Showing posts with label Kathak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kathak. Show all posts

Film Kathak Choreographies of Birju Maharaj

Saturday, October 5, 2019

My last post about the discovery of Birju Maharaj dancing Kathak on screen in the art film Khayal Gatha inspired me to go watch all of his film choreographies that I've heard bits and pieces about over the years.

I haven't featured much Kathak (or Hindi film dances) on this blog to date because, from what I've seen, the way it is presented and drawn from in Indian cinema rarely excites or engages me.  Kathak is by far the most dominant dance inspiration in Hindi cinema when something a bit "classical" is desired, whether in standard song-and-dance numbers or the ever popular courtesan mujras and court dances.  Pallabi Chakravorty in her excellent book Bells of Change: Kathak Dance, Women and Modernity in India contextualizes further, noting that "Kathak is so deeply enmeshed in the cultural ethos of North India that its motifs subtly encapsulate the amorphous notion of ‘Indian-ness’ within the dominant forces of Westernization in commercial cinema."

I love explosive nritta (pure dance) and rhythmic wizardry when done well, so my favorite instances of Kathak in Indian cinema are Kathak danseuse Roshan Kumari's spellbinding nritta in Jalsaghar (1958, Bengali) and fast-paced spins in Mirza Ghalib (1954, Hindi) that I featured in my post about her, but I also appreciate slower emotive dance when it connects with me, most notably the second dancer in the Kathak sequence in Khudito Pashan (1960, Bengali) which to this day holds my gaze in rapture.  But most other "Kathak" that I've seen in Indian films, Hindi or other languages, feel like pretty posturing with lots of what I like to call "generalized waving and flailing ones arms about" that looks vaguely like Kathak.  Easy it would be to up the showmanship and show off some impressive foot slapping and ghungroo bell patterns, or even throw in a stylized hand gesture, but film Kathak usually seems to go for messy spins and wavey arm movements as its main focus.  Edit: And even when film Kathak borrows traditional movements and hand gestures (most often seen in mujras and court dances), it's just not my cup of tea in ways I can't quite articulate.

[Source]
As I described in my last post, Pandit Birju Maharaj, for those who aren't aware of his stature, is probably the name most synonymous with Kathak dance in recent decades, a 1930s-born acclaimed carrier of his family's now-predominant Lucknow gharana of Kathak, a critical part of the standardization and institutionalization of Kathak in the Indian post-independence dance revival and reckoning that took place in his most formative years, a beloved and very charismatic and likable performer, and an innovator within traditional boundaries.  He was instrumental in popularizing the dance form in India and the world, and is still doing so today, traveling around the globe in his 80s.

With Birju (I will leave out honorifics and refer to him simply as "Birju" from now on for brevity and clarity) being such a respected figure of Kathak dance, I had hoped his participation in film choreography would mean I'd finally get to see some more traditional and difficult Kathak movements and emoting being reflected on screen.  In interviews Birju has said that he sees directing dance in films as a fun diversion but that he is selective with his film choreographies, getting many requests but declining most of them [11, 12].  He claims his film choreography is "pure to the core without any dilution [and] highly refined," and that he endeavors to get the actress he trains up to a level to show off the dance form [15].

Birju Maharaj Dancing Kathak in Khayal Gatha (1988, Hindi)...Yes, I'm Back, Hiatus Ended!

Sunday, September 15, 2019
I'm back, my excitement has spontaneously returned, and the blog has had a facelift that's still under some construction.  More on all that soon, but for now, on to the content!

Every once in a while I search the interwebs to see if any cinematic/archival dances from my wishlist have surfaced. On a recent search jaunt, I was delighted to find that footage has been posted online of the great Kathak doyen, Pandit Birju Maharaj, dancing in the 1988 Hindi film Khayal Gatha ("The Khayal Saga," sometimes listed as being released in 1989).  I knew Birju Maharaj had choreographed for some Kathak dances in films, but Khayal Gatha was the only instance I'd read of where he was in front of the camera, rather than behind it.  Kathak hasn't made that many appearances on this blog in the past, but like those few times, this is a real treat.


