Watching Bollywood in Rishi Valley

I don't know if any of you reading have had any experience in watching Bollywood movies, but it's quite a trip.

First, some fun facts. Bollywood is the largest film industry in the world. The name originates from the location where most of the filming takes place – Mumbai. The “B” comes from the old name Bombay. The -ollywood part comes from America. Most Bollywood films are in Hindi. Bollywood is not the only film industry in India. There is also Tollywood, in southern India, with the “T” deriving from the Dravidian languages spoken on screen, most notably Tamil (although Telugu is also thrown into the mix, along with Kannada and Mayalam from Karnataka and Kerala, respectively). Bollywood is huge and Indians love it. And I love it.

Another fun fact: another emerging film industry in the world is Nollywood of Nigeria. The movies are pretty hilarious, and not really in a good way. They are definitely worth a watch.

Bollywood movies are pretty awesome. A lot of them rival American films in drama and poignancy and acting. However, one ever-present characteristic is the fact that all the characters, along with hundreds upon hundreds of extras, will spontaneously burst into dance and song. It's kind of crazy. Think of watching American Beauty and then having everyone bust out into a pop song with NSYNC choreography. This stuff is nuts. However, it makes sense in the Indian context, and the viewers love it.

In my second or third week at Rishi Valley, a co-worker of mine, Kala, was kind enough to take me to the movies to watch Maghadeera, an action-packed Telugu film. Now, the film wasn't entirely philosophic, but it was a pretty hilarious action bit. Furthermore, it was pretty great, because I understood everything that happened even though the movie was entirely in Telugu. Good acting or the best acting? Exactly.

There were a few moments in the movie-going experience that were completely foreign to me. First, there was an actual velvet curtain in the theater. Haha. You got assigned seats. You could bring your own snacks. But, these are the little things. The big things included the fact that people openly cheered, whistled, and whooped all throughout the movie. (Awesome.) In addition, there was an intermission, when the movie was shut off. Crazy stuff. (This was appropriate, considering the average time of an Indian movie is more than three hours.) Also, the plot included lots of dancing. And singing. And badly (or greatly?) choreographed dance. It also included the characters all of a sudden appearing in the Swiss Alps and Zurich for one of their musical numbers. (My friends here have repeatedly told me that this is completely natural, because it's like they're in a “dream land”. When I tried to explain that Zurich isn't actually a dream land, but a real place with real people in it, they didn't get it. They're like, “But in the movie, it is like a dream. It is a fake place, like Candyland.” Um...okay. I guess. I still don't get it.)

In moments like the ones I experienced in the movie theater, you always wish you had a friend around. A friend from your context, with your schemas and expectations, whom you could look at and burst out laughing without having to say anything. The movie experience was awesome for bonding with Kala, but it also highlighted how foreign I am here, how there are some things that I will likely never understand.

Last weekend, I watched my second Indian movie, this time a Bollywood film with Amir Khan. (He's like the Brad Pitt of India or something like that, although I'm convinced he looks like what I'd imagine Jude Law's and Eminem's love child to look like, if one ever came to existence. He's hot, though. And does great/thoughful movies.) This time, I was at Rishi Valley, and the film, the name of which escapes me at this moment, was played for our senior school students.

The film contained a great lesson about friendship and the complexities of love. The actors were talented and showed a range of emotion. However, the movie also did not lack those whimsical pop songs and choreographed dances (Switzerland was replaced with scenes from Goa and Australia, this time), as well as the overly cheesy B rolls. Awesome stuff.

Yet, there was no intermission. And, at Rishi Valley, our students did not cheer, whoop, and holler. They laughed. Loudly. With me. They made fun of the overly cheesy portrayals of “love”. And they rolled on the floor during ALL of the singing/dancing scenes.

And you know what?

I felt right at home.