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    ‘RRR’ Picks Up Oscar Nomination for Best Song

    Pop quiz: What are the three R’s?They aren’t reduce, reuse, recycle — this awards season, one of the hottest topics of conversation has quickly become the Telugu-language Indian action spectacular “RRR,” or “Rise, Roar, Revolt,” which picked up an Oscar nomination for best song on Tuesday.The movie, which stars two of India’s most popular actors — Ram Charan and N.T. Rama Rao Jr. — is set in Delhi during the early 1920s and follows two patriotic but philosophically opposed men who team up to rescue a kidnapped girl (Twinkle Sharma) from British colonial officials (Alison Doody and Ray Stevenson).The film was already a worldwide box office success when it was released in March — it was directed by one of India’s most successful filmmakers, S.S. Rajamouli, with a whopping $72 million budget — and grossed $65 million during its opening weekend.But now, it has become the rare Indian hit to catch on with American viewers outside the Indian diaspora, thanks to word-of-mouth social media buzz and an unusual theatrical rerelease strategy.After the film, originally distributed by Sarigama Cinemas, initially played at 1,200 screens across the country in March — and began streaming on Netflix in late May — Dylan Marchetti, the president of the distributor Variance Films, saw its potential crossover appeal when he watched it repeatedly with enthusiastic audiences.So Variance got in touch with Sarigama, and they took the rare step of relaunching the film — sold to moviegoers as an “encoRRRe” — which led to its breakthrough in the United States.Speaking to The Times in August, Cristina Cacioppo, who programmed “RRR” at the Nitehawk Prospect Park in Brooklyn, said it drew moviegoers in the 20-to-30 age range, most from outside the Indian diaspora.“There was an overall wave of joy throughout,” Cacioppo told The Times. “You could feel the room smiling, the jaws dropping.” (More than three hours of Charan and Rao wrestling tigers; pulling off a daring bridge rescue involving a motorcycle, a horse and a flaming train car; and schooling British partygoers as they dance in perfect synchronization in matching suspenders will do that.)Josh Hurtado, a consultant at the independently run Potentate Films who collaborated with Sarigama and Marchetti on a one-night-only theatrical revival of “RRR” in June, told The Times that many attendees praised the film for the same reasons that had previously discouraged them from watching new Indian movies: “long run times, song and dance numbers, and ridiculous action” he said. “People come out saying they wish that this three-hour movie were longer.”The film also gained a robust afterlife on TikTok, with its earwormy syncopated dance number “Naatu Naatu” (Telugu for “Native Native”), becoming a viral hit thanks to Charan and Rama Rao’s playful syncopated dance moves and infectious singing. (The lyrics are by Chandrabose, while M.M. Keeravani composed the music.)After winning a Golden Globe for best original song earlier this month, as well as a Critics Choice Award for best foreign language film and a New York Film Critics Circle award for best director for Rajamouli, the film has its sights squarely trained on the big one: a best song Oscar for Charan and NTR Jr.’s joyous extravaganza of shoulder rolls, arm pumps and hook steps. More

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    India’s Love Story With ‘D.D.L.J.’ Is Still Strong After 27 Years

