Bollywood Horror Movie: Naina

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Poster for the horror flick 'Naina'

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It took a few attempts to get Shripal Morakhia's Naina into the DVD player. After the first bottle of Claret, my coordination deteriorated rapidly. I finally loaded the disc and Zombos and I were soon watching this intriguing Bollywood horror remake of The Eye.

With a matter-of-fact tagline that reads, "Twenty years of darkness, seven days of hell, no one could survive it, SHE DID," we did not have very high expectations. But the Claret made us stronger and more daring. I was sorely disappointed there were no documentaries, commentaries, or any featurettes on the DVD.

Then there are the cultural differences: how would a Hindi version of The Eye fit in with the melodramatic and religious aspects of Bollywood cinema? And most importantly of all, would there be singing and dancing?

"Bring on the dancing and singing Gopis," hiccupped Zombos. "If I could stand it in Rocky Horror, I can stand it here."

"There were no Gopis in The Rocky Horror Picture Show," I told him.

"Not dressed as such, but the premise is the same."

"Point taken," I conceded. "But there are no Gopis, nor singing or dancing in this film."

"What? Impossible! I thought that was a contractual requirement for every Bollywood film?"

"Apparently horror films are excluded from that requirement." I concluded. I started the film.

The opening shows the accident that leaves the young Naina blind, intercut with a bloody cesarean-section that reveals a still-born baby girl that suddenly comes back to life as Naina's parents are killed in the accident, and an eclipse of the sun. We are then brought some years later to a point where Naina is ready to undergo a cornea transplant operation.

"I'm already confused," said Zombos.

I refilled his glass. "There, that should help."

Urmila Matondkar plays Naina with a bit of melodrama--after all this is a Bollywood film--and her overly-grandmotherly grandmother, Kamini Khanna, rarely leaves her side. Yet, the coloration of the film, the cinematography, and, to some extent the somber, bittersweet piano score are more indicative of a J-Horror-styled film.

Naina speaks briefly to a boy undergoing numerous brain operations before she undergoes her surgery, but the scene is marred by the use of a really bad bald wig on the boy. At least I am sure it was a bald wig and not a bandage: either way, it confused both of us enough to distraction. Reading the subtitles, one also gets a sense of the poetic dialog spoken in Hindi films. I should add it's also damned difficult to take notes when reading subtitles. No wonder you don't see many reviews of Hindi horror.

She undergoes the operation and soon begins to see, through her blurry vision, creepy dark figures leading patients away. She also starts to hear spooky sounds and has visions of dead people. Strangely enough, just about every dead person she sees is dressed in clean white, neatly-pressed clothes. It's comforting to know there are laundries in the after-life; no fashion sense, just laundries.

Grandma quickly pulls out the eligible bachelor photos for Naina, now that she can see, and starts working the old marriage magic on her. But Naina is becoming more and more distraught as her visions become more frightening. As Hindi cinema tradition would have it, the psychiatrist Grandma brings Naina to for help is handsome, eligible, and immediately infatuated with her loveliness-- it's love at first sight for both of them. A somewhat derailing Love Boat romantic montage ensues, and the horror portion of the film is put on hold while love is in the air.

"Wake me when we get back to the dead people," said Zombos.

I took a long sip of Claret. And another long sip of Claret. Finally, we were back on track with the horror portion of our film. I nudged him.

Naina sees more and more dead people, and they now see her. From hanging guys still dressed in clean white, neatly-pressed clothes in restaurants, to little girls with little curls in hallways asking, "have you seen my mummy," she quickly becomes one highly-strung individual. Her psychiatrist boyfriend thinks it's all in her mind (no, really), and she can't convince Grandmother that creepy black figures and dead people are driving her to melodramatic heights of over-acting.

But then there's the elevator scene. It works well, had the both of us on the edges of our seats, and is a scary encounter in a very tight spot. After it, she's back in the hospital and seeing more creepy black figures. A walk through the morgue, as she follows eerie sounds and black figures, is done with her as the only moving figure in a frozen scene of doctors, nurses, and bodies in various stages of dissection. One chilled, somewhat scooped-out individual provides a bit of a surprise for her and us, and is done in graphic fashion.

At this point in her travails, she begins to question God. You don't see that much in your typical American horror film, unless some victim or madman is yelling expletives. She questions why God is showing her these sights. Before we can find out more, Intermission appeared on screen and the film stopped. You certainly don't see that in American horror films either.

I expected to see a dancing bag of Buttery Sally Popcorn and Mr. Straw jumping into a cup of Coke, singing "Let's all go to the concession stand, and have ourselves a snack," but Intermission remained resolutely on screen.

"Thank god," said Zombos. "I really need to take a p--"

"I'll get the Sherry and Coke. "

"Capital idea!" he said, hurrying to the bathroom.

INTERMISSION

While we wait for intermission to end kiddies, let me direct your attention to this article on BMJ.com, detailing the concerns Indian eye specialists raised when the film appeared in theaters. The article mentions the onerous task of getting cornea donors due to "strong religious beliefs of reincarnation and related superstitions." It goes on to quote Dr. Ajit Sinha:

At this juncture all those who will watch the movie will definitely have an impression that after corneal grafting surgery the patients will get supernatural experiences and hence it will create a setback to the movement of eye donation. The donor and recipients both will be scared to come forward.

I certainly don't want to have corneal grafting if I'm going to start seeing lots of dead people dressed in white, led around by black-dressed figures. The article is an interesting look into the cultural impact a horror film can have in India.

Zombos is back and the sherry and Coke are poured. Let's continue with Naina.

END OF INTERMISSION

While Naina is riding the train, talking to the psychiatrist boyfriend on her cell phone, a revelation occurs, forcing her to suddenly question not only God, but herself. It seems she's not the victim. She's not even herself. The person whose corneas she now possess is the real victim. Naina drags her reluctant boyfriend along to a place she's seen in a vision. Naina is now a woman with a mission. She stops being the victim and now becomes the hero, which, in Bollywood cinema, is usually left to the boys. This sudden shift in the story woke up Zombos and myself. It was daring, different, and suspenseful.

The film at this point becomes more than a one-note horror story. Naina overcomes her fear as she investigates what happened to the eye donor, and why dead people are attracted to her. She now follows a plan of action to save the spirit of the donor suffering an endless cycle of pain and limbo, unable to reincarnate.

And the story is not over yet! It seems that death will not be stopped, and the creepy black figures collect in the thousands (at least that's what the subtitles say) for the climax. What does fate have in store?

Elements of Naina are similar to Premonition and Sixth Sense, but the mixing of J-Horror and Bollywood styles provides a story that is part horror, part mystery, part ghost story, and wholly worth a view by any horrorhead looking for something out of the ordinary.