Film Review: Sita Sings the Blues

Sita Sings the Blues
Dir. Nina Paley

In an age where religion is largely moribund, it’s a surprise and delight for me, a sceptic agnostic, to enjoy a film full of zealous religious mysticism with such great force.

Growing up in an Indian family of wavering conviction to Hinduism, the ancient Sanskrit epic, The Ramayana, was familiar to me. Very confusing – but familiar nevertheless. So when I read of Sita Sings the Blues, and its attempt to retell the story of Ram and Sita as a 2D animation, it immediately caught my interest and had me scrambling to find a copy. After quickly discovering it had never been distributed, my levels of intrigue grew even higher. Why, I thought, had a film that gained gushing reviews from influential critics such as Roger Ebert not managed to find distribution. There are, it turns out, two fairly obvious reasons: With unwitting artistic gusto, director Nina Paley decided to use old jazz recordings of Annette Hawthorn as part of the story, with Sita crooning Hawthorn’s words. Unfortunately, The flipside of this beautifully executed idea meant that any distributor would have to expensively buy the rights to the copyrighted songs, with the hope of recouping the money down the line. The problem with this is that there really isn’t much pull for a 2D animation of an ancient Sanskrit epic, regardless of how perfect a creation it might be.

But don’t worry. It’s not all doom and gloom. This means that you can download the film for free from Paley’s website! Free! I know, I know, most films can be downloaded free (illegally) these days, but at least you can do this knowing you have the directors’ blessing.

Right, enough prologues; to the film.

For those unfamiliar with Indian culture and its literary traditions, like myself, understanding the finer details of the story of The Ramayana can be frustratingly mystifying. With that said, here’s my crude and plagiarised (thanks Wikipidia) explanation: “The Ramayana tells the story of Rama (an incarnation of the Hindu preserver-god Vishnu), whose wife Sita is abducted by the demon king of Lanka, Ravana”. This, of course, only tickles the surface of the tale’s belly. Throw in an army on monkey-men, some multi-headed gods and a couple of trials by fire and your getting closer.

Understanding these complexions, Paley has the story narrated by three silhouetted shadow puppets, who bicker, in humorous Indian-inflected English, over the interminable contradictions of the story. Paley isn’t afraid to respectfully mock all the complexions and inconsistencies, and even offers a playful feminine critique of the mistreatment of Sita.

The film boasts an explosive colour palette unsuitable for epileptics, and carries a highly charged psychedelic intensity filling every frame. As Hawthorn’s recordings, mimed by Sita, filter into the story, Paley’s flat 2D animation go through a vivacious and voluptuous transformation, with Sita’s bust extending as her hips shrink and Rama looking as if he’s been on the Schwarzenegger training regime. These physical aberrations allow the characters to sit comfortably in the psychedelic, jazz inflicted, symmetrically intricate songs of Hawthorn.

It’s hard to imagine at what point Paley made the connection between the delicate recordings of Hawthorn and the story of The Ramayana. The songs blend seamlessly into the story and move the narrative along without obstruction.

In Paley’s delicately woven cultural tapestry there is room for all creative mediums. She flitters between using computer-animated imagery, vector graphics, hand drawn imagery and watercolours. The narrative ark is interrupted by counter stories, film intermissions (in Bollywood tradition) and extended trips of psychedelia. Paley respects our intelligence by not offering clear explanations and allowing us to make our own connections between the various threads.


Unfortunately, the films’ interspersing side story is much more personal and a lot less interesting. It recounts Paley’s own heartbreak story, where her partner, enamoured by his new life in India, grows increasingly cold and disinterested in Nina. In some sort of vague and arrogant analogy, it seems Paley is comparing her situation to the plight of Sita and using the Sanskrit epic as leverage to gain more emotional pull for herself. Sadly it doesn’t really work, and only serves to stultify and detract from the ecstatic rhythms of The Ramayana.

Luckily, the side story doesn’t hold enough screen time to spoil what is a delightfully charming, witty and visually ferocious 1 hour and 30 minutes It painted a wide smile on my face that lasted for the entirety of the film.

Paley’s artistic endeavour has landed her in $20,000 debt, a sum that she is unlikely to recoup. If you enjoy the film, please pass on the word; it’s the least the project deserves.

Film Review: In the Loop

In the Loop

Dir. Armando Ianucci
[BBC Films]

2009 Might be over, but there remains a slew of films I didn't get the chance to see. Armando Ianucci's tale of Washington and Westminister's hysterically desperate attempt to control the media-spin on the Iraq war, is one of them.

Based on the British comedy, The Thick of It, In the Loop is a grown up satirical comedy examining the confounding idiocy within the inner-circles of the British and American governments. Although the film is littered with purposeful political jibes, it never takes itself too seriously and focuses mostly on the funnies.

The dialogue and pacing of the film is delivered at a staccato pace, with sharp interminable verbal assaults at all angles. The clever and brilliantly juvenile script is sharp and focused with every character delivering his line with unerring conviction and astute comic timing.

Whilst the direction is fairly pedestrian, adding little to the scene and detracting little from them, it is perhaps exactly the stance the film demanded. Ianucci ditches the shaky camera work employed in The Thick of It, believing it wouldn't have transposed well to the big screen and instead uses lots of quick zooms to get that raw and energetic feel.

In the Loop is my favourite comedy of 2009. It's clever, but not too clever; It's politcal, but not too political; It's feriously funny without a momentary lull, exceedingly charming and well executed.