    Well past the film’s intermission, the crowd keeps trickling in. Some pay at the ticketing window with a couple of taps on their phone; others dump fistfuls of coins. They are students and office clerks, prostitutes from the waning red-light district nearby, day laborers still chasing dreams in India’s “maximum city,” and the homeless with dreams long deferred.India’s film industry puts about 1,500 stories on the screen annually. But the audience that files every morning into the Maratha Mandir cinema in Mumbai is here for a movie that premiered 27 years ago — and has resonated so intensely that this once-grand 1,100-seat theater has played it every day since, save for a pandemic hiatus.The film, “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge” — which translates as “The Big-Hearted Will Take the Bride” and is known as “D.D.L.J.” — is a boy-meets-girl story set against the backdrop of a moment of immense change and unbridled possibility in India.The Indian economy had just opened up, bringing new opportunities, new technologies and new exposure to a rising middle class. But it also brought new strains, as the choices afforded by economic opportunity — to decide your own love and your own life — ran up against the protective traditions of old.In many ways, the India of today looks like the India reflected in the movie. The economy is still on the rise, and it is now about 10 times the size it was in the mid-1990s. A technological revolution, this one digital, has opened new worlds. Women are seeking more freedom in a male-dominated society. And the forces of modernity and conservatism remain in tension as an ascendant political right wing appoints itself the enforcer of conventional values.The sense of unlimited possibility, however, has receded. As the early rewards of liberalization peaked and economic inequities deepened, aspirations of mobility have diminished. For those left behind, the world of “D.D.L.J.” — its story and stars, its music and dialogue — is an escape. For those still striving, it is an inspiration. And for those who have made it, it is a time capsule, the starting point of India’s transformation.Moviegoers at the Maratha Mandir cinema in Mumbai.A scene from “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge,” which translates as “The Big-Hearted Will Take the Bride.”“It grew and grew and grew and went on to, you know, become an heirloom,” said the actress Kajol, 48, who played the female lead, Simran, in the film. “I have had so many people who told me that, you know, we have made our children sit down and watch ‘D.D.L.J.,’ we have made our grandchildren sit down and watch — and I was like, there are grandchildren now?”She burst out laughing. “Children I am fine with. But grandchildren?”When the pandemic closed theaters for a year, many speculated that “D.D.L.J.’s” record run would end. But the film is back on for its 11:30 a.m. slot at Maratha Mandir, often drawing crowds larger than those at afternoon screenings of the latest releases.Some of those who show up have watched it here so many times that they have lost count — 50, 100, hundreds.A taxi driver who was in the line outside the theater one morning this fall had seen it six times, a welder about a dozen. A gray-bearded merchant of secondhand goods claimed about 50 viewings, the same for a 33-year-old delivery worker.Then there were the regular regulars, those who trek here nearly every day. Madhu Sudan Varma, a 68-year-old homeless man who has a part-time job feeding neighborhood cats, comes about 20 mornings a month.The woman with her head wrapped in a plastic bag?“I come every day,” she said. “I like it every day.”No one knows her real name — it may be Jaspim, but even she is unsure. It doesn’t matter, because everyone calls her by the name she prefers: Simran, just like the star on the screen.People buying tickets for the film at the Maratha Mandir cinema in Mumbai.Fans of the movie, which is known by its initials D.D.L.J., taking selfies in front of a poster for the film in Mumbai.Lying at night in the room she keeps as a prostitute in Kamathipura, Mumbai’s red-light district, she sometimes dreams of the film’s scenes, she says. In the morning, she makes sure she doesn’t miss the show — not even on this day when the henna she used to dye her graying hair hadn’t yet dried. She would rather come wearing a plastic bag than not make it.More on IndiaOn the Big Screen: A Mumbai theater has shown the movie “D.D.L.J.” nearly every day since 1995. In many ways, the India of today looks like the India on the screen.India’s Cram City: In Kota, students from across the country pay steep fees to be tutored for elite-college admissions exams — which most of them will fail.Renting as a Single Woman: As they delay or reject marriage and live on their own, single working women in India face an often infuriating quest for housing.Delivery Apps: Fueled by billions of dollars in investments, Indian companies are rushing to cut delivery prices and wait times, relying on an army of low-paid, harried drivers.“I don’t see any other films, just this one,” she said. “I feel great when I come here. I get lost in the songs and dance.”‘Live Your Life’“D.D.L.J.” is a love story. But it is also about compromise.Kajol’s character, Simran Singh, is brought up in London, though her father uses the income from the family’s corner store to raise his children in the traditions of India.On a European trip with friends, Simran meets Raj Malhotra, played by Shah Rukh Khan, a wealthy young man raised by a single father. The rest of the film’s three hours are spent on the couple’s efforts to persuade Simran’s conservative father to let go of the arranged marriage he had planned for his daughter and bless their union.“Go, Simran, go,” the father declares at the end, after the film barrels through tears, bloody fistfights and many songs of longing. “Live your life.”Kajol said that the movie’s middle path had broken new ground. Before “D.D.L.J.,” she said, “we only had films that talked about either this way or that — either we had films that celebrated marriages and everybody was involved from uncles to aunties, or it was ‘us against the world, we will fight it out, we will live together, die together.’ I think ‘D.D.L.J.’ came up with a very simple thought — to say that maybe we can walk a line.”When the movie was released in 1995, Kajol and Mr. Khan were both relative newcomers. Kajol went on to become one of the most successful actresses in Hindi cinema. Mr. Khan, 57, found even greater fame, becoming one of India’s most recognizable faces.Both actors benefited from an Indian entertainment industry that was itself in transition, as money flooded in with the country’s economic liberalization. Now, the country has over 200 million households with televisions, up from 50 million then. Many more people can afford cinema tickets. And India, which recently became the world’s fifth-largest economy, is expected to have one billion smartphone users by 2026.Film stars have become permanent fixtures on billboards and on television commercials. India is a huge market — it is projected to soon pass China as the world’s most populous country — and a star’s simple post of sponsored content on platforms like Instagram can be lucrative. Actors who would once perform in different films in the same change of clothes now find themselves with unfathomable wealth.Every day, fans throng outside Mr. Khan’s seaside home in Mumbai, the heart of India’s film industry, hoping for a sighting. Buses passing the road in front of his house slow down so passengers can take selfies.The film’s lead male actor, Shah Rukh Khan, greeting fans outside his home in Mumbai on his 57th birthday.A crowd gathered outside Mr. Khan’s house in Mumbai to get a glimpse of the popular actor on his birthday. He has challenged perceptions of masculinity in Indian filmmaking.On his birthday, thousands gather, waiting and chanting for Mr. Khan — and he does not disappoint. He climbs up a caged platform, throwing kisses at the fans, before breaking into what has become his signature move: a leaned-back spread of the arms.Bollywood has long favored those with legacy and family ties. Mr. Khan resonates as an outsider, a child of middle-class struggle in Delhi who lost both of his parents when he was young.The towering residence he now occupies with his family “is a middle-class monument to a man who didn’t own property,” said the Indian economist Shrayana Bhattacharya. “He became this prism and this concept. He represents this idea of mobility.”Ms. Bhattacharya wrote a book, “Desperately Seeking Shah Rukh,” about how Mr. Khan symbolizes the possibilities that only India’s liberalized economy could produce, and what he has meant to young working women as he has challenged perceptions of masculinity in Indian cinema.Taking advantage of new channels of information, he has built an image of an empathetic partner who listens, helps with household chores and shares the spotlight with female co-stars.The power of this image, he said in one interview, has become such that he has become “an employee of the myth of Shah Rukh Khan.” It is so potent that young women, Ms. Bhattacharya said, “want to be him” rather than want to “marry him,” the emotion usually associated with older matinee idols.To some women, Mr. Khan — or at least his persona — is a reminder of the ways Indian men have not changed. Surbhi Bhatia, a data and development researcher in Mumbai, said she often binge-watched his talks as an antidote to the restrictive male energy around her. If she is feeling low or uncertain, she strolls down to linger outside his seaside residence.