A recent piece in an online publication called for “pulling the plug on racist Bollywood films”. Columnist Shree Paradkar spoke of the image Netflix has, of airing progressive entertainment and mind expanding infotainment; of doing ‘the right thing’ such as taking down House of Cards when news about the sexual misconduct of Kevin Spacey came to light. The columnist speaks about instances of rank racism in Hindi films.
Remember that old song hum kale hai to kya hua dilwale hai. Inherent to the thought process is that if one is dark skinned one is somehow assumed to be inferior and that if any particular merit is seen in that person, this is in spite of their being dark. There is a bizarre assumed equivalency between social or aesthetic superiority and the colour of one's skin. Take another example – the picturisation of the song Aa janeja from Inteqam – there is Helen and a person with blacked skin in shackles restrained by a cage – presumably because he is savage and lustful and primitive and uncontrollable - by virtue of his skin colour and vaguely African hair style, of course.
One may dismiss this as an old fashioned view that reflected an older point of view and less enlightened times. In which case, one may take a far more recent example – in Fashion, Priyanka Chopra’s character wakes up one morning in bed with a dark skinned African man. This is when she realizes that her life has reached a nadir and that she needs to make some changes. Previously, she is also shown to abuse alcohol and drugs, suffer failed relationships, but apparently it was this that was the tipping point. In other words it is a night of casual sex with a black man that was seen to be awful enough to deliver the all important wakeup call.
Take a peek at all our leading ladies – they are all fair skinned or they are routinely made up in a way that makes their skin tone appear light. Our preference for light skin is so ingrained that women with dark skin are either sidelined or are to be seen only in ‘arthouse’, non-mainstream movies. Mention of actors such as Konkona Sen Sharma or Bipasha Basu or Nandita Basu, are always prefaced by ‘dusky skinned’ or ‘unconventional looking’ or a similar qualifier and these leading ladies, in spite of being stunning and/or talented cannot hope to enjoy the type of success that actors such as, say Kareena Kapoor enjoy.
Our preference for fair skin is reflected in the fact that Fair & Lovely is among the highest selling cosmetic products not only in India but in the world. It is reflected in our matrimonial ads that start out “wanted fair, beautiful…bride/groom”. So why should it not be reflected in our films where extras; particularly in raunchy item numbers are routinely of Ukrainian or Russian extraction – their light skin and Caucasian features, and tall statuesque selves being the only talent they need to shine on the Indian silver screen.
In our films evil people or those shown to be from the lower economic and social strata of society are routinely portrayed to be darkskinned. Hindi films will routinely cast Africans to portray drug dealers or other unsavory types . Baahubali films may have been unprecedented successes for many reasons but a progressive view on racism or classism was not among them. Predictably, the ‘slave’ Katappa was dark skinned and was seen to be unstintingly loyal to his ‘master’ or ‘mistress’.
Indian racism is always unacknowledged. The rationale offered is that since we Indians are frequently the butt of racism, we cannot possibly be racist ourselves. When many Indians express their racism, they do so either without acknowledging it or by dismissing it as a joke of some sort. However, the fact is that we Indians are also among the most racist, classist and colour conscious of people.
Though we may dismiss it as a joke, our racism is never benign or kind. Many Indians believe that people can be differentiated on the basis of their country of extraction, the arrangement of facial features and skin color and that it is OK to make negative assumptions based on this. Our films only reflect this mindset and stereotype. Will we Indians or Indian filmmakers acknowledge this? Probably not in the foreseeable future... if Netflix wants to be seen as progressive, many Indian films should probably not be a part of their offered bouquet.
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