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Bollywood’s Angromance: Toxic Masculinity
and Male Angst in Tere Naam and Kabir Singh
Aysha Iqbal Viswamohan | Indian Institute
of Technology, Madras
Sanchari Basu ChaudhurI | Jamia Millia Islamia,
New Delhi
This led to criticism in the realm of popular culture with reference to gen-
der. Moreover, in recent times, women-centric movies, such as Kahaani,
Mary Kom, Mardaani, Queen, and Piku depict women as active agents of
their life-course,12 thus providing audiences with alternate gender scripts.
Raminder Kaur notes that such female characters “have been propelled
in part as a response to allegations that popular film objectifies women
and condones misogyny and sexual harassment, which could contribute
to rape culture.”13 An infusion of global consciousness regarding gender
inequalities also brought to the fore pervading disparities within Bolly-
wood such as women’s representation in films, item numbers, wage gap,
everyday sexism, and the rejection of male-centric movies.14 Mainstream
filmmakers have countered this criticism by pointing out that escapist en-
tertainment, and not didacticism, is the raison d’etre of popular cinema.
However, in the wake of the Nirbhaya case, social commentators observed
the complicity of item songs such as “Munni” from Dabangg, and “Sheila ki
jawaani” from Tees Maar Khan,15 and the unwholesome part played by Bol-
lywood in representing women as little more than easily available objects.
Representations of women continue to be a battleground for filmmakers,
social observers, and censorhip boards.
Patriarchy, as a term, is used to describe the domination of men over
women through social, cultural, political, and economic institutions.16
Much of contemporary discussions on gender relations necessitate an
understanding of patriarchy. It was during the first wave of feminism that
scholars such as Simone de Beauvoir proposed that patriarchy renders gen-
dered inequalities as natural.17 Patriarchy has pervaded social institutions,
which is evident in the ways in which gender is done.18 Hence, Judith Butler
has argued for undoing gender, which will translate into a dismantling of
patriarchal structures.19
Any robust discussion of patriarchy would lead us to consider that “male
dominance is sexual. . . . Meaning: men in particular, if not men alone, sexu-
alize hierarchy; gender is one”20 and that in capitalist patriarchal world, the
central fact “is the subordination of women.”21 While burnishing a certain
type of masculinity on screen, mainstream cinema in Hindi also presents
an ideal female (or Bharatiya naari), an image that is carefully constructed
with the aid of particular tropes, implicating codes and with pronounced
references to what is understood as “Indian” culture. As Partha Chatterjee
explains: “A woman identified as ‘Westernized,’ for instance, would invite
and the politics of meanings associated within the realm of the culture
depicted. Therefore, we integrate theories of hegemonic masculinity and
interactive aspects of performance theory to situate the practices of mascu-
linity on screen. The films were selected for similarities in their narratives,
which centered on obsessive, aggressive, inarticulate male lovers perform-
ing male angst, and are counterposed by submissive females, glorified as
feminine ideals. Both movies were commercially successful and popular
with the youth, and were remakes of blockbuster South Indian films.29
Methodologically, we follow the textual analysis approach, where
films—including performances, stardom, mise-en-scene—are read as texts,
in addition to the interpretation of primary documents and select cultural
representations. Using this approach, we consider the hierarchy of mascu-
linities and femininities in conjunction with the performances of toxic mas-
culinity, while foregrounding relevant theories of gender. The article also
examines performances using Judith Butler’s representative ideas that
describe male-female binary caused by repetition of gendered acts and ac-
knowledges that some acts are identified as inherently masculine or femi-
nine, which legitimizes the gender binary.30
In recent times, especially post– #MeToo movement, the term “toxic mas-
culinity” (coined by Shepherd Bliss, popularized in the 1980s) has gained
enormous currency, and is being used as an all-encompassing term for
male perpetrated violence, misogyny, and sexism. Gendered characterisit-
ics are deduced through domains of social, sexual and body.31 The realm of
the social sheds light on how men interact with others; the sexual delves
into romantic relationships and intimacy, while the body reflects on man’s
external appearances.