Pandit Birju Maharaj, for those who aren't aware of his stature, is probably the name most synonymous with Kathak dance in the last half-century, a 1930s-born acclaimed carrier of his family's now-predominant Lucknow gharana of Kathak, a critical part of the standardization and institutionalization of Kathak in the Indian post-independence dance revival and reckoning that took place in his most formative years, a beloved and very charismatic and likable performer, and an innovator within traditional boundaries.  He was instrumental in popularizing the dance form in India and the world, and is still doing so today, traveling around the globe in his 80s.

It quickly became apparent in watching Khayal Gatha that Birju chose an "art film" far from the world of commercial cinema for his cinematic dance debut.  (Note, I will leave out honorifics and refer to him simply as "Birju" for brevity and clarity.)  Kumar Shahani, a significant name in Indian parallel/new wave cinema, was by all accounts a radical, experimental, and avant-garde filmmaker.  Khayal Gatha is no exception—when I first browsed through the film I could not make any sense of it, so I found what some wiser people than I had written about the film and Shahani which helped quite a bit, but much interpretation is left for the educated viewer to decide.

Writings on the film [1,2,3,4] describe Khayal Gatha as an experimental and sensory exploration of real and invented Indian legends, traditions, and performing arts from the past five centuries to the contemporary period, many related to the vocal tradition of Khayal, a genre of North Indian/Hindustani classical/semi-classical music that is heard throughout the film and as a style features improvisation, microtones and gliding between notes, and a varied range of classical, folk, and popular sources that the film is greatly inspired by.  The lead character, portrayed by actor Rajat Kapoor in his debut (whom I can never unsee as anything but the creepy pedophile in Monsoon Wedding!), is a wanderer and seeker who is at times an observer and other times takes on the personas of the various legendary figures being depicted.  Plenty of allegory, abstraction, metaphor, repeated scenes, and a lack of chronological storytelling tick the experimental boxes, and the dialogues are often philosophical and meant to inspire thought.  Ultimately, the film can be interpreted in very complex ways in relation to the wounds of historical loss, the human sensory experience, cyclical movements and the nature of time, and much more that's beyond the scope of this post...and beyond my comprehension.

Director Kumar Shahani used dance and music in many of his films.  His work has been featured on the blog before when I posted about excitedly finding dances from Shahani’s later films Bhavantarana (1991), featuring the late Odissi Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra and other famous Odissi dancers, and Bamboo Flute (2000), featuring dances by Mohapatra as well as Alarmel Valli.

I was heartened to read that Khayal Gatha features key musical contributions (and I assume on-screen appearances) "by some of the foremost musicians from the Gwalior gharana" of Indian classical music [5].  But of course, of most interest to this blog is that the great Birju Maharaj dances in a feature film!  We get to see him three times totaling about seven minutes of footage spread out over two primarily pure dance pieces and one expressive piece.  There's also a Kathak dance practice scene by two women, and you know how I love a good practice dance!

Watching other performance and demonstration footage of Birju dancing online, he is among the great performers who have so imbibed and internalized a dance form and all its associated complexities that his performances look effortless and a part of his very being.  For those who don't know who he is, Birju at first glance isn't the most handsome male dancer, doesn't have that "ideal" body shape, and wears simple clothing, but on watching him perform, these things quickly become irrelevant.

Dances in Khayal Gatha

Introductory Dance - Birju Maharaj's first dance in the film, and the film itself, are said to be visually inspired by Mughal miniature paintings, which often feature the "framing of a figure against a window" or vacant space [2] From behind an empty door frame, rhythmic sounds precede Birju's movements into view. He depicts a horse and horse riding, a common sight and method of transport throughout the film as the wanderer makes his journey, and soon "gallops" off screen to a cut of his truncated dancing body framed by a window, the lighting inverted.

Birju's assuredness and style of movement is commanding!  Regrettably, his dance lasts less than a minute, soon interrupted by the wandering protagonist (Rajat Kapoor) slowly walking by and gazing at the dancer in the window. The wanderer knocks on the door, and a woman answers—she (actress Alaknanda Samarth) is an oracle-type seen throughout the film in different avatars, provoking philosophical/critical thought and learning in the wanderer.  The oracle leads the wanderer to her guru, and unties cloth that had been wrapped around his feet.  What does that mean, I wonder?  When the wanderer responds to the oracle's question "to what are you bound," her reply is, intriguingly, interpreted by cinema studies scholar Laleen Jayamanne [2] to refer to the notion of "the mere exact repetition of the form without an internalization of its spirit [being] rejected as unworthy of the tradition," a sentiment applicable to the dance tradition shown the film as well as the film's philosophical yearnings.

