Zubeidaa is the third of an unofficial trilogy of films created by Shyam Benegal in collaboration with writer Khalid Mohamed, but this colourful two and a half-hour film is a remarkable epic in its own right, worthy of being compared to Visconti at his finest and most extravagant.
The story of Zubeidaa commences with the flamboyant flourish of her red scarf falling out of the heavens onto her grave at her burial in 1982, and the remainder of the story of her life being told in flashback as it is uncovered by the son of her first marriage Riyad Masud (Rajit Kapoor), now a film journalist. The principal object of the search that will reveal much to him is a missing reel of 1952 film that Zubeidaa (Karisma Kapoor) completed before her father refused to let her undertake a career in the movies, physically removing her from the set. Her father has other ideas for his daughter, arranging a marriage to the son of a Pakistani businessman in order to form a closer alliance between the two families.
When the marriage eventually fails, despite the birth of a son, Zubeidaa's rather more free and outgoing friend Rose introduces Zubeidaa to a wealthy Raja Vijendra Singh, known as Victor, who falls madly in love with her beauty. Despite already being married to the more exotic and refined Mandira Devi (Rekha), and despite being a Muslim while Victor is a Hindu, Zubeidaa agrees to become the Maharaja's Junior Wife. The arrangement is inevitably not without difficulties, Zubeidaa feeling threatened by Victor's brother and increasingly marginalised as Victor embarks upon an election campaign to retain authority and represent the best interests of the people of his region, taking Mandy Didi (as she is known to Zubeidaa) along with him, the whole affair ultimately resulting in tragedy.
Zubeidaa is a vast and epic movie, colourfully filmed in widescreen with an eye for the opulence of the period, appropriately almost taking on the appearance of a near-fairytale for Zubeidaa's marriage to a wealthy Maharaja, breaking into lively song and dance arrangements with an impressive score by A.R. Rahman (Slumdog Millionaire). There is much more to the film however than it being a beautifully photographed fantasy, the story dealing with Benegal's characteristic treatment of the diversity of Indian culture, politics, religion and tradition, showing where it clashes and complements in all its infinite variety and beauty.
The story of Zubeidaa commences with the flamboyant flourish of her red scarf falling out of the heavens onto her grave at her burial in 1982, and the remainder of the story of her life being told in flashback as it is uncovered by the son of her first marriage Riyad Masud (Rajit Kapoor), now a film journalist. The principal object of the search that will reveal much to him is a missing reel of 1952 film that Zubeidaa (Karisma Kapoor) completed before her father refused to let her undertake a career in the movies, physically removing her from the set. Her father has other ideas for his daughter, arranging a marriage to the son of a Pakistani businessman in order to form a closer alliance between the two families.
When the marriage eventually fails, despite the birth of a son, Zubeidaa's rather more free and outgoing friend Rose introduces Zubeidaa to a wealthy Raja Vijendra Singh, known as Victor, who falls madly in love with her beauty. Despite already being married to the more exotic and refined Mandira Devi (Rekha), and despite being a Muslim while Victor is a Hindu, Zubeidaa agrees to become the Maharaja's Junior Wife. The arrangement is inevitably not without difficulties, Zubeidaa feeling threatened by Victor's brother and increasingly marginalised as Victor embarks upon an election campaign to retain authority and represent the best interests of the people of his region, taking Mandy Didi (as she is known to Zubeidaa) along with him, the whole affair ultimately resulting in tragedy.
Zubeidaa is a vast and epic movie, colourfully filmed in widescreen with an eye for the opulence of the period, appropriately almost taking on the appearance of a near-fairytale for Zubeidaa's marriage to a wealthy Maharaja, breaking into lively song and dance arrangements with an impressive score by A.R. Rahman (Slumdog Millionaire). There is much more to the film however than it being a beautifully photographed fantasy, the story dealing with Benegal's characteristic treatment of the diversity of Indian culture, politics, religion and tradition, showing where it clashes and complements in all its infinite variety and beauty.