Step off, Superman - Hrithik Roshan is gonna kick your ass! by Glenn Belverio

While the rest of gay New York, and its gay tourists, were readying themselves for PRIDE (which I don’t celebrate because ‘pride’ is one of the seven deadly sins) on Friday, I was making a holy pilgrimage out of Manhattan and into the wild, uncharted territory of Jackson Heights, Queens. I went to pay homage to Hrithik Roshan—subcontinental superstar of the just-released Bollywood superhero film KRRISH, which was playing at the Eagle, an old Art Deco theater and former porn house in Queens’ Indian neighborhood. (Even though I just found out that KRRISH is actually playing in Manhattan too! Take that, Superman!)

KRRISH is being promoted as B-Wood’s answer to Superman, Spiderman, Batman, yadda yadda, but has little in common with those lycra-wrapped quasi-spectacles. First of all, Hrithik has more sexual charisma in his (extra) thumb than the American variety has in their entire over-hyped bodies. (My friend Damion summed it up in an email to me regarding the upcoming Superman film: "Interesting that Krrish comes out the same time as the Americans with their Superman….It's a bird, it's a plane – oh no no no you stupid child, it's just American neuroses of waning omnipotence in light of sustained military defeat, economic impotence and cultural decline.”) And second, and most importantly of all, the Superman actor and the rest of his limitedly talented ilk lack the most important skills of all: Singing and dancing! To see Hrithik dance—to gaze upon him as he gyrates his formidable, breathtaking bod before Bollywood’s trademark snowcapped mountains and impossibly azure skies (hyper-idealized settings which remind me of images from Nazi and Chinese Communist propaganda)—is to experience a divine, cock-tease fantasia (all those almost-kisses!) wrapped in layers of dizzying, mystical orchestration and recherché kitsch costuming. It’s like the moves of Gene Kelly morphed with Michael Jackson’s and possessed by the entire pantheon of Hindu deities who’ve each consumed a triple shot Shiva power boost non-fat chai latte. Hrithik Roshan is, in short, the bee’s knees. (When Hrithik appears in public in India, riotous frenzies erupt among legions of delirious fans—a phenomenon dubbed “Hrithikmania” by the Indian media.)

And his female co-star does a fantastic job as well. (Yes, I did notice there was a woman in this number too.) The above clip is from the science fiction film, Koi Mil Gaya which KRRISH is the sequel to. Koi is like E.T. combined with Jerry Lewis’s The Nutty Professor. Hrithik plays Rohit, a mentally retarded man still attending grammar school who is transformed into—dare I say it—a metrosexual version of Lewis’s Buddy Love by an alien named Jadoo (Hindi for ‘magic’). Since many Bollywood films deal with issues concerning India’s class system and religions—after all, Bollywood’s main audience is the country’s 300 million people who live below the poverty line—it’s obvious that Rohit is meant to represent an ‘untouchable’ from the subcontinent’s lower caste. The aliens represent the mystical forces of Hinduism (Rohit is visited by Jadoo after he prays to Lord Krishna) and demonstrate the rewards one will receive for keeping the faith. The analogous religious theme carries over into KRRISH where Rohit’s son, also played by Hrithik, is named Krishna—later shortened to Krrish when he’s in superhero costume mode. Because Protestant America lacks the transcendent, flamboyant aesthetics of Hinduism—an integral force in Bollywood song and dance numbers—we’re left with a Superman whose interplanetary pedigree seems vague and rootless. Examining this secular sci-fi invention which is a product of a young nation and culture, one would probably have to resort to Freudianism for parables—Superman as omnipotent father figure in a country where the concept of family is comparably unstable. (The strength of family bonds is a major theme in Bollywood films.) It’s interesting to note that while America has been producing superhero epics since the 1930’s, it’s taken India 70 years to catch up—probably because the need to manufacture a supernatural protector was unnecessary in a country saturated in ancient, ubiquitous religious faith and ritual. And while KRRISH’s light pop culture treatment of Lord Krishna will unlikely do much to alter Hinduism’s stance in Indian culture, America already began its descent into postmodern religious cynicism in the early ‘70s—witness ‘Jesus Christ’ in a Superman T-shirt and a full face of clown makeup in the musical Godspell or the camp relic that is Jesus Christ Superstar. (Yes, believe it or not, mighty Madonna was not the first to tinker with Christianity in a musical context.)

Before I’m accused of over-intellectualizing or justifying an erotic obsession, let’s get to the root of the real issue here: What role can I realistically play in helping Hrithik crossover into the American market? How can I, a fellow Capricorn (Hrithik’s birthday is one day before mine), help a 6’2” Hindu make it in the land of midget Scientologists? Well, as a writer I could do for him what Norman Mailer did for Marilyn Monroe. (I don’t think his wife will mind me hanging around their Mumbai suburb home—I’ll help in the kitchen and do Hrithik’s laundry.) I could help him get a Calvin Klein underwear modeling contract in New York. I could introduce him to my friends in Hollywood (Vaginal Davis and the Goddess Bunny, but it’s a start). I’m sure Hollywood can computer generate his extra thumb out (check it out in the photo below) even though I certainly don’t love him any less because of this peculiar deformity (it’s considered good luck in India to be born with three thumbs.) As my friend Corey and I were leaving the theater in Manhattan after my second viewing of KRRISH, two beautiful young Indian women—who seemed mildly embarrassed by their country’s melodramatic camp excesses—asked us if the film was “cheesy enough for us.” When I revealed myself as a huge fan of Hrithik’s, one of the women dropped her cool pose and gushed with giddy abandon. “Isn’t he the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen? If only we could clone him and have an entire world full of Hrithiks….it would end war and hatred and we’d all live in Hrithik harmony.”

"Sounds good to me,” I replied.

 

Hrithik often resorts to the seductive armpit pose in order to conceal his third thumb.

P.S. - My first book, Confessions from the Velvet Ropes, will be released in two weeks...a website/blog will launch later this week and there will be two parties in New York. I will post the details here at A Shaded View soon.

Thanks for reading,

Glenn Belverio