Katie Ka Vang in Hmong Bollywood. Photo by Marc Norberg.
Bollywood is the common term for the lengthy (they are usually 3+ hours with intermission) Hindi language extravaganzas made in India. These movies, also called masala (i.e., spicy) films, feature genre-mashing combinations of melodrama, romance, love triangles. They contain nasty villains, hunky men and astonishingly beautiful sari wearing women. And of course catchy songs presented with elaborate dancing. Some stars (e.g., Shahrukh Khan, the “King of Bollywood”) possess a fan base numbering in the billions. These films enjoy increasing influence; the prevalence (and profitability) of movie musicals like Chicago, Les Misérables, et al harken directly to Bollywood. (Interested in Indian cinema? Many films stream on Netflix and can often be seen at the Eden Prairie mall.)
Pangea World Theater’s engrossing (and often frustrating) Hmong Bollywood (at InterMedia Arts, through March 24) draws a fascinating parallel between Bollywood and Hmong history. There is something dreamy and Bollywood-like in the melodrama of Hmong teen-agers sent to war, to squalid refugee camps, emigrating to the U.S.; of Hmong children struggling to balance traditional culture and the overwhelming pressures of 21st century American life.
The show also makes a much more interesting connection between Bollywood and the personal experiences of author/performer Katie Ka Vang and her family. Vang’s struggles do seem surreal: her fitful romances, her never-ending tussles with her powerful mother and, most important, her battle against, and eventual triumph over, major cancer (lymphoma). Bollywood represents a model (melodrama, villainous cancer cells, victory over adversity) and an escape. Vang movingly describes her immersion in this fantasy world; after her release from hospital Vang watched 18 Bollywood movies in a row.
Hmong Bollywood contains other striking set pieces: a poem written by (it would seem) her father, describing his experiences as a child soldier; a lovely scene between Katie and a Hmong woman (her mother?) which is alternating funny and heart-rending despite being 50% in Hmong; the father’s death.
Still, Hmong Bollywood seems a work-in-progress. Transitions often feel clunky, some pieces confuse, much material feels extraneous (I don’t know, for example, what the “flash mob dancers” contributed). Audience participation goes nowhere. Moreover, though Vang performs with breezy likeability, she lacks the feverish intensity that many actors naturally have. She needs to make up for this with clarity and passion and narrative momentum. Too often, though, Vang pulls back.
The idea behind Hmong Bollywood is gorgeous. I hope Vang keeps at it. Moreover, (this is me-the-writer dispensing no doubt unnecessary advice), the Hmong story might could be very effectively rendered, Bollywood-style, and surely Katie Ka Vang is the writer to do it.
Next up at Pangea: Nilo Cruz’s Lorca In A Green Dress, opening April 12 at the Ritz.
For more information about John Olive, please visit his website.