Posted: 10/26/2000

Chutney Popcorn

(1999)

by Sudha Narasimhan

This remarkable film from a young Indian-American filmmaker will move you.

Hello, friends of Film Monthly and beyond! I’ve decided to exhume myself from the catacombs of my daily life for two purposes. The first reason is to instill inspiration to the jaded and disenchanted (I am still a part of this group sometimes). The second reason is to discuss the film Chutney Popcorn. I know the former is very idealistic and perhaps impossible, but through my words and my assessment of Chutney Popcorn, I hope to succeed. At any rate, here’s a little introduction into what I call, “The Seething Monster That Robs Our Souls From 9 to 5 and Prevents Us from Doing What We Love.” Sometimes I call him “Fred” for short.

I am a 25 year old Indian-American who lives in New York and struggles with the daily grind. This entails the tortuous task of going to a thankless job (Fred), surrounding myself with fellow cubicle dwellers, and engaging in silly, inane conversations about the weather and what I am doing for lunch. My favorite is being passive/aggressive and slamming files on my desk and telling my smarmy boss “Yes, I will get that (fill in the blank with appropriate obligatory responsibility) done right away.”

This job of mine has consumed me to no end and I yearn everyday to do something creative. This need for something creative was in my brain right from the start as I started college and studied film production. Since graduation, I have been on a three-year search for happiness; however, my search has led me to confusion. Due to the demands of my job, the things that I enjoy to do and that make me happy are often put to the periphery of my life. A prime example is this very review. I promised Del this review weeks ago, and have only managed to work on it and finish today. My close friend Dave Pietrandrea, who is also a contributing writer to Film Monthly, has gently joked with me about my crazy work schedule, a schedule that has leaked into the weekend many times. He has said that I am a slave to my job, and you know what, he’s right.

So, how does the seething monster (Fred) tie into Chutney Popcorn, you ask? When I saw this film, I felt as if a huge crane of reality pulled me out of a muddy, murky pit laden with complacency and laziness. Pretty compelling movie, you’re thinking. Well, yes and no. Director Nisha Ganatra has made a witty, engaging, film that is full of spirit and hilarious, poignant observations on the Indian and lesbian communities in the U.S., but there are uneven spots that deter me from saying that it is flawless. But why did this film move me so much? Because of its mere existence. Before I further explain myself, here’s a plot synopsis.

Reena, played by Ganatra herself, is a struggling body artist and photographer who captures her artistry by photographing her subjects. Her sister Sarita (Sakina Jaffney) has just gotten married to Mitch (Nick Chinlund), a very amiable guy who is supportive of women’s rights and Reena’s sexuality. Reena?s girlfriend Lisa (Jill Hennessy) is completely devoted to Reena and the two share a very monogamous and serious relationship, much to the disappointment of Reena’s and Sarita’s mother Meenu (Madhur Jaffney). Meenu is the typical Indian matriarch that condemns Reena’s sexuality as a “disability,” and tries to cure her of her “affliction” by setting up contrived meetings with prospective suitors.

Throughout the beginning and much of the middle of the film, Reena is always shown as a character that is “on the outside looking in.” Meenu and Sarita have made some attempts to make Reena feel like she is a part of their family, but their sometimes off-handed comments about her sexuality and lack of Indian values always make Reena feel like an outsider. Therefore, Reena never feels like she is a part of the cultural and spiritual bonds that exist between her mother and sister. I can definitely sympathize with Reena’s identity issues since I have faced similar cultural conflicts within my own Indian family. The great thing about the way Reena is portrayed is that you don’t have to Indian or gay to understand this character’s struggles; the emotions from all of the characters are so palpable that they translate as universal.

When it is discovered that Sarita is infertile, Sarita sinks into despair. As a salvaging attempt to raise Sarita’s spirits and to connect with her family, Reena suggests that she can be the surrogate mother to Sarita’s and Mitch’s baby. Discord and hijinks follow, with many farcical sequences involving artificial insemination with a turkey baster, funny but sometimes trite commentary from Indian and lesbian characters, and Reena’s progression from pregnancy to delivery. Suddenly, Sarita admits that she cannot take the baby out of envy and resentment for Reena. Reena, in a surprising gesture of selflessness, decides to have the baby anyway, saying that she is capable of being a good mother. More discord and calamity ensue up to the end of the film, which left me kind of confused and surprised at the same time.

The conflicts that arise in the relationships between Lisa and Reena, Sarita and Mitch, and in Meenu and her daughters are very genuine and intelligently portrayed. Jill Hennessy brings this character to life by showing the internal struggle of Lisa, a woman who did not want a pregnant girlfriend, but at the same time loves Reena so much that she is willing to re-evaluate her opinions and make a change for the better. The issues surrounding the marriage of Sarita and Mitch are very real-the two face a potential lifetime filled with jealousy and resentment as Reena bears their child, a child Sarita disowned, but a child that Mitch yearns to have. Madhur Jaffrey is wonderful as Meenu, a woman who struggles to keep her children morally upright but who falters because her love for her children outweighs her own shame and intolerance. Meenu could have been a very unlikable character because she comes off initially as condemning, judgmental, and close-minded, but instead Ms. Jaffrey makes her into a sympathetic and well-rounded character that comes around and has a change of heart.

In conclusion, I know my need to describe my woes to the Film Monthly audience and combine them with a review may seem illogical, self-indulgent, and bizarre, but I wanted to illustrate how powerful a film can be to someone, how it can really make someone re-evaluate their circumstances. I really needed a jump-start to get motivated again to improve my life, and Chutney Popcorn was one of many things that really got me going again. It wasn’t just the script, characters, performances, or direction that moved me, but the fact that a crazy and original film can be made on someone’s own terms and be able to reach people from all walks of life.

If a film like Chutney Popcorn can be made and shown to a receptive audience from all sides of the street, then we have truly made considerable progress. Since America has such a diverse population, why are still most of the films and television shows out there telling stories from the same perspectives? It’s time to keep the creative and passion-filled floodgates open, not only in media, but also in one’s own life. Hence, Chutney Popcorn has inspired me to think that if Nisha Ganatra can go out there and tell her unique stories, then so can I, and so can all of us. Let’s say goodbye to what society says is “normal” (a corporate job, high-priced fashion, the number 8, etc.) and follow our own bliss.

Sudha Narasimhan is a writer and filmmaker currently residing in New York. She describes herself as a whirling dervish who occasionally spins out of control. She also likes the color blue and the number eight!

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