“You know when he spreads those arms,” she said about Mr. Khan’s signature move, “there is space to just go in.”In many ways, women have yet to achieve the economic promise of the new India. Only about a quarter of women participate in the work force, less than half the rate of all other major economies.For women who have found economic opportunity, society has been slow to accept their independence. Having their own incomes — or even just a smartphone — has translated into some new freedom. But when a husband comes into the picture, Ms. Bhatia said, it brings another layer of permission and the forfeiture of leisure hours to household chores.“The phone has done so much to give access, but not solved the larger problem,” she said. “It’s making us more lonely.”Surbhi Bhatia, a fan of Mr. Khan, outside his house in Mumbai. “When he spreads those arms,” she said of his signature move, “there is space to just go in.”Atul Loke for The New York TimesKajol, the film’s lead actress, at her office in Mumbai.India is still trying to decide where to set the line that “D.D.L.J.” suggested it walk between conservatism and modernity. Added to the tension is a Hindu-first fervor under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, with Muslims in particular becoming a target. Mr. Khan, despite his crosscutting appeal, has not been spared.This month, right-wing groups vandalized cinemas promoting Mr. Khan’s latest film after a trailer showed its female star, Deepika Padukone, wearing a saffron bikini. The groups called the choice of saffron an offense to Hinduism, which is closely associated with the color.Mr. Khan is a product of a secular India — a Muslim who attended a Christian school and married a Hindu. Faced with attacks like these, he has largely stopped commenting on the country’s political direction.“I am a Muslim, my wife is a Hindu and my kids are Hindustan,” Mr. Khan said on a television show in 2020, using another word for India. “When they went to school, they had to write their religion. My daughter came to me once and asked, ‘What is our religion?’ I simply wrote in her form that we are Indian.”‘Love Doesn’t End’At the Maratha Mandir cinema, the logic of keeping one film running for nearly three decades is simple economics: New films could be hit or miss, but the crowd for “D.D.L.J.” is steady.“This picture is evergreen,” said Manoj Desai, the cinema’s 72-year-old executive director, “because it tells the story of true love. Because love doesn’t end.”The theater’s position near two transportation hubs ensures constant traffic. And it helps that the tickets are cheap: 30 rupees for downstairs seats and 40 for those in the balcony, or about 40 to 50 cents, a quarter of the price for admission to new releases.Ticket prices for the movie are part of the draw, as is the air conditioning inside the theater.Manoj Desai, the executive director of the Maratha Mandir cinema. “This picture is evergreen,” he said of the movie, “because it tells the story of true love.” “Three hours in air-conditioning, 40 rupees. Who will refuse that?” Mr. Desai said.The interview with Mr. Desai was interrupted by frequent phone calls, including one from his wife. “Home minister,” he said as he picked up her call.He and his wife, who are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, went through a caste-based love struggle of their own, though with a different ending from the one in “D.D.L.J.”When her wealthy Jain parents refused Mr. Desai, a Gujarati Brahmin, they eloped and made their marriage official in a faraway temple. Her family kept looking for them for two years, trying to register her as a minor to charge Mr. Desai with kidnapping.“Love has changed in the sense that breakups are easy,” Mr. Desai lamented.As he spoke, reporters called to inquire about a recent storm Mr. Desai had kicked up. In a scathing video interview, he had called a rising star “arrogant” for talking about taking his films directly to streaming services. The star was sent by his father on a private jet to Mr. Desai’s office to touch his feet and apologize.With Hindi cinema struggling to regain momentum after its pandemic lull, many producers and stars have opted to take their films directly to streaming platforms such as Netflix and Amazon.To purists like Mr. Desai, the growing trend is blasphemy. “There is the money, but sirrrrr,” he said, stretching and rolling his “r.” “What about theater? What about the big screen?”For the entire time that “D.D.L.J.” has been showing on Mr. Desai’s big screen, Jagjivan Maru has been the projectionist. He will soon retire after 50 years.Jagjivan Maru, the projectionist at the Maratha Mandir cinema, has been working there for more than 50 years, but plans to soon retire.The film draws a seemingly unending stream of viewers with themes that resonate across generations.When he sets up the day’s show, staff downstairs change into their uniforms, prepare the popcorn and samosas in the dimly lit corner concession stand and mop the marble floor between the rows of worn-out seats.“For 10 years, the hall would be full — there would queues for tickets,” he said about the film’s release in 1995. “After 10 years, it cooled off a bit — but the passion hasn’t died.”As customers line up to enter the theater, the guards frisking them and checking their bags repeat one reminder: “Don’t put your feet on the seats.” They know it’s futile, because many come precisely for that — to escape the city’s heat, to put up their feet.Mr. Varma, the 68-year-old homeless man, arrives at the ticket counter with his two bags of belongings, containing a blanket, some changes of clothes and his water bottle.He sleeps in a parked auto rickshaw near a Buddha statue. Waking before dawn, he feeds about 50 neighborhood cats, for which an NGO pays him 100 rupees — roughly $1.30 — a day. He worked in the family’s furniture upholstery business before a dispute forced him to the streets. He has lost everyone dear in his life, from his siblings to his parents.But one person resurfaced about 15 years ago: an unrequited love that had left him a bachelor. Caste differences made their union impossible, just as they prevent many love stories even today. The woman got married in 1984 and went on to have children who are now married.The rekindling is one of friendship. They speak by phone once a month; he asks about her life, her children, and she asks if he is eating well.“There were others who would call in the past,” Mr. Varma said. “There is no one else now.”Mr. Varma takes his seat on the ground floor of the cinema hall. In the row in front of him is Simran, the prostitute.Madhu Sudan Varma sleeping in an auto rickshaw parked on a street in Mumbai. He comes to about 20 screenings a month.Simran, so named after the movie’s lead female character, dancing to one of the movie’s many songs.When the movie’s wildly popular songs come on, Simran shimmies in her seat, singing along and getting up to dance in the aisle. She mimics the dialogue. And when the Simran on the screen waves goodbye to Raj, the Simran in the theater also waves her hand in goodbye.Every time the light from the screen reflects on Mr. Varma’s face, he is lounged in his seat, his soft eyes glued to the film.“I find peace here,” Mr. Varma said. “I get a little calm.” More