Video starts 56:08


Classical Dances in Recent Indian Films - Including Sattriya and Kootiyattam!

Sunday, August 17, 2014
While I've been mostly looking back in history as I've blogged about Indian film dances for the past few years, a number of films have released in recent years with songs or scenes featuring classical dance forms. Having collected enough for a robust post and also making some great discoveries this weekend, I'm excited to take a break from research and share what the classical movie dance world has produced recently. I'm sure I've missed some—do let me know of any others!

Vara: A Blessing (2013, Coproduction) - Screened at various film festivals since it's debut but apparently not commercially released in theaters or on DVD, Vara: A Blessing has been described as "a visually stunning exploration of the cross between spiritual devotion and bodily temptation that incorporates hypnotic use of tradition Indian dance and music" and as a work "Accented by mesmerizing bursts of classical Indian dance, haunting vocals, and vivid Hindu fantasyscapes..." With choreography by the accomplished Bharatanatyam dancer Geeta Chandran, music by Nitin Sawhney, and sumptuous visuals and effects by the crew, the dances as seen in the few clips available online make the film an absolute must watch. It's not an Indian film since it's directed by the Bhutanese lama filmmaker Khyentse Norbu with help from various countried folk, but it is set in India and was made with many Indian actors, so it is perhaps a Bhutanese/Indian/international coproduction.

This is the clip that took my breath away and has me aching to watch the film. In it, the main character Lila (Odissi dancer Shahana Goswami) dances Bharatanatyam under the nattuvangam of her mother Vinata (Geeta Chandran), the village's last devadasi. Based on Variety's review of the film which describes how the tribal leader tries to "pimp out Lila" while finding a match for a woman's son, the man staring at her as she dances is likely either the son or the tribal leader. Like him, I can't keep my eyes away from Shahana's face which registers constant emotion and danger that is enhanced by the lighting design and shadows. The entire clip has an ominous, creepy tension. Thanks to Ragothaman for pointing out this clip from Chandran's Facebook page.


Film Classical Dances of Roshan Kumari

Saturday, December 8, 2012
I’ve found two new Roshan Kumari film dances online! One seems to have not been available for public view until recently thanks to Angel (Basanta Bahara) and the other shows her dancing pure Kathak in a Films Division documentary (Kathak) that I've uploaded.

I’ve blogged before about her exquisite Kathak in Indian cinema, but I’ve never done a dedicated post and thought it was high time.  For a nice overview of Roshan Kumari’s background, I recommend a visit to an informational page about her created by one of her students, Mukta Joshi.  I also recommend visiting Richard's post about her at his Dances on the Footpath blog, where I'm quite sure I first learned about Roshan.

I want to get straight to talking about her exquisite Kathak.  What I love most about her style, and what is featured in most of her film dances, is her explosive nritta (pure, non-interpretive dance).  Most of the Kathak found in Indian films tends toward the courtesan/Mujra style of Kathak with a focus on abhinaya (expressive interpretation), lyrical poetry, and a slower pace to show off the dancer's feminine charms.  In cases where the pace quickens to feature footwork and spins, the dances still aren't up to par and the dancer's lack of lengthy Kathak training usually shows (or in the case of Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje, the dancer (Gopi Krishna) is clearly trained but "spices up" the dance for film so much that it strays from classical Kathak).  Film Kathak often features close-up shots of the dancer's footwork, but it's almost always a shadow of the real thing.  There are a few film dances, however, that are gleaming exceptions to the rule in their presentation of rhythmic, technical Kathak, and the star of this style is undoubtedly Roshan Kumari.  She is responsible for the best technical Kathak in Indian cinema, I say! 