Hegemonic masculinity can be broadly referred to as a set of gender
norms and conventions that are validated through social structures in a
particular context. Robert Connell states that these norms legitimize the
dominance of men over women through patriarchy in different ways.32 It
must be recognized that such practices and performances based on vio-
lence lead to impoverished personal relationships, ailments, or suicide.33
By pointing toward the problematic portrayal of men, it shifts the discourse
of “blaming women for men’s self harm” toward the seamless amalgama-
tion of toxic and hegemonic masculinity.34 The femininity displayed by fe-
male lead characters, Nirjara and Preeti, mediates the knowledge that they
are the “gatekeepers of male desire” that absolve men for their aggres-
sion.35 Moreover, the characteristics associated with hegemonic masculin-
ity “create double binds for women” where they are subjected to criticism
for exhibiting same attributes or face degrading treatment.36 It is important
to acknowledge that such practices and institutions of hegemonic mascu-
linity vary on the basis of spatial/geographical locations, though common
parameters may exist universally.
The central tenet of masculinity is its preoccupation with distinguish-
ing itself from femininity through practices which discipline, fetishize, and
exploit women.37 It also seeks to establish its supremacy amongst other
masculinities.38 The physical performance of this masculinity is recogniz-
able through sexual activity,39 and competitive sports.40 The dominant as-
pect of hegemony or power, however, is expressed through violence, which
can retain or subvert power.41 Additionally, it is also manifested through
emotional performances such as hostility, emotional unavailability and
ruthlessness.42 Further, toxic masculinity refers to those aspects of mas-
culinity that are perilous to themselves and others. This includes, “misog-
yny, homophobia, greed, and violent domination... insensitivity to or lack
of consideration of the experiences and feelings of others, an incapacity to
nurture... (violence and self-inflicting harm arising out of) frustration of a
man’s need to be respected.”43
In addition, intimidation and hypersexuality,44 risk-taking behavior,45
in conjunction with alcohol consumption also underscore toxic behavior.46
While it is not necessary to conform to hegemonic masculinity, yet it serves
as a set of values considered ideal towards masculine performance. (The
conceptual framework has been criticized for its limiting aspects. This arti-
cle acknowledges the limitation that not all men accomplish such traits. Af-
ter all, the heroes in Tere Naam and Kabir Singh do not perform hegemonic
masculinity or toxic masculinity exclusively).
Before proceeding, let us locate Tere Naam and Kabir Singh in their
respective zeitgeists. A backward glance suggests how the notion of mas-
culinity represented in Bollywood movies during the 1990s was noticeable
for its recourse to tradition.47 This included its continuity with puritanical
representations of romance that excluded on-screen kissing, premarital
Bollywood’s fascination with the frustrated, brooding hero dates back to the
adaptations of Saratchandra Chattopadhyay classic Devdas.65 Chattopad-
hyay’s work maps the protagonist’s trajectory of self-pity, self-abjection, and
self-destruction that culminates in (almost) suicidal death. Subsequently,
there have been innumerable adaptations of Devdas in Hindi as well as other
regional languages, leading the premise to become a formulaic template for
many romantic films.66 The subtexts of these films, though these works are
separated by decades, remain the same: how a full-blooded alpha claims/
reclaims his position in a rapidly changing society and avenges his honor.
Here, we use the term “angromance” to connote the anger displayed by
the angst-ridden heroes to assert their passion, sexuality, and masculinity
in select cinematic texts. We draw upon the figure of deewana (crazy lover)
in popular Bollywood movies, representing the obsessive lover who stalks,
molests, humiliates, and as a last measure, resorts to violence to express his
love—all the while consumed with feelings of self-pity. The deewana hero
has been a popular figure for ages, but for the purpose of this article we
focus on certain representative films.
