In Mr. India by
Shekhar Kapur we follow the story of Arun, an orphaned violinist who runs an
orphanage for children in Bombay. Together with the strong-willed reporter and
love interest, Seema, and the orphanage nanny/cook, Calendar, Arun unravels the
diabolic plot of the foreign megalomaniac Mogambo. The film – which features a
number of progressive roles and scenes unique to Hindi cinema – is a landscape of
myriad gender identities, and the politics of gender normativity and
interrogation are demonstrated in the portrayal of the film’s heroes and
villains.
During the film themes of cross-dressing and
masquerade serve to challenge the audience to reconceive notions of masculine
and feminine identities in modern India. At the start of the film, Arun is
pictured completing traditionally feminine roles; he cooks for the children of
the orphanage, gets them ready for school, plays music for them, and acts
motherly to many of the youngest children. It is only later, when Arun discovers
the invisibility watch invented by his father that he becomes the heroic Mr.
India and begins to take on a more masculine persona. By acting out more
feminine roles, Arun positions himself as a liberated Indian male not bound by traditional
notions of femininity or masculinity. When Arun eventually becomes Mr. India
his earned power of invisibility acts to further complicate the masquerade. As
Mr. India, Arun is no longer a person, but an idea, the common Indian man
fighting against foreign intervention.
According to Chakavarty, “Woman… unlike man, cannot
change herself at will, cannot adopt and discard identities to signify a wider
social embrace. On the other hand, it is her fixity that allows the hero to
narcissistically (dis)play his body.” (Chakravarty, 1993) However, the
character of Seema in Mr. India demonstrates
that women in modern Hindi cinema are just as capable as men to change their
identity and act out their transformation. Throughout the film, Seema
masquerades as different people in order to infiltrate Mogambo’s evil
organization; she poses as a French entertainer to infiltrate one of Mogambo’s
many night clubs, and later cross-dresses as a Charlie Chaplinesque-looking man
in order to enter a gambling hall. The latter example of cross dressing casts
Seema as an androgynous, transsexual character who can appeal to both male and
female audiences. Furthermore, Seema’s character is – at times – more masculine
than Arun. Seema dislikes children and devotes her life to her career, traits
which are antithetical to traditional female roles in Hindi cinema, and while
she eventually has a change of heart and falls in love with the Arun’s orphans,
her role is never confused with that of a mother, like Arun.
Of the characters in the film Mogambo is the most
traditionally masculine portrayal. From his chiseled features and deep voice to
his smart military uniform and violent nature, Mogambo embodies the archetypal
male form. Mogambo is often pictured carrying a cane, an obvious phallic symbol
His Aryan features and accent position him squarely as an “other,” an outside
threat to Indian independence. “A notable feature of the male-dominated
romantic drama of the post-sixties era is that while the identity of the
villain is fixed and self-evident, the proof of the hero’s heroism is that he
can change identities at will, if only temporarily and playfully.” (Chakravarty,
1993) Arun has both masculine and feminine attributes. He acts as the avenger,
standing up for the rights of the orphans and other common Indians. At the same
time, he also takes care of the children of the orphanage by cooking and
cleaning for them, and by playing music. As a super villain, Mogambo can never
be anything but a villain, and unlike some of the villainous portrayals in
earlier Hindi cinema, his storyline can never be anything but evil and tragic.
I couldn’t help thinking that Seema is the more
courageous hero character compared to Arun, because she puts her identity at
stake. Arun is able to masquerade as Mr. India without revealing his identity,
thereby preserving himself and the people he cares about. Seema on the other
hand puts her life on the line to uncover Mogambo’s villainous ventures, and
therefore opens herself up to retribution from his goons. In every way except
the most obvious power differential Seema embodies more masculine, transsexual qualities
than Arun, whose identity shifts from feminine to masculine throughout the
film. The gender politics of Mr. India demonstrate
that it is not just men that have the capacity to shift gender identities, and
also highlight the changes in the gender dynamic in modern India.
The ability to assume different identities in different guises, as Chakravarty discussed in her book, was, for me, one of the most interesting aspects of the film. It was fascinating to learn how the actor becomes the interface for various identities across different lines. We see Arun both in his guise of the caretaker and that of Mr. India, as the everyman and as the hero, but in your post you also explored gender as another dynamic of identity. As you mentioned, Chakravarty also pointed out that women in film are less able than men to transform in this manner; however, I also noticed that Seema's disguises as the French singer and as Charlie Chaplin challenge this tendency. You also pointed out that the villain, Mogambo, retained a fixed identity throughout the film. Could insisting on a chosen identity be a character flaw in itself? I would be interested to explore this question a little more.
ReplyDeletePatrick,
ReplyDeleteI completely agree that Seema is portrayed as more courageous than Arun. Arun only actually takes action against the evil in the film once he has the invisibility device. It is a smart move, as it protects his identity and allows him to more easily fight the villains, but as Arun, he has nothing at stake unless he removes the device in front of the villains. Seema, on the other hand, faces the villains in disguise, but she is not aided by invisibility. She does not have any special power that will give her an advantage over the villain, and yet she fights them anyway, knowing that she is putting herself at risk for the good of others. Arun also risks himself, but in a much safer way, protected by his invisibility device. Arun also proves to be much more capable than Seema, as in every situation in which she tries to investigate or help others, she is caught by the villains and needs Arun to save her. However, I wonder if she might have been more able to combat the villains if she had the device. Would she have been more capable even than Arun? He is physically stronger, but she is braver and might be more crafty.
I think that the switching of gender roles with Arun's character might be even more subversive than Seema's cross-dressing, especially since there has been a history of women cross-dressing as men in Hindi film songs without it always having the intent to trouble gender categories beyond the obvious dissonance produced by the gender masquerade.
ReplyDeleteFeedback: Well-written post that offers interesting insights on the performance and interrogation of gender identities in this film. It might be worth thinking about how Arun's character complicates Sumita Chakravarty's reading of the Hindi film 'hero': his hybrid identity complicates traditional masculinity in a way that Seema's 'masculine' characteristics may not.