
The world of Hindu literature is often a mystery to Americans. It’s a complex and beautiful world of oral traditions and holy scriptures divided loosely (and not at all completely) into Smriti; traditions (or religious law) and Śruti; revelations (‘heard’ information). While not the same thing, the Christian parallel might be that the Old Testament and New Testament represent the duality of religious traditions and revelations. You can’t correlate the two, and thus the mystery of Hindu texts becomes evident to many Christians.
The Bhagavad Gita was one of the first Hindu texts I’d ever encountered. It chronicles a conversation between Krishna and Arjuna on a battlefield before a war begins. Throughout their dialog, Krishna instructs his friend about many things. Through these teachings, many see the Gita as a guide, maybe THE guide, to Hindu philosophy. Again, to use a Christian parallel, you’d find things like the ten commandments (though there are a lot more in Hinduism!) in the Gita. It’s a fascinating read that helped open my mind to the possibilities that God exists in so many different ways, to many people, in many places.
I joke that my third eye opened after I’d read the Gita.
But outside of Gita reading, I have very little experience with Hindu literature. That is, until I saw a clip of a film by Nina Paley a while back. There, in my web browser, a curvy, whimsical cartoon character was singing and old Jazz ballad with a hook of “Daddy Won’t You Please Come Home”. I was hooked and watched the animation tons of times. It whet my appetite for more, but I promptly forgot about the full-length film until a little over a week ago when I saw an article about it online.

“Sita Sings the Blues” is an animated retelling of the epic story of The Ramayana. I can’t really sum it up easily, but, as the byline on the poster says “The Greatest Break-Up Story Ever Told”. What sets this animated tale off is the various ways Paley tells both The Ramayana AND her own tale of divorce.
Done completely in Flash, the rich musical numbers, fueled by Annette Hanshaw’s brilliant 20’s era Jazz numbers, come up against a trio of Indian voices telling the tale, cut into painted “traditional” scenes that depict the characters moving the story forward, overlaid with Paley’s own tale of breakup.

The melange sounds confusing, but on screen it delineates the sections of the movie perfectly. At times you’re learning Paley’s history. Then you’re watching Rama and Sita, Hanuman engage. And then, to move the story forward, you’re listening in on three Indian friends telling the tale of The Ramayana, with honest mistakes and all, visualized by shadow puppets on screen. It’s hilarious, sad, moving, and satisfying.
Animated films often fall into the trap of trying to distance themselves from their animation. I sometimes feel that producers want the animation to fall out of your consciousness and allow the story to stick with the viewer. Paley takes her film in a completely different direction, juxtaposing multiple flavors of animated storytelling to produce layers of meaning wildly different than anything I’ve ever seen.

The richly decorated world of “Sita Sings the Blues” is, in fact, the richly creative mind of one woman. Paley produced the entire film on her home Mac. Her vision of the film is exactly that: hers. Along with the records of Hanshaw, some voice actors, and a sound designer, she has written, directed, produced, ANIMATED, PAINTED, acted in, and ultimately created a work of art that I think, no, I DEMAND you watch.
Well done Nina Paley. I hope you receive millions of offers that involve millions of dollars (in your pocket) to create more art.
I just finished watching Sita Sings the Blues… LOVED IT! Beautifully animated — educational and entertaining. Now I want to read the Ramayana.
Thanks for writing about it!
Yay! Glad you enjoyed it!
I too recently saw and enjoyed the movie (thanks Peter). But one thing that typically gets left out of the reviews is that the movie is damn funny. It doesn’t have to try too hard to be funny and entertaining, but just is.