Malavika's Dances and the film Ananda Bhairavi (1983, Telugu/Kannada)

Friday, January 6, 2012
Some of my top favorite classical dances in Indian films can be found in the relatively-obscure 1983 film Ananda Bhairavi (made in Telugu and Kannada). I've finally learned enough about the dancers in this film, and the film itself, to give the film some recognition and praise its main dancer, Malavika!

Film Background and Plot

From Cinegoer.com
Ananda Bhairavi is a very low-budget, village-based film about traditional practitioners of the Indian classical dance form Kuchipudi and their personal struggles with tradition in relationships.  It is apparently set in the actual Kuchipudi village in Andhra Pradesh where the dance form originated and got its name. 

Surprisingly, the film is said to have beat Saagara Sangamam (Salangai Oli in dubbed Tamil) for the coveted Golden Nandi Award in the 1983 Telugu state awards.  K. Vishwanath did not direct this film as one might assume; it was actually directed by Jandhyala who was best known for directing Telugu comedy films but had a connection to K. Vishwanath in writing dialogues for many of his dance and culture films (including, amusingly, Saagara Sangamam).  Unfortunately, it seems the film was not a big commercial success and has largely been forgotten, especially when compared to the similar film released that same year, Saagara Sangamam.  I think it was because Ananda Bhairavi just wasn't on the same magical level as its successful peer films about dance that followed in Shankarabharanam's footsteps; the film is also a bit rough around the edges and feels a little "claustrophobic" in that, outside of the songs, most scenes are just people talking and the viewer doesn't feel very engaged.

I've watched both the Telugu and Kannada versions of the film, and the dialogue and character-specific scenes were reshot for each language version while the dances seem to be edited slightly differently but not reshot (except for dialogue segments). Since neither version had English subtitles (despite the Kannada DVD by Moser Baer saying it has subs--liars!), I've resorted to gathering the unclear details about the plot from bits of chatter online.

The film tells the story of a Kuchipudi guru (Girish Karnad) whose young son Rajeev does not want to learn the family dance tradition and runs away.  The guru, impressed by the folk dance performance of a little girl named Bhairavi in his village, "adopts" Bhairavi to learn Kuchipudi dance in a traditional, guru-shishya relationship.  Since women learning Kuchipudi was not a traditionally accepted practice at the time, the guru is shunned by the traditional community in his village. The guru presses on teaching the girl who grows into a stunning Kuchipudi dancer (Malavika).  When Bhairavi runs into the guru's now-grown son Rajeev (Rajesh), the two fall in love much to the dismay of the guru. Why the guru is unhappy about the relationship is not clear; one person online said it was because the guru saw his son as an obstacle between the guru's protege and his pride, while another said it was because the girl was from a low caste and the guru's traditional values could not allow him to accept such a person as a daughter-in-law through marriage.  Whatever the reason, it appears that the guru, finally seeing the hypocrisy of his going against tradition to train a female Kuchipudi dancer but not letting Bhairavi go against tradition in marriage choice, approves of the marriage and the two are wed.  The film ends on an artsy note which I won't spoil but involves the guru performing a thrilling tandav dance.

Girish Karnad as the Kuchipudi guru

Malavika as Bhairavi, the guru's student

Rajesh as Rajeev, Bhairavi's love interest


The Dancers Behind the Dances

Finally! I have identified the two main dancers seen in this film!  They are:

Malavika.  The female dancer in the film, the adult Bhairavi character, has been credited online as Malavika (and occasionally Mallika).  I found a confirmation that her name is indeed Malavika over on the Idlebrain discussion boards where a commenter identified the actress as Malavika, said Malavika was an Odissi dancer, and claimed she had closely followed Malavika's dance programs on Doordarshan.  So who is this Malavika and what is her last name?  After going on a little Minai-research-journey I haven't had much success.  She is clearly not the famous dancer Malavika Sarukkai or the Hindi film and Doordarshan serial-starrer Malavika Tiwari. The one person I am stuck on is the dancer Malavika Venkatasubbaiah who has a striking resemblance (those almond-shaped eyes!) and  has studied Bharatanatyam, Odissi, and Kuchipudi.  The only problem is that she looks too young (the Ananda Bhairavi Malavika would have aged 30 years by now), and her bio says she trained under her main Bharatanatyam guru starting in 1990 and has been an "active performer for over 14 years."  But... just look at this resemblance:

Ananda Bhairavi Malavika (left), Malavika Venkatsubbaiah (right)

It seems that Malavika, whoever she is, never acted in any other films and was a "one hit dance wonder."  Such a shame, as she was incredibly gifted.  If I do ever confirm her real identity, I will come back and edit this post; I'm just dying to see some of her other dances!  EDIT: The actress' identity seems to be Malavika Sarkar; see the excellent discussion in the comments!  EDIT: Please see my recent post with visual proof of Malavika Sarkar and her history!



