Having It Both Ways: Bollywood Contradictions

"The culture industry endlessly cheats its consumers out of what it endlessly promises."

—Adorno & Horkheimer, The Dialectic of Enlightenment

In one view, commercial movies are part of a vast culture industry intended to shape popular consciousness so that it conforms to the needs of modern capitalism. And clearly, this is true: to take an obvious example, what is product placement but an advertisement not only for a particular brand, but for consumerism as a whole? The culture industry derives profit from, in Adorno and Horkheimer's words, the "producing, controlling, disciplining" of our desires.

From another perspective, popular movies reflect the longings, aspirations and anxieties of their audiences. And clearly, this is also true: if they didn't, they wouldn't be popular. Of course, if those longings, aspirations and anxieties are created by the culture industry in the first place, the feedback loop is neatly closed. Perhaps too neatly: the culture industry is not so monolithic or univocal as it is portrayed by Adorno and Horkheimer, and popular desires, while clearly manipulable, do not always perfectly coincide with the interests of the ruling class.

Perhaps this is a reason why movies often seem to embody mixed messages. They can uphold tradition while insisting on the inevitability of change; they can extoll the virtues of simplicity while acting as advertisements for upscale consumer goods. Like most of us, perhaps, Bollywood movies often want to have it both ways.

What follows are brief discussions of two Bollywood movies (of of dozens that could be possible illustrations) that simultaneously represent markedly ambivalent points of view about moral codes, ethical dilemmas, social anxieties, and personal choices.

The obedient rebel: DDLJ

Of course, the obedient rebel of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (The Brave Heart Will Take the Bride, 1995) is its hero Raj, played by Shah Rukh Khan. Raj is a thoroughly Westernized NRI: he wears black leather jackets, drives fast cars, and drinks beer. In a famous scene early in the film he cons a six-pack out of London cornershop owner Baldev (Amrish Puri); according to Anupama Chopra's Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (British Film Institute, 2002), in an early draft of director Aditya Chopra's script Raj was instead seeking condoms.

Raj seems to represent everything that the traditionalist Baldev despises and fears. To protect his daughter Simran (Kajol) from the baleful influence of boys like Raj and the society which produces them, Baldev has arranged her marriage back in his village in India with a man she has never met. But the summer before her marriage Simran is allowed to take a monthlong Eurail holiday. On that trip she meets Raj, and they fall in love. Raj follows Simran back to India and arrives at her father's village in the middle of the wedding preparations. Both Simran and, ultimately, her mother Lajjo (Farida Jalal) urge Raj to elope with her. But the Westernized rebel Raj instead wants to dutifully seek Baldev's approval: "I'll take you from here," he tells Simran, "only when your father gives me your hand in marriage."

It is Raj's insistence on fulfilling the forms of patriarchal tradition that drives many DDLJ viewers up the wall, and some reject the movie for its apparent endorsement of those patriarchal values. In a recent Masala Zindabad podcast, Beth memorably calls DDLJ a "patriarchal ball of crap."

But I think DDLJ is more complicated than that. While Raj disdains certain forms of authority—early in the movie we see him flunking out of college—he asserts the legitimacy of others, such as filial respect and love. Raj is shown to have a very close relationship with his own father, Dharam Veer (Anupam Kher), who convinces Raj to follow Simran to India. Family is important to Raj, and eloping with Simran would cut her off from her family forever. As he says to Simran, "How can you run from your own people?"

This isn't the only time Raj puts Simran's interests (or, at least, what he sees as her interests) ahead of his own. During their summer holiday he has the opportunity to have sex with a very drunk and apparently willing Simran, but he refuses to take advantage of her inebriated state. The next morning Raj makes teasing suggestions about what happened the night before, but when Simran becomes hysterical (she doesn't remember what happened, or didn't), he suddenly becomes serious: "I know what you think of me. You think I'm a wastrel. But I'm not scum, Simran. I'm a Hindustani, and I know what honour means to a Hindustani woman. Not even in my dreams can I imagine doing that to you." Again the Westernized rebel embraces Indian values.

Raj embodies ambiguity in other ways. As Anupama Chopra points out, Raj disregards the traditional divide between men's and women's roles. He is seen sitting in the kitchen with the women of Baldev's household, serving food to the wedding guests, and even observing Karva Chauth (a fast that married women undertake ostensibly to insure their husbands a long life, and more directly as a sign of their love and devotion). In one of DDLJ's many famous songs, "Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna" ("Put on your henna"), Raj dances over a bridge separating the women and men of the wedding party, and, grabbing a veil from one of the women, dances among them as though he were one of them:

I also love how, when Raj sings "Keep your eyes downcast," Simran looks straight into his eyes.

So DDLJ and its hero Raj both subvert and uphold patriarchal codes of honor and woman-as-male-property. Despite the manifest injustice of a father insisting that his daughter marry a man she doesn't know, or love, or feel the slightest affinity with, Raj tells Simran, "Our parents have raised us with love and can decide for us better than we can." And in the end, Baldev finally gives his consent and the lovers—symbols of West and East, the modern and the traditional—are united. They, and we, have it both ways.

The anti-abortion feminist: Kya Kehna

Like DDLJ, Kya Kehna (What Is There To Say?, 2000) can be seen as both endorsing and subverting patriarchal authority. Priya (Preity Zinta) gets pregnant by the self-involved and unreliable Rahul (Saif Ali Khan). Her father and mother (Anupam Kher and Farida Jalal) go to Rahul and beg for him to marry Priya to restore the family honor.

Marriage to the womanizing narcissist Rahul might restore the family honor, but it would clearly result in misery for Priya. This is one of several occasions in the film (written by a woman, Honey Irani) where conformity to conventional morality, enforced by the father's authority, is ostensibly upheld but emotionally undercut. Marriage to Rahul is the last thing we want for Priya.

Rahul has no intention of marrying, of course, and he and his awful mother (Naveet Nishan) suggest instead that Priya have an abortion. But Priya wants to keep the baby, despite the profound personal cost. So the film can be seen in a way as anti-abortion, since abortion is advocated by characters who either forfeit or never possess our sympathies. On the other hand, it's clearly Priya's choice to keep the baby, and so the film can also be seen as powerfully advocating a woman's right to choose.

Priya and her family are ostracized, as becomes painfully obvious when her elder brother marries and no one shows up to the wedding celebrations. (What at first seems like some gratuitous slapstick at the beginning of the movie—Priya gets drenched from head to toe in mud when trying to hitchhike home from college—turns out to carry symbolic resonance when she becomes "unclean" in the eyes of the community.) Facing the loss of his family's standing, Priya's father disowns her, symbolically shattering the chair she sits in at family meals and barring her from the house. He's clearly in the wrong, although our responses of shock and dismay are complicated by the fact that the father is played by the immensely sympathetic Anupam Kher. Once again we are encouraged to take a highly critical stance towards his enforcing of conventional morality. While no one directly challenges his authority, ultimately he is convinced by the rest of the family to go after Priya and ask for her forgiveness. Patriarchal authority is restored, but only with the active consent and support of those who are supposedly governed by it. The family (along with Priya's loyal friend Ajay (Chandrachur Singh)) then vows to defy the community together (song ends at 1:57:03).

