One of the perils of spending time in Vijayawada is having to watch Telugu movies with the in-laws. And you can be sure that it’s not the watching with the in-laws part that’s perilous. I’m not above watching the occasional pot-boiler and cheering for Balayya and his flying sumos. But for the most part, I’ve had enough of Telugu cinema to last me several lifetimes (must ruefully admit that this avtaar of The Goddess isn’t quite perfect).
There are just three elements to a Telugu movie: a Hero, a Heroine, and an Obstacle. The plot is quite straightforward. There’s a love angle, an action angle, a comedy track, and an item song. And oh, there’s also The Twist. For most part, the story is predictable.
Hero can bash up any number of baddies, charm the pants off anyone, sing, dance, drink, drive, drink and drive without causing an accident. Hero usually has a posse of admiring friends, a nauseatingly sweet family (or he might be a good natured orphan). He’s usually the class topper, the medal winning IPS officer, or something of that sort. In short, Hero can do anything.
Heroine can look pretty, be bubbly, charm everyone, fall in love on demand, sing, dance, have a posse of admiring friends… Old people love her. Young people love her. Hero’s parents love her. Kitties, puppies, and babies love her. God loves her and listens to her prayers. She might have a suitably feminine talent such as singing or classical dancing. She is good at staying out of the way when Hero is bashing up baddies. Her aim in life is of course, to get married and stay married.
This is the point where I start to get annoyed. For instance, In the movie we watched yesterday, the heroine confesses that she topped the college only because she knew that the hero doesn’t appreciate anyone who doesn’t study hard. The hero only wants her to gaze at him admiringly and say that he’s the greatest.
In the movie before that, the heroine’s a doctor who falls in love and decides to give up on her career, her hobbies, and everything else because the hero doesn’t approve. But he still leaves. But she still loves him. And it’s only when he meets a woman who doesn’t compromise that he comes to his senses about what a wonderful girl he spurned.
In most movies, including yesterday’s, the only way a prospective groom for the heroine can be made to leave is by pretending that the girl has serious character flaws (drinking, smoking, pubbing and so on). Because after all, once her father decides, how can she, a mere female, oppose?
For most part, everyone’s job is pretty simple. Make Hero look good. The heroine exists to bring out the “dynamic young lover” side of Hero. The tearful mother exists to showcase the tender side of him. The stern father of the heroine exists so we can see how respectfully Hero can make even the older generation appreciate “youth power”. The villain exists so we can cheer for Hero. The random baddies exist so we can see how well Hero can bash up people. The comedian’s job is to make Hero look smart. And the item song helps us see how well he can dance. In short, think Zarniwoop, Zaphod Beeblebrox and The Total Perspective Vortex.
How many of these movies can a person watch and still stay sane? How many of these movies can the average movie goer watch without having their thinking seriously warped? A great deal has been written about Indian cinema being an escape for the masses. No one wants to see their life reflected on screen, they say. People want larger than life heroes, they say. People like the masala and that is why we deliver, the movie makers say.
I like a good escape as much as anyone else. I’m willing to suspend reason, logic, and my knowledge of the laws of physics when I go to the movies. But I can’t suspend an entire belief system! I really need to get out of Vijayawada (or simpler solution, fake a headache whenever I’m invited to a movie)…