Bhagavathula Venkata Rama Sarma.  I received a lovely comment on the Telugu-version song "Koluvaithiva Ranga Sai" I posted on YouTube; it was the male dancer's son identifying the dancer as his dad, Bhagavathula Venkata Rama Sarma, a leading Kuchipudi dance master in Andhra Pradesh who currently runs the dance institute Sri Nrutya KalaSala and is director of the Sri Nrutya Art Academy.  See!  This is exactly why I love blogging and posting videos as it brings together people and information in unprecedented ways.  How nice to see that the dancer is still active in dance nearly 30 years later.

The Dances!

And now, my favorite part of the film: all the wonderful dances!  Since the Telugu version's print is really terrible and damaged (the DVD makers even formally apologize before the film plays), all the videos below are from the Kannada version.

"Guru Brahma" (Telugu version) - This is the first of two "practice" songs in the film, but unlike most it shows the actual guru-shishya relationship and teachings of the mudras (hand gestures).  The little girl who plays the young Bhairavi is completely adorable, and quite a good dancer. 




"Chaitrada Kusumaanjali" (Chaithramu Kusumanjali in Telugu) - Continuing from the video above, here we see young-Bhairavi turn into young-woman-Bhairavi played by the amazing Malavika! This is the first glimpse we have of her beautiful, geometric lines. Despite the lower production values, there are clear attempts at creating beautiful visuals.



"Malagiruveya Ranganatha" (Koluvaithiva Rangasayi in Telugu) - This is the first dance competition where Bhairavi (Malavika) is pitted against a male Kuchipudi dancer (Bhagavathula Venkata Rama Sarma) and gets to prove her mettle!  Unfortunately, due to the drama seen in the song, Bhairavi is distracted (understandably!) and loses much to the dismay of her guru who felt this was his opportunity to show that traditional community that teaching a girl Kuchipudi was a fruitful and worthy decision (I think). Though the editors favor lots of short, choppy cuts, what's left is the exquisite visuals of Malavika's sharp posture and lines.  She elevates her choreography to something that I can watch repeatedly.  I don't even know quite how to put it into words... she's just brilliant.



"Shiva Tandava" - This is the second dance competition between Bhairavi and the male Kuchipudi dancer, and this time it's a fiery and passionate Tandav!  As I noted on my post about Tandav dances, I love the energy these kinds of dances create.  It's electrifying, and this song does a great job in ramping up the excitement (aided through tons of quick editing cuts) more and more until the climax.  Luckily Bhairavi wins this round which garners she and her guru the support of the traditional crowd who had not been pleased thus far.



"Thillana" - A four-stage dance number featuring Kuchipudi (by Malavika), Kathak, Manipuri, and Kathakali dancers! What a rare treat to see all four attempted in a film song in what appears to be decently authentic costumes and inspired choreography.  The best part is the rousing finale as each drum enters in succession and all four dancers are visible on screen.



"Haaduva Muraliya" (Pilichina Muraliki in Telugu) - The romantic song in the bunch, here Rajeev and Bhairavi prance about and admire each other's post-puberty status (Bhairavi really digs Rajeev's chest hair!). Bhairavi has some cute little mini dance moves throughout.  Note that the beginning does a skip a little bit. 



Practice Scenes - I remember when I first watched this scene long ago I was new to South Indian films and completely captivated by Malavika's half sari! Recognize the song they are singing?  It's the same one, Raghuvamsha Sudha, that Kamal Hassan danced to in Sanam Teri Kasam, and apparently it's a popular Carnatic music piece.




