Do We Exist or Do We Not Exist?: "Haider" versus Hamlet
Title
Do We Exist or Do We Not Exist?: "Haider" versus Hamlet
Subject
“Haider,” Director Vishal Bhardwaj’s 2014 Bollywood masterpiece, does well to choose Shakespeare’s Hamlet as its inspiration. Hamlet’s destabilizing despair and immobilizing confusion stem from what he believes to be false promises of an inviolate family unit, unselfishly loyal friendships, and a freely-evolving romantic relationship. Likewise, the film’s titular protagonist is equally affronted when his separatist militant father, Dr. Hilal Meer, “disappears” and is later murdered at the hands of the Indian government. Haider soon discovers a burgeoning relationship between his mother, Ghazala, and his high-profile politician uncle, Mr. Khurram. Even his love for journalist Arshia is complicated by her father, Pervez Lone, whose apparent military police role facilitated a pairing with Mr. Khurram to betray Dr. Hilal.
Add in the film’s sociopolitical complication of false promises made to the nation of Indian-Administered Kashmir, who had believed, after a declaration of ceasefire in 2003, that peace could be attained for the first time since before India had even attained independence from the British in August of 1947, but were once again tossed into turmoil following the installation of a new Indian government in 2014, which promised heavier border control against Pakistan-Administered Kashmir (BBC News). Although Hamlet involves a frame of political unrest due to the ceding of land by the late King Fortinbras of Norway to the late King Hamlet of Denmark, only to have this contested by the invasion of the younger Fortinbras, the violent Pakistani-Indian quarrel over land rights in Kashmir permeates the lives of the citizens to such an extant that the quarrel itself becomes personified.
If Hamlet is a child, as well as a prince beloved by his people, divided between his father’s original example and his mother’s alternative plans, then Kashmir is a child, torn between the parent nation India that it has traditionally belonged to and some of its peoples’ alternative plans for it to side with the parent nation of Pakistan. What is interesting is that, in favoring his father, Hamlet favors tradition, which serves to uphold his values concerning the ethics of manhood and political prowess. If he were to side with his mother in allowing a supposedly undeserving individual to affect that role, he would be breaking that tradition. As is noted in The Norton Shakespeare, the relationship between Queen Gertrude and King Claudius, the late king’s widow and the new king, would be considered traditional by early Germanic societies, but incestuous according to English canon law, which is the law that Hamlet abides by, as evidenced by his lamentation that canon forbids suicide (Greenblatt, 1085, 1088). What is interesting about the conflict in Kashmir, as it is presented in this film, is that it actually seeks to break with tradition. Although Mahajara Hari Singh chose for Kashmir to be part of India when originally given the choice in 1947, the majority of its people, sixty percent, are Muslim and would thus rather see it with Pakistan (BBC News). Therefore, what is considered proper, whether traditional or not, seems to be rooted in the eyes of the individual and in accordance with religion.
The mise-en-scène of this film, shot exclusively in Kashmir, evokes this best by juxtaposing sweeping views of Kashmir’s surrounding mountains with much more intimate scenes of the primary cast members, rarely more than two in one shot, enclosed by nature or by the rooms of houses. What is interesting is that these sweeping views begin with the mountains as lushly covered in green, and end with them snow-covered. This serves to correspond with the decline of the characters over the course of the tragedy. Also, the imagery of Kashmir cast in this state of ashen winter, would indicate that although Kashmir is a beautiful nation, it is one that is perhaps sleeping, even appearing dead. While the suffering it has borne reflects in an evident devastation that may not easily be recovered from, its suffering is not permanent and, like the coming of spring, its ability to reach its potential is imminent and will result in rebirth. Moreover, images such as those of Haider and Ghazala embracing in sorrow in a colorful wood and of Haider and Arshia embracing with love in the hollow trunk of a tree perpetuates the idea that Kashmir is a nation defined by its people. That their opinions, emotions, and interactions with one another are as integral to the land as the land itself, that by these forces of humanity they define it as home.