Towards the end of the movie, Priya faces that community and make a very difficult speech in the face of strong disapproval. She defends her out-of-wedlock pregnancy by invoking, not her right to love whom she chooses, not her sexual autonomy, but the sacred vocation of motherhood—the one value that can never be questioned in a Bollywood film. She thus defends her radically unconventional choices by embracing the most hallowed convention of all: the role of Ma.

Priya's courageous stand leads ultimately to not one, but two proposals of marriage. Thus her potentially radical challenge to patriarchal authority and social conformity is ended by her reintegration into the structures of marriage and family. But we haven't quite returned to our starting place; as in DDLJ, patriarchal authority and institutions are restored only because they are fundamentally changed.

The contradictions of these films are part of their fascination and richness. As Anupama Chopra writes of DDLJ, "It offers, to both men and women, to everyone who faces the terrifying uncertainties of new freedoms and the unpredictable future, a vision of the present which combines the both stability of the old order and the enticing choices of the new."

A Bollywood Persuasion

In Old is Gold's Let's Make Pride and Prejudice in Hindi!, Bollyviewer picks heroes and heroines from the 1950s and the 1960s to play Darcy, Elizabeth, Bingley, Jane, Lydia, and the other major characters in P & P. Inspired by her delightful post, I thought I would make an attempt to cast a contemporary Bollywood version of my favorite Jane Austen novel, Persuasion.

Austen's novels have been adapted on film many times, but they would seem to be especially natural material for Bollywood. The novels, like many Bollywood movies, turn on uniting the right couple in marriage at the end. The heroine must overcome the obstacles of class differences, interfering friends and parental figures, romantic rivalries real and imagined, and her own or her hero's misunderstandings.

It's perfect romantic comedy/drama material, and so I'm only surprised that there haven't been more Bollywood versions of Austen's books. Recently, Bride and Prejudice (2004) featured Aishwarya Rai as a vivacious Elizabeth Bennet and Anupam Kher as a sympathetic Mr. Bennet, but was fatally handicapped by New Zealand actor Martin Henderson's lackluster Darcy and writer/director Gurinder Chadha's mediocre script.

Aishwarya also played Sense and Sensibility's headstrong Marianne Dashwood/Meenu in the excellent Tamil film Kandukondain Kandukondain (I Have Found It, 2000), with Tabu as her wise older sister Elinor/Sowmya. The movie's flaws are minor: it doesn't make as much of Aishwarya's superb dancing skills as it might have, and (as is the case with many Sense and Sensibility adaptations) it's not clear that Meenu and the much older Colonel Brandon character (Mammootty as the wounded Major Bala) are really meant for each other.

The flaw that no Austen adaptation can overcome, though, is having an unsympathetic heroine, and that's precisely the problem with Sonam Kapoor's title character in the 2010 film Aisha (based on Austen's Emma). Not only is Aisha a shallow and thoughtless character, she's played by an actress of limited emotional range and no dancing skills. Abhay Deol's Arjun/Mr. Knightley is the one bright spot in an adaptation that left me utterly indifferent as to whether any of the three main couples got together by the end of the film.

So Bollywood's mixed track record with Austen would not seem augur well for an adaptation of one of her most complex and emotionally compelling novels. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot has passed the first bloom of youth, and now must face regret and fading hope. Eight years before the opening of the novel Anne fell in love with the handsome but penniless naval officer Frederick Wentworth, and he with her. But under pressure from her family and from her well-meaning friend Lady Russell, Anne broke off their engagement.

Now in her late twenties, Anne suddenly encounters Wentworth again. The spoils of the Napoleonic wars have made him a man of means, and he has returned to the area with the express purpose of getting married. Understandably, Wentworth attracts the attention of all the local young women, and in particular the pretty and flirtatious Musgrove sisters Henrietta and Louisa. Meanwhile, Anne herself begins to receive the attentions of her charming but unscrupulous cousin William—but does he have ulterior motives?

Persuasion was made into a superb BBC film in 1995, with the perfectly cast but unheralded Amanda Root as Anne Elliot and Ciarán Hinds as Frederick Wentworth. I wrote about this wonderful film in my post The Complete Jane Austen: Unpersuasive. I'd love to see a well-done Bollywood version, and what follows are my choices for the cast:

Anne Elliot: One of Austen's wisest, most thoughtful, and most sensitive heroines, by Regency standards she is, at 27, approaching spinsterhood. The role requires an actress of a certain maturity, not to mention depth, emotional conviction, and beauty not dependent on obvious surgical intervention. Fortunately there are a number of actresses who would make splendid Annes:

Vidya Balan: She first came to my notice as the wronged Lalita in Parineeta (2005) (for which she won the Filmfare Best Debut award) and as Sanjay Dutt's charming love interest in Lage Raho Munnabhai (2006). In Paa (2009) she played a woman who, like Anne, unexpectedly meets up with a man she had loved years before. As I wrote of her role in No One Killed Jessica (2011), she "convincingly portrays a woman slowly emerging from emotional shell-shock and beginning to acknowledge the possibility of hope." I think she'd make a wonderful Anne, and by a narrow margin she'd be my first choice.

Vidya Balan in No One Killed Jessica (2011)

Konkona Sen Sharma: Konkona made her name in films like Page 3 (2005), Aaja Nachle (Come Dance With Me, 2007), Life in a...Metro (2007), Luck By Chance (2009) and Wake Up Sid (2009) playing young women who are slowly discovering what they want from life. Anne, who has had to go through the same painful process, would seem to be a perfect next step.

Konkona Sen Sharma in Omkara (2006)

Rani Mukherji: In whatever role she plays Rani can't help but be sympathetic, and she has already played at least two Anne-like characters. In Hum Tum (2004), Rani played Rhea, a woman who after the passage of time comes to realize the true depth of her feelings for Saif Ali Khan's Karan. In Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006), she played a woman who reunites with her lover (Shah Rukh Khan) after a long separation.

Rani Mukherji in Kabhi Alivda Naa Kehna (Never Say Goodbye, 2005)

Kajol: The perfect Anne for my first-choice Wentworth (see below).

Kajol in We Are Family (2010)

Captain Frederick Wentworth: In my view, Wentworth is five to ten years older than Anne.* Wentworth is ruggedly masculine—he's a war-hardened veteran, after all—but at the same time sensitive and reticent. Representing all sides of this complex character is a tall order. I think three of the four superstar Khans could carry it off:

Shah Rukh Khan: "Reticent" is not a word that come immediately to mind when thinking of SRK, but in Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow May Never Come, 2003), Chak De! India (Come On! India, 2007), and Rab Ne Bana De Jodi (A Match Made In Heaven, 2009) he showed that he can play characters with a lot going on beneath the surface (whether that surface is antic (KHNH) or reserved (CDI, RNBDJ)). Now that his boyish good looks have become a bit weathered he'd be the perfect choice for Wentworth.

