India: Bombay; 1995; directed by Mani Ratnam

It’s literally love at first sight when Shekhar and Shaila set eyes upon one another. The hitch is that he is a Hindu, while she is a Muslim. Regardless, the journalist relentlessly pursues the young woman until she declares her eternal devotion to him as well. However, both of their families are outraged when Shekhar reveals his intent to marry Shaila Bano, forcing the couple to elope to Bombay (now known again as Mumbai.) There, they stay with Hindu landlords and several children who disrupt their attempts at intimacy. Finally, though, Shaila becomes pregnant and gives birth to twins Kabir and Kamal. Much happens during the ensuing years: Shekhar’s father and Shaila’s parents swallow their pride and come to stay with their children and grandchildren, although they’re not through bickering with each other. Shekhar is promoted from news editor to reporter. And when the twin boys are almost burned alive in a riot, it’s just the beginning of the vicious war that is breaking out between Muslims and Hindus.

The family’s happy life is turned asunder by the extreme violence, initially ignited by the demolition of holy mosques. The mixed family is caught in the middle of all this conflict, with two young boys confused as to their own religious identities. Ultimately, the love and loyalty of all the members of this united family prove stronger than any inclination toward violence against one another. Tragically, just as they are beginning to respect each other, the in-laws perish in a fire at their apartment building, and Shaila and Shekhar again become separated from their children. As they all search desperately, they see and experience the full, terrible extent of the senseless ongoing violence, which costs the lives of far too many kids and other innocents. At last, Shekhar, who has been delving into these religious differences through his work, has had enough of watching all of these people, including many he knows, kill each other. Gaining the attention of everyone in the street around him, he forces them all to look at the pointless carnage and destruction they’re causing and understand that they are simply allowing themselves to act as pawns in a politically motivated conflict. As his family is reunited once more, everyone drops their weapons, lets go of their anger, and makes peace.

“Act I” of this musical extravangaza is a familiar romantic story of the “Romeo & Juliet” variety, told many times over the centuries in literature, theatre and song: the characters whose relationship is forbidden, the man and woman madly in love, but from opposing sides, whose families attempt to keep them apart. Shekhar and Shaila are archetypes of true ‘soul mates,’ two creatures who can't live without one another, and who also happen to be stuck with the mission of bringing two hateful groups together as one. “Act II” exemplifies another theme that is visited again and again in all forms: the uselessness and waste of war, the blindness of humans to their true brotherhood with all other humans, their allowance of any differences of faith or viewpoint to become insurmountable walls dividing “us” from “them” and thus leading to disrespect and harm towards the “others.” As is probably befitting a musical love story, “Bombay” has an uplifting and optimistic ending. It's also fairly standard for the first half of such a story to contain the brightest parts, while foreshadowing and starting to introduce future dangers and unraveling. The second act will typically have the darker overall tone, with hell eventually breaking loose in some form or other.

Being a big fan of musicals in general, I greatly enjoyed this film, which is the quintessential “masala” movie out of ‘Bollywood.’ (For instance, the second song, in which the main couple comes together at the old fort by the sea, is a prime example of picturisation.) And unlike the standard Broadway- or Hollywood-styled movie musical which may tend to jump rather rapidly from song to song, “Bombay” had more plot substance in between fewer song-and-dance sequences, making it seem more like a regular film which happened to contain some musical numbers inserted at strategic points to further the story and enhance its emotions.

Despite the occasional humorous feature (i.e., out-of-sync lip-synching or Michael Jackson-esque costumes on male dancers), “Bombay” was both lightheartedly entertaining and deadly serious. I find the type of singing and choreography (whether classical, contemporary, or blended), as well as the traditional costumes (worn more by the women) found in films such as this one to be quite beautiful. The two videos below are ones that I have long enjoyed not only for the comical “translations” (which are not to be taken seriously!), but also for the music videos themselves--two among the many things of which I was strongly reminded by the movie.





The only Indian (and possibly the only foreign-language) film that I currently own is a 2008 animated feature aptly called “Roadside Romeo,” a joint production of Walt Disney & Yash Raj Films that was created entirely in India and directed by Jugal Hansraj. I love this fun movie and would certainly recommend it to anyone else who enjoyed “Bombay,” because it is essentially a Bollywood musical that replaces human characters with anthropomorphic dogs. Like “Bombay,” the plot revolves around a male main character who falls instantly for his love interest, but must fight to be with her.



Romeo and Laila are basically the Shekhar and Shaila of this animated Indian adventure which pays homage to the 'Bollywood genre.'