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    Israeli Filmmaker’s Critique of ‘The Kashmir Files’ Draws Fierce Backlash

    The filmmaker, Nadav Lapid, criticized “The Kashmir Files,” a Hindi-language film that depicts a violent chapter in the restive region of Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir.NEW DELHI — A prominent Israeli filmmaker who sharply criticized a popular but contentious Indian film at a government-sponsored film festival faced a police complaint on Tuesday as Israeli diplomats scrambled to apologize.The filmmaker, Nadav Lapid, used his closing remarks at the festival, which was in the Indian state of Goa, to criticize “The Kashmir Files,” a Hindi-language feature film depicting a violent chapter in the restive region of Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir during which members of the Kashmiri Pandit community were persecuted, attacked and killed.The violence and subsequent exodus of Kashmiri Pandits, a Hindu minority in the Muslim-majority region, occurred during a militant insurgency against Indian rule in the late 1980s and early 1990s. The film, a blockbuster hit that includes graphic scenes of violence, has been heavily promoted by India’s ruling Hindu nationalist party, the Bharatiya Janata Party, as a moving reflection of a sordid chapter in Kashmir’s history.State governments controlled by the B.J.P. gave their full endorsement of the film. Government workers were given time off to see the movie, and got tax breaks on tickets. The party paid for movie tickets for party workers, and later organized screenings.Some film critics and opposition politicians, however, found the film dangerously and unnecessarily provocative. The film supports a B.J.P. narrative of Hindu persecution to emphasize subjugation, a theme that is often repeated in political speeches and in efforts by top government officials to rewrite India’s history, playing up violence committed by Muslims against Hindus.The filmmaker, Mr. Lapid, issued his critique on Monday in remarks at the International Film Festival in India, where he was the festival’s jury head.“That felt to us like a propaganda, vulgar movie, inappropriate for an artistic competitive section of such a prestigious film festival,” Mr. Lapid said.“I feel totally comfortable to share openly these feelings here with you onstage,” he added, “since the spirit that we felt in the festival can surely accept also a critical discussion, which is essential for art and for life.”Nadav Lapid during the 74th Cannes Film Festival in France in 2021.Eric Gaillard/ReutersThe backlash to his remarks — from Indian politicians, Bollywood actors, Israeli diplomats and members of the public — was swift and severe.A Hindu lawyer in Goa filed a police complaint against Mr. Lapid early Tuesday, citing a criminal law that prohibits speech that deliberately offends religious sentiments.Israel’s ambassador to India, Naor Gilon, condemned Mr. Lapid’s comments on Twitter as “presumptuous and insensitive.”“You should be ashamed,” he added of Mr. Lapid, complaining that the filmmaker’s speech had made the work of Israeli diplomats in the country more difficult.There was no immediate response to messages sent to Mr. Lapid for comment. But earlier during the festival, he told an entertainment trade publication in Goa that he was participating in the festival not as an ambassador for Israel, but as an artist who travels the world seeking out different cultures.“If I wanted to represent Israel, I would have gotten into diplomacy,” he said in the interview.Israel’s consul general, Kobbi Shoshani, told a local TV news network that he didn’t agree with Mr. Lapid’s assessment of the film, and that his speech was a “big mistake.”The veteran Bollywood actor Anupam Kher, who starred in “The Kashmir Files,” also called Mr. Lapid’s comments “shameful,” drawing a comparison between the Jewish Holocaust and the exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits.“It’s shameful for him to make a statement like this,” Mr. Kher said on Twitter. “Jews have suffered Holocaust and he comes from that community.”Mr. Lapid’s comments underlined India’s growing polarization under B.J.P. rule. While members of the main opposition Congress party said “hate was eventually called out,” members of the B.J.P. asserted that the “truth” about Kashmiri Pandits “will triumph.”On social media, some Indian writers and members of the political opposition defended Mr. Lapid’s right to critique the film on its merits.In India, the response to “The Kashmir Files,” which was released in March, has been deeply divided along political and sectarian lines. Nonetheless, it is a commercial success. Despite having no song-and-dance numbers — a staple feature of Bollywood movies — the film was an instant hit, grossing more than $43 million in worldwide sales. It cost about $2 million to make.The festival featured more than 280 films from 80 countries. Anurag Thakur, India’s information and broadcasting minister, singled out the Netflix series “Fauda,” from Israel, for praise. The series is a hit in India, and its fourth season premiered at the festival.Mr. Thakur also spoke, in Hebrew and English, of the two countries’ growing ties.“We have conflict in the neighborhood,” he said. “At the same time, we have thousands of years of history.”“India will be the content hub of the world in the near future,” Mr. Thakur added. “This is the right time to collaborate and reach out and make films around those stories which are not told to the world. India is the place and Israel is the right partner.”Mr. Lapid’s comments also no doubt embarrassed the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, which organized the festival, and has paid special heed to India’s increasingly close relationship with Israel. The government found itself in the awkward position Tuesday of trying to distance itself from a head juror whom its festival committee had selected and given a platform.“His attempt to politicize the I.F.F.I. platform, which celebrates diversity in filmmaking by way of stories, narratives and interpretations by filmmakers, is unacceptable and condemnable,” Kanchan Gupta, a government spokesman, said of Mr. Lapid, and referring to the International Film Festival of India, the event’s official name.“Mr. Lapid is welcome to his personal views but the I.F.F.I. platform is not meant for airing those views,” he added. More

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    A Bollywood Favorite Is Remade for the Stage, Raising Eyebrows