In the 1990s, the figuration of crazed lover paved way for the sadist
antiheroes in Darr: A Violent Love Story, Anjaam, and Dastak.67 The rep-
resentation of the angry lover negated the restraint of the “angry young
man” through excess of sentimentality and psychosis.68 Thus, the antihero
was unrepentant for his viciousness and killed for “self-esteem and self-
actualization.”69 Obsessive, angry, and abusive husbands were depicted in
Daraar and Agni Sakshi, both remakes of Sleeping with the Enemy,70 where
a battered wife escapes an abusive relationship. In the more recent past,
Ranjhanaa,71 glorifies one-sided obsession when the stalker hero eventu-
ally sacrifices his life to atone for the killing of the heroine’s lover.72
As romantic texts, Tere Naam and Kabir Singh reconfigure various
time-honored allegories. In Tere Naam, this template is set during the open-
ing credit as we see a love letter going up in flames. The impending fate of
star-crossed lovers draws on epic love stories, with the first shot panning on
the Taj Mahal, a signification of eternal love.73 On the other hand, in Kabir
Singh, the opening scene shows a couple sleeping in a state of embrace,
amidst the recitation of a couplet.74 This introduces the movie as a passion-
ate love story that presents physical intimacy in the realm of true love.
Male gaze holds a place of prominence in these two filmic texts. Female
objectification, bordering on harassment, is evident at the outset in Tere
Naam, where Radhe gazes at Nirjara at the train station and subjects her
to incessant bullying, as his sycophantic friends cheer on. In Kabir Singh,
Kabir’s gaze is fixed on Preeti and later on another woman’s body as he de-
mands sexual favors from her. Both films signify the “controlling male gaze”
that identifies women as objects, while men possess the agency for casting
the gaze.80 The girls, both ingénues, lower their heads, speak in inaudible
whispers and avert their eyes to suggest their modesty and traditional/In-
dian values. This primes the heroine as an innocent, which qualifies her as
an object for hero’s love.
Masculinity is performed through a set of codes and conventions, in-
cluding clothes, accessories, and hairstyle. In Tere Naam, Radhe is initially
a boorish, yet good-hearted youth. Salman Khan’s now-famous hairstyle,
emulated across the actor’s fanbase, comprises side bangs that frame his
face with a middle parting. After he is institutionalized in a monastic retreat
(ashram) to recuperate, he makes a pathetic sight with his scarred face and
shaved head. A similar “visual image of crisis and instability” is played out
in two different stages in Kabir’s life as well.81 His unshaven beard, long
tousled hair, sunglasses, and scruffy appearance are indicative of his Dev-
das avatar. Quite significantly, the publicity poster of Kabir Singh featured
a close-up of Shahid Kapoor. Wearing dark glasses, his face unshaven,
and hair unkempt, the image was a clear departure from the slick-haired
and clean-shaven look that were signature trademarks of the star’s earlier
“boy-next-door” persona.
Figure 1 | Nirjara (Bhumika Chawla) walking demurely in Tere Naam. Tere Naam
(2003, MD Productions and Orion Pictures).
Figure 2 | Preeti’s (Kiara Advani) first day on college campus in Kabir Singh. Kabir
Singh (2019, Cine1 Studios and T-Series).
Figure 3 | Radhe (Salman Khan) in Tere Naam and Kabir (Shahid Kapoor) in Kabir
Singh guarding their women on stage.
here, “gender is an act which has been rehearsed, much as a script survives
the particular actors who make use of it, but which requires individual ac-
tors in order to be actualized and reproduced as reality once again.”85 In
both films, the protagonists’ identities are scripted through their mercurial
temperament, acerbic humor, and hyperactive gestures to offset their devi-
ant and immature behavior.
In their study on depiction of masculinity in cinema, Pat Kirkham and
Janet Thumim observe, “Filmic depictions of the male body in action of-
fer chivalrous deeds, sports, combat, and violence, with an emphasis on
competition.”86 Thus, in Tere Naam the hero’s entry is followed by the an-
nouncement of his successful manoeuvring of elections in college, and
in Kabir Singh, the hero is presented as an over-achiever and highly com-
petitive personality. As the captain of his college’s football team, we find
Kabir engaged in sledging, hurling expletives at the referee and showing
the middle finger to the rival team. Through these acts, Kabir is presented
as a dominant masculine and a role model in his college. Hegemonic mas-
culinity can be understood as the successful ways of being a man in par-
ticular places at specific times,87 which renders other forms inadequate.
