Movie time spiced with local Flavors

NEW DELHI

By Punita Ghose

A big day for millions of Indians means going to see the latest movie starring their favorite matinee idol. It's not unusual to read in the newspapers about police baton charges to discipline the restive crowds at theaters. And the Indian movie industry, based in Bombay, or "Bollywood," gives Indians an endless season of new blockbusters released almost every Friday, causing long lines to form in the wee hours of the morning for tickets.

No national statistics have been gathered on this subject, but scalping could well be a major sector of the Indian economy. Some Indians go so far as to lobby their local politicians to secure tickets for a big-name movie release.

So what's the attraction? Frankly, Indian movies are like no others. Made in 15 different languages, most masala (literally spicy) flicks are at least 2-1/2 hours long, with improbable plot turns, impossibly beautiful heroines and handsome heroes, intolerable villains, and at least a dozen bouncy song-and-dance numbers, each filmed in exotic locales with endless costume changes. In keeping with India's traditional values - though dance movements can be blushingly suggestive at times, and fight scenes can be excessively violent - there is absolutely no kissing.

Audiences sing along (many buy the soundtrack in advance), they hoot at any hint of passion, clap enthusiastically in fight scenes, and occasionally fling money at the screen during sexy dance numbers. Small wonder, then, that in small Indian towns, there are separate enclosures for women to view movies free of harassment.

There are movie theaters for every budget. In the richer neighborhoods, you'll find glitzy multiplexes, where a ticket can cost more than a day's wages ($1.45). More common, however, are the tin-roofed dank halls of everyday urban and rural India. There, the chairs are often shabby, and rickshaw pullers and laundrymen sit in the cheap seats up front with bags full of peanuts.

In most theaters, walking to your assigned seat means crunching past heaps of peanut husks. Few moviegoers dare to risk this task during a rare quiet scene.

But one thing you'll find in nearly all cinemas are three and four generations of a single family trooping in together, often carrying bags of aromatic homemade snacks to be opened noisily and passed from grandmother to father to daughter.

Punita Ghose is a researcher in the Monitor's New Delhi bureau.

BEIJING

By Steve Harris

In the "New Dream Hall" at the popular Red House Theater in downtown Beijing, with its wide leather seats, Dolby surround-sound, and art-house ambience, you might not think you were in the bustling, dusty city that is Beijing. But with the sound of cracking sunflower seeds and the more-than-occasional Christmas-carol ring of a cellphone, indeed you remember: This is China.

If you're not up to cracking your own sunflower seeds, which is a nationwide pastime here, then you can help yourself to a bag of "sweet popcorn" (30 cents) and a can of coconut juice (50 cents). If you're looking for a more home-grown flavor, you might try the snacks sold in vacuum-sealed bags: dried shredded squid, Korean-style kimchee, prunes, and salty plums. In the mood for something more Western? Have a microwaved hamburger and a "Black Rose" chocolate ice cream bar.

But while the food at the snack bar is mostly local fare, the movies are predominantly foreign-flavored. Five of the six films shown at the Red House Theater last weekend were from the United States. Only one of the films was Chinese. And the major draw last Saturday night at the Capital Theater in Beijing was the American film "Vertical Limit" - more than 400 people turned out to fill the large theater.

The romance of moviegoing has not been lost in China. There are always a few claps during the "kiss" scene, and many big cinemas sell flowers so a guy can buy his sweetheart a rose.

Steve Harris is a freelance writer.

(c) Copyright 2001. The Christian Science Monitor

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