"Baa Baa Raagavaagi" (Raa Raa Ragamai in Telugu) - Rajeev, Bhairavi's thwarted love interest, crashes her wedding and inspires Bhairavi to perform a tandav dance and reunite!  There's a little too much of Rajeev getting beaten up and kicked out (they even try to smash his dear flute!) but once Bhairavi starts her dance it's pretty awesome. 



Ending Tandav Dance - Girish Karnad gives one last performance with a powerful tandav dance performed in an altered state.  The choreography is simple but effective in transmitting the power of the dance and moment to us, the viewer.  There's a spoiler right after this scene, so I'll leave it at that!



Coming soon... two more posts about underappreciated dancers in underappreciated 80s films!

Indian Dances in Western Films about India: Part 1 (The Classical Era)

Monday, November 7, 2011
Still from Kama Sutra (1996)
Throughout the past few years, I've not given much attention to historical films about India made in the West.  When I was reminded of the Odissi-inspired dances in Mira Nair's Kama Sutra a few weeks back, I had a sudden urge to answer the question "how have Indian dances been presented in Western historical films about India?"  A new project was born!

Little did I realize that researching that question leads to the fascinating and complex topic of the depiction of the British empire in India and the British Raj through cinema and television miniseries released back to the early 1900s.  There was practically an entire genre of adventure and action "empire films" in the 1930s made by the UK and the US, and the 1980s saw a resurgence of interest in India as evidenced by the many films and lavish miniseries released about the subject.  Critical to my research have been sites like these which give excellent lists of empire films and films about India: The British Empire in Film (archived here), and The British Empire.

From Kim (1950)
These productions give a fascinating glimpse into how British and other Western cultures constructed a view of their activities in India/South Asia and how that view changed over time.  Especially in older films, the British empire in India is painted as a valiant effort to save a "backwards" people from succumbing to their "intractable problems."  Indians are presented as exotic, simultaneously fascinating yet barbaric, and in need of British and Western intervention.  Often the films are propaganda pieces to garner public support of the occupation and military presence.  I'll discuss a bit more detail in Part 3 of this series.

For some fascinating reading on the subject, I would recommend the following books which you can preview much of on Google Books: Colonial India and the Making of Empire Cinema, and Cinema at the End of Empire: Politics of Transition in Britain and India; these look to be interesting books too but aren't available for preview: Outsider Films on India 1950-1990, and Projecting Empire: Imperialism and Empire Cinema.

From Der Tiger Von Eschnapur (1938)
So amid such orientalist and imperial attitudes, how were Indian dances treated in these films? Did white women in brownface just wave their hands around in some sort of bastardized Persian "bellydance" with unusual costumes?  Were any authentic South Asian movements utilized in the choreography?  Did representations change as the years passed? In attempting to answer these questions, I've split this post into three parts: Part 1 (The Classical Era), Part 2 (Rare Dances), and Part 3 (Orientalism). [Update: Also Part 4 (Coproductions)]

I've selected dances mostly from Western historical films about India due to their serious or propagandist attempt at presenting India's history and showing (or not even bothering to research and show) authentic, classical-based and/or courtly dance forms.  Modern films like The Love Guru or Marigold with lighthearted or modern "Bollywood" dances have not been included nor have documentaries like Louis Malle's Phantom India because the concern here is about authentic Indian dances being presented in constructed, artistic accounts of the past.

Part 1

The most authentic and beautiful dances in Western historical films and miniseries about India seem to be found in productions from the 1980s with the exception of 1951's The River.  The 80s saw a resurgence in interest about India in the UK and the US that was reflected in all the releases about the subject (or perhaps because of the releases?).  Think The Jewel in the Crown (1984), A Passage to India (1984), Peter Brooks' The Mahabharata (1989), Gandhi (1982), and even Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984).  What was it that led to such a Western fascination about India at that time?  Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened because productions of this period finally featured some decent Indian dances to show to Western film viewers.