This is evident when Kabir emasculates Preeti’s teenage brother by kissing
him (on his cheeks) in front of his friends. Unsurprisingly, the abjection of
the figures of authority (male relations, father figures, college professors),
serve to make the audience more empathetic toward the heroes, probably
because the viewers see a reflection of themselves in the acts of defiance
and rebellion.
Violence has often been perceived as an effective strategy to express
love, and has been a conspicuous part of Bollywood’s fabric. Even the
“gentlemanly heroes” of the Golden Age of Bollywood are not above vio-
lence, such as pulling the heroine by the hair or slapping her across theface,
to demonstrate control or to make her realize his true love.88 Instances from
Awaara, Aan, Dharam-Veer, Laawaris, and Betaab,89 come immediately to
mind, but there are more such examples. Aggression continues to be a po-
tent tool to express passionate love, which renders the protagonists inca-
pable of reasoning, yet succeeds in “taming” the female and ends in her
willing surrender to the dominant male. As Carrigan and colleagues argue,
“The most important feature of this masculinity, alongside its connection
with dominance, is that it is heterosexual.”90 Thus, when Radhe is unable
to accept Nirjara’s rejection, he kidnaps her. His anger, frustration, and suf-
fering are conveyed as he threatens to kill her and then commit suicide.
These actions are corroborated by his claims of extreme love and that she
“belongs” to him.
Kabir’s rage on being spurned by Preeti’s father follows the same trajec-
tory. When Preeti tries to reason with him, he slaps her to make her realize
that she does not have an identity except that of “Kabir’s” girl. As David
Buchbinder puts forth that representations of men “reproduce dominant
notions of masculinity” and facilitate in inviting other men to recognise
themselves in such representations,91 these “passionate” acts of violence
present a normative model of “victorious” masculinity that serves the
cause of patriarchal dominance.
the hero in several acts of bullying Nirjara, threatening her fiancé, and later
consoling Radhe. Similarly, Shiva (Kabir’s friend) shields him to the extent of
appearing ludicrous. In one disturbing scene, Shiva even offers Kabir his sis-
ter to Kabir in marriage, to help the latter overcome his obsession for Preeti.
It is also worth noting that both Tere Naam and Kabir Singh, as ex-
emplars of mainstream cinema—with accent on outmoded depictions of
masculinity—brought back their male stars from the brink of near oblivion.
Salman Khan and Shahid Kapoor were at the crossroads of their careers at
the time of the release of these films. The box office successes of the two
films have consolidated their positions as bankable leading men. Interest-
ingly, Salman Khan’s next major release is slated to be Radhe: Your Most
Wanted Bhai, while Shahid Kapoor promises to explore another aspect of
machismo with yet another remake of a Telugu film, Jersey.99
Conclusion
Contributor Details
Notes
1. Karan Johar apologizes for item numbers and stalking in his films: “Will never
do it again,” December 4, 2017, http://www.hindustantimes.com/bollywood/karan-
johar-apologises-for-item-numbers-and-stalking-in-his-films-will-never-do-it-
again/story-J1twsOlnlb6baNoigW8fVK.html.
2. Urmimala Munsi, “Buy One, Get One Free: The Dance Body for the Indian Film
and Television Industry,” in Performance, Feminism and Affect in Neoliberal Times,
ed. Elin Diamond, Denise Varney, and Candice Amich (London: Palgrave Macmillan,
2017), 176.
3. Steve Derné, “Making Sex Violent: Love as Force in Recent Hindi Films,” Violence
Against Women 5, no. 5 (1999): 548–75.
4. Srividya Ramasubramanian and Mary Oliver, “Portrayals of Sexual Violence in
Popular Hindi Films, 1997–99,” Sex Roles 48, nos. 7–8 (2003): 334.
5. See, for instance, Laawaris (1981, Prakash Mehra Productions), Mard (1985,
M.K.D. Films Combine), Hum (1991, Romesh Films), Laadla (1994, Neha Arts), Dil Se
(1998, Madras Talkies & Varma Corporation).
