Sohini elucidates the nine Rasas in Sage Bharata’s Nāṭyaśāstra, focusing on ten films, highlighting how each director masterfully captures a specific aesthetic essence, exclusively for Different Truths.
In Nāṭyaśāstra, the oldest Indian text describing the creation and aesthetics of art of theatre, Sage Bharata lays down the theory of Rasa (Essence). It is said within this text that any form of art has within it one of nine Rasas, which are indispensable and without which nothing can have appeal. He defines Rasa as a mental state produced within the viewer free from all obstacles or blemishes and says that this aesthetic delight is the essence of art itself.
Of these essences, there are nine types: the disgustful (Bibhitsa), the peaceful (Śānta), the comic (Hāsya), the marvellous (Adbhuta), the fearful (Bhayānaka), the heroic (Veera), the furious (Raudra), the erotic (Śriṅgāra), and the pathetic (Karuṇā).
Of the erotic, there are two types: eroticism-in-union (Sambhoga) and eroticism-in-privation (Vipralambha).
The following list of ten movies explains these Rasa’s in the context of cinema. For the art itself, we remain indebted to these 10 great directors.
The Essence of Disgust (Bibhitsa): The Silence of the Lambs (1991, USA, Dir. Jonathan Demme)
In Jonathan Demme’s classic, The Silence of the Lambs, the character of Dr Hannibal Lecter, masterfully portrayed by Anthony Hopkins, is that of a modern-day cannibal who relishes in the pursuit and gleeful consumption of human flesh. The tone, visualisation and performance combined to provide a shocked global audience, a heightened sensation of revulsive disgust—bringing the hyper-taboo topic of cannibalism front and centre to the ultimate mass artistic form—cinema. An apt example of Bibhitsa.
The Essence of Peace (Śānta): Dr Zhivago (1965, UK/USA, Dir. David Lean)
David Lean’s epic Dr Zhivago, based on Boris Pasternak’s classic love story set against the backdrop of the fall of the Russian empire and the initial, bloody years of the Russian revolution, was a visual and aural masterpiece. Embellished by a stellar star cast and a haunting musical score, the film is much admired even today for its sweeping, dramatic narrative style. One of its most memorable sequences is when the star-crossed lovers Sasha and Lara, escaping from the perils and bloodsheds of the revolution to the abandoned Varykino estate, are travelling through the deserted and almost mystical snow-covered rural landscape of the Russian Urals. The scene’s magic is heightened by the mesmeric ‘Lara’s Theme’ background score, embodying the intense sense of peace and tranquillity felt by the characters on screen as well as their audience. Perfect Santam.
The Essence of Comedy (Hāsya): Modern Times (1936, USA, Dir. Charlie Chaplin)
Charlie Chaplin’s last ‘silent film’, Modern Times, is the final screen apprentice of his iconic tramp character. Known for his celebration of cinematic comedy, mostly the physical and the slapstick forms, virtually all his films celebrate the essence of Hasyam. Modern Times, however, best epitomises the subtle and not-so-subtle satiric elements that interlay the Hasyam rasa—a sardonic yet hyper-humorous look at the changing face of early 20th century modern society through the eyes of a bumbling common man hurtling into the industrialised age. Laughter for the ages, tinged with sarcasm, and an often stinging social commentary.
The Essence of Wonderment (Adbhūta): Pather Panchali (1955, India, Dir. Satyajit Ray), and Jurassic Park (1993, USA, Dir. Stephen Spielberg)
Apu and Durga’s now almost mythical run through the paddy fields, lured by the distant whistle of an approaching train, and then, suddenly, little Apu’s wide-eyed wonder as he first sights the chugging, smoke-belching locomotive, dragging its carriages in its wake. Perfect manifestation of Adbhutam—Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali—enough said.
Dr Grant, Dr Ellie, Tim, and Lex’s first sighting of the Brachiosaurus as they round a corner in Dr Hammond’s Jurassic Park has been described by Empire magazine as one of the most magical moments in cinema history for the characters on screen as well as mesmerising audiences across the globe. Spielberg’s vision and imagination combined with cutting-edge cinematic technology of the time to perfectly capture Adhbhutam.