Further, the cinematography of this film places a heavy focus on close-up shots of the characters’ facial expressions, most notably their eyes. This reflects both Hamlet and Haider’s desire to confront people head on in order to know their true intentions, of either good-natured transparency or deceitful malice, by what their eyes reveal. This tactic is supported by Rhoodar, Dr. Hilal’s prison-mate, who advises Haider to “shoot [Mr. Khurram] at point-blank, aim for the eyes that entrapped [Ghazala], those treacherous eyes that orphaned you.” Roohdar is the closest the film comes to a Horatio-like character in that he inhabits a sort of voice-of-reason role. He claims, while in prison, to be neither Hindu nor Shia nor Sunni, but a citizen for the betterment of humanity. In addition, he is the only one able to deliver the message of Dr. Hilal’s “ghost” to Haider, imploring him to seek revenge, since he was the last person to be with Dr. Hilal before he died. Rhoodar’s fleeting presence as not a friend but simply an informant has the effect of isolating Haider even more than Hamlet was, and perpetuates the political focus of the film. To return, the focus on the eyes is also present in the film’s use of sunglasses, which would have the effect of disallowing the individual from being able to perceive the wearer’s true character. A military police officer is wearing sunglasses when he assures Arshia during a press conference that the military do not practice torture against captured separatist militants, which is later evidenced to be an outward lie. Mr. Khurram is also wearing sunglasses when he is elected into office, which position he promises Haider to use as a means of rescuing Dr. Hilal from the clutches of the government, but which he is of course using to keep Dr. Hilal in such a predicament.
Probably the most principle uses of this cinematography occur at two moments. In the first, Haider is performing a faux celebratory wedding dance expressing his derision for Ghazala and Mr. Khurram’s union, similar to Hamlet’s own staging of the production, The Murder of Gonzago. Haider looks upward to the sky, the vein in his forehead pronounced by rage. In the second, at the end of the film, Ghazala casts her eyes upward, suppliant and exasperated, moments before she activates the vest of bombs strapped to her chest, intended to kill Mr. Khurram along with herself, as a means of defying what they had done. It seems as though, in doing this, the characters seek to know not just the intentions of others, but the divine intentions for them. In this the echo of the militant protesters’ cries can be heard, “Do we exist or do we not exist?” This is the tragic question: does what we want hold any stake in what we receive?
Address: Islamabad, Kashmir
Sources:
Add in the film’s sociopolitical complication of false promises made to the nation of Indian-Administered Kashmir, who had believed, after a declaration of ceasefire in 2003, that peace could be attained for the first time since before India had even attained independence from the British in August of 1947, but were once again tossed into turmoil following the installation of a new Indian government in 2014, which promised heavier border control against Pakistan-Administered Kashmir (BBC News). Although Hamlet involves a frame of political unrest due to the ceding of land by the late King Fortinbras of Norway to the late King Hamlet of Denmark, only to have this contested by the invasion of the younger Fortinbras, the violent Pakistani-Indian quarrel over land rights in Kashmir permeates the lives of the citizens to such an extant that the quarrel itself becomes personified.
If Hamlet is a child, as well as a prince beloved by his people, divided between his father’s original example and his mother’s alternative plans, then Kashmir is a child, torn between the parent nation India that it has traditionally belonged to and some of its peoples’ alternative plans for it to side with the parent nation of Pakistan. What is interesting is that, in favoring his father, Hamlet favors tradition, which serves to uphold his values concerning the ethics of manhood and political prowess. If he were to side with his mother in allowing a supposedly undeserving individual to affect that role, he would be breaking that tradition. As is noted in The Norton Shakespeare, the relationship between Queen Gertrude and King Claudius, the late king’s widow and the new king, would be considered traditional by early Germanic societies, but incestuous according to English canon law, which is the law that Hamlet abides by, as evidenced by his lamentation that canon forbids suicide (Greenblatt, 1085, 1088). What is interesting about the conflict in Kashmir, as it is presented in this film, is that it actually seeks to break with tradition. Although Mahajara Hari Singh chose for Kashmir to be part of India when originally given the choice in 1947, the majority of its people, sixty percent, are Muslim and would thus rather see it with Pakistan (BBC News). Therefore, what is considered proper, whether traditional or not, seems to be rooted in the eyes of the individual and in accordance with religion.