Saif Ali Khan: Saif's eyes can be remarkably eloquent, and in roles such as Rohit (Kal Ho Naa Ho), Rajveer (Ta Ra Rum Pum (2007)) and Ranbeer (Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic (A Little Love, A Little Magic, 2008)) they suggest a deep inner pain. If SRK isn't available, Saif would be my second choice.

Aamir Khan: Speaking of boyish good looks, Aamir's might make it a bit of a stretch to imagine him as a battle-tested veteran. But as he showed in Fanaa (Destroyed By Love, 2006), he can play a character with hidden depths.

Lady Russell: I'm not sure that Austen specifies how old Lady Russell is; my guess is that she is still relatively youthful, despite her role as a surrogate mother to the motherless Anne. Lady Russell is calm, wise, and independent, but made a fateful lapse in judgement eight years ago which both Anne and Wentworth find it difficult to forgive. The actresses I'd like to see in the role:

Juhi Chawla: Juhi has just the right sympathetic nature for Lady Russell.

Nandita Das: Talented, smart, progressive, and gorgeous, she was brilliant in Deepa Mehta's Fire (1996) and 1947: Earth (1997). Come to think of it, Nandita should direct the film as well as portray Lady R.

Tabu: A thoughtful actress who was excellent in Kandukondain Kandukondain and such later films as The Namesake (2007).

Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove: The young, pretty, and high-spirited sisters-in-law of Mary Musgrove, Anne's younger sister. The names that immediately suggest themselves are Deepika Padukone and Anushka Sharma, but I'm open to other suggestions.

Admiral and Mrs. Croft: Admiral Croft is a large-hearted old salt, who has been accompanied on all his adventures by his loving and loyal wife Sophie (who is Wentworth's older sister). The Admiral has to be played by Anupam Kher, Alok Nath or Rishi Kapoor, which suggests that Mrs. Croft should be played by Kirron Kher, Seema Biswas or Dimple Kapadia.

Your alternative casts are welcome.

--

* I was a bit off here; he's only four years older. Austen mentions that he was 23 when he proposed to the 19-year-old Anne.

Vivah and Aaja Nachle

Adam Gopnik has an article in the current New Yorker on the writer G. K. Chesterton. In it he quotes a chapter in Chesterton's autobiography titled "The Man With The Golden Key," in which Chesterton describes how as a child he played with figures (including a prince who carried a golden key) in a puppet theater:

"If this were a ruthless realistic modern story, I should of course give a most heartrending account of how my spirit was broken with disappointment, on discovering that the prince was only a painted figure. But this is not a ruthless realistic modern story. On the contrary, it is a true story. And the truth is that I do not remember that I was in any way deceived or in any way undeceived. The whole point is that I did like the toy theatre even when I knew it was a toy theatre. I did like the cardboard figures, even when I found they were of cardboard. The white light of wonder that shone on the whole business was not any sort of trick..."

Fantasy and reality are not opposed to or exclusive of one another, but can coexist simultaneously. And surely this is the way that our imaginations are engaged by books, opera, and movies, among other things. In the spirit of being neither deceived nor undeceived, then, my appreciation of two recent Bollywood films that involve no more reality than Chesterton's toy theater, but nonetheless offer a high degree of enjoyment:

Porn for parents: Vivah (2006)

There's a book called Porn for Women (Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative, 2007) which consists of pictures of hunky guys vacuuming, doing the dishes, and offering thick slices of chocolate cake for dessert, with captions like "I don't like to see you looking too thin."

Well, Vivah (Marriage) is pornography for parents. Director Sooraj Barjatya (of Hum Aapke Hain Kaun...! (1994) fame) has created a world where children are obedient, kind, sweet-tempered, solicitous of their parents and siblings, and unfailingly courteous. If they're beautiful young women, they're modest and demure; if they're charming young men, they're shy and reject all vices. Loving parents arrange marriages for their children that lead to deeply affectionate unions and emotionally close extended families where class and caste differences don't matter.

This is not to say that none of this is ever true. For all of it to be true simultaneously, though, we have to be in Barjatyaland.

Vivah is the story of an arranged union between Poonam (Amrita Rao), a small town, middle-class family's gorgeous niece raised as their own daughter, and Prem (Shahid Kapoor), the handsome second son of a fabulously wealthy Dehli industrialist. Amrita and Shahid are very appealing as the young lovers, even if Shahid has a hard time being convincing in those rare moments when he's called on to look sultry. The supporting cast--including Alok Nath and Anupam Kher as Poonam's and Prem's respective fathers and Lata Sabharwal as Prem's sister-in-law--inhabit their roles with a charming ease. And not least, Ravindra Jain's soundtrack has the great Udit Narayan and the brilliantly talented Shreya Ghoshal all over it.

It's the kind of movie where, when discussing their past love affairs, Poonam's had none, and Prem mentions that he once had a crush on a girl sitting in front of him in one of his college classes. Then he discovered that she already had two boyfriends, and lost interest. Almost every character is unrelentingly good, and except for the last few minutes the story is almost entirely lacking in drama. Instead, we're treated to the beautifully photographed three-hour long spectacle of the "journey from engagement to marriage" of two really nice young people from really nice families.

I loved it.

Madhuri Dixit's return: Aaja Nachle (2007)

Aaja Nachle (Come Dance With Me) is a classic "Hey kids, let's put on a show!" musical. Its main feature of interest is that it's the vehicle for the return of Madhuri Dixit to Bollywood after an absence of 5 years (it's her first film since Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Devdas (2002)).

Although she looks great in Aaja Nachle, it's clear in some sequences at least that Madhuri is no longer in top dancing form. Very often she will remain more or less stationary in the center of groups of dancers who swirl around her. It's impossible to escape the feeling that this is intended by director Anil Mehta and choreographer Vaibhavi Merchant to disguise her relative lack of mobility. Still, she remains very expressive as both an actor and dancer, and is always a pleasure to watch.

She plays Dia, a woman who left her village to avoid an arranged marriage, and ran off with her lover to New York to realize her dreams as a dancer. A decade later, divorced and with a young daughter, she returns to the village at the request of her dying teacher. The Ajanta amphitheater will be demolished and replaced by a shopping mall unless she can rally the townspeople to save it. So she recruits a motley assortment of townfolk to perform the ancient love story of Laila and Majnu.

Will Dia be able to whip her fractious cast into a smooth ensemble by opening night? Will sophisticated lighting effects, elaborate sets and costumes, and dozens of backup dancers materialize from nowhere? Will the actors playing Laila and Majnu stop arguing constantly and fall in love offstage as well as on-? Will the evil politicians and businessmen who have forgotten art and their heritage in pursuit of money see the error of their ways? Will dissatisfied wives and husbands, astonished at seeing their partners' onstage transformations, suddenly come to appreciate them? Will the theater be saved...?

If you're unsure about how the movie turns out, you haven't watched 42nd Street (1933) or Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933) or Babes in Arms (1939) or Singin' in the Rain (1952) or The Band Wagon (1953) or...I'm sure you catch my drift. But the film is enlivened by Akshaye Khanna's delightful performance as a pro-development politician (he actually says to Dia, "I'm the bad guy"), a terrific ensemble cast, and of course, by Madhuri Dixit's lovely smile--missing from the screen for too long.