6. Heidi Pauwels, “‘The Woman Waylaid at the Well’ or Paṇaghaṭa-līlā: An Indian
Folk Theme Appropriated in Myth and Movies,” Asian Ethnology 69, no. 1 (2010): 1–33.
7. Oliver, “Portrayals of Sexual Violence,” 334.
8. Derné, “Making Sex Violent,” 551, 560.
9. Jyotika Virdi, The Cinematic ImagiNation: Indian Popular Films as Social History
(Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2003), 61.
10. Karen Gabriel, Melodrama and the Nation: Sexual Economies of Bombay Cin-
ema 1970–2000 (New Delhi: Women Unlimited, 2010), 206.
11. Gabriel, Melodrama and the Nation, 204.
12. Kahaani (2014, Boundscript Motion Pictures); Mary Kom (2014, Bhansali
Productions); Mardaani (2014, Yash Raj Films); Queen (2014, Viacom 18 Motion
Pictures & Phantom Films); Piku (2015, MSM Motion Pictures, Saraswati Entertain-
ment Creations & Rising Sun Films).
13. Raminder Kaur, “Mediating Rape: The Nirbhaya Effect in the Creative and Digi-
tal Arts,” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 42, no. 4 (2017): 951.
14. Tupur Chatterjee, “Rape Culture, Misogyny, and Urban Anxiety in NH10 and
Pink,” Feminist Media Studies 19, no. 1 (2019): 132.
15. Dabangg (2010, Arbazz Khan Productions); Tees Maar Khan (2010, Hari Om En-
tertainment, Three’s Company, and UTV Motion Pictures).
16. Jackey Stacey, “Untangling Feminist Theory,” in Introducing Women’s Stud-
ies: Feminist Theory and Practice, ed. Diane Richardson and Victoria Robinson
(London: Macmillan, 1993).
17. Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex (New York: Vintage, 1952), 18.
18. Candace West and Don H. Zimmerman, “Doing Gender,” Gender & Society 1, no.
2 (1987): 125–51.
19. Judith Butler, Undoing Gender (London: Routledge, 2004).
20. Catherine A. MacKinnon, “Sexuality, Pornography, and Method,” Ethics 99, no.
2 (1989): 315.
21. Tim Carrigan, Bob Connell, and John Lee, “Toward a New Sociology of
Masculinity,” Theory and Society 14, no. 5 (1985): 111.
22. Partha Chatterjee, “Colonialism, Nationalism, and Colonized Women: The
Contest in India,” American Ethnologist 16, no. 4 (1989): 630.
23. Tere Naam (2003, MD Productions and Orion Pictures); Kabir Singh (2019, Cine1
Studios & T-Series).
24. “Kabir Singh Review: No Film for a Woman,”The Hindu, June 21, 2019,
https://www.thehindu.com/entertainment/movies/kabir-singh-movie-review-this-
arjun-reddy-remake-is-no-film-for-woman/article28101634.ece.
25. “Kabir Singh Review: There’s Some Movie in This Misogyny,” The Wire, June 21,
2019, https://thewire.in/film/kabir-singh-movie-review.
26. Pat Kirkham and Janet Thumim, “You Tarzan,” in You Tarzan: Masculinity, Mov-
ies and Men, ed. Pat Kirkham and Janet Thumim (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1993),
15.
27. Robert Bly, Iron John: A Book About Men (Boston: Addison-Wesley, 1990).
28. David Savran, Taking It Like a Man: White Masculinity, Masochism, and
Contemporary American Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), 172.
29. Films from South India are dubbed for pan-Indian audiences and telecast on na-
tional television channels. These movies are often coded within the confines of angro-
mance. For more discussion on heroes of Southern India, refer to Sasi Mallam, “Sexual
Harassment as Courtship: Performing Hegemonic Masculinity in Contemporary Telugu
Cinema,” Journal of Creative Communications 14, no. 2 (2019). The female protagonist is
designated as the secondary character in the movie associated with chastity, maturity,
and domesticity. For more information, see Selvaraj Velayutham, Tamil Cinema: The
Cultural Politics of India’s Other Film Industry (London: Routledge, 2008).