The Essence of Fear (Bhayānaka): Jaws (1975, USA, Dir. Stephen Spielberg)
Dark blue deep waters, a lone swimmer, a peaceful moonlit night—and then a camera lens through the eyes of an unknown intruder from the depths, rapidly moving towards the kicking legs on the surface of the water, set to that score from John Williams… wild failing of the limbs as the unseen predator engulfs the swimmer. Sheer terror, absolute Bhayanak rasa. Spielberg’s introduction scene from Jaws chills to this day.
The Essence of Heroic (Veera): The Magnificent Seven (1960, USA, Dir. John Sturges)
John Sturges’ rousing Western, since considered one of the greatest films of the genre, was based on Akiro Kurasawa’s Seven Samurai. The classic ballad of a small Mexican village of unarmed farmers standing up against, and ultimately defeating, a dreaded bandit and his hordes of looters, actively trained and aided by a group of seven hired American gunslingers from across the border—is a perfect cinematic manifestation of the Veeram rasa. The tale celebrated what can be achieved through sheer steadfast bravery in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, and the heroic deaths of most of the Seven underscored the eternal battle adage of death before defeat.
The Essence of Wrath (Raudra): Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2 (2003/2004, USA, Dir. Quentin Tarantino)
The wrath of a wronged protagonist driving a theme of revenge is a popular cinematic trope. The history of commercial and art cinema abounds with such tales, but there is rarely a better example of the Raudram rasa than in the rage of the bride, as masterfully portrayed by Uma Thurman across the two parts of Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill. The familiar plot of a wronged woman, shot and left for dead by her former gangster lover, seeking the ultimate revenge against her tormentor and his gang of psychopathic killers, achieved never-before-seen cinematic heights of passionate, violent redemption, driven by the all-consuming wrath of the Uma Thurman character.
The Essence of Eroticism-in-Union (Sambhoga–Śriṅgāra): Last Tango in Paris (1972, Italy/USA, Dir. Bernardo Bertolucci)
One of the most celebrated cinematic manifestations of eroticism is Italian auteur Bernardo Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris. Banned in many countries at the time of its release and still heavily censored for TV telecasts, this passion fest recounts the tale of Jeanne, a beautiful young Parisienne, who, while looking for an apartment, encounters Paul, a mysterious American expatriate mourning his wife’s recent suicide. Instantly drawn to each other, they have a stormy, passionate affair in which they do not reveal their names to each other. Bertolucci’s principal cast—the middle-aged Marlon Brando and a very young Maria Schneider—romped across the screen in unabated, unbridled hyper-erotic sex sequences, daring for its time and celebrating the sheer essence of eroticism-in-union, Sambhoga-Sringara.
The Essence of Eroticism-in-Separation (Śriṅgāra–Vipralambha): Pyaasa (1957, India, Dir: Guru Dutt)
The story of struggling poet Vijay (Guru Dutt, who is also the director) is told in the movie Pyaasa (literally, Thirst, but used here to indicate Wistful—an unmet need). Vijay’s vain attempts to publish his works influence the plot of the movie. As he pursues this goal, he meets Meena, a lady he once loved but who later abandoned him to wed another man while still harbouring feelings for him. As he pursues his artistic and personal goals, Vijay becomes aware of the hollowness of his wants and the fleeting nature of the riches he seeks in a harsh world. The story of the prostitute Gulabo (Waheeda Rehman), who enjoys his poetry and soon appears to fall in love with him, is intertwined into Vijay’s journey but is unknown to him. While the struggle of the protagonist is the story’s central theme, the story’s peripherality centres on Meena and Gulabo’s desire for love. Although love is a familiar theme in Indian cinema, Sringara-Vipralambha reflects it in a variety of ways, both satisfied and unfulfilled, and is rich with underlying layers of eroticism-in-separation. (Adi Desai, ack!)
The Essence of Pathetic (Karuṇā): Pather Panchali (1955, India, Dir: Satyajit Ray)
Satyajit Ray’s first cinematic endeavour is really his best-known work globally, and perhaps the one that is most easily associated with his genius. Based on the trials and travails of an extremely poor rural family, the film abounds with masterful sequences that invoke immediate and long-lingering feelings of pathos, or Karuna rasa—the pathos of old age in Indir Pishi. The sheer terror of the night and helplessness at Durga’s death. The soundless transmission of the news of Durga’s death from Sarbajaya to Harihar and his gut-wrenching grief. The manifestations of the abject poverty of Harihar’s family. The bond between Durga and Indir and their fate, as signifying a philosophical core: that both the young and the old die.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
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