Sita Sings the Blues is an exercise not only in art and animation, but also in storytelling. Rather than try to take the best or most important parts of the "Ramayana" and put it all together in a linear story, Nina Paley's inventively animated piece chooses to layer all viewpoints together, giving each world ample time to present their version of events. First is the scholarly approach, wherein the story's finer details and plot elements are scrutinized by a witty cast of silhouette-like beings, with Terry Gilliam-style amalgamations of photograph and illustration acting out their words. After those segments, two different illustrated worlds are presented: the fairytale, rendered through stiff Mughal-era prints hopping stiffly through static backdrops, and a goofy cartoon musical, which brings to mind the animation of the Fleischer Brothers (Sita's saucer eyes, exaggerated curves and musical bent are reminiscent of Betty Boop), the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine" and Richard Williams. Finally, there is the story of the filmmaker, Nina Paley, presented in a drab but charming scribbled newspaper comic style. The movie's structure plays fast and loose with all these styles, and somehow keeps continuity while deviating constantly, such as with the fever-dream imagery in the opening and middle of the film.
Annette Hanshaw's blues catalog, which makes up most of the movie soundtrack, compliments the surreal animation much better than one would think, and the pathos of Sita's story comes through loud and clear with Hanshaw's recording of love-and-loss blues standards, which the animation both compliments and contrasts brilliantly. Each song is allowed to play until the last note in every musical sequence, which means that her tuneful voice can be heard saying "That's all!" just as the cartoon cuts off. Such a simple phrase provides an interesting contrast to a strangely contrived, often surreal adaptation of an epic poem that is so dense, even the paper cutout shadows that serve as narrators can't come to an agreement about what really happened.
"That's all!" serves as a wry summation of the epic themes of the poem, which are both taken for granted ("Do not challenge the stories!" one narrator says, before later turning skeptical himself) and scrutinized by the film, through the framing devices of Paley's experiences, and the comical, cartoonish tone. Mainly, the film examines the supposed perfection of Rama and Sita's unconditional love, which, in the epic, is presented as pure and perfect, akin with devotion to a god (Sita, while a captive of Ravana, prays for her husband, an avatar of Vishnu, every day unceasingly). While the film doesn't completely reject this notion, the musical segments highlight Sita's emotional suffering, with the songs themselves having a running theme of being hopelessly in love, no matter how badly her lover treats her, making Rama's later treatment of Sita come off as abusive and cruel. This is a divisive interpretation of the story, since the filmmaker deliberately makes parallels between Sita's suffering and her own relationship with her all-too-mortal disinterested husband, and is openly critical of the idea of Rama being the "ideal man."
Sita's damsel-in-distress role is given agency through singing the blues, even though she is often robbed of agency in her story, being kidnapped by Ravana mainly to insult her husband by stealing his "property." Likewise, the rather abrupt conclusion to such a rambling film, could be interpreted as a feminist reading of the tale, with Sita returning to the womb of Mother Earth, ending the turbulent love affair after years of patience and fidelity. With the way Paley parallels Rama and Sita's relationship to her own rejection by her ex-husband, and her eventual growth and transformation out of grief, it doesn't seem too far-fetched that she thought this was a happier ending for Sita than being an exiled queen. This reclaiming of power is emphasized through a piece of animation at the end, which shows Vishnu (Rama) now kneeling and massaging Lakshmi (Sita)'s feet, where before the roles were reversed.
Obviously, I found this film very evocative, thought-provoking and, if unusual, than at least able to hold my attention. For art lovers, academics or just people who like experimental cinema, this film would be a "Yes" for me, but anyone who has limited patience for older styles of music, repetitive story techniques and languid pacing might have a low tolerance for this particular kind of art.
Annette Hanshaw's blues catalog, which makes up most of the movie soundtrack, compliments the surreal animation much better than one would think, and the pathos of Sita's story comes through loud and clear with Hanshaw's recording of love-and-loss blues standards, which the animation both compliments and contrasts brilliantly. Each song is allowed to play until the last note in every musical sequence, which means that her tuneful voice can be heard saying "That's all!" just as the cartoon cuts off. Such a simple phrase provides an interesting contrast to a strangely contrived, often surreal adaptation of an epic poem that is so dense, even the paper cutout shadows that serve as narrators can't come to an agreement about what really happened.
"That's all!" serves as a wry summation of the epic themes of the poem, which are both taken for granted ("Do not challenge the stories!" one narrator says, before later turning skeptical himself) and scrutinized by the film, through the framing devices of Paley's experiences, and the comical, cartoonish tone. Mainly, the film examines the supposed perfection of Rama and Sita's unconditional love, which, in the epic, is presented as pure and perfect, akin with devotion to a god (Sita, while a captive of Ravana, prays for her husband, an avatar of Vishnu, every day unceasingly). While the film doesn't completely reject this notion, the musical segments highlight Sita's emotional suffering, with the songs themselves having a running theme of being hopelessly in love, no matter how badly her lover treats her, making Rama's later treatment of Sita come off as abusive and cruel. This is a divisive interpretation of the story, since the filmmaker deliberately makes parallels between Sita's suffering and her own relationship with her all-too-mortal disinterested husband, and is openly critical of the idea of Rama being the "ideal man."
Sita's damsel-in-distress role is given agency through singing the blues, even though she is often robbed of agency in her story, being kidnapped by Ravana mainly to insult her husband by stealing his "property." Likewise, the rather abrupt conclusion to such a rambling film, could be interpreted as a feminist reading of the tale, with Sita returning to the womb of Mother Earth, ending the turbulent love affair after years of patience and fidelity. With the way Paley parallels Rama and Sita's relationship to her own rejection by her ex-husband, and her eventual growth and transformation out of grief, it doesn't seem too far-fetched that she thought this was a happier ending for Sita than being an exiled queen. This reclaiming of power is emphasized through a piece of animation at the end, which shows Vishnu (Rama) now kneeling and massaging Lakshmi (Sita)'s feet, where before the roles were reversed.
Obviously, I found this film very evocative, thought-provoking and, if unusual, than at least able to hold my attention. For art lovers, academics or just people who like experimental cinema, this film would be a "Yes" for me, but anyone who has limited patience for older styles of music, repetitive story techniques and languid pacing might have a low tolerance for this particular kind of art.