30. Judith Butler, “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phe-
nomenology and Feminist Theory,” Theatre Journal 40, no. 4 (1988): 519–31.
31. Jessica Birthisel, “How Body, Heterosexuality and Patriarchal Entanglements
Mark Non-human Characters as Male in CGI-animated Children’s Films,” Journal of
Children and Media 8, no. 4 (2014): 336–52.
32. Robert Connell, Masculinities (Cambridge: Polity, 1995), 196.
33. Nancy E. Dowd, “Asking the Man Question: Masculinities Analysis and Feminist
Theory,” Harvard Journal of Law and Gender 33 (2010): 421.
34. Dowd, “Asking the Man Question,” 424.
35. Cited in Dowd, “Asking the Man Question,” 424.
36. Dowd, “Asking the Man Question,” 420.
37. Sharon Bird, “Welcome to the Men’s Club: Homosociality and the Maintenance
of Hegemonic Masculinity,” Gender & Society 10, no. 2 (1996): 125.
38. Connell, Masculinities.
39. Robert Connell and James Messerschmidt, “Hegemonic Masculinity: Rethink-
ing the Concept,” Gender & Society 19, no. 6 (2005): 829–59.
40. Raewyn Connell, “Masculinity Construction and Sports in Boys’ Education:
A Framework for Thinking about the Issue,” Sport, Education and Society 13, no. 2
(2008): 131–45.
41. Connell, Masculinities.
42. Mike Donaldson, “What is Hegemonic Masculinity?,” Theory and Society 22, no.
5 (1993): 643–57.
43. Terry Kupers, “Toxic Masculinity as a Barrier to Mental Health Treatment in
Prison,” Journal of Clinical Psychology 61, no. 6 (2005): 717.
44. Diane Prusank, “Masculinities in Teen Magazines: The Good, the Bad, and the
Ugly,” The Journal of Men’s Studies 15, no. 2 (2008): 160–77.
45. Donald Mosher and Silvan Tomkins, “Scripting the Macho Man: Hypermascu-
line Socialization and Enculturation,” Journal of Sex Research 25, no. 1 (1988): 60–84.
46. Antonia Lyons, Sue Dalton, and Anna Hoy, “‘Hardcore Drinking’ Portrayals of
Alcohol Consumption in Young Women’s and Men’s Magazines,” Journal of Health
Psychology 11, no. 2 (2006): 223–32.
47. Patricia Uberoi, “The Diaspora Comes Home: Disciplining Desire in DDLJ,”
Contributions to Indian Sociology 32, no. 2 (1998): 305–36.
48. For instance, movies like Khwahish (2003, Akbar Arabiyan), Jism (2003, Fish
Eye Network P Ltd.) and Murder (2004, Vishesh Films) come under this category.
49. Rachel Dwyer, “Kiss or Tell? Declaring Love in Hindi Films,” in Love in South
Asia: A Cultural History, ed. Francesca Orsini (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006), 300.
64. Aarti Wani, “The Provincial Self in the Town of Love,” Economic & Political
Weekly 48, no. 51 (2013): 35.
65. S. C. Chattopadhyay, Devdas, trans. S. Guha (New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2002).
Original work published 1917.
66. As a definitive emblem for male despair, the Devdas template was a successful
model for the “angry young man” of the ’70s in films such as Muqaddarka Sikandar
(1978, Prakash Mehra Productions) and later Jeet (1996, Nadiadwala Grandson Enter-
tainment), and to a lesser degree for Dhadkan (2000, Venus Worldwide Entertainment).
67. Darr: A Violent Love Story (1993, Yash Raj Films); Anjaam (1994, Shiv-Bharat
Films); Dastak (1996, Vishesh Films).
68. Ranjani Mazumdar, “From Subjectification to Schizophrenia: The ‘Angry Man’
and the ‘Psychotic’ Hero of Bombay Cinema,” in Making Meaning in Indian Cinema,
ed. Ravi Vasudevan (New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2000), 251–57.