The question remaining is why were these 80s productions leaps and bounds ahead of their predecessors in presenting Indian dance with degrees of authenticity?  I think the answer lies obviously in the motivation of the films production.  A 1930s film was concerned with presenting an exotic India and probably never bothered with researching the authenticity of "base" dance forms.  Understanding what the 1980s films were concerned with is beyond my knowledge as it would require not only watching all of the films and miniseries and assessing their motivations but also understanding how Britain (and the US) were processing their colonial pasts at that time.  But clearly enough time had passed by the 80s that perhaps enough postcolonial assessment and reflection had accumulated to spur film productions that actually sought out more honest depictions of the past including honest, authentic depictions of dance.  What's surprised me the most is that after the 1980s, dance depictions seemed to revert back to less authenticity.  What was it about the 80s!  I'm sure there is lots of academic authorship on this subject; another topic to pursue!

Lord Mountbatten: The Last Viceroy (1986, UK, TV Miniseries) - This Masterpiece Theatre miniseries gets a gold star for having the most authentic classical dance of the series!  I knew it was going to be great when one of the characters actually identifies the dance to the British as Kathak (wow! It's not just some generic "Indian dance" or "Nautch dance").  But I was floored when the dance began and I saw famous Kathak danseuse Saswati Sen!  She's the same dancer who did the lovely Kathak dance in Shatranj Ke Khilari.  To top it all off, the actual dance itself is a beautiful and authentic Kathak number. Despite the horrible acting of Gandhi's character in the series, the dances are just right.

Video no longer available online

The Far Pavilions (1984, UK, TV Miniseries) - Kathak makes another appearance in this HBO miniseries (apparently HBO's first), but this time the dancer spends some time seated and performs a well-rounded mix of abhinaya and pure dance.  Despite the shots of the British officer's clearly-pleased "male gaze," I love the respect given to the dance form in the way the number is put together and the tone of the whole performance.  I would recommend browsing through this series as it's quite visually lavish with lots of scenes of Indian culture, though there is of course many white folk in awkward brownface (the Indian princess really takes the cake!) and a focus on "backwards" practices like sati and the like.
Starts 9:22

Later on in The Far Pavilions is a lavish Indian wedding scene which is followed by a brief Rajasthani folk dance that looks to my eye very similar to Kathak at 2:58 (and some folk dance at 3:40).  The presentation and quality of the first dance is noteworthy; the performer is clearly trained, and I love the appreciative reaction of her audience when she finishes.
Starts 43:45

The River (1951, France) - Given that many films about the British Raj take place in the northwest part of India (such as the Northwest Frontier, Khyber Pass, etc.), it is hard to find dance performances originating from South Indian dance traditions.  That's why the straight-from-Bharatanatyam-adavus performance in Jean Renoir's lushly-colored The River is so special even if the film is set in Bengal.  When I first saw this dance on YouTube long ago I thought it was yet another white girl playing Indian and attempting Indian dance; however, I recently learned that the dancer, Radha Burnier, was Rukmini Arundale's niece and the first graduate of Kalakshetra!  While the dance is quite good, especially for a nonIndian film, Radha's movements are a bit lanky with a lack of sharpness and completion (and the less said about  her facial expressions the better!) which surprised me given her dance background and my high expectations.  But it's always nice to see authentic dancers performing Indian dance in these films instead of some unskilled western person pretending to be Indian, and it's especially awesome to find a South Indian dance (the ONLY one I've seen so far).  And above all, this film is head and shoulders above its contemporaries in depicting Indian dance (and music) as it really was.


Queenie (1987, USA, TV drama) - I watched this two-part miniseries many years ago as a teen and was quite taken in by the half Indian character Queenie played by Mia Sara (whom I can never disassociate from Ferris Bueller's Day Off!).  I just learned recently that Queenie's character was based on the life of Merle Oberon, "Hollywood's First Indian Actress," who is said to have hid her Indian background and from pictures looks eerily similar to Manisha Koirala.  That aside, there is a scene where two Kathak dancers perform at a party but end up being interrupted by a drunk Queenie who thinks she can join in the fun; the dancers appear to be Indian and actually perform authentic movements making for an enjoyable viewing.


The Deceivers (1988, UK) - Despite the distracting presence of Pierce Brosnan, this Merchant Ivory film features a short sequence in which a young boy 'dances' some moves that are sort of inspired by Kathak and folk dance.  The dance is part of a larger, tense scene in which members of a secret society of murderers are exposed.  It's unfortunate the dance had to just be a sideshow to the violent scene and that the boy basically repeats the same movements with too many shots intercut.  I'm very suspicious that the dancer might be the same little boy in Sruthi Layalu and Swarna Kamalam!

