The cherry on the top of a delicious assortment of awards, ‘Naatu Naatu’ from the Telugu movie RRR took home the Academy Award for Best Original Song at the 95th Oscars ceremony this week. Director S.S. Rajamouli intended to “[open] the doors for the world to embrace our culture and music”, and should be proud that he was able to with such style.
Is this a token ethnic win? Considering its most credible competition was ‘Lift Me Up’ by Rihanna, to which ‘Naatu’ is musically superior in every way, I say no. All ‘Lift Me Up’ really has going for it is Rihanna’s name, and Black Panther 2’s nauseatingly large budget of $250 million affording it sophisticated advertising. ‘Naatu’, on the other hand, showcases modern Indian music, and more specifically the rhythmic artistry of the South Indian variant. Composer-songwriter M.M. Keeravani was acclaimed for his soulful ballads in the 1990s Telugu film industry (Tollywood), but his contemporary work elevates a local sound to global proportions.
‘Naatu’ took TikTok by storm. Many Indian cinema songs are engineered for exhilarating dance, so the signature hook step of ‘Naatu’ was TikTok gold as users searched for the next viral dance to recreate. Authentically South Indian, the sound itself is also novel to Western audiences.
It is mostly the percussion that draws you in. The 6/8-time signature is uncommon in Western pop music: producing a waltz-like lilt, the beat feels fluid and organic. The instrumentalization was also carefully selected to enhance this rustic feel. Supported by violin breaks, mandolin, and occasional timpani, what you mainly hear is duffs beating in unison. The duff resembles a wooden frame parchment drum, and is handheld and beaten with a stick. Their immersive, echoing pound is cyclonic. And the duff is historically significant, tied to India’s protest culture.
RRR – which stands for ‘Rise, Roar, Revolt’ – is an anti-colonial film, the story of revolutionaries in the 1920s during the height of the British Raj. In this scene, Raju and Bheem, the film’s protagonists, are being taunted for being the only Indian attendees at a British garden party. When insulted (“Look at all these brown buggers. What do they know about art? About finesse? About dance? Tango, swing, flamenco? Can you do any of these?”), the two spontaneously burst into the rambunctious dance that is ‘Naatu’. Transcending racist prejudices, the number is so infectious that no one in the wholly British group can resist joining in.
The film undoubtedly runs with the ‘fiction’ element of ‘historical fiction’. However, the intention is not accuracy, but rather pure spectacle and escapism. Though RRR is not a strict example of this, many Indian films of this genre are colloquially referred to as ‘masala movies’: melodramatic passion interspersed with over-stylised, CGI-ed fight sequences and breakneck dance numbers.
But there is little awareness among Western audiences of the variety and nuance of the Indian film industry – it’s like thinking Fast and Furious 9 is typical of the entirety of Hollywood. Probably because in the not-too-distant past, Western audiences wanted an orientalised lens: a spectacle which fits popular conceptions of India, a taste of overexaggerated exoticism.
So, ‘Naatu Naatu’ winning an Academy Award marks a sharp turn in the trajectory of diasporic culture. While the song has all the characteristics which encapsulate the music of Indian cinema, the award earns it the credibility that has until now been missing. ‘Naatu’ means ‘ethnic’ to Keeravani, ‘raw and rustic’ to songwriter Chandrabose, and simply ‘dance’ to many others. No matter the translation, it is an unapologetic celebration of Indian music.
“Oscar award” by theglobalpanorama is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.