The mise-en-scène of this film, shot exclusively in Kashmir, evokes this best by juxtaposing sweeping views of Kashmir’s surrounding mountains with much more intimate scenes of the primary cast members, rarely more than two in one shot, enclosed by nature or by the rooms of houses. What is interesting is that these sweeping views begin with the mountains as lushly covered in green, and end with them snow-covered. This serves to correspond with the decline of the characters over the course of the tragedy. Also, the imagery of Kashmir cast in this state of ashen winter, would indicate that although Kashmir is a beautiful nation, it is one that is perhaps sleeping, even appearing dead. While the suffering it has borne reflects in an evident devastation that may not easily be recovered from, its suffering is not permanent and, like the coming of spring, its ability to reach its potential is imminent and will result in rebirth. Moreover, images such as those of Haider and Ghazala embracing in sorrow in a colorful wood and of Haider and Arshia embracing with love in the hollow trunk of a tree perpetuates the idea that Kashmir is a nation defined by its people. That their opinions, emotions, and interactions with one another are as integral to the land as the land itself, that by these forces of humanity they define it as home.
Further, the cinematography of this film places a heavy focus on close-up shots of the characters’ facial expressions, most notably their eyes. This reflects both Hamlet and Haider’s desire to confront people head on in order to know their true intentions, of either good-natured transparency or deceitful malice, by what their eyes reveal. This tactic is supported by Rhoodar, Dr. Hilal’s prison-mate, who advises Haider to “shoot [Mr. Khurram] at point-blank, aim for the eyes that entrapped [Ghazala], those treacherous eyes that orphaned you.” Roohdar is the closest the film comes to a Horatio-like character in that he inhabits a sort of voice-of-reason role. He claims, while in prison, to be neither Hindu nor Shia nor Sunni, but a citizen for the betterment of humanity. In addition, he is the only one able to deliver the message of Dr. Hilal’s “ghost” to Haider, imploring him to seek revenge, since he was the last person to be with Dr. Hilal before he died. Rhoodar’s fleeting presence as not a friend but simply an informant has the effect of isolating Haider even more than Hamlet was, and perpetuates the political focus of the film. To return, the focus on the eyes is also present in the film’s use of sunglasses, which would have the effect of disallowing the individual from being able to perceive the wearer’s true character. A military police officer is wearing sunglasses when he assures Arshia during a press conference that the military do not practice torture against captured separatist militants, which is later evidenced to be an outward lie. Mr. Khurram is also wearing sunglasses when he is elected into office, which position he promises Haider to use as a means of rescuing Dr. Hilal from the clutches of the government, but which he is of course using to keep Dr. Hilal in such a predicament.
Probably the most principle uses of this cinematography occur at two moments. In the first, Haider is performing a faux celebratory wedding dance expressing his derision for Ghazala and Mr. Khurram’s union, similar to Hamlet’s own staging of the production, The Murder of Gonzago. Haider looks upward to the sky, the vein in his forehead pronounced by rage. In the second, at the end of the film, Ghazala casts her eyes upward, suppliant and exasperated, moments before she activates the vest of bombs strapped to her chest, intended to kill Mr. Khurram along with herself, as a means of defying what they had done. It seems as though, in doing this, the characters seek to know not just the intentions of others, but the divine intentions for them. In this the echo of the militant protesters’ cries can be heard, “Do we exist or do we not exist?” This is the tragic question: does what we want hold any stake in what we receive?
Address: Islamabad, Kashmir
Sources:
“Kashmir: Why India and Pakistan Fight Over It.” BBC News. BBC, 23 November 2016.
Greenblatt, Karen, editor. “Hamlet .” The Norton Shakespeare, 2nd ed., Norton , 2009.
Image Credits:
Dixit, Srishti. “Haider.” Bollywood Life, Essel Group, 21 Aug. 2014, www.bollywoodlife.com/news-gossip/haider-song-bismil-shahid-kapoor-dances-his-angst-out-in-this-beautiful-number- by-gulzar/.
Sachdeva, Pankaj. “Ghazala.” Reading the Movies , Blogger, 13 Oct. 2014, dichotomy-of-irony.blogspot.com/2014/10/haunting-haider-of-perspectives-and.html.
Angie. “Ghazala in the Snow.” A Cave: Ramblings & Reviews, Wordpress, 7 May 2016, myaseanjournal.wordpress.com/2016/05/07/haider-revenge-and-the-conflict-in-kashmir/.
Description
A critical review of "Haider," a contemporary radical film, as it is an adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet, delving primarily into the film's presentation of political unrest in Kashmir, and its use of mise-en-scene and cinematography to both convey and complicate the original Hamlet story.
Creator
Melanie Gaudet
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Collection
Citation
Melanie Gaudet , “Do We Exist or Do We Not Exist?: "Haider" versus Hamlet,” Shakespearean Journeys, accessed September 19, 2024, https://shakespeareanjourneys.emerson.build/items/show/20.
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