    Some have taken issue with the reframing of the musical, which now focuses on the love story of an Indian American woman and a white American man.SAN DIEGO — It is one of the most successful Bollywood movies of all time. Though released in 1995, it still plays daily at a movie theater in Mumbai. Its songs are a mainstay at weddings. Its lead actors became Bollywood superstars. And now “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge,” or “DDLJ,” has hit the stage.“Come Fall in Love — The DDLJ Musical” is currently in previews at the Old Globe here before a planned Broadway run. Fans of the film had been abuzz after producers announced the stage adaptation last fall, but when the show’s cast was revealed this summer, social media lit up with criticism. The news that a white actor, Austin Colby, would play the role of Rog, who was known as Raj in the film and played by the Indian star Shah Rukh Khan, led many fans of the movie to accuse the musical of whitewashing.The show’s creators say they want to tell the story of two cultures coming together. But critics of the casting decision see a missed opportunity. Amid increasing demands for more inclusive hiring and storytelling in the entertainment industry, South Asians are still underrepresented onstage and onscreen.“Just when you think we are moving on wards & upwards we are right back to square one,” Andy Kumar, an India-based performer known as VJ Andy, wrote in a tweet. “Why can’t our stories be told as they are? Without a white wash??” On Instagram, negative comments were sprinkled among the responses to Colby’s excited post about his casting. “Haven’t y’all colonized enough,” one user wrote. Another commented: “It is embarrassing that as a white man you are willingly stealing opportunities from men of color. This isn’t something to be proud of.”The chef Vikas Khanna, who was born in India and lives in New York, has also expressed his disapproval on social media. “They took away a star from us,” Khanna said during a video call. “All these guys would have gone in for auditions and the parents would have been: ‘My God, my boy is going to be Raj!’” More on IndiaA Predator’s Return: Scientists are bringing cheetahs back to India to see whether the animal’s population there can be restored after being hunted into extinction.Economic Trends: As global economic growth slows sharply, with many major economies gripped with worries of recession, India has been a conspicuous exception as its economy continues to grow.An Electric Vehicle Push: India’s success with two- and three-wheeled electric vehicles that sell for as little as $1,000 could be a template for other developing countries.Keeping the Milk Flowing: Indian scientists are getting creative in an effort to help the country’s dairy producers, and animals, adapt in a hotter world.“Doing this, you’re making our kids feel less than,” he added. “Let’s not move back. We’ve worked really hard to be on the stage.”“DDLJ” was one of the first Indian films to center on a love story between nonresident Indians (known as N.R.I.s), a reflection of the large numbers who were emigrating. It focuses on two young N.R.I.s living in London — the party boy Raj (Khan) is rich, entitled and Western, quite the opposite of the old-fashioned Simran (Kajol) and her hardworking traditional father, who says to Raj in the film: “You call yourself an Indian? You give India a bad name.” But when Simran ‌returns to India for her‌ arranged marriage, Raj and Simran try to persuade her father‌‌ to let their love conquer all. In addition to the central love story, the movie also resonates because of its focus on love of country and family.The film “touched a nerve” with N.R.I.s who were “navigating between two or three cultures,” Rajinder Dudrah, a professor at the Birmingham Institute of Media and English, explained in an interview. Individuals were having to grapple with the tension between Indian tradition and Western ideas just as this movie was highlighting them. “The idea of ‘dil hai Hindustani,’ the heart is Indian,” was also conveyed in the film, Dudrah added, “meaning that no matter where in the world you were, if you were of Indian descent, you had an attachment to India.”Narayan, with ensemble members, in the musical, which has nods to the film and a similar narrative arc.Jim CoxWhile there are nods to the film — pigeons, fields of mustard flowers, a mandolin cameo — and the narrative arc remains, this “DDLJ” is decidedly American. Raj has been transformed into Roger (or Rog), and the leads now live in Massachusetts, meeting as Harvard students in Cambridge. Aditya Chopra, who directed the movie, is also directing the stage show; the book and lyrics are by Nell Benjamin, who wrote screen-to-stage adaptations of “Legally Blonde” and “Mean Girls.”In August, Chopra posted a statement on Instagram explaining his original vision for the film involved a white male lead. (Apparently his first choice was Tom Cruise.)‌ “The most powerful way to depict a country’s culture and values is to see it from the perspective of someone who does not belong to the same culture,” Chopra wrote, explaining his goal is to showcase Indian culture to a global audience. “That is the starting point of ‘Come Fall in Love,’ the story of Indian Simran, her culture and heritage through the eyes of American Roger.”In an interview earlier this month, Benjamin said she was not surprised by the reaction “given the lack of representation” in the theater, but the uproar was still unsettling. “I was distressed that people thought that Adi [Chopra] or me or anyone would want to whitewash this movie,” she explained. “That would suggest that ‘Oh, well, when we do it, she’s going to fall in love with this guy because he’s better than the options.’ That’s not the story. I believe people who come to see the show will get that.”The musical’s writers stressed that the production still showcased a predominantly South Asian cast, including Shoba Narayan, who plays Simran, and a production spokeswoman said that South Asians represented more than 50 percent of cast members.Benjamin said the creators had considered writing the male lead as an Indian American or a half-Indian man but believed it would have been an “easy choice” that wouldn’t have worked as well. “If you don’t excavate it, you don’t add value to it,” she said, adding that Chopra “is perfectly capable of doing the exact movie as a musical, developing it in Mumbai and then renting a theater in New York, but that’s not what we wanted to do together.”Not everyone was critical of the direction the stage musical has taken. The Bollywood screenwriter Shibani Bathija (“My Name Is Khan,” “Fanaa”) saw the advantages in changing the lead’s ethnicity to make the story work for a general audience. “I think having him be South Asian would be more problematic, because where is all this objection coming from,” she said, referring to the family’s disapproval of the central couple’s relationship. The United States focuses less on caste and class differences than India or Britain, she said, so the possible differences between two South Asians would not be as apparent to an American audience. “If you hadn’t watched the film, you wouldn’t get it,” she said. “There would need to be another level of explanation that maybe wouldn’t serve the creative.”The musical’s composers, Vishal Dadlani and Shekhar Ravjiani, known as Vishal & Shekhar, also disagreed with the criticism. Ravjiani said they were proud to represent India through the musical, for which they have created an 18-song score. (The two did not write the film’s original songs, which have become classics, and only a few melodies from the movie are briefly heard in the musical.) Dadlani reiterated that Chopra wanted to tell this specific story and that it was “ridiculous” to say that “just because you’re an Indian filmmaker, you should write the story differently.”“It’s not about color, it’s not about white or brown,” Dadlani added. “It’s about a boy who’s in love with a girl and whose family is different than the girl’s family.”However, Benjamin, interviewed separately, thought of color as a storytelling tool. She explained that in her view, “with the change to Rog, you’re talking about color” and discussed how Roger’s “whiteness” gave him privilege, making things easy for him, until he faced Simran’s father.Despite the criticism of the show, among the three dozen or so audience members interviewed in San Diego, the response was mostly positive — from those familiar with the film and those who weren’t.One of the few dissenting voices was Shebani Patel, who flew in from San Francisco to see the show: “I was not pleased with the casting. I don’t hate the show, but it’s not our show.” More

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    ‘The Bengali’ Review: A Woman Reconnecting to Her Roots

