Intricate Designs
It is always refreshing to see a woman-directed film
featuring a female protagonist, considering that the
majority of cinema productions are male-driven. But
because this is such a novel experience, I tend to go
in with high expectations. When I heard that Nisha
Ganatra's first feature Chutney Popcorn was
garnering critical praise, I hoped that this film
would be something new and innovative. And indeed, the
film offers an unusual and humorous perspective on
both the lesbian and Indian-American communities,
featuring an interracial lesbian parenting-couple.
What Chutney Popcorn does not offer, however, is a
lead character who engages the audience by offering
some clues to what she is feeling, or relief from
tedious TV sitcom devices, like jokes based on
stereotypes to get a quick laugh
Chutney Popcorn solicits viewers' attention
immediately, opening with the camera focused on young
women's bodies in the process of getting henna
tattoos. These intricate designs are then photographed
by Reena (played by Ganatra), who works at a beauty
salon in New York where she also displays her
photographs. The camera cuts to one of her shots,
showing a hennaed hand dipping into a bowl of popcorn,
an image that suggests the cultural mixing implied by
the film's title. Such fusing is actually a struggle
for Reena, who is a lesbian, born into a
Punjabi-American family. The film follows her attempts
to deal with the conflicting attitudes of her lesbian
friends and traditional mother, DDa (Madhur Jaffrey).
DDa tends to nag Reena because she considers a career
in the arts impractical and assumes that being a
lesbian means virtual sterility. And DDa, predictably,
wants grandchildren. To that end, she favors Reena's
sister, Sarita (Sakina Jaffrey), because, early in the
movie, Sarita marries a white man named Mitch (Nick
Chinlund), who hopes to have a family. Reena and her
girlfriend Lisa (Jill Hennessy, perhaps best known for
her role as Claire Kincaid in TV's Law & Order) ride
Reena's motorbike to the wedding ceremony, an activity
that has potential for disaster -- symbolic
and literal -- as her Indian sari billows about her.
She arrives late, just as the newlyweds
are departing, looking ridiculous in her huge helmet,
then proceeds to feel like an outcast, as her mother
visibly disapproves of Lisa. While the rest of the
family dances, Reena stands on the sidelines. This
forlorn image indicates Reena's dilemma: while she
feels marginal to her family's culture, we soon learn
that she also feels different from her white lesbian
friends because of the color of her skin.
For Lisa and Reena, though, race is not an "issue," or
source of misunderstanding. The couple's only concern,
at least at first, is Lisa's restless resistance to
commitment, which prevents her from unpacking her
belongings once she moves into Reena's apartment. And
again, Lisa's
seeming instability leads Reena to question her own
sense of identity. DDa adds to her self-doubt,
treating her lesbianism as a passing phase for Reena,
and Lisa as a "roommate." DDa even arranges for her
daughter to meet a nice young man, a family friend. He
tells Reena that he will pretend to date her, to keep
her mom off her back, if she hooks him up with Lisa,
whom he also thinks is her roommate. Reena explains to
him that Lisa is actually into Indian chicks, and, by
the way, is her girlfriend. Expecting the worst, I was
not disappointed: the guy responds to this news by
suggesting a threeway, just like too many male sitcom
characters who can't conceive of lesbians without
inserting themselves into the picture. His proposal is
a weak punchline, precisely
because it's so cliched.
Chutney Popcorn repeatedly falls back on such cheap
laughs and stereotypes. Too often, for instance,
Reena's mother's ignorance is treated as "endearing"
rather than grievous . And at one point, Reena's
lesbian friends hang out in front of the salon, and as
various women walk past, they try to determine which
of them are dykes, depending on their lack of fashion
sense. This scene is almost painful to watch because
the jokes are so clumsily set up: the actors seem to
be anticipating each other's lines, and their
performances seem forced.
The plot almost makes up for such limited acting
skills, with a complex scenario that entwines all of
the main characters. This begins when Sarita is unable
to have a child and Reena, seeing her disappointment,
offers to be a surrogate mother. But Reena's friends
remind her that she's "not a rent-a-womb!" (the film's
only clearly articulated semi-political statement).
Lisa is also skeptical of having a pregnant
girlfriend, but agrees to handling the turkey baster,
in a funny, slightly crude scene. But when Sarita
rejects the whole scheme, feeling that her marriage is
suffering, Reena discovers that she has become
pregnant and expects Lisa to help her raise it. Lisa
is overwhelmed by this proposal and returns to her
mother's home.
Even with all this trauma, Reena remains reserved,
making it difficult for the audience to connect with
her. Again and again, she appears cruising on her
motorbike, with the cool soundtrack (by artists like
Talvin Singh and DJ Spooky) in the background, perhaps
contemplating her situation. It's hard to be too
worried though, since Chutney Popcorn is a comedy.
There's no doubt that the audience will leave feeling
good, because they have been entertained while
supporting a film directed by a woman. If the packed
theatre I attended suggests anything, today's
mainstream audience is eager for an alternative to
male-dominated cinema, overloaded with special effects
and sidekick roles for women.
As a comedy, Chutney Popcorn is frequently amusing
and captivating. But, as a film raising consciousness
concerning social issues, it is not so successful. It
supplies several examples of prejudice, but rather
than seriously questioning these attitudes, the film
quickly dismisses them with simple laughs, so no one
needs to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps I am being unfair
by demanding that Ganatra set some new standards for
intelligent, contemporary romantic comedies, but I
feel that her film had the potential to do more with
its subject matter. If it had balanced its humor with
considerations of the real concerns that a lesbian
parenting couple might have in a society still
invested in the concept of the nuclear family,
Chutney Popcorn might be a film worth seeing twice.