, her eerie stillness, the way she continues to plant seeds of doubt in Washizu’s head, all seem an extension of the mind games that the witch played on Washizu and Miki at the beginning of the movie. The scene where she goes to fetch sake for the guards makes this comparison most apparent. She literally ‘disappears’ into the darkness, and then magically seems to reappear with a jug of wine.
Asaji suggests murder in a tone of practicality. Theirs is a society where one must kill or be killed. There is no suggestion that she feels any compassion for the victims nor that she has to suppress her feminity in any way in order to suggest murder. For her it is a simple matter of survival. However, the witch had prophesized that Washizu would be king, but that Miki’s son would succeed. While she took the first part of the prophesy as truth because it suited her ambitions, she ignored the second part. Her disintegration happens when she realises that she has tried and failed to change her destiny.
Nimmi too lives in a society where bloodshed is inevitable. According to Tony Howard, 'Gang wars provided a modern context for the play’s tribal codes of violence'[5]. The ‘kill or be killed’ ethos of her world is brought to focus right from the start of the movie. She is as Machiavellian as Asaji; it is only her ambition that is different. She too plays on Maqbool’s fear of being supplanted, but the ace up her sleeve is that Maqbool desires her much more than he desires the ‘kingpin’ position. She is the prize, and she knows it. She blatantly uses her feminity, without regret or remorse, to achieve her goals. Once pregnant however, she begins to doubt her justification. The fact that she has murdered the father of her child begins to haunt her. It is not made obvious whether the child is Jehangir’s or Maqbool’s and this makes her descent into madness more poignant. Maqbool always puts her first, however, before everyone, before business (much to the disgust of his associates), before his own safety. He risks his life trying to come back and fetch her before he attempts to flee the country. Nimmi dies seeking assurance that their love was true, that their love was worth this kind of end.



Traditionally, Lady Macbeth is played as the virago or the determined, manipulative wife behind the ambitious yet weak man. 'Like Macbeth’s evil genius, she hurries him on in the mad career of ambition and cruelty from which nature would have shrunk.'[6] Asaji and Nimmi, though inspired by Lady Macbeth, are characters in their own right and can be viewed as such without any prior knowledge of the original play text. The former behaves almost like a mature advisor to her husband, while the latter is the heroine of a typical love story where obstacles must be crossed in the pursuit of love. Taken out of context, and looking at Maqbool within the background of Bollywood movies, Nimmi and Maqbool may even belong to a world of star-crossed lovers in the tradition of Romeo and Juliet, Shirin and Farhad or Laila and Majnu.




[1] Joshi, Sonali, Gangs of Bollywood: Slew of New Films Attempt to Take the Gnagster Flick to its Next Nevel,http://www.dailymail.co.uk/indiahome/indianews/article-2139817/Gangs-Bollywood-Slew-new-films-attempt-gangster-flick-level.html edn, 5 May, 2012 vols () [accessed 24 Dec, 2012]
[2] Bhattacharya, Chandrima S., Bollywood Discovers Macbeth- Shakespeare's Tragic Hero Lands in Mumbai's Underworld,http://www.telegraphindia.com/1040111/asp/frontpage/story_2774803.asp edn, (Sunday, January 11, 2004)
[3] Sen, Amrita, 'Maqbool and Bollywood Conventions.', Borrowers and Lenders: The Journal of Shakespeare and Appropriation 4.2 (Spring/Summer 2009), Asian Shakespeares on Screen: Two Films in Perspective. Special issue (Spring/Summer 2009), in http://www.borrowers.uga.edu/
[4] Hazlitt, William, 'Characters of Shakespeare's Plays', in Macbeth: Critical Essays, ed. by S. Schoenbaum, 1135 vols (New York: Garland Pub, 1991), pp. 5
[5] Howard, Tony, 'Shakespeare’s Cinematic Offshoots', in (Cambridge University Press, 2007) pg 302
[6] O'Connor, John, 'Shakespearean Afterlives', in Ten Characters with a Life of their Own(Cambridge: Icon Books/Totem Books, 2005), pp. 177-218