Shabiha Nur Khatoon
It is perplexing, if not outrageous, that in the film and entertainment industries producers and directors seem to have an excessive fascination for fair-skinned damsels, while those a shade or two darker than expected are shining bright by the dint of their talents
The 19-year-old Khoudia Diop has taken the internet by storm. The ‘Melanin Goddess’— a bold reference to her skin tone – is an international model with more than 300,000 followers on Instagram. Khoudia is trying to break stereotypes emanating from, and reinforcing, racial discrimination. Tannishtha Chatterjee’s scathing criticism on the television show ‘Comedy Nights Bachao Tazza’ over subjecting her to a roast focusing on her complexion sparked debate recently. Although the channel apologised to Chatterjee, the incident initiated an important conversation about the Indian predilection for fair skin, which plays out in numerous spheres, including mainstream cinema.
Prejudice based on skin tone is deep-rooted in our culture. The depiction of dark-skinned people in Indian movies illustrates the manner in which colour bias has existed over the centuries.
After the incident on the sets of the TV show the actress took to Facebook to convey her feelings. She wrote: “In the India of 2016, I still have to be apologetic about my skin tone? What is this white-skin hangover? Where does all our pride as a nation go away when it comes to the acceptance that most of us have a dark skin tone?”
In movies, it is clearly evident how fair is often associated with beauty while dark is associated with several social, cultural and religious superstitions.
Often, dark stands for backwardness. In movies which depict the working classes, the tribals and poor people as dark-skinned, this is all too discernible. Actors are often seen wearing dark make-up on the rare occasions when they play characters who hail from the lower echelons of society.
For example, Dharmendra darkened his skin to feature as the half-tribal half-brother of the fair-skinned and affluent Dilip in Izzat. He also wore brown make-up in Razia Sultan in which he plays Yakut, an Abyssinian slave.
Among contemporaries, Alia Bhatt darkened her skin and went for a rough-hewn appearance as a poor farm labourer in Udta Punjab which attracted much criticism.
Dark is often symbolised as villainous. Dark people handily turn up as infamous brutes or hateful oddities. Remember Meenamma’s kidnappers in Chennai Express or the sundry thugs in All The Best: Fun Begins.
Also, Sunil Dutt wore dark make-up in Mother India in which he played the role of an undisciplined young man who grows up to become a fearsome bandit.
Sometimes dark is also portrayed as divine. Dark-skinned Hindu gods are universally admired, and their complexion is extolled in a number of film songs such as ‘Woh Kisna Hai’ from Kisna and ‘Mann Mohana’ from Jodhaa Akbar. Unable to reconcile traditional assumptions with learned racist beliefs, popular cinema hesitates dangerously between portraying dark-skinned people as demons or gods. This confusion also reflects in the depiction of dark-skinned women – they are either portrayed as hideous or sensuous.
Our penchant for fair skin overlaps most perniciously with sexism. The requirement of fair skin, like several other standards of beauty, applies much more rigorously to female characters and actors than male.
In Sivaji The Boss, the dubbed version of Shankar’s Tamil film Sivaji, the eponymous character played by Rajinikanth runs away with revulsion when he encounters two dark-skinned and plump women. He, instead, falls for the fair-skinned Tamizhselvi (Shriya Saran). On the other hand, when Sivaji goes to ridiculous lengths to lighten his skin, Tamizhselvi tells him that she prefers his dark skin. The episode plays out to the myth that has built up around Rajinikanth’s complexion, but the filmmaker’s understanding of this myth does not extend to the heroine.
There are also cases of dark-skinned people depicted as outcasts. Fair-skinned imports such as Katrina Kaif, Amy Jackson and Jacqueline Fernandez have slipped into the cinematic world without any objection ever being raised about their appearance. But several dark-skinned Indian actors such as Freida Pinto, Usha Jadhav and Manoj Bajpayee have complained they have been denied roles, or had to face baseless judgments, due to their complexion.
As people begin to understand that dark-skinned actors are being treated unjustly, the cinematic world is making fumbling attempts at political correctness. Actors with a darker complexion are described with euphemistic epithets such as “dusky”, “olive-skinned”, “coffee-coloured” or “caramel”.
Bengali actress Paoli Dam finds it unfortunate that the parameter of beauty has always been defined by the melanin count. The Hate Story actress has found herself at the receiving end of racial discrimination. “When I came into this industry, I was told that to become a mainstream heroine, one needed to be fair. When I was doing TV shows, I was never selected as the lead. I lost out on roles because I wasn’t fair and many said it’s important to look fair in front of the camera. The biggest riddle that still remains unsolved is why should beauty be associated with fairness? Many actresses, who I have grown up admiring, are known to use fairness products. This is highly unfortunate. There are countless actresses who aren’t fair but are doing very well. It is really unfortunate that we are still so overly bothered about skin tone,” she adds.
