Mughal-e-azam
Jan. 14th, 2009 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321Last night I saw Mughal-e-azam on DVD.
It's a 1960 classic Bollywood epic that was originally released in black-and-white and then, in the 2000s, re-released in a specially-funded colourized version. It's a historical melodrama, set in the time of the Mughal emperors, and it's about the illicit love affair of the Emperor's son with a lowly slave maiden from the palace.
The set is out of this world. It's mostly studio-constructed and transports you to a kind of hallucinatory dreamworld of stuccoed finials, mirror-sparkling chandeliers, gem-encrusted windows and balustrades, carved screens, marbled floors and outré baldachinos. After a while, the over-elaborate decor becomes almost oppressive in its horror vacui splendour, and this is apt because the film is full of foreboding until finally, during the delirious climax, the slave girl is led away by divisions of black-clad soldiers in order to be walled up alive in the palace itself. That is, her body will itself become part of the lavish architecture. This metaphor is very resonant and suggestive of all sorts of things:
the power of empire and authority over the fleshly bodies of their subjects; the victory of authority and tradition over love; the sacrifice for love (she sacrifices herself, knowing that her death will save the life of her lover's); the uncanny equation of the body of a building with the body of a woman, so that all along we were sitting in a palace that is also a tomb-to-be, and this tomb-to-be is also Woman and a prison, all at the same time.
And this is why the elaborate mise-en-scène makes sense, because there is a narrative and emotional and symbolic reason behind the over-investment in the setting and the architecture.
Also: there is a fantastic battle scenes in the desert. It has thousands of extras and the Emperor atop an elephant and a sword-fight between father and son (and that is strong stuff, always in Hindi cinema but also in world terms, I think: the conflict between parent and child).
Lata Mangeshkar who has been singing in Bollywood films since the mid-1940s does much of the singing here, and her ethereal voice works well with the traditional, Islam-inspired music.
I was quite intrigued by what could perhaps be Bollywood's equivalent of Hollywood's Orientalism, a kind of Orientalism of the past (because India is, of course, itself already the Orient).
The film stars Madhubala and Dilip Kumar.
The despot: father and emperor (Emperor Akbar, played by Prithviraj Kapoor):
The mother, torn between duty, marital loyalty and love for her wayward son (Empress Jodhaa, played by the Marathi actress Durga Khote):
Anarkali, the slave girl (played by Madhubala):
Salim, the prince and lover (played by mega-star Dilip Kumar):
He intrigues me as an actor. He has a sort of decadent and rakish Dirk-Bogarde-type face, and plays the role rather intriguingly passively. Somehow, despite barely moving his facial muscles, he still manages to convey a lot of presence and leaves a lasting impression in my brain.
A poster of the star-crossed lovers (I love the forelock of Dilip):
An anguished moment between father and son, but the stubborn, sultry and defiant son rejects the father's last-minute advances:
The lovers at play in their prison of a palace:
This film is very sensual, and the love scenes highly erotic. I couldn't find a picture but at one point Anarkali/Madhubala swoons in sexual ecstasy as a veil passes over her face, her lips moistly parted, her throat bared, and her eyes fluttering. At another point, the lovers pass a feather across each others' faces, and each time their expressions swoon, and finally, their kiss is hidden behind the feather. In contemporary Bollywood films, there tends to be no kissing at all, just chaste pecks. This older film succeeds in showing a kiss without showing a kiss. Very erotic. (No pic found so far.)
The ill-fated wedding ceremony:
Bahar, the beautiful but devious bitch (isn't she great?) (played by Nigar Sultana):
And finally, last year Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai starred in a sort of prequel to Mughal-e-azam, titled Jodhaa-Akbar. I haven't seen this film but I'm assuming it's the despot and his stern and torn wife in happier days of young love.
It's a 1960 classic Bollywood epic that was originally released in black-and-white and then, in the 2000s, re-released in a specially-funded colourized version. It's a historical melodrama, set in the time of the Mughal emperors, and it's about the illicit love affair of the Emperor's son with a lowly slave maiden from the palace.
The set is out of this world. It's mostly studio-constructed and transports you to a kind of hallucinatory dreamworld of stuccoed finials, mirror-sparkling chandeliers, gem-encrusted windows and balustrades, carved screens, marbled floors and outré baldachinos. After a while, the over-elaborate decor becomes almost oppressive in its horror vacui splendour, and this is apt because the film is full of foreboding until finally, during the delirious climax, the slave girl is led away by divisions of black-clad soldiers in order to be walled up alive in the palace itself. That is, her body will itself become part of the lavish architecture. This metaphor is very resonant and suggestive of all sorts of things:
the power of empire and authority over the fleshly bodies of their subjects; the victory of authority and tradition over love; the sacrifice for love (she sacrifices herself, knowing that her death will save the life of her lover's); the uncanny equation of the body of a building with the body of a woman, so that all along we were sitting in a palace that is also a tomb-to-be, and this tomb-to-be is also Woman and a prison, all at the same time.
And this is why the elaborate mise-en-scène makes sense, because there is a narrative and emotional and symbolic reason behind the over-investment in the setting and the architecture.
Also: there is a fantastic battle scenes in the desert. It has thousands of extras and the Emperor atop an elephant and a sword-fight between father and son (and that is strong stuff, always in Hindi cinema but also in world terms, I think: the conflict between parent and child).
Lata Mangeshkar who has been singing in Bollywood films since the mid-1940s does much of the singing here, and her ethereal voice works well with the traditional, Islam-inspired music.
I was quite intrigued by what could perhaps be Bollywood's equivalent of Hollywood's Orientalism, a kind of Orientalism of the past (because India is, of course, itself already the Orient).
The film stars Madhubala and Dilip Kumar.
The despot: father and emperor (Emperor Akbar, played by Prithviraj Kapoor):
The mother, torn between duty, marital loyalty and love for her wayward son (Empress Jodhaa, played by the Marathi actress Durga Khote):
Anarkali, the slave girl (played by Madhubala):
Salim, the prince and lover (played by mega-star Dilip Kumar):
He intrigues me as an actor. He has a sort of decadent and rakish Dirk-Bogarde-type face, and plays the role rather intriguingly passively. Somehow, despite barely moving his facial muscles, he still manages to convey a lot of presence and leaves a lasting impression in my brain.
A poster of the star-crossed lovers (I love the forelock of Dilip):
An anguished moment between father and son, but the stubborn, sultry and defiant son rejects the father's last-minute advances:
The lovers at play in their prison of a palace:
This film is very sensual, and the love scenes highly erotic. I couldn't find a picture but at one point Anarkali/Madhubala swoons in sexual ecstasy as a veil passes over her face, her lips moistly parted, her throat bared, and her eyes fluttering. At another point, the lovers pass a feather across each others' faces, and each time their expressions swoon, and finally, their kiss is hidden behind the feather. In contemporary Bollywood films, there tends to be no kissing at all, just chaste pecks. This older film succeeds in showing a kiss without showing a kiss. Very erotic. (No pic found so far.)
The ill-fated wedding ceremony:
Bahar, the beautiful but devious bitch (isn't she great?) (played by Nigar Sultana):
And finally, last year Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai starred in a sort of prequel to Mughal-e-azam, titled Jodhaa-Akbar. I haven't seen this film but I'm assuming it's the despot and his stern and torn wife in happier days of young love.