    In this travelogue-meets-mystery documentary, a granddaughter seeks out her grandfather’s past.“The Bengali” documents the parallel journeys of Shaik Mohamed Musa, a Bengali man who leaves his village in India for New Orleans in 1893, and that of his African American granddaughter, Fatima Shaik, who travels from New Orleans to India well over a century later.In telling the story mostly through candid interviews with the modern-day residents of Khori, the village the elder Shaik left behind, the director, Kavery Kaul, captures the inconvenient realities the younger Shaik faces — realities that diverge from her vision of a storybook homecoming where she can bend down to touch the land her grandfather once owned. In this travelogue-meets-mystery documentary, Shaik, a novelist, shows her grandfather’s picture to villagers who have never heard of him, and who question whether this American visitor has pure motives.Viewers could easily walk away from “The Bengali” thinking the Shaik family’s story is an anomaly unique to New Orleans. But it actually isn’t. It’s part of a newly recovered body of history about a smaller wave of Indian immigration to America before the landmark 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act. In the early 20th century, Indian men came to U.S. cities as solo workers and, subject to America’s racial hierarchy, often married Black and Puerto Rican women (like Fatima’s grandmother Tennie Ford, who is African American).This significant omission from “The Bengali” underlines that, despite an intriguing premise, what Kaul actually wants to say here is in need of a lot more fleshing out. The documentary meanders from scene to scene without sufficient dramatic tension (or relevant historical context) to propel it forward into denouement.As much of the film is Shaik essentially journaling aloud in direct-to-camera interviews or in voice-over alongside stiff kitchen table scenes with her family, the visuals land as inconsequential. In other words, this feature-length documentary probably should have been a podcast.The BengaliNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 12 minutes. In theaters. More

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    KK, Bollywood Singer of ’90s Hits, Dies at 53 After a Concert

    He had just concluded a performance when he was stricken. Nicknamed “the Mesmerizer,” he recorded hundreds of songs for some of India’s biggest movie stars.NEW DELHI — Krishna Kumar Kunnath, popularly known as KK, whose mellifluous voice gave India some of Bollywood’s biggest hit songs of the 1990s and 2000s, died on Tuesday after a performance in Kolkata. He was 53.The death was confirmed by his publicist.KK had been performing in an auditorium packed with college students when, after singing his last song of the evening, cameras caught him wiping his brow as he was led offstage in a hurry.He was declared dead at a hospital soon after. The cause was not yet known, his publicist said.Krishna Kumar Kunnath was born in 1968 in Delhi into a Malayali family — a people of mixed ethnic heritage from southern India. His parents were C.S. Nair and Kunnath Kanakavalli.In college he took to rock and was a fan of Kishore Kumar, a well known Bollywood playback singer — a vocalist who dubs the songs for a movie’s lead character.After a brief stint as a marketing executive, KK, as he was called, decided to follow his passion for music. With no mentor in the competitive recording industry, he initially struggled to make a name for himself, resorting to singing at hotels to make ends meet. He broke into Bollywood in 1996 with the movie “Maachis” (“Matchstick”), about the rise of the Sikh insurgency in Punjab.As a playback singer, KK became the voice of Bollywood stars like Shah Rukh Khan, Ranbir Kapoor and Salman Khan. He recorded about 3,500 jingles in 11 languages, mostly in Hindi, and released popular albums like “Pal” (“Moment”) in 1999 and “Humsafar” (“Co-Traveler”) in 2008.With his shock of black hair and a boyish charm, KK earned the nickname “The Mesmerizer” for the way he could hold an audience under his sway with his smooth voice and easy demeanor.“When I go to a concert, I am an underdog,” he told Indian news media in 2015, “but when I walk out, I am a prince.”He sang of everything from heartbreak and sadness to love and friendship in songs like “Tadap Tadap Ke Is Dil Se Aah” (“Pining, This Heart Kept Crying Out for You”) “Bas Ek Pal” (“Just This Moment”) and “Aankhon Mein Teri” (“In Your Eyes”).Millions of young Indians took to social media after his death in an outpouring of grief.“There are some people who we have never met personally but somehow they have become an inseparable part of our lives,” one fan wrote. “KK was one such.”Cricket players, politicians, Bollywood actors, playback singers and India’s prime minister, Narendra Modi, all paid tribute on social media, and the state government of West Bengal honored KK with a gun salute.He had been singing fewer Bollywood numbers in recent years because, he said, he wanted to “rediscover” himself, telling The Times of India in 2018 that he missed “the freedom to create your own songs and music.”He is survived by his wife, Jyothi, whom he married in 1991; and two children, Nakul and Tamara.Before his performance on Tuesday, KK posted a photo on his Facebook page showing him with arms outstretched toward the audience. “Pulsating gig tonight at Nazrul Mancha. Vivekananda College!!” he wrote. “Love you all.”Dressed in jeans and a collared T-shirt and appearing much younger than his years, he shouted to the audience, “Sing along!” Waving their cellphones with the flashlights on, the audience swayed to the music.His final song was “Pyaar ke Pal” (“Moments of Love”), a favorite from the album “Pal.” The lyrics seemed prophetic:We may or may not be around, these moments will be remembered.Moments, these are moments of love, come, come along with me.Come, what are you thinking, it’s a short life.If you get tomorrow, that would be good fortune. More

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    Film on Expulsion of Kashmir’s Hindus Is Polarizing and Popular in India

