DABANGG

Jenna, Summer, and I had a thorough cultural immersion this evening. We went and saw Dabangg, the biggest Bollywood hit at the moment. In fact, Dabangg's opening weekend grossed the single highest amount in Bollywood history. Something like 490 million rupees in three days. The movie's release coincided with the Muslim holiday of Id last weekend, kind of like big blockbusters in America come out on July 4th or Christmas.

Of course, the movie is entirely in Hindi so we did not understand a single word--except the occasional Americanized phrase like "better luck next time". Still, grandiose fight scenes and melodramatic acting are universal. Bollywood movies--for those who have never been lucky enough to experience one--are like a cross between a telenovela, a music video, and a Jerry Bruckheimer film. The notoriously inexplicable choreographed dance numbers pop up about every 15 minutes and seem to be the most popular parts of the film. The crowd at our screening was small--maybe 30 patrons in a theater that fit a couple hundred--yet their excitement grew noticeably during the musical numbers.

Dabangg had relentless violence and has actually gained some controversy in India for being too graphic and sexually explicit. (Though really, the most X-rated it gets is a girl walking through a spritzing water fountain in a tight-fitting sari. This strategy is an actual technique in Bollywood film-making: the "wet sari scene". Look it up.) Dabangg's central character is Chulbul Pandey, a corrupt cop with a talent for bringing a party wherever he goes. After his mother dies, he goes on a rampage to get revenge on her killers. At the same time, he falls in love, makes nice with his estranged step-father, and helps his hapless brother escape a violent street gang. Of course, I had to look all that up after the movie. Yet, I think we got the basic gist as it was happening. There is little to interpret about exploding bombs and gyrating belly dancers. To get a good idea of the movie, watch this trailer.

More interesting was the actual movie-going experience in India. The cinema was a six-theater multiplex at the South City Mall, which is a couple of miles south of our guest house. The mall's looming glass face looks out on Prince Arwan Shah drive. When you walk in through the metal detectors, you find yourself in a cavernous, four-story space that can only be described as: American. Immaculate tile floors, shiny metal balustrades and whirring escalators leading up to the next level. The droning din of all malls the world over. The smell of a food court wafting over every thing. Stores and stores and stores--all enclosed in glass, all well-lit and vibrant. I do not mean to sound reverent, but it was kind of a shock.

We did a little browsing. We walked through the food court, which had the usual suspects--KFC, Subway, Pizza Hut, a Mexican restaurant, a Chinese restaurant--along with a few Indian twists--a kebab stand, a Bengali place, a Punjabi stall. We browsed through Starmark Books, a Barnes and Noble knock-off. Jenna peaked in at a clothing store. Then we went to the actual movie. Two tickets, two drinks and a good-sized popcorn cost the equivalent of $12.

We had assigned seats, which was comical considering everyone was placed in the top four rows. Yet, nobody moved once the lights went down. Everyone stayed dutifully in their spot. The India national anthem came on before the movie and we all stood as it played. At the exact midpoint of the movie (though an intense fight sequence was going on), the movie stopped and the lights went up for intermission. A yowling cadre of vendors came up the aisles plying hot dogs, nachos, coffee, tea, candy, and more popcorn. After ten minutes, the movie resumed right where it had stopped.

After the movie, we said goodbye to Summer who lived in another part of town and took a short auto-rickshaw ride back to our guest house. The first thing we did when we walked in the door was download the movie's title song--which comprised an impressive dance number at the beginning of the film. Don't laugh. Listen to it and try not to hum along. You'll have Udd Udd Dabangg stuck in your head the rest of the day.