|
Kama
Sutra: A Tale of Love |
DIRECTOR
Mira
Nair
SCREENWRITERS
Helena
Kriel
Mira Nair
based
on the story "Hand Me Downs" by
Wajida
Tabassuh
PRODUCER
Mira Nair
CINEMATOGRAPHER
Declan Quinn
MUSIC
Mychael Danna
EDITOR
Kristina Boden
CAST
Indira Varma (Maya)
Sarita Choudhury (Tara)
Ramon Tikaram (Jai Kumar)
Naveen Andrews (Raj Singh)
MPAA rating: R
Running
time: 114m
U.S. release: February 28, 1997
Video availability: VHS - DVD
|
As
more female directors try their hand at feminist erotica, a pattern
begins to emerge. Readers of Harlequin romances will recognize
it instantly, though many women who would never read a paperback
with a Fabio clone on the cover will fall for the purple splendor
of Jane Campion's The Piano and now Mira Nair's Kama
Sutra: A Tale of Love. There's remarkable consistency in
these erotic fantasies, and remarkable narcissism, too.
Which is not to say that male fantasies (which have, after
all, dominated cinema since its birth) are less goofy; I could
fill this entire website with potshots at Hollywood sexism, both
conscious and unconscious. But let's stick to Kama Sutra,
a visual feast (like The Piano) that wants you to think
it's deeper than Danielle Steel but isn't (ditto). In the interest
of deconstruction, here are a few femme-erotica clichés
without which Kama Sutra (and The Piano) would
be nowhere:
· The proud and willful proto-feminist. This is
a woman who chafes at the crushing patriarchal society of centuries
past, conveniently sharing and validating the sensibilities of
women of the '90s. Holly Hunter in The Piano, for example,
was a feminist anachronism. Here it's newcomer Indira Varma as
a servant girl who beds the newly-anointed king, gets exiled
as a "whore," and returns to the palace as a courtesan
(i.e., prostitute) to service the king. Eventually she will leave
all this behind and live happily ever after, secure in the knowledge
that men need women far more than women need men. Especially
men such as:
· The flamboyantly sexist jerk. See Sam Neill in
The Piano, who was such a sexist jerk, Andrew Dice Clay
looked at him and said "That guy's a sexist jerk."
Here the s.j. is Naveen Andrews as the lustful king, who can't
choose between Varma and his queen (Sarita Choudhury, from Mira
Nair's Mississippi Masala). An opium addict and inept
lover, Andrews gives the women in the audience a straw man to
hiss without reservation. Ironically, Andrews was last seen as
Juliette Binoche's lover in The
English Patient, where he embodied the next cliché:
· The dark-eyed, soulful, sensitive, tough but non-threatening
man with a mane of shoulder-length hair. Whew. This is where
the narcissism comes in. The ideal men in these fantasies are
basically women with pecs and penises: feminine, but not feminine
enough to detract from their hunkiness; masculine, but not masculine
enough to make women go "Eww, yuck." Brad Pitt in Legends
of the Fall, Harvey Keitel in The Piano: you get the
idea. Here, the dark-eyed blah-blah-blah is Ramon Tikaram, who
has the perfect hunk name. He exists to provide beefcake, as
well as:
· The moment of self-sacrifice and tragedy leading
to independence. Here I'll reveal a major plot point, so
beware. The jealous king wants to kill the hunk. Our heroine
offers herself to the king, along with the promise never to see
her hunk again, if the king will let him live. Sigh. But then
the king has the hunk squished by an elephant anyway. Boo-hoo.
And so then our heroine must follow her own path, alone. Sigh.
Every talented director is allowed one wet bit of flatulence
like Kama Sutra, and Mira Nair is no exception. She has
made fine movies before; no doubt she will again. But Kama
Sutra, while easy to look at, is even easier to laugh at. |