Starts 55:42

A Gorgeous Kathak Dance in Khudito Pashan (1960, Bengali)

Wednesday, August 24, 2011
After watching Roshan Kumari's wonderfully crisp and technical Kathak dance in Satyajit Ray's Jalsaghar, I wondered if there were any other Kathak performances in black-and-white Indian films that could match it!  I've certainly come across lots of mujras, but I've been aching to find another performance aiming for more 'pure dance' style Kathak choreography.

While not quite matching the brilliance of Kumari's dance due to its lack of technical breadth and length, the dance in Tapan Sinha's 1960 film Khudito Pashan is so graceful and mesmerizing that it most certainly belongs in the upper echelons of filmi Kathak performances.  Khudito Pashan (aka Kshudhita Pashan) was a national award-winning film about a man who moves into an old haunted house and falls in love with a dancer he encounters (and who turns out to be a ghost with a past!).  The beautiful music in the dance scene was composed by Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, and the end of the dance, as all the performers fade away as if ghosts, is a nice effect in the film. 

Kinara (Hindi, 1977) is on YouTube! Hema Malini! Classical Dance!

Saturday, December 4, 2010
For the past few days I've been working on a post about my "Holy Grail" classical dance films that seem to be commercially unavailable or obscure and hard to find.  Unfortunately, I hit control + Z to cut and paste an image and it deleted everything in my post.  Then, Blogger's insane autosave feature kicked in and saved the blank post.  And yes folks, it is impossible to revert to a previous version of a saved draft blogger post.  I checked.  So note to all my blogging friends out there using Blogger: Always back up your work! Do not press Control + Z EVER!!! *Minai ends fuming rant of fury*

While I go back and recreate my post, I thought I would post the most exciting news that some kind soul has uploaded the entire film Kinara with English subtitles!  I almost fell off my couch when I found it because word on the street for the longest time has been that this film is simply not commercially available.  I had figured that the few dance clips YouTube user tripmonk0 graciously posted would be the only bits I would be able to see of this film, ever.  Imagine my surprise when a quick search for Kinara images pulled up a result of the whole film!

The uploader pulled it off of an old VHS tape, so unfortunately the quality is not the greatest, and the subtitles are sort of in and out at times but allow you to get the gist of what's happening.

Classical Dance Practice Scenes/Songs in Indian Films

Thursday, October 28, 2010
There is something charming and beautiful about classical dance practice numbers in Indian films. Perhaps it's the unassuming and flattering cotton sari wrapped around the dancer's body; I've always liked plain saris a bit more than the full, complicated costume. Or maybe it's the everyday, unadorned, simple nature of the dance that adds to its beauty. Or it could be that the dances often gets closer to their classical roots in this format. Whatever it is, I'm simply a huge fan of them in films.

Below is a list of all 34 practice numbers I can think of in Indian films where the purpose of the song or scene is not "performance" but rather informal "practice" overall. It's interesting how many of them are from the 80s and 90s, the seeming "golden era" of this type of classical performance in film. The videos below are listed in rough order of awesomeness, favorites first. If you can make it all the way to the end, consider yourself a classical dance nerd like me! (Or maybe it's just list-making nerd?) Enjoy!

My Favorite "Twin" Dances in Classic Indian Cinema

Sunday, October 3, 2010
I was first introduced to what I call "twin" dances when I saw the song "Aduvome" in Naam Iruvar some time back on the Dances on the Footpath blog. In the song, a young Kamala Lakshman is shown dancing twice in the same frame through some special effects magic.  The film released in 1947 (way before Hollywood's similar effect in The Parent Trap) and I'm intrigued by just how they did it!



As I've been watching more and more classic Indian films I've noticed the "twin" dance, a dance featuring two young women (or one superimposed twice) who perform the same dance movements, was a popular presentation style. In my opinion, the best "twin" dances are those based on South Indian classical dance forms because the crisp moves look stunning when seen in parallel.  I suppose I could call these dances "dancing duos" or something similar, but since they have the specific characteristic of each dancer following similar movements close to each other, I'll stick with "twin dances."

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