    Called propaganda by critics and essential viewing by fans, “The Kashmir Files,” an unexpected blockbuster, has drawn the support of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party.SIKAR, India — A group of boys are playing cricket on a snowy field in Kashmir, a war-scarred, Muslim-majority region contested between India and Pakistan.As the boys play, they’re listening in the background to radio commentary about a professional cricket match between the archrivals India and Pakistan. When one of the boys, a Hindu named Shiva, cheers on the famed Indian cricketer Sachin Tendulkar, he is beaten for doing so, and his abusers force him to chant, “Long live Pakistan, down with Hindustan!”This opening scene sets the tone for “The Kashmir Files,” a film that has become an unexpected blockbuster, drawing millions of moviegoers across India and the support of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party, or B.J.P.The film, released in March, is largely set in the late 1980s and the early 1990s when a group of militant Islamists forcibly expelled Kashmiri Pandits, upper-caste Hindus, from the region. It has been seized on by the B.J.P. as a tool to advance its narrative of Hindu persecution in India, at a time of increasing calls for violence against India’s minority Muslims.Bharatiya Janata Party workers are encouraging members and supporters to attend, the cast and crew are doing photo ops with Mr. Modi and some states governed by the party have been offering tax breaks on ticket sales and days off from work to spur attendance.People waiting in line for a showing of “The Kashmir Files“ in Mumbai in March.Francis Mascarenhas/Reuters“Those who have not watched it must watch the movie to learn how atrocities and terror gripped Kashmir during Congress rule,” said Amit Shah, India’s home minister, referring to one of India’s major political parties and a rival of the B.J.P.From the late 1980s to the mid-1990s, Kashmir was in the grip of an insurgency led by militants seeking independence or union with neighboring Pakistan. About 65,000 families, mostly Pandits, left the region in the early 1990s, according to a government report.The region remained restive in the decades that followed, and in 2019, the Modi government stripped Jammu and Kashmir of its long-held semiautonomous status, splitting it into two federal territories administered by New Delhi and deploying a heavy security presence amid a clampdown on free speech.While the Indian government has insisted that its decision to take away Kashmir’s special status was intended to improve governance there, and to cut down on militancy, the region has experienced unrest and violence, sometimes deadly, since then, with the killings by both militants and security forces.The film’s critics, including opposition politicians and left-leaning intellectuals and historians, have called it “divisive” and “propaganda,” an attempt to sensationalize the killing of Kashmiri Pandits while avoiding the depiction of any violence against Muslims. In 1990, the peak year of the Pandits’ exodus, hundreds of both Hindus and Muslims were killed by militants.Critics also say the film has given the B.J.P. ammunition to widen the wedge between Hindus and Muslims.A.S. Dulat, a former head of India’s intelligence agency and the author of a book on Kashmir, said there was no doubt that Pandits were targeted by Islamist radicals. But he refused to watch the movie, finding its message unhelpful and poorly timed.“This movie is made to unnecessarily polarize the nation, and Kashmir can do without it,” he said.Many on the political right say that dismissing the film is tantamount to shooting the messenger.“This movie is special because before now, the actual cruelty suffered by Kashmiri Pandits had never been told in this unadulterated manner,” said Gaurav Tiwari, a Bharatiya Janata Party member who has arranged free tickets for moviegoers.Bharatiya Janata Party leaders pushed in March in New Delhi for a lifting of taxes on tickets to the movie.Sonu Mehta/Hindustan Times, via Getty ImagesMohit Bhan, a Pandit whose ancestral home was burned during the expulsion in 1993, said many in his community saw the film as a long-overdue exploration of the period.“Now that the Pandits have come to believe that justice is hard to come by at the hands of successive governments, they think this movie is it,” said Mr. Bhan, whose party, the People’s Democratic Party, led Jammu and Kashmir in an alliance with Mr. Modi’s B.J.P. before the state was changed into a federal territory.While the response to the film has been deeply divided along political and sectarian lines, its commercial success is beyond dispute: Despite having no song-and-dance numbers — a staple feature of Bollywood movies — “The Kashmir Files” was an instant hit, grossing more than $40 million so far, making it one of the top earners this year. It cost about $2 million to make. Sandeep Yadav, a businessman in his early 30s, was waiting to watch the movie on a recent Sunday at a mall in Sikar, a quiet farm town in the Indian state of Rajasthan.Mr. Yadav said that he had previously learned about what happened to the Pandits on television, and that he rarely went to the movies, relying instead on his cellphone for a daily dose of entertainment.But this movie was a special occasion, he said before the screening at a theater which had completely sold out for “The Kashmir Files” in the first few weeks of its release.“I had heard that Pandits were driven out from their homes in the middle of the night,” he said. “I was curious about the topic and wanted to watch this movie, especially for that.”Vivek Ranjan Agnihotri, the director, said he made “The Kashmir Files” after taking close to 700 video testimonies from people who had directly suffered during that period. He declined to say how many of those were Hindus or Muslims.Vivek Agnihotri, director of “The Kashmir Files,” at a news conference in New Delhi, in May.Sonu Mehta/Hindustan Times, via Getty ImagesIn an interview, Mr. Agnihotri said his goal with the film was to expose what he called the “genocide” inflicted on Pandits and his contention that leftist-leaning academics, intellectuals and writers were complicit in covering up that history.“All I am saying is acknowledge that genocide happened so that nobody repeats it against Hindus or Muslims or Buddhists or Christians,” he said.In both a 2018 book and in interviews, Mr. Agnihotri has railed against left-wing student activists and intellectuals for supporting the Naxalite-Maoist insurgency in India, calling these so-called urban Naxalites “worse than terrorists.” He has also voiced his support for Yogi Adityanath, the firebrand Hindu monk who recently won re-election as the chief minister of India’s most populous state.Some of Bollywood’s elite have praised the film. Ram Gopal Varma, a director and producer, posted on Twitter that it “will inspire a new breed of revolutionary film makers.”But some of the film’s critics have disparaged the movie for having more violence than nuance.In one scene, an aging teacher, played by the acclaimed Bollywood actor Anupam Kher, is forced to leave his home with his daughter-in-law and two grandchildren after his Muslim student-turned-militant shoots his son. His daughter-in-law is forced to eat rice mixed with her husband’s blood and then, in a later scene, she is sawed to death by militants.In Sikar, the moviegoers sat stunned by the movie’s final scene, which critics say essentially ensures that audiences exit enraged.In it, terrorists storm a Pandit refugee camp camouflaged in Indian Army uniforms, then line up refugees and shoot them dead at point-blank range.In the theater, Mr. Yadav moved to the edge of his seat as bodies slumped over onscreen. He winced when the last refugee, the young boy, Shiva, is fatally shot.“This movie makes me so very angry,” he said after the screening. “This is what will stay with me,” he added, “the pain of the Hindu Pandits and the gruesomeness of the Muslim terrorists.”Critics of the blockbuster denounced it in New Delhi after its opening.Sonu Mehta/Hindustan Times, via Getty ImagesWhile the movie has been widely seen across India, it hasn’t been screened in the Kashmir Valley, where theaters have been shuttered since the 1990s, so Kashmiris haven’t been able to assess it themselves. Just this month it was added to a streaming service that will enable some Kashmiris to view it.Mohammad Ayub Chapri, a taxi driver in Srinagar, Kashmir’s largest city, said that while he had not been able to see the film, he had gathered through social media that it cast his community in a negative light.“It makes me sad to know this,” Mr. Chapri said. “We Muslims have shared meals with the Pandits, eating from the same plate. Even Muslims were killed by the radicals, but the movie seems to paint all Muslims here with the same brush.” More

