KAMA SUTRA: A TALE OF LOVE ** out of **** Look, don't listen When I first saw the trailers for KAMA SUTRA: A TALE OF LOVE, with its inklings of cattiness cloaked in splendour, a thought came to mind: this is a film with remarkable potential for visual delights and cheesiness. Sadly, I'm convinced of my prescience on both counts. Tara and Maya are friends from different castes. Tara the princess (Sarita Choudhury) will marry the king Raj Singh (Naveen Andrews); servant-girl Maya (Indira Varma), predisposed to the erotic arts, can only aspire to be chief courtesan. Maya makes her gifts evident on the eve of Tara's wedding when, to exact malicious revenge after enduring Tara's hand-me-downs, she uses her sexual charms - that great social leveller - to be the first to seduce and leave her mark on the Raj. This does not go unnoticed, and Maya is cast out from the court. Outside the court, Maya meets the royal sculptor, Jai Kumar (Ramon Tikaram), who is himself inspired by her abundant charms. He lodges her in the home of the king's chief courtesan, from whom Maya learns the secrets of the Kama Sutra. When Kumar rebuffs her amorous attentions as they conflict with his art, Maya puts those lessons to use in her return to Raj's court as his chief courtesan. Mira Nair, writer and director, states that KAMA SUTRA is "a savage look at sexuality and relationships." Savage it is in its reduction of human motivations to machinations more appropriate to soap opera. What becomes very apparent is that this tale has very little to do with the Kama Sutra or India; this is really a MELROSE PLACE-inspired tale transplanted to 16th century India and riding on the Kama Sutra's sexual reputation for exotic appeal to the viewing masses. Those seeking out KAMA SUTRA for sex are going to be disappointed; the film is far prettier than loin-stirring, and it certainly isn't instructional. What will sustain the attention through the length of KAMA SUTRA is its undeniable beauty and exoticism. Every frame is jaw-dropping gorgeous, and it is obvious that each scene was painstakingly squeezed for grand aesthetic effect, and kudos goes to those responsible for the film's look, from location scout, costume design to cinematographer. KAMA SUTRA's greatest success is as an introduction to the text's allusions and India's rich traditions and abundant beauty. However, the virtuoso visuals cannot conceal the film's mental and emotional vacancy. The film is filled with uninspired stock characters: the debauched king who cares little for the land, the noble artist who forsakes love for art, the woman who rises above her rank thanks to her upward-nubility, the ignored wife who starves for attention to laughable effect. The script is ripe with plodding one-liners that fail in their attempt to be witticisms or philosophies. When the leaden dialogue is spoken, and too often it is embarrassingly bad, the attention truly goes limp. When the dialogue is heard against the unerring care taken to ensure that the film looks right, this oversight becomes a most glaring - and disappointing - deficiency. Overwhelmingly beautiful, alarmingly bereft of mind, the finest fineries and traditions of the Other cannot lend credibility to KAMA SUTRA's flimsy tale. This ancient text should have inspired a better reading. KAMA SUTRA: A TALE OF LOVE Directed by Mira Nair. Written by Helena Kriel and Mira Nair: India, 1996. Review completed on March 27, 1997. |