Bollywhat?: A year after Slumdog Millionaire, we still don’t understand Hindi cinema

Originally published October 8, 2009.

After the popularity of Slumdog Millionaire, “Bollywood” is a term on the minds and lips of many in the American entertainment industry. It’s funny—even though it’s not a Bollywood film, Danny Boyle’s hit continues to shape how Americans connect with Hindi cinema.

After the popularity of Slumdog Millionaire, “Bollywood” is a term on the minds and lips of many in the American entertainment industry. It’s funny—even though it’s not a Bollywood film, Danny Boyle’s hit continues to shape how Americans connect with Hindi cinema.

To me, this recent blossoming of things Bollywood in the U.S. seems more promoted by producers in film and television than a huge jump in the interest level of viewers. Slumdog grossed almost $370 million worldwide, and while this isn’t an astronomical sum, it certainly isn’t something to sneeze at given that the film’s success was an unexpected surprise.

But previous Western forays into Hindi cinema haven’t met with such positive response.

2005’s Bride and Prejudice, starring prominent Indian actress and former Ms. World Aishwarya Rai, netted less domestically than its production budget—just shy of $7 million.

2007’s Guru, truer to standard Bollywood format, made barely $2 million here.

Marigold, another 2007 effort at Hollywood-Bollywood fusion starring Heroes’ Ali Larter, did even worse. It never even made it to the U.S.

Despite this, American producers insist that viewers here crave some music and masala in their entertainment.

Based on one popular movie that only features a Bollywood-esque dance scene during its credits, we now have things like Bollywood Hero, an Independent Film Channel mini-series starring Chris Kattan.

We even have a Bollywood-themed episode of USA’s Psych featuring Sendhil Ramamurthy, also of Heroes fame.

Those Heroes folks seem to love the idea of bringing Bollywood to American audiences—maybe we’ll see Milo Ventimiglia or Masi Oka next.

But seriously, understanding Hindi cinema means first understanding that it isn’t the only film industry in India—there are so many languages spoken in the country that it’s impossible.

And not all of the movies coming out of India are three-hour-long musicals either, though many films are.

As someone who enjoys Hindi cinema, I feel the increasing urge to say something, especially after the “From Hollywood to Bollywood” night hosted by the Illini Union Board.

A movie like Bride and Prejudice pays homage to Hindi cinema conventions but doesn’t do justice to over-the-top, lengthy, song-and-dance-filled masala films. Plus, we’re ignoring every other language film industry in India or lumping them all together under the Bollywood heading, neither of which is good.

Besides, Aishwarya did Jane Austen better the first time in Kandukondain Kandukondain.

The film also featured music by A.R. Rahman, which reminds me of another Slumdog Millionaire-derived misconception.

Despite many Americans getting their first taste of Rahman’s music through the movie’s inventive soundtrack, it’s far from the first film he’s composed for, many of the others being actual Bollywood (and Kollywood) films.

Overall, despite the sometimes melodramatic plots, ridiculous dance scenes, and periodically overwhelming corniness, there’s much to be seen in and said of Hindi cinema.

Behind the scenes, you have an industry accused by many of being plagued by nepotism.

And while screen portrayals need to be taken with a grain of salt, it’s intriguing to see films that appear so light-hearted dealing with things like arranged marriage, gender politics, sexual freedom, contrived notions of attractiveness and of course censorship regulations.

Sometimes it’s the things that can’t be shown that tell the most about the industry, the relationship between government and culture and the myriad of language groups in one of the most complex countries in the world.

Is the U.S. as ready for Bollywood as the entertainment industry seems to think?

Not until we stop trying to force misinterpretations of it into single-genre, short-length productions.

A dash of masala in otherwise American productions just isn’t going to cut it.

Give us the whole spicy mish-mash of styles and songs, and let us decide for ourselves.

Chelsea is a senior in LAS.