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    Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma, Master of the Santoor, Dies at 84

    He single-handedly elevated a 100-string instrument little known outside Kashmir into a prominent component of Hindustani classical music.Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma, an Indian musician and composer who was the foremost exponent of the santoor, a 100-string instrument similar to the hammered dulcimer, died on Tuesday at his home in Mumbai. He was 84.Indian news reports said the cause was cardiac arrest.Over a career spanning nearly seven decades, Mr. Sharma became the first musician to propel the santoor onto the world stage, at concerts and recitals in India and elsewhere.Before Mr. Sharma started playing the santoor, it was little known outside Kashmir. Even there it was used only to play Sufiana Mausiqi, a genre of Kashmiri classical music with Persian, Central Asian and Indian roots.The santoor, a trapezoidal wooden instrument whose strings stretch over 25 wooden bridges, is played with slim wooden mallets. On the santoor, in contrast with the sitar, sarod or sarangi, the string instruments traditionally used in Hindustani classical music, it is difficult to sustain notes and perform the meends, or glides from one note to another, essential to the Hindustani musical tradition.That might be one reason it took Mr. Sharma so many years to be recognized for his artistry.At the beginning of his career, purists and critics derided the santoor’s staccato sound, and many urged Mr. Sharma to switch to another instrument. Instead he spent years redesigning the santoor to enable it to play more notes per octave, making it more suitable for the complex ragas, the melodic framework of Hindustani music.“My story is different from that of other classical musicians,” Mr. Sharma told The Times of India in 2002. “While they had to prove their mettle, their talent, their caliber, I had to prove the worth of my instrument. I had to fight for it.”He released several albums, beginning with “Call of the Valley” (1967), a collaboration with the acclaimed flutist Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia and the guitarist Brij Bhushan Kabra.Mr. Chaurasia and Mr. Sharma were close friends and frequent collaborators. Together they composed music for several successful Bollywood films in the 1980s and ’90s including “Silsila” (1981), “Chandni” (1989), “Lamhe” (1991) and “Darr” (1993). Mr. Sharma was one of the few Indian musicians who straddled the worlds of classical and popular music.In 1974, Mr. Sharma performed across North America with the sitar virtuoso Pandit Ravi Shankar as part of the former Beatle George Harrison’s 45-show “Dark Horse” concert tour, bringing Indian classical music to audiences beyond South Asia alongside some of the finest classical musicians from India — Alla Rakha on tabla, Sultan Khan on sarangi, L. Subramaniam on violin, T.V. Gopalakrishnan on mridangam and vocals, Mr. Chaurasia on flute, Gopal Krishan on vichitra veena and Lakshmi Shankar on vocals.Mr. Sharma, center, in red, in 2018 in Mumbai. He was awarded some of India’s highest honors for his contributions to Indian culture.Pratik Chorge/Hindustan Times via Getty ImagesMr. Sharma was awarded some of India’s highest honors, including the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 1986, the Padma Shri in 1991 and the Padma Vibhushan in 2001.Shiv Kumar (sometimes rendered Shivkumar) Sharma was born on Jan. 13, 1938, in Jammu, India, to Pandit Uma Devi Sharma, a classical musician who belonged to the family of royal priests of the maharajah of Jammu and Kashmir, and Kesar Devi. He began singing and tabla lessons in with his father at the age of 5, showing great promise. In “Journey With a Hundred Strings” (2002), a biography of Mr. Sharma, Ina Puri wrote that he would spend hours immersed in music, practicing various instruments.“There was an obsessive element in my attitude to music even then,” she quoted him as saying. “It was the air I breathed, the reason I lived.”By age 12 he was an accomplished tabla player, regularly performing on Radio Jammu and accompanying leading musicians who visited the city. When he was 14, his father returned from Srinagar, where he had been working, with a present: a santoor. Mr. Sharma was not happy about learning a new, unfamiliar instrument. But his father was adamant. “Mark my words, son,” he recalled his father saying. “Shiv Kumar Sharma and the santoor will become synonymous in years to come. Have the courage to start something from scratch. You will be recognized as a pioneer.”In 1955, Mr. Sharma gave his first major public performance on the santoor, at the Haridas Sangeet Sammelan festival in Bombay (now Mumbai). The youngest participant at 17, he persuaded the organizers to allow him to play both the santoor and the tabla. He was reluctantly given 30 minutes to play the instrument of his choice, but on the day of the recital he played the santoor for a full hour — to rapturous applause. The organizers called him back for another recital the next day.He soon received offers to play and act in Hindi films, but after one film, the 1955 hit “Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baje,” he was determined to focus on classical music. He performed around the country in an effort to establish the santoor as a classical instrument.He moved to Bombay at 22; to make ends meet, he played the santoor on sessions for dozens of popular Hindi film songs while continuing to build his classical reputation.He is survived by his wife, Manorama; his sons, Rahul, a well-known santoor player and composer, and Rohit; and two grandchildren.After Mr. Sharma’s death, Prime Minister Narendra Modi was among those paying tribute. “Our cultural world is poorer with the demise of Pandit Shivkumar Sharma Ji,” he wrote on Twitter. “He popularized the santoor at a global level. His music will continue to enthrall the coming generations.” More