69. Nikhat Kazmi, Ire in the Soul: Bollywood’s Angry Years (New Delhi: HarperCol-
lins Publishers, 1996), 76–77.
70. Daraar (1996, Shree Shivbhakti Films & Venus Records and Tapes); Agni Sakshi
(1996, Neha Films); Sleeping with the Enemy (1991, 20th Century Fox).
71. Raanjhanaa, 2013.
72. Wani, “The Provincial Self,” 37.
73. The mausoleum was commissioned by Shah Jahan to commemorate his love
for Mumtaz Mahal, his favorite wife, and is still considered a manifestation of con-
jugal eternal love. Another signification of love here is the peacock’s feather (mor-
pankh). In Indian culture, it is associated with the mystical bond between the divine
figures of Krishna and Radha. Hence, the peacock’s feather denotes “pure love” of
two souls as opposed to the sexual union.
74. “Oh Khusrau, the river of love runs in strange directions. It is necessary to
drown in love to get across” (Khusrau dariya prem ka/ulti wa ki dhar/jo utra who doob
gaya/jo dooba so paar).
75. The fact that the star in real life is still single and never misses any opportunity
to make oblique references to his ex-ladylove add further fuel to the collective ro-
mantic imagination of Khan’s core audience. Coupled with his well-publicized acts
of charity and altruism, the onscreen persona Radhe of Tere Naam—misunderstood,
yet with a heart of gold—fits well with the star’s public image, and remains the ac-
tor’s one of the best-known self-referential roles.
76. The case of Shahid Kapoor (on screen Kabir) is only slightly different. The ac-
tor too had gone through heartbreak at the hands of a popular filmstar, under full
media and public gaze. Though happily married now, Shahid’s personal and profes-
sional transformation has been quite perceptible post-breakup of his much-touted
relationship. In his ensuing roles, particularly Kaminey (2009, UTV Motion Pictures
and VB Pictures), Haider (2014, VB Pictures), Udta Punjab (2016, Balaji Motion Pictures
& Phantom Films), and Rangoon (2017, Nadiadwala Grandson Entertainment, VB Pic-
tures, and Viacom 18 Motion Pictures), Kapoor has been consistently downplaying
his clean cut looks and exploring the darker side of his personality.
77. Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (Lon-
don: Routledge, 1999).
78. Donna Peberdy, Masculinity and Film Performance: Male Angst in Contempo-
rary American Cinema (New York: Springer, 2011), 27.
79. Chatterjee, “Colonialism, Nationalism, and Colonized Women,” 629.
80. Laura Mulvey, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Screen 16, no. 3 (1975):
6–18.
81. Peberdy, Masculinity and Film Performance, 50.
82. Steve Neale, “Masculinity as Spectacle,” Screen 24, no. 6 (1983): 2–17.
83. Neale, “Masculinity as Spectacle,” 12.
84. Connell and Messerschmidt, “Hegemonic Masculinity.”
85. Butler, “Performative Acts,” 526.
86. Kirkham and Thumim, You Tarzan, 15.
87. Connell and Messerschmidt, “Hegemonic Masculinity,” 832.
88. Vijay Mishra, Temples of Desire (New York: Routledge, 2002), 7, 103–4.
89. Awaara (1951, All India Film Corporation and R. K. Films); Aan (1952, Mehboob
Productions); Dharam-Veer (1977, Mehboob Studios and R. K. Films); Laawaris (1981,
Prakash Mehra Productions); Betaab (1983, Vijayta Films).
90. Tim Carrigan, Bob Connell, and John Lee, “Toward a New Sociology of Mascu-
linity,” in The Masculinity Studies Reader, ed. Rachel Adams and David Savran (New
York: Blackwell Publishing, 2002), 113.
91. David Buchbinder, Performance Anxieties: Re-producing Masculinity (St. Leon-
ards: Allen & Unwin, 1998), vii.
92. Butler, “Performative Acts.”
93. Joseph Alter, “Celibacy, Sexuality, and the Transformation of Gender into Na-
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