Aaja Nachle is not a great work of art. It's clichéd, suspenseless, totally unreal and utterly predictable.

I loved it.

Update 10 July 2011: After rewatching Vivah, I've posted additional thoughts about it in Bollywood Rewatch 2: Vivah and India's missing daughters.

The "Arrgh!" factor: Chandni

Bollyviewer commented on my post on Silsila and Lamhe that every Yash Chopra film has a fatal flaw. After seeing Chandni (Moonlight, 1989), I'm beginning to agree.

Chandni is played by Sridevi, and if she was irresistible in Lamhe (1991) she's even more so here. The movie could have been titled The Many Moods of Sridevi--it's basically a love poem to the actress. The camera captures her impish, playful, tender, grave, sorrowful, and loving glances in close-ups that are simply overwhelming--and this is when they're viewed on a television screen. We see her dancing in both traditional and modern costume, and (this being a Yash Chopra film) in settings as different as the Swiss mountains and the pouring monsoon rains.

Of course, the excuse for this obsession with Sridevi is ostensibly the obsession of Chandni's fiancé, Rohit (Rishi Kapoor), who has plastered the walls of his room with her photographs. Rohit is a giggling, pudgy, childlike guy with the most execrable taste in sweaters imaginable. In every scene he seems to be wearing some new knitted horror (and in the quick-change dance numbers he's shown wearing four or five of them in rapid succession). I'm sorry that I don't have some screencaps, but the image above from the Eros films site gives you some idea. Rishi's sweaters would justify a scathing post all to themselves on Ugly, Ugly, Bollywood Fugly.

Warning--spoilers follow.

Those sweaters should have been a clue: Rohit's judgment is appallingly bad. His idea of a surprise for Chandni is to shower her with rose petals from a hired helicopter. Unfortunately, as the helicopter is landing Rohit manages to fall out, and is left partially paralyzed and wheelchair-bound. Bitter at his fate and supposedly loving Chandni so much he can't bear to see her saddled for a lifetime with an invalid like him, he angrily drives her away.

Chandni flees Rohit and his hateful family (who have always despised her) and goes to Bombay to look for a job. Late for an interview, she flags down a car at random. Of course, the driver is Lalit (Vinod Khanna), the boss of the firm she's applying to. Khanna is very handsome, with a worldliness (and a hint of world-weariness) that suggests Bryan Ferry at his most suavely seductive. When Lalit lounges casually at a bar with cigarette in hand, you practically expect him to start crooning some melancholy Jacques Brel number. Vinod's on the left, Bryan's on the right:

Lalit is perceptive, attentive and kind; best of all, he's an adult. He's experienced the pain of loss (in a flashback we see his lover Devika (Juhi Chawla, looking very Sridevi-esque) die suddenly--really suddenly, since we'd had no clue she was ill--in his arms), and it hasn't turned him into a petulant, self-pitying mess. He gradually allows himself to fall in love with Chandni, and his mother (Waheeda Rehman) couldn't approve more.

On a business trip to Switzerland, Lalit encounters who else but Rohit, who at the urging of his brother-in-law Ramesh (Anupam Kher) has finally agreed to try rehabilitation at a Swiss clinic. And after a mere four months (the miracles of Swiss medicine!) he's been completely cured of his paralysis. Lalit and Rohit form an instant friendship (shades of the "two friends unknowingly in love with the same woman" plot of An American in Paris (1951), here).

Rohit decides to surprise Chandni again: he shows up at her door in Bombay in his wheelchair, and then stands up and does a few awkward dance steps (incidentally, seeing Rishi Kapoor trying to keep up with the sinuously graceful Sridevi in the dance numbers is painful). By now you'd think Rohit would have figured out that surprises aren't such a good idea. He declares that he's ready to take Chandni back--only, she breaks the news to him that she's found someone else. (After breaking off their engagement and cutting off all contact for months, what did he think?) When Lalit invites his new friend to meet his fiancée, Rohit realizes that Lalit's the new man in her life.

But instead of doing the honorable thing and leaving town, he agrees to come to Lalit and Chandni's wedding. Having done so, for the sake of his love and his friendship does he stoically swallow his pain? Of course not--he swallows half a bottle of whiskey instead, and is rendered so sloppily insensible that at the wedding he plummets down a huge staircase. Chandni rushes to his unconscious side, crying "Rohit, my Rohit!" (Her Rohit, it turns out, is uninjured.)

Now it's Lalit's turn to be crushed by sudden unwelcome knowledge. But does he go on a self-pitying binge? Does he speak bitter, angry words to his fiancée and friend? And does Chandni come to her senses and realize that Lalit is much better friend, lover and husband material than Rohit has ever been or could be?

No, no...and no. Chandni leaves on her honeymoon, all right--with Lalit's blessing, but with the wrong guy. As we see Chandni standing up in a convertible speeding through the Swiss countryside with Rohit at the wheel (wait--haven't they learned by now that seatbelts are necessary things?), and as the words "Love...never...ends..." are slowly written across the screen, my involuntary response is an inarticulate, strangulated, agonized "Arrgh!"

Update 12 November 2012: Yash Chopra passed away on October 21, 2012 after a sudden illness. In memory of this legendary figure, I've written a post on Six favorite songs from Yash Chopra films.

Update 25 February 2018: This morning I awoke to the news that Sridevi had passed away late the previous night. I've written a brief appreciation, with links to several posts about her films.

Update 2 May 2020: On April 30 the death of Rishi Kapoor was announced by his family; our thoughts are with them at this sad time.

Update 4 July 2020: Choreographer Saroj Khan, who created the dances in this film (including "Mere Haathon Mein") and Lamhe, passed away yesterday. Please see "In Memoriam: Saroj Khan" for an appreciation of her life and work.

Bollywood Rewatch 3: Kandukondain Kandukondain

Be still, my beating heart:
Tabu (Sowmya) and Aishwarya (Meenu) in Kandukondain Kandukondain

I'm not sure why there haven't been more cinematic adaptations of Jane Austen novels in India, unless perhaps it's because Austen has a leading place in the literary canon of the British oppressor. Her books would seem to lend themselves perfectly to filmi treatment. They concern the plight of women in a male-oriented society and the economic, social and emotional barriers to the love of the heroine and the hero. In every Jane Austen novel the key question is whether the correct couple(s) will be united at the end. And even though we know the answer to that question in advance (except, perhaps, in Persuasion), the pleasure of the resolution is undiminished.

I'm aware of only three film adaptations of Austen with Indian settings (so please let me know if I've overlooked any). In reverse chronological order, they are:  

Aisha (2010, based on Emma), written by Devika Bhagat and Manu Rishi Chaddha and directed by Rajshree Ojha: In my post "Who cares if Tanu weds Manu?: The new Bollywood romantic comedy," I wrote that as Aisha/Emma, Sonam Kapoor "is pretty enough, but blank: her performance suggests that Aisha really is as shallow as she seems."  

Bride & Prejudice (2004, based of course on Pride & Prejudice), written by Paul Mayeda Berges and Gurinder Chadha and directed by Chadha: Yes, Chadha is of Anglo-Indian ancestry, and this film is primarily in English. It's included here because it is set in India, and because it features Indian actors such as Aishwarya Rai, Anupam Kher and Sonali Kulkarni. But, as I wrote in "A Bollywood Persuasion," it is "fatally handicapped by New Zealand actor Martin Henderson's lackluster Darcy and...Chadha's mediocre script."

Perhaps the first time was the charm. The excellent Tamil film Kandukondain Kandukondain (I Have Found It, 2000, based on Sense & Sensibility), written and directed by Rajiv Menon, manages to be surprisingly faithful to its source while believably updating the story to the present. If anything, I found Menon's film to be even better on our recent rewatch than I remembered. (And yes, I know it's a Kollywood, and not Bollywood, product, but I don't yet have a "Kollywood Rewatch" series.)

Aishwarya plays the headstrong, romantic Meenakshi/Marianne, with Tabu as her older and wiser sister Sowmya/Elinor. When Meenakshi (Meenu) meets her future husband, she wants lightning, thunder,

Sowmya doesn't have such fanciful expectations; in fact, as the eldest daughter of a wealthy family, she is facing an arranged marriage:

But as it turns out, both sisters fall in love. Meenu is swept away by poetry-quoting investment banker Srikanth (Abbas), whom indeed she meets during a raging storm. Sowmya, mistakenly thinking that he is the groom that has been arranged for her, finds herself being charmed almost against her will by aspiring film director Manohar (Ajith Kumar). Complicating matters for Meenu is Major Bala (Mammootty), who makes no secret of his admiration for her, but who is twice her age and is a physically and emotionally wounded veteran. Complicating matters for Sowmya is that Manohar has a prior commitment—to his career: he wants to direct his first film before he contemplates marriage. Any resemblance of Srikanth to the untrustworthy Willoughby, Manohar to the unsettled Edward Ferrars or Major Bala to the unrequited Colonel Brandon is entirely intentional.

As does Marianne in Austen's novel, Meenu loves music and dancing; at a party she teases Sowmya about her feelings for Manohar in "Kannamoochi Yennada":

The wonderful soundtrack was composed by AR Rahman, with lyrics by Vairamuthu; K. S. Chithra is Aishwarya's playback singer.

The sisters' lives are suddenly upended when a relative inherits their family home and they are forced to leave. Together with their mother, their youngest sister, and a loyal servant, the now-penniless sisters move to Madras/Chennai, where Sowmya struggles to take on the role of breadwinner. And now both sisters face the loss, not only of their social standing, but of their romantic hopes...

If you haven't yet seen Kandukondain Kandukondain or read Sense & Sensibility, I urge you to do so without delay. You can watch the full movie on YouTube, with English subtitles, thanks to Rajshri films. (Unfortunately, on YouTube you don't get the full richness of the colors or the sharpness of the images of Ravi K. Chandran's lovely cinematography, as you do on the Kino International DVD.) Sense & Sensibility is a free download from Project Gutenberg and Open Library.

Opposites Attract
There is one issue that I want to talk about with Kandukondain Kandukondain, and it's impossible to do so without revealing the ending. So be forewarned if you haven't read Austen's novel or seen the movie: spoilers follow.

As sympathetic, as honorable, as steadfast, and as sincere as we and Meenu/Marianne find Major Bala/Colonel Brandon, the question of whether she will be completely happy or fulfilled in their marriage remains naggingly open at the end of the film. In the novel Marianne is 17 and Colonel Brandon is "on the wrong side of five and thirty"; she considers him "an absolute old bachelor" (Ch. 7). In the film, Meenu seems to be in her late teens or early twenties (Aish was in her mid-20s, but looks and plays younger), and Major Bala is clearly well over 40 (Mammootty was in his late 40s at the time of filming).

Excellent advice from Major Bala (Mammootty)

But more significant than the difference in their ages is the difference in their sensibilities. Major Bala is blunt, no-nonsense, practical, and (literally) down-to-earth, although his choice of profession may hint at a emotional side he otherwise doesn't reveal: he's become a commercial flower grower. Meenu is impulsive, headstrong, playful and romantic, a lover of music, dance and song. Bala is clearly dazzled by her and will take care of her with great devotion; but will that be enough to overcome their differences?

I was reminded of the conversation between Lady Laura Kennedy and Violet Effingham in Chapter 10 of Anthony Trollope's Phineas Finn, in which Lady Laura lists the reasons Violet should marry her brother:

"Because it would save him. Because you are the only woman for whom he has ever cared, and because he loves you with all his heart..."

Violet responds,

"It seems to me that all your reasons are reasons why he should marry me;—not reasons why I should marry him."

Should Meenu marry Major Bala? (And come to think of it, is Manohar, who is tied to the glitz, glamour, crassness and shallowness of the film industry, a good match for the the shy, serious Sowmya?)

Perhaps I'm guilty of viewing this movie from an American perspective, where we (so realistically!) expect total compatibility in all areas between husbands and wives. But it seems to me that these couples are likely to experience problems down the road.

Two counter-examples
Or perhaps not. There are (at least) two other Indian films that may have been influenced by Sense & Sensibility that also treat relationships between couples that at first glance don't seem to be well-matched: Parineeta (The Married Woman, 1953) and Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (My Heart Belongs to You, 1998). Both movies have endings that, while ambiguous, are distinctly hopeful.

In Parineeta, the reserved Shekar (Ashok Kumar) is twice the age of the irrepressible Lalita (Meena Kumari), and has watched her grow up in the household next door. Nonetheless, or maybe inevitably, love blossoms between the two. Misunderstandings and family feuds separate them, and both receive proposals from kind, sincere people that they don't love. Their connection is severely tested,

but—spoiler alert!—ultimately is made stronger for surviving the trial.

In Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, Aishwarya plays Nandini, the vivacious daughter of Pandit Darbar, a musician (see "Bollywood Rewatch 1" for videos of her spectacular dance numbers from HDDCS). Nandini falls in love with the teasing Sameer (Salman Khan), a visiting Italo-Indian student of her father. But when the Pandit finds out about their romance, he banishes Sameer and arranges Nandini's marriage to the wealthy Vanraj (Ajay Devgan in one of his best performances). Vanraj is several years older than Nandini, and is quiet, reserved, and thoughtful to the point of brooding—like, dare I say it, Colonel Brandon to Nandini's Marianne, or Shekar to Lalita.

When Vanraj discovers that his wife loves another man, he decides to try to reunite them. They go on a journey to Italy (or, rather, "Italy"; the locations were shot in Hungary) and—spoiler alert!—after many difficulties and a near-tragedy, track down Sameer. Nandini is faced with the choice of leaving the kind and devoted Vanraj for the object of her first crush, or staying with her husband. Her decision, and the reasons and emotions that inform it, give us (or at least me) hope for the future of the couple—and perhaps for Meenu and Major Bala as well.

For other posts in this series, please see:

Bollywood Rewatch 1: Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam

Bollywood Rewatch 2: Vivah and India's missing daughters

Saajan

Saajan (1991) features two of my favorite Bollywood actors, Sanjay Dutt and Madhuri Dixit, and one of my least favorite, Salman Khan. The plot is relatively straightforward, at least for Bollywood: Aman is a crippled orphan befriended in childhood by Akash and taken in by his family. When the two boys become young men, Aman (Sanjay) has become responsible and thoughtful, and writes poetry under the pen-name Sagar; Akash (Salman) has become a frivolous playboy. Madhuri is Pooja, a bookseller who is Sagar's biggest fan. Aman, ashamed of his inability to defend Pooja one night when they're accosted by a gang, decides to make her believe that the young, rich, handsome and musclebound Akash is Sagar.

Yes, it's the Cyrano de Bergerac story, with the twist that Aman is Akash's adopted brother, and feels that he bears an unpayable obligation to Akash's family. Choosing Sanjay--an actor with brooding, soulful eyes and the smoldering physical presence of the young Robert Mitchum--to play the disabled poet Aman was a bold idea. Unfortunately the other two major casting choices are either completely predictable or befuddling. Salman is cast utterly to type as the playboy Akash. But if you're typecasting, why would you give the superb dancer Madhuri Dixit a major role as their mutual love interest, and then give her just one dance number? And the choreography for that one number is mediocre--although that's actually an improvement over the rest of the songs, for which the choreography is nonexistent. The music by Nadeem-Shravan and Amar Halidpur-Faiz Anwar is enjoyable, if not incredibly memorable on a first hearing (I did notice that the soundtrack was ranked number 28 in the all-time top 40 soundtracks in a recent BBC poll, so perhaps it grows on you), and Lawrence D'Souza's direction isn't particularly subtle. Still, I'd say it's worth seeing for Sanjay and Madhuri.

Two years later Sanjay and Madhuri would be reunited in the delirious Khal Nayak (1993), a film that gave both actors more room to deploy their considerable talents and appeal. In that film Sanjay plays a gangster's lieutenant and Madhuri a police agent who becomes his moll in order to send information to her police contact (and boyfriend) Jackie Shroff. Several of the dance numbers from the film have become classics, including the racy "Choli Ke Peeche" ("What's underneath my blouse?"), the wildly surreal "Palki Pe Hoke Sawar" and the Las-Vegas-on-acid title song. Madhuri and Sanjay's onscreen chemistry in Khal Nayak is electric, perhaps aided by their rumored offscreen affair. The obvious emotional connection between them renders the conceit of the film--that their onscreen relationship remains chaste, despite the fact that Madhuri is travelling alone with Sanjay's gang for months--utterly ludicrous. Nonetheless, the film is highly entertaining, mainly for Madhuri's superb dancing and the catchy music by Laxmikant and Pyarelal. (I'd recommend fast-forwarding through the frequent fight scenes that alternate with the dance numbers, though.)

Salman and Madhuri would later be reunited in what is inexplicably the most successful Bollywood film ever, Hum Aapke Hain Koun...! (1994). It's the glossy, big-budget family drama that Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001) was apparently trying to supplant. HAHK has at least one bizarrely great dance number, "Didi Tera Devar Diwana" ("Sister, your brother-in-law is crazy"), which involves voyeurism, female cross-dressing, and shoe-stealing. Otherwise, the film succeeds (at least, as far as it does succeed, which with me isn't very far) mainly on the appeal of its all-star cast. That cast does include Anupam Kher, who is another Exotic and Irrational favorite.

If you're interested in seeing a young Sanjay Dutt, Saajan and Khal Nayak offer him in strikingly different roles; if you're interested in seeing a young Madhuri Dixit, in Saajan her talents are mainly wasted, while in Khal Nayak she's at her most ravishing (and the dances are entertainingly over-the-top). As for Salman, I have to confess that his appeal completely escapes me.

Six months with Jane Austen: Favorite adaptations and final thoughts

Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth Bennet and Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy in the 1995 BBC series

Favorite Austen adaptations

In "What Would Jane Watch? A Fan's Guide to Austen Films," New York Times critic Mary Jo Murphy lists some film and television adaptations of Austen's novels. The article overlooks some key films, and I don't agree with some of Murphy's judgments. So what follows is my own survey of adaptations of Austen novels.

Sense and Sensibility

Hattie Morahan as Elinor Dashwood and Charity Wakefield as Marianne in the 2008 BBC series

• Favorite adaptation: The 2008 BBC production starring Hattie Morahan as Elinor, Charity Wakefield as Marianne, and Janet McTeer as Mrs. Dashwood.

The superb Hattie Morahan, an actress formerly unknown to me, carries this 3-hour Andrew Davies-scripted adaptation as the wise, kind Elinor; the other roles are also filled with excellent actors. Barton Cottage is perhaps more remote and more windswept than my image from Austen's novel, but it feels emotionally right as the correlative to the Dashwood women's decline in social standing. This was one of the few bright spots in the "Complete Jane Austen" series broadcast on PBS eight years ago.

Emma Thompson as Elinor, Kate Winslet as Marianne, and Gemma Jones as Mrs. Dashwood in the 1995 film

• Honorable mention: The 1995 Ang Lee film starring Emma Thompson as Elinor, Kate Winslet as Marianne, Gemma Jones as Mrs. Dashwood, Hugh Grant as Edward Ferrars, and Alan Rickman as Colonel Brandon.

This version is beautifully shot by Ang Lee, has a witty script by Thompson, and is wonderfully performed by a cast of actors familiar from film and television. But there's no way around this: at the opening of the novel Elinor is "only nineteen" and Edward Ferrars twenty-four, but Thompson and Grant were in their mid-30s. Colonel Brandon, whom Marianne mocks for his "advanced years" and claims is "old enough to be my father," is thirty-five; at 49, though, Rickman really was old enough to be the 20-year-old Winslet's father. Having the characters appear older than they are intended to be changes our perceptions of them. In particular, it gives Edward's flirtation with Lucy Steele (Imogen Stubbs) a different character, and it makes Elinor's "strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment" less remarkable.

Aishwarya Rai as Meenakshi (Marianne) and Tabu as Sowmya (Elinor) in Kandukondain Kandukondain

• Best updated version: The delightful Kandukondain Kandukondain (I have found it, 2000), a Tamil-language film starring Tabu as the thoughtful Sowmya (Elinor) and Aishwarya Rai as the impulsive Meenakshi (Marianne). 

In my full-length review of Kandukondain Kandukondain I wrote that it is "surprisingly faithful to its source while believably updating the story to the present." Plus, it has some excellent A. R. Rahman songs. Thanks to Rajshri Films, you can watch the full movie on YouTube, with English subtitles.

• I'm curious about: The 1971 BBC production with Elinor played by Joanna David, later a wonderful Mrs. Gardiner in the 1995 Pride and Prejudice (see below).

Pride and Prejudice

Julia Sawalha as Lydia, Susannah Harker as Jane, Lucy Briers as Mary, Polly Maberley as Kitty, and Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth in the 1995 BBC series

• Favorite adaptation: There's no contest, of course: the 1995 BBC production written by Andrew Davies and starring a radiant Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth, Susannah Harker as Jane, E & I favorite Julia Sawalha as Lydia, and Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy.

This series is perfectly cast, amazingly faithful to the novel, and rewards repeated viewings. This is the best adaptation of any Austen novel, and is a must-watch.

Greer Garson as Elizabeth and Laurence Olivier as Darcy in the 1940 film

• Disappointing: The classic Hollywood version from 1940 featuring Greer Garson as Elizabeth and Laurence Olivier as Darcy.

Garson is a lovely, if too mature, Elizabeth, and is almost reason enough to watch this version. But Olivier's Darcy seems oddly detached, the costumes are far out of period, and the ending and some of the characters are changed almost beyond recognition. If you are curious, you can read my full-length review.

• Avoid: The 2005 film directed by Joe Wright, with a miscast Keira Knightley as Elizabeth and Matthew Macfadyen as Darcy. 

Deborah Moggach's unsubtle script has pigs wandering through the halls of Longbourn and Elizabeth and Darcy snogging in a rainstorm. As I've written elsewhere, this version "makes almost no effort to place its characters in the social context of the period...Austen's book is much more subtle, layered, nuanced, and funny than you would suspect from that simplistic and forgettable movie." If you think you like this one and haven't seen the 1995 version, you're doing yourself a disservice.

Martin Henderson as Darcy and Aishwarya Rai as Lalita (Elizabeth) in Bride & Prejudice

• Bollywood-style version: Bride & Prejudice (2004), directed and written by Gurinder Chadha, starring Aishwarya Rai as Lalita (Elizabeth), Anupam Kher as Chaman Bakshi (Mr. Bennet), and Martin Henderson as William Darcy.

This film, written and directed by the creator of Bend It Like Beckham (2002), should have been more fun. But as I wrote in another post, it was "fatally handicapped by New Zealand actor Martin Henderson's lackluster Darcy and. . .Chadha's mediocre script." This "Bollywood-style" film (produced by Pathé and distributed by Miramax) could have used a jolt of real Bollywood showmanship.

Mansfield Park (updated 2025)

Sylvestra Le Touzel as Fanny Price in the 1983 series. Image source: Jane Austen Reviews

• Favorite adaptation: None. The 1983 BBC series starring Sylvestra Le Touzel as Fanny Price, Nicholas Farrell as Edmund Bertram, Jackie Smith-Wood as Mary Crawford, and Robert Burbage as Henry Crawford.

This adaptation is not perfect. The annoying music that plays during the opening and closing titles is far out of period—it sounds like it dates from eight or nine decades after the time in which the novel is set. As with other BBC series of the era it was shot on video, and so the image is soft-grained and flattened. And despite the five-hour running time, the conclusion feels rushed: we cut too quickly from Edmund Bertram's revelation of Mary Crawford's worldly principles to his wondering "whether a very different type of woman might not do just as well—or a great deal better." The delicious comedy of Austen's final chapter—"I purposely abstain from dates on this occasion, that every one may be at liberty to fix their own, aware that the cure of unconquerable passions, and the transfer of unchanging attachments, must vary much as to time in different people"—is, alas, missing.

But otherwise the dramatization by Ken Taylor is very faithful to the novel, with large chunks of the dialogue coming straight from Austen. Sylvestra Le Touzel, familiar from many later roles (including my favorite adaptation of Northanger Abbey discussed below), plausibly looks Fanny Price's age (18), and credibly expresses her mix of social timidity and moral strength —although perhaps she is directed to convey wide-eyed panic once or twice too often. Nicholas Farrell is an ideal Edmund; we can believe him principled, and yet subject to temptation against his better judgment. The other actors' performances are excellent across the board. Special honors from this viewer go to Anna Massey as a wonderfully horrible Mrs. Norris, and to Jackie Smith-Wood as the flirtatious (and harp-playing!) Mary Crawford.

Frances O'Connor as Fanny Price in the 1999 film

• Honorable mention: The 1999 film directed and written by Patricia Rozema, starring Frances O'Connor as Fanny Price, Jonny Lee Miller as Edmund Bertram, E & I favorite Justine Wadell as Julia Bertram, and a menacing Harold Pinter as Sir Thomas.

Rozema makes explicit—perhaps too explicit—the slavery subtext of Austen's novel. She also turns Fanny into the young Jane Austen: we see her scribbling stories and anachronistically surrounded by balled-up pieces of paper (paper was very expensive in Austen's day and would hardly be wasted). More Becoming Jane than Mansfield Park.

• Avoid at all costs: The 2007 ITV version, broadcast as part of PBS' "Complete Jane Austen" series, is mis-conceived on every level: mis-directed by Iain MacDonald, mis-written by Maggie Wadey, and starring a miscast Billie Piper as a bold and athletic Fanny. 

Deepika Padukone as Naina and Ranbir Kapoor as Bunny in Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani

• Bollywood versions: The "shy girl secretly in love with her male best friend" plot, (very) loosely based on Mansfield Park, has been used frequently in Bollywood films such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (Something is happening, 1998), Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow may never come, 2003), Ishq Vishk (Love and all that, 2003), and Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani (These young people are crazy, 2013). All of these films are recommendable if you're open to Bollywood storytelling conventions.

Emma (updated 2020)

Romola Garai as Emma and Jonny Lee Miller as Mr. Knightley in the 2009 BBC series

• Favorite adaptation: The 2009 BBC production starring Romola Garai as Emma, Jonny Lee Miller as Mr. Knightley, and E & I favorite Jodhi May as Mrs. Weston.

This adaptation, written by Sandy Welch (North & South), is expansive, lushly photographed, and fully justifies its 4-hour running time.

Mia Goth as Harriet and Anya Taylor-Joy as Emma in the 2020 film version.

• Honorable mention: The 2020 version starring Anya Taylor-Joy as Emma, Johnny Flynn as Mr. Knightley, and Bill Nighy as Mr. Woodhouse.

In the original version of this post I wrote "I will get a fair amount of dissent from this opinion, I'm sure, but I found the less-than-perfectly faithful 1996 film starring Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma, Greta Scacchi as Mrs. Weston, and Toni Collette as Harriet Smith to be pretty entertaining, although I haven't been tempted to rewatch it since." That version has been completely superseded by this one. Director Autumn de Wilde's eye-popping visuals and wide-eyed leading lady Anya Taylor-Joy were perfect for rendering Austen's most irony-filled work. De Wilde's visual style and Taylor-Joy's quizzical stare place invisible quotation marks around every scene, and if period deportment is largely absent, the period costumes are sumptuous.

• Disappointing: The 1996 ITV version starring Kate Beckinsale as Emma, Samantha Morton as Harriet Smith, and Olivia Williams as Jane Fairfax.

Despite an Andrew Davies script, this version fails to engage. The problem for me is Beckinsale, who in looks and characterization simply is not my image of Emma. (She seems a much better match for the character of Lady Susan in Whit Stillman's Love and Friendship (2016), although I have to qualify that judgment by confessing that I haven't yet seen it).

Paul Rudd as Josh (yes, he's reading Nietzsche) and Alicia Silverstone as Cher in Clueless

• Updated version: Clueless (1995), directed and written by Amy Heckerling, starring Alicia Silverstone as Cher (Emma) and Paul Rudd as Josh (Mr. Knightley).

I missed this teen comedy when it first came out, and may have waited too long to see it. Heckerling (Fast Times at Ridgemont High) cleverly updates Emma to 1990s Beverly Hills High (called "Bronson Alcott High" in the movie). But as with Aisha (see below), the updating places a key issue in stark relief: why should we care about this superficial and super-privileged character? Silverstone handles the (often slapstick) comedy adroitly, but I liked this movie less than I was expecting to.

Update 19 July 2025: After a Jane Austen Society of North America Clueless watch party today, I find I have to upgrade my estimation of this movie. Cher is a wonderful comic creation, delightfully portrayed by Alicia Silverstone. She's not exactly Emma, but there are many clever parallels to scenes from the book. (And some equally clever divergences: Christian (Justin Walker) is concealing a different sort of romantic secret than Frank Churchill.) Heckerling's script includes some priceless, laugh-out-loud lines, and the film just glows thanks to Heckerling's direction and Bill Pope's cinematography. I'm glad I gave it a second chance.

• Bollywood version: Aisha (2010), starring Sonam Kapoor as Aisha (Emma) and Abhay Deol as Arjun (Mr. Knightley).

In "Who cares if Tanu Weds Manu? The new Bollywood romantic comedy," I wrote that Sonam Kapoor "is pretty enough, but blank: her performance suggests that Aisha really is as shallow as she seems. By the end of the movie we've seen three couples united, and all of the romantic happy endings feel unearned."

Northanger Abbey

Carey Mulligan as Isabella Thorpe and Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland in the 2007 ITV production

• Favorite adaptation: The 2007 ITV production directed by Jon Jones and written by Andrew Davies, starring Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland, J. J. Feild as Henry Tilney, Carey Mulligan as Isabella Thorpe, and Sylvestra Le Touzel as Mrs. Allen.

This version is too short at a mere 90 minutes, and takes some liberties with the novel. But the principles are perfect (and appear age-appropriate) for their roles, and despite the compression required to fit the story into a 90-minute frame Davies' script brings out a great deal of the novel's wit and charm.

Persuasion

Ciarán Hinds as Captain Wentworth and Amanda Root as Anne Elliot in the 1995 BBC production

• Favorite adaptation: The 1995 BBC production directed by Roger Michell, written by Nick Dear, and starring Amanda Root as Anne Elliot, Ciarán Hinds as Captain Frederick Wentworth, and Fiona Shaw as Mrs. Croft.

Almost as great a miracle as the Jennifer Ehle-Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice adaptation of the same year, this version beautifully renders key scenes from Austen's novel (and, amazingly, is able to do so in under two hours). Both Root and Hinds are completely convincing as the estranged lovers who are suddenly reunited after eight years apart. It's clear, too, that great care has been taken in portraying locations, interiors, music, and other details from the novel. Not to be missed.

• Avoid at all costs: The 2007 ITV production directed by Adrian Shergold and written by Simon Burke, starring Sally Hawkins as Anne and Rupert Penry-Jones as Wentworth.

A disaster from the start (when, at a dinner party, Anne casually utters lines from the novel's climactic letter scene) to the finish (when Anne sprints through the streets of Bath to publicly throw herself into the arms of Wentworth, something no woman of her time and situation would do). You can see my more detailed commentary in the post "The Complete Jane Austen: Unpersuasive." While I've admired Hawkins' work in Tipping the Velvet (2002), Fingersmith (2005), Happy-Go-Lucky (2008), An Education (2009) and Never Let Me Go (2010), she is out of place here, and blond, bland Penry-Jones is unconvincing as a seasoned veteran of close naval combat.

Final thoughts

Spending six months re-reading Jane Austen's novels (plus some of her letters and works unpublished during her lifetime) has been a remarkable experience for me. I hope in this series I've been able to convey some of my sense of discovery; I'm deeply grateful for the work of passionate readers and scholars who have revealed layers of meaning in her books of which I wasn't aware before.

But I also hope I've communicated the sheer pleasure of spending an extended amount of time in Austen's company, and perhaps inspired you to consider reading or re-reading her novels. Her books are inexhaustible; I know that I will be returning to them again and again.

Sources on Austen and her world consulted for this series

• Henry Austen, "Biographical Notice of the Author," in Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, John Murray, 1818
• George Boukulous, "The politics of silence: Mansfield Park and the amelioration of slavery." NOVEL: A Forum on Fiction, Vol. 39 No. 3, 2006, pp. 361-383
• Paula Byrne, The Real Jane Austen: A Life in Small Things, William Collins, 2014
• R. W. Chapman, Jane Austen: Facts and Problems, Oxford University Press, 1948
• R. W. Chapman, ed., Jane Austen's letters to her sister Cassandra and others, Oxford University Press, 1932
• Edward Copeland, Women Writing About Money: Women's Fiction in England, 1790-1820, Cambridge University Press, 1995.
• Edward Copeland and Juliet McMaster, eds. The Cambridge Companion to Jane Austen, Second Edition. Cambridge University Press, 2011, especially Chapter 1: Jan Fergus, "The professional writer"; Chapter 8: Juliet McMaster, "Class"; Chapter 9: Edward Copeland, "Money"; and Chapter 10: David Selwyn, "Making a living."
• Frank Gibbon, "The Antiguan connection: Some new light on Mansfield Park." The Cambridge Quarterly, Volume 11 Issue 2, 1982,  pp. 298-305.
• Jocelyn Harris, A Revolution Almost Beyond Expression: Jane Austen's Persuasion, University of Delaware Press, 2007
• James Heldman, "How Wealthy is Mr. Darcy—Really? Pounds and Dollars in the World of Pride and Prejudice." Persuasions 12, 1990, 38-49. https://jasna.org/persuasions/printed/number12/heldman.htm
• Robert D. Hume, "Money in Jane Austen." The Review of English Studies, New Series (2013), Vol. 64, No. 264, pp. 289-310. doi: 10.1093/res/hgs054
• [Walter Scott] "Art. IX. Emma, A Novel" [review]. The Quarterly Review, Vol. XIV, No. XXVII, October, 1815, p. 188-201. https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/review-of-emma-in-the-quarterly-review-1815
• Brian Southam, Jane Austen and the Navy, Hambledon and London, 2000
• Brian Southam, "The silence of the Bertrams: Slavery and the chronology of Mansfield Park." Times Literary Supplement, 17 February 1995, pp. 13-14.
• Katherine Toran, "The Economics of Jane Austen’s World," Persuasions On-Line, 36(1), 2015. https://jasna.org/persuasions/on-line/vol36no1/toran.html 

Other posts in the "Six months with Jane Austen" series:

• Persuasion and Jane Austen's sailor brothers
• Persuasion and the British Navy at war
• Northanger Abbey and women writers and readers
• Emma and the fate of unmarried women
• Mansfield Park and slavery III: Mansfield Park, an estate built on "the ruin and labour of others"
• Mansfield Park and slavery II: Lord Mansfield and the antislavery movement
• Mansfield Park and slavery I: Fanny Price and Dido Elizabeth Belle
• Pride and Prejudice and the marriage market
• Sense and Sensibility